Leno arrived in the town of Clover in the morning after traveling for two months with a caravan of merchants he knew and had worked with in the past.

  He gazed at the town's entrance for a moment. It seemed busy and full of movement, which was normal considering it was one of the most frequented commercial towns in the region.

  Its quick development and popularity were mostly due to its location near the borders of the Kingdom, making it the last stop for those venturing out into the Dark Lands.

  After finding his way off the main road and down a few side streets into the quieter part of town, Leno arrived at his destination: a two-story house where an old friend resided.

  The place looked abandoned for a very long time. The first floor had a shop window covered with wooden boards, nailed to the beams, just like the door. By the looks of it, no one lived there anymore.

  Leno pulled out the letter he had received a few months ago and read it again. His friend, Varol, had asked him to visit with great urgency. Leno double-checked the directions, confirming he was at the right place.

  He knocked on the door and waited, puzzled by the situation, but no one answered. Was it some kind of joke? Or perhaps his friend was in trouble? Leno had met Varol at the bookstore where he used to work years ago. An old and eccentric fellow, as he liked to call himself—a self-proclaimed artist of all things arcane.

  They became friends after Leno showed interest in learning how to harness the power of magic. Varol recognized his potential and introduced him to the arcane arts.

  Leno had received hundreds of riddles and puzzles to solve over the years, which helped him grasp the basics of magic without needing to attend an arcane school. If anything, Varol understood magic in a way that few others could.

  A few minutes passed, and only the muffled sounds from the main road could be heard; he seemed to be alone. Leno decided to figure out how to enter the house to learn the fate of his mentor.

  But how to enter? There was no visible way to get inside without dismantling the barricaded front, and Leno wasn't known for his physical strength.

  He looked up and saw that the second-floor windows were closed with shutters but not blocked, so he thought climbing up and entering through there was his best option.

  The old building was made of rough stone, and climbing it proved to be a challenge for the aspiring wizard. However, fueled by determination and curiosity, he climbed steadily until he reached the window.

  The effort left him breathless, his hands aching, but at least he was now inside.

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  To his surprise, the room was empty, filled only with spiderwebs and a fine layer of undisturbed dust covering the wooden floor.

  Puzzled, he cautiously scanned the room and called for his mentor, but only silence answered. Leno was certain he was alone.

  He walked further into the house and opened the only door in the room. It led to another empty room, slightly larger, and a set of stairs going down.

  It didn't take long to explore the house: two more rooms below, including what looked like the main workshop and the storefront.

  The house was empty—there wasn't a single piece of furniture. It was as if no one had ever lived there.

  As he reached the main door of the house, he looked at the floor of the entrance. The rays of light from the street crept between the boards.

  One of the rays revealed an envelope lying on the floor, identical to the one he had received previously, patiently waiting to be picked up.

  Oddly enough, the letter was pristine; not a single speck of dust could be found on it, and his name was written on it.

  Leno carefully picked up the letter and opened it to read its contents. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he imagined the worst possible reasons for all this.

  However, as he read the words of the letter, he calmed down enough to wash away all the tension he was feeling, replaced instead with excitement. A smile formed on Leno's face.

  “Dear Leno,

  This is, or rather, this was my first workshop. As you can see, it's just the carcass, not even a ghost of what it used to be.

  I'm sorry I didn't have the time to clean it up to receive you, but I'm concerned with matters far more urgent.

  The reason I called you here wasn’t to meet you; again, I apologize for that.

  I figure that by now, you can be called a Wizard, and with all the rights to do so, even if the stuck-up archmages of The School of Devorne like to think otherwise.

  For that reason, I decided to give you this place. It is of no use to me, and with some hard work and a little bit of magic, I'm sure you will make good use of it.

  What and how—that's for you to discover. The journey of a Wizard is unique to each of us, and now only you can decide where it is going to end.

  Should you find the means to locate me, and more importantly, reach me, you're more than welcome to share a cup of tea with a friend, just like when we used to meet.

  Your friend,

  Varol”

  Leno felt blessed by fate and fortune to have crossed paths with such a charitable and powerful individual and couldn't help but rejoice because of it.

  He didn't want to let down his mentor, and that filled him with motivation. First, he had to put his newfound home back in shape before making any plans about what to do next.

  The keys to the door were hanging on a nearby hook in the wall. He unlocked it and crouched through the gap between the boards. Clearing the entrance was a priority.

  He locked the place and walked back to the main street, looking for a general store. He remembered where the merchants from the caravan arrived, so it shouldn't be too far from there.