"The Stassi are hard masters to serve," Dimitri said quietly, almost to himself.

"Indeed they are," I agreed. "Please continue without me, I must study my spells now."

I left the group as Amenaruu entered the circle to spar with Charles and the rest of the warriors called out advice and encouragement. My pack was nearby, as it always is, and I left the warm spring sunlight and ventured into the natural cool shade of the trees. The sun was bright in the valley and it was all very pleasant and serene, but we all knew we would be attacked again eventually. I stripped off my sweaty tunic and hung it over a bush to dry in the sun. A large willow with twisted roots exposed by the erosion of the stream provided a comfortable place to sit and a loop of root provided a convenient place to place my books as meditated on the sixth level mandala and the stream provided an almost musical backdrop. Each level of magic adds another layer to the mandala of arcane symbols, making it more and more complex and how the arcane symbols are arranged in the mandala determines the spell and the effects that a mage wishes to cast. Each level of the mandala changes with each spell, like a Dwarven-made multi-level combination lock, in order to create the desired effects, although there are "families" or "schools" of spells that have similar patterns. There are nine levels of magic, I have mastered five of them, and now I wanted to master the sixth. I got comfortable among the roots of a willow tree and I began to control my breathing, allowing my mind to try and seize upon the mandala.

After an hour, my head was throbbing from trying to cram the Arcane symbols into my brain. I felt like I was making progress and that I would soon have the sixth level mastered, but until I did, the pain would be constant. I stood up and stretched and heard some of my joints pop in protest. The shadows of the western range of hills had nearly reached to where I was standing and the sky was just beginning to darken in the east. Night would soon come and I needed to be back at the wagons. Still shirtless, I went to the stream and knelt down by the water's edge and splashed the cold water on arms and chest and I washed my face, rubbing my skin vigorously with my open hands. A startled gasp came from behind me. I turned and saw Helena staring at me with eyes wide, shocked at the heavy white scars left by a Stassi whip that crisscrossed my back. I went to where my tunic was and put it on. In her hand she held an empty pail.

"Do you need something?" I asked in a neutral tone.

"I...I came for water for Godfrey, but I did want to talk to you about magic," she said trying to sound natural.

"What is it you want to know?" I asked her.

"You said earlier that I was not your apprentice," she began and I nodded, "but if I am not your apprentice, then what am I?'

"You are a maid with some magical talent," I explained. "You are a part of this expedition, and

I think you are wondering why I started training you in the higher forms of magic if you were not my apprentice. The answer is simple, the more magic you are capable of, the more useful you are and the more useful you are the more likely we are to succeed. I know this cold sort of logic probably does not sit well with you, but obviously this will not be an easy expedition, and there is great truth in the old saying among us adventurers that sentimentality is a luxury too heavy to carry."

"I understand," she replied looking at the ground. "I do not think I really understood what adventuring was as we, I mean Charles and I, had only heard the songs the bards sing about great battles and golden treasures."

"Bards are liars," I replied with an oft repeated truth.

"It seems so, but I would ask you how did you find your master?" She asked me, not quite looking at me.

"My father was a blacksmith when he was not drunk," I replied with a shrug, "but his sister was a witch. She would sell potions to the locals. I saw the symbols she used written on the walls of her hut and I learned them easily as a child. One midsummer festival, I had seen twelve winters by then, we were at our local baron's castle for the celebration. He employed a wizard named Marden and he was putting on a display of Dancing Lights for the people who had gathered. He left his spell book open to the spell, and while he was performing, I went to have a look at the symbols. The lights he created meant nothing to me, but the symbols in his book mesmerized me. I stared at them until, with a flash of insight, I could understand them. Without thinking, I tried working the spell for myself, and on the second try I succeeded in casting it. I started my own lights dancing in the night sky and was so enthralled by what I had done I did not pay attention to anything else. I was brought back to reality when Marden grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. It was then I noticed the entire crowd, including Baron Chellis, were frowning and staring at me. I thought I was going to get a beating, or worse, and I nearly soiled my pants. But by the end of the week, I was ensconced in the Baron's castle as an apprentice mage."

"You grew up in a castle?" Helena asked me in an awed tone.

"I was, as they say, a pig in a palace, at least at first," I replied with a tight wry smile. "But Baroness Willa herself took it upon herself to civilize the son of drunken blacksmith and make him presentable to the court and that was a task neither of us found pleasant. Of course, Marden taught me my craft and tutored me in reading and mathematics, and my other studies and he found me an eager student. Although he was gruff, he was kindly, and I never gave him a reason to regret taking me on as an apprentice. He was old when I met him and no longer comfortable in the saddle, and so by the time I had reached my sixteenth year, I would accompany the Baron's knights whenever some sort of monster trouble would arise and they wanted magic with them. When I was twenty, I was able to cast the third level spells and had learned all Marden had to teach me and so, as such things go, Marden presented me with my staff and declared me to be full mage. I left soon after and went to Gensmot to be an adventurer."

"Do you think," Helena asked hesitantly, the long shadows of the mountains now covering us as we stood talking, "that I could find a master to teach me magic?"

"You would be old for an apprentice," I replied honestly. "So finding someone to take you on as such would not be easy."

"Could I be your apprentice?" She asked softly, her face in the twilight, her expression a mixture of hopefulness and fear of being rejected.

"If you are old for being an apprentice," I said, more than a little nonplussed at the request and I played for time as I thought this through, "then I am young for being a master, and you obviously do not like me. To be an apprentice mage means you are half student and half servant. Your will is not your own, it belongs to your master. You go where they tell you to go and you do what they tell you to do. You learn what they tell you to learn and you do not question it and I think you are more used to being served than with serving others."

"I have let my emotions get the better of me," Helena said, her tone had a touch of desperation in it now, "and I did not fully understand your position or why you did what you have done. I offer you my apologies for my obtuseness, and I hope you will consider my request."

"Helena…," I started to reply

"I...would be a good apprentice," she said in a hurried voice, interrupting me. "I mean that sincerely and I would do what you asked if you would only give me a chance to prove it."

In truth, I had not the faintest idea of how to answer the girl. So, I did what people always do in times like this, I postponed my decision.

"I will think upon your request," I replied, "and I will give you my answer on the morrow. My answer, whatever it is, will be done for the benefit of the both of us, even if you do not see it that way."

"I will await your answer on the morrow, then," Helena said disappointed that I did not agree to her request.

"We had best return to camp for now," I told her, "it will be fully dark soon and there maybe another attack."

"If we are attacked," Helena said as she stamped her foot in frustration, "I will be useless to help."

"You are only useless if you lack the imagination to be useful," I repeated something Marden once told me.

"I do not see how I can help defend our camp," she replied. "I only know who to mend little things and spark fires, not how to stop an enemy."

"Draw your water from the stream," I replied, "and I will think upon the matter."

Helena filled her bucket and using both hands for she was not a large girl, she carried her bucket. Lest you think me a cad, I allowed her to carry the bucket to see how she reacted to the labor. She did not complain as we made our way back to the wagons where our entire company was now assembled.

"How did you come upon the idea of using a levitate spell to raise up a rock and then use it as both steed and weapon?" She asked me, referring to the attack the previous night.

"A mage can only carry so many spells in their heads," I replied, "so it behooves us to think of other uses for them other than the obvious. Also, when I was young and whenever I got a chance to sneak out of the castle, I would meet with my friends and I would do the same spell with old logs and we would ride them down hills for the fun of it. I would get in trouble if we got caught because we once knocked over a privy by accident and I broke my arm."

She laughed at my story. It was a pleasant laugh, like the sound of chimes in a temple.