Wendel felt like an outsider. Everyone seemed to know each other, or at least to know someone else from the other group. The sun had set, and in spite of pressing need, Dr. Mendes had insisted that they double back to the outskirts of Two Lanes and stay in one of the inns. The Wizard’s Staff, it was called. It was a sleazy place that Wendel had never gone to in all the years of attending school at the University. Not that anyone ever invited me to go anywhere with them. There were few other patrons in the large common room, and they all kept their distance from the three tables that were pushed together for the group.

It came as no surprise to Wendel that the owners, a middle aged couple called Mark and Big John, knew Dr. Mendes and owed her their lives. It must have been an ironic nickname, because ‘Big John’ was a tiny slip of a man, though he intimidated Wendel nonetheless. The way he conducted himself, shouting orders at the serving girls and brandishing a cudgel when it wasn’t dangling from his belt. Every time one of the serving girls came over to the table, he made a big show of reprimanding her and insisted on serving the group himself. Wendel would have greatly preferred one of the pretty serving girls.

Dr. Mendes and Sevil were locked in a strange conversation that was half spoken and half gestured with strange hand signals. They sat in the corner, each with their back to a wall, and each constantly looking up to glance furtively at the door. Directly across from Wendel, the woman who was called only ‘Ravenhair,’ was eating loudly, knocking back pints of ale like they were water. Wendel thought she was very attractive, if a bit older and uncouth. On his left, the gargantuan man with the axe that probably weighed as much as Wendel, was sipping at a tankard of ale. Wendel had not heard him speak more than three words in succession, and thought he might be a bit a dim. Probably doesn’t even realise he’s travelling with criminals, poor man.

Her silver hood pooled on her neck, the little redhead was sitting next to Ravenhair, the dragon at her feet under the table. Wendel was terrified of her. Leaning was perhaps the most frightening Talent in recorded history. Entire semesters had been dedicated to studying the philosophical and historical significance of the first king’s actions and whether they had been moral. The serving boy, Demetrius, sat at the end of the table between Emile and Julie, who occupied the final corner, on Wendel’s right. Julie kept trying to ask him questions about his studies at the school, things that she couldn’t possibly understand.

“So if magic is a Language, that changes the shape of reality, how do enchanted objects work,” she proffered what seemed to be a pair of riding goggles, and held them out to Wendel, “I don’t see anything written on these.”

Wendel had only been half listening to her, staring as he was at the scantily clad waitress who was serving drinks to one of the other tables, he turned back to look at the goggles and said, “Of course there’s nothing written on them, what a stupid question.”

The girl’s face dropped. She quickly pulled the goggles back, and put them away, “I was just asking, you don’t have to be rude,” she said and then added under her breath, “Even Sevil isn’t that rude when I ask him things.”

At mention of his name, whispered though it was, the scarred man turned his attention away from his conversation with the doctor, “Don’t waste your questions on him, Julie. Very few understand the principles behind enchanting. If we ever have a few hours when we’re not in mortal peril, I’ll explain how it works to you.” He returned to his half whispered, half signed conversation with the doctor.

Wendel felt his face flush, “I do too understand how enchanting works,” he said much louder than he had intended to, “I’m just not going to waste my time explaining it to a hick when we have much more important things to be doing!”

Every eye in the room turned to the sound of his raised voice, and Ravenhair said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Oh yeah? Like ogling serving girls?”

The few other patrons in the inn laughed and returned to their own conversations. Wendel noticed that the waitress he’d had his eye on raised her hand to her face to hide her giggling. Dr. Mendes and Sevil both cast Wendel a dirty look. As if it was his fault.

Big John and the pretty waitress came over to the table, each carrying a tray of food, and he asked, “Is everything all right over here? Anything else I can bring you?” He started distributing plates of sumptuous smelling meat and vegetables.

Ravenhair reached across the table, revealing even more of her cleavage as she did so, “Jes’ another round of drinks!” Wendel realised he was staring and quickly looked down at the plate of food in front of him.

Everyone was momentarily distracted by the food, even Sevil whose plate consisted only of two raw steaks. He and Dr. Mendes stopped their conversation to eat. It had been a long time since Wendel ate a proper meal at a table. Emile was trying to pass bits of food under the table to the dragon, and seemed to be growing frustrated. “Gypsum, you need to eat!” She implored, “Well, I don’t have anything that’s alive!” She turned from the dragon, and addressed the group as a whole, “She needs to hunt.”

No one argued. The dragon needed to hunt. Emile escorted her to the door of the inn, and opened it, letting the dragon out. Wendel shuddered at the thought. When Emile returned to the table, Dr. Mendes asked, “Gypsum only eats live prey?”

