Mehdi knew what buildings looked like. He was, arguably, an expert in buildings. He had lived in one his entire life, and most of his friends also lived in buildings. Most of his time was spent travelling from one building to another.

Buildings were, in a word, important.

And yet.

Someone had neglected to tell Mehdi that it was possible to have only the building, and nothing in between.

Driving roads paved with smooth cobblestone, walking roads made of the same rock, and then buildings, made of brick or the same gray, cobbled texture as the roads, all seamlessly connected like a single building, no grass or dirt in sight.

And it was loud.

Cars on every road, every type of core imaginable walking to and from the buildings, not even pausing to give Mehdi a passing glance.

“I’m gonna take you as far as Tourmaline Fountain,” Noe said. “And then we will be parting ways.”

Mehdi nodded, despite having no idea what that fountain was or what it meant.

Noe walked up to a black automobile with a metal covering, and brilliant yellow, vertical stripes. “Get in.”

With an awkward shuffle of his bags, Mehdi crawled into the cramped car, each bag awkwardly balanced in his arms. Noe sat in the front seat, and stared at the driver expectantly.

“Uh--where ya heading, sir?” the driver stammered.

“Nevan Base,” Noe said dryly. “Just stop at the plaza.”

This automobile was far quieter than the one his parents owned. Mehdi watched the window, with a full bladder and an empty stomach, as the gray and brown buildings passed by in a seamless blur.

He knew they were all individual buildings logically, and yet he couldn’t help but look behind him, and see the train station rapidly disappear from view, and get the distinct sensation he was being closed in.

He was trapped in this walled building, with walls that loomed over him like a castle. And maybe he was just overflowing with ruminations, but he wondered if he’d ever be able to leave. Mehdi shook his head violently. He needed a bath. And a confession. And a nap. And a sandwich.

Worse, still, was the automobile didn’t seem to ever pick up speed, not the way Mehdi was used to. It stopped at every turn, every intersecting road, or just because there were other automobiles on the road. It would have been faster to walk and Mehdi was growing more restless by the minute.

Amidst the brightly colored masses and bland colored buildings, the automobile finally pulled to a stop. Noe got up, and cursed at the driver when he extended his hand out. Mehdi wasn’t sure what was going on, and instead tried to get his bearings.

The road was T shaped, with houses on each side of the road. In front of him was railing that was too tall to look through, but when he stood near, got on his tip toes, and squinted, he could see that beyond the wall was a lower area, with wide spanning buildings, and a fountain consisting of three sources of water going into a large pool.

“You’re heading down there,” Noe said. “There should be someone waiting for you.”

Mehdi stared at Noe blankly, as the Mage gestured behind himself. “I’m going that way, to the office. It’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

“How will they know I’m a Mage?” Mehdi asked, already imagining trying to explain that he wasn’t a liar.

“Just give your name and hometown,” Noe responded, already walking away.

Mehdi clutched his bags. This was the worst. He looked down the steep staircase, and looked back at the mess of his bags, and took a deep, pained breath.

The bags slipped from his hands, and he started to inch down the steps, one foot at a time, gripping one strap between his teeth. By the time he reached the plaza, a light rain had started, and Mehdi feared his own distress had caused it.

That was, of course, ridiculous. Adreday had been two days ago, there was no way he was the only anxious Mage coming to Nevan. There was no way only one anxious teenager could cause a rain.

Up close, the fountain was taller than Mehdi’s home. Dozens of spigots released water, in cascading waves, even as the rain softly fell. If he had not been wet, lugging bags around, and starving, he might have even been entranced by such a display.

The fountain was surrounded by three buildings, each a yellow-tan color, a sort of pale brick Mehdi had never seen before. Large windows and pillars towered over him, and all he could do was look around in desperation, his bags slowly losing grip in his hands.

Where in the heck was he supposed to go?

Mages dressed in full regalia walked across the plaza, ignoring Mehdi. His eyes darted to their cuffs, noting the blur of tiny little shapes, the only thing he had been trained to look for. He was drowning in a sea of black and white, alone and confused.

Noe, as it turned out, had been an absolutely abysmal guide.

