Guild Master Fairgreene was quick to finish giving over what information she had, dismissing them with a nod. Not that it mattered much, as Kevza was too preoccupied with fighting the desire to melt into the floor or spontaneously combust to pay much attention. He wasn’t really sure which one felt more appropriate as he awkwardly stood next to the mages. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he exited the office, as though just the proximity to Natavali, in particular, was enough to burn him, which he knew was a ridiculous notion, but one that haunted him all the same. He was here, with three little Magi trailing around him like ducklings, and it was the last thing Kevza had been expecting.

            Would he say anything else to him? Would he bring up what had happened in the past? Did he want to? Did Kevza want him to? Most days, thinking about the Coven just hurt, but with his old classmate and friend so close and yet so far, he found himself aching to reach out. But what else could have really been expected?

            One fact of the matter had been undisputed: he and Natavali of Kath had been practically joined at the hip as children. Inseparable. But with a dark cloud hanging over him, he hadn’t dared reach out to Natavali or any of their other friends after the spectacular, ruinous failures of his last night in the Coven. Not that he was so sure any of them would have wanted to hear from him, all things considered.

            But… maybe he would have?

            Natavali wasn’t known for being elitist, or at least he hadn’t been all those years ago, in spite of his skill and exemplary performance. What did he think about what had happened? Why would he stand there in silence, unless that was a judgment in and of itself?

            “So… you boys know each other?” Pasha asked during the particularly awkward ride back down one of the pully systems.

            “We used to,” Natavali said simply.

            “Natavali and I used to study under Magus Draan together,” Kevza clarified.

            “It’s Magus Natavali! Be respectful! And if you’re a mage then why are you with a bunch of Alchemists?” the boy among the juniors asked.

            “Oh by the stars, Baru! You can’t just ask people why they leave the Coven, it’s rude!” One of the girls said in a fierce whisper, elbowing the boy.

            “What? It was an honest question!”

            The Magi trio devolved into quiet squabbling, the boy and two girls whispering among themselves for the rest of the ride down. And now, the scorching knowledge of Natavali’s presence was joined by the feeling of his squad boring holes into his back with their stares.

            “Kevza never really mentions the Coven, now that I think about- ouch!” Pasha yelped after Danae gently stomped her full weight on the other woman’s toes, her blurted thoughts hammering the nails into his proverbial coffin.

            “Of course,” Natavali said, stepping off as the pully stopped at the bottom level at last. “What matter of childhood consequence would he have to share?”

            Well… Kevza could add that to the list of differences from over the years. It seemed he was right in thinking his presence would have been unwelcomed, even if he’d had the nerve to reach out at any point if this was how he was being greeted now.

            “If we’re to be working together,” Danae interjected. “I would like to make a formal introduction then.”

            “Naturally, pardon my manners,” the man said with a nod. “I am Magus Natavali of Kath, and these are my apprentices; Kata Silverwind, Baru Destrou, and Nenaat Tamvilina.” Each of the Magi stepped forward with a small bow as they were introduced. “The Coven of Darugah has sent us to assist you.”

            “Captain Danae Walkier, pleased to meet the lot of you.” She nodded sharply and gestured around their own group. “This is Pasha Hadir, she handles long-range. Xavi Lant, our medical officer. The twins, Noa and Nidi Betseen, fighters the two of ‘em. And, of course, Captain Kevza of Faren, our primary arcanist.”

            “Of course,” Natavali said lowly, that sharp gaze coming back to slice through him. Clearly, he’d caught the bit where Kevza had changed his regional association, all he had in lieu of a surname.

            “Well, that takes care of that. We’ll meet you at the east gate tomorrow morning then?” Danae asked the Magus, thankfully diverting his intense golden stare away from the flunked mage again.

            “Tomorrow morning.” Natavali nodded. “Come along you three.”

            “Oo, Master, can we go by the night market after dinner?” the boy Magi, Baru, asked brightly, their black robes trailing after the three of them as they flittered around in the wake of the older mage.

            They were lost in the bustle of the street by the time Natavali answered.

            Meanwhile, Kevza and his merry little group of Alchemists made their way to their own lodgings, where he was quick to excuse himself to his own room, brushing off the questions Danae was clearly getting ready to pose. He didn’t have the heart for them, or to join the others for their evening meal.

            He found no rest in the night, sitting up at the window and watching the people of Hawthgrove wander about their nightly business until the walkways emptied, and he was left alone in the low light of the flora, feeling like a great cavity had been scored out of his chest with no tools left to fix it.

***

            “I see your sense of timing has yet to improve,” Natavali said with a frown as Kevza led his group up to the gate. “Any longer and even a loose sense of the word ‘morning’ would deem you to be late.”

            “I will have you know I’ve been ready for hours. We ran into a hitch with some equipment and had to go to the guildhall for repairs,” Kevza groused, tying his hair back with a piece of leather cording. “I figured it would be better to be late and safe as opposed to on time so we can all explode later.”

            “Well, we’ve lost a fair bit of time already. Let’s go,” the Magus said, turning to start down the path into the woods as he fiddled with a leather bracer on one arm, his three students following like good little ducklings.

            There were no horses this time, just them as they walked deeper into the mystical woods where their mystery waited to be solved. And for a time there was mostly silence, just the crunching of leaves and the quiet whispers of when one of Natavali’s students would move next to him and speak, or Noa pointing out small creatures skittering along in the underbrush.

