Ace_the_owl
patreon
Chapter 109. The Archmage's Warning
🕑 Added 2025-06-07 12:58:42 +0000 UTCThe meat pie was perfect. Flaky crust, tender beef, and just enough gravy to make each bite satisfying without being messy. Old Mari's food had always been exceptional, but now that she'd expanded beyond her original place to stands throughout the city—including this popular spot in the merchant district—everyone knew it.
"Excellent as always, Mari," Sir Gaius said, taking another measured bite. "Though I have to say, your new dessert offerings are quite the pleasant surprise."
"Oh, go on with you," Mari called from behind the counter of her bustling stand, waving a flour-dusted hand at him while simultaneously directing two assistants. "Took you long enough to try them. I've been serving apple tarts for three months now."
"Three months? Has it really been that long since my last visit?" Gaius chuckled, wiping grease from his beard with a cloth napkin. "Time moves differently when you reach my age."
"Your age," Mari snorted, pausing in her supervision of the evening rush to give him a pointed look. "You're not that much older than me, you old fraud. And don't think expanding to five stands means I'm too important to call you out on your nonsense."
Adom nearly choked on his pie. The most powerful mage in the Empire was bantering with the woman who now ran the most popular food operation in Arkhos like they were old friends. Which, judging by their easy familiarity despite the crowd of customers between them, they apparently were.
Gaius caught his expression and smiled. "Mari and I go back quite a few years. She used to cook for the city guard before opening her first place. Made the best field rations I've ever tasted."
"Field rations," Mari called over, apparently listening to every word despite juggling orders for a dozen customers. "That's what you're calling my cooking now? Field rations?"
"The finest field rations in the Empire," Gaius amended solemnly.
Mari made a dismissive noise but Adom caught her grinning as she handed a wrapped pie to a well-dressed merchant's wife.
The Archmage looked nothing like what Adom expected. No flowing robes, no staff, no visible symbols of office. Just a solidly built old man in a simple brown coat and worn leather boots, sitting at one of Mari's small tables like any other customer. His gray hair was tied back in a practical knot, and his hands—currently wrapped around a meat pie—were calloused like a laborer's.
If you passed him on the street, you'd think he was a retired blacksmith or maybe a former soldier. Not the man who could probably level a city block if he felt particularly motivated.
"Now then," Gaius continued, settling back in his chair, "how are your studies progressing at the Academy? Xerkes has quite the reputation for producing exceptional mages."
"It's fine," Adom said.
Gaius waited, clearly expecting more. When none came, he chuckled. "Fine. The response of youth everywhere when questioned by their elders. Your professors would probably describe your work differently, I imagine?"
"Probably."
Another pause. Another chuckle.
Adom took another bite of pie and settled in to wait. He'd learned, over the course of eight decades, that old men—particularly old men with power—had their own rhythm for conversations. They liked to circle around topics, test the waters, establish comfort before diving into whatever they actually wanted to discuss. Rushing them was not just rude; it was counterproductive.
Besides, he was an old man himself now, even if his reflection disagreed.
"And what about friends?" Gaius asked. "Making any meaningful connections? The Academy can be quite competitive. Sometimes that breeds camaraderie, sometimes the opposite."
"Some."
"Ah. The mysterious 'some.' And romantic interests? Surely a young man of thirteen has begun to notice the fairer sex?"
Again, Adom nearly choked on his pie. The question was so unexpected, so thoroughly awkward coming from the Archmage while sitting at a crowded food stand, that he had to cough twice before managing a response.
"Not really."
"Not really," Gaius repeated, his eyes twinkling with what looked suspiciously like amusement. "How remarkably honest of you. Most boys your age would either boast wildly or turn red as a tomato. You've done neither."
Because most boys my age haven't lived through the slow decay of watching everything they loved burn while the world ended around them.
...Okay, that was dramatic.
"I'm focused on my studies," Adom said instead.
"Admirable. Though perhaps a touch single-minded? Balance is important, you know. The mind needs variety to flourish." Gaius finished his pie and set his plate aside. "Speaking of variety, how is your family's guild faring? Wangara, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Your father must be proud to have a son showing such magical aptitude. Guild families often struggle when their children pursue paths outside the traditional trades."
Adom's grip tightened slightly on his fork. "He's managing."
"Managing," Gaius mused. "Another wonderfully diplomatic answer. You're quite economical with your words, aren't you?"
