I had chores to do before breakfast, including mucking out chickens, putting away laundry, and sweeping the main temple chamber. In the temple, my eyes were drawn to the shelf at the back where Nydarth’s sword had lain in my world. I remembered the sound of her voice calling to me, both on the mountainside and in the dark of the night, and I grinned at the memory of the dream. But by the time I’d finished sweeping, I had convinced myself that it was only that—a dream, not some spell cast by the sword’s sensuous female spirit, not a symptom of a mystical connection that let us bond in the heat of the night. Just a dream brought on by too much time without female company.
Of course, that wouldn’t stop me enjoying the memory. It had been a particularly vivid dream.
By the time I met Tolin on the veranda for breakfast, I was managing to keep my mind in the here and now for whole minutes at a time. I barely even thought about dream-Nydarth’s body as Tolin served us breakfast. Today, it was flatbread and scrambled eggs, with some of the eggs dropped on the floor as a sacrifice to Master Softpaw, the real ruling spirit of our temple.
“You look flushed.” Tolin winked. “Have you been polishing the temple lamp too hard?”
“You’re a sick old man; you know that, right?”
“Ha, no sicker than a young man with too much time on his hands.”
“I’m ready to head off for the guild,” I said before he could berate me further.
“Very good. Are you packed?”
I nodded. “It’s not like I have much to take with me. Clothes, sword, spare pair of sandals—that’s about it.”
“I’ll give you some food for the journey. Can’t have you turning up faint and exhausted because you don’t know how to hunt.”
“Who was it that hunted 25 wisps in a single day? Oh, that’s right. It was me.”
“And good luck living off wisp splinters. I hear they taste like rotten log.”
Master Softpaw made a leap for the table, apparently having decided that his portion of egg wasn’t enough. Even before he’d found his footing, though, I shot out a hand, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and deposited him unceremoniously back on the floor.
“You’re getting faster,” Tolin said. “That’s a good sign. Means the Vigor channels are strengthening. That will serve you well at the guild.”
“The Radiant Dragon Guild is going to be like a school, right?” I said. “Lots of lessons in the philosophy of the path and how to channel. A bit of physical education to keep us in shape. Maybe split us into houses so that we’ll compete with each other for the magicians’ house cup.”
The idea of going back to school was a little frustrating, but I knew it was something I could do. I’d raced through high school at an accelerated pace, leaving for university at the age of 14. I might be the oldest kid in the class this time, but I wouldn’t be there for long.
Tolin rolled his eyes. “Where do you come up with this nonsense? No, it’s not like a school. It’s more like a military training camp, turning you into the toughest, strongest, most powerful Augmenters in the land. Radiant Dragon might not be highly rated by the other guilds, but it will still be a tough experience. You’ll have to work damn hard to get through it.”
He took a bite out of his breakfast and sat glaring at me, chewing with exaggerated effect. Whatever response he wanted, I didn’t give it. I just wrapped some of my own eggs in a flatbread and got on with eating.
“Ethan, are you ready?” a familiar voice asked as Faryn entered the room. She had come to guide me on my journey to her guild.
“Almost,” I said through a mouthful of eggs. I hurried to finish eating, then got up to go.
Tolin held up a hand, and I paused for a moment.
“Do well,” he said. “Make our clan proud.”
Faryn and I left the Unwashed Temple behind and made for the Radiant Dragon Guild House. As we journeyed, we swapped jokes, made up stories together, and talked about our lives. I told her a lot about how things were back on Earth, though she didn’t believe half of it. Sometimes, we would stop to spar by the side of the road, keeping up my practice with both my sword and my Augmenting. Other times, she would pause to teach me about the plants we passed or to take samples of them. They were a subject for which she had an unquenchable fascination.
“I don’t believe you,” I said one day, as we were walking a dirt track between paddy fields. “You don’t look more than 30, 32 tops.”
“Honestly, I’m 117,” she said.
“Women must age a lot better in the Seven Realms, then,” I said. “No one back home would have skin as fine as yours by the time they reached 40.”
She laughed and blushed. “It’s an elven thing. We live longer than humans, and most of that time is spent in our prime. Old age only comes in the last few decades.”
“Still, you look amazing for a woman of any age. And that hair…”
“We should stop and get some sparring in,” she said abruptly. “We might not get another chance before we reach the guild.”
I almost laughed at that. By then, it was a familiar pattern. She was happy enough to flirt for a while, but before things went any further, she would find a way to cut me off and blow off steam. It seemed that Faryn felt safer with swords and spells than with compliments and kisses.
Late on
