The Friendship Meet had arrived bright and early in the morning. The boys were awake getting filled just enough with a heavy protein breakfast.

"Thanks, Alka," Syryn passed his used plate to the green-eyed mage. Artemus had informed them a day ahead about their early morning meeting at King Hill after which the team would move to Green Valley arena as a unit.

"Luci, if you don't wear that hat, you'll suffer burns and a heatstroke." Alka gently chided the boy who was attempting to hide his wide brimmed hat in one of the kitchen drawers.

"We'll see you at the arena Alka. Bye Luci," Syryn waved and disappeared through the door.

At King Hill, Syryn and Magnus met up with their mage buddies who were exuding restless energy. An air of solemnity surrounded the mages and their professor.

"I called you here early for a brief discussion about the tournament brackets and the anti mages whose names have been released," Artemus slid a thick parchment forward which had the names of seven anti mages listed in order beginning at Rowan Windwalker.

"The 5 names are not unexpected given that you've competed against them before, but as you can see, there are two unfamiliar names." Artemus paused to look at Syryn and Gema who were also King Hill's unknowns.

"Abandoning the 6 versus 6 format that has been followed yearly, the organisers have decided to expand the participant slots this year. This is nothing but a cheap strategy to shoehorn an extra mage into the quarter-finals without upsetting the pride of mages everywhere," Artemus bluntly informed them. The anti mages had been getting too confident with their wins while the mages faded further into the background. The tasteless manner in which King Hill was given an unwanted advantage sat like a hot coal in their stomachs.

Syryn's companions hid their feelings on the matter with neutral expressions. Only Magnus showed a slight uptick of his lips like he found the situation humorous.

"Rowan has proved time and again his ability to beat any mage from King Hill. Keeping that in mind, he gets a place in the quarter-finals without having to get through the elimination round." Artemus explained without holding back the truth of every friendship meet that had taken place the past 3 years.

"To avoid a tediously long tournament, a bye has been given to one of our mages. Syryn, consider yourself lucky. You're going straight to quarter-finals," Artemus said with a grimace. If Gema was given the bye, he was fairly certain that Syryn would pass the elimination round - ensuring that at least 4 mages, in his conservative estimate, would get through to the quarter-finals.

"Any questions?" The anti mage raised his head to meet the eyes of his students. Syryn's gaze landed on the silver scar that Artemus' collar did a remarkable job of covering.

Magnus raised his arm, "If I get paired against Rowan, am I allowed to forfeit?"

The anti mage levelled Magnus with the most unimpressed look Syryn had ever seen on his face.

"You don't understand," Magnus complained, "it's too damn tiring keeping up with him. I'd rather sleep in."

"And that's enough of our discussions." Artemus rolled up the parchment and took a long look at the mages he had trained for 2 months. "You're the strongest batch to ever face Winter Fortress, and I know for a fact that this year will be different. The anti mages will come strong at you but they aren't expecting the growth that you've made in the span of two months. Whatever happens, I'm honoured to have taught you for at least this short period," he paused and nodded at each one of them - "Good luck mages."

The words of confidence from their reticent professor managed to stoke their fires. The mages had trained under the man long enough to understand his nature; that Artemus did not bullshit around with platitudes and false hopes.

When they arrived at the arena, Syryn had expected a crowd, but this was frankly ridiculous! There was a never ending line of spectators at the ticket booth, not to mention the throngs of crowds already seated in large groups inside.

On one side of the arena, Syryn spied a large collective of imposing students in smart black anti mage uniforms. They looked far too serious and stiff for the friendly competition that this was supposed to be. Rowan's hat trick performances had resulted in the current self assured and proud stance that Winter Fortress had taken.

Right next to the anti mage crowd was another assembly of students in white and red uniforms. The dignified and gentle way they carried themselves did not endear them to Syryn. Saint's Moon was a bed of hypocrites as far as Syryn was concerned. Well, not all of them, he thought, but most were. It particularly riled him up that Saint's Moon liked to cosy it up with Winter Fortress while stepping all over King Hill with sweet words that hid knives.

"What's with the grumpy face? You're mad about something." Magnus looked up from the leaflet he had been reading.

'10% off on the first visit of every month! Exclusive offer for students that require a nutritious but delicious meal at the Golden Spoon kitchen!!'

"Nothing a good fight won't fix," Syryn replied while dispelling his bad mood. Soon enough, the anti mages would learn that Rowan wasn't the only genius in town. And that brought a vicious sort of satisfaction to Syryn!

Elsewhere, the 7 man group of anti mages that had escaped the crowd was settled inside a private room under the arena. A blonde anti mage was lost in thought, hand holding a paper that he was staring at.

"Rowan, you've been too quiet. Even for you, it's getting creepy." A girl with chocolate brown hair snatched the paper out of his hand and waved it like a fan.

"Leave him be Rain, the brat is worried about his precious potion supplier." Vincent rolled his eyes at the blonde anti mage. "King Hill better have a good reason for sending the wimpy alchemist to a fight for men."

The kick he received on his shin had him yelping. "What is wrong with you woman?!"

"Exactly, this isn't just a fight for men." Rain flipped her long hair to the side and stuck a tongue out at the golden-eyed anti mage.

"Maybe- he's actually a powerful mage." Rowan turned to his friends.

Vincent guffawed at his friend's optimism. "Rowan, the brat is barely 13. A genius alchemist who also possesses insane magical powers? Do you know what that sounds like? Wishful thinking."

"He's right. It's already incredible enough that he's surpassed all the old geezers at nerd things," Rain added with a prim smile. "Where would he get the time to cultivate his magical powers?"

Rowan nodded slowly and acceded to their logical argument. It worried him more for the kid knowing he might get hurt in the upcoming fight.

"Vince, tell the others to tone it down if they meet Syryn as an opponent." The blonde told his friend after reclaiming the sheet of paper from Rain.

"Honestly Rowan, I'm not sure he'll appreciate you babying him like this," Rain frowned down at him. "From what you've told me, he sounds fiercely independent."

"He won't have to know," Rowan glanced up at the pretty girl who was hovering near his chair.

"He's here for a reason Rowan. Don't be an ass and ruin his fun." She pulled out a chair and sat on it. swinging her legs up to the only available table, Rain crossed her booted feet over it and turned to Rowan. "You're not his mother."

Vincent let out another bout of laughter. "Could have fooled me. You have no idea how much Rowan has been spending on the kid. Even Lillith never got anything more than a book on her birthday."

Rain's dark brows shot up to her hairline. "Rowan, you're not the gifting type. What gives?" Her grin was cheeky.

Rowan shrugged at his teasing friends, "what can I say? I'm a sucker for his potions. I don't trust you savages enough not to injure his hands."

Rain supported her cheek on a palm and fixed her friend with a grin. "Someday I'll steal a phial from your hoard, mother dragon."

"Time to leave Rowan, they're calling us out." A slender boy with a neat appearance spoke to the blonde in a fawning tone, interrupting their closed conversation.

The blonde nodded and stood up from his seat in a fluid movement. Folding the paper in his hand then tucking it into a pocket, Rowan led the team of anti mages out of the room. He would soon find out why King Hill had sent their genius alchemist to a tournament that valued pure strength.