“So you’re going to be a mage?” my old friend Dhurk asked. He was a trustworthy Bangaa, with a fierce fighting instinct. “Yes. Why?” I asked back. “What are you choosing? Templar?” The muscular bangaa frowned and sighed, “Warrior. There’s little hope we shall meet again.”

The slightly younger Seracor tried to find a way around this, but could find none. She frowned as well. “I’m… sorry, Dhurk. But I cannot drop my ambitions to become a mage.” He looked down at his feet for a moment, before offering his hand to me. “May you have the best of luck in your dreams.” I shook his hand. “And the same to you.” And so, we ealked from the billboard with specialization offers. It would be the last time I saw Dhurk as we parted ways…

Those were the good old days…

I emerged from my memory. Varagas was sitting in meditation. The bitter wind and odd feeling persisted. And I blinked a few times. The bitterness subsided all of a sudden! “Sephith!” I shouted. He was walking our way.