Marco returns to full consciousness after his deep meditation in the ballroom turned practice area. He stands, smoothing his clothes and stretching his aching muscles from long hours of sitting and trying to imitate the pressure that The Tree of Woodholme pressed on him in that extradimensional space.

  He follows his nose through the house toward his favorite room in the house. The dining room is full of excited chatter and people, Coron not present for the first time. He finds a seat, talking with those around him before the sisters appear and give their daily intonation and serve the meal. "We'd also like to thank Marco for his delicious breakfast, the mixture of solid exterior and soft creamy eggs on the interior with a seasoned vegetables and cheese filling." The sisters comment.

  The meal is delicious as usual, delicious and tender tortellini coated in flavorful and acidic tomato sauce. The ricotta filling is light and fluffy but missing a touch of lemon zest in his opinion.

  “Thank you for the meal, Ethil and Doris.” Marco says, standing and bowing to the pair. He finds Oren on the other side of the table, moving toward him, “I am planning on going into town tomorrow and seeing the Guild with my own eyes for the first time. Is that alright?”

  “Yes, that will be fine Marco but I want you back here for training at midafternoon.” Oren says, wiping the corners of his mouth. “We will review your Mana techniques and then move on to simple weapons training.”

  Marco nods to the old elf, slightly scared at his idea of weapons training as his first training session was just him getting beat up.

  Marco returns to his room, very tired from the day of training and the emotional conversation with Coron earlier. He thinks back to the reason he used to throw himself into the hot confines of the bakery that first summer. Marco dreams of that very first act of defiance.

  Flashback

  Fifteen-year-old Marco Vito was going to get his first job even he had to beg for it, he had decided that he needed a way to get out of the house and away from his family. He loved his parents but they needed to know everything about everything in his life and he felt stifled.

  Marco walks into the small bakery in the center of town, the door emblazoned with the name: Giovanni’s Italian Bakery. He pulls open the glass door and wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, walking up to the counter he asks the lady standing behind the counter for an application.

  “Hello ma’am, are you guys hiring right now?” Marco asks, trying his best to be polite and use proper language.

  “Yes, we are. Would you like a application?” The nice lady says, Alyssa according to her name tag.

  Marco nods and accepts the piece of paper and pen from the woman and fills out the application as well as he can. He passes the paper back to Alyssa, “My parents told me to ask to speak to the manager when I turned my application in, is that possible?” Marco asks.

  “Giovanni isn’t in right now; he went home for the day already.” Alyssa explains, “Giovanni is the owner, manager, and baker so there isn’t really anyone for you to meet unfortunately.”

  “That’s alright, is there a time frame for when I should hear back?” Marco asks while gazing slack jawed at the vast array of pastries and goodies behind the glass.

  “Not generally, but we are in need of help really bad right now so it should be within the week.” Alyssa says, a small smile on her face watching Marco drool over the baked goods. “Would you like something from the case? My treat.”

  “Oh! Are you sure?” Marco asks. At Alyssa’s nod he asks for a traditional cannoli and bids the nice woman goodbye and leaves the bakery.

  “She was so nice, it would probably nice to work with her.” Marco thinks to himself, “I just need something for myself, a way to grow and learn about new things.”

  Marco makes his way home, having eaten the cannoli on the way home and made sure he didn’t have any powdered sugar anywhere on his person. He pushes open the door and his mother immediately starts squealing at him.

  “Where have you been?” The sharp tone and high pitch making Marco want to hide and clutch his ears.

  “I just took the long way home Ma. I wanted to get some sun and fresh air.” Marco says in a small and slightly scared voice. His mother wasn’t ever physically violent but the same couldn’t be said about the words that poured from her at times.

  “Don’t you lie to me boy! I know how long the walks to and from school take. You went somewhere else and you will tell me or so help me God, you will regret it forever Marco.” his mother Amelia yells at him. She stands up from her usual seat in the recliner and stalks toward Marco, pinning him between her and the wall with her presence alone.

  “I just took my time, it is a lovely day outside Ma, I promise.” Marco says, shrinking back against the wooden front door. Amelia stares at her son, forcing him to make eye contact with her, a trick that he is long used to having to deal with. He stares into her eyes thinking about anything but his trip to the bakery, his boring school work, the test he had to take tomorrow, and the clubs he never plans on joining.

  She finally breaks eye contact and huffs out a breath before returning to her plush recliner. Marco scuttles upstairs away from his mother and her overbearing ways. Logging on to his computer, an old piece of equipment that ran slower than his Great Grandmother Sue.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Ripping an official document from the school’s website, he covers up all of the body text with a solid textbox and makes a convincing looking club permission form. A form that would be required if he wished to join a club, something that he is willing to fake if it means he can work in that bakery.

  Flashback Ends

  Marco wakes up with a start, having not thought of that day for many years, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and stretches. Rolling out of bed with a groan, he takes a quick shower and gets dressed in what he has been told is ‘adventuring gear’.

  An all-black outfit of tight-fitting clothes; long sleeves that cling to his skin and heavy denim-like material makes up the pants, cinched around the waist with a well-made leather belt. A small loop on the side of the belt is where weapons would hang if he was permitted to carry them, only Adventurers allowed to carry weapons in city limits.

  He grabs a small flatbread from the dining room table, filled with a warm mixture of scrambled eggs, vegetables sauteed with chilies, and cheese. A small waterskin was waiting by his normal seat, filled to the brim with black coffee, he smiles to himself moving toward the front door and makes a note to thank the pair of sisters.

