Part I; Chapter 5

Chapter 5


During the rest of the day, Sage showed Kumo around the city of Devoni. All the while, Sage was debating with herself whether to visit Marina. She knew Marina lived in this city, and Sage hadn’t seen her since she had brought her last new one here a long time ago. Sage thought about it for a while and then figured out it had been five years. A lot had occurred between now and then and Sage was a very different person. Marina had been one of the many friends Sage had had back then.

Sage knew that Marina must know what had happened. As such, Sage was afraid that if she she visited Marina, the conversion could become painful. Even talk could be painful, after all—it invoked memories. But, at the same time, Sage remembered her friendship with Marina, and wanted desperately to see her and see how she was doing.

While Sage and Kumo were eating dinner, Sage suddenly realized that Marina probably already knew Sage was here. Magic was funny like that; everyone’s felt distinctly different. Because friends spent so much time together, they became familiar with each other’s intrinsic magic, and could recognize it anywhere, even at a distance. Marina had been an Advanced Magi in her time—not particularly remarkable, but nonetheless talented. Despite the effect her aging was no doubt having on her magic, Marina could still probably feel Sage’s presence. Sage knew then she would go see Marina tomorrow, otherwise Marina would be upset that Sage had come to town and not visited her.

Sage looked up from her dinner and said, "Kumo, would you like to visit and old friend of mine tomorrow?"

Kumo looked at her strangely for a second with a surprised look. Clearly she didn’t think that Sage had any friends. Kumo was an observant girl and must’ve noticed that Sage socialized with no one except Kumo. Sage frowned a little in annoyance, but then she realized that Kumo was right. Sage didn’t have any friends at the main building. Sage started becoming morose, but then Kumo smiled and said, "That would be wonderful, Sage."

And so it was settled.

-




Sage looked at the door with a strange mixture of emotions. She was curious; that was certain. Marina might have changed just as much as Sage had. Sage wrinkled the perfect skin on her forehead, wondering, for the hundredth time, whether she should be here or not. Thinking of Marina had brought back some unwelcome memories of happier days.

No doubt Marina knew Sage was very close, but still, it was polite to knock. Plus, Kumo was probably wondering why Sage was just standing there staring at a door, so Sage raised her hand and knocked softly on the wooden door.

The door opened after a minute, and within the threshold appeared a small child. Sage frowned at the child. She knew she could feel Marina’s magic inside this house, but what was the child doing here? Before Sage had anymore time to think the child gave a polite bow and said, "Hello. Mommy said to show you inside."

Sage’s jaw dropped. The child was Marina’s! ‘Time waits for no man,’ Sage reminded herself. Marina was well into her thirties by now. She must’ve had this child just a year or so after Sage had last seen her.

Sage and Kumo followed the child inside. The house’s interior, Sage quickly found out, was very attractive. It was a medium sized house; one floor with a few rooms for sleeping, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. The floor was wood covered with several intricate rugs, and a red and brown theme ran through them. There were large windows that let in natural sunlight into the room. There were also lamps lit by magic fire that would provide light but did not catch the paper shades on fire. It wasn’t expensively furnished, but everything was stylish in its simplicity. It was also very clean; Sage remembered that Marina had always been a neat person.

The child led them through the hall and into the living room. Then Sage saw Marina. She was standing a little inside the room, with a small smile on her face and her hands clasped patiently. Sage noticed that she still had a good figure, even if it wasn’t as girlish as it used to be. Sage looked into her face and saw the same steel blue eyes that had reminded Sage so many times of the ocean. These eyes, with dark eyelashes complimenting them had remained unchanged after all these years. Now, when they looked at Sage, they had a look of happiness—but also, surprise. Sage had been expecting that.

The two women, without saying a word, stepped towards each other and embraced. Sage felt then a tremendous surge of nostalgia. It had been years and years since someone had hugged her. Marina’s arms were warm and felt like a mother’s encircling her lost child.

When they parted and stepped back, Marina said, "It’s so good to see you, Sage."

