Oh great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes [audio indecipherable]. Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn. World serves its own needs, don’t mis-serve your own needs…

Recording of a prophecy that foretold the return of magic, circa 75 Pre-Arrival.

-

I let out a long sigh as I thumbed through the public post of temp jobs on my augpad.

Mrs. Sullivan needed help with her gardening? Nah, gardening was boring. Besides, one of the kids in the village who was too young for their UBI would snap up the chance to earn a few extra credits in a few hours anyway.

A toilet needed fixing? I had no clue how plumbing worked, so definitely not.

Someone’s home augpad had viruses? I could probably fix it since I was decent with that sort of thing, but I really didn’t feel like playing the role of tech support right now. I’d give it a little bit of time and pick it up later if nobody else did.

Someone’s hoverboard was broken and needed repairs?

I sat up, letting my augpad fall onto my lap as I looked closer at the job description.

I didn’t have a bond to any air element primals, so the odds were even that I’d even be able to do anything. If it were just replacing a burnt-out component or fixing some wires or spark plugs that had come undone, I could definitely fix it, but if they’d depleted the anima core beyond the point of letting it naturally recharge, they’d need to find an air magian or a tamer with an air primal. Yanette might be able to?

I flicked through the images on my augpad, then let out a sharp laugh. The laugh caused Scales, who had been napping in his dog bed, to look up and let out a tired, toothy yawn. The water element primal resembled a shark with scales made of diamond that caught the light and refracted beautifully. He was about the size of a medium-sized dog and had four short legs underneath him that let him wander about on land just as much as water.

“It’s okay, boy,” I told him, and he closed his eyes and lay down again.

I glanced at the images again. Judging by the picture and short video, they’d actually cracked the anima core.

That was interesting, sure, but not in the sense of fixing it. It was interesting in the sense that I wanted to know how in the world they’d cracked it. They’d need to find someone who specialized in this sort of work to fix it. Probably take it into a shop on their next trip to Tourmaline City, since I doubted even Yanette would have the tech to fix it.

I backed out of the posting, and I was about to close the village’s temp job site when one more posting caught my eye. It was a new one, posted by a username I didn’t recognize. Passing through the area, maybe?

Local Nature Guide or Explorer Guide Wanted. Tamer or Magian Skills Preferred.

Taming jobs were rare around here, and while I did enjoy them when they popped up, most of them were basic stuff—dealing with a Litooth who’d gotten into someone’s garden, Kirows in the crops, or a nest of Squarrels in the attic.

I clicked on the listing for more details.

Howyagoin! I’m setting up a little search for a primal I’ve got a sneaking suspicion might just be in this area. If you’ve got the chops to help me and new’un out, you can find me at Susan’s Café!

I scrolled through the rest of the details. Seventy credits a day. That was decent.

Then I froze. I’d misread the number. It was seven hundred, not seventy.

There had to be a typo. There was no way a guide job would pay out that much. Even if they were looking for a specific primal that was uncommon elsewhere, like Sharmonds, that was way too much.

Heck, seven hundred credits a day was staggering pay even for the big cities. My UBI was barely triple that each month.

I started to read through the fine print, looking for anything that could be amiss. There was mention of potential hazards, which was why they wanted someone with tamer skills, but I’d practically wandered everywhere within fifty miles of the village. I was confident I could do this and do it safely.

I hopped off my bed. Scales let out a soft yip and rose to his feet, stepping out of his bed and wagging his shark tail.

I walked over and scratched under his chin for a moment, then we both headed outside. I was greeted by the familiar smell of salt in the air and the warmth of the seaside that still hung in the air, even in the late autumn.

Mom was changing out the water in the hydroponics system. I suppressed a groan—I wished that she’d told me, instead of lugging the water around on her own.

“Hey, Mom!” I called. “I’m headed out. Got a job I wanna apply for! If I get it, I’ll come back to grab my stuff, then I’ll be gone for a few days.”

She looked up, then put down the jug and walked over.

“What kind of job is it?” she asked, leaning down to gently scratch Scales under his chin.

“Someone from out of town wants a guide to the area. They’re probably looking for a specific primal or something. But it probably pays seventy credits a day, and it should let Scales and me get some training in.”

“Be safe,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “By the way, can you pick up a thing of bread on the way back?”

“Of course,” I agreed, hugging her back. Scales nuzzled both of our thighs, then I let go, scooping him up and putting him in the back compartment of my bike. It wasn’t far to Susan’s. I could have walked, but I wanted to apply to the job as soon as possible.

My bike wasn’t anything fancy, not modded with a lightning speed core, flight core, or anything of the sort, but it was good to stretch my muscles, and it beat walking. Especially since Scales, for all his virtues, wasn’t the fastest being out there. What speed he had was more like a dog’s brief sprint than human persistence jogging.

It didn’t take us long to finish biking through the flatlands, and I tucked the bike into the rack outside of Susan’s Café, checked to make sure that the water bowl was full and comfortable, and pulled a few treats for Scales from my bag.

“Wait here, boy,” I told him as he started chowing down. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I pushed into the bakery, letting the burst of cool air rush over me as I waved to Susan. She was a heavyset, kindly looking older woman with dark skin, curly, gray, close-cropped hair, and the nonglowing, brown eyes of someone who’d never bothered to spend the time and effort to awaken their essence.

“Morning, Aiden,” Susan called. “Usual today?”

