As Diana walked in, the workshop smelled faintly of dust and oil. Dozens of exquisite odorless candles lit up the room. It was an expensive choice to eschew the cold, artificial light so commonly used across the city.

  The golem which guided her so far closed the door behind her. Three meters tall, carved from pure marble and shaped in the likeness of a young maiden. It took a few visits for her to stop blushing whenever the figure entered her sight.

  Though golems were rarely clothed, she had never before seen ones carved with such… attention to detail. With smooth skin of stone and eyes of faintly glowing quartz, it was a work of art. Fitting for something crafted by the best golemancer of his generation.

  The golem bowed deeply, extending an arm to guide Diana to a low seat near the workbench.

  She brushed her dress smooth and sat, the faintest scrape of marble echoing as the golem returned to stillness.

  For several minutes, Diana waited in silence. Her gaze wandered among the statues scattered around the room.

  Some were headless, others missing arms or torsos, but every single one a frozen glimpse of perfection.

  Then the door opened again. Lord Romuald stepped inside, wiping a trace of marble dust from his hands.

  “Lady Diana,” he said, settling opposite her with a faint bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure? The funds should have reached you without issue.”

  “They did,” she said, composed, “but expanding my network is hardly a cheap process. I would like to request three hundred more.”

  “Silver?” Romuald’s lips twitched.

  “Gold.”

  A soft laugh escaped him. “When I offered to include you in my designs, I didn’t expect such a young lady to be so voracious.”

  “Your golems must be plenty profitable,” she replied. “I doubt this causes you any issues.”

  “Correct,” he said, folding his hands. “Though I’d like to see more results from the sums invested.”

  “You will. My chosen approach was the right one, and I’ve already started assembling a team. My newly established contacts have provided… interesting information.”

  “Oh?” Romuald leaned forward slightly. “Please elaborate.”

  “A lady has to keep some secrets, my lord.”

  His expression clouded. “Does she, now? I wonder if I can muster those additional funds. It’s quite the amount.”

  “I could do without them,” she said coolly, “though it will slow us down significantly.”

  Romuald’s eyes narrowed with appreciation. “Clever. You remind me of your older sister. Did you know I offered her the same path before she disappeared? Back in my uncle’s time.”

  “I do,” Diana said, her tone softening just enough. “A tragic loss.”

  “Indeed. Though she never listened to my advice, her talent was generational.”

  “It runs in the family,” Diana smirked. “The listening part.”

  Romuald chuckled under his breath, and they both relaxed, discussing the details of how to deliver the additional funds.

  The marble maiden stood motionless beside them, until it was time for Diana to leave. When she finally rose from her seat, her shoulders felt lighter than when she’d entered. The golem moved at once to open the doors and escort her outside.

  -=-=-

  Morning pressed cold against David’s face as he trudged toward the academy, sleepless and aching, each step sending dull waves of pain through his skull.

  Then came a whistle. A skullsplitingly loud whistle.

  David’s shoulders tensed as he looked around, but he couldn’t pinpoint the source of the hellish sound. The street was quite empty, aside from a few men moving in the same direction as him.

  Wait…

  He cursed under his breath and lengthened his stride, his heart speeding up.

  When they broke into a jog, his composure cracked. He ran.

  A hand brushed his shoulder. Reflex took over. He twisted, raised a palm, and tried to shape an ice sphere. The attacker immediately swung a wooden baton at him.

  David moved back, trying to continue the cast. A bout of migraine interrupted him. The air popped and the failed magic circle fizzled out.

  As he was busy fighting off the closest opponent, the other three circled around him.

  He gained some distance from the most direct attacker, but he was still surrounded by four men with clubs and a heavy bag.

  He thought of the claws. He whirled around, only to see a few workers approaching. Onlookers. If I make a massacre here, my life’s over.

  The men lunged.

  David dodged low, escaping capture, constantly looking for a way out. The situation was hopeless.

  Or was it.

  In a reckless gamble, David invoked the impossible magic circle he had made as a joke in class. He didn’t even try to balance the flow—just poured everything he had into it, as fast as possible.

  The explosion tore the air apart, flinging everyone backward in a wave of rampaging mana and dust.

  David hit the wall first. His vision went black.

  .

  .

  The world returned in fragments. Splotches of light smeared across his vision, shapes trailing after themselves. His ears rang like struck metal, every sound warped and distant. For a moment he couldn’t tell which way was up.

  With each passing second, some of his strength returned. His gruelling training had made him used to mana overload and in a few seconds, he was crawling toward the academy.

  The same could not be said for the attackers. Two of them went still while the other two groaned and writhed, hands clutching at torn bloodvessels.

  David stumbled to his feet, chest pounding, and staggered away. Every step stabbed through him like broken glass, but adrenaline kept him moving.

  The academy square appeared ahead: full of guards and students. Unsure of how long it took him to get there, he crossed it without a word, ignoring the stares.