Sage smiled and said despite her increasing melancholic nostalgia, "Yes, you too." And she meant it.

Marina smiled coyly and then, unexpectedly, she bowed. Sage looked at her with a surprised countenance. Sage knew that both of them would never expect Marina to bow to Sage, no matter what rank Sage was. Marina had been one of her friends, and had also helped teach her at times. But when Marina came up, Sage could tell by the smirk on her face that it had just been a joke. Sage didn’t really think it was funny, but she forced herself to smile.

"I heard about your…" her steel blue eyes flickered to the mark on Sage’s forehead, and she frowned, "…promotion."

But it was more than that. Sage’s throat constricted and she felt a great surge of despondency. Sage knew exactly what Marina meant to say. It was the best way Marina could say it. Someone from the main building must’ve contacted her and told all about what had happened. No doubt she felt grief, but not to Sage’s extent; Sage had been effected more than anyone had. Fearing to test her voice, Sage gave a good look at Marina’s face instead. It had changed, although that was to be expected. There were lines there that Sage had never seen before—small creases at eyes and mouth. But she was still a pretty lady.

Sage could see Marina’s eyes flickering at Kumo, who was standing beside Sage, every so often. Marina, who had been an Advanced Magi in her time, could feel the tremendous power flowing out of Kumo. She didn’t voice her perplexity, though; she was too polite.

Then Marina smiled, and Sage could see that all those creases were from smiling and not from frowning. She must be living a happy life. Beaming, she said, "But now is not the time to think of such things! Sage, you are looking lovely. You’ve grown into even more of a beautiful woman, if that is possible."

Sage smiled, but privately she was sick and tired of people calling her beautiful. She must’ve heard that from a hundred different people a hundred different times. Sage knew she was attractive, but she wished people wouldn’t judge her by that. Then she remembered that Marina didn’t. It was different being around people who were really her friends. Out of politeness Sage replied, "Marina, you are looking very well yourself. And this…" she turned to the child, "…is your child?"

Marina grinned broadly, a proud mother. "Yes. My husband is out working."

"Husband? Marina, you have been busy!"

She smiled, "Well, life is different outside the main building… speaking of the main building…" her curiosity was overcoming her courtesy it seemed, "…you have a new student, I see."

"Yes, sorry, I’ve been rude. Marina, this is Kumo Mashiro. Kumo, Marina."

With this, Kumo stepped forward and bowed in Japanese fashion. Kumo spoke English so well, Sage sometimes forgot that she had been raised in Japan. Marina, who was American like Sage, was surprised at this and looked at Sage for help. Sage tilted her head a little bit, meaning Marina should bow back. Marina got the message and bowed rather awkwardly.

"It’s nice to meet you," Kumo said when she came up.

"And you too," Marina smiled broadly. Sage noticed that she was looking at Kumo in an odd way. Marina was over twice Kumo’s age, so accordingly, she was smiling at Kumo like any adult would look at a fourteen-year-old. But, at the same time, Sage could tell that Marina was reaching out with her magic, and sensing Kumo’s magic fully for the first time. Kumo looked at her strangely. Now that Kumo was starting to be trained, she could feel that Marina was using magic on her, but she wasn’t exactly certain what she was doing. It was an odd feeling, coming into contact with someone else’s magic. Sage scolded herself for not explaining to Kumo earlier that this was a custom between magical people. It was a way to figure out how much magic one had and what kind it was. Thankfully, Marina took only a second, and when she was done, her smile turned to a sincerely respectful one, as if Kumo was an equal. Sage supposed she was, if not more.

"Such magic…" she turned to Sage, "…how long have you been training her?"

"Only a few weeks," Sage replied.

Marina looked at her incredulously. She blinked a few times, then she squinted her eyes into little slits and asked very devilishly, "Have you… tried her out yet?"

Sage smiled at hearing it phrased like that. "No, not yet. I haven’t done some training I need to for that."

