Stepping into the magical elevator, Nick waited until the doors had closed behind him and he was completely alone to sigh. He'd known his words would be seen as both a challenge and pure arrogance, but he did not expect the room to descend into such chaos that it would require the Vice Tower Master to flex the wards to restore silence.

After the man was done laughing his head off, that is.

Ebenexer Politod initially seemed like an extremely serious man, with his gravelly voice and deep-set eyes, but he turned out to have a good sense of humor. After calming the hall, he had cheerfully declared himself very happy to know that the newest batch was so ambitious.

"Archmage Tholm's office," Nick remembered to say once it was clear the metal cage wasn't about to move without a direction.

Fortunately, that was enough, as it smoothly took off, giving him a few moments to gather himself.

"It might have been a bit reckless to challenge every mage in the Tower so openly. But that's the persona I chose. I'll just have to follow through on my words," Nick muttered to himself.

He wasn't particularly worried about retaliation. No serious mage would see his words as anything more than a declaration of intent, but he was certain that once the waters had calmed, he'd start receiving even more attention than his first-place position would have given him.

With that attention would come challenges, which he desperately needed if he wanted to keep advancing while stuck inside the Tower.

"Floor Seventy-seven, Archmage Tholm's private quarters. Authorization Needed." The elevator's cool, feminine voice announced, and Nick pulled out his invitation, waving it around and feeling foolish about it.

With a click, the cage slid open, letting him out.

Blinking to readjust to the softer light, Nick almost wondered if he'd gotten distracted enough for the day to turn into late afternoon, but he quickly realized the warm orange hues that painted the room he'd stepped into were artificial.

It was clearly a reception area with leather couches, a low table stacked with books, and a cluttered library. The windows, which should have let in natural light, instead emitted soft colors, which he noticed came from a series of filtering enchantments.

Overall, it was a cozy space, and the feeling was only heightened by the two teenagers curled up on separate sofas, slowly flipping through various books and taking notes as they went.

Both looked up at his arrival, recognition lighting their eyes as they noticed him.

"Uh, look at that. The man of the hour has some skill, if he managed to complete the Master's puzzle," the younger of the two, a girl who looked to be around Devon's age, wearing expensive-looking robes, whose nails, lips, and eyebrows were painted in silver makeup, which Nick was surprised to notice were there to hide some kind of runic tattoos or carvings.

"Archmage Tholm wouldn't have invited him if he didn't think he could do that much," the other, a young man a few years older than her, replied, before shrugging dismissively, "We'll see if he has what it takes to stay. At least he has courage."

He seemed faintly impressed, and Nick realized these two must have been in the crowd at the ceremony and had to have slipped out while the other recruits swarmed him.

"Good morning," he called, since neither seemed interested in introducing themselves. "I am Nick, as you might already know. Where can I find Archmage Tholm?"

The girl's face twitched, and he got the impression she wanted to snort, but she held back, just raising her hand to cover her silver lips. "So you are capable of being normal. That's good to know."

Despite her words, Nick couldn't detect any mockery in her tone. In fact, she appeared somewhat impressed but was desperately trying not to show it.

"Well, I suppose since you'll stay with us, at least for a little while, I might as well introduce myself," she continued, unaware of the amused smile the older teen next to her was wearing. "I am Willow Washer-Woodsers, second-year apprentice to Master Tholm, and Baroness of the Silver Groove."

Nick nodded in greeting and took a moment to examine her more closely.

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It was surprisingly difficult to read her beyond surface emotions, something he was quite sure was connected to the things her makeup was concealing. Still, he got the impression that while she had enough mana to be considered strong for her age, she wasn't going to be a powerhouse.

Around the upper thirties in level, if she is a pure mage. If something that gives her less mana, perhaps in the lower forties. Pretty good for a sixteen-year-old.

"Yes, introductions," the older boy said, clapping his hands and standing up. "I am Raphael Uther, a third-year apprentice to Master Tholm, and currently the senior apprentice."

He extended his hand, forcing Nick to walk closer to grab it in what was clearly a petty power move. They shook once and let go, smiling politely while secretly trying to analyze one another.

This one is a bit stronger, probably level fifty if I had to guess. He's also very proud, despite his polite front, and tends to categorize everyone in neat little boxes. My little show earlier must have upended his expectations.

"It's a pleasure to meet both of you," Nick replied, then turned to the closed iron door behind them. "I suppose that's where the Archmage is?"

Raphael hummed in agreement, "Yes, the Archmage couldn't participate in the Commencement Ceremony because he was busy with an important project for the Alchemy department, but I'm sure he will be here soon. Just take a seat here in the meantime."

His green eyes tracked Nick's every move, showing he wasn't finished with his assessment yet.

"Alright," Nick replied, choosing a couch that looked unused and plopping himself down.

