The next day, Gideon woke to a mirror floating above his bed. Kelvan was staring down at him, smoking from a pipe—how did he even get that in there?

“Ah, Nephew, you’re awake. Good morning.”

Gideon let out a yelp, not quite a full scream, now that he was getting used to these types of disturbances. “What the hell are you doing in here?” he groaned. “Were you watching me sleep, Uncle Kelvan? Because that’s weird, okay?”

“You make it sound creepy. I was monitoring your sleep for signs of rapid eye movement. Did you dream well?”

Gideon shook his head. “I was dreaming of Prospera again.” He didn’t say that he’d been dreaming of his parents. He reached up and poked the surface of Kelvan’s mirror. “You’re too close. Maybe next time, knock on the door first.”

Kelvan drifted backward. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said, frowning. “You’ve just made more work for Grimsby. He will have to clean that smudge unless he manages to con you into doing it yourself.”

“How lovely,” Gideon said, sitting up in bed and rubbing his tired eyes. The sun was just now rising. He would have liked to sleep longer if it hadn’t been for Uncle Kelvan. “Why do my dreams matter, anyway?”

“It’s during your dreams that you recover the most mana, Gideon,” Kelvan said. “Especially since you haven’t been meditating, I wanted to make sure you were replenishing your reserves. Today will demand much from you, considering it's your first official training day.”

“You’re right. I should have been meditating,” Gideon said. “With everything going on, I haven’t made the time. I still need to find that skill book, Uncle. The library is a mess, but I did find—”

“Oh, right, here you go,” Kelvan said, and a book flew from the nearby table and landed with a thud on the bed. “Turns out it wasn’t in the library. I had used it to prop up a lop-sided table in my study.” He moved the pipe away from his mouth, and it vanished. Then he began to chuckle.

Gideon sighed, but his annoyance was soon replaced by excitement as he reached out and took the book. The cover read Beyond the Veiled Horizon: Expanding the Senses Through [Appraise], and he began to flip through it, his eyes scanning over the pages. As he traced the runes with his fingers, he could already feel the potential within them.

A proper skill book contained more than the written word. Its pages were imbued with mana, and the book allowed one to absorb experiences—examples of using the skill, and practice exercises. Over time, such books ran out of mana and grew inert from use. But in this case, Gideon could feel the energy positively crackling between the pages.

“Ah, yes, don’t have too much fun with that yet,” Kelvan said. “I told Grimsby to cook you breakfast. Once you’re done, meet me down in my lab.” There was something in his glowing eyes that was slightly frightening, if Gideon was honest. “Before that, though, meditate for fifteen minutes.” His eyes narrowed, and Gideon felt as if Kelvan was inspecting him. “You could use a little more mana.”

After Kelvan floated out the door, Gideon kicked off the sheets and rose into a sitting position. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breath and tried to still his mind. With each inhale and exhale, he circulated mana through his body.

He couldn’t help but feel a little distracted, however.

What exactly was Kelvan going to teach him? And how dangerous would it be?

In addition to breakfast, Grimsby had made him a bagged lunch containing a double-decker ham and cheese sandwich, which he passed to Gideon as he said, “You’re welcome, bub.”

“Thanks, Grimsby,” Gideon said. “Your cooking is great, by the way. The elves and I all cleaned our plates last night.”

Grimsby’s jaw rattled, and Gideon thought he detected some satisfaction there. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

Sir Clonk marched into the kitchen just as Gideon was finishing his meal. In a sad-sounding voice, he said, “Grimsby, Lord Kelvan has informed me I am to help you repair the roof this morning.” The armor swiveled to face Gideon. “And help you train this afternoon.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. “Help me train? I wonder how.”

Clonk shrugged. “I don’t generally ask questions. I prefer to be surprised.”

“That makes one of us,” Gideon said dryly.

As Gideon took his dishes to the sink and washed them, his mind was filled with visions of strange training scenarios, such as Kelvan throwing Gideon into one of the spider holes in the side of the mountain. Or Kelvan making Gideon balance on a wooden pole as he threw buckets of water at him, which Gideon was forced to deflect using geomancy.

