It’s been three days since they left the front lines when the wagon stopped near the town green of Brakenreach, wheels still wet from the muddy road. Seven passengers stepped down silently, boots thudding on the packed earth with tired resolve. The oldest among them, broad-shouldered and grizzled, still stood tall despite the burden, turned to face the six men behind him. Farm boys, all of them. Dirt under their nails. Muscles from swinging scythes and sling bales, not swords. Yet they’d marched north two months ago when the call went out. Now, only six of them have returned.

  Bertram Harengraves, the town’s sheriff, raised his hand in a salute. The others followed suit, fists over their hearts in silent tribute. Three hadn’t made it back home. That burden would fall on his shoulders. He’d have to knock on doors and break hearts. Soon. But not tonight.

  The others peeled off one by one, heading for homes they feared they’d never see again. He turned toward his own. A new sign hung above the local post, carved fresh since he’d left: Earl of Brakenreach. That part was new.

  He had seen the man, Robertson, sitting in the tent after the battle, surrounded by nobility. Clean armor, bloody eyes. A forgeworker’s posture in a noble’s chair. Bertram had tried to gauge him then. The same man who marched through the demon lines like he was threshing wheat.

  It hadn’t been the right moment to speak. His men had needed him, two still bleeding, one barely walking. But that meeting would come.

  What stayed with him, however, wasn’t the Earl. It was her, the woman beside him, the general, his wife. Allira, they called her. Her armor was unlike any he’d seen, shimmering, tightly crafted, radiating quiet strength. She hadn’t just fought; she commanded. The golems moved at her signal. He remembered that moment on the wall, when she raised a hand and unleashed fire like divine judgment.

  Then the flash. White. Blinding. Brighter than anything human. And the wind that followed. The rift had closed. Cheers had risen behind the walls. But Bertram hadn’t joined them. Not then. He had just watched. I wonder what kind of man could stand in front of all that and come out alive.

  Now he walked the familiar road to his home, every step heavy with the weight of what had changed. The door creaked open. Familiar smells met him: old wood, pepper stew, and faint lavender. Bertram crossed the house and stored his gear in the back room, closing the old closet door with a firm click.

  A figure appeared in the hallway. Aldreda, the family’s butler, continued bowing despite being older than Bertram himself.

  “Was your journey to your liking, sir?” Aldreda asked, voice calm as ever.

  “We won,” Bertram said, pulling off his coat. “But we lost three boys. Three too many.”

  “I am sorry, sir.”

  “I’ll speak to their families tomorrow. Just needed to… put some things down first.”

  A door slammed at the back of the house. Elen stormed into the kitchen, skirts swishing, heels loud on the floorboards. Behind her followed Aldo, her oldest son, her son from a first marriage. Aegus was the only one Bertram could truly call his own. “I can’t believe there’s a new Earl now,” Elen declared, pulling out a chair with more force than necessary. “What are we supposed to do, Bertram? Just roll over for him? After everything?”

  She froze mid-rant when she finally saw him standing in the doorway.

  Bertram met her eyes. “We do what we’re expected to do.” Her mouth flattened into a line. She didn’t like that answer.

  “Yes, there’s a new Earl,” Bertram said, stepping into the room. “And from what I saw at the front, we do not want to cross him.” Elen sat back, as if the words physically pushed her into the chair. She didn’t know what to do with someone like that. Truth be told, neither did Bertram.

  The scent of morning tea drifted through the hallway, rich and grounding. I heard soft footsteps just before Seraphina stepped out of the bedroom, tying the sash of her robe as she stretched an arm overhead. She rounded the corner, probably expecting breakfast or the start of it, but stopped when she saw us.

  Allira was sitting on the long sofa, back to the room, bare except for a thin throw across her lap. I sat beside her, sketchbook balanced on my knee, pencil moving slowly and deliberately as I traced the lines along her shoulders and spine. I didn’t look up right away, too focused on the details.

  Seraphina’s voice broke the quiet. “Am I interrupting something sacred, or just your appreciation of your wife’s nakedness?”

