“So you’re going to have extra classes with Thelonious on Fesdays?” Sparrow swirled the wine around their glass. They sat at the bar in The Guild of Magic, and Eva was there polishing a wine glass (which made more sense than in The Pub, given how much wine was actually ordered, but still felt like a standard bartender thing to do). Askavel was laying on his back, taking a nap as someone stood by the mission board.

Theo nodded. “Yeah, he’s making a big deal about how important writing is.” He scoffed, bringing the beer to his lips (which, it turns out, the Guild of Magic did have – although if asked about which he liked more Theo would lie and say he preferred the beer at The Pub). Sparrow furrowed their brows.

“I mean yeah, there’s a lot I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Theo’s confidence in that statement faltered as he saw the way Sparrow looked at him, before tripping on its own feet and falling backwards off a cliff.

“Writing is an essential skill. As my apprentice you are going to need it, so don’t treat it so flippantly. I promise you’ll understand just how useful it will be in future.” Theo flushed (and wished he could have blamed it on the drink) and nodded. He looked around, pausing. Askavel was still napping, little tufts of flame leaving his nose as he snored. The person looking at the mission board had taken one of the slips and had shown it to Eva, who was nodding and writing things down.

“Funny you should bring up the future.” Theo segued, and Sparrow raised an eyebrow. He sighed, collected his thoughts, and continued.

“That’s why I came to find you today. I…” Theo trailed off. His hands gesticulated, trying to pull threads into a coherent sentence.

“I didn’t know what I was getting into when I accepted this. The training, the learning, all this stuff that isn’t music.” He paused, hands continuing to gesture at nothing. His eyes wandered, following the mission-taker as they left the guild.

“All I wanted to be was goof around The Pub and play music.” Theo half-muttered, half-complained. Eva perked up from the bar at the mention of competition, and Theo silently mouthed a “sorry” in her direction. Sparrow looked at Theo the way they did sometimes, where they looked through his skin and examined his soul. Theo swallowed, mouth dry as he reached for the beer.

“So your plan, for the rest of your life, was to do exactly what you’re doing now?” Sparrow asked, pointedly. Theo looked sheepish. When it was phrased like that, it felt a bit silly. Still, something bothered Theo that he couldn’t quite articulate. Sparrow sighed, and the irritation dropped off their face.

“Look, I get it. This is big and you’re learning a lot of stuff. But that’s not a bad thing. It opens up options. And there’s nothing wrong with living a simple life, and doing what you love. But I promise you that it’s worth it to explore.” They grinned at Theo, and gave him a moment to think. Theo looked around, at the guild, at Eva, at Sparrow, and wondered why he preferred The Pub. Objectively, it was a nicer place. And putting aside the fact that The Pub was functionally his second home, the guild didn’t have nearly the same charm to it.

Theo dug deeper. He looked at Sparrow, and thought back to every complaint he’d had. What kept coming back, what made him hesitant about the training, about what they were doing.

It clicked.

“I want to play music. I want to be a proper bard, one who performs and sings and does that. Not just action magic, but music for music’s sake.” Theo stated, and realised with every word how true it was. And that was part of why he preferred The Pub – it was a place of music, where he performed music, and got to do what he loved, with people he loved. While The Guild was good, it was more business, and magic, and adventure. Which was nice, but not The Pub.

“Ah.” Sparrow nodded, and fell silent. Theo just drank from his beer for a bit, the only sounds coming from the squeak of wine glasses being polished, and crackling flame coming out of Askavel’s snoring mouth.

“I think it’s great that you know what you’re looking for. And I hope you keep playing at The Pub every night, even if it’s just for a little bit. A lot of people lose sight of the art at the centre of action magic, and I know you don’t want to think about the magic, but it’s important.” Sparrow said, quickly continuing before Theo could interject.

Sparrow coughed. “For a college of bards, the College of Song sure doesn’t teach much music.” Sparrow mused, with a crooked smile (as if there was egg on their face, but easily removed egg). “Of course, you’re also only one day in, and it’s a bit early to say, don’t you think?” Sparrow asked, rhetorically.

“Looking at the first year timetable, it truly doesn’t have a focus on the music in education. And the reason for that is simple: everyone approaches music differently. We cannot teach a singer music the same way we would teach a drummer. So we leave the craft mostly to each student, and encourage things like the Arts Exchange, which you’ve seen and listened to in the courtyard. We trust that every bard will have their own artistic practice, and will work on it themselves. What we teach is everything around that, in order to train bards up that can do a number of things, or find their own path. This includes combat support, magic-enhanced entertainers, diplomats, wandering jack-of-all-trades, and even spies.” Theo was processing the fact that the performer’s circle was officially called the Arts Exchange when his attention was drawn to the last word Sparrow had said.