Mehdi opened his mouth, but nothing could be said. He’d have to make eye contact with someone to get their attention. And that alone was far too much for him to handle. And it was still raining! Worse still, was when he looked upwards, no other part of the city was visible. Slate gray walls were built along the paths and the flat rooftops, as if to give the impression that nothing else existed.

“Going somewhere?” a soft voice asked behind him.

Mehdi whipped around, to see a vibrant shock of green amongst the sea of black and white Mages.

He was a feminine man. If not for the trousers and coat, Mehdi might have thought him a woman. The Tower had long dirty blond hair that cascaded freelly down to his shoulders, long, slender, pale fingers that held an unlit white, narrow pipeholder. In the other hand, was a large, bulky burlap bag. Most notably, however, was the ragged burn scar across his left eye.

Mehdi blinked a few times, as if trying to make sure the man was real.

The man idly chewed on his long pipe. He once again softly asked-- “Going somewhere?”

“I’m--” Mehdi mumbled, his face hot. “I’m supposed to be a Mage--I became one this Adreday. I’m just a bit overwhelmed. Sorry if I bothered you.”

The man smiled with thin lips. “Well, lucky for you, I’m the doctor for the barracks.”

“Oh!” Mehdi said, brightening.

“Folks around here call me Towcard, let's get out of the rain,” Towcard said smoothly.

Mehdi nodded and followed. Towcard headed towards the building to Mehdi’s left, and Mehdi eagerly followed.

“You’re pretty early,” Towcard said. “Usually the only people here by now are the ones who lived in Nevan.”

“I dunno, things just happen” Mehdi said, not at all about to explain the situation of his sister and the rogue Mage.

“There’s a reception desk in the main hall,” Towcard continued, opening a wooden door, and gesturing to Mehdi to walk in first.

“Oh--” Mehdi mumbled, as he gripped his moistened bags.

Towcard tapped his pipe holder against the wall, emptying it of ash, and clipped it onto his coat. He extended his hand, and glanced at Mehdi’s many bags. Mehdi gave a brief smile of relief, and gave two of them to Towcard.

“You’ll need a check up anyway, so I’ll just do that first. Then you can go and get your room and whatever else it is,” Towcard continued. “I had to leave my patient because I was out of supplies. So you’ll have to wait.”

Mehdi nodded quietly. As far as he was concerned, Towcard was the greatest man in history. He was currently quite willing to kill a man for the Tower.

The path to Towcard’s destination involved going down a set of wide, marble stairs, and then down another set of stairs that were far less impressive, and then a winding hallway with no windows, and dusty gaslamps that just barely illuminated the hallway in a sickeningly yellow glow. Mehdi could swear he heard a buzzing coming from the static flames, but couldn’t imagine why.

“Here we are, Doctor Michel Bisset, that’s me!” Towcard hummed to himself, gesturing at the dingy plaque hung on the door that Mehdi could barely read. “The doctor is in.”

Underneath the plaque, Towcard flipped a little sign that said OUT, so that it said IN.

The doctor removed a necklace of keys from around his neck, which had six keys on it. Five were small and utterly unremarkable. The sixth was a large, hefty silver key that was nearly three times the size as all the other keys.

It was one of the mundane keys that opened the door.

“I thought your name was Towcard,” Mehdi said quietly.

“I said that’s what I was called,” Towcard corrected.

It was quite possible Towcard was actually a bit of a weirdo.

Towcard opened the door to a spacious and darkly lit room, unlike any doctor’s office Mehdi had ever been in. There were assorted velvet lounging chairs at the front, and then an assortment of beds a few feet away, and then two doors that lead elsewhere on the other side.

There were two Mages sitting in the velvet chairs, and sitting on one of the beds, zoned out, was a boy Mehdi’s age, shirtless, covered in red splotches across his skin, and messy blond hair.

“I made a friend!” Towcard said happily, glancing at the two Mages. Mehdi glanced down at their cufflinks. One was obscured, but the other was a Regent. And much like the one he had met in Bricketfriar, this one also had a vibrant streak of white across their short, brown hair.

The two Mages briefly glanced at Mehdi. He could feel their miasmic disdain emanating as they judged his scrawny frame and disheveled appearance. Truly now he was going to die.

“Towcard you’ve been nearly gone an hour,” one of the Mages snapped.

