The long winding road through the country of Gorteau had finally reached its end. There was nowhere else to go of any notice, save for the fishing village located on the coast. Completely isolated from the rest of the country, the residents of Harlest village enjoyed a peaceful, quiet life, free from the complications and strife of other cities and villages. There were visitors, of course, but they were few and far between, not to mention strangers.

This visitor, however, was well-known, and warmly expected. He was born here, after all, and the people of Harlest looked kindly upon locals. No matter how long he was away, or how far he went, they knew that, at his core, he was one of them. He may set out on journeys that would take him to incredible places and put him at the center of incredible events, but Samuel Bragg was still one of them.

A strong gust of wind hit Samuel as soon as he crested the final hill, and he put one hand in front of his face to block out the sudden burst of sunlight that accompanied it. It really was a beautiful day, he thought. Perfect for a journey, and even better for the end of one. For it had been a long trip, even with someone of his stamina. His feet were sore, and he longed to get off of the, particularly with some delicious hot food to fill his stomach. Coffee to wash away the exhaustion too, he thought.

With a watering mouth and a sigh of satisfaction, he continued down the hill. Now that he was this close to the end of his trip, he was suddenly filled with a desire to reach his destination as quickly as possible. Breaking into a light jog that whipped his dark blue robe behind him like a flag, he grinned widely. Not quick enough, he decided. With a spin, he flourished his hands in an intricate gesture and jumped into the air.

The wind around him faltered, then turned, actually giving him some lift as he flew higher away from the round. The wind sent his long hair into a crazy dance, and he let out an exhilarated laugh as he soared over the plains. Lone trees and outlying farm buildings flashed past under him as he flew, and several farmers glanced up from their work, letting out shouts of shock at the sudden appearance of a flying man. Samuel grinned as he passed, giving a cheery wave to those who recognized him and called him out by name.

He was spotted by those villagers that were out of their homes and began to let himself drift down as he approached the village center. He let the spell end just as he was about ten feet from the ground, and simply dropped the remaining distance, landing in a smooth crouch. The villagers gave a muttered series of gasps, then a few clapped as they realized he was uninjured. Then a few, the ones who had interacted most with him on previous visits, surged forward to shake his hand, or else clap him on the back.

“Welcome back, lad!”

“You’ve been away a while, son!”

“Welcome back, Samuel!”

“Thanks, everyone,” Samuel said, his trademark grin widening. “It’s good to be away from the city for a while. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I’ll say,” One of the elderly women in the village said. Samuel turned towards her with raised eyebrows. “Sera’s been going spare. You were supposed to be here a week ago, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Samuel said patiently. “Unfortunately, life in Milagre can be a bit chaotic. I had to deal with an issue before I could set off.”

The issue, of course, had been with the College, the only place in Gorteau where young mages could get an education. It was the best place to go if you had the magical gift, but it was hard to reach for those who lived in outlying villages. Accordingly, and with the invention of a new spell some two years ago, Samuel had created an infrastructure that allowed faster travel between two faraway points. He’d called them teleportation circles and though he tried to come up with a better name, it’d stuck.

As one of the Archmages, Samuel had felt the urge to do what he could to better the school. He’d started small with his published works, Tome of the Body and Tome of the Mind, which were detailed dissertations on the mysteries of magic. The books had been received better than he’d expected. He had no way of knowing that being the first Champion of the God of Knowledge had given him good credit, and others, from fresh apprentices to seasoned masters, were keen to hear his thoughts on the subject.

Samuel’s three years in Milagre, leading up to and well after the first major attack that the capital city had ever seen, had been marked with many changes. First had been the social sweeping of corrupt noble figures, an effort he’d taken a leading part in. Certain rights for the common folk had been neglected for too long, leading to them launching a mass revolt against the capital. That could never happen again, the Crown had decided. So, with the other leaders’ assistance, the King and his advisors began several campaigns to improve life throughout the nation.

“Speaking of Sera,” Samuel said, scratching the back of his head. “I should go see how she’s doing. If you’ll excuse me.”

The crowd parted willingly for him, letting him pass. Several people called their farewells, happy to see him alive and well. He’d acquitted himself well outside the city, and they’d all heard the rumors of what he’d been up to. He was a near-legendary figure already, and traveling storytellers told of his strength in battle, his wisdom in leading the College, and above all, his efforts to help the innocents. It did them all proud to see a local with such an aura of popularity about them.

It wasn’t a short trip from the village center to The Nook Inn, the small tavern that his childhood friend Sera owned and operated. When it had begun, of course, a man named Thomas had run the establishment, and Sera had been his prized employee. She’d always been loved by the village, a pretty and friendly face to bring them delicious food and excellent drinks. Now, over a hundred years later, her great-grandson, named after the original owner, did most of the work for the elderly woman.

As he pushed the door open and was greeted by the usual smells of cooking food, Samuel noticed that the main taproom was emptier than usual. There was a young woman sweeping the floor, obviously a new employee, and a dancing fire in the hearth. A lone musician, enjoying a break from his travels, sat in one corner, idly strumming a lute. Compared to the bustle of his arrival and the chaos he was used to in Milagre, it was a nice kind of peace.