            And it helped to have other mages along, as embarrassing as it was to say. He loved his team and was so proud of their skills, but mages simply had an easier time picking up on strains of magic that didn’t belong. The Ether’s energy was more familiar to them, it was a simple fact. Once the strain was found, it was easy to start following it toward the meditation springs, noting the changes in the flora and fauna as they continued. Larger blooms started to sprout, petals laden with the extra energy in the air. Even Nidi, with his limited ability as an arcanist, leaned in to whisper to Kevza that the atmosphere felt different.

            A pity that the help came at the cost of all normal conversation or rhythm. After a few hours of hiking through the woods, and aside from the few words exchanged to examine findings, the awkward quiet between the two groups was about to strangle him.

            The silence was disturbed with a loud hooting chirp, a large black owl suddenly appearing from the dim area above their heads, weaving down through the large boughs to circle over them.

            “Pip is back!” Kata called with a smile, rushing over as the large bird landed on Natavali’s outstretched arm, its claws hooking into the thick leather of his bracer.

            “Did he see anything?” Baru asked, seeming eager.

            There was no immediate answer as the Magus brought the bird closer and let it brush its iridescent head feathers against the side of his face before it came to rest the bridge of its beak against his temple. The students looked on in awe, the alchemists in confusion.

            “Of course, it’s such a beautiful animal,” Kevza thought. “How very fitting for Natavali.”

            “Uh, why is he hugging a bird?” Noa leaned in to ask quietly.

            “It’s his familiar,” Kevza explained. “This must be one of the ways they speak to each other.”

            “Do you have a familiar somewhere?”

            “No,” Kevza chuckled softly. “It’s something you earn after- well...” His mood dipped again, remembering exactly why he didn’t have one. “Short answer- it’s powerful magic, so only Magus are allowed to have them. Which means no familiars for me.”

            “No matter how much I used to wish for one,” he added silently to himself.

            “So… he’s a stronger mage than you?” Noa questioned.

            “Well… there’s certainly only one Magus here, isn’t there?” Kevza smiled and stepped away, walking along the back edge of the group to pretend to busy himself with investigating a patch of glowing purple flowers.

            “Pip found a grouping of destroyed saplings and merchant carts near the springs,” Natavali pronounced, letting the owl take flight again.

            “Carts I get, but saplings? That’s not much of a big deal.” Nidi huffed.

            “Saplings around Hawthgrove are as thick as mature trees in Faren,” Danae said, flicking him. “If somethin’ has gone around with enough force to wreck them, it’s worth lookin’ into.”

            “And hopefully we can find the merchants to go with the carts.”

            “The tracks were fresh,” Natavali said as the bird lifted off to circle over them once again. “We should hurry if we’re to arrive in time to be of any help.” He turned and looked at the girl Magi with long blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Nenaat, if Kevza remembered correctly. “Do you think you can find a clearer path?”

            “I’ve been practicing,” she nodded, solemn. “I can do it.”

            “You’re advanced enough for a spell of that caliber?” Kevza asked, slightly impressed and his curiosity piqued.

            “Yes,” she said simply, a trace of magic ruffling over her fingers as she began to clear any static energy in the air with a wave of her hand. “Now please be quiet so I can concentrate.”

            Her movements were quick, sharp, and efficient as she traced lines of sigils in the air, leaving them to burn bright blue as she wove her spell. If he had any doubts about who taught her, they were quickly put to rest. She cast almost exactly as Natavali used to, without any hesitation in purpose or leisure in her movement.

            Another stickler for the art of casting then.

            Kevza, for his part, being much more relaxed in his personality, was much looser with his spell work, as evident in the way he cast magic. It had always been easy-going and free-spirited, coming to his call as easily as a smile or a joke. Natavali had berated him for his casualness during their first year together, but other ways of casting simply hadn’t worked as well for him.

            He was the grass that swayed with the breeze. Natavali had been the mountain that forced the wind to move around it. In spite of these differences, they’d never gotten along any less, friendship blooming between the two almost like it was as natural as breathing.

            And as Nenaat cast in her sharp, effective sigils, he found his attention drifting to her teacher. He watched as the pride from Natavali’s gaze followed the trace of magic, and Kevza suddenly felt like he’d been punched in the gut, missing the warmth that those gold eyes used to hold for him. What would things have been like if he’d been permitted to stay? Natavali would have become a Magus, of course, he was far too skilled to be anything less. Maybe he would have let Kevza be his assistant, teaching the little Magi about magic theory.

            The Coven would have never let him become a Magus, not after his Trial of Tribulation, but if they had let him stay at the Keep, he might have found some happiness there still. He’d have his old friends, his old home…

            Suddenly, he locked eyes with one of the old friends in question, and he jerked away to stare at a particularly interesting… leaf. Mm. Yes, what a good-looking little leaf.

            He shook his head, banishing the wistful thoughts crowding his mind. He used to be able to go weeks, months even, without thinking about what-ifs and maybes. And yet, the last few days had seemed to be content to never let up, hurling memories and reminders at him like sucker punches, one after the next with hardly any time to breathe between.

            There was a reason he pushed it all down, almost to the point where he could smile and say he’d made his peace with how things had turned out. The wonderings, the questioning… it wouldn’t change anything. He had failed to meet the expectations of the Coven, in such a great and spectacular fashion that the Grand Magus had insisted that he leave that very night, and not come back. Natavali had grown into a strong Magus. Kevza had not. Seven years of silence lay between them, and one trip through the woods wouldn’t be enough to earn back his old friend’s good graces. So for all that their friendship had once been the foundation of Kevza’s social and school life, perhaps even his very being, the new fact was this:

            Natavali of Kath very clearly wanted nothing to do with him.