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looking to meet the Templars.”

“Is that so?” The man evidenced genuine curiosity in his tone. “We don’t have many of those these days. Let me meet the little scamp.”

“Certainly. Let us in and you can do exactly that,” Vaust stated crisply.

“Aye, aye, I’m on it. Hold on a wee moment—been helping with the smithy,” the man replied. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The mori nodded and lowered the crystal from its position close to his lips.

“Who was that?” Devol asked as the glow in the gem faded before Vaust stowed it in the pouch. “And what is that?”

“The crystal? You’ve never used an apperception stone?”

“Apperception?” He shook his head in confusion before his thoughts came together and he realized what the crystal was and pointed at the satchel. “Oh, an A-stone!” he shouted, shaking his head. “No, we mostly use voxboxes to communicate. A-stones are expensive. My father has one but he won’t even let me touch it, much less try to use it.”

“Oh, that’s right,” the mori conceded. “They are rather pricey in some realms. As they were originally created in Avadon and the stones are rather plentiful there as well, they are considerably cheaper. They work better for our line of work than your voxboxes, so we each have one. They are one of the few materials that can hold Mana.”

“Like cobalt?” he asked.

Vaust nodded. “Yes, although they are not nearly as valuable as they only store rather small amounts, but they can hold dozens of different types of Mana at the same time. So you merely need to connect your Mana with one stored inside and you can communicate with that user.”

“Amazing.” Devol gasped, impressed and a little envious.

His companion nodded. “Should you decide to join us, I’ll make sure you get one.”

“Truly?” The boy grinned. “That would be wonderful.”

“It’s something to consider. And as for who that was…” A loud clang issued from the castle, and both looked up as the drawbridge began to lower. “Well, it appears you are about to meet him.”

When it settled, a man appeared and the boy’s eyes widened. He was certainly larger than any man he had ever encountered, easily over seven feet with large shoulders with a span that was easily as wide as Devol’s body was tall. A large blond beard was perfectly matched with long, unruly hair with several braids woven into it.

He wore an eyepatch that did not quite cover a noticeable scar on his right eye. The other showed a deep-set eye of a dark color and its gaze drifted from Vaust to the visitor. His large arms folded, he strode across the bridge. He wore a long brown jacket that reached his ankles, below which black boots with metal tips were visible. Beneath the jacket, some kind of gray or dirty silver armor could be seen when he moved but was mostly obscured by the garment.

The wind whipped at the giant of a man and his jacket was tossed and tugged at relentlessly, but his approach seemed unstoppable. The young Magi stood a little straighter with his arms at his side.

“You don’t need to be so formal,” the mori told him and folded his arms to mirror the man, who was now only a few yards away. “Despite appearances, he is quite a gentle giant. Well, make sure you do not do anything to make him your enemy. Start on the right foot.”

Right foot? What would that be? Devol had been very casual with Vaust. Was that the right approach? Should he offer a handshake or a bow? He had grown up around the royal guard thanks to his father and his mother had instilled proper manners. Although he admittedly might not have used them to the best of his ability, now would be a good time to recall those lessons.

The man stopped a few feet from the arrivals. The boy lowered his head—less of a bow and more of a polite nod that lasted far too long—and awaited the response.

“Damn, does it always have to be so bloody cold out here?” the giant protested. Devol pursed his lips, confused by this. It was a little chill with the wind but it didn’t seem that bad. He raised his head cautiously. The large Templar tightened his jacket before he slapped his comrade on the back. The mori seemed unmoved. “How have you been, Vaust? Took you longer to finish those gigs than I thought!”

Gigs? He was only aware of the one the older Magi had in the woods. Were they all like that? Vaust nodded and smiled at his friend. “It was mostly the travel. I don’t get to enjoy the realm that much when I’m here, so I took a slower pace. Also…” He moved his arm and gestured with his hand toward Devol as if presenting him. “This is Devol Alouest, the young Magi here to train with the Templars.”

The man looked at the youngster and noted his stiff demeanor. “You all right, kid? Nervous about being in the presence of the Templars, are ya?”

That might have been a factor but it was mostly this so-called gentle giant he was worried about. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” he blurted, straightened, and thrust a hand toward him.

“He wasn’t so nervous around me.” Vaust chuckled and glanced at his friend. “And he had never seen a mori before. Perhaps you should think about your appearance, my friend. You could be scaring potential recruits away.”

The man returned his gaze with a crooked smile, and Devol noted sharp canines amongst his teeth. “I should look into finding a jacket with some bunnies in it, then?”

“Designs or hides?” Vaust asked.

The man frowned and scratched his beard. “Does it matter?”

The mori sighed. “Yes, but let us not dwell on that or we will be out here for quite a while.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Devol, I would like you to meet Captain Baioh Wulfsun, my friend and one of the commanders of

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