“Welcome to The Nook Inn,” The young woman had approached him. “What can I help you with today?”

Seeing as he didn’t recognize the girl, he assumed that she thought he was an outsider. Well, in a way he was, he thought. “Just some coffee and food, please. Is Sera or Thomas around?”

“Mistress Sera is resting at home,” the girl said at once, her eyes slightly narrowed. One of the villagers who viewed outsiders as suspicious, he realized. “I don’t know where Master Thomas is. How do you know them?”

“He’s an old face around here,” a voice said. Both Samuel and the girl turned, and saw Thomas coming from the back holding a large crate. “He’s practically family, Margaret.”

“Oh,” Margaret said, clearly thrown. She turned back to Samuel with a hasty apologetic bow. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll get you that coffee right away.”

“Sit down, Samuel,” Thomas offered, nodding his head at the bar. “Welcome back. Sorry about Margaret, she’s still learning.”

“Not a problem,” Samuel said cheerfully. “It’s a nice break from how I’m usually treated.”

“You mean she didn’t immediately start groveling?” Thomas guessed. When Samuel let out an exasperated sigh, he chuckled. “Fair enough. Still, you don’t treat family that way. Coffee’s on me, as usual.”

Samuel gave a brief wave to indicate his gratitude, and Thomas set about opening the crate and moving the dusty bottles to a shelf behind the bar. A new order of wine, probably from Jyrok, Samuel thought. There were several wineries in and around the cliffside village to the north. Now that the Dagorra Forest was a safe location for travelers, trade between Jyrok and Harlest was blooming.

Margaret returned with a steaming cup of coffee, and placed it before him. “There you are, sir. I hope it’s okay. I’m still new to brewing coffee.”

“Call me Samuel,” he said, taking a sip. It was watery compared to the way Thomas made it, but he didn’t say it. Instead, he smacked his lips in appreciation, and she smiled with pleasure. “How is Harlest faring? I know it was a hard winter.”

“Oh, there are always hard winters,” the girl said, and Samuel nodded in agreement. “We fared better than expected, though the lack of fish coming in was troubling.”

“I hope my food shipments made a difference,” Samuel muttered. “I wish I could have done more.”

Margaret’s face brightened at once. “You’re the one who sent those? They helped a great deal! But I thought some Archmage sent them.”

She didn’t add that his shabby, travel-stained appearance was a far cry from the fine immaculate robes worn by the typical Archmage. He understood the missing sentence all too well, however, and had to hide a smile behind his coffee mug. No matter how long he lived, he’d always enjoy the surprise when people found out that he wasn’t like other nobles. He disliked the formality and crusty attitude that was expected at court.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Samuel said. “What’s on the menu today?”

“Just a simple rabbit stew,” Margaret said at once, looking towards the kitchen. “Thomas just finished a big pot. Would you like some?”

“Yes please,” Samuel agreed, quite enthusiastically. Thomas had a gift when it came to rabbit stew. He fished two silver coins out of the purse at his side. “Here. Keep the coffee coming, and set me up a room, please.”

She slid the coins off the counter with a graceful curtsy, then disappeared into the kitchen. Before she returned with the food, Samuel felt a familiar presence enter the range of his mana, and turned just in time to see the front door open. There, framed by the mid-day sun, was a crouched figure wrapped in a thick woolen shawl. She teetered into the taproom, looking at him with an irritable sort of happiness he knew all too well by now.

“So now you decide to show your pale face,” Sera said crankily. “What took you so long, Sam?”

“Oh, cut me some slack,” Samuel said, setting his cup down and moving over to her. “I have a lot of work to keep me busy in Milagre. You know that.”

She scoffed loudly, the very image of stubborn anger, but still allowed Samuel to wrap his arms around her. She patted his back in turn, and when they separated, she ruffled his long hair. With a swift beckoning gesture, she led him over to the fire, where two comfortable armchairs were always set. He helped her into one, then plopped down across from her.

“I need your help,” Sera said at once. “I don’t know who else to turn to.”

“What’s wrong?” Samuel asked at once, a nasty feeling in his stomach. Sera wasn’t usually this grave.

“You know the rumors of war?” Sera asked. When Samuel nodded his understanding, she gave a long sigh. “Well, an officer of the army came to the village two weeks ago, and told me that Thomas needs to go to Milagre to train as a soldier.”

“What?” Samuel exclaimed in shock, actually leaning away from her. “I haven’t heard of any drafts happening. Are you sure he was an official?”

“I’m not sure,” Sera admitted. “But he had papers with him, Sam. I think it’s real.”

“Let me check,” Samuel offered. He reached his right hand out, and out of thin air, a tightly furled scroll appeared. He quickly undid it, and spoke a quick message.

“Erik, I’ve just heard about a draft in Milagre. Is this official, or should I be on the lookout for someone posing as a Crown officer?”

“Who is Erik?” Thomas had approached without them noticing. As a novice mage, he could shrink his mana and disguise himself from Samuel’s senses. “Also, I told you I’d be fine grandmother. I don’t want you making a fuss.”