  I looked up with a small laugh. “You’ve seen through my master plan.”

  Allira let out a soft chuckle, not even pretending to cover herself. “He’s being surprisingly professional about it. Disappointing.”

  I gave her a look. “I’m trying to be focused, my love.” I tapped the notebook. “This is important.”

  Seraphina walked over, peering at the sketch. I’d drawn a series of intricate curves and arcs patterns that followed the subtle glow of Allira’s tattoos almost exactly.

  “And what, exactly, are you doing?” she asked.

  “I found a book in the library,” I said, flipping the page to show her the diagram I’d copied. “It’s about something called MageScript. It’s used to channel mana through objects or people. The book described it like mana circuitry. And what does Allira have? It’s nearly identical.”

  Seraphina blinked. “So her tattoos are spells?”

  “Not exactly. More like conduits,” I said. “They’re dormant most of the time, but they light up when she channels mana. That’s more than decoration, it’s functional.” I set the sketchbook aside. “I haven’t looked at Marlena yet, but if her tattoos are anything like Allira’s, then it’s tied to their classes.”

  Allira turned her head slightly. “You think someone built this into me?”

  I reached out and lightly ran my fingertip across her shoulder blade. “I think it’s something your class creates as you get stronger. Like an internal system evolving outward. It grows naturally as you grow.”

  I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, grateful, reverent.

  “Thanks for letting me study you,” I murmured against her skin.

  She smiled, slowly and a little smugly. Then she leaned back against me without hesitation, her skin warm against my chest, still completely unbothered by the lack of a top. The glow in her tattoos pulsed faintly in the morning light like they were responding to the moment.

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered, just enough for our cheeks to brush. “Just make sure you return the favor later.”

  I let out a soft laugh and slid my hands gently around Allira’s waist. “You can study me anytime,” I murmured, brushing my lips just under her ear. “But if I can crack this… I’ll be able to engrave that circuitry into my work. Real enchantments. Stored spells. Maybe even tools that respond like they’re alive.”

  Her fingertips trailed slowly down my forearm, deliberate and light. “Then you’d better get it right,” she said, voice low. “Because this wife of yours is already thinking about some custom updates.”

  Seraphina’s expression warmed, and she gave us both a look. “Then I guess it’s time for breakfast.”

  I set the sketchbook on the table and opened the thick magebound volume beside it. The inked diagrams shimmered faintly in the morning light pouring through the windows. Allira shifted next to me, tucking her legs beneath herself on the couch, still completely unfazed about not wearing a shirt.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Seraphina reach for the sketchbook and flip back a page.

  “What’s this?” she asked, one brow arched. “Some magical ritual? Human sacrifice layout?”

  I glanced up. “That? No. That’s Twister.”

  “…Excuse me?”

  “It’s a game,” I said, pointing to the page. “You spin a dial, and it tells the players where to put their hands or feet. It gets chaotic fast. The last one still standing wins.”

  Allira perked up, eyes gleaming with interest. “Is there a version with nudity?”

  I didn’t even pause. “Absolutely. Add some oil, and that’s one of the more chaotic house rules.”

  She leaned back, grinning like a cat that had just seen a mouse. “Then I’m definitely in.”

  Seraphina tilted her head, examining the page once more. “You can actually make this?”

  “With the fabrication floor in the tower? Yeah, no problem. Spinner dial, colored mat, maybe even enchant the surface to self-clean.”

  Her expression shifted, not confused, just thoughtful, like she was already five steps ahead. “We could sell these. My family could stock them in Brakenreach. Start small. See if it catches on.”

  I blinked. “You’re serious.”

  She tapped the edge of the sketch. “Of course I’m serious. It’s simple to play, hilarious to watch, and just suggestive enough to sell itself. Give me two weeks and a shop in the capital. The nobles will kill each other trying to get one for their parties.”

  I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I turned to her. “You really saw through my evil plan. Seduce gorgeous women and monetize awkward social tension.”