The old man's tone was gentle, conversational, but Adom could feel the weight of attention behind it. Like being studied by a particularly patient scholar who'd found an interesting specimen.
"I prefer listening," Adom said.
"Do you now? How refreshing. In my experience, most people—especially young people—prefer the sound of their own voice above all others." Gaius leaned back in his chair, watching the bustling crowd around Mari's stand. "Though I suppose I'm hardly one to talk, given how much I've been chattering away."
A comfortable silence settled between them. Mari's voice drifted over the crowd as she called out orders, mixing with the quiet sounds of the evening rush. Adom finished his pie, set his fork down carefully, and waited.
The Archmage was going somewhere with this conversation.
Gaius reached into his coat and pulled out a small leather purse, counting out coins.
"Keep the change, Mari," he called over the crowd.
"You always tip too much," she called back, but she was smiling as she said it.
"Thank you, Mari," Adom said, standing from the small table. "The pie was excellent."
"Come back anytime, dear. And bring your friends here more often—they need the feeding."
Gaius chuckled as they made their way through the evening crowd, past merchants closing their stalls and families finishing their dinners at the scattered tables. The sounds of the district—haggling voices, clattering wheels, distant music from a tavern—faded as they walked toward a quieter side street.
"I've been speaking with Merris recently," Gaius said once they'd found a more private stretch of road. "He confided in me about a certain student. Eren, I believe his name was. Quite remarkable, from what I understand. And sponsored by you, no less."
The traitor.
The thought flickered through Adom's mind, directed at Merris for sharing information about Eren. But it faded almost immediately. Merris was many things—politically cautious, occasionally frustrating, prone to long speeches about Academy tradition—but he wasn't someone who betrayed confidences lightly. If he'd told the Archmage about Eren, he'd had good reason.
Still, it was unsettling to know his business was being discussed at the highest levels.
"Would that be a problem?" Adom asked.
"Oh, no. Quite the opposite, actually." Gaius paused beside a streetlamp, its warm light casting long shadows down the cobblestones. "It was very good of you to hide him so far from the Empire. Very prudent. I've decided to take him as my disciple myself."
Adom blinked. "Your disciple?"
"Indeed." Gaius resumed walking, hands clasped behind his back. "The timing works out rather well, actually. I've been having some... disagreements with His Imperial Majesty regarding the deployment of young mages. He's been pushing rather aggressively to reinstate certain old practices."
The way he said 'old practices' made it sound like something distasteful he'd found stuck to his shoe.
"What kind of practices?" Adom asked, though he suspected he already knew.
"Frontline service for Academy students. The Emperor believes that mages, even children, represent resources too valuable to waste on extended education when they could be contributing directly to our military efforts." A pause. "He's quite passionate about restoring the Empire to its former glory. Believes we need every advantage we can muster to maintain our position against... the recent threats."
Adom felt something cold settle in his stomach. "And you disagree."
"I believe," Gaius said carefully, "that sending children to die in foreign wars is both morally reprehensible and strategically shortsighted. A dead thirteen-year-old mage contributes nothing to the Empire's long-term interests, no matter how spectacularly they might burn before dying."
They walked in silence for a moment. Around them, the city continued its evening routine—lamplighters making their rounds, late shoppers hurrying home, the distant clatter of carriages on main thoroughfares. Normal life, proceeding as if the most powerful man in the Empire wasn't casually discussing the possibility of child soldiers.
"The Magisterium's position on this matter is quite firm," Gaius continued. "We've made it clear that Academy students are under our protection and jurisdiction. His Majesty finds this... limiting."
There was something in the way he said it. Something that suggested this disagreement was heading somewhere much more serious than heated discussions in council chambers.
"How limiting?" Adom asked.
"Limiting enough that I suspect we'll be having much more heated conversations about it in the coming years. Perhaps heated enough that the nature of our relationship with the crown may need to be... reconsidered."
Adom stared at the man beside him. "Why are you telling me this?"
It was a fair question. He was thirteen years old, a third-year student with no political connections or influence. Why would the Archmage of the Empire be sharing what amounted to state secrets with a kid from a trading guild family?
"Well," Gaius said, "I've just taken your protégé as my disciple. Seemed only fair to explain why I felt it was necessary to remove him from the Empire's immediate reach. Young Eren is... remarkably gifted. Leaving him within easy access of people who view talented children as expendable resources struck me as inadvisable."
That made sense. Sort of.
"And," Gaius continued, glancing at Adom with those sharp eyes, "you seem mature enough to handle adult conversations. I find it refreshing, actually. Most people your age either panic when presented with complex information or nod along without really understanding the implications."
