1.41 Firstmage

During the week they were staying at the Naiker's hold, Castra, Isha's master made her teach the foundation of magic to Nairobi. Of course, whenever Isha made errors while teaching the Cniad woman, Castra always stepped in to correct her mistake.

When Isha asked why Castra was making her teach Nairobi instead of herself, her master's answer had been a simple one.

"Teaching someone else teaches you as well. You will discover your weaknesses and strengths. Not to mention you will get better at everything you do."

After hearing that explanation, she had continued to tutor Nairobi in magic without protest. She taught how to properly synergize mental image and intent with Mana. She explained how spells were static in nature and its parameters couldn't be changed without recasting the spells or outside help.

"Now you must be careful," Isha said. "If your spell fails mid-cast, the result can be … nasty."

"I don't understand," Nairobi said. "The test on the mural I found… It explained, if you don't intend for something to happen with a spell it won't happen at all. Was it wrong?"

Isha dipped her bread in the tea and chewed—the tea brewed to enhance the taste of the bread. "Not intentionally, but that statement is outdated and isn't phrased correctly."

"How so?" Nairobi said, swallowing her own bread. The woman was curious, if nothing else.

Isha sighed. "While it is true if you cannot maintain the mental image and your intent, the desired outcome won't happen, but Mana you release has to go somewhere, doesn't it? You understand Mana is like a living thing, it wants to happen, to change. So the resulting spell will be a mush, half influenced by your intent and imagination you've failed to maintain, while the other half influenced by its own drive to become something. The result is sometimes dangerous, sometimes not."

"Your explanations make more sense than that of the mural. I will keep it in mind."

"I am glad to hear it," Isha said, sipping the last dregs of her tea, now that the bread had disappeared from her plate. Nairobi did likewise and grimaced.

"Too sweet," the other woman said and left it unfinished. "Where is Castra, by the way? I haven't seen her all morning."

Isha finished her tea. Nairobi was wrong, it had the perfect sweetness—less than what she usually liked in her tea in fact. "She went to talk to the mayor before we are to leave the town."

"Maybe I should have gone with her," Nairobi mused. "At least tea there was better."

You mean that vile, bitter concoction with no sugar to it? Woman, your tongue needs a healer's touch.

Isha didn't voice her thoughts.

As if summoned by the invocation of her name, Isha's dark skinned master strode into the room. "My business here is done. Pack your belongings, we will leave within the hour."

"Behold, the grand treasures from my travels," Nairobi said, gesturing at her empty bed. "Shall I pack them for our journey, dust and cobwebs?"

"I wasn't talking to you, dear," Castra said in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

Isha had already packed her belongings in her bag of holding, designed to resemble a satchel that hung on her side. She had initially forgotten to pack it, but one [Message] spell to Adolf by the Mayor's [Mage] had been enough to get it within the week. She had ordered two just in case.

Isha went down to pay the [Innkeeper].

The second bag she had loaned to Castra. Though Castra already possessed one bag of holding and had used it to store the bandit's head, it wasn't nearly large enough to hold all her belongings.

After paying the [Innkeeper], Isha returned to their room. Castra was still tossing her belongings into the bag, Nairobi helping her and gawking at the bag at the same time.

Had she never seen a bag of holding before? It wasn't that rare, was it?

Isha moved to help organise Castra's belonging as well and lost herself in the rhythm of the simple task.

Someone knocked on the door. Could it be the [Innkeeper]? Isha had told him they would leave soon, was the man really that impatient? Isha could think of no one else that could visit them.

Isha had to use hands on her knees to help herself stand up and open the door. She didn't know why she was so exhausted. Maybe it came from the constant spell casting and teaching Nairobi, who could be insufferable sometimes. 

"Ah, young miss," the [Innkeeper] said. "Someone wanted to talk to mistress Castra."

The woman next to the [Innkeeper] was swathed in full plate armour, painted a darker shade of grey that reflected no light. The stranger wore no helmet—the enchantments of her armour probably extended to her head. Most enchanted armours were like that.

Isha was sure the armoured stranger was a woman, but her blonde hair was cut short, shorter than most mans'.

A flail hung on her belt, and it too had no metallic sheen to it.

How powerful were those weapons and armour? Magic emanating from them was incredible.

The armoured women turned to the [Innkeeper], the amulet that hung from her neck swaying at the motion. Even that amulet radiated Mana though not as strong. "Master innkeeper, may I have some privacy?"

The [Innkeeper] squeaked his agreement and basically ran away, down the stairs like a cat with its tail on fire.

"Kora?" Castra said, standing up from her position. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in the imperial city."

"I am here on official business. The imperial city has received your missive and will take action promptly."

"I see. Is that all?"

Abruptly, the two women laughed and hugged each other, Kora's amulet flashing. "Ah, it is good to see you, Kora. How have you been?"

That amulet … Isha's eyes widened when she recognised what that amulet meant. That amulet symbolised Firstmages, sometimes known as Imperial Mages. 

These were the individuals who were under direct control of the Empress of the Mandalin Empire. 

If the [Mages] of the same advancement level were in the same room, one Firstmage, another not. Then the mage without the title had to defer to the Firstmage even if the Firstmage was lower level than them.

Firstmage! What was someone so important doing here? And how did Castra know someone like her?

Castra gasped and spoke before Kora could answer her previous question. "Is that the armour of the Firstmage? Kora, you passed the test! Congratulations, girl!"

"Thanks! It's been only a month since I passed the tests," she said sheepishly. 

"And I see that you have advanced to Elder Mage, just one stage below Archmage, and you are what? Thirty? Now I have two reasons to defer to you."

Kora's eyes widened, and she waved her hands frantically. "Please don't do that, we are friends aren't we? And you are only 27, so you have three years to catch up. Besides, if your time wasn't consumed in training your apprentices, you would have surpassed me by now."

Castra beamed at Kora.

Isha goggled, she had never seen such an expression on Castra. Someone must have replaced her master with this foreign creature.

"Oh," Kora said. "You were simply pulling my leg."

"Um-hm," Castra said. "So how is life as a Firstmage treating you?"

Kora shrugged. "It's not as grandiose as I thought it would be. But it pays well, so I am happy."

"I see. So, what brings you here?"

"Imperial City has a mission for you."

Castra nodded, her chin resting on her finger. "And they sent you because you are a familiar face."

"Indeed."

Castra sighed. "Alright, what's this mission about?"

Kora's gaze shifted from Castra to Isha, then Nairobi. "We should discuss this in private."

Castra's cold eyes were enough to send the two of them scrambling out of the room.

"What is it about, do you think?" Nairobi said sitting on the table of the common room.

Isha shrugged. Most businesses involving Firstmages were kept a secret after all.