Meanwhile, Kumo glanced back and forth between Marina and Sage and looked very confused. ‘There’s another thing I’ve forgotten to explain,’ Sage thought to herself with an inward sigh. She wished she could be as good of a teacher as Nikita and Jillian had been to her.

"Hmm… she will go far, Sage. Very far, I think." Marina said, momentarily forgetting herself and staring at Kumo in wonder. She blinked and turned her attention to Sage. "Why don’t we go have some tea?" Marina asked, smiling once again.

Sage nodded, glad to be distracted from her private thoughts.

-


The hotel room was simple, with a few drawers and two beds. A single window lended the only light in the darkness. Even then, it was not much—the moon was but a crescent that offered but a little pale light. Sage tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable way to lay. No way was comfortable. Sage sighed in frustration. The bed was cozy, but memories plagued her and denied her any sleep. Kumo, on the other hand, was fast asleep in on the other side of the room. Sage could tell from her even, deep breathing. ‘That child always sleeps so well,’ Sage thought with mild jealousy. Finally, Sage forced herself to stay in one position, and closed her eyes.

But, suddenly, they popped open again.

Sage! Sage! There has been attack here in the main building! First building, third floor, Room 57… one of the training rooms.

Sage was suddenly awake and alert. There was no mistaking that voice… it was the Mistress’. Sage silently cursed the rouges. Her anger started to bubble up. Her eyes glazed over for only a moment and she thought, ‘I’m coming.’

In one graceful move, Sage pulled off her covers, stepped out of bed, and waved her hand. Her clothes changed obediently into a simple black tee shirt and black pants. There was no time to lose. She ran silently to the door and opened it, only to be stopped by a sleepy voice.

"Sage? Where are you going?"

It was Kumo. Damn it, she had woken up. Sage turned around with a severe look of annoyance on her face. "There’s been an attack on the main building. I must go."

"Wait, Sage, let me go and help!"

Sage glared at her with an expression that clearly stated the fool Kumo was being. It was unlike Kumo to speak or act so irrationally. Even in the dim moonlight cascading through the open window, Kumo could see her face and recoiled a little.

"Kumo, you can not go. Your power is no where ready to face this threat."

"But—"

"No! You will stay here!" Sage said as softly as she could, but it still carried just as much venom. Sage knew she should speak with such anger to Kumo, but there was no time to be nice. Sage ran silently closed the door, and then ran out of the hotel. Sage inwardly thanked Nikita for teaching her how to run without making a single sound. For only a moment, while summoning magic, Sage felt the cool night air blow gently against her. But she found no peace here; the spell was summoned and she disappeared.

-


Sage ran down the corridor of the third floor with slightly short breaths. She had gotten the message from the Mistress only, maybe… thirty seconds ago, but Sage knew all too well that thirty seconds could cost a life. There was no time to slow her pace now. Sage had stopped paying attention to room numbers and let her magic guide her. She felt a fierce fight raging and much magic being let out. Once she reached to room, she kicked open the door.

With a quick appraisal, Sage could see four women in the room. Three magi and one munda. Sage could feel immense magic emanating from the two magi on the right, and so she knew they were the rogues. The other magi was on the left side of the room was on the ground, unconscious. She has severe cuts on her arms and legs and seemed to have taken a blow to the head. Her blond hair was soaked with her own blood. The munda, presumably the fallen magi’s partner, had an arm that was covered burns and well as many bruises and cuts all over her body. The arm was injured, but in it, the young woman still clutched fiercely to a blood-slicked sword. Even with such determination, she would not last much longer in this fight. She was panting from the effort of fighting. The room was covered with splashes of blood and burn marks from magic fire. Sage didn’t flinch at the scene; she had seen far worse.

Two munda against two magi. This would make for an interesting fight. Wasting no time, Sage formed a wall of air and sent it towards the two rogues. One, tall with short red hair who only had suffered minor injuries, formed a shield of water that easily fended off the air. Sage sensed something unusual about her. She was much stronger than the other rogue, although Sage did not know why. The other woman, a shorter woman with long black hair tied back into a ponytail, threw up her arms in protection, and formed an air shield. Sage noticed now that she was missing a hand. It did not bleed. She must have used very strong magic to prevent blood loss. It was amazing what these rogues could do when they were filled with such great will.