"And you think I understand the implications?"
"I think you understand quite a bit more than most people give you credit for." Gaius smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'd like to continue this conversation, actually. Perhaps after the prince's trial concludes? I'll be rather busy until then, but afterward... yes, I think we should talk again."
Adom nodded slowly, his mind racing. The prince's trial would be in two months. Which meant Gaius would be occupied with the political fallout from that mess, the noble families scrambling to distance themselves from their former ally, the delicate work of managing an Empire whose crown prince had just been arrested for treason.
And then he'd want to talk again. About what, exactly?
"I'll look forward to it," Adom said.
"Excellent." Gaius stopped walking and turned to face him fully. "Oh, before I forget—when is your krozball tournament?"
Adom blinked. "You follow krozball?"
"Huge fan, actually. Been watching Academy matches for years. I heard you made the team this year—quite impressive for a third-year." Gaius's eyes lit up. "I'm planning to attend if my schedule allows."
"It's in two weeks," Adom said.
"Wonderful. I'll do my best to be there." Gaius smiled, and this time it did reach his eyes. "Good luck. And don't forget to have fun with it—too many young people get so focused on winning they forget to enjoy the game itself."
"I'll try to remember that."
"I'm sure you will." Gaius tipped his head slightly—a gesture that was somehow both casual and formal. "Good evening, Adom."
"Good evening, Sir Gaius."
The old man turned and walked away, disappearing into the evening crowd. Within moments, he was just another figure among the many, indistinguishable from any other well-dressed citizen heading home after dinner.
Adom stood under the streetlamp for a long moment, watching the spot where Gaius had vanished.
The Archmage had just told him there might be a war coming. Had taken Eren as his personal disciple. Had suggested they continue their conversation after the political chaos of the prince's trial died down.
And somehow, despite everything, Adom felt oddly... hopeful.
*****
Adom made a quick stop at another vendor on his way back toward the Academy district. Four honey cakes wrapped in paper—two for himself, two for Sam, and something not sweet for Zuni. The elderly baker smiled as she handed him the packages.
"Thank you," Adom said, counting out coins.
"Come back anytime, young man. And mind you don't drop those on your way—"
A scream cut through the evening air.
Not a playful scream or the kind of yell that came from haggling gone wrong. This was the sharp, desperate sound of genuine terror. Around him, people stopped mid-conversation. Heads turned. Someone gasped.
Adom pocketed the honey cakes in his inventory and moved toward the commotion.
The crowd was thick, but he could hear shouting now, and what sounded like... growling? Something large was moving through the press of people, causing them to scatter and stumble over each other in their haste to get away.
Another scream, closer this time.
A man shot through the air above the crowd, arms windmilling frantically as he sailed directly toward Adom.
[Levitate]
The man stopped mid-flight, suspended three feet above the cobblestones. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was making a sound that was half scream, half whimper. There was also a distinct smell of urine.
"Oh god, oh god, I'm going to die, I'm going to—" The man opened his eyes and found himself staring directly at Adom. "You... you caught me?"
"Seemed like the polite thing to do," Adom said.
"Thank you, thank you so much, I thought I was going to—"
The crowd gasped again, louder this time.
Adom pushed deeper into the mess of people, keeping the grateful man floating safely behind him. What he found in the center of the commotion was both surprising and not surprising at all.
Gus was in the middle of a street fight.
Three men were on the ground in various states of consciousness. A fourth was backing away slowly, hands raised, while Gus stalked toward him with the focused intensity of someone who was very much not done with the evening's entertainment. Beside him, barely visible except for the occasional shimmer of scaled hide, Luna prowled in a wide circle.
The shimmerscale was beautiful in the way that all perfectly designed predators were beautiful. Around eight feet of sleek muscle and intelligence, with scales that shifted color to match her surroundings so perfectly that she might as well have been invisible. Right now, she was holding something in her mouth.
Something round and pale and making muffled sounds of distress.
Gus had a metal lockbox floating above his head, rotating slowly as he prepared to drop it on the conscious man below.
That would definitely crush the guy's skull.
Adom reached out with his magic and gave the box a firm push sideways. It sailed harmlessly into a pile of empty crates instead of onto human flesh.
Gus spun around, furious. "Who the hell—" His expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Adom?"
"Hey, Gus. What's going on here?"
Before Gus could answer, an older woman pushed through the crowd, pointing at the men on the ground.