Emile shrugged, picking up knife and fork, “Yes, she doesn’t like to eat anything that isn’t ‘fresh.’”

The criminal Sevil said, “I completely understand,” He cut off a piece of raw, bloody steak and brought it to his mouth.

Julie was still casting Wendel dirty looks between bites. Stuck up girl, just like all the girls at school, thinking she’s better than me just because she’s pretty and people like her. Wendel’s pleasure at eating had disappeared, and he pushed the half finished meal in front of him, placing the knife and fork on the plate, the knife through the tines of the fork to signal to the waitstaff that he did not enjoy the meal.

“You ain’t going to finish eatin’?” Ms Ravenhair said, reaching across the table boorishly, and grabbing Wendel’s plate, his neatly laid out knife and fork clattering onto the table. She scraped the remnants of his meal onto her plate, and resumed eating with vigor.

The serving boy spoke very softly, “Enchanting isn’t that complicated,” Julie’s head turned to look at him, “I can explain it to you if you like.”

“Really!” Julie’s face lit up in a warm smile, making her look very pretty, “I didn’t realize you were a mage.”

Demetrius stared at the table as he spoke, “Well, I’m not, but I’ve read a lot.”

“Oh please!” Wendel exclaimed, this was too much for him, “Even if you did understand it, it would take hours to explain it!”

Ravenhair stared at him from across the table, “Yer’ a popular fellow, I bet. Loads of friends at the school, eh?”

The huge man at his left laughed, a low rumble. Probably has him trained to laugh at her stupid jokes, like a dog. “Fine,” Wendel said, derisively, “Explain what you’ve learned in your years of scrubbing toilets at the U.”

Demetrius stared at the table for a long time, not saying anything. Dr. Mendes and Sevil were still talking in hushed whispers and hand signals at the other end of the table, apparently oblivious to the rest of the group. Julie reached a hand out, tenderly and touched Demetrius’ back. “I’d really like to hear you explain it.”

The serving boy took a deep breath, and then said, “The way I understand it, enchanting an object takes three things. First the object has to be made out of a base element. It’s preferable if it’s gold, silver, or platinum, though depending on the strength and nature of the enchantment, other elements can be used, and are some are even better than the precious metals. Lightstones, for instance, can be mass produced from quartz because it’s primarily silica. The second thing is the spell is cast almost in its entirety, therefore the enchanting process takes a very long time, even for simple enchantments. I read that lightstones take about three hours to enchant, each stone, depending on how fast the enchanter can say the words. Obviously, making a mistake, even one syllable off can ruin the enchantment.”

Julie interrupted him here, “Wait, if spells take that long to cast, how come I’ve seen Sevil cast spells like levitate in just a few words?”

Wendel smiled inwardly at this, hoping that Demetrius would be unable to explain it, but he pushed on, “There are such things as ‘remembered’ spells. Not to say that the caster simply has the spell memorized, but rather that they have already said the majority of the words, shaping reality in that direction in advance. Most of the students at the school get tested on this in their exams in the linguistics class, they must prepare a presentation of spells, and be able to cast them in quick succession. The problem is, the caster has to retain the will on the spell. Think of it like pushing a boulder up a hill, and they finish it with the last few syllables, pushing it over the edge and starting it rolling down the other side. The more spells a caster has prepared in advance, the more ‘boulders’ they are holding at the top of the hill with the strength of their minds.”

Julie cast a glance over at Sevil and Dr. Mendes, “I take it, that that is very difficult?”

Wendel thought of his own exams in the linguistics class. He had only been able to present three spells, and none of them were very impressive, but holding three spells at the ready had been incredibly difficult. Often, he wondered if he had only been given passing marks out of pity or because of his legacy status.

Demetrius examined his hands, “I don’t know from personal experience, but I’ve seen how stressed the students get before their exams. I’ve heard them say holding more than five spells is almost impossible.”

He was interrupted by Sevil laughing derisively from the other side of the table, “Sorry, continue, you are doing very well.” He turned back to Dr. Mendes.

“Wait!” Wendel exclaimed to Sevil, “What’s so funny?”

The scarred man hissed his words, his voice grated on Wendel’s nerves, “Just that students these days seem to think five is the limit.”

Wendel looked to Dr. Mendes in the corner, hoping that she would intervene, but she seemed content to sit silently, the criminal started to turn his back on Wendel again, and Demetrius started to say, “In any case, that doesn't really matter with enchanting, that’s kind of the point,”

Wendel interrupted him, “I suppose you can hold more than five? Huh? Is that why you’re still just a mage?”

Sevil turned from Dr. Mendes once more, signing a complex series to her as he did so. The doctor laughed lightly, and then shrugged, aloud she said, “I didn’t request another one, but one of the ancients seem to think he’s destined for ‘greatness.’”