The moment his behind hit the cushions, a piece of cardboard suddenly appeared in front of him, startling him with how fast it showed up.

Spatial magic, again. What the hell?

Seeing the amused expressions on both older apprentices' faces, it was clearly a common experience, but Nick chose to take it in good humor. It couldn't even be considered hazing, really.

What was more interesting was the piece of cardboard that had appeared out of nowhere, which, upon a closer look, he realized was a menu offering all kinds of refreshments, from beverages and snacks to full meals, including thunderhoof steak.

Is this heading straight to the Tower's kitchens? Did the Archmage create a food-making artifact? The paper looks completely non-magical, except for a reinforcement enchantment and what appears to be a recall anchor of some sort, so I'm guessing there's something else at play to track the orders.

"You can ask for anything you want," Willow finally said, taking pity on him. "It draws from a separate space the Archmage created where time is frozen, so you can get everything listed there within a second of asking, and it will be as fresh as if it were just made."

"Ah," Nick hummed, "that makes more sense. Is there a regular schedule for restocking the supplies? I assume there's no need for personal kitchen staff, given how this system works, but I can't imagine the Archmage has his apprentices wasting time on cooking."

Raphael snorted, relaxing into the couch now that they were past the introductions, "No, the Tower's staff knows to set aside a portion of the meals they cook and place it into a box that is connected to the space."

"Efficient," Nick nodded, trying to figure out exactly how many failure points such an enchantment had.

He didn't doubt the Archmage's ability to set it up, of course, but he suspected it was only possible because they were inside the Tower, which acted as an anchor to any and all spatial magics that would have otherwise required enormous resources to cast.

Then again, it might be simpler than I'm thinking. If it's literally just two spatial boxes linked by sympathetic magic, one that can only be added to and the other that can only be taken from through vocal commands, it might not be that difficult. Or rather, in the context of spatial magic, it could be only slightly more complex than a regular pouch like the one Rhea and Dad have.

Before he could delve too deeply into the enchantment's inner workings, the heavy iron door swung open, revealing the same man that Nick had seen strolling through Wolfram Manor's gardens.

Archmage Tholm wasn't the most intimidating of men, considering his relatively short stature—he was eye to eye with Nick, who still had several years of growth ahead—and his silver-threaded white beard, but his eyes held an intensity that was hard to put into words, and Nick instinctively knew that he could be very dangerous.

"Ah, our newest recruit!" Tholm exclaimed cheerfully. "I see you solved my little riddle, then. I apologize for the extra work, but you see, no matter how talented or powerful a mage might be, something I've learned to watch out for even more is aptitude."

Nick shook his head, letting the scroll appear and handing it over. "No problem, sir," he said, slightly unsure of how to address the man. "It was a fun few hours."

It really hadn't been, but there was no need to say that.

Given the amused look Tholm and the others wore, they seemed to know just how frustrating those puzzles could be, but they had the courtesy not to say so.

"I'm glad to hear that," Tholm said, tapping the scroll with a satisfied expression before waving him in, "now, Mister Crowley, follow me. We need to discuss the terms of your apprenticeship, and I'm sure these two have more important things to do. Right?"

That last word had enough inflection to make the senior apprentices stiffen, and they immediately returned to their positions, making the old mage chuckle.

Nick followed him into the study, which closed with a soft click despite the weight of the door, and was surprised to find it didn't look much different from his father's official study in Floria's Town Hall, just with a few more clearly magical knick-knacks scattered around.

Tholm must have noticed his surprise, because he explained, "I have several laboratories set up on this floor for my own experiments, and a vault in the Tower's depths I use for the more dangerous stuff. No matter how cool it might seem to have an obviously magical study, I've found that it's better to keep things properly compartmentalized to enhance efficiency."

Nick nodded along. He wasn't the neatest of mages, but he understood the importance of avoiding magical taint. Having a room full of enchanted objects without a way to put them in stasis seemed like a problem waiting to happen.

"Now then," Tholm said, gesturing for him to sit down. "Let's cover the basics first."

Nick sat, giving him his full attention.

"An apprenticeship with me usually lasts seven years. I don't accept new apprentices annually, nor do I retain those who wish to leave early. However, if you wish to receive the full benefits, this is the required timeline. You will also receive a monthly stipend of one gold coin while working with me. You'll be required to take lessons in at least Enchanting, Secondary Elements, and Magic Theory, along with private lessons I provide for Artificing and other subjects I find necessary. Additionally, you will have a room in the private quarters reserved for my apprentices on this floor, and you must follow the basic rules we've set, including returning any books you borrow within one month and refraining from experimenting with destructive magic without supervision. The details should have been outlined in the invitation, but please let me know if you need any clarification."

"No, sir," Nick smiled as if butter couldn't melt in his mouth, more than satisfied with what was being offered, "everything is perfectly clear. I'm in."