“Are you kidding me?!”

  Kel stared in outrage at the list of requirements for the rank-up exam. It seemed he had slightly overestimated his abilities. He knew he would easily pass the tests that measured strength, agility, and intellect. But the questions for the written exam filled him with pure horror.

  “What resolution was adopted at the 14th Intercontinental Assembly of Adventurers?”

  “The peculiarities of Guild operation within the Kingdom of Arden.”

  “Ten primary requirements for concluding a temporary third-tier contract.”

  Five hundred and ninety questions in total. Kel felt like he might lose his mind just reading through them, let alone memorizing all the answers.

  The real problem was different: would he be able to figure out a way around the anti-magic safeguards during the exam? He didn’t feel like thinking about that right now, so Kel decided to distract himself with a short walk.

  After Vanessa’s father calmed down and properly acknowledged Kel’s role in saving his daughters, he invited Kel and Kiana to stay at the estate for a while. Kel agreed without hesitation. For the past week, he had been basking in an almost unbelievable level of comfort and luxury.

  At last, he didn’t need to hurry anywhere, run for his life, or scramble to solve one crisis after another. He could simply live–and think through everything that had happened to him.

  Unfortunately, enjoying that peaceful life proved harder than he’d hoped. Every night Kel woke to the sensation of an icy touch burning through his face, down to the bone.

  “You don’t have time.”

  The creature had shown itself only once, yet it had lodged firmly in Kel’s mind. Studying for the exam was supposed to take his thoughts elsewhere, but instead it served up another nasty surprise.

  Only a walk through blessed Concordia had any chance of improving his mood.

  The hero Aigon had been here before. Kel was sure his own impressions would be nothing like those memories. The last few adventures had made one thing painfully clear – his character had looked at the world through embarrassingly pink glasses.

  Reaching the capital of the kingdom turned out to be a quest in itself. Concordia was the center of royal power, which meant every newcomer was examined, questioned, and judged from head to toe. Luckily, his adventurer badge came to the rescue.Just another hopeful aiming for a rank promotion – absolutely ordinary, completely harmless, definitely not a former dark archmage wearing someone else’s face.

  But he still had to endure an enormous line outside the city gates. The Midsummer Festival was only days away, and people from all over the kingdom were flooding into the capital for the celebrations.

  At least the wait had its benefits. Now Kel’s badge carried the mark of the city guard, which meant he could pass any patrol check without trouble.

  Even though the festival had yet to begin, the whole city was already dressed for it – flowers hung from balconies, bright garlands stretched across the streets, and ribbons fluttered in the warm wind. More than once Kel noticed small groups of mages in royal service. They were easy to recognize by their pale blue robes.

  From overheard conversations he gathered that they were responsible for the magical security of the festival. The king feared that the escaped allies of the archmage might seek revenge.

  “Guess the parasites have nothing better to do,” Kel thought with a grin. As far as he remembered, for all ten years – until the archmage had returned in full strength – not a single one of his so-called allies had shown their face. Not a whisper, not a trace. But the moment the power was back, they came crawling. And the archmage hadn’t forgiven most of them.

  A carriage thundered past at full speed. Kel jumped aside, barely stopping himself from tossing a curse after its owner.

  “Not too used to the big city, huh, buddy?”

  The voice behind him sounded vaguely familiar. Kel turned.

  He was met with the wide, shameless grin of the unlucky dice player. Erhard, right.

  “I knew fate would bring us together again, my nameless savior. Let me thank you with a mug of ale – and finally learn your name.”

  Without waiting for objections, Eckhard grabbed Kel by the elbow and dragged him toward a tavern near the central square.

  “An adventurer, huh? Never would’ve guessed. For some reason I took you for one of the mages.”

  Well, Erhard’s instincts weren’t half bad.

  “Ever thought about changing professions? I’m actually looking for an assistant. With the festival coming up, I’m desperately short on hands.”

  “An assistant for what?” Kel asked, mostly out of politeness.

  “Didn’t I introduce myself? I’m a master, an artist, and–by royal commission–the man in charge of the decorations for the upcoming celebration. First festival since the victory, you know. His Majesty wants every other ruler to choke with envy.” Erhard puffed out his chest. “Lucky for him he happened to meet a genius like me.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Erhard hadn’t lied when he said luck favored him. Born in a poor, nearly abandoned village, the boy had shown a talent for drawing since childhood. And fortune smiled on him the day an artist – traveling to the Temple of the Silver-Hand at the abbot’s invitation – lost his way and stumbled into that very village.

  It was luck again that the artist’s eye was caught by the charcoal sketches covering the walls, and that he decided to take the boy with him.

  The training was hard, but the boy swore to himself he would never return to shoveling manure. His master demanded much from him–yet took immense pride in his progress.

  Soon, they began inviting Erhard himself to work, this time as the chief painter. His truly great work was meant to be the frescoes for the villa of one of the Council heads in the free city of Myrna.The villa was magnificent, the frescoes were stunning, and yet the lady of the house was even more so.Erhard didn’t even notice how he ended up in her bed. Unfortunately, her husband noticed after a while.And luck was on the artist’s side once again. At that very moment, the Alliance army had taken position outside the city walls. That was where Erhard found refuge. The life of a soldier didn’t appeal to him, but when faced with the choice between that and being skinned alive, the answer was obvious.