He’d heard they did that kind of thing at certain wizarding schools. Gideon wondered what type of training they performed at Falconridge. What kinds of lessons had they taught Yvette?

Once Gideon was finished, he found Kelvan in his lab as promised. But one thing about the room had changed—the large golden vault door was now open. The runes around its edge were deactivated and no longer glowed with magical energy.

“Ah, took you long enough,” Kelvan said, then floated into the vault. “Follow me.”

As Gideon passed through the door, he entered a stone tunnel with rough-hewn walls. There was a strange energy in the air. The hair on the back of his hands and arms stood up. From deeper in, he heard a faint humming sound.

Kelvan floated along in front of him, unperturbed by the surroundings, so Gideon followed him. Soon the tunnel widened, and they emerged into a large cavern. Gideon thought this cave must have been natural, as stalactites of white stone hung from the ceiling. Around the edge of the cavern were several display cases stuffed with magical artifacts. But those weren’t even the most impressive thing in the room.

At the center of the cavern, a glowing white crystal pillar stretched from floor to ceiling. It looked like it continued deeper into the earth. Inside the crystal, a fractal pattern constantly shifted and rotated.

Gideon grew dizzy just looking at it.

Kelvan turned around and chuckled. “Not bad, is it?”

“Is that the moonstone?” Gideon asked.

Kelvan scowled for a moment. “Ah. The moonstone itself is deeper beneath the mountain, Gideon. Technically, this is just the keystone. But it’s all connected, yes.”

“I don’t understand,” Gideon said. “What is all this? Is this why the castle was built here?”

“You have a bad habit of asking questions not covered by my lesson plan,” Kelvan said, stroking his beard. “I admire your youthful curiosity but think of it this way. I’m teaching you a course on arithmetic, but you insist on asking me questions about geology. First things first. We need to get you a spell focus, Gideon.”

Kelvan’s mirror floated over to one of the display cases. The glass doors unlocked with a click and swung open as he approached it. Inside the case was a collection of staves. They were mostly made from wood, though the type and color of the wood differed. Each one was tipped by a crystal in different colors and shapes.

“I do have a wand back in Prospera.” He felt his cheeks grow hot. “I didn’t bring it with me. Didn’t think I’d need it, and I was worried it might get broken.”

“You don’t need a wand,” Kelvan said, chuckling. “You need a proper focus, Gideon. By which I mean a staff, of course.”

“A wand is a proper focus, Uncle,” Gideon said, feeling defensive. “I know a staff is better at range, but a wand can give you precision and—”

“Wands are for poor people, Gideon.” Kelvan shook his head sadly as if it pained him to say this sad truth. “I know you were impoverished, beaten down, and defeated by the powers that be, living in that dystopian nightmare city you called home…” He paused and looked around as if he’d forgotten what he was trying to say. “Anyway, my apprentice is not going to use a wand. It would reflect poorly on me as your teacher. Take one of these. As you may have noticed, I have no hands, so I cannot use them.”

Gideon approached the case and began looking over the different staves. There were almost twenty of them in every possible variation. Though his ego did sting a little at Kelvan’s characterization of wand users, the artifacts in front of him were, by and large, quite impressive. He felt spoiled for choice.

Focusing on one staff in particular, he realized it was the obvious pick. The focusing crystal was green, so it was designed for earth-imbued mana. The shaft was made from a dark brown wood, perhaps black walnut.

“Ah, good choice,” Kelvan said, and the staff flew out of the case, hovering in front of Gideon as if waiting for him to take it.

“I didn’t choose yet,” Gideon said, not wanting to sound rude but still worried that he would make the wrong decision if he did not look at every staff in detail.

“This one is a natural choice for you,” Kelvan said. “It will increase the power and efficiency of any earth-based spells you cast. This will help you use less mana. Take a look.”

Kelvan projected a status window in front of him.

Staff of Rare Earth

Grants +1 to Brilliance and +1 to Willpower when held by an attuned wielder.

Grants an additional +2 to Brilliance and +2 to Willpower when channeling earth-imbued mana.

Grants 10% increased mana efficiency for earth magic spells.