“I am Michael Diaz, and I don’t know where my homeland is relative to here.” Thinking about how not to lie, yet not give too much. “As for what I desire, it is to trade.”

  “How did you get here if you don’t know where you came from?” Asked the King.

  Michael lifted his hand, searching for the right words-then chose to demonstrate instead.

  Two portals flared open in front of him, black rings rippling outward like oil on water.

  Gasps filled the hall as the throne room exploded into motion.

  Steel shrieked as a dozen guards drew at once.

  The court mage’s voice cracked the air, and a deep violet dome appeared around the King.

  The guards next to Michael placed their swords around Michael’s neck.

  “What is this!?” the King barked.

  The female mage’s staff ignited with runes, her eyes wide but focused.

  “I sense no mana, Your Majesty.”

  Michael froze, throat threatened by cold steel.

  Before anyone dared strike, Elion broke from his knee.

  “Wait!” he cried. He hesitated, then stepped toward the swirling black ring.

  “Elion, stand back!” yelled Julius.

  But the prince ignored them. He reached the first portal and vanished, reappearing several feet away from the second one.

  Silence followed.

  The mages stared in confusion. The king’s eyes narrowed. With a slight flick of his fingers, he signaled the guards to lower their blades and the mage to collapse the barrier.

  The king leaned forward, voice low and dangerous.

  “Explain this… Arcanist.”

  “What is an Arcanist?” Asked Michel as he unfroze, trying to get some answers.

  “Alana.” The King queued the female court mage.

  “An Arcanist is anyone whose power lies outside the understood. Those who wield forces that most mages can’t explain or replicate.” She responded while walking to Elion.

  “These are portals. Portals connect two places, which is how I got here.” Michael said, while thinking ahead to how to convey what he had to offer.

  “Elion is not under any spell, your majesty. These strange garments are not enchanted, at least not with mana,” she said, looking at the portal as it closed.

  “Of course not, the Arcanist saved me from the ones who ambushed me, and he kept me safe, perhaps waiting for the criminals to give up.”

  The King paused for a minute while his gaze remained on Michael.

  “Again, where are you from?”

  “I don’t know where it is relative to here.”

  A low murmur passed through the hall. Someone scoffed under their breath.

  “You expect me to accept that answer?” the King asked, eyes narrowing. “You arrive with a missing prince and impossible magic, yet claim no banner, no kingdom.”

  Michael looked at him and said, “I could provide you with names, cities, and nations, but they won’t have any real meaning for you. Your maps don’t include my homeland, and mine don’t include yours.”

  Astrum shifted slightly, studying Michael’s face, the crystal in his hand, his tone, his breathing.

  Roland watched in silence for a long heartbeat, then exhaled slowly.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “If I cannot place your homeland, I can at least weigh your intent.”

  His voice cooled.

  “What do you seek to trade?”

  Score! Mike thought as a smile grew on his face.

  “I offer many things as long as the terms are right,” Michael said ominously as his calculating mind pushed the fear away. “Our scholars have dedicated their lives to understanding how the world and nature work without mana. Believe it or not, where I come from, there is no mana, yet we have been able to change every aspect of life without it.” Saying this, he noticed the mages staring with curiosity. “For example, a king’s true wealth lies in two things only: the prosperity of his subjects and the power of the forces that defend them.”

  The room was deathly quiet for a minute, everyone’s hair standing on end as the King’s fingers drummed on the armrest once.

  “Prosperity and power,” he repeated. “Spoken like a man who has seen both lacking.”

  The king leaned forward.

  “Yet you claim a realm without mana has mastered both,” he said slowly. “Then you will not speak in riddles.”

  His voice hardened just enough to remind everyone whose hall this was.

  “Show me,” the King commanded, “what your people can offer that would increase my people’s prosperity… or the strength of my armies.”

  ◇◇◇

  Michael was rubbing one of his wrists as the handcuffs had just been removed. He stood in the training grounds behind the castle with the King, having Alana by his side, with a barrier up already. Michael was in line with his competitors. First was the King’s best archer, ready to draw an arrow from his quiver. In the middle, there was Astrum with his staff in hand.

  “As you proposed, we will see how your people’s artifacts fare against my people.”

  Michael opened a portal, retrieving his FN Five-seveN. Every time he opened a portal, everyone got tense, especially now that his hands were free.

  “The three of you will shoot at your armored mannequin at the signal.” Explained Julius.