“I cannot be in two places at once,” Towcard said, setting the bags down. “Perhaps you could have gone to get it instead, Gustav.”

The Regent who was apparently called Gustav, rolled his eyes. “You’re so damn gross.”

Mehdi stared down at the ground, and backed against the wall, to hide his confusion at the interaction. He would have to figure out how Towcard insulted Gustav later. His strategic retreat was interrupted by stepping on something that yelped in response.

Mehdi cursed under his breath and toppled over the creature he had accidentally stepped on. It was a black foxlike creature, with incredibly short fur. His cousins had trained cats called wildkits to hunt, and they almost looked like this thing, save for its mouth being elongated like a fox, and instead of ears, there was exposed, white skull.

The creature whimpered and rolled over, staring at Mehdi in annoyance, making a low, growling noise.

“Hey!” Towcard snapped, as he pulled out large jugs of--something. “Be nice to Jes! She never hurt you!”

“S-sorry!” Mehdi sputtered, standing up and trying to make apologetic hand gestures to the creature. “What--what is it--she--what?”

Towcard grinned. “A rare, magical species of animal. It took me three years traversing to find a breeder, and even then, I only got her because she had been mutilated.”

Mehdi stared at the creature cautiously. Great. He had almost killed something more valuable than him.

“It’s called a Hunting Labrador Dog.”

“Ohhh,” Mehdi whispered. “I just always assumed dogs were just a fake animal for stories.”

“Nope!” Towcard said musically. “Damn rare though. Used to be they were in every household, but now they mostly only exist in picture books. You can pet her if you want, but she does like to bite.”

Mehdi would have rather died than pet the creature.

“I’m good,” Mehdi said, stepping away.

“I would say dogs are quite common, actually,” the Mage who wasn’t Gustav cut in. “I know many of them. For some reason, all women.”

Gustav snorted. That one, Mehdi got. He gave a polite laugh, and the Mage beamed in pleasure at momentarily capturing the room.

A moment later, Gustav’s face became serious again, and he stared at Towcard who was now pouring some of the liquid into a small cup, and telling the young patient to swirl and spit.

“Towcard. The key, please.”

Towcard smiled. “Can’t do that with non Mages present, I’m afraid.”

“Towcard, they’re both initiates.”

“Not until training starts,” Towcard replied without missing a beat. “Besides, the other kid hasn’t even been signed in yet.”

Gustav’s face twisted in annoyance. “I have authority.”

“Yes, you do, in secure environments. And this is not secure--open your mouth, big and wide--good--”

A gloved hand poked into the blond boy’s mouth, who kept averting eye contact at every possible moment.

“You made us wait,” Gustave snapped.

“Yes. Because I needed to restock and you wouldn’t do it. So I had to do that first, and then I could get to you, to tell you that, no, you may not have the key at this time,” Towcard continued smoothly.

“Let us fetch Raphael. This woman listens to him,” the other Mage sneered. The two Mages left without another word, and Towcard cackled to himself as he patted the back of his patient.

“All right, Barnabus, was it?” Towcard asked.

The blond boy nodded.

“You’re good to go. But I’d recommend taking your shirt off as little as possible,” Towcard said. “Or you’ll be eaten alive by your bunkmates.”

Barnabus nodded silently, quickly buttoned an ill-fitting gold embroidered jacket, and left without another word.

Towcard walked over to a different bed, patted the surface, and stared at Mehdi.

Mehdi put down his bags, feeling relief finally, and walked over.

“Sorry you had to hear such foul language,” Towcard said, “Mages, I’m afraid, have a short fuse when they are reminded of rules.”

“I’m sorry they called you a woman,” Mehdi said politely.

Towcard laughed. “Honestly I just think it’s funny. They aren’t even insulting me correctly.”

Mehdi frowned. “Not insulting you… correctly?”

“Oh yes. You see, they mean to imply I have intercourse with other men. But instead, they say I’m a woman, not because they think I’m a woman, because if I was a woman, it would be actually expected and quite good of me to do so. So it is an entirely ridiculous approximation of the social transgressions they accuse me of.”

Mehdi had no idea how that was funny or an incorrect insult, but he wasn’t about to question the man with the tiny rubber hammer.

“So, what’s your name?” Towcard asked, filing through a stack of papers.

“Mehdi Lucrece.”

