I bowed my head to Flynn. "Apologies for my late arrival. As you may imagine, traveling halfway across Ferris takes quite some time on foot."

"On foot?" Flynn echoed, feigning shock before shaking his head, "Torturous, I'm sure. But please, don't feel the need to apologize. I typically spend my days awaiting letters from near-strangers requesting I meet them in the middle of..."

Flynn trailed off, glancing around us before continuing, "This lovely bit of countryside."

I met his eyes, keeping my face neutral. Most of the responses that came to mind felt rude on my part, so I decided to remain silent.

The light mage's smile was unshakable. He stared at me, seemingly content to let the silence stretch. After about five seconds, he shook his head and half-turned back to the camp. "I'm about to eat lunch. Why don't you join me? I hate dining alone, and I'd bet we have some catching up to do."

I nodded and, after pausing to unload my packs into a small pile next to Flynn's tent, found myself sitting at a table with the man.

It was a wide wooden thing, carved and polished and gilded until it shone like a star. I could lean forward and see my reflection on its surface, which felt the height of luxury and excess. What kind of man brought such a thing outdoors?

Several guards had laid out a small lunch for us, consisting of bread, meats, cheeses, and sandwiches. Food practically spilled off Flynn's plate, and the noble ate with less manners than I would have expected. I watched him tear off a chunk of his sandwich, chewing and swallowing it in seconds before popping a handful of berries into his mouth. Crumbs clung to his face, and he brushed them away absentmindedly with one hand.

I picked at my plate, having already eaten a simple meal of dried trail rations. They tasted like shoe leather and left my jaw aching, but they were also one-tenth the bulk and weight of tastier fare.

Flynn was the first to break our silence. He leaned forward, pointing at me with the edge of his sandwich. "Not to sound rude, but what do you want with me? I know we had that little duel, and it was undoubtedly fun, but it was a year ago. Hardly cause to come calling now."

I pushed my plate forward and replied, "I have no interest in dancing around it, so I will cut to the point. The last time we met, you extended me an offer. I came here to see if that was still on the table."

Flynn's hand paused, sandwich hanging just in front of his mouth. His eyes landed on me, and I saw the surprise there. After a second, he seemed to gather himself and continued eating.

"No offense," Flynn said through a mouthful of food, "But the rumors don't inspire confidence."

"There are rumors?" I asked, not sure how that connected to what I had said.

"Of course. Your old lord has done his best to bury them, but people talk. Stories have spread about some upstart Aether mage who abandoned his lord, then showed up in the famed city without winter to knock around and embarrass a bunch of young mages."

Flynn chuckled at that, shaking his head before continuing, "Funny, but they don't change my answer. No, that offer isn't on the table anymore."

I had expected as much and replied, "My lord, I know my word means little but—"

Flynn held up a hand, "I'm going to stop you there. I tried to recruit you from another noble house. I was never interested in blind loyalty. I don't care that you refused last time, and I don't mind that you waited this long to come around. The problem is what you're offering."

The light mage leaned back, his meal forgotten as he weighed me. Finally, he continued, "Last time we met, I was a Mist, and you were a Haze. We fought, and even though I held back, you effectively beat me. You were a mage worth a damn, despite your starting point, and one that would help push me. It's been almost a year, and how far have you come since?"

"I know that my progress has...slowed to a certain degree," I said after a second.

"Slowed?" Flynn repeated with a laugh, "It's not slowed. It's stopped. I came here hoping you'd be a Cloud, ready to knock me around this camp. That would've been a fun fight. But there's no point bringing you into my family. Not anymore."

His words stung, and I let them hang for a few seconds as I weighed my response. I had expected some push-back, but hearing it so bluntly still knocked me off-balance.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Finally, I said, "You once told me you believed magic comes from a need, not a want. You felt the highest heights were attainable only through friction and rivalry from two mages of near-limitless ambitions pushing one another."

"I did, and you're not that mage anymore," Flynn said, "You were the last time we met, but you've lost your drive somewhere along the way."

"Then let me prove myself. Let me show you I still am that mage."

Flynn raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Seconds stretched, and the silence grew uncomfortable as he examined me. Finally, he leaned forward and asked, "What really brought you here?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could reply, I felt his power swell. Light mana fell across my mind's eye, and I shrank away as a strange, metaphysical glare seemed to burn, not at my body but at my Aether.

"If you lie, I might stop being so polite," Flynn remarked, his face cool and his amber eyes icy.

Despite his warnings, I still debated lying for a moment. But the reality was I saw no point in it. Flynn would uncover the truth, as the Forgetenders had, and that would shatter any trust we might build between now and then.

Honesty it is, then.

"About eight months ago, I trained as a healer under a master mage. While doing so, I inadvertently fell into a plot to assassinate a noble. I was deemed a loose thread in need of trimming."

"I see. And who might be the ones holding the scissors, as it were?" Flynn asked, tilting his head to one side.

"The Silent Ones."