The woman with the missing hand glared at Sage. The eyes of a rogue, Sage thought, were even more menacing then their magic. They were an inferno of hate. The eyes burned with purpose. Such will summoned unthinkable power. Sage had always been slightly awed, and terrified, by the magic that must have been used to trap these women’s minds and make them do such terrible things.

Wasting no time, Sage followed her attack of air with fire. Sage had always liked using fire. Now, she decided to concentrate it into a beam. Pulling the fire together on itself only made it burn hotter and more deadly.

Sage looked up at the magi with the black hair, and pulled her anger forward. It was these rogues who has caused her so much suffering. Women like these women. Sage screamed in fury as she unleashed the fire beam. The magi arrogantly smirked and threw up another shield of air a few feet in front of her.

Sage watched with bated breath as the beam of fire flew across the room with impossible speed. The magi held her shield fast, positive, it seemed, that the fire would not pierce it. Sage didn’t intend to try to break the shield; she knew that would be futile. As the beam reached the shield, Sage summoned her strength and redirected its course. The beam streaked up towards the ceiling, missing the shield. Obeying Sage’s power, it then came back down.

The rogue’s eyes opened wide, not expecting Sage to have the power to change the course of the beam. She has not dealt with a Master Munda before. Now was the time to make the fatal blow. Sage directly the beam towards the munda’s heart. The magi would not have enough time to recall her water shield and make another. This rogue was as good as dead.

Sage saw a streak in the corner of her eye. The injured munda came back into the fight in attempt to help Sage. She ran behind Sage and towards the red-haired magi. She held her sword high in both hands, ready to strike. The munda used her magic to make her run faster. Sage knew it was a useless attack no matter how fast she ran. No magi would be stupid enough to just stand there and get hacked by a sword. Especially a rogue. The munda was obviously acting irrationally because of her fallen friend. But at the same time, the will to avenge her fallen comrade only made her magic stronger. The will of revenge could be turned into incredibly strong magic and give stamina one would not normally have, Sage knew.

The magi with the red hair sneered, and formed a powerful ball of light with lightening supplementing it. Sage had no choice. She released control of her beam and quickly sent out a strong shield around the charging munda.

Sage’s eyes were suddenly turned back towards black-haired rogue as she let out an ear-piercing shriek. The beam of fire, not directed properly, had been veered off-course and had pierced the woman’s shoulder in a spray of blood. Sage ran towards her, as fast as she could, and formed a simple knife in her hands and she ran. Sage was filled with the will to kill. It strengthened her magic. She streaked across the room in a flash.

The black-haired rogue had her eyes closed tightly from the pain of the beam, and didn’t see Sage running towards her. The rogue opened her eyes only in time to see the knife, wielded by Sage, plunge into her own heart. She released her last breath, looking straight at Sage with eyes clouded with death. She slumped to the floor. Sage breathed heavily. Her chest heaved. Her grisly deed was done, but the magic was still coursing through her. The hate was still there—one death was not enough to satisfy her hunger to kill. She didn’t even notice the warm blood that had sprayed on her face and clothes.

Suddenly, Sage remembered that she could not let her anger get out of control. Relying on years of practice, Sage grasped inwardly for control. Sage blinked, and relaxed the glare on her face. Wasting no time, Sage calmed herself and regained her composure in a split second. Sage had years and years of practice supporting her.

There was a flash behind her. She turned quickly, seeing the ball of light bounce off her shield of magic that was protecting the munda. It hadn’t been good enough though; the lightening made it through the shield and electrified the injured munda. Sage cried out; that should not have happened—Sage had made that shield incredibly strong. The munda screamed in agony as the lightening burned her skin and shocked her everywhere. Sage knew she had to do something. The black-haired rogue was laughing evilly at seeing the munda in pain.