"These animals tried to rob me!" she said, voice shaking with indignation. "Right in broad daylight! Well, evening daylight. The young man here stopped them before they could take my purse."
"They had her cornered," Gus said, breathing hard. His knuckles were split and bleeding. "Four grown men against one old lady."
One of the men on the ground groaned and tried to sit up. Luna made a sound that was somewhere between a purr and a growl, and he decided lying down was preferable after all.
"Is that...?" Adom looked more closely at what Luna was holding earlier.
It was definitely a head. Specifically, the head of the man who'd been backing away, now bald and shiny as a polished egg. Luna had apparently decided that his hair was unnecessary and had removed it with... her saliva?
The man was staring at his own reflection in a shop window, touching his scalp with trembling fingers.
"My hair," he whispered. "My beautiful hair."
Luna opened her mouth and spat out a sodden mass of what had once been a fairly impressive mane. It landed on the cobblestones with a wet plop.
The bald man made a sound like a wounded animal and sank to his knees beside the pile of his former hair.
"I think he's traumatized," Adom observed.
"Good," Gus said flatly.
The sound of heavy boots on cobblestones announced the arrival of the city guard. Four men in leather armor pushed through the crowd, taking in the scene.
"What's the situation here?" the lead guard asked.
"Attempted robbery," Gus said, gesturing to the men on the ground. "These four tried to take this lady's purse. We intervened."
"We?" The guard looked around and spotted Adom, still maintaining his levitation spell on the grateful man who'd been thrown through the air. "I see. And this one?"
"He tried to run," Adom said. "Got in the way of my friend's enthusiasm."
The guards began the tedious process of sorting everything out—taking statements, binding the conscious thieves, checking the unconscious ones for serious injuries. The crowd gradually dispersed as it became clear that the entertainment was over.
The woman whose purse had nearly been stolen pressed a few extra coins into Gus's hand despite his protests. Other passersby offered thanks, praise for the quick intervention, and promises to spread word of their good deed.
Luna, apparently bored now that the excitement was over, had settled into her invisible state completely. The only sign of her presence was the occasional shimmer when she moved and the fact that the remaining thieves kept glancing nervously at empty spaces.
Eventually, the guards hauled away their prisoners. The woman departed with many more thanks. The crowd found other entertainment.
And then it was just Adom and Gus, standing in the quiet street with the evening shadows growing longer around them.
Gus was wiping blood from his knuckles with a piece of torn cloth, his movements sharp and irritated. Luna materialized beside him, scales shifting back to their natural silver-blue shimmer.
"So," Adom said carefully. "This is what you've been up to."
Gus didn't look up from his hands. "Someone had to help her."
It wasn't a lie, exactly. But it wasn't the whole truth either. Adom had heard things—whispers in the Academy halls, concerned conversations between professors who thought students weren't listening. Gus getting into fights. Gus looking for trouble. Gus who used to laugh at everything and now seemed determined to punch his way through whatever was eating at him.
Ever since Gizmo.
Adom looked at Luna, letting his consciousness reach out in the way Zuni had taught him.
"Hi, Luna," he said aloud.
The shimmerscale blinked. "You can understand me?"
Adom chuckled. "Yes, I learned recently. I was always curious to know what different species actually sounded like when I could understand them."
Gus looked between them. "Did you just—"
Adom sighed and pulled the honey cakes from his pocket. The weight of guilt settled in his chest as it always did when he looked at Gus these days. Gizmo wouldn't have died if Adom hadn't gotten involved with the Children. If he hadn't pushed that particular confrontation. If he'd been smarter, more careful, less reckless about the consequences of his actions.
He threw one of the wrapped cakes at Gus, who caught it reflexively.
"Good reflexes," Adom said. "And yes, I do understand Luna."
"Might I have some of whatever smells so pleasant?" Luna asked politely.
Adom blinked. That was... not what he'd expected. Luna sounded almost exactly like Zuni, but calmer. Much calmer. Where Zuni was all energy and curiosity and barely contained excitement, Luna had this steady, thoughtful quality that reminded him of still water.
"Of course," Adom said, offering her the second cake. "Honey cakes."
Luna accepted the offering carefully, managing to unwrap the paper without destroying the cake. "Thank you. It has been some time since anyone has offered me sweets."
Gus was still staring at them. "You're having a conversation. With my Luna. Who I've never heard speak a word."
