Megan stormed up the stairs out of her room and shoved her way through the door. In her anger, she ignored the loud cheers and questions of her classmates. She had only one goal in mind: Find Archmage Bragg, and make him explain why she’d been chosen as his Paragon Apprentice. There were dozens, possibly several dozens of people who were more suitable choices than her. Michael, with his genius skill at combat. The young Thunderborn, who couldn’t be beaten when it came to detection magic.

Even Rachel or Jordan would have suited the role better than her, she thought, laughing in temper. So what was the idea, giving her the damn robe? It fluttered around her ankles and wrists now, and she almost forgot she was wearing it as she stomped down the long hallways of the College. The people that she passed didn’t. Half of them simply carried looks of stunned disbelief that a mere second-year could be selected. The other half bobbed their heads and touched hands to the middle of their foreheads, the mark of respect between mages.

She ignored all of them. She didn’t care that the others felt cheated by her being chosen, and she sure as hell didn’t want the respect due to a role that she didn’t deserve. She was going to Bragg’s tower, and she was going to make him take the robe back. She didn’t want all this trouble. All she wanted was to finish her studies and go back home. She was going to start a business selling potions, not waste her years studying under the eccentric Archmage of Knowledge.

The hallways were quickly becoming more packed the closer she got to Bragg’s tower. Nearly a quarter of the students and faculty were gathered here, shouting questions at the attendant who stood guard there. They wanted to know why Samuel had selected Megan to be his Paragon Apprentice. Join the line, she thought with a snarl, shoving people out of her way. There were shouts of anger that quieted as soon as they saw the gold trim on her robes.

The attendant saw her coming and instantly moved to assist her. She felt his hand touch her shoulder, and instinctively smacked it away. The man looked hurt at the action, but she brushed past him roughly, seizing the door handle and yanking on it. It wouldn’t budge. She tried again in her anger, with the exact same result. Then she punched the hard oak surface of the door, and immediately regretted it. Fuming, she turned to the attendant, cradling her throbbing hand.

“Let me in!” She snapped. “I need to speak to Archmage Bragg.”

“That’s Master Bragg to you, now,” the attendant said stiffly, still smarting at her rude reaction to him. “You’d better get used to that since you’re his Paragon Apprentice now.”

She let out a sound that was half angry growl, half exasperated sigh. This attendant was starting to get on her nerves. Lifting her hand, she felt her mana burst out in an angry fire that licked her hands and cast a wicked light over her face. She spoke clearly and slowly. “Let. Me. In.”

Just then, above the hushed mutterings of the crowd, Megan heard a distinct click. Spinning around, she saw the lock on the door finish moving. Extinguishing the flames on her hand, she strode over to the handle once more and pulled the door open. Then she hesitated. Archmage Bragg had clearly noticed her presence here, even possibly realized that she’d been prepared to attack his attendant. He knew she wanted in and was offering her a path.

There was no way in hell she intended on playing to his tune, she thought. If he wanted her to walk up those stairs and knock politely, then he was in for a shock. She released her grip on the door and pulled her mana to life, directing it up through the roof, to a stop about sixty feet up, which she knew would be somewhere in his tower room. Then she muttered a quick and quiet string of words and felt herself move.

The Archmage was standing behind his desk, facing the window that overlooked most of the campus. She appeared about five feet on the other side of the solid wood desk, her hair flying as she dropped a foot or two to the floor. Once she’d regained her balance and stood up straight, he slowly looked away from the window to study here. Something in his expression, something that looked like a hint of deep sadness, stopped her from speaking or doing anything else.

“You could have come up the stairs and knocked politely,” He said, echoing her earlier thought. “There was no need to enter in such a rude manner.”

She swayed on the spot as she stared at him, pushing back the waves of dizziness that always came after a teleport. Worse still, she’d rushed the spell and now had a pretty bad headache as a result. She could feel the pounding beginning in her head and soothed it at once with a rush of mana. Then she looked around the room. She’d thought all the Archmage towers were protected against Divination and Travel magic.

“How was I able to get in here?” She asked. “I thought it was impossible.”

“So you know about the wards that protect this tower,” he said dryly. “And yet you still tried to break in via teleportation?”

She hesitated a moment before speaking. The idea hadn’t occurred to her of what would happen if she hit the wards that protected this place. In the best-case scenario, she would have been repelled and ended back where she started. Or she could have been hurt, possibly killed. But she pushed that frightening thought away. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Samuel nearly smiled. At least, the corners of his mouth twitched. “No, I suppose I didn’t.”

