Florian was struck by the smell of flowers right as they began to bloom as he closed in on the keep. The man who had been dispatched to summon him – a man that later introduced himself as Michael – led him through an immaculately kept garden. Children were hard at work, tearing at weeds with a remarkable amount of skill and doing whatever else needed doing in a garden.

The sight was not too dissimilar from Dover, which had always been a hive of activity. Florian thought about the forge for the first time in a while, remembering the kids that would come and pick up equipment for Dover’s defenders. It would have been comical, seeing those children lugging armor that was nearly twice their size, but it was more of a somber reflection of the times that one’s survival depended on their ability to contribute.

Still, Dover had not possessed a garden such as this. Florian frowned at the opulence in front of him and focused on Michael’s back rather than the admittedly beautiful flora. Michael led him to the front door of the keep, which was not so dissimilar in size to the gate. Michael loudly announced their presence, and it opened with a loud groan, pushed open by guards from the inside of the building.

The guards themselves were wearing armor much like the Warriors, but a key difference struck Florian as he entered the keep. These men wore green capes on their backs, emblazoned with some kind of blue lion emblem. It was honestly impressive, reminding Florian of the knights from his favorite movies and series. The guards wore neutral expressions as they let Michael and Florian pass them by, closing the gates without making a single sound of exertion.

Florian passed through a maze of hallways and staircases, his silent companion guiding him. There, in front of yet another set of oversized doors, Michael heralded Florian. “Florian Cale, Warrior and apprentice to Theodosius Norundyos!”

Then Michael pulled the door open, indicating to Florian that he should enter when Florian didn’t immediately step forward. Sucking in a breath of air, Florian crossed the threshold and into a well-illuminated room. Windows let ample amounts of light into the room where a single table sat dead in the center.

“Mr. Cale, thank you for joining us!” Jones called out, waving him over to an empty chair by his left hand. Theo occupied the seat to Jones’ right, and the two appeared to already be mid-meal. Their plates were fully loaded with chicken, potatoes, and the same kinds of fruit that Florian had seen earlier that morning. Jones held a glass of red wine in his hand as he continued to talk to Theo as Florian found his seat.

He found his own plate to be loaded with the same kinds of food, and it took all of his willpower not to dig in. Instead, he folded his hands in his lap and waited. It didn’t take all that long for Jones to wrap up whatever he had started with Theo, which sounded an awful lot like Jones airing grievances about a few of the neighboring human strongholds.

“Welcome, Mr. Cale,” Jones began. “How have you found your stay at Leeds thus far?”

“The barracks are comfortable, and the job is pleasant enough,” Florian replied.

“That’s good to hear.” Jones took a bite of his chicken drumstick that he held like a miniature club. “As Mr. Norundyos’ first apprentice, I’d like to offer you a position tutoring other students in the art of magic.”

Florian thought about that proposal, shoveling potato in his mouth as he did so. Eventually, when he didn’t reply, Jones continued.

“Mr. Norundyos has found that teaching my guards can be a somewhat tedious task to do on his own, and would like to alternate days with you. In exchange, Mr. Cale, I would consider this your method of contributing to Leeds, and would not assign you any other work on the days that you are not called to teach.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but I’m not sure that I can reliably teach others to do what I do,” Florian explained, Jones bristling. “It’s mostly guesswork on my part.”

“Ah, but Florian, you have learned from me, and I have taught you all that you know! You owe me a great debt,” Theo added, taking a sip of wine from his own glass. The words infuriated Florian; he had learned the majority of his skills through his own innovation, and Theo had offered precious little in the way of making things easier.

“No, I don’t. I taught you English, and I helped you protect the house for months. I’d say we’re even on that front.”

Theo stroked the beginnings of a small, golden beard. “I taught you magic, Florian. What else could you want? I do not see-”

“Heal my leg. You said it was possible,” Florian offered, cutting Theo off mid-rant.

It was dead silent in the hall. Everyone, including Jones, had stopped eating. Florian and Theo stared at each other, willing the other to back down. In the end, it was Theo who looked away first. The wizard cleared his throat. “If you perform your duties satisfactorily, I will heal your leg.”

“In that case, I’ll teach until your students can cast a fireball. Will that be enough?”

Theo nodded. “That will be sufficient.”

The tension in the room dissolved. Florian smiled. It took quite a lot out of him to cast a fireball large enough to torch a tree, but a regular, less-impressive fireball was a lot simpler. He had been able to do that for a couple months now, back when he could only hold up the illusion spell for just barely under thirty minutes. In just a few months, Florian would have his left leg back, and then he could truly think about adventuring out on his own and find a boat that could take him across the Atlantic.

“When do I start?”

“Now.”