Sage threw out her arm and sent forward a fury of large razor-sharp icicles. They hit the raven-haired magi with such force that it threw her against the wall of the training room. She was pinned. Several icicles stood out of her body—at her collarbone, her arms, her hand, and her in her hamstring. Blood ran onto the icicles and down her body.

Then the magi did the last thing Sage expected. She laughed. She laughed hysterically, almost screaming. Sage walked over to her with a calm expression of cold, pure hate on her face. Sage’s brilliant green eyes looked at the woman with all the contempt Sage could muster. "Who sent you?" She growled.

The magi spat in her face.

Sage placed the battle-dirty knife at the magi’s neck. "Who sent you!" Sage screamed.

The magi stopped laughing. Her eyes changed. They suddenly got very wide and filled with fear and pain. Her brow wrinkled in agony. "Master Munda…. Sage…."

Sage felt as the world had just crashed in on her. It was always like this; on the verge of death, if not killed quickly, the rogues were released from their spell. Despite her torrent of emotions, Sage showed only a calm mask of battle. Sage knew how to control her expression as to belay no emotion. Inwardly, though, she was screaming. No, don’t let this happen. This is the worst thing that could happen! In the magi’s extreme pain and trauma, the spell had been broken. Or perhaps her master has released her. Sage creased her eyes in frustration, trying to divine answers to questions that could not be answered. Sage had no idea how, but this magi was no longer a rogue. It was useless now, though; this woman was going to die. Her injuries were too much.

Sage’s eyes flickered up to the woman’s forehead. Then Sage saw something she hadn’t noticed before: on the woman’s head, there was a triangle with three small circles surrounding it. Sage felt her face pale; this was a Master Magi! In the heat of battle, Sage had not seen her mark. This certainly changed things…

Sage’s eyes suddenly were brought back to the woman’s eyes as she spoke.

"Master Munda Sage…" the woman said in a soft, struggling voice, with blood running from her mouth, "…forgive me…"

Sage stared at her, drowning in a sea of emotions and questions. What could this mean? Sage wanted to vomit, cry, and scream all at the same time. Summoning her strength, Sage put on her face a look of pride. She hoped to give this woman, in her last moment, whatever solace she could. Sage put a hand to the young woman’s cheek.

"You have committed no crime." And with that, Sage slit her throat.

Sage had, indeed, forgiven her. In such agony, Sage had given the woman the only thing she could—a quick death.

Forgiveness is such a strange emotion.

-


Sage ran over the munda who was lying on the floor in pain. Her breaths were short and shallow. Sage kneeled by her. Sage reached out with her magic and felt the extent of this woman’s injuries: several cuts, burns all over the right arm, three bruised ribs, and a broken collarbone. Sage was glad to find that none of her internal organ had been ripped apart or severally hurt by the lightening. This woman was going to live. Sage put her hands an inch above the woman’s broken collarbone and started to mend the bone.

"What is your name?" Sage asked.

The woman could hardly breathe through her pain, but managed to whisper, "Christina."

"Well, Christina, you’re going to live but that’s the best of it."

The collarbone came back together and Christina sighed softly at the relaxation of some of her pain. Sage then moved her hands over the young woman’s ribs and started to seep magic into them that would help them heal and ease the pain. Suddenly, Christina grabbed Sage’s hand and looked up at Sage with wild, desperate eyes.

"Ann. Help Ann."

She meant the magi. Sage looked at the desperate expression on her face, and nodded without argument. As Sage walked over to Ann, she seriously doubted Ann was alive. After putting a finger to Ann’s throat, she realized she was right. There was no pulse. Just to make sure, Sage carefully reached out with her magic and tensed herself. The icy feeling of death greeted her magic. Sage shivered, and went back to Christina.

"Hold still," Sage said softly, as she started healing Christina again.

"But… Ann…" Christina stammered, "You have to help her!"

Sage looked down at Christine with eyes that conveyed no emotion, "She is dead. I can’t help her now."

