Chapter 45: Perks of a mage
The rest of the journey passes without disturbance, but William’s mind remains a scattered storm, endlessly turning over the words of his senior.
‘I knew magic would be dangerous,' William thinks, staring out at the open road. 'But everyone who ever talked to me about it kept emphasizing it... First Trojjan, and now him. It seems the world of magic holds far more peril than power. I just hope I'll be ready when the time comes.’
After gathering his thoughts, William glances back outside. Nell moves with an energetic, tireless gait, pulling the carriage smoothly. Glancing toward the driver's bench, William spots Mark leaning back against his seat, eyes closed as he lazily enjoys the passing breeze.
Hesitating for a moment, William reaches into his pack, pulls out a small pouch of dried meat, and holds a piece out toward the front window. “Do you want some jerky?”
Mark opens one eye, glancing back at William out of the corner of his vision. “Kid, I’m a third-tier mage. I don't need food for sustenance anymore.”
“You don't eat anything?!” William exclaims, his eyes widening in shock. “What about water? Do you even drink?”
Mark lets out a weary sigh, shifting his weight as his dream of a lazy, peaceful ride completely vanishes. Turning to face William, he shakes his head.
“I mean I still eat, because skipping food and water for too long is bad for your health at my level. But at higher tiers? I’ve never heard of anyone needing to eat or drink just to stay alive. Mages who still eat usually do it out of habit, for the taste, or both.”
“So, how often do you eat?” William asks, a newfound look of fascination lighting up his face.
“Once every three days or so,” Mark answers. “I could probably stretch it to two or three weeks without food depending on how much magic I’m casting, though that number varies from person to person.”
“What else comes with being a mage?” William asks, leaning forward with curiosity.
“Plenty, actually,” Mark says. “I don't fall sick, and common poisons don't affect me unless they’re magical in nature. Plus, I'll age much slower and live significantly longer than any ordinary human.”
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Hearing this, a sudden thought pops into William’s head. “Well... how old are you?”
“I turn eighteen this year,” Mark replies casually.A hesitant, conflicted look settles over William's face.
Noticing the expression, Mark raises an eyebrow. “Out with it, kid.”
“Well... you look older.”
Mark lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head with a defeated expression. “I honestly don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”
William falls silent for a while, letting the information sink in before asking, “So what happens when you reach the next tier?”
“Don’t know, kid. And I don't even know if I’ll ever reach Tier Four myself,” Mark replies, turning his gaze back toward the open road.
“Why?” William asks, genuinely confused.
“Because more than two-thirds of mages who reach Tier Three never manage to break past it,” Mark says. “It’s a wall that separates the sky from the earth. A single mage above Tier Three is worth more than a dozen at Tier Three combined.”
“Why is it so hard?” William asks.
Mark lets out a weary sigh. “You know, kid, you sure have a lot of questions. And just so you know, teaching magic outside of the academy without the Crown's permission is a serious crime. So keep your mouth shut and let me concentrate on the road.”
William freezes, a sudden spike of panic hitting him.
‘Am I going to get in trouble just for knowing what he told me?’
He glances forward at Mark, who is sitting as lazily as ever with his eyes closed.
Maybe not... William thinks,settling back into his seat. 'Maybe this is all just common knowledge anyway’.
After resting inside the carriage for some time, William is startled by a soft knock on the front window.
He slides it open to find Mark looking back at him over his shoulder. “Kid, we’re about to reach Riverstead. Step out of the carriage.”
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, William climbs down onto the dirt road. Glancing around the quiet roadside, he asks, “Why aren't we stopping inside the town?”
“Because it would be pretty difficult to hide the glow in a town full of people,” Mark replies. Before William can ask what he means, Mark waves his hand. A sudden flash of light erupts as the plain white ox shifts back into its three-eyed form for a split second before vanishing into thin air, leaving behind an unhitched carriage.
Mark turns and begins walking toward the town gates.
“What about the carriage?” William asks, jogging a few paces to keep up.
“I’ll deal with it after meeting your family,” Mark replies over his shoulder. “And if you're worried about someone stealing it, don't be. The residual illusion left behind by Nell will make it practically unnoticeable to normal people for a while.”
William hurries to catch up to Mark’s longer stride. “Then why can I still see it?”
“Because you already know it’s sitting right there,” Mark explains. “Your brain knows what to look for. But for an unsuspecting traveler, though? Their eyes will slip right past it without registering a thing.”
William nods in understanding as they keep walking. After a short hike, they reach the modest town gates of Riverstead. The surrounding stone walls are noticeably shorter than Arindale’s, aged and showing signs of poor maintenance.
Passing through the archway into town, William clenches his sweaty fists, a pit forming in his stomach.
‘I don't know how they're going to react, but I hope it won't be too bad... Auntie is definitely going to be devastated. I just hope Uncle can help smooth things over.’