“Ovid, I will see you in a few weeks. For now I have a new student to pick up.” Grandmaster Fiore left as the crowd dispersed.

Ovid watched him leave before shaking his head. He turned to Derek. “This student must be something special to have Giovanni so excited.”

“He is, Master,” Derek replied. “His instincts are good and he seems to have a natural grasp of Fiore’s style. I expect within just a few short weeks the worst faults in his fighting style will have been corrected.”

“Hmm, he had better hope so,” Granny Penny interjected. “He has a trial by combat with Reynald of the Order of the Ardent Dawn in early summer to determine who will be little Diana’s Guardian when she becomes the Priestess. Come now, the day is wasting. This old lady hasn’t left the Cathedral grounds in a few years and I would like to see the sights.”

As the group left the scene of the two duels, the spectators had already dispersed and only the small spattering of blood on the ground remained to prove anything had happened there. The crowd of Holy Day goers largely ignored the blood as they did the dung from the horses in the street. As far as they were concerned horses defecate and people fight. As long as there was no corpse, a little blood on the street would excite no one.

The only news of the duels from just after noon had been that a Paladin of the Order of the Ardent Dawn had dueled and lost to a young man two tiers below him and that Ovid Balder had been seen talking with Grandmaster Fiore. This spread like wildfire through the taverns and gossips of the city and by evening, most of the populace had heard exaggerated reports of it. The youth had defeated three Paladins and Fiore had defeated, no slain, Ovid once and for all or perhaps the youth had defeated the Chapter Master himself and Ovid and Fiore had scheduled a duel within the Colosseum. The stories grew wilder as the day continued, causing headaches for many.

Heading deeper into the Temple District they saw the ostentatious Temple of the God of Merchants. A massive golden coin stood over the entrance to the Temple and a flood of shopkeepers, caravan guards, teamsters, merchants, bouncers, tavern keepers, and barmaids could be seen going in and out of the place.

It was clearly one of the most popular temples in the district. With good reason too, Windreach was a port city situated on one of the busiest highways on the western side of the continent. Easily thirty percent of the wealth in the west flowed through this very city and as the God of Merchants and Wealth and the guarantor of Oaths, this deity would naturally have a huge following. The wealth evident on the face of this building was proof enough even without the throngs of supplicants entering the Temple.

They were soon distracted by the mouth-watering smells coming from in front of the Temple of the Goddess of the Sea. Fisherfolk had set up stalls in front of their goddess’s Temple with a variety of cooked and raw fish and shellfish and a lively throng had gathered there to sample Her bounty. Derek’s family each tried various things. Being from the mountains he had had little in the way of seafood before, but he was particularly fond of the fish he couldn’t identify roasted in a honey glaze.

As they were preparing to leave Derek heard a voice he recognized and turned to see his teacher, Afua Windreach, speaking to a few of the sailors closer to the entrance of the Temple. These sailors shared her dark skin and wore light, loose fitting clothing. Sensing his gaze, Afua turned to him and smiled upon recognizing him. “Oh, if it isn’t my absent young student. I was told your status was quite grave, but it seems you have already been rehabilitated. Have you been keeping up with your lessons?”

He smiled thinly back at her, still haunted by her display in the library, “Yes, teacher, my granny has been teaching me. I have done all the coursework you sent and have it in my room at the Cathedral.”

She smiled in response, appearing once more as the perfect image of the kindly old lady she had appeared when she had first entered the classroom. “That is good, I would hate for you to fall behind. The amount of makeup work would be quite troublesome indeed.”

Derek felt chills as she said that, imagining how much more course work he would have to do if he had fallen behind. What she had already sent him to work on had amounted to several new scrolls of writing and a sore wrist. He laughed nervously, “Of course, of course. I have no intent of falling behind, teacher. My family’s leaving, so I will see you later, goodbye.”

He scuttled away, barely hearing the amused laughter coming from her and the sailors. He joined his family as they were passing the Goddess of the Earth’s modest Temple. As the goddess of farming and mining, Her temples were rarely ostentatious, except in large mining towns.

Next to her Temple was the Temple of the God of Nature. As the ruler of weather, his temple got plenty of attention from people seeking clear skies or rain, relief from drought or natural disaster. He was also known as the protector of explorers and the wild places.

Across from that was the temple of the God of War. Seeing it, Ovid turned to his student, “Derek, whenever you decide to take the Weapons Master class you will have to come here. The Masters here will test you and confirm you have the skills necessary. After that there will be a ceremony in which you will tier up and the god will mark you as one of his own.”

