The Mantle Passes (Archmage Book One)

1. The Knotted Staff

"We should be quicker to succeed because the sooner we achieve success, whatever the success may be; the sooner we can reap the benefits." This subject was very dear to him. "And we will be receiving those benefits throughout the time saved."

"That's a very fascinating answer." The professor wasn't even looking at Amos, but at the clock. "I would love for you to elaborate; but unfortunately, we are out of time.

Amos and the other students promptly began to exit the classroom. "I want you all to read chapter 2." a few of the students a wave to the professor as a signal that they heard him, Amos among them.

Out in the courtyard, an African-American the same age as Amos was sketching the Lightner Museum across the street. He saw Amos exit the main building.

"Tom!" Amos shouted as Tom got up and waved to him. Tom was Amos's roommate & friend. They had only just met a month before when they moved into their dorm.

"What's up?" Tom started putting his things away as Amos ran up to him.

"I've got  a free period. Gonna hit the bookstore. You?"

"I have art class next, gonna go to Art Walk tonight. Wanna go too?"

"Well," Amos sighed in slight boredom. He didn't really like that kind of stuff. "I don't have anything else to do, so OK."

"It starts at six."

"Alright, I'll see you then, bye." Amos started to head off, disenchanted.

"Hey!" Tom called out to Amos as he left. "I left some root beer in the fridge, don't touch it!"

"I don't even like root beer!" Amos shouted back. "I tolerate it." He muttered to himself.

At an old secondhand bookstore, the bel above the door rang as Amos entered. He looked around. He came here often. He saw Maris, the kind lady who ran the shop, unboxing some books.

"Hey Maris," Amos had just met her the previous month as well since he wasn't from around St. Augustine. "New books?" He pointed at the box.

"Hello Amos, they just came in this morning." She gestured to the box. "Would you like to have a look?"

"Oh yeah." Amos immediately dived into the box of books. He was now in his natural habitat. The phone in the back started ringing and Maris immediately rushed into the back room to answer. Amos was now alone as he went through the books that garnered his attention.

"Lame," he commented after looking at one titled The Age of Roosevelt.

"Ha! Modern." Amos chuckled at a book titled Modern American Poetry (the most modern it got was T.S. Elliot).

"Ooh... Nice..." Amos was interested as he held up an old copy of The Wayward Bus.

"And expensive," he got one look at the price and was no longer interested.

"Want." Amos had hit paydirt: Ancient and Modern Philosophy. Even though it was clearly old, Amos didn't mind. To him, any philosophical developments that occurred in the last fifty years were either inconsequential or just plain stupid.

He began to vigorously read it. As he was reading, a small slip of paper fell out of the book and landed on his shoe. His concentration was broken as he knelt down to pick up the paper and read it.

You have been chosen.
Go to the forest near the Southern Tip.
All will be revealed.

Amos was now very confused, but his innate curiosity streak was having a good day. He quickly crammed the paper into his pocket just as Maris returned from the back and to the front desk.