Not having much important business to attend to, I stopped at a few stores on my way back to the docks. I continued to marvel at the versatility of the adventurer’s bag. Why, imagine if just one man on every crew had something like this! Imagine a crew where everyone had such a bag! But no, even among adventurer circles, they had one person among the team designated as the bag-carrier. The magic was impressive, but cost prohibitive, apparently.

I added a number of miscellaneous and sundry items to the bag, mostly things I hadn’t had to acquire for myself by being part of a crew.

The rest of my time I spent relaxing at the bottom of the harbor, refilling my land-timer. I looked over my attribute points and decided the best excuse for how I allocated them was the truth – that could be accredited to my perk, after all. Nothing fishy indicating a cursed sailor there, huh?

I also considered what I’d do if the wizard spotted my cursed status. He gave no indication that he’d seen through my stats earlier, but he might not have tried. I needed contingencies in case I was outed.

I seriously considered not returning. I’d planned to train myself with whatever books I could. I hadn’t planned on a tutor. What were the odds someone like this guy had a high analyze skill?

I decided to chance it. Risky or not, I didn’t have any good options for learning magic, and magic was supposed to be my ace-in-the-hole when it came to a fight, right?

Still, I took a different route to the wizards’ house and checked for any signs of an ambush. The only thing that ambushed me was the crowd of children leaving the wizards house as I arrived.

I looked over the motley group of kids, my brow arced in amusement. They ranged across several social classes, and their age varied from those who looked little older than toddlers to that kind of proto adult that developed when kids spent all their time imitating their elders instead of developing their own talents and facing their own challenges. A few of these barely-teenagers noticed me and pointed. They whispered amongst themselves; then – I assume – tried to conjure some sort of magic on me. I gathered it failed, because the attention went from me to one of their own group, and they jeered him as they walked down the street. They were the proverbial kings of these calm, residential avenues. They’d take to scampering and talking quiet as soon as they crossed a street where they’d once seen a footpad.

I turned to find Renshaw standing in his door, watching the departing youngsters with a smile so fake it seemed plastered on. I suppose the mirth on my face as his obvious discomfort was obvious, because he shook his head ruefully.

“The brats are all kids of people who want them to be great and powerful wizards who make their parents lots of money. I feel like a cup of tea, how about you?”

“Sounds nice, thanks.” I made an effort not to ask any questions as I followed him into his home and looked about the room the kids had so recently vacated. It bore the signs of their recent departure, parts of it neatly organized and other parts not so much. I felt I understood his spartan interior much better now.

He seemed to expect me to ask questions and answered them despite my restraint. “I put on a class of sorts for kids, charge their parents a reduced rate for group time. It’s my most profitable venture, but the least productive and most trying.”

“Can kids learn magic in a group setting?”

“Oh yes, the trouble is it depends so much on their own discipline. In most cases, the thought of discipline is a joke. And do I really blame them? Even magic is boring when it’s all study and you’re dreaming of adventure!” I followed him into a small kitchen where he pulled down two glasses and a tall jar of tea steeping in the windowsill.

“Of course, few of them have even shown magical proclivities, and I could tally the number of spells learned between all of them on one hand!” He waggled three fingers as a more accurate figure. Then his other hand spun, and he procured an ice dagger which he promptly deposited in the tea jar. He met my eyes to see if I’d been paying attention.

“Anyway,” he continued, gesturing for me to grab the glasses and follow him into his backyard. “Most all of what they can do is manipulate mana for small effects, which is what we will be starting with.”

His tone of voice seemed disappointed to be moving on to business, so I indulged my curiosity of his business by asking, “why do parents send their kids to a group setting if there’s so little promise?”

“Ah, but there’s great promise!” Renshaw said, animated again. Was it possible the old wizard was lonely for company? “The earlier a child is indoctrinated in magic and the more time they spend in it, the more likely they are to discover and unlock their affinities. You said earlier you had unlocked your air and water affinities, but that was after – what? Twenty years of being a sailor?”

I waved my hand to let him know he was close enough as we sat at a small table. That also told me that Renshaw hadn’t seen my age from my stats, so he hadn’t analyzed me yet …

“Nearly everyone has something that they could identify with to utilize magic, but they never unlock it. Kids who spend more time learning about magic early on have an advantage!”

“And if people can get their kids to see a great wizard for a reduced group rate where progress is expected to be slow …”

Renshaw smiled as he sipped his tea. “Gotta pay the bills.”

I liked this guy! “So tell me about the mana manipulation the kids were doing.”

“First, let me see your stats.”

“Let me see yours.”

He seemed surprised that I’d demand that of him, but gave a half laugh and acquiesced. “I suppose that’s fair, showing that I am capable of teaching.”

Name

Marcus Renshaw

Age

Race

Human

Profession

Mage

Level

XP

,650

Health

Mana

Stamina

Strength

Agility

Dexterity

Constitution

Endurance

Intelligence

Wisdom

Charisma

Luck

Magic

Mental (deeper magic)

Spiritual (deeper magic)

Air magic

Earth magic

Water magic

…