Sevil looked at Wendel, and then back at the doctor, and then back at Wendel, “Yes. I can hold more than five.” There was a note of dismissal on every syllable, he turned back to the doctor again.

Emile pushed her plate away from her and said, “Where do you start? I don’t know what you mean by a ‘spell.’”

Everyone at the table, and several of the other patrons in the inn immediately started talking at once to answer the girl’s question. It was a horrible cacophony of noise, and Wendel realized that he too was explaining the elemental foundation principle before he heard the girl shout, “Stop!” The words evaporated from his mind like they had never existed, and Wendel froze. A tankard clattered to the floor, and Wendel saw that the serving girl had frozen in mid step, and everything on her tray had tipped over.

Dr. Mendes was the only one who seemed to be able to speak, and the effort seemed to take all of her strength, “Emile, dear, perhaps you should tell everyone to carry on, like they were.”

The little girl had been staring up at the ceiling, she turned to the sound of the doctor’s voice and said, “Oh, yes. As you were.”

Everyone took a breath at once, and returned to what they had been doing before. The serving girl started to clean up the spilled drinks, and to Wendel’s surprise Big John wasn’t yelling at her for spilling them. He was standing behind the bar staring at their group. Wendel wondered just how deep the debt he owed Dr. Mendes was.

Ravenhair stood up, pushing her chair back, “Peh’haps we should adjourn to our rooms?” She turned to the proprietor’s of this inn, and said, “Which rooms are ours, anyway?”

Rental of rooms had not been discussed, and so Wendel was surprised by the response, “Well, regrettably, madam, we have only two rooms available tonight.” Then he added, “I do hope that will suffice for you?” This last he directed at Dr. Mendes, crossing the room in several small, hurried steps.

Dr. Mendes smiled at the simpering man, “That will be adequate for our needs, John. Ravenhair, who will you assign to first watch?”

The buxom woman smiled like a shark, and said, “I think Julie and Demetrius should take the first watch. Sounded like he still had a lot to teach her. About enchanting.”

“Settled then,” The doctor said in a tone of voice that brokered no argument, “John, if you could be so kind as to lead us to our rooms,” she gathered up her pack, and everyone began picking up their supplies, “Emile, you will be with Ravenhair and myself. If that is to your approval.”

The girl followed Ravenhair and Dr. Mendes, and Julie grabbed Demetrius’ unresisting hand, and led him outside the inn. Wendel looked at the two men he was left with, standing around the table. Mark, the larger of the two innkeepers approached them and said, “Right this way, I’ll show you to your room.” Sevil and Toby grabbed their packs, and Wendel grabbed his, following behind. As they approached the room, Mark proffered a key to Sevil, and said, “Unfortunately, there are only two beds.”

Sevil was first through the door, and Wendel was last. The room was decrepit, at least by the standard Wendel had come to expect from Two Lanes. The floor was unpolished wood, and the fireplace was unlit and filthy. Sevil tossed his travelpack onto one of the beds, and Toby did likewise with the other bed, leaving Wendel holding his pack, standing in the middle of the room. Both of the older men began undressing.

Wendel was outraged, he spoke up petulantly, “I don’t think that’s fair at all! You two just think you should get the beds, because you were first through the door?”

Sevil continued unlacing his boots, sitting on the bed he had claimed as his own, but Toby stopped unclasping his armor, “Want to wrestle for it?”

“Oh, very funny!” Wendel felt himself struggling to keep his voice level, and kept hearing it crack.

Sevil took off one of his boots, and set it aside very carefully, “Well, we could duel for it. Standard school rules, sleeping spells.”

Wendel looked from one grinning face back to the other, “I was thinking, you know, more like a coin toss or something!”

“Fine,” Sevil said, “Toss a coin.”

Wendel rummaged around in his pockets, and finally produced a silver chip. “Would you like to call it?”

“Sure,” Sevil hissed, and Wendel flicked the coin up into the air. It tumbled and tumbled through the air, and then stopped. Wendel was sure it had stopped for a moment, but the next thing he knew he was holding it. “Heads.”

Wendel glared at the man, and flipped his hand over, when he opened it, it was heads. The ugly face of King Everard Puissant smiled smugly up at him. Toby said, “Well, that settles it then, what do you care anyway, young buck like you? Shouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor, beats the mud.”

“But!” Wendel caught himself raising his foot, and brought it down slowly before he actually stomped, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being made a fool, “You should have to flip for your bed too!”

“No.” Toby said, and took off his chest plate. It clattered to the floor like a dropped cymbal. “If you’re that determined to sleep in my bed,” he bent at the waist and patted the top of the mattress with his hand invitingly, “Then come on over. I’m a cuddler.” He pursed his lips and made kissing sounds.