I wake to a splitting headache and the bizarre man or woman, I’m not sure, whom I foolishly checked for magic retains his motionless stature. For a moment, I am laying on the tatami mat, back in Sahud. Only now the faces of two children, a dark man in a turban, and a lizard man eating live vermin from a bag float above me like perplexed clouds of dizzying colors.
Sanjay, the Arab, helps me up and the flower named girl wipes the blood away from my nose. I must leave this place or I will surely go mad.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here, since I left my room at the Valley Inn this morning. I met a water mage named Andy who helped me get to the Mage’s Guild. Walking through the exotic Al-Wazifi section of Tredroy, he points out various landmarks including the dreaded Imperial Embassy of Megalos. I imagine Jordan Seigebreaker inside, planning my murder in the service of the demon Emperor.
I dust myself off and head out the doorway, which instantly changes into the busy reception hall, populated with robed students with varying stripes of different colors circled along their arms. Mages of all colleges hawk various magical wares to customers who seem to come from around the world.
“Congratulations apprentice,” a long bearded Arab approaches me, his hand extended, “I am El-Adeen, Arch Magus of Weather.”
“Weather?” I ask myself, half believing he can read my mind.