Magic, no matter how strong, could not bring someone back to life.

Christina stared at Sage, wide-eyed. "No! She’s not dead!"

Christina started to sit up, but Sage gently pushed her down at the shoulders. "Christina, she is dead. I can not help her."

"Nooooo!" Christina screamed and she fought against Sage. If she wasn’t careful, she would hurt herself. Sage decided that she had to take control of this, so she used a strong force of air to push Christina back and keep her there. Christina let out a wail and tears slid from her eyes. With magic gently keeping her down like a blanket, the only thing she could do was cry. She sobbed uncontrollably as Sage started healing her cuts. They were worse than Sage had thought. This girl was strong; she managed to keep fighting even after losing a substantial amount of blood. After most of her injuries were healed, Sage released the hold of air. At once, Christina scrambled up and ran over to Ann. She hugged Ann’s corpse and shed tears on it. She wept in racking sobs.

Sage was in a trance. This was terrible; Christina was in uncontrollably agony over the death of her partner. Sage felt remorse clamp around her heart in an iron fist. This scene was all too familiar. Sage finally rose from her knees and walked out of the room. She shut the door behind her and let Christina be alone with her grief.

Sage’s back slid down the wall outside the door. She drew her knees up to her chest in a protective position, and put her hands over her eyes. There were no tears. Sage never cried. Yet, depression closed in around her like a cage. She shook uncontrollably, though it was not cold. What was wrong with her? Sage never let her emotions run wild like this. She has seen many deaths more gruesome than this. But Sage knew why this was different. Dear lord, she knew.

Sage removed her hands from her eyes, and stood up, strengthening her resolve. There were things she needed to do. She breathed deeply for a few second, regaining control over herself. She shut her emotions and memories away. She walked down the hall, making no noise at all.

-




Only when she reached the door to the Mistress’ office did she realize she was covered in blood. She sighed. At least it wasn’t hers. She quickly used her sleeve to rub the blood of her face. She then waved her hand. Her clothes were replaced by ones of the same type, only clean. Sage realized that she must look like a mess anyway. She was exhausted, her hair was disheveled, and she was all sweaty. Oh well, the Mistress didn’t care.

Sage knocked on the door.

"Come," the Mistress’ voice answered.

Sage went in. She walked over to the Mistress’ desk and bowed. It was strange to bow; the Mistress was the only one in the building Sage had to bow to, so she didn’t bow too often and wasn’t used to it.

"The threat has been eliminated, Mistress," Sage said without emotion, "the rogues were two magi. One of the two you sent were killed before I arrived—Anne, I don’t know her last name. An Advanced Magi."

The Mistress sighed. "…what of her partner?"

Sage said, "She was hurt, but I healed her. Physically, only, though, I’m afraid. She is… quite distraught."

The Mistress looked out at nothing in particular and said, "That is to be expected. They knew each other for quite some time."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Sage shifted her weight from one foot to another, wondering how to phrase her news. "Mistress…" she started, "…one of the rouges was a Master Magi."

The Mistress returned her gaze quickly to Sage and gave her an unreadable look. It was Nikita who had taught Sage how to read the emotions displayed so clearly on peoples’ faces—and how to control her own. Sage had always had a good idea who had taught Nikita this precious skill.

"What?" The Mistress asked, staring at her with her disturbing red eyes.

"I know. But that’s not even the worst of it… she…well…" Sage stammered. No matter how much prestige and rank Sage had, the Mistress always had a way of making her feel uncomfortable…if the Mistress wished it. She continued, "…she was released from the spell before she…expired."

The Mistress squinted her eyes a little in a quizzical way. "That has happened before…?"

Sage continued, "yes…of course it has happened before. But not like this," Sage paused. "Before she died… she asked me to ‘forgive her.’"

