International Student (First Update)

Salomon spent the night in the powerless apartment. It was rough, but with the Cheshire Cat and the Artificial Human for company, along with candles and books, the night had not been quite so unbearable. At dawn, he woke, washed up with cold water, changed into clean clothes, then opened a portal and returned to Positano Town—Maya Hansen’s vacation time was running out, and the City of Immortals’ library still needed her to organize it. Salomon had granted her access to every book. Only when she opened those spellbooks would she not be burned to ashes by their protective enchantments.

Mr. Finch also needed Samun Shaw’s help, because two entirely unrelated numbers had appeared at once, and Mr. Riser could not handle them alone. Samun Shaw was somewhat disappointed when she heard the news, because she truly loved Salomon’s jobs. After all, not every assignment was like this one, where she could finish the job while drinking red wine and counting cash. She also liked the two Witches very much. Once Salomon, the only man, had been excluded, they chatted happily.

When the Arcanist arrived at the inn room, he found her lying groggily on the sofa with an ice pack on her forehead, looking thoroughly drunk. "You need to sober up, Ms. Shaw." Salomon hauled Samun Shaw out onto the balcony and let the breeze disperse the reek of alcohol from her body. Only Maya Hansen lent a hand—the Witches had left early to inspect the former site of Sun Island. It was still a field of ruins, and devout followers of the Ragnar Covenant still lived on the island. Only after confirming that the number of angels had nothing to do with Sun Island could the Witches set their minds at ease and continue living their lives. The Arcanist poured a bottle of alchemical medicine down Samun Shaw’s throat, temporarily binding the ethanol receptors in her body to special ingredients in the potion and easing her drunken symptoms.

"My God, how much did I drink?" The alchemical medicine worked quickly. Samun Shaw clutched her forehead and groaned as she sat up from the balcony lounge chair.

"I can’t answer that question." The Arcanist glanced at the liquor bottles rolling around the room and decided it would be better not to tell her the truth. "Your work here is finished, Ms. Shaw," he said. "Mr. Finch needs you. Put away the cash. I’ll hire you again next time. I don’t think Ms. Hansen would object to your protection."

"Send more jobs like this my way." Samun Shaw swayed as she stood. "I definitely won’t drink this much next time! Heh heh! I promise!"

"Ms. Hansen, help Ms. Shaw walk. We need to leave. Oh, hang up a sign saying no room service. I’ll have an Invisible Servant clean this place. Get up, Samun Shaw. Don’t lean against the wall. Jesus still needs you!" John Riser’s actor was also an actor in The Passion of the Christ.

"Ahem. Finished?" The Venerable One held a folding fan as she asked Salomon, who sat below her, "When will the internet be restored? So many apprentices are practically in tears. They can’t stand life without the internet."

"Soon, Master. Mr. Finch has already completed most of the work. As long as Stark doesn’t interfere, a functional firewall can be installed tomorrow." Salomon looked at the row of Sanctum stewards seated beside him. "Then we won’t have to worry about spells being intercepted. Still, I recommend that no one use phones to photograph pages from spellbooks. Privacy is difficult to guarantee in the information age."

"If you ask me, this is a place for spiritual cultivation. If the internet is down, then let it stay down. We don’t need it anyway." Master Daniel of the New York Sanctum looked fiercely imposing. As he spoke, his thick white beard bounced up and down. "I already gave my grandson a beating because he photographed a page from the Book of Vishanti and posted it online. The Venerable One, I believe Kamar-Taj should completely ban mobile phones and the internet. Those things are far too harmful for apprentices who are only beginning to study magic…"

"Yes, yes."

"Young people are just too impulsive."

A whole crowd of old men and women echoed Master Daniel’s proposal. Only Mordo and Cassilius remained silent. They wanted to object, but these stewards were far older than them. They were not heirs like Salomon and had no way to persuade the stewards. Salomon turned around and found the Venerable One staring at them expressionlessly—she probably wished she could throw her teacup at those stubborn old fossils’ heads. The Sorcerer Supreme was over a thousand years old, yet she was far more open-minded than these Sanctum stewards who had not even reached two hundred.

"It’s not that serious, Stewards," Salomon advised. "We only need to strengthen their training. Otherwise, on the battlefields of the Outer Dimensions, inadequate skill is the same as suicide. Senior Brothers Mordo and Cassilius would certainly be willing to increase the apprentices’ training."

"Oh, young people can’t possibly resist temptation. Look at you, always glued to that phone…"

Salomon lowered his head. He had not expected these old men, all over a hundred years old, to redirect their fire at him.

"Enough." The Venerable One set down her folding fan. "A bunch of little ones over a hundred years old, yet you’re less capable of accepting new things than I am. Salomon will handle this matter. You may return to your Sanctums and continue your work. Mordo, Cassilius, stay behind. And you too, Salomon. I have something to discuss with you."

"What happened, Master?" After the other stewards slowly shuffled out of the incense-filled meditation room, carrying age spots, flakes of skin, and the stench of rumbling guts and farts with them, only four people remained. Salomon was rather curious about why the Venerable One had asked him to stay. Mordo and Cassilius were as well; they still had work to do.

"It’s nothing important," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "You’re about to graduate from high school, and I’ve already arranged your vacation. You will continue your studies in Asgard’s library. Asgard has no schools. The birth rates of the Aesir and Vanir are not enough to support a school, and they receive court education instead. As for the schools attended by ordinary Asgardians, there’s no point in you going. They only teach vocational skills. So I want you to receive magical instruction from Queen of Heaven Frigga. This is something the All-Father Odin and I discussed long ago. Mordo, Cassilius, which of you is willing to take him there?"

"When would I go?" Salomon asked before anyone else could speak. "I still have a semester of classes and my final exam. If I go now, wouldn’t all my previous efforts be wasted?"

"Of course, after your exams are over. Otherwise, your foster mother would be unhappy."

Mordo and Cassilius exchanged a glance. They knew nothing about Salomon’s "foster mother," and the Venerable One had forbidden them from investigating her identity. Mordo guessed she might be some powerful witch, while Cassilius believed she might simply be an ordinary woman working for one of Kamar-Taj’s mundane businesses. In any case, they had obeyed the Venerable One’s orders and had not investigated any information about Salomon’s foster mother.

"I’ll take him, Master," Cassilius said. "Mordo can handle the apprentice training."

"Yes, Master. I believe that would be the best arrangement."

"Very good." The Sorcerer Supreme nodded. "Once Salomon finishes his A-Level exams, Cassilius, you will take him to Asgard. Heimdall will open the Rainbow Bridge to transport you. Salomon, listen carefully. Unless Kamar-Taj’s secrets are involved, you must obey every arrangement Queen of Heaven Frigga makes for you. You may encounter things you cannot understand, but that’s all right. You will understand in the future."