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he’d undergone, weighing up whether or not it had fulfilled his expectations. He thought about the decision he’d made just after graduating from the College of Collective Magicks. It had been a very hard choice to make. He’d received an invitation from a member of the ruling council in Bolanze, offering him the chance to shadow the magician who served as his advisor and eventually take over that esteemed position when the old mage passed away. It was an extraordinary opportunity for such a young man, and Bolanze was a cultured and sophisticated city. Situated on the south coast of Antropel, it was a major centre of commerce, and its rulers were important players in the politics of the Southland. Bolanze was soaked in warm sunshine throughout the year, but balmy coastal breezes kept the streets from growing too hot, and its citizens ate outdoors all year round.
    All in all, it was difficult to turn down such an offer, especially when Chloe had been in his ear about it day and night, urging him to accept. But there was something Sestin loved more than luxury, social position and sunshine; something he valued even more than Chloe, or any of his friends, and that was magic itself. He was beguiled by it – not just by its power but also by its beauty. He had a burning desire to acquire knowledge of the art-form he loved so much, and if he settled into a role as a working magician, he may lose much of his freedom to do that. Old Clem, his mentor at the college, had always said that you learned more of magic on the road than you ever could in a classroom, and something about that statement had fired Shirukai’s imagination.
    There were several reasons behind Old Clem’s mantra. For starters, if you placed yourself in challenging situations, you were often forced to find creative ways to use your magic. It was where theory was tested and developed by harsh reality. What you may have thought would be useful while cloistered in a comfortable study may prove to be utterly worthless on the road, especially when those around you distrust magic and shun its practitioners.
    In addition to that, there were numerous isolated societies dotted around the continent, all of which had their own magical practices. There were soothsayers, shamans, weather-watchers, and many other denominations of spell-caster. Healing ran through these traditions like a vein of gold, but each of them applied it in a different way. Who was to say what those healers may have discovered through decades of practice? Many formally trained magicians were snooty about such practitioners, seeing them as pagan and simplistic, but Old Clem had disparaged anyone who thought like that. The wisest magicians understood that you could learn something from anyone if you paid enough attention, and even a hedge-mage may have something up his sleeve that could teach you a thing or two!
    Enticed by the promise of knowledge, Shirukai had decided to roam the length and breadth of Antropel, using his healing skills to pay his way while he learned more of the art of magic.
    Chloe had begged him not to go, of course, but as far as he was concerned, if he didn’t do it while he was young, he might never get another chanc e. So despite her protestations (and her sweetly whispered promises) he had donned his travelling cloak, and set off down the road on his own.
    He’d travelled for many months, journeying right up to the icy mountains of the North, where he’d learned much from the tattooed shamans and their earthy traditions. Next he’d passed down through the Karkarus desert in the central region of the continent, travelling with the nomadic merchant-tribes that traversed that forbidding land. Finally he’d journeyed down to the coastal regions of the South, avoiding the city of Bolanze and sojourning in smaller towns and villages instead, where he used his healing gift to great effect among the provincial locals.
    He’d learned a thousand little things about magic during his