I could tell that my robes were dirty and not in the best of shape as I walked across the Round. More than a few cast long glances my way, either speculating why I looked the way I did or merely offended at my appearance. The Round was in the wealthiest part of town, and people did like to judge you based on appearances.

  In fairness, people judged in all parts of town, but I think appearance was more important here as it led to suggestions of wealth, family, and power.

  These were my thoughts as I walked up to the doors of my guildhall and was surprised and confused to find that the main hallway was in a bit of an uproar. As soon as I was noticed walking toward the main desk in the atrium, a half dozen young apprentices, led by Ceci, rushed me.

  “Where have you been! We’ve been looking all over for you. The letters came back and no notice about you and no, you, either!”

  Master Glimmerblade was walking down a nearby hallway and saw me and the gaggle of apprentices.

  “Back to chores, apprentices, or no Guildfest for you this year!”

  They scurried away.

  “You are cutting things close. We got word a couple of hours ago that you received your letter from the Mage Council, but you never came back to the hall.”

  “Sorry about that, master,” I said, trying to straighten my robes and doing a poor job of concealing the dirt and tears. I did not have a set of journeyman robes that self-clean and mend minor tears. These robes were made of simple, yet fine, cotton.

  He looked me over. “Yes, well, the apprentices have been searching for you all over the hall, the university, Sundance’s shop, and the wharf.”

  “The wharf?” I asked, surprised.

  “There was a rumor you were skipping town to avoid the inevitable enchanter failure at the games.”

  That made me frown.

  “But you are here, and full of some adventure, I am sure. I'm happy to hear about it later. For now, you need to clean up and make sure your magic and mind are ready for the games.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Get along!” He playfully roared.

  I sprinted up the stairs to our rooms. One master called out to me, “No running in the halls, apprentice!”

  My response was, “Training my body for Guildfest, master!”

  The mage laughed loudly and said, “Mind first, my boy. I expect you to excel there as well!”

  After I cleaned up and put on nicer robes, I began to gather what I thought I’d need for today’s events.

  I would not bring my Dwarven copper, five-socket rings, or my battlestaff into the Arena. Those would be revealed in private at my trials. Masters Sundance and Glimmerblade, while not exactly knowing what I was doing, had urged me repeatedly to keep my prodigy work as close to my vest as possible. Too many already knew some of what I could do, and they insisted that revealing too much, too quickly, would be unwise.

  Still, I could not take my battlestaff with me, but I could at least bring along the gems. If they were anywhere on me, in pockets, satchels, etc., I could still call on their powers. If they were in my backpack or dropped, then I would lose the ability to use them.

  The 28pt diamond was full of casting points, and that gave me a deep reservoir to pull from. And with a dozen other gems and ten rings on my fingers, I could pack a punch.

  The games were meant to be non-lethal, and there were restrictions. No skills or spells over third level could be used, no outside help or assistance could be offered during the individual rounds, but things did loosen up during the free-for-all. The skill and spell restitution still held, but individuals could choose to attack, defend, or support others. In the end, there could be only one victor, but it wasn’t unusual for friends to stick together as far as they could go. Allies were temporary, but they could mean the difference between making it to the final four or not.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  The final four did not mean there would be one from each of the four guilds. It could be all warriors if that’s how it works out. But when the fifth from the last champion goes down, a halt is called, and the true finale would begin after a short intermission for the crowds.

  The crowds.

  A feeling of real anxiety came over me, and I sat on the edge of my bed. There would be hundreds, probably thousands, watching these events. True, the apprentice portion of this is merely a warmup for later competitions, but it is popular.

  There was a knock at my door.

  Thankful to take my mind off those thoughts, I called, “Come in!”

  I looked up to see the guildmaster, Master Ashaa, standing in my doorway with a smile on his normally serious face.

  Standing up, I bowed and said, :How can I help you, guildmaster?”

  “I was just checking in to see if you needed anything.” He saw the scattered gems and rings on my bed and nodded approvingly.

  While I had not thought about it before this moment, the fact that my mind had been on my battlestaff and rings reminded me of some rather severe lessons that the guildmaster taught us in our staff combat training. We did not have many of them in the guild as most combat training happened with either the monk or warrior guild, but the few we did have had been memorable.