“Lucrece huh? And where are you from?”

“Bricketfriar,” Mehdi asked.

Towcard paused, and brightened. “Oh! Well, happy coincidence, so am I!”

“Oh?”

“Oh yes! Let me just--Bricketfriar… Bricketfriar…” Towcard muttered to himself as he filed through the papers. “Good news, you’re not an imposter, pretending to be a Mage!”

“Thanks,” Mehdi said, not feeling very thankful at all.

“Do you know of the Blanche family?” Towcard asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Mehdi replied. They were only the most powerful family in Bricketfriar.

“Have you heard of Andrea and Jesebelle Blanche?”

“I think so--Andrea’s my age?” Mehdi said, trying to remember the girl who had become a lighthouse on Adreday.

Towcard snorted. “Not quite. If they were still alive they’d be geriatric by now, but I used to know them when I was younger. Jesebelle and I even got quite along.”

Mehdi shrugged. “Okay.”

Towcard smiled, staring off into the distance. “Please get on the scales, and remove your shoes and shirt.”

Mehdi looked over at the massive, rusty contraption against the wall, and sighed.

“My sister and I used to spend our early days traipsing the manor. The Bissets were lower class nobility, but because of them, we’re both doing quite well. My sister, Odette, is married and lives in Fayon. And I came here to help all future Mages,” Towcard continued. “Got any siblings, Mehdi?”

“Just the sister,” Mehdi said, as he glanced at the weights move.

“Ah, is she younger than you?”

“Older.”

“Married?”

“Nope."

There was an awkward silence as Towcard focused on his doctoring. Mehdi’s weight was taken, and then his pulse, his vision, his balance, and his oral hygiene were all tested. Towcard continued to talk about his life in Bricketfriar, which Mehdi knew he should probably pay attention to, but he really didn’t care. He knew what Bricketfriar was like, and he didn’t care about the Blanches at all. Hearing about fancy parties in the Blanche wine cellar just didn’t sound like his concept of a good conversation.

It just sounded like more indulgence and needless activity, the very thing that had made him feel gross during Adreday.

Eventually Towcard stopped trying to involve Mehdi in his rambles and Mehdi was allowed to exist silently, only having to speak to give report of his health. The liquid Barnabas had to spit was given to Mehdi, and it tasted like medicine, only worse. He didn’t know what it did to his mouth, but afterwards it felt like his breath was colder than before.

“And with that, you are quite done, Mehdi,” Towcard said, grinning. “Any questions before I send you off into the world? I know quite a lot about this base.”

Mehdi had many, many questions. But the stress of the conversation with Noe weighed on him, and the sneering of the Mages before as well. Towcard was pleasant, but now Mehdi wasn’t sure if asking him anything was a good idea.

“When do I find out my subcore?” Mehdi asked.

“About a month into training, usually. They like putting you through drills first, get your heart prepped for it. How good are you at running?”

“I’m abysmal at it.”

“Shame.”

Mehdi wanted to ask about the strange key conversation, or why some Mages had streaks of white hair, or why that first conversation had insulted Gustav so, or why Mages didn’t seem to care about all the miasma they gave off, with their cursing and angry and lazy personalities.

Instead he smiled and took Towcard’s signed note of his health, so unreadable that Mehdi couldn’t make a single letter out of the scribble. He gave a quick, polite wave to Jes the dog, picked up his bags, and strolled out, with Towcard yelling instructions to the main hall as he walked.

He made his way out of the twisting hallway, this time glancing to the ceiling, where black orbs magically floated above him ominously, and out into the fresh open upstairs, with large windows that let sun and air in.

Sure enough, after following Towcard’s half remembered instructions, he came across a luxurious dark brown desk, with a short line of Mage initiates, soaked through to the bone from the rain.

Mehdi took a deep breath and smiled.

The other initiates did not glance at him, even for a moment.

Mehdi’s smile slowly shrunk and his chest deflated. He slouched over, and chewed the inside of his lip. He strangely didn’t really miss his parents, or his sister, or his home. No, instead, in this moment, he missed Padgett.

What a strange feeling. He didn’t even know why.

Not wishing to think about anything anymore, Mehdi cast his eyes downwards, and settled to the back of the line to wait patiently for his turn.