  Inside, the marble halls swallowed the noise and brought back safety. His robes hid the bruises spreading all over his body. He had made it past the entry hall and into an empty corridor before he collapsed.

  -=-=-

  “Marco? Are you alright?”

  Olen’s voice. Worried.

  David winced as he opened his eyes and got himself off the ground. “Do I look alright?”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “You look half dead,” Olen said. “Diana sent me to look for you.”

  David’s head was still ringing, and it took him a while to reconcile his words. Today was another training session with Diana and Zerik. He’d completely forgotten.

  “Let’s go.” He brushed his robes as he managed a weak nod, the echo of the explosion still ringing behind his eyes.

  “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we get you to a healer?”

  “No need.” He spat out as he stumbled down the corridor. “I’m late enough as it is.”

  -=-=-

  David entered with Olen at his side, moving stiffly, his breath shallow. The room was full of motion. Diana practiced swinging her mace. Zerik watched Lia dart between two practice dummies. Her hatchet whistled through the air, delivering powerful, if inaccurate, strikes.

  A fourth figure was there too. A lean young man was practicing with a sword. He looked about 17, his hair unkempt and his robes smudged with dust.

  “You’re late,” Diana said without turning at first. When she did look over, her jovial tone faltered. “What happened to you?”

  “Mana overload,” David muttered.

  Zerik approached, squeezing David’s shoulders and poking at his arms. “Overload? You look half-dead. Your body’s numb.” He rummaged through his pouch, pulled out a small vial, and handed it over. “Drink this before you fall over.”

  The potion burned down his throat, metallic and sour, but it brought relief enough to keep him upright.

  The unfamiliar boy took a hesitant step forward, placing his sword back to a scabbard, evidently waiting for David to introduce himself.

  David gave him a short nod. “I’m Marco. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nestor,” he said. “Nestor Asteria.” His tone was formal, his eyes darting between Diana and David.

  David started toward the weapon rack, but Zerik stopped him. ”Sit down, let the potion settle.”

  “I can train,” David grunted.

  Zerik shrugged. “Sure you can, and if you do, you’ll be deadweight during the spars.”

  With no way to rebuke the man, David sank onto a bench near the wall, back pressed to the cool stone. The rhythmic sounds of metal striking the dummies filled the room.

  He watched them move, eyes heavy, trying not to slip into the dark haze threatening his vision. Lia’s strikes were slowly gaining precision. Olen and Nestor moved cautiously, reverently implementing Zeriks feedback. And Diana—

  She kept glancing at him. Why? And it wasn’t nearly the only question gnawing at him.

  Was the attack random? Had someone sent those men for him? If so, how did they know he’d be there? Would they attack his family, too?

  His heart sped up. He pressed a hand against his ribs, feeling the ache pulsing under his skin.

  For now, all he could do was rest.

  -=-=-

  David stayed seated through most of the exercises, half-dazed, half-listening to Zerik’s booming corrections. The potion had dulled the worst of the pain, but his limbs still felt like they belonged to someone else.

  When the static exercises ended, Diana spoke up, gathering attention. “I brought something for today’s spars.” She reached into her bag and withdrew a narrow silver bracelet etched with runes. “This is a catalyst, with an abridged shield. After consulting with Zerik, properly using this spell will be the cornerstone of our strategy, but so far only Nestor is able to cast it by himself. Until we learn it, we’ll use this.”

  “There’s only one?” David asked.

  “Yes.” Diana clenched her teeth. “Custom magic items are… expensive. We’ll be taking turns.”

  She slipped it onto her wrist. A shimmering transparent wall sprang into existence in front of her with a soft hum.

  Zerik grinned and rolled his shoulders. “Let’s see if you lot can force me to bring a subordinate with me for the next session.”

  They formed up: Nestor and Diana in the back, ready to intercept Zerik’s attacks with shields. Olen stood in the front, squaring against the knight, while Lia and David flanked him.

  Zerik signaled the start of the spar and darted forward, only to get stopped by Nestor’s barrier. He weaved around, but had to step back to dodge Lia’s hatchet.

  Excitement spiked through David, dulling the pain.

  “Nestor!” He called out for cover as he advanced. Lia copied him, calling to Diana. With Olen slashing wildly, and attacks coming from different sides, Zerik was forced to keep dodging backwards.

  Finally, Lia found an angle, rushing in with her hatchet, trusting Diana to protect her.

  Zerik’s counterpunch caught against the barrier and—went straight through it, shattering it like glass.

  His fist, completely unobstructed, caught Lia on the cheek. She flew backward, hitting the floor with a grunt.

  Olen lunged from the front, but Zerik had already changed his rhythm. He stopped dodging, feinted to the side, and drove his fist into Olen’s stomach, hard enough to lift the boy off the ground.

  Before the others could react, Zerik pivoted, disarmed David, and sent Nestor sprawling with a kick that knocked the wind out of him.