  In truth, Erhard had hoped he could simply slip away at the next stop. But escaping the firm grip of the commander proved far more difficult than avoiding a cuckolded husband. He had to march all the way to the Archmage’s castle and take part in the assault. And once again, luck favored him–though he genuinely mourned the fallen comrades.

  During that ill-fated game, Erhard had already decided that fortune had abandoned him… until the green-eyed savior arrived.

  The very next day, while he was smoking his pipe and lazily sketching on a hill near the camp, a young man walking nearby noticed him. A conversation started. Erhard was pleasantly surprised that one of the knights–or, judging by his attire, the heir himself –knew so much about art and could distinguish Gane from Gone.

  The knight turned out to be the crown prince, who recommended to his father that Erhard be hired. The Ascended had indeed blessed him with generous luck.

  And he felt a genuine thrill when he saw the mysterious savior again in Concordia.

  "Hey, why did you think I was a mage?" Kelmir finally asked.Reserved and not very talkative, he had mostly just listened to Erhard’s chatter, revealing almost nothing about himself. So this question was already a sign of progress.

  "Eyes," the artist answered without hesitation. "Mages usually have a gaze that feels heavy, like they’re staring straight into your soul. Sorry, but yours is the same."

  "Is that it?"

  Erhard paused to think. After five mugs of ale, explaining anything properly was a bit of a challenge.

  "Just an overall impression. I’m an artist–I think in images, so I can’t really explain it properly." He took another sip. "This time my instinct misled me. But if you like, I can paint your portrait. In

  Erhard spread his arms wide, trying to show exactly where he’d place the title on the painting, and nearly toppled off his chair.Kelmir smiled faintly and shook his head.“Not every other life turns out the way we dreamed.”“I agree. I was born in a village and always pictured myself as an artist, not a farmer. Only in my fantasies, I painted portraits of kings, not dangling out of a third-story window without any underwear. On the other hand, now I’m one step closer to royal portraits. So, think about the robe.”“Seems like I don’t know much about the life of artists. What’s this story about the third floor?”Whether it was the ale or Kelmir simply thawing a bit, there was genuine curiosity in his voice.

  “That’s my personal pride,” Erhard waved toward the stage in the central square. “Well, it will be, once I’m done. Right here, after the triumphal procession, the King of Concordia and the great hero Aygon will perform. Everyone will gasp when they see what I’ve come up with.”“Mm-hm,” Kel agreed. “I really liked the phoenixes.”Erhard eyed him suspiciously. His mind felt foggy.“How do you know that? Or did I already tell you? Damn, sorry… I think I might have had a bit too much.”

  Kel and Erhard wandered through the bustling streets of Concordia, the air thick with the scent of flowers and roasted meats from the festival preparations. Colorful banners hung from every balcony, and the cobblestones echoed with the clatter of merchant carts and the laughter of children.

  Erhard jabbed a finger at a shop window, pointing out a display of intricately carved figurines. “See that? The detail is incredible. A masterful touch, if you ask me.”

  Kel raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting the artist chatter on. It was oddly pleasant to walk without urgency, without the constant weight of life-or-death decisions pressing down.

  They passed a fountain where street performers juggled flaming torches, and Erhard practically bounced in excitement. “We should come back here at night! The light from the torches reflecting off the water–unforgettable!”

  Kel smiled. “You and your dramatics. I’ll take your word for it.”

  As they moved deeper into the city, the two fell into an easy rhythm, weaving through crowds, stopping occasionally to observe a merchant’s wares or admire a sculpted balcony. For once, Kel felt the rare comfort of a normal afternoon–alive, unhurried, and just… walking.

  Kelmir and Erhard walked along the cobblestone streets of Concordia. The city was alive with anticipation for the Midsummer Festival: bright garlands hung from the buildings, shopfronts were decorated with ribbons, and the air was thick with the scent of fresh pastries and spices.

  Erhard strode ahead energetically, gesturing wildly as he described where he planned to place his decorations central square. His eyes shone with excitement and pride.

  Kel walked beside him, observing his surroundings carefully. The city looked different to him than it had to Aigon: instead of heroic ideals, he saw a life full of details, smells, and random little things. He noticed children playing on the streets, street musicians weaving through crowds of merchants, and in his mind, a picture of the real world gradually took shape, where magic coexisted with ordinary life.

  Hours passed. Kel had no desire to return to the baron’s estate. Walking through the city, he finally felt like an ordinary person. Soon enough, that weight would fall on his shoulders again.

  Twilight settled over Concordia, and Kelmir and Erhard returned to the central square.

  “So, you absolutely have to come see it, or I’ll be offended,” the artist insisted, trying to drag him into the festival.

  “And what about the guards? I asked them not to leave the platform – if they turn away, the kids will scatter everything,” Kel said.

  Erhard frowned and pointed toward the stage. Indeed, the day guards were nowhere to be seen.

  Kelmir activated his magical vision. The platform was far from empty.

  Hidden on the platform were mages shrouded by magic.

  “Guards sent by the king?” Kel thought – and immediately dismissed the idea, because he noticed something incredible. The mages were using dark mana.

  Servants of the Archmage.

  Where had they come from, and what were they doing here?

  “Lazy bastards,” Erhard cursed loudly. “You can’t trust them with anything.”

  The figures on the platform turned in their direction.

  Kelmir hoped the dark mages would be smart enough not to give themselves away and not attack random passersby.

  “Seems I overestimated their intelligence,” Kel thought – just as a bright blue flash cut through the air.