Rosalyn didn’t really like her great aunt Florence. She was mean and old and she constantly told Rosalyn how much of a burden that she was and how she was useless and stupid. She had also sold all of the toys and dolls that she had packed in the satchel her father had given her, calling it payment for her residence. All she had left was a few dresses, her boots, and her two most prized possessions, her father’s satchel and her mother’s locket. Rosalyn supposed that she should be grateful she was fed regularly, got to sleep inside out of the bad weather, and that she didn’t beat Rosalyn, especially since great aunt Florence constantly reminded her of how good she had it. Overall, she wasn’t horribly mistreated and she knew it, but it had been a sad and lonely year for the little girl and she desperately wanted to see her Papa again for her sixth birthday. It was the only gift she wanted.

So, depressed and beaten down after months of lonely days in the company of the meanest lady she had ever met she had received her first bit of good news. A passing soldier who Rosalyn had fetched a pail of well water for had told her that they were starting to send the conscripts home as fighting in the north died down. She was so happy she had hugged the bemused soldier. Ever since then she has stood attentive at the small fence ringing her great aunt’s cottage, waiting patiently for any sign of her wayward Papa. Great aunt Florence’s cottage was located a few miles away from the town but was right on the path of the main road, so she watched knowing that her Papa would have to pass by on his way to report the end of his service to the local tax office. Thus began her ritual of standing there diligently from dawn to dusk waiting patiently for the return of her Papa. Occasionally she would see a returning soldier and offer them water from the well in return for information on her Papa. None of them ever had met him, but she was still happy to provide something to drink. After all, it was still several miles to town and it wasn’t their fault they hadn’t fought in the same area as her Papa. Helping the soldiers out is what her Papa would have done.

And so Rosalyn passed the time on watch in between these short interrogations by fantasizing about her Papa’s return. The first thing she would do is return his satchel. While she had grown attached to having it, as having that many places to store odds and ends was incredibly helpful, she felt the satchel’s true place was over her Papa’s shoulder. She knew that he was on his way. Rosalyn could feel deep down. So with a big smile of expectation on her face she stood there in all manner of weather playing what she would say to her Papa over and over in her head. The first thing she would do is tell him how much she missed him and beg him never to leave again.

At the start of the third week of her vigil a well dressed man wearing a wide brimmed hat walked up to the fence gate and marched right into the yard. Rosalyn was mildly disturbed by the rudeness on display, but was even more disturbed when she realized it was the the local tax officer who had visited her Papa a year ago and caused him to go away. She shrunk back in fear as he politely tipped his hat to the little girl and walked up to the front door and knocked. Rosalyn watched the newcomer with trepidation and saw when her great aunt opened the door, a suspicious look on her wrinkly, cantankerous face “No solicitors. Piss off!” Florence hissed at the visitor. The tax officer didn’t seem to let great aunt Florence’s bad attitude bother him as he put on his spectacles and looked at a clipboard in his left hand. Clearing his throat he said, “Ms. Florence Crane? I have some sad news for you. Your nephew, Jonathan Edders, has passed away serving his country. My condolences.” He handed the surprised old woman a folded piece of paper, bowed at the waist and then straightened back up in one quick motion, and then spun on his heels and exited the property just as fast as he had appeared, tipping his hat again to Rosalyn on his way out. He started whistling as he headed back toward town.

Rosalyn was stunned. There had to be a mistake! She was supposed to give Papa back his satchel and tell him how much she missed him and that she loved him. Tears started to well up in her eyes, but her sadness was interrupted by a loud “Tch.” from her now only living relative. Great aunt Florence scowled as she read the paper. “You worthless piece of crap! Can’t even leave a decent death benefit. Oh well, it is enough to get started somewhere else. This place is getting a bit troublesome to stay around.” Looking up she narrowed her eyes at her grand niece. “Bah, now what am I going to do with you brat? I already have sacrificed way too much to keep you this last year, and I don’t think I will be doing that anymore. What can we do about this problem? Hmm? Oh don’t look so confused child. I know you are stupid, but when I say problem I mean you.”

Great aunt Florence began to pace across the lawn as she watched Rosalyn finally succumb to the tears that had been previously interrupted. Stopping and smiling she proclaimed “Looks like you are a proper orphan now, and I know just where to take an orphan. Come and gather your things we are going to the Temple.”

“Alright class, now that we are done with sums for the day let us move on to geography and history.” the Sister Cham declared, swinging her ruler and pointing at a map of the continent. Her ruler was pointing to a section of map north of the Kingdom “George! Where am I pointing on this map?”

George stood and replied with the easy confidence of someone who paid attention in class “That is the Magocracy of Ken, teacher.”

“Good! Now can anyone tell me about their government? Yes, you Alfred. Answer.”

“Well teacher…” Alfred nervously started, afraid to draw the nun’s ire by getting the question wrong, “The Magocracy is led by a council made up of the most power magic users in the guilds. The positions in their government are almost all by appointment with no elections or choice from the common people. However, anyone can rise to the council by right of public combat and when a council member is replaced all of the positions they were in charge of have to be re-appointed with new people. They are not allowed to keep any of the previous employees for some reason.”

“Adequate, you may sit.” Looking at the map with a sour look on her face the nun then turned back to her class and started speaking “The Magocracy is a very volatile place children. There is great opportunity to be had in its borders, but who they will and will not do business is a fickle thing dependent on how the reigning council feels about any given neighbor at any time. Currently, they are not on good terms with the Kingdom or the Western Tribes so travel and trade is very limited to people from these locations. You would do well to look into the political climate of any place you intend to travel to before you make the trip. Now if you will open your textbook to page 73 we can start our lesson.”