  Allira laughed. “Genius. Sexy, devious genius.”

  Seraphina smirked. “Just make sure we get the first mat. Do you have more than this one?”

  I nodded, setting the magebook aside. “Yeah. I’ve got diagrams for a few other games in my workshop sketchbook. Stuff like hula hoops, checkers, and simple board games. I want to cross-reference them first, see if anything like them already exists here before I go reinventing my old world for no reason.”

  Just then, the bedroom door creaked open and Marlena stepped out, fully dressed in her deep violet robes, hair pinned up in elegant coils. She paused at the threshold, eyeing the living room scene with a single raised eyebrow. Allira was still lounging topless on the couch, I half-buried in books, and Seraphina with that smug grin she wore like armor.

  “Well,” Marlena said, her voice light but teasing, “is clothing optional this morning? If I’d known, I might’ve skipped the robes and joined the lounge.”

  Seraphina didn’t miss a beat. “We’re discussing games from David’s old world. Apparently, some of them involve entanglement and a complete lack of dignity.”

  Marlena strolled closer, glancing down at the diagram still open in the sketchbook. “And nudity, it seems?”

  Allira stretched languidly, utterly unbothered. “He was studying my tattoos. Very academic of him.”

  “I’m sure,” Marlena replied dryly.

  Allira grinned, eyes twinkling. “He’d like to examine yours next. For research.”

  Marlena reached out and ran a hand along the back of the couch, fingers trailing lazily. “Tell you what, after I pass this test today? He can examine every inch of me. Academically or otherwise.”

  I cleared my throat, only slightly flushed, and closed the sketchbook with a soft thump. “We might need to add a recovery day to the schedule.”

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

  Seraphina laughed. “Not if Marlena has anything to say about it.”

  Marlena winked. “Motivation is important.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my book. “Is your family going to be at the test?”

  Marlena’s teasing smirk softened just a little. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I do hope you’re going to be there?”

  Before I could answer, Seraphina stood and smoothed her tunic. “All of us are going,” she said with conviction. “This isn’t just your test, it’s a milestone for our family. And afterward, we need to visit your parents as well. They still need to hear the official news.”

  Marlena blinked, caught between nerves and emotion. “You mean the marriage?”

  Seraphina gave a wry grin. “You didn’t tell them yet? You married our husband, Mar. Not a big secret.”

  Allira sat up straighter, tucking a throw over her shoulders with a content hum. “We should probably time that visit after they’ve had a drink or two. So they’re relaxed.”

  Marlena let out a half-laugh, half-sniffle, brushing at her eye. “Gods. You’re all serious about this.”

  I stood, stepped over, and wrapped an arm around Marlena’s waist. “We love you. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  She leaned into me, her forehead briefly touching mine. “Then I’ll try not to pass out halfway through the test.” Marlena wiped her eyes again, clearing her throat. “So what’s for breakfast? Because if I’m facing some death-by-evaluation today, I’d like to start with something besides nerves.”

  Allira raised a hand. “I vote for something with syrup.”

  Seraphina opened the pantry with purpose. “Then it’s decided. We’re feeding the mage like a queen.”

  The morning sun filtered through the stained glass dome above the Mage’s Cathedral combat ring, casting soft rainbows across the polished stone floor. Seraphina, Allira, Allyson, and I sat on the second row of the bleachers, close enough to see everything but far enough not to be in anyone’s way.

  Marlena stood across the ring with the other candidates, just three others beside her. All of them wore ceremonial testing robes in varying shades of blue and gray, indicating their previous ranks. Marlena’s robe was dark violet, the color reserved for mages nearing high mage status. She looked calm and composed, but I could tell from the way she flexed her fingers that she was trying to steady her nerves.

  I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and studied the arrangement. The ring itself was reinforced with some invisible barrier. I could see the faint shimmer of runes etched into the corners. Powerful ones. Good. No one was taking chances here.