"Apparently shimmerscales are more talkative than I thought," Adom said. He unwrapped his own cake and took a bite. "Luna, has he been feeding you properly? You look a bit thin."
"I am fed adequately. Though my bond-partner has been... preoccupied lately."
Gus opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. "What is she saying about me?"
"Nothing terrible," Adom said. "Yet."
He finished his honey cake and dusted crumbs from his hands. The evening was growing cooler, and the street had settled into the quiet rhythm that came just before full dark. A few stragglers hurried past, heading home or to whatever evening entertainment awaited them.
"Do you have a minute?" Adom asked. "To catch up? It's been a while."
Something flickered across Gus's face—wariness, maybe, or the look of someone who suspected they were about to be lectured. Which wasn't entirely wrong.
Adom had spent eighty years learning to recognize when someone was spiraling down a path that would only lead to more pain. He'd seen it in mirrors, in friends, in enemies, in strangers on the street. The particular way people carried themselves when they were trying to punch their way through grief instead of processing it.
Gus had all the signs.
Time to see if eight decades of experience could help where friendship and good intentions had failed.
Comments
Dqiakdjyy
I don't understand why Adom was behaving like an actual child in his conversation with Gaius.
Dillon Beedie
Love the Gus redemption, didn't want to see Adom forget about him and not help, I liked Gus
John Koor
It was definitely a head. Specifically, the head of the man who'd been backing away, now bald and shiny as a polished egg. Luna had apparently decided that his hair was unnecessary and had removed it with... her saliva? You meant to say scalp, right? Head would have meant a dead dude, not a guy looking at his bald reflection.
John Koor
a third-year student with no political connections or influence. Umm.. his father? And now his trade guild? Those are both significant political connections and influence.
Ace_the_owl
Thank you! Oof, I have a whole new level of respect for what movers do now that I went through this lol.
Ace_the_owl
Thank you!
Ace_the_owl
Thank you! Yeah, sorry about the mistakes there, I also spotted a few on the previous chapters that i am working on right now. I meant to write NEW trading guild family, as his father is the official head of the Sylla house, gonna correct these tonight!
musashi
Hilarious! A guy who just shut down an opportunity to communicate (with Gaius) now wants to lecture someone on "processing" loss. Ten to one the advice will make Adom feel good about himself while at the same time do nothing useful for Gus. Great chapter!
Gernot Bahle
Congrats on finishing the move :) Awesome chapter as usual, though a few passages don't make sense at all: Gaius says: ""Your father must be proud to have a son showing such magical aptitude. Guild families often struggle when their children pursue paths outside the traditional trades." Adom's grip tightened slightly on his fork. "He's managing."" But Wangara is brand new, Adoms family is not a guild family. Rather, both his parents are magic users and at least his father, incredibly well known. That sentence would make perfect sense directed at Sam, but doesn't fit the Scyllas at all. Then, second one: "It was a fair question. He was thirteen years old, a third-year student with no political connections or influence. Why would the Archmage of the Empire be sharing what amounted to state secrets with a kid from a trading guild family?" His father is commanding an incredibly powerful military unit and definitely has power, which always goes hand in hand with influence. He is NOT a kid from a trading guild family.
WanderingArchitect
Congrats on successfully moving, I moved less than a year ago. Looking forwards to more chapters!
Pseudo
Your poor hand! This is like the second time your hand got messed up in the last two months if I remember correctly. I think it needs a pay raise.
Eldar Zecore
Congrats on finishing the move and getting settled! As someone who worked as a mover for a brief time, I always recommend having a few extra people on hand specifically to no break bones (advice for the hypothetical next time lol). Good to see Gus again! Maybe he should join the workout group? Would definitely give him a good place to direct his energy besides picking fights.
Ace_the_owl
Hey everyone! So I've been in full moving mode, which as anyone who's done it knows, is basically just controlled chaos with boxes everywhere and the constant question of "why do I buy so much stuff?" During one particularly ambitious attempt to move what I'm pretty sure was the world's heaviest bookshelf, I managed to break my hand. Not my first rodeo with broken bones, so while it's annoying, it's not the end of the world. The good news is that dictation software has come a long way since the last time I needed it, though I'm definitely slower with edits right now. But here's the exciting part - now that I'm finally settled in the new place and have my writing setup back, I can promise you steady releases! I've already got about 7 chapters fully edited and ready to go, and I'm cranking out more every day. My goal is daily uploads for the foreseeable future, so you won't have to wait around wondering if I've disappeared into the moving box void.