  David and Diana immediately raised their hands, admitting defeat.

  “Lady Diana,” Zerik said. “A weak barrier’s worse than no barrier. With your lineage, you should have plentiful mana capacity. Use it.”

  Lia groaned. “Thanks for using me for the demonstration.”

  “You’re welcome. If you keep fighting so recklessly, I’ll do so plenty more times.” Zerik smiled. “Next round.”

  It was David’s turn to use the bracelet. The rune lines looked malformed as he activated the item, but a barrier bloomed effortlessly before him. The casting felt almost automatic, even despite his state, but the shield was wildly different from what he saw Dolen make.

  Not only was it larger, but it took more time to cast and had much shorter range–barely a few meters.

  “What’s up with this bracelet? Is the shield supposed to be so slow?”

  “Slow?” Diana’s eyes widened. “It’s my house’s abridged spell, one of the most refined in the kingdom.”

  “It’s definitely better than mine.” Nestor added. “I hope you’ll let me copy it later.”

  “Never mind that.” David shook his head as he settled into his backline position.

  Great shield or not, it didn’t matter much. This time, Zerik didn’t give them any handicap. A few moments later, another spar ended in their total collapse.

  When the dust settled, all four of them lay scattered across the floor, gasping. Zerik stood over them with his arms crossed.

  “Not bad for first attempts,” he said. “Next time, I’ll pound some proper coordination into your heads.”

  -=-=-

  When all was done, the training room started to empty. First, Zerik rushed out, then Olen and Lia, walking hand in hand.

  David shrugged as he rested.

  At least Zerik went easy on me. I don’t know If I could survive his punches now.

  Nestor asked Diana a few questions, but soon left as well, and only the two of them remained.

  Diana approached at her usual unhurried pace, mask gleaming faintly in the lamplight. “Out with it,” she said. “What happened this morning?”

  “I thought you pieced that together already. I was attacked.” His voice came out flatter than he intended. “They tried to abduct me. Do you know anything about that?”

  Her expression didn’t change, but her shoulders tensed slightly. “Why would I?”

  “You kept glancing at me all day,” he said. “You must know something.”

  She paused, then sighed softly. “I do. There were people asking around about you. Your past, where you came from, what you’re doing here.”

  “And you know that because you were asking, too.”

  “Perhaps.”

  He studied her. Normally, he’d be agitated, but he was too tired to push harder. He gave up the topic in favor of simple questions. “Who did it?”

  “I don’t know. Do you remember any details about the attackers?”

  “Four men. Should have their whole bodies covered in bruises like these.” He rolled up the sleeve of his robes, making Diana wince. “That is, if they’re alive.”

  An awkward silence descended on them. They stood like that for a few seconds. It was the first time he ever saw Diana speechless.

  “Don’t mind it,” he said as he remembered his talk with Aura. “I need a few things. Are you open to a trade?”

  “You’re quite ruthless for a commoner, aren’t you?” She shook her head, but she welcomed the change in topic. “What did you have in mind?”

  “A visit from a master enchanter. Someone discreet.”

  “Oh?” she asked, amused. “And what do I receive?”

  “An artifact. Once I’m done modifying it.”

  “I like this about you, Marco. Your bottomless audacity,” Diana chuckled. “But however do you plan to achieve it?”

  “It’s a secret,” he said. “I’m glad I’ve kept at least a few from you.”

  “You have entirely too many of those.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “It’s a maybe.” She tilted her head. “But it doesn’t sound like a fair trade. Is that all you need?”

  “I could use some references from ancient texts. Would that make it even?”

  “Depends on the texts,” she said. “Not all knowledge is accessible—or equal.”

  David reached into his satchel, pulled out a scrap of parchment, and wrote a single word in the squiggly lines of ancient script. ‘Essence’. He handed it to her.

  “I need everything that could include or relate to this.”

  “A secretive visit from a prestigious artisan and a dive into forbidden texts.” She weighed the parchment between her fingers. “If I could, I’d ask for something else instead of your hypothetical artifact.”

  He raised a brow. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Don’t pick artificer as your specialization. Become a mage.”

  “What!?”

  “For our team,” she said smoothly, “we’ll need people who can fight, not craftsmen.”

  “I’ll manage, no matter what I choose.”

  “Will you?”

  His pride flared before reason could catch up. Despite the dull ache in his arms, he started pulling in outside mana and shaped a magic circle on the ground.

  Flamestrike, the flashiest spell Dolen had taught him–the one he had fried a centipede with.

  Diana stared at him, confused, but in a few seconds, the air shimmered; a column of fire roared to life beside them, heat washing through the room.

  They stumbled back simultaneously. Diana with her hand raised protectively. David out of exertion.

  When the light dimmed, she looked at him with wide eyes behind the mask.

  He exhaled. Too exhausted to regret showing his hand. He asked quietly, “Do we have a deal?”