  Allira leaned in toward me. “All candidates testing for advancement go through this monthly cycle,” she explained in a low voice. “They don’t split it by rank, so you’ll get a mix of adepts, novices, full mages, and then high mage candidates like Marlena.”

  Seraphina watched Marlena closely, arms folded, her expression unreadable. Supportive, but fiercely focused. Allira continued, nodding toward the judges’ stand. “Each candidate has to cast one defensive spell and two offensive ones. They’ll face off against two high mages in controlled combat, while four other high mages observe from the sidelines.”

  “Then they all get together after and vote?” I asked.

  “Exactly. Usually, results come out the next day,” she said. “They don’t do it on the spot. Gives them time to argue about who showed off the best.”

  She subtly pointed toward the sideline where the judges sat, dressed in white and gold, their mana signatures shimmering like buzzing wires in the air. “That’s Magister Alwyn. She’s a specialist in binding and control. The man next to her is Theros. His specialty is elemental projection. The third one, the older woman, is High Mage Callia. She’s the go-to for warding and shielding spells.”

  Then Allira’s voice trailed off. Her finger hesitated above the fourth name. I followed her gaze.

  Seated at the end, legs crossed, expression utterly unreadable beneath the fine silver trim of his robe, was Arch Mage Vael.

  “Oh,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “Right. He promised me he’d judge Marlena’s test.”

  Seraphina’s brow lifted slightly. “And you didn’t think to mention that earlier?”

  “I wanted her to focus on the magic part, not the ‘one of the kingdom’s most powerful mages is watching your every move’ part.”

  Allira gave me a sideways look, amused. “You’re very thoughtful in your madness.”

  “She deserves a fair shot,” I said. “And he’ll make sure she gets it.”

  Down in the ring, Marlena turned slightly and caught our eyes. She didn’t smile, didn’t wave, but she did nod. Just once. Steady. Determined.

  Seraphina exhaled softly. “Let’s see her make history.”

  The morning moved steadily. The first to step into the ring was a young woman with a pale blue sash and hands that wouldn’t stop trembling. She was advancing from adept to novice, and it showed. Even from our seats, I could see the way she swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward the bleachers full of spectators.

  One of the two High Mages in the ring, an older woman with bright silver hair, stepped close and spoke to her gently, quietly. Whatever was said worked. The girl took a breath, steadied her hands, and began.

  Her spells were elemental, but clean. A simple barrier first, followed by a pulse of water magic that knocked her opponent’s feet from under him, and then a flash of bright light meant to simulate a blinding hex. The High Mages didn’t retaliate hard, letting her demonstrate at her own pace. They were testing confidence, not destruction.

  When she finished and stepped back, red-faced but intact, a group of girls seated near us stood up and clapped loud enough to echo off the cathedral’s high walls. She smiled through her nerves and practically ran back to the sideline.

  The next two went more quickly. One worked with aggressive fire shaping, the other threw rocks the size of melons with practiced ease. Both were competent and well-trained. There was some polite applause from the crowd, but it was clear everyone was waiting for the last of the group.

  Marlena.

  She stepped out from the line and walked with graceful precision to the center of the ring. Every inch of her posture was composed, chin high, shoulders square, robe swaying gently with each measured step. The sun caught the edge of her blue tattoos, making them gleam faintly with her natural mana.

  One of the High Mages raised their voice to the crowd. “This is Marlena Valen. She is here today for her testing in pursuit of the rank of High Mage.”

  The crowd responded, clapping politely at first, then growing louder as more realized the significance. Few reached that level in public testing. Even fewer did it this young.

  We stood to clap. Seraphina let out a sharp whistle that earned her a few glances, but she didn’t care. Allira cupped her hands and shouted, “You’ve got this!” and I just smiled, letting Marlena find my eyes through the sunlight.

  She smiled back at us, small but real. Steady.

  One of the High Mages, a man in deep burgundy, turned to her. “Are you ready, Mage Valen?”

  “I am,” Marlena said clearly, her voice ringing across the stones.