I didn’t visit all that often for lunch, but in a small village like this, everyone knew everything.

“Sure,” I said. “And mom asked me to pick up some more bread, so I'll get some of the sourdough as well. But that’s actually not why I'm here.”

I pulled out and flicked my augpad to send payment over the local network as Susan tamped down on the beans and started making a vanilla iced coffee, which she passed over with a loaf of sourdough bread, then started heating up her mini oven to warm my chocolate croissant.

“Well, what are you here for?” Susan asked as she waited.

“I saw a job posted on the village board? It said to come here.”

“Oh!” She said, then grinned even wider. “Oh yes, you’re a good pick! You always were rushing about in the fens and such. I know Elise told me you used to skive off school to hunt in the marshes for that Sharmond of yours.”

“Thanks?” I said, though it was more of a question than a statement.

“He’s in the private room in the back,” Susan told me, continuing to smile. “You have my recommendation, so make sure you tell Vinny that.”

I thanked her, picked up my pastry and coffee, and headed into the back room.

“Hey, I’m here for the job,” I called out as I opened the battered old door to the back room.

“Wonderful,” said Vincent Angon.

I didn’t catch the rest of what he said. My brain was entirely blank.

Vincent Angon was sitting in Susan’s Café.

THE.

VINCENT.

ANGON.

By the elements, what was Vincent Angon doing here?! Could his primals even operate in such a low-ambient-essence area? I mean, they wouldn’t be hurt, or he wouldn’t have brought them here, but…

I realized that in my panic, I’d missed everything he’d said, and Vincenet Angon, the Vincent Angon, was staring at me, an eyebrow raised.

“Did you hear me, kid?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” I said, a flush creeping up my skin.

“I said I wasn’t expecting the person to apply for a tamer job in your village—someone who would need to know the primals around the area, have intimate knowledge of how to move through the area, and help us camp if we needed it—to be a… what, seventeen-year-old boy?”

He didn’t sound angry, but he was definitely a little confused. And a little curious.

My brain was still stuck, though. Why would someone like Vincent Angon need a tamer job? A guide I could understand, but he was enough of a tamer to make up the entire rest of our village put together!

I took a breath and composed my thoughts before I spoke.

“Compared to you or any of the other Regents, current or past, I’m not a good tamer,” I admitted easily. “I mean, I don’t even have a second primal to allow me to register for an official Tamer Rank. I’ve been saving up for a trip out…”

I realized I was rambling out of nerves and pulled back.

“A trip to find a second primal. But all that’s to say I’m a decent amateur, but not a professional. Also… I’m nineteen as of last month. You don’t need to worry about hiring a minor.”

Not that most could tell by looking at me. I had a bit of a baby face.

“Humility and realism,” he said. “I like that. But what’s most important is if you can do the job. Can you actually navigate us through the wetlands? I plan to bring some food, but in the worst-case scenario, could you forage for some?”

“He can,” Susan said as she entered the back room, handing me the chocolate croissant. “He’s been running around in the woods and fens in the area for as long as he’s been alive. Why, three years ago, he spent two weeks on a camping trip to find that Sharmond o’ his.”

“Susan,” I said, a false calm running through my voice. “Do you… know… Vincent Angon?"”

“‘Course I do, hon! He’s my cousin.”

“What?!” I asked, whipping around to stare at her. “Susan, how long have you known me?”

“Since you were about the size of a pebble.”

“And you never mentioned that your cousin was one of the Regents?!”

Susan started laughing and just shrugged, as if it wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as it was. Vincent had put a hand over his mouth to hide the fact that he was laughing, and that made me start blushing again.

I was making a fool of myself in front of one of the nation’s, or even the world’s, top tamers. I took a deep breath to compose myself.

“Sorry. But yes, Mr. Angon—”

“Please, call me Vince.”

“Or Vinny,” Susan said.

“Don’t call me that,” Vincent said. “But please call me Vince, or Vincent, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Yes, Mister Vincent, I do actually think I can help you get wherever you need to go.”

I couldn’t help but add the “mister” in front, even though he’d told me not to. He looked at Susan, then over at me, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Alright. You said you were a tamer with one bonded primal—tell me more about that.”

“Scales, my Sharmond, just broke through to level eleven. I know that’s—”

“Eleven?” Vincent asked. His eyes, which glowed bright red with the color of his essence, seemed to sharpen slightly as he focused on me. “In this tiny village, with a base essence saturation of, what, level four or five?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, then pulled out my augpad and sent him Scales’ status sheet over the local network. I was sure Vincent could have figured everything contained on the sheet, even without giving it to him, but it was about the principle of the thing. He must have had an implanted retinal processor or spell of some sort, because his eyes flicked around for a second before returning to focus on me.

“Alright, kid. You’ve got some moxie. Can’t deny that. Don’t think I’d’ve had the patience to train up a primal to eleven in a place this bloody weak. If Susan’s vouching for your knowledge of the area, that’s fine. But I want to see you and Scales in battle together.”

“I can do that,” I said seriously. “I won’t last a second against your primals, though. Your weakest is what… level seventy-five? Eighty?”

“That’s exactly why you won’t be fighting my primals,” Vincent said with a grin, slapping his hands on his knees and rising to his feet. He held out a hand. “Like I said, you can call me Vince. What’s your name?”

“Aiden Scipio.”

“Well, Aiden. That’s why you'll be fighting my new apprentice.”