Devol stopped in his tracks. Instructions? He swung his satchel in front of him, fished the map out again, and studied it. After a moment, he noticed a small diagram on the left edge which included the symbols he had seen on the rock with the bottom dot circled. “Oh, how did I miss that?”
“You are determined but somewhat narrow-minded. That would be my guess,” Vaust responded calmly and began to roll his right sleeve up. “I can appreciate your willingness to seek the Templars out and learn things for yourself. But you are young, and if this is what you want to do, you need to mature, Devol.”
The young Magi wanted to retaliate against the veiled insult, but he had to admit that he was right. He simply nodded and awaited the mori’s next words.
When his companion had finished rolling his sleeve, he glanced at the rock with the anchor. “As it stands, this is your first challenge to becoming a Templar—setting foot in their realm.”
“So you want me to open the anchor myself?” Devol asked, folded his arms, and sighed. “Well…fair enough. You are right. I would probably have spent days discovering this on my own even when I got here. But I have to ask why you would try to test me at this point?”
“That’s simple. I care about the reputation of the order,” Vaust explained and showed him the underside of his arm. A golden tattoo of a circular shield inlaid with a triangle set with an inverted eye met his curious gaze. “After all, those who join the ranks would be my brothers-in-arms as well.”
Chapter Six
“Uh, sir. We have another customer,” the hostess of the famous Fairwind seafood restaurant, Azure Oasis, notified her superior.
The head Manager frowned. “Then why are you talking to me, Melony? You are the hostess for the day. Go and host.”
“Well, the gentleman isn’t exactly dressed to our standards,” she said smartly, pulled back the curtain that blocked the entrance of the room, and peeked outside again. “And to be frank, sir, something seems a little off about him.”
“Is he causing a ruckus?” he asked, stood from his desk, and strode to his office exit.
“Not exactly, sir,” she admitted. “But if you could deal with him, I would be most grateful.”
He sighed. “Fine. Everyone deserves a favor now and then.” He pushed the curtain aside and stepped through to the main dining area, walking carefully on the dark-blue carpet to the white marbled floors that lead to the entrance. The hostess followed. When he reached the front, he looked around. “Now, where is this…oh.”
It was very easy to see which of the few waiting diners the hostess was concerned about. The man was dressed in dark garb—not entirely unusual as gentleman usually preferred darker colors for their formal dress—but his clothes were far from formal, especially the cloak and hood.
He took a few steps closer to the dark figure. “Can I help you, sir?” he asked, his arms folded and chest out—not exactly a posture that suggested a willingness to be of service.
“I should hope so,” the man replied. When the manager noticed that under his hood, a cloth hid the patron’s mouth and dark glasses obscured his eyes, he began to feel a little on edge. “I was looking to acquire some food. I’ve heard your restaurant has some of the best fish in Fairwind—particularly high praise in a fishing village.”
“Well, you’ve heard right,” he stated and relaxed somewhat. The man didn’t seem to be there to cause problems. “But this is a fine dining establishment, and with that comes a few rules—”
“Oh, no need to worry. I’m not hoping to dine in,” the man explained and slid his hand under his cloak. At that, both the manager and hostess tensed cautiously but the concern eased again when he withdrew a piece of paper and a small red pouch. “If you could prepare these items for me, I’ll be on my way.”
He took the paper and bag and heard a jingle. The hostess stepped alongside him. “We don’t allow food to be taken away. You have to have—”
“Hush, Melony!” her superior ordered and she looked at him in confusion before she realized that he had opened the pouch to reveal a rather sizeable, glittering cobalt. He looked at the would-be patron with a large smile. “Of course, sir. We shall do our best to have it ready as quickly as possible. Would you like coffee or a glass of wine while you wait?”
“A glass of wine would be lovely.” Vaust nodded and sat on one of the benches near the front door. “Take all the time you need. I have some time to kill.”
The mori carried his order on his back in a rather large bag generously provided by the Azure Oasis staff. He left Fairwind and strode up the hill to the field beside the stone formation. When he drew close, he sensed a flare of Mana behind the rocks. A loud shout followed before a crack preceded a body being flung back and skidding on the dirt. He sighed, placed the bag down, and retrieved one of the containers of water before he advanced.
His young companion sprawled ignominiously in the dirt and groaned in pain as he rolled from side to side. Vaust opened the top of the pitcher, splashed a little onto him, and frowned when a slice of cucumber plopped onto his cheek. Devol coughed and shook his head. The older Magi looked inside the container. “Oh, cucumber water,” he commented and took a sip. “Quite refreshing.”
With a grimace, the boy shifted so he could lean back against the rock behind him. Water dripped off his hair. “You got the food already?”
“You’ve been at this for a few hours now,” he pointed out and set the pitcher down. “A couple of questions. First, how does it feel that I can order several courses worth of meals and bring it here before you were
