Keola Ash walked the halls of the Crimson Summit pagoda just outside of the Griffin Kingdom capital city. She was the most senior student in the region. After saving Caphida from his torment in the coliseum, she sent word to the rest of the students to scour the city looking for the rogue monk that caused such dishonor to their school. After several days of searching, all she had to show for it were rumors and speculation. The only piece of concrete information they managed to scrounge up was the fact that he was part of the Adventurer’s Guild. When she questioned guild master Portus Ren, he was reluctant to give any details. If he wasn’t a Flame Elf, she could have forced him to talk, but Keola knew he would be resistant to her powers. That left her with an ever approaching deadline to explain to her superiors. She would not risk her late morning rank within the school for one rogue monk. Caphida accepted a ten year service contract for her solution to his embarrassment. She would punish him if this failure came back to bite her.

She walked past all the early morning young recruits practicing on the burning coals. There was nothing like freeing your mind from the fear of getting scorched like hand to hand practice on the coals. Once they broke through their fears it will be easier to train them in the path of the flame. That reminded here of the battle between Caphida and the rogue monk. It was terribly one sided. The upstart had the weakest control of his element she had ever seen. Keola was sure he must have used some kind of item to bewitch Caphida. His aura abilities were broken again and again during that fight. There was no substance to them, as if they were hollow projections. Where as Caphida’s skill brought him to the pinnacle of the coliseum singles competition. She needed answer that she didn’t have. Finally she arrived at her private quarters where Caphida stood awaiting his next task. His shins still covered in glass from crawling around the arena floor. He opened the door for her, and she gestured for him to follow her.

“Close the door. I can feel the flame cistern welling and I’m sure Headmaster Lobate will start her scheduled communication,” Keola commanded. Caphida did so without hesitation. This room was finely appointed with a large brazier in the center of the room surrounded by five separate stone slabs. In the back of the room was a small table about foot off the ground made of burnt wood. It appeared to made from petrified wood that had survived a forest fire. On top of the table was a gray bowl with the pattern of a dragon etched into the rim with ruby quartz. As Keola knelt in front of it, the bowl began to glow orange, than red, and finally white hot giving off waves of heat. The air above the bowl began to twist and bend the light around it until a face could be seen. It was feminine in feature with two horns jutting from where the scalp met her hairline. The horns were thin and sharp.

“Keola, report,” the face said.

“Headmaster Lobate, it is an honor to speak with you this day--” Keola began before being cut off.

“I said report. I want to know the status of this ice monk with green eyes. It is very important that we gather as much information as possible. No time for pleasantries,” snapped Lobate.

“My scouts report that he is no longer in the capital honored headmaster,” Keola replied.

“So he ran from Caphida’s wrath? Shameful. Whoever his master is will be weighed down by his dishonor. I’ve sent word to the other schools since the dogs from the Azure Archipelago were in attendance. I would have liked to keep this to ourselves but here we are. If he shows up anywhere else, we will know about it. Is Caphida there?” Lobate asked.

“Yes,” Keola said hurriedly.

“Caphida, it is your failure that put us in this position. You are not allowed to advance in the rankings until you have dealt with the rogue monk. Is that clear? I don’t care what level your reach beyond your specialization. You will remain at mid-morning until you are redeem in the eyes of the Crimson Summit. Now I understand you have pledged ten years to Keola, is that correct?” Lobate asked.

“Yes,” Keola said quickly.

“That debt now transfers to me. I want him found before the other three schools locate him. If he can be broken and brought to the main branch at the summit fine. If not, there should only be ashes left. Am I understood? Now go,” Lobate ordered before the image of her face disappeared and the cistern cooled.

Caphida’s eyes were wide. Ten years indebted to the headmaster was either a blessing or a curse. That meant the headmaster would have her eyes on him all the time. If he could prove his value, she may impart on him the knowledge necessary to climb all the way to late afternoon rank. Conversely if he fails to complete this task there may be nothing left of him. This is an opportunity he could not pass up and all he had to do was kill a worthless rogue monk who showed absolutely no combat skill. He didn’t even use a weapon. Caphida was broken from his musings to see Keola was standing and a corona of flames surrounded her whole body.

“The headmaster told you to find him. Losing your debt is a minor inconvenience for me but standing there and smirking is going to cost you!” Keola screamed as she launched herself at him. She pressed her palm to his face and burnt her handprint on his face over his left eye. She focused all her mana into that hand until it turned the flames blue bypassing Caphida’s aura resistance. He fell to the ground writhing in pain.

“Are you mad! This will be permanent,” Caphida whined.

“She told you to go, now go!” Keola commanded as he scrambled for the door.

Deacon looked across the bar at the mage sitting in the back. He pondered while walking slowly what he could possibly want with him. Malcore was strong enough to knock all the people and furniture toward the door without harming them, so it wasn’t a job he was after. Deacon just hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be another hidden threat as he sat across from the old mage. Old was an understatement. He had more wrinkles than most people have hair. He wore a hooded blue cloak and had wrought iron staff across his lap. The strangest thing to Deacon’s eyes was his meal. It was just water in a mug and some seeds on his plate.

“Hi. I’m Deacon. The bartender said you’d like to see me for some reason,” Deacon said sheepishly.

“How did you do that?” asked Malcore.

“Do what exactly?” Deacon asked squinting his eyes.

“You stood in the middle of the room while people and furniture passed through you. How did you do that?” Malcore asked as he gingerly picked up a seed, cracked open the outer shell and put the remains in his mouth.

“Oh I have an ability that makes me intangible,” said Deacon with a hint of pride.

“Not enough,” Malcore said as he reached down for another seed.

“I’m sorry?” Deacon queried not understanding what he meant.

“You see, I understand how things passed through you, but it doesn’t explain how you remained standing in the middle of the room. That gust of wind spell is the height of tier one Arcana. I see the Kel’Aish over there has a powerful connection to the element of air. I would have expected him to absorb it, but he must be walking the path of an enchanter. Not a combat mage. So I ask again. How did you do that?” questioned Malcore who was now just staring dead eyed at Deacon.

“I have a boon that helps me resist elemental magic projected at me,” answered Deacon sincerely although he didn’t know why.

“Yes, that makes sense. Will you be going after the children?” asked Malcore abruptly changing topics.

“I just received that quest but yea. May I ask, why didn’t you want to do it?” Deacon questioned back.

“If you must know, I received a letter from one of my former students. Something about a war to the west. He needs my assistance with a bizarre working called Farmageddon. Preposterous, but I’ve never heard of it before, and it is very rare you get to my age and something new happens. I wish to see it before I pass,” responded Malcore before going after another seed from the plate.

“Okay, so what’s with the seeds?” asked Deacon his curiosity peaked.

“When you are old it is difficult to ingest certain foods. I find these Chalk flower seeds to be both nutritious and magically saturated. The more I eat the better I feel. Here try some,” said Malcore.

Deacon just reached over the table and picked up two of the seeds. He put one in his bag and had the other crack open on it’s own in the air in front of his face. Once it was separated into three parts, two shell halves and inner component, he grabbed the inside and put it in his mouth. As he began to chew, he felt energized. The feeling quickly faded a few minutes after he swallowed it.

“Well thanks for the seed. It was actually quite pleasant meeting you,” Deacon said as he got up from the table.

“Beware of the chasm to the north. Nothing good ever comes out of there. I hope you find the children before something bad happens. Avoid the chasm,” Malcore said as he faded from sight as if he was never there.