  She bowed deeply to both of her opponents, and then again toward the sidelines where the four other High Mages sat in their quiet half-circle. When she bowed to them, Arch Mage Vael inclined his head in acknowledgment. It wasn’t favoritism. It was respect.

  Seraphina whispered, “She’s going to tear that ring apart.”

  “She’s better,” I whispered back, my heart thudding. “I paid for a celebration.” Allira laughed under her breath, then leaned forward as the circle began to glow. Marlena raised her hand. It was time.

  The glow of the ring intensified as the two High Mages raised their hands. One manipulated the earth, his fingers moving in a practiced rhythm. Three solid spheres of stone burst from the floor and shot toward Marlena. At the same time, the second, a wiry woman wreathed in red and gold, summoned a large fireball that roared into life above her palm.

  They attacked in unison. Classic pincer pressure. Meant to fluster, not wound. Marlena didn’t flinch.

  She stepped forward and swept her hand in an arc, her mana surging as a wall of crystal-clear ice erupted at an angle in front of her. The earth balls hit first, two ricocheting away, one cracking with a loud thunk and skidding into the ring’s edge. A breath later, the fireball slammed into the ice. Steam exploded in a sharp hiss, filling the ring with white mist.

  The crowd gasped, but Marlena was already moving.

  Before the fog cleared, she slammed her staff into the ground. The ground beneath her opponents shimmered and instantly froze, slick and uneven. Both High Mages stumbled. She followed with a second spell, a dozen ice spears flaring into existence above her and launching with pinpoint accuracy.

  The crowd went dead silent as the spears ripped through the mist.

  The High Mages barely had time to react. Both dove to the ground, rolling aside just as the projectiles cut through the space they’d occupied. They landed with grunts, robes singed and pride slightly bruised, but unharmed.

  From the sideline, Arch Mage Vael stood.

  He raised a hand, and the magic in the ring immediately stilled. The cold wind stopped. The lingering mist thinned. Marlena lowered her arms slowly, breathing evenly.

  Vael stepped forward into the center of the ring, his voice carrying with the authority of centuries. “That is quite enough for today.”

  All four of us in the bleachers stood at once. Seraphina’s mouth hung open slightly. Allira grinned like a proud sister.

  I just exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  The Arch Mage turned to the spectators and gave a courteous bow. “Thank you all for witnessing today’s tests. As tradition holds, the results will be announced tomorrow after deliberation. However,” He paused. “Some performances speak for themselves.”

  He turned back to Marlena with the faintest smile playing on his lips.

  “She may step down. And rest. She’s earned it.”

  Marlena bowed deeply one final time before walking back toward the sideline, poised and unshaken, but her eyes sparkled when they met mine. I couldn’t help the grin that pulled across my face.

  Seraphina leaned toward me. “Still planning to wait for tomorrow?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Marlena bowed once more to the judges at the edge of the ring, then turned and made her way toward us. Her pace was steady, but her eyes were darting around, as if waiting for someone to yell that she’d made a mistake. She needn’t have worried.

  The four remaining High Mages moved in toward the ring’s center, where their two colleagues were still gingerly peeling themselves off the iced-over ground. I caught a few muttered words: “efficiency,” “precision,” “too advanced for her rank.”

  Yeah, I thought. They’d be talking about that one for a while.

  We came down from the bleachers quickly, weaving through the dispersing crowd until we reached her. I stepped forward first, my smile wide and honest. “You did well.”

  Marlena looked down, brushing her palms on her robes. “I was shaking the whole time.”

  “You hid it well,” Allira said with a smirk. “That was clean work. Beautiful layering. Fast control. I’m jealous.”

  Seraphina didn’t say a word, just stepped in and wrapped Marlena in a hug, her arms pulling tight around her shoulders. Marlena froze for half a second, then leaned into it, blinking furiously.

  I was about to say something more when a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

  “Well done, indeed.”

  Arch Mage Vael stood just a few feet behind us, flanked by three other High Mages, all in full ceremonial robes. We must’ve been so focused on Marlena that we hadn’t even noticed them approach.

