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Seth wasn’t supposed to come into the clinic today, but he always liked to be there when Master Alastair came to deliver potions. It was one of the rare times he was guaranteed to see Alastair and be more-or-less alone with him. Seth was always careful to be respectful, to not stare and hang all over him like others did. They usually talked about current events, books and Alastair’s work.
If anyone asked, Seth would tell them he was here on his day off because he was bored and looking for something to do. He would inevitably get roped into helping with patients or cleaning and he would be here until late in the evening.
He didn’t mind. Viktor always paid him for his time and more hands got more things done.
Alastair’s pretty unicorn was grazing on the grass in front of the clinic. She raised her head and shook it, the golden strands of her mane catching the morning sunlight.
“Hey, pretty lady,” Seth cooed to her. She swished her tail and tossed her head, shining golden horn glinting in the midday sun.
Seth wished he was game enough to go over there and pet the unicorn, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting her. She tolerated people while her Master was around, but he had no idea how she might react to being touched when he wasn’t there. Most people thought unicorns were beautiful, harmless creatures but Seth had always had a great deal of respect for that wickedly-sharp horn on their foreheads. An enraged unicorn was not something he ever wanted to see.
He walked inside the clinic, turning and heading down the familiar hall straight for the supply room. He hoped Alastair wasn’t on his way out yet.
The door was mostly shut, bright light peeking through the gap. He opened it and stepped inside.
And stopped, blinking.
The young man setting vials of glowing green liquid down on the table was definitely not Alastair. His flyaway hair was strawberry-blond and his skin was a lighter shade than Alastair’s. He was dressed in a dark indigo coat and had that indefinable aura around him that all Sorcerers had.
It was as though Seth was looking at something that belonged on a higher plane, something that did not quite fit in the mortal world. It was a common impression when you saw a Sorcerer.
The Sorcerer turned around at the sound of someone entering the room, dark brown eyes finding Seth.
Seth's breath caught in his throat. He knew it was rude to stare, but here was quite possibly the most enchanting creature he’d ever seen. Features a little irregular, ears too big, nose a bit crooked, this man wasn’t most people's idea of pretty. That, in a Sorcerer, was absolutely unheard of. Every Sorcerer in history was beautiful. If they weren’t lucky enough to be born beautiful, they used spells to make themselves beautiful. Magic allowed them to become what most people could only dream of. Who wouldn’t want to be desired, loved, worshipped?
This Sorcerer’s raw imperfections and the confident, unapologetic way he held himself said that he didn’t think he needed to change his looks and anyone who thought otherwise wasn’t worth a moment of his attention. That was more alluring than any pretty face, even one as beautiful as Alastair’s. It was —
Enchanting.
Narrowed eyes and an angry scowl were the only warnings he got before the Sorcerer dashed forward and a fist hit him hard in the face.
Seth ran a hand over his injured jaw. Formerly-injured now. The potion he used on it had worked quickly. It was a little tender, but there was no real pain.
That punch had come out of nowhere, god damn it! Why couldn’t he be dealing with kind, gentle Master Alastair today?
“Who are you?” he asked the violent stranger.
The Sorcerer was leaning against the table with one hand on his hip. “I'm Ace, Master Alastair’s former apprentice. He told me he won’t be around for a while and asked me to take over for him.”
“Why did you hit me?” Seth ran his fingers over the area again. His skin tingled where the potion had healed it.
Ace sat on the table, long legs kicking idly, eyes still blazing with fury. “You deserved it. Don’t insult me.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t break my jaw!”
Ace made a derisive sound and a sweeping gesture with a hand. “There are enough healing potions here to mend over thirty broken jaws.”
In the right hands, anyway. Contrary to popular belief, you couldn’t simply pour a potion over a major injury and expect the magic to fix it properly. He would either have had to wait for one of the senior healers or hope the Sorcerer knew what he was doing and deigned to help him.
“That’s not the point!” Seth snapped back. No wonder the Master had never mentioned this particular student. Poor sweet Alastair had probably erased the time he spent teaching this hellion from his memory. Who in the world hit someone for complimenting them?
“What’s going on here?”
Both turned their heads toward the gruff voice. Viktor, dressed in his usual white and red uniform, stood in the doorway, taking in his assistant, the scowling Sorcerer and the general state of things. There were dark circles under his eyes and Seth was sure he hadn’t slept much last night, if he’d slept at all. There were too many lines on his face and strands of grey in his dark hair for a man of thirty-five years.
Maybe Alastair should have taken Victor with him wherever he had gone, because Victor really needed a break.
“I’m Ace, one of Master Alastair’s former apprentices. I’m delivering the order of potions for him. He won’t be available for a month or so,” Ace said.
That too-innocent tone grated on Seth’s nerves. Ace sounded as though they’d been interrupted in the middle of a nice, civil chat about the weather.
“Oh?” Viktor asked with a concerned frown. “Is he ill? He hasn’t hurt himself, has he?”
It was just like Viktor to jump to the worst possible scenarios, though to be fair he was right often enough.
“He’s completely fine. Just taking some time to do things he’s been putting off and visit family.”
Victor smiled. “I’m Viktor, the head healer here. It’s nice to meet you.” Viktor bowed, but not as low as he should have. Everyone who lived here was used to Master Alastair, who always insisted that no one bow to him at all. They were out-of-practice when it came to dealing with other Sorcerers.
Ace didn’t appear to take offence, so perhaps he shared his Master’s distaste for formality. He smiled at Viktor as he hopped down from the table and picked up the case that had been carrying the potions. “I’d best be going. Good day, Healer. I’ll no doubt see you again.”
He shot Seth a glare as he passed, smouldering eyes promising that they weren’t done.
Damn. He didn’t need a Sorcerer pissed at him. Maybe he should just apologise, even if he wasn’t sure what exactly he had done wrong?
A bit too late now. Both healer and assistant watched Ace as he breezed out of the room.
Viktor crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head toward Seth, waiting.
Sheepish, Seth explained the situation.
Viktor, the unsympathetic bastard, just laughed. “He clearly thought you were teasing him. I’m sure it’s happened often.”
“I wasn’t!”
“I’d try to give some advice, but romance isn’t my area of expertise.”
“What? I don’t want to go out with him!”
Victor laughed again. “Sure you don’t! Now, I’ve got too much to do today to stand about chatting, so you can either go home or help.”
Well, at least someone was having fun.