Flynn whistled, his eyebrows raising. "Quite the accomplishment, so long as your goal is making enemies. Most mages will die without even meeting one of them. It's almost prestigious, in a way."

"Forgive me if I disagree."

Flynn chuckled, replying, "Let me see if I get it right. You left the Esttons to run about on your own, making enemies with some mages along the way. They want you dead, so your plan is to join a new family, and what, make it our problem too?"

"Truthfully, I was hoping they would rather avoid a conflict with the Sions," I explained.

"Oh, they would. They hate us, but they also know better than to come calling."

"Why do they hate you?"

"Could be a few things, but I'd guess it has to do with my great-grandfather burning the head of their order to ashes about a century ago," Flynn said with a shrug, "Tends to leave hurt feelings, as I understand it."

I was beginning to second-guess coming to Flynn, but pushed past my discomfort. "I...see."

Flynn shrugged again, continuing, "That aside, you said you want to prove yourself. How exactly would you do that?"

"I propose a wager," I said, leaning forward in my seat.

"A wager?" Flynn snorted. You can't seriously want to duel again. I can promise you that's not going to go your way."

"Not a duel, no," I shook my head, "There is a village a day or two to the east of our location. I visited it about a year ago with some friends. We encountered a drake during our time there, which had taken up residence in the nearby hills and grasslands. We fought it, but the five of us proved wholly insufficient to kill it."

Flynn's eyes sparkled, and he grinned. "Ahh, I see what you're getting at now."

I nodded. "You said I have lost my drive. That I am incapable of growing with the same ferocity as before, right? Give me the chance to prove you wrong."

He did not respond immediately, which felt like a good sign. Instead, he rubbed his jaw, his eyes distant as he considered my words.

It was a decent wager, all things considered. A drake, even a weak one, was more than a match for the average Mist, and this one had already been above the chaff the last time we met. It might have grown even stronger in the year since we met, becoming an unbeatable foe.

It was also possible Lord Estton had followed through, and the beast was dead, but my recent brush with those bandits had led me to assume otherwise. This was a small town on the outskirts of Ferren land. I doubted many would be rushing to risk their lives against a dragonkin.

"Let's say I agree," Flynn said, "What do I get out of it if you lose?"

This was the part where I had struggled the most. I had weighed a dozen separate wagers, ranging from simply handing over some gold if I lost to a complex scheme involving 'accidentally' losing magical notes on the Everforge.

Even thinking about that last possibility sent an unpleasant thrum through my core. Magical oaths operated on intent, not literal words, and purposefully leaving behind information on the Everforge seemed more than enough to trigger a backlash.

In the end, honesty remained the best policy.

"Whatever you feel is an appropriate price," I finally said, inclining my head towards the man.

"Quite the open-ended wager," Flynn remarked.

"Consider it a gesture of friendship. I am trusting you to set fair terms."

Flynn stared at me for a few seconds. Then, abruptly, he smiled.

"Hell, why not? I didn't think you'd give me as good a fight as you ended up managing. Might as well see if you can surprise me again. If you win, you proved me wrong. If you lose, hey, drakes need to eat, too, right?"

I blinked. "You...want nothing in return?"

It was technically an insult, but I would accept such a slight with a smile and a laugh.

Flynn snapped his fingers. "Oh, right. Hmm, how about that pet of yours?"

My heart froze. I had kept Fortunatus tucked away in my backpack, just in case. He was a magical beast, after all. How had Flynn—

"Rumors, Vayne. Remember, rumors spread amongst nobles like wildfire," Flynn tapped the table with one finger. "So, here's the wager. You kill the drake, I'll bring you into my household, and we'll tell those assassins to stick their knives in some other poor bastard. If you lose, you're on your own, and I get your magical cat as payment for wasting my time. Do we have a deal?"

Flynn held his hand out towards me, his smile the same mixture of friendly and dangerous. His eyes glittered as if daring me to accept, and I glanced at his palm as I weighed my decision.

There was every chance I would fail. If I did, I would be handing over a magical beast. An intelligent beast bonded to me. I could break our familiar bond, which might cause injury, but that didn't strike me nearly as much as the idea of trading away Fortunatus. He might be a cat, but he was smart enough to speak with me. I could feel his emotions, not as well as my own, but clearly enough to understand them. Could I really give him up like some cheap prize?

Then, I felt the cat's mind brush against mine. Pride rippled through our bond, clear as a bell.

"Arrogant. Prove him wrong."

Those few words carried a depth of ego that I had not expected. Fortunatus found Flynn's confidence insulting. He wanted—no, he demanded that I best him. Who was I to deny that?

So, I reached out and clasped his hand. Flynn squeezed hard, and I drew upon my Aether, strengthening myself enough to more than match his grip.

Flynn's smile grew wider. "When do you plan to go hunting?"

I released his hand and stood, rolling my shoulder as I gazed eastward. It would take at least a day to reach the town, and the longer I waited, the better chance I had of getting a knife between the ribs.

"No time like the present."

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