She waited for him to speak further, but he only stood in silence, watching her as she fought to control the anger that was flaring back up to the surface. Normally, she was a calm person who preferred to avoid fights or altercations. She’d much rather focus on her studies, be a good student, and succeed. Getting angry and breaking into an Archmage’s office was the exact opposite of what she’d normally do. But the anger at how her day had turn out burst forth once more, and she began to shout.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” She demanded. Then, without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I was perfectly happy with my studies and my friends! I want to finish my graduation, and go back home! What makes you think I want to be your apprentice? I don’t want to be your apprentice! I don’t want anything to do with you!”

Samuel let her shout at him without interruption or reaction, merely staring at her with a look of polite curiosity in his eyes. He even looked vaguely expectant, as if he’d been sure this outburst was coming. The calm demeanor only served to make her angrier, however, and she lost control of her mana, causing a flare of fire to escape her hand and ignite a nearby stack of books.

“Why did you pick me?” She fairly screamed at him, ignoring the quickly growing flames. “There are dozens of students more skilled than me! What’s so special about me, huh? You think I have the potential to be the greatest, is that it? Well, you’re a fool if you think that. And here I thought you were supposed to be the all-knowing servant of Arcana! I’ve heard stories about the fights you’ve been in, and I don’t want any part of that! Do you even care about your students?”

In an instant, Samuel’s eyes flashed with sudden anger, and she took a step back in fear, her own rage quite forgotten. Samuel’s mana flashed across the room faster than she could blink, and though she raised her arms defensively, she knew she didn’t have enough time to resist. But the mana shot right past her, turned into water, and doused the books. Then it dissolved into steam.

In spite of herself, she was in awe. There were few mages who could work their mana without speaking. Everyone knew that Samuel was one of these, of course, but it was still a shock to see his speed in person. But what was more impressive was the fact that he could manipulate it so much away from his body. He’d turned it into water, then evaporated it, and returned it to mana, which flew back to his body at once. The violet eyes in her face were glowing faintly, and she swallowed nervously.

“Do not suggest that I do not care for my students,” he said, his voice low. “There is no length to which I will not go for those under my care.”

“O-of course,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Enough,” he said. The word was said calmly and quietly, but she fell silent at once as if struck dumb. He took several steps around his desk, coming to stand before her. He was exceptionally tall as a mage, easily over six feet tall, and he loomed over her in his silent anger. She cringed inwardly, sure that she was about to be punished for her rudeness. She’d be lucky to avoid jail time at the very least, she thought. Attacks on the Archmages were not taken lightly.

“Follow me,” he said, his voice suddenly switching back to his usual friendly, polite tone. “I want to show you something.”

He flicked his left hand, and a door appeared in the middle of his office. Opening it, he stepped through, and she followed without question. In another time, she would have paused to study the runes that ringed the doorway, to see if she could reproduce the effects shown. She had reasonable skills as a copy mage and would have loved to learn how to create an inter-planar passage like this. But she was too nervous to disobey him just now, so she went through meekly.

When they exited the door through the other end, she found herself in a huge library. Massive shelves, over a dozen feet long, were placed along the edges of the room, filling up nearly all the wall space available. The only other furniture in the room was a small collection of soft armchairs, and two desks cluttered with what looked like experiments. The second desk held a bunch of alchemy supplies, and the chair set before it was small, as if designed for a child.

“Here,” Samuel’s voice reached her from further down the expansive library. He was standing before a small section of wall free from the bookshelves. There a small table was set. In the center was an altar to Arcana, gilded with silver, for prayer. And just behind it was a painted portrait of a young man. He wore a dark blue vest with white sleeves, and his hair was a blondish brown in color, just long enough to start covering his eyes. He had a fierce look about him that wasn’t disguised by the cheeky grin on his face.

“Who is that?” She asked. She hadn’t seen this picture before, and she didn’t know of any of Samuel’s followers that matched this description. “Was he a classmate of yours?”

“His name was, or rather is, Eric Breeden,” Samuel answered. “He didn’t spend much time working for me, but what little he did means a great deal.”

The name rang a faint bell in the back of her mind. A few months ago, she’d heard one of the Guard’s Guild talking about his friend Eric, who had worked with him on a few jobs. That man had been a recently promoted Corporal. Moran, or something, she thought. But this event had taken place almost a year ago, and this Eric person wasn’t important enough that he was widely known.

“I… see,” she said. Something about Eric’s eyes in the portrait bothered her. The expression was happy enough, but there was a little inner anger painted there, which unsettled her. “How long was he your student?”

“He was not my student,” Samuel corrected her. “I summoned him to Milagre to help me prevent a great catastrophe in the future. He died just under a year ago, now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said automatically. The grief Samuel felt was palpable. “Where was he from?”

“A faraway world known as Earth,” The Archmage said. The words shocked her. She’d never heard of another world, let alone this one. But nothing shocked her more than his next words. “The same place you are from.”