  He exits the house, moving through vaguely familiar streets into the center of town where the towering spire of the Adventurer’s Guildhall. A large amount of people mingle in front of the guildhall, every one of them dressed similarly to him, black clothes clinging to strong bodies.

  The occasional flash of metal is received to be small bits of jewelry; a ring here, and bracelet there, a few necklaces grace necks rarely. “Why would people be wearing jewelry into a potential combat situation?” Marco having long been used to not wearing jewelry after years in various kitchens.

  “Maybe its enchanted.” Marco thinks to himself, not knowing if Enchantments and Inscriptions are the same. He very carefully weaves through the crowd, having read enough wuxia novels to know a young master when he sees one. Not wanting to bump into someone and risk offending them, he avoids touching people as much as he can.

  Marco reaches the grand doors of the guildhall and enters the towering building, being greeted by even more noise. Crowds of people are gathered in line or in front of boards, seemingly empty of information.

  He walks to the nearest line, waiting patiently while gazing in order at building around him, ceiling somewhere around forty feet above him. Golden wood woven together with stone and decorated with ivy, similar to the outside decoration.

  Empty boards cover the rightmost walls, the top of each board having a small symbol of the rank that the board is designed for. A small orb of copper, a cube of tin, or thin sheet of bronze adorn the first three job boards. “So, those boards must be sorted for the different ranks of Adventurers.”

  Marco slowly advances through the line, making to the desks that line the other wall of the guildhall within twenty minutes or so.

  “Hello welcome to the Adventurer’s Guildhall, what can I help you with today?” A short human girl who is sitting behind the desk asks in a peppy tone.

  “I came to ask about my upcoming entry test. I don’t need to know the specifics but just the broad strokes.” Marco asks, smiling nicely at the young girl.

  “Ah, another newbie. Of course! You will need to report to your proctor at your assigned time and then the test has a couple of parts.” The young girl takes a breath and continues, “In board stroke, the first part of the test is knowledge of Mana techniques, the second is the practical test of those techniques, followed by the combat test.”

  “Thank you miss, my name is Marco and I appreciate the information.” he says, turning around and weaving his way out of the building.

  “Not a problem, my name is Cassidy and I wish you the best of luck with your entry test.” Cassidy says and giving Marco a small wave as he departs.

  The guildhall suddenly quiets after a loud bang echoes from the far side of the room, Marco whips around ramping up his buffs in an instinctual flaring of Mana. His [Salt Skin] begins to form around him, chunky white crystals forming a suit of armor around his torso.

  The commotion quickly becomes revealed as a young elven man standing over a young human girl, outer forearms smoking slightly as flakes of some earthen material fall from his body. Another slightly older human, maybe nineteen to the girls seventeen stands with a palm outstretched, a small heat haze still pouring from around his hand.

  “Why are you attacking people in the Guildhall?” yells the boy with the [Earth] Affinity.

  “This little Healer declined our party's invitation!” The [Fire] boy responds in an whining voice.

  “So, they do have young masters here. I knew I wasn’t being paranoid.” Marco grins to himself and lets his [Salt Skin] fall apart, becoming grains before disappearing into Mana all together.

  “That isn’t even close to enough of a reason to start flinging spell.” [Earth] boy yells once again.

  “Do you know who my fath-” With a resounding thwack, almost every forehead in the Guildhall meets the floor. A pressure having billowed out of nothing and forcing nearly everybody prostrate in an instant.

  Marco manages to keep himself on his knees instead of face down, joining a small number of others. All of the other people that manage to kneel are much older than Marco, several decades to many time his age for the members of the other races.

  A small gnomish woman floats from a higher floor, a visible swirl of wind spirals around her body, holding her small body aloft without creating gusting swirls of [Air] around the room. A small high-pitched voice sounds from the space behind Marco’s right ear, “Very impressive for a man of not even thirty summers to resist our Mana Pressure.” The voice says, Marco assuming it is the gnome floating in the center of the room.

  “Now, why have we caused a ruckus in my Guildhall?” She points to the teenager with the [Earth] Affinity first. “Shen of House Lockheart, explain quickly your involvement in this altercation.”

  “Yes Guildmistress. I was looking for a job that would allow me to test some newly gained skills and this man launched what appears to be a [Fireball] at the girl behind me. I managed to summon a partial version of [Earthen Armor] quickly enough to disperse the spell.” Shen says, bowing deeply to the flying woman.

  “I see. Firebrand, I know your family and their reputation. Explain the situation I see before me.” The Guildmistress says with a steely tone.

  “I invited the young girl over there to be our party’s Healer, she declined saying that she was already in another party. We obviously have the better party so I tried again to convince her to join us as we needed a Healer.” The [Fire] mage says, “She once again declined and told me to leave her alone in a very rude tone. I took offense and launched a low powered [Fireball] mostly to scare her into agreeing to being in our party.”

  The Guildmistress looks at the [Fire] Mage with the look most reserve for trash stuck to the bottom of their shoe. “Elijah of Family Firebrand, that has to be the single dumbest thing I have heard in the last decade.” She says with a disgusted tone, “By my power as Guildmistress of Woodholme, I EXPEL you from this Guild.”

  At the word ‘expel’ a ripple of power washes out from the gnome, affecting only Elijah and flinging him from where he was standing to the now opened doors of the Guildhall.