“I’ll do what I want, young man,” Sera snapped. “You’re not joining the army, not after what happened to your parents.”

Thomas’ parents, of course, had been drafted into a military when the boy was young. They’d both lost their lives before they could return home. It was an understandable reaction to the news. Sera refused to see her great-grandson take on the same risk, but knew she couldn’t do anything by herself. Samuel, on the other hand, was an Archmage and a noble, and had much more pull than she did.

There was a brief flash of light in the air between them, and Samuel snatched the new scroll out. “That was a fast response. He must be in his tower.”

“Greetings, Samuel. Unfortunately, the draft is official, and it can’t be refused. Every able-bodied man and woman that is at least sixteen are required to participate in training. We suspect a war with the Mitene Union at any time, and need to be prepared.”

“See?” Thomas said, looking down at Sera. “I can’t refuse it. I have to do my part for my country. I’ll be leaving at the end of the week, no matter what you say. You have Margaret to help you keep the inn going.”

“I don’t want that bumbling idiot girl!” Sera growled. “I want you, right where you belong. Sam, please tell me you can stop this.”

“I can’t override the crown, Sera,” Samuel said sadly. As she turned her angry gaze towards him, he held up his hands. “Please, just let me continue.”

Her frown deepened, but she gave a short wave of her hand for him to continue. Taking a deep breath, he plunged on. “Thomas has to participate in training. That much is already set in stone. But there is one thing I could do, which will keep him safe. Well, safer.”

“What might that be?” This time it was Thomas asking. He was doubtful. He knew that Samuel was a popular Archmage, but he’d never seen any sign that the mage had any real authority.

“I’ll train you,” Samuel said simply. “I’ll enroll you in the college, and name you my personal apprentice. You’ll be safe for at least two years while you learn. Then, I’ll equip you with better gear than the average warrior or mage.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sera said musingly. “Chances are that any war could be over by the time he finishes training properly. But I can’t afford to send him to mage school, Sam.”

Samuel spread his arms wide. “Do you really think I’d try to charge your for his tuition? I mean, he’s practically my great-nephew. No. I’ll pay for everything he needs.”

He leaned across the small gap between them, meeting his old friend’s eyes, determined to show her his resolve. “I promise, I will do everything in my limited power to keep him safe, Sera.”

Sera scoffed again, but this sounded more genuinely amused than anything. “You keep underestimating your potential, Sam. You have a lot more power than you like others to know.”

“So?” Thomas said, taking a few steps closer. His eyes were burning with enthusiasm at the new prospect before them. “What do you say, grandmother?”

Sera looked between the two of them, chewing her lip reflectively. She seemed to take an age to think it through. Finally, she let out a tired sigh, and sank further back into her chair. “Fine. It’s better than you becoming some unknown foot soldier. But I don’t want to hear that you’re getting yourself into too much trouble, or I’ll march to Milagre and drag you back myself, Crown be damned.”

Hours later, Samuel was standing in the small library that educated the young folk of Harlest, a notebook held in his hands.. It was the same notebook that the mages of Zaban had given him, and it was enchanted so that it had an infinite amount of pages. It was his most prized possession, of course, and he’d already filled thousands of the pages in his scrawling writing. Flipping through pages of diagrams and obscure lines about magic he’d encountered, Samuel finally found what he was looking for. The diagram for the teleportation circles that he’d invented, while familiar, still took some time to create.

“I’m sorry that my visit is so short this time,” He said to Sera, who leaned against a wall nearby. “I promise I’ll be back soon, and we can spend more time together.”

“That’s fine,” she replied with a dismissive wave. “As long as you bring my boy back.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” Samuel said with a smile, hugging her with one arm. “Ready, Thomas?”

Thomas nodded, a touch nervous. He had a large rucksack Samuel had provided slung over his shoulders, containing everything he’d need to start at the College. He too reached out to embrace Sera, and the pair shared a quiet exchange of whispered words. When they broke away, both had tears in their eyes. Samuel turned away pointedly, and crouched down to start writing the runes for the circle. It took him about five minutes, with a few corrections.

By the time he finished, Thomas was standing beside him, ready to depart. Samuel added the last rune, and narrowed his eyes against the bright flash of light that appeared as the circle charged. Ignoring the slight exhaustion that came with the mana he’d used, Samuel rose to his feet. He pulled out a small crystal, and spoke into it.

“I’m coming through the circle, Arthur.”

Standing in the center of the circle of runes, he could feel the connection to its twin in Milagre, which was coming to life just then. The tricky part of the system was that a mage was required at both ends, and very few could manage the spell that activated them. In a few years, he was certain that he could streamline the process, but for now, it was enough.

“I love you both,” Sera said. “Don’t have too much fun in the capital and forget me, now.”

“No chance,” Thomas said. “I love you, grandmother.”

Samuel met Sera’s eyes, and their shared history seemed to flow between them. Emotion welled up in Samuel’s chest that seemed to close his throat, and he gave her a single nod. She understood what he wanted to say. They were old friends, after all. Then, with a brief gesture, Samuel activated the portal, and they vanished.