The Mistress allowed surprise to seep into her features. She knew what that implied. Just like Sage. Forgiveness meant that there was guilt, and even perhaps that she had done this willingly. With the power a master magi held, putting her under a mind-control spell must have been exceedingly difficult, if not impossible. Perhaps, then, she had given in willingly…

The Mistress sighed and shook her head. "I will have to think on that."

The red eyes settled back on Sage. Sage could feel, then, the Mistress’ magic reaching out, searching Sage for wounds.

"Sage, you never cease to amaze me. Not even a scratch. Although," she made a face in mock disgustment, "you might want to have a bath."

Sage smiled a little at the joke, happy to have the subject changed from such serious matters. "I think I’ll do that, Mistress. I have to be going anyway; I left Kumo at a hotel in Devoni."

The Mistress nodded, recognizing the name of the city. She seemed to think for a moment and said, "That is a…unique girl, no doubt. Is her training going well? Do you need help?"

"No, Mistress, she is a wonderful student. She is progressing very fast."

The Mistress gave her a meaningful look, "Do you think she will be ready to try for the next rank soon?"

Sage sighed, "I think she’s been ready since I got her, Mistress," the Mistress lifted an eyebrow, "but there are things I still need to teach her. Certainly you know the extent of her power."

"Yes. It is amazing." She thought for a moment then continued, "But it is strange, I felt no munda power. Of course, I wasn’t looking very hard for that because it was so clear she was a magi. Have you felt any munda in her?"

Sage shook her head, "No, I haven’t. I need to find that and develop it before she tries to get her next rank. That’s the only thing holding her back."

The Mistress’ expression became serious. Her blood-red eyes fixed intently on Sage, "See that you do that."

"Yes, Mistress."

Sage bowed and left.

As Sage walked through the building, she thought about her conversation with the Mistress. She was angry with herself. She knew she should have been trying to find Kumo’s munda power since the first day. But, she knew it would be very difficult. Sage had been so excited about developing Kumo’s magi power that she had neglected the munda side. Sighing inwardly, Sage resolved to start right when they got back from the city.

Suddenly Sage was pulled out of her thoughts by nearly running into a girl she hadn’t noticed was standing in the hall. When Sage looked up at the girl, she realized it was Christina. Even though Christina was looking down, Sage could tell that her face was stained with tears and her eyes were red and puffy.

"I… I just want to… thank you, Master Munda Sage. For helping me. It was an honor to fighting beside you."

Sage was in a testy mood, but when she saw this girl in such misery, she couldn’t bear to be mean to her. Sage thought vaguely that the girl really hadn’t fought much after Sage got there, but then again, she had been injured.

Sage looked at her with sympathy, "You did well. Ann would be proud of you."

Christina looked up through her tears. Sage looked at her forehead. She almost gasped in surprise; on her forehead, there was a large circle and only one small circle. This girl was only an Intermediate Munda! She had put up a good fight before Sage had come; she had managed to stay alive, at least. That was beyond the skill of an Intermediate Munda.

"In fact…" Sage continued, "…I am proud of you, too. You fought with skill beyond that of an Intermediate Munda. For that reason," she smiled, "I’m going to promote you."

Christina looked up at Sage with wide-eyed disbelief. "But… I thought that…" she stammered, "…you could only gain rank by defeating one higher than yourself… in battle."

Sage grinned, "No. The Mistress, Master Magi," she counted on her fingers to add effect, "and Master Munda have the power to promote someone. If the promotion is justly deserved." She winked. Oh, how well, Sage knew the truth of that.

Christina wiped her tears away and gave a very weak smile.

"So…" Sage put a finger to the young women’s forehead, "Prepare yourself."

Christina put her hands into fists, closed her eyes, and tightened her muscles. Having one’s mark changed hurts. The pain was, in some ways, a test of gaining rank. Sage concentrated on her task, and let the magic flow into Christina.

With a sudden flash of light, Christina gasped in pain. Her back arched and made her stand up straight. When Sage had completed her task, she withdrew her finger. Christina opened her eyes slightly, on the verge of collapsing.

"Thank you…" she whispered, and then she fell to the floor, unconscious.

-