Derek turned to contemplate the building. Flanking the doors were two armored statues with their spears pointed out and up. Over the doors was a bronze shield with crossed spears. The building was squat and low with none of the ostentation from other Temples, but definitely not humble. It was more like a barely concealed predator.

He nodded to Ovid, “I will keep that in mind next time I need to Tier, Master.”

“This building may not look like much but it is the core of the God of War’s church here. The other main facility in this town is the Colosseum. The contests held there are meant to honor the deity. You will have an opportunity to see the Colosseum at the end of the term when the finals of the Academy’s Student Tournament are held there. You will get to participate yourself if you make it to the finals.”

Derek looked back as his master, “There’s a tournament? That seems like a waste of time. Wouldn’t it be better to just focus on our training?”

Ovid laughed, “It may seem like a waste of time, but by holding it, the Academy can showcase to the people how excellent their students are and the families sending their children to the Academy can gage how well their children have grown under the Academy’s tutelage. A great showing during the competitions will show just how great a choice it was to send their kids here, and encourage more to do the same.

“Besides,” he smiled, “the prizes are usually fantastic: rare resources for forging weapons and rare tonics to bolster attributes or increase affinity. The prizes for the Finalists for every age group can be said to be around a thousand talents, and the prizes for winning your age group would be more. It is said that the person who wins the overall contest will receive a prize worth thousands and will become famous throughout the region.”

Derek thought about that for a while before smiling, “I hope I can win then. I want to become a famous knight errant.”

Ovid shook his head and smiled at him, “Then you had better not skimp on your practicing. You may be able to beat an average Paladin, but the top students of every year are by no means average. Some have had the fortunes of kingdoms funneled into their development and while I would never assume any had worked harder than you towards growing stronger, many have worked just as hard.”

Derek continued to smile, growing glassy eyed as he imagined the epic fights he would get to experience during the tournament. He was brought out of his reverie with a cuff to the back of his head. His grandfather spoke gruffly, “Pay attention, boy, you almost walked into that lady.”

The boy looked around in embarrassment, but saw that the woman had already walked off. The area was crowded and not jostling into people was difficult here. They were approaching the Temple of the Hearth Goddess. This was the goddess his mother had prayed to for all those years in Redwyrm and also the goddess who had granted him Her blessings when he turned sixteen.

He smiled, gripping his mother’s hand as they proceeded inside. It was a cheerful, bustling place with flowers decorating the various parts of the well lit room. There was an eclectic mix of people in the room: families gathered to request blessings, pregnant women gathered to speak with the priestesses who also functioned as midwives, orphans selling craft goods for their orphanages, and injured people seeking healing on the Holy Day.

One of the priestesses approached, “The Mother’s blessings be upon you. How may I help you today?”

Eona smiled, placing a pouch into the offering tray next to her, “Mother’s blessings. I came to offer thanks for the many blessings and protections my family has received and to ask that She continue to watch over us and guide us.”

The priestess led them through a prayer and spoke with Eona for a bit. Derek watched as more and more people came to request healing. He saw the clergy cycle through healing people as they exhausted their mana pools and others took their place. The cycle continued even after the conversation ended.

Seeing his interest, the priestess spoke up, “During the majority of the year we only heal life threatening wounds in exchange for donations, but during Holy Days, we open the doors to any who would seek healing. The burden can be immense, but by the end of the day, those that came will leave healed.

“We use the donations from this to fund our orphanages, halfway homes, and soup kitchens, but it takes all of our clergy from the surrounding regions to work together to accomplish this as there are always vastly more people who need help than can give it. I can sense the holy mana in you and I know you use it for whatever struggles the world has brought your way, but perhaps one day, when you are weary of fighting, you can come here and help these people on a more personal level.”

His mother reached over and straightened his hair, “Derek, if you wish to help heal the people, we can wait here for a while. I am sure it will be a pleasant experience.”

The boy looked over at Eona and saw her reassuring smile, “Ok, thank you. I would like to do that, sister, what should I do?”

The priestess smiled at him, “Of course, just leave your weapons here with your family and we will go over now. It is important to listen to the supplicant as often the injury is just as mental as it is physical. Be sympathetic towards their feelings and help them to overcome any anxieties they may still feel towards the situation. Do you understand? Ok, it seems there is a place available for you over there. May the Goddess guide your hands.”