  Michael was confident, as he chose the ranged demonstration at about 50 feet from the target. He had no doubt he would defeat the archer, but was questioning the mage.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  “Ready,” Julius said as all the contestants tensed while he was swinging at a bell. The archer’s fingers hovered over his quiver, knowing he’d have to snatch an arrow, notch it, draw a heavy bow, and release.

  The mage steadied his breath, mana already flickering around his palm.

  Michael raised his pistol to low-ready, a motion practiced hundreds of times in the last month.

  The bell’s chime hadn’t even faded before the first target was hit.

  Michael fired first, one sharp gunshot that echoed across the training yard. His round punched cleanly through the helmet of his own target.

  He snapped to the next, firing again just as the mage’s firebolt left his hand. Michael’s shot struck first in the chest; the firebolt arrived a heartbeat later, scorching the dummy and leaving a big dent where the dummy’s organs would have been turned to mush.

  Lastly, he swung to the archer’s target. The bowman’s red glowing arrow had only just punched through the plate armor, almost missing due to the sound of the gun going off, when Michael’s shot slammed into the dummy’s lower torso, right below where a navel would be.

  The King’s eyes were wide open for a second before they narrowed, looking at the gun. All the soldiers gasped after they realised what had just happened.

  “I can still shoot way more before I have to reload.” Michael bragged as he put the gun away through a portal once again.

  “This is not a fair challenge, my lord. I could have used a bigger spell and taken out dozens of targets.” Astrum tried to cover up his loss.

  “True, but my artifact can be used by anyone, mana or no mana, with just some training to improve their accuracy.” Michael defended his victory. “And there are way more powerful weapons where I come from.” Michael was already worried about how he would get military-grade weapons and explosives.

  How can I juice as much as possible out of this? He was already thinking about what to ask in exchange for a single gun and some bullets. First, I need to learn about magic and see if I can keep one of these translation artifacts.

  “Let’s talk with a little more privacy, Arcanist Michael,” King Roland said while eyeing Julius. “And not a word about what has happened on these grounds to anyone.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty!” responded all who were there at the training grounds.

  ◇◇◇

  Crystals illuminated the room with a blue glow. Michael sat opposite the King, who had a new person seated next to him and an empty spot to his left. On the side of the empty seat were the court mages, and on the side of the newcomer sat the guard captain and the prince.

  “The guest does not speak Common, Marshal Halden,” Julius said. Halden’s eyes weighed Michael the way a lion sized up its prey.

  A heartbeat later, the air beside the King rippled with lightning. A figure stepped out of the light, a man with a snow-white beard and hair, but skin too young to match. His cloak seemed to have a faint glow, barely visible to Michael. Michael gave him his undivided attention for a few seconds, as he felt the man looked familiar.

  “I suspect you already know what is going on, old friend,” King Roland said, the edge of tension in his voice dulled but not gone.

  “Have I?” the newcomer replied, amusement threading his tone. “I hear a manaless weapon has just humiliated my old apprentice, who has reached the Third Tier,” said the mysterious mage as he sat on the empty seat next to the King.

  “I am a Fourth Tier mage, Nelius, and somewhat of an Arcanist myself.” He introduced himself as his staff let off small electric discharges, like a wooden Tesla coil.

  This is the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m a sheep disguised as a lion trying to bargain with wolves, and guns might as well be a stick to these two. He thought, looking at the Marshal and the new mage.

  “Your Majesty, why is Prince Elion present for the negotiation?” Questioned the Marshal with a displeased tone.

  “Without him, we would never have met Arcanist Michael, and he seems to have kept him company for a moon.” The King responded. “Now, let’s get started. I have seen what you spoke of, and it is no lie. Now, what exactly do you offer, and what do you want in exchange?”

  Taking a deep breath, Michael leaned forward and began.

  “The greatest thing I can offer your kingdom is knowledge. Allow me to show you.” Michael opened a small portal and reached through, withdrawing the terrorist’s pistol. The room barely flinched this time-everyone had already seen enough to numb the shock.

  “This is called a gun. I can trade these to you myself, but what you truly want is the understanding behind them. Making one of these will take time; your blacksmiths can’t mass-produce them without sacrificing quality, but there are simpler weapons that sit between a bow and a gun. Weapons you can build now that would immediately boost your armies’ ranged power.” He let that sink in before continuing.

  “And guns are only a fraction of it. I know about inventions that improve daily life and methods to increase crop yields. Knowledge is the real treasure I’m offering.” Michael’s confidence could be felt.

