The last senior apprentice looked about Locke's age. He glanced at the two senior brothers and two senior sisters, then smiled. "You're all Third-Ring Wizards. In the distant past, that would have put you on the level of Wizard Kings and Wizard Lords."
"I'm different. I'm only a Sun-Ring Wizard."
Senior Brother Georta, Second Senior Brother Heidegger, Witch Fiona, and Witch Zoila all chuckled.
Witch Catherine had gone a long time without taking an apprentice in the old-fashioned master-disciple sense. As a result, this junior brother named Trajan was considerably younger than the four of them.
Most of the time, the four of them talked among themselves. After all, an absolute gulf separated Third-Ring Wizards from Second-Ring Wizards. The two ranks even occupied different places in the Wizarding World.
At every previous gathering, Trajan had sat off to one side while the four of them discussed things together.
Now that Locke Augustine had joined them, Junior Brother Trajan finally had someone to keep him company.
Trajan had a sharp, tough look about him. His hair was cropped short, and a scar crossed his right eye, with a peculiar dark energy flowing through it.
His right eye was flesh and blood, but his left was a Sun-Ring Level Brass Magic Eye. It looked terrifying and gave off an intimidating aura.
Yet when he looked at Locke, his gaze held warmth, curiosity, and appraisal. Unlike the four senior apprentices, he did not see Locke entirely as a junior, no different from one of his own direct disciples. Locke's status as Witch Catherine's student made him special, though, and put him on somewhat more equal footing with them.
In truth, the four senior apprentices had never seriously assessed Locke. They simply assumed anyone their teacher accepted must have satisfied her.
But Locke and