  The guildmaster led a class supported by visiting journeymen and several resident masters. Those classes were less about how to fight with a quarterstaff, which was the equivalent of a mage’s magical staff, and more about how to use magic in combination with the battlestaves.

  We had a collection of “loaner” magical staves, which were as basic as they came with two important differences.

  First, the staves were reservoirs of magical power. When you chose one, it grew warm in your hands and bonded with you. When you then fought with it, you gained extra casting points from the staff itself. For every level of spell you knew, you gained casting points in the staff.

  If you dropped the staff, you lost the points. They were not permanent, but they came close to doubling your reservoir of casting points.

  My master had been out of the city on some guild business, so we never had a chance to discuss it. But it was a very good lesson and may prove helpful to me.

  The second difference from created or looted mage staves was their appearance. They were stained a light brown with either end painted a bright yellow in representation of our guild.

  They were gaudy and ugly-looking things.

  The guildmaster told us that our guild produced these training staves for all the other mage guilds in Keelwell, and they were painted at the ends based on their own guild colors.

  I invited the guildmaster in, and he took a seat in the chair near my desk, as it was the only other place to sit in my sparse rooms.

  “There is a favor I would ask, Master Ashaa.”

  He waved his hand. “As long as it doesn’t break guild rules or the rules of the game, I am happy to help.”

  “I do not have a battlestaff that I can use at Guildfest.”

  He frowned. “Given your skills, I would have thought you would have something special enchanted by now. In fact, I got the impression, although not direct confirmation from your own master, that you were working on something of the kind.”

  I nodded. “Yes, but it is not ready for the games today.”

  I was not lying, exactly. I was not ready to reveal it, and with all the gems and rings off of it and scattered over my bed, it was technically incomplete.

  “I see.” He said, his frown deepening. “The timing of that is uncharacteristic of you, apprentice.”

  I bowed again. “Forgive me, guildmaster, but I was hoping I might borrow a training staff from the sparring room and use it at the fest.”

  “One of those old things?” He asked, surprised.

  “Yes, master.”

  They really were ugly, and beat up staves. Apprentices monkyed with them for generations and they were not always in the best of conditions. In fact, none of them were in great shape.

  “Those old things are chipped, dented, and the guild paint is worn and faded. Perhaps your master has an old staff he could lend you. If not, I’m sure I have something lying around that would be far better than those old staves. Walking into the Arena with one of those would not suggest you had a lot of confidence in your abilities.”

  “Yes, guildmaster. Exactly.”

  He stared at me for a moment, and then his eyes lit up. “You have a plan,” he half accused, half approved based on his voice and the way laughter wrinkles began to form around his eyes.

  I did not respond; I just smiled back.

  He stood. “Come with me, you young rascal. You shall have your pick of the litter. And I use the term litter with a dual meaning. They are hardly anything to brag about. In fact, I think that after the games, the younger apprentices may have some cleaning and painting in store for them. We must preserve guild appearances.”

  I had been back in my room only a few minutes when there came another knock at my door.

  Once again, I called, “Come in!”

  The door opened, and little Ceci was standing there.

  “What’s up, Ceci?” I asked.

  “A few of us wanted to know if there was anything we could do to help.”

  “A few of you?” I asked.

  Suddenly, a crowd of younger apprentices surged around my door.

  “I see.”

  I thought about my adventures earlier in the day in The Scrub and how I had to use some of my rings.

  I smiled. “Yes, Ceci. There are some very important things you could do to help.”

  “Just name it, Sir Gwydion!” She replied, joined by the voices of a dozen others.

  I walked over to my bed, where I had placed the bag of blank SUS rings. I picked it up and, turning to the,m said, “Here’s how you can help.”

  Ten minutes later, a dozen yellow-robed apprentices were running down the stairs, along the main hall, and out of the building. They were gone faster than the masters could chastise them for running and making noise.

  Guessing what was happening, a few masters chuckled to themselves and got themselves ready to walk over to the Arena. Guildfest was talked down by most masters as a waste of good research and experimentation time.

  But not one of them missed the events. Pride in their students and interest in the other guilds pulled them to the fest.

  Along with thousands of locals, too.

  While the apprentices were off on their errands for me, I decided to read a few more of Bido’s riddles from his book. There were almost always riddles during the knowledge, or mental, rounds, and even if they were not the exact riddles, getting my mind prepared was a good idea.