“And every option I mentioned includes the ability to perform music, but for your skills and abilities, I feel like you’d be better off in some combination of the latter three.” Sparrow had continued while Theo was still thinking.

“Wait, did you just say spy?” Theo asked. He quickly looked around to see if people were reacting to that phrase. Nobody was paying any attention to them, and Eva even looked bored. Sparrow laughed.

“One of the many reasons I like to drink here is because nobody will care if we talk about sensitive topics. But yes, I think you would be a great spy. Disguised as a diplomat or wandering bard, with our charisma and general abilities we are often tailored to espionage. There’s a reason that’s an entire class I teach.” Sparrow explained. Something clicked inside Theo’s head.

“So the diplomatic mission you just came back from, was-“

“Yes, that was an espionage mission, as well as a diplomatic mission.” Sparrow said. “There was a genuine goal to broker peace with a dragon, but at the same time we had other goals to accomplish. I’ll tell you more if you decide to become a spy.” Sparrow paused.

“I understand why you’re apprehensive, but trust me you will get to perform music and have a great time. While I would prefer you not waste your talents, if you wished to just become a magic entertainer I won’t hold it against you. Just keep going, and I promise it will be worth all the effort.”

Sparrow smiled at Theo, and he beamed back.

---

Theo tried not to grimace as he drank the beer Alan just put in front of him. It tasted like swill after what they’d had at the Guild. That being said, Sparrow’s tab aside, this was considerably cheaper.

“You know what I heard today?” Theo swirled the stein, and Alan’s attention shifted to him. He quirked an eyebrow as he polished a stein, and Theo understood what he said loud and clear.

“Apparently there’s five different locations in Union City that all claim to be where the Founders drank.” Theo tried to nonchalantly continue talking and not carefully examine Alan’s reactions to see what might be given away. He might as well have not tried with the subtlety, as instantly Alan froze, focus on him, stein and cloth held mid-air.

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Theo had never found Alan intense or intimidating before this moment, but he made up for it with interest. It felt like the background conversation around them shrunk as the atmosphere froze, and all that were in the world was him and Alan.

“I’m not saying anything is true or not, just that I’ve heard there’s a lot of conflicting claims about where the Founders spent their time.” Theo deflected Alan’s question, and let go of the breath he didn’t realise he was holding when Alan lightened up the pressure.

“Right, after your set tonight, you’re coming with me.” Alan stated, and Theo was slightly relieved that The Pub had regained its usual air as quickly as it had lost it.

---

Theo’s set went well as always, with a few favourite requests (he didn’t know why exactly Sean wanted the Donkey and the Wench every time, but he was happy to oblige), but his mind was mostly unfocused, distracted by what Alan could potentially show him as proof that The Pub was indeed where the Founders used to drink.

His head was filled with thoughts of armouries and holy relics and secret grimoires, all things he’d heard in ballads.

So, of course when Alan (temporarily) handed over the reins to a waitress (partially to take orders, mostly to make sure that the place didn’t catch fire or collapse entirely), Theo was very excited when he gestured down into the cellar.

It was also his first time in the cellar, and there was the errant thought that this was a great time and place if Alan wanted to silence Theo for exposing The Pub as not being related to the Founders. Thankfully that didn’t come to pass, and instead Alan led him deeper into the cellar in silence.

They passed by rows and rows of bottles of all shapes and sizes before coming to a stop in front of a small pile of boxes in the corner. Alan gestured for him to help, and together they moved all the crates.

He carefully ran his fingers along the floorboards, and grabbed something and pulled. And there, underneath a hatch, Theo saw something incredible. It was mesmerising.

It was an ornate box, covered in whorls and curls, all flowing into each other. It was solid wood, but it still seemed alive, pulsing with some unseen energy. If Theo squinted, he could make out a staff, a sword, a note, and hands folded in prayer hidden in the flows. But at the end of the day, it was still a box. No relics or memoirs to be seen.

“This,” Alan began proudly, “is proof that the Founders truly did drink here. I don’t know why it’s been placed here, but I consider it a lucky charm.” Alan sat down on the cellar floor, and patted the box. “It’s sturdier than anything in the building.”

To be frank, Theo thought that even if the rest of The Pub was demolished, burned to the ground, and then struck by lightning, that box would still survive without a scratch.

Almost subconsciously, he reached his hand towards it, feeling a pull in his soul.

Theo’s fingers brushed against the surface of the chest, and to both their surprise, it started to glow.