  “And in exchange…” said the King, worried about the cost of such knowledge.

  “I want knowledge,” Michael said, lifting the translation crystal between his fingers. “Magic, artifacts, anything that helps me understand your world.”

  He drew a steady breath. “And when it comes to trade, I’d prefer Prince Elion to be present whenever possible. He already has tasted the fruits of our food industry and some other artifacts as well.” Michael was already preparing a future ally.

  “Though I can provide the artifacts themselves and some basic information on magic, we will need to strike some sort of deal with the Tower for more in-depth magical knowledge.” He said, turning to the tower master.

  “I imagine the Tower Master would benefit as well,” Michael said. “A world without mana solves problems in ways your scholars have never seen. That kind of knowledge can only expand his abilities.”

  He opened another small portal and reached inside. When his hand emerged, it held a taser.

  “This is a more advanced kind of artifact,” he explained. “It stores energy and releases it as a controlled burst of lightning. While not lethal, our people use it to incapacitate someone temporarily. May I?”

  After the king nodded, he thumbed the switch.

  The taser crackled to life, bright arcs of electricity flashing between the prongs. The sharp, rapid snapping drew the Tower Master’s full attention immediately.

  “Indeed…” the Tower Master murmured, a thin smile forming as the chaotic sparks danced across his eyes. “Knowledge for knowledge, then. On one condition.”

  His gaze hardened.

  “You shall not share what you teach me with any other kingdom, or any mage, without consulting me.”

  Before Michael could answer, King Roland spoke.

  “On the crown’s end, you will trade military and agricultural techniques and artifacts exclusively with Valoria. Any invention with the potential to be used in war belongs to us alone.” Then, more calmly, “You are free to trade harmless goods elsewhere, like tools, comforts, novelties, to anyone.”

  Michael exhaled slowly.

  “Exclusive…” he echoed, weighing the word. It wasn’t a surprise, just confirmation of what he already suspected.

  His thoughts sharpened. There’s no way I can start handing out guns and gear to every nation here. The government would notice the moment I tried to move anything serious or in large quantities. And dealing with another kingdom? That’s just asking to get killed, imprisoned, or poisoned at dinner. I am not willing to roll the dice again just yet.

  He nodded.

  “I haven’t approached anyone else,” he said aloud, meeting the King’s gaze. “And I don’t intend to. These terms are… acceptable. I would very much appreciate it if I could have a place to rest without going back home, preferably with a modest yard in case I need to experiment.” Pausing as if trying to see if he forgot anything, he got an idea. “I would also appreciate a mask to hide my identity, durability first of all, and preferably black.”

  “Done,” said the King

  “Consider this my goodwill.” Said Michael, pushing the gun forward alongside two magazines. “It is a bit inferior to the one I used in the yard, but it should penetrate armor when colliding head-on. These are ammunition; each magazine holds 15 bullets, which are what actually hold the power. The gun is just how you aim and release its energy,” he went on for 5 minutes, giving them a rushed class and some general common sense in safety, without revealing the science behind it.

  “For you, Prince Elion, I will gift this since the first time we met, you were in danger. It seems like it would be a nice hidden weapon.” Giving him the handheld taser. “It should be able to activate for 30 seconds at a time before a short break for it to cool, and then activate again for at least 10 more cycles.” That should give him some good connections to the tower master.

  “On our end, we will give you this translation crystal that should last five winters. To be truthful, the one you hold would have shattered if you had intended to deceive.” Said the King, producing a cube similar to his own yet less decorated.

  “May I test it before I take my leave?” said Michael. I knew they were being too trusting. But now… would this work back on Earth?

  Roland nodded, probably expecting a simple lie to test it.

  “The elites of my homeland wield weapons that can wipe entire kingdoms in seconds… yet I serve no one.” The room went quiet, all shocked by how the crystal remained intact and by the meaning this had. “I trust all of you completely-” his sentence stopped by the crystal cracking and falling apart in his open palm, and falling on the onyx table.

  A few seconds of deafening silence passed before Michael slowly rose to stand.

  “Where I come from, a deal is closed with a contract or a public handshake.” Said Michael, holding the upgraded translation crystal the King had given, as he extended his right hand.

  King Roland stood and looked at him for a few seconds before shaking his hand firmly.

  “I will be back tomorrow by the gates.” The mysterious manaless Arcanist said as he walked away from King Roland into a black portal.