The Post Office was the first building on the right as you entered The Round heading east down St. Michael’s Way. While technically in The Round and therefore the center of the city, it was a poor single-story cousin to the grander buildings nearby, such as the merchant’s guild next door. It was a windowless, gray stone civic building that was nondescript in most every way, except for the bold, block-lettered sign above the doorway, which identified its function.

  I entered unnoticed amid the general confusion of customer traffic that seemed busier than I remembered as a young apprentice.

  The inside of the Post Office was oddly designed. There were three stations where customers lined up to mail letters and packages, with postal employees working behind counters along half of the back wall. Next to the postal tellers was a long series of floor-to-ceiling standard-sized personal PO boxes.

  And while that may not seem unusual, there were also floor displays and kiosks selling stamps, packaging, overnight land, air, or sea services, Duchal Bonds, and shelves with every kind of parchment, ink, and scrolls you could imagine. The writing supplies were of standard quality and nothing a mage would use in magic.

  In addition, the three walls not blocked by the tellers contained bulletin boards that ranged from fliers for local advertisers such as Packers Warehouse and Adventuring Shoppe, and Vinton’s 100 Acre Vineyards and their new amber blush wines, to more dangerous and exciting fliers.

  It was these that drew me into the Post Office today.

  I turned toward that wall when a voice called to me from the tellers.

  “Hiya, Gwydion! I have something for you.”

  I looked over and saw a postal worker busy stamping letters. The sign in the window before her read “unavailable, please see another Postal attendant.”

  I walked up to the window and flashed the elderly woman a smile. “Hi, Aunt Darla.”

  She was not a blood relative, but she and her husband, who is a professor at the university, were our neighbors when I was growing up.

  She gave me a warm smile but did not pause her work. Stamp. Shuffle. File. Stamp. Shuffle. File.

  “Great timing, dear,” she said, “I was about to send a batch of letters over to the guild halls, but the apprentices for the enchanters and sages are late today. I have a letter for you.”

  “You do?” I asked.

  “Two, actually. One letter that looks important, and a marketing brochure.” She sighed heavily. “The USPS has another clever scheme in mind, I’m sure.”

  The USPS stood for the United Spellcasters Postal Service. Its motto for the past couple of hundred years hasn’t changed:

  Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night,

  stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

  -Postmaster Herodotus

  Aunt Dara stopped her stamping and began shuffling through some of the letters in a nearby courier’s chest. I remembered carrying one of those back and forth between our guild hall and anywhere the master’s needed things delivered in the city as a young apprentice.

  After thumbing through the chest, she withdrew an ivory colored envelope along with a crisp cream-colored envelope with an embossed symbol for the Mage’s Council. Of course, I recognized the symbol at once. It made my pulse race because I doubted it was good news. Mage Council was serious business, and for a moment, I feared that I would lose my ability to sit for guild trials.

  It’s incredible how the mind works, and we jump to the worst-case scenario. But in fairness, I couldn’t think of a best-case scenario coming from the Mage Council. They had the power to govern and censure mages. I’m not sure what else they did.

  She turned back to me. “Do you have proof of identity, Gwydion?”

  I was startled. I never needed to prove my identity before. Of course, I never picked up mail from here for myself, either. “Well, no, I guess I don’t-” I began.

  “Your necklace, honey. Show me your necklace. Everyone has one.”

  “Oh, of course.” I withdrew my cognito necklace from under my shirt. I had forgotten I had it since it sort of blurred into the background as I got into the game. In fact, if it wasn’t for some of the AL communications, I would have forgotten this was even a game.

  The cognito glowed with a golden light for a moment as Dara touched it.

  She handed over both letters, but pointed at the ivory-colored one. “These are informational brochures we are mailing out. It is some kind of promotional idea from the central office. I guess since we made a slight profit last year, they decided to spend it all on a way to make more this year.”

  I nodded, only half listening. “Guess that makes sense.”

  “That’s what worries me, dear. After thirty-five years of working here, I’m not used to central office decisions making sense. Puts me off.”

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  Stamp. Shuffle. File. Stamp. Shuffle. File.

  “Thanks, Aunt Darla,” I said automatically, my eyes fixed on the cream envelope.

  She gave me an odd wave of her fingers, in a sort of A-Okay display, saying, “Be seeing you.” And went right back to stamping and shuffling.

  I moved away from the closed teller window and ignored the angry looks from other customers who had witnessed the entire conversation while standing in line. I moved off to the kiosk advertising Duchal bonds with blank forms that could be filled out and taken to the bank.

  I hesitated, but decided to open the Post Office letter first. I read:

  That letter seemed to strain the fourth wall a bit, but maybe it was intended for early arrivals. I nearly passed up the Post Office and would have missed all of this, maybe for weeks.

  I opened the brochure and scanned its contents quickly. True to its description, there was a section on the USPS and the various services they provide, such as mail and package delivery options, typical layout of their offices and locations, job boards providing public and private rewards for the adventurous-minded, Law Keeper updates, and local sporting events.

  I knew that I could purchase a P.O. box here that would permit me to receive mail anywhere across the realm. All I would need to do is show my cognito for identity verification and use a given key to open my box and receive my mail. It didn’t matter where the mail came from; it ended up in my mailbox if it was sent to me.

