Several of Each

"A few pieces of good news, and a few pieces of bad news."

In the hall of the Dawn Tavern, which had yet to open for the evening, Faster, the bard, Soluman Copperbeard, Tasia, Martin, and Evelyn gathered around Annan.

"Start with the good news," said Faster, leaning by the window in the evening sunlight.

Annan let out a heavy breath. "Mr. Victor has an apprentice now."

"Good... good..." the bard murmured excitedly. He even reached for his Lute, but Faster told him to be quiet and let Annan continue. "And the bad news?"

"Mr. Victor's apprentice isn't me. It's Little Winchester."

The bard's smile froze. Soluman Copperbeard thumped her chest, Evelyn felt sorry for Annan, and Tasia fell silent. Only Martin kept looking around, asking who Little Winchester was.

"Give us the second piece of good news."

"Mr. Victor gave me an aptitude test."

The bard thought for a moment. "All right, so you didn't become Mr. Victor's apprentice. But becoming a mage apprentice is still good, isn't it?"

"You're a mage apprentice now?" Soluman Copperbeard asked, gripping her thick beard.

Annan shook his head. "I didn't pass the test. I'm just an ordinary person."

Everyone's disappointment showed. The sentimental bard and Soluman Copperbeard looked even sadder than Annan had when he saw the magic stone fail to glow.

"Is there any more good news?" Only Faster remained calm.

Suddenly, Martin shouted angrily, "Who the hell is Little Winchester?"

No one answered him. They waited for Annan to continue.

"Mr. Victor said I have the talent to become a sorcerer."

No one cheered. They kept staring at Annan. "And the bad news?"

"There isn't any."

Annan smiled and spread his hands.

But after so many emotional ups and downs, they no longer felt like celebrating.

The bard clicked his tongue and ran a fingernail across his strings. "The beer barrels the caravan delivered still need to go down to the cellar." Soluman Copperbeard took Tasia back to the cellar. Evelyn's little face flushed with excitement, but since no one else cheered, she could only quietly clench her fists.

"Aaagh!!!"

Martin clutched his head in anguish.

"Aunt Susan's going to be so upset you didn't become a mage apprentice..."

"How much do you know about sorcerers?"

Under the oil lamp, the deep lines in Mr. Victor's face made him look like an evil witch.

"Sorcerers draw on the power of their bloodlines and awakenings. Unlike mages, they don't need years of complicated study to cast spells. They can even release spells directly, though they aren't as versatile as mages..."

Mr. Victor said nothing, so Annan continued. "They're natural spellcasters. Um... their bloodlines and awakened powers also give them an unusual appeal... even to other races..."

Annan suddenly felt he had been born to be a sorcerer.

"That's essentially correct."

Though Mr. Victor practically had what a narrow view written across his face.

He had every right to think so. Mr. Victor might only be a mage apprentice, but his knowledge far surpassed Annan's, whose only reading on the subject was Mages to the Left, Warlocks to the Right.

A simple comparison said it all: Annan had stumbled through Mages to the Left, Warlocks to the Right in a week, while Mr. Victor was over sixty. If he had read one book like it every month since he turned twenty, he would have read more than five hundred by now—

"And what about mages?" Victor asked.

"Spellcasters with an affinity for magic who can learn to cast spells," Annan answered smoothly. "Through extensive study and an understanding of magic, they construct spell models and then release the spells."

Mages were far more common than sorcerers. Out of every hundred thousand people, perhaps a thousand could become warriors, ten would become mages, and only a tenth of one would become a sorcerer.

It had nothing to do with strength. Sorcerers were simply rare.

And nine out of ten sorcerers were Bloodline Sorcerers.

Kobolds, for instance, descended from dragons. Having inherited their ancestors' bloodline, they had an especially high chance of awakening as Dragonline Sorcerers.

Then the old man kicked Annan out of the basement.

Annan didn't think he had answered anything wrong, so he put it down to Victor's stubborn temper. He didn't ask what to do next, either. Most likely, when he arrived at the library tomorrow morning, he would find notes on sorcery that the old man had spent all night copying out for him.

The old man always managed to do something for his benefit in a way that made gratitude impossible.

That evening, Faster watched Annan work in the tavern with mixed feelings.

A mage apprentice could, in a narrow sense, be considered a mage's assistant, servant, or subordinate. Working a second job was no surprise; many renowned archmages had once worked to earn money, because they genuinely needed it.

But making a sorcerer apprentice... Sorcerers didn't have apprentices. Becoming a sorcerer meant being able to cast spells.

If the Sorcerer Protection Association found out he had a sorcerer working as a server, even an elite warrior like him might be stuffed into the Bottomless Abyss or thrown into the Void Starfield.

But Annan insisted on doing it. Sorcerers needed money too, especially when he still couldn't cast spells.

Right now, Annan was like a poor young man who had boarded a ship for the big city to seek his fortune, only to be shipwrecked and washed onto an island, where he discovered treasure buried beneath the beach.

The lucky fellow had skipped the hard work. Now he only had to get the treasure off the island.

"Mr. Fast, I have a question."

"I can't answer questions about sorcerers."

"It's not about sorcerers." Annan asked curiously, "Were you once part of an organization?"

Faster's body tensed where he had been lounging against a wooden pillar. "Did Mr. Victor tell you?"

"No. A rich man's son named Horn."

Annan casually explained that Tasia had met a wealthy child at the library, and when Annan mentioned Faster, the boy seemed to recognize the name and muttered something about him.

"I'll have a talk with his father," Faster said.

Did boys in this other world have nightmares about belts, too?

With no more questions, Annan went back to work in the tavern.

"Faster, go look in a mirror," the bard told him. "Your face is practically shouting, 'Should I tell that kid the truth?'"

Faster stopped wavering. "Dust belongs in the trash."

After the tavern closed, Annan and Martin went home. In a mood completely unlike the gloom of the night before, Annan drifted peacefully off to sleep.

Early the next morning, Annan told Aunt Susan and Uncle Holin the good news: he was going to become a sorcerer. If all went as expected, the whole town would know by evening.

After breakfast, Annan headed out and listened to people on the street discussing the latest news in town:

Apparently, an elf had appeared in town.