  Marlena stepped back and bowed immediately, and we followed her lead with more restrained nods.

  Vael smiled faintly, his hands folded neatly. “Mage Marlena Valen. That was one of the cleanest performances I’ve seen in years. I was particularly impressed with the sequencing of the way you chained your defensive and offensive spells so fluidly. Not just instinct. It was… magnificent.”

  Marlena flushed instantly, her cheeks bright. “It was the Earl’s idea,” she said quickly, glancing at me. “We discussed the structure of the test and thought it might be possible to disrupt rhythm with an opening feint followed by terrain denial. It wasn’t my instinct; it was a strategy. David helped me build the framework for it.”

  I raised both hands, palms up. “I just threw out ideas. The execution was all hers.”

  One of the other High Mages tilted her head slightly. “Not many mages in training think in terms of tactical flow. Let alone incorporate spatial control like that.”

  Marlena gave a small, nervous laugh. “I’ve had good influences.”

  Vael looked between us all, then rested his eyes on me. “That seems to be a pattern with you, Earl Robertson. Good influences. Curious minds. And interesting results.”

  There was a pause, then he extended a hand to Marlena. “We’ll see you at the announcement ceremony tomorrow. But off the record, that was already enough.”

  Marlena took his hand and bowed again, her fingers trembling slightly as she released it. “Thank you, Mage Valen.”

  I glanced at Marlena. “Still embarrassed?”

  She looked up at me, a smile breaking across her face. “A little.”

  Seraphina slipped her arm through hers. “Let’s go celebrate before you pass out from blushing.”

  Allira nudged her. “And before David tries to turn your ice spears into a blueprint.”

  I laughed. “Too late. Already sketched it.”

  Marlena groaned, but it was the happiest sound I’d heard all day.

  Arch Mage Vael chuckled, the kind of deep, satisfied laugh that came from someone who’d seen too many things go wrong and was delighted to watch something go right. He clapped me on the back hard enough to rattle my ribs.

  “Well done, Earl. You’re shaping more than steel, it seems.”

  Before turning to leave, he leaned in just slightly and slipped a folded note into my palm with practiced subtlety. I kept my hand at my side, casual, as he straightened and gave the group a polite nod. “Results will be posted in two days,” he said aloud, before strolling off toward the main atrium, robes fluttering in his wake.

  We barely had time to exhale before Halden Sinthurk emerged from the side, flanked by two younger mages trying too hard to look important.

  He walked straight up to Marlena with a practiced smile and folded arms. “So,” he said, voice syrupy, “we’ll know in two days if the marriage proceeds. Or if it’s all just been a distraction.”

  Marlena gave him a short bow, composed and civil. “Yes, we will.”

  But before his arrogance could bleed any deeper into her moment, I stepped in. “Marlena,” I said warmly, loud enough for Halden to hear, “isn’t it time to escort me to see your parents?”

  Halden’s smile faltered. “And what, exactly, is my bride-to-be going to do for your Earldom?”

  I gave him a bland look. “Her family has expertise I can use. Business ventures that align with what Brakenreach needs. Trade. Resources. Management. Seraphina and I have already started discussing ideas with her.”

  Seraphina, standing beside Marlena, nodded calmly. “Marlena brought forward proposals for stabilizing the village’s supply chain. Things her family is uniquely positioned to help with.”

  Halden’s eyes narrowed slightly. “My family has more to offer. More connections. More funding.”

  I didn’t let the smile fade. “Then I’ll come to you second. If my partnership with Marlena’s family fails.”

  He blinked once. Just once. Then, with no further comment, he turned on his heel and stalked off with his shadowing mages in tow.

  Marlena released a breath she’d clearly been holding. Seraphina looped her arm through hers again, gently.

  I unfolded the note in my hand.

  “Congratulations to Mage Valen, she passed. —Vael.”

  I tucked the note away, then turned to Marlena with a smile. “Let’s go see your parents. Hopefully, they’re easier to impress.”