  I skipped over the sections on the Law Keepers and various costs for letters and packages. I skimmed a section on cultural and sporting events. Local sporting events came in several varieties, but the Arena games were the most popular.

  The envelope also provided a colorful map that could prove quite handy. On one side it showed a large territory, labeled as the Seventh Kingdom of Alluvion, that was bordered in the north by a giant wall and glaciers, to the south and west by a sea, and west by a mountain range and two stretches of wall similar to that found in the north.

  I folded the letter and placed it and the brochure back in the envelope, which I slid into my backpack. I hesitated just a moment longer and began to open the Mage Council’s letter.

  “Hey, Istari!”

  I jumped at my name. I had been so focused that I didn't notice a small group of apprentices walking over to me. None of them were from my guild, based on their robes and armor.

  There were three: two guys I knew and a girl I didn't. One of the men was a cleric and the other an elementalist who specialized in fire magic. The girl was dressed in brown leather armor and wore a short sword at her side and a half dozen or more daggers along a kind of bandolier.

  I stood and clasped arms with the tallest of the men, a cleric named Thomas. He was a classmate of my friend Steven, and we had met quite a few times. He was a good guy and well-liked by others. He was a bit louder and outgoing than Steven, but just as trustworthy. I nodded to all of them and smiled.

  “What brings you to the Post Office so close to trials?” I asked with a widening grin.

  “Same as you, I’m sure.” The elementalist said. “Checking out the quest boards to get in a little last-minute practice before the big day.”

  His name was Connor, and he was an off-again, on-again friend or competitor of my friend Addie. They were the two top apprentices in their guild. He specialized in fire while she generalized across all five elements. He was not a bully, but I was definitely less fond of him.

  The warrior stepped forward. “Since the boys won’t introduce me, I will. I’m Natalia, Connor’s cousin.”

  “Nice to meet you. As Steven shouted from across the building, I’m Gwydion.”

  She smirked as she glanced over my robes and gear. “An enchanter. That’s a kind of mage, right?”

  Connor guffawed. “That depends on who you ask.”

  “Easy does it, Connor. If we want a fourth and a second mage, maybe you could be a little nicer.”

  Elementalists did not typically hold most other mages in high esteem. But in fairness, aside from wizards who were the pound-for-pound more dangerous than any other mage, elementalists held their own as the number two. Most of the other mages were not especially trained or prepared to venture far away from their guilds and cities. If I had not been through my own mini-trials over the past month, I would have agreed with that sentiment.

  But as it was, his comment annoyed me. I was far more prepared for combat than most other mage apprentices, regardless of their guild.

  Natalyia frowned at her cousin. I could tell her comment had been meant as a joke and not something mean-spirited between rival mage guilds.

  I smiled. “It’s okay, Thomas. He’s not wrong. Most mages can’t compete with elementalists for raw heat.”

  Connor smirked back, but he did not comment.

  Playing the peacemaker, Thomas asked, “We found a quest we all agreed upon and are about to head out for a few hours into The Scrub. Want to join us? You can get an even split of the take and your share of the experience.”

  “Four is a safer group than three,” Natalyia said. She batted her eyes, and I could not tell if she was flirting or still messing with me.

  “What’s the quest, Thomas?”

  Connor nodded. “The man has brains, he asked what we planned before just committing. You need to keep your wits about you out there, and that’s a good sign. I know Addie thinks highly of your magic.”

  I knew he was just trying to smooth over his last remark, but at least he was trying.

  “It’s nothing special.” Thomas began. “The alchemists have a list of ingredients that they will pay for.” He pulled out a scrap of parchment and read, “Things like bat wings, rat tails, turtle shells, wolf claws, rubble runner antennae- whatever they are, crab legs, snake fangs, fish scales, etc. It's quite a long list, and Natalyia here says that many of these things can be found in The Scrub.”

  “And,” Connor added, “There is a little retrieval quest in the same area which could be worth a hundred gold each if we pull it off.”

  That got my attention. “Four hundred gold total? What needs to be retrieved?”

  Natalyia answered. “A ring.”

  Thomas laughed at my expression. “Yeah, rings are your things.”

  Connor added, “But you don’t get to keep this one. We retrieve it, bring it to the merchant guild who is serving as broker, and get our gold.”

  “What’s the catch?” I asked.

  Natalyia points at Thomas. “We need to retrieve it from a crypt at an abandoned graveyard. It’s why he is along.”

  Thomas replied. “And Natalyia has done the alchemist quest several times and will be our guide. It's why she is along.”

  Not being able to resist a probe back at Connor, I said with a thumb at the elementalist, “And why is he along?”

  Connor laughed again. “I’m along so that everyone else comes home with all their pieces and parts where they should be.”

  His ego aside, I did feel better knowing an elementalist would be along. Natalyia seemed capable, and Thomas was there to make sure the dead in the crypt stayed that way. I was unsure what special role I would play other than rounding out a fourth person.

  “Hmmm,” I said.

  “Oh, come on, it's during the day. What could possibly go wrong?” Connor said.

  All three of us stared at him.

  “Cousin, why’d you have to go and jinx us like that?” Natalyia said somberly.

  The elementalist laughed again even louder and said, “Come on mighty adventurers, let’s get going. Daylight’s a wasting.”

  I was already walking out the door with them before I realized that I never did open the letter from the Mage’s Council…