As Erend sat in the magical theory class he couldn’t help but drift off. His mind wandered to the dreams. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d stood on that battlefield, but he knew he’d stood there many times before.

When it came to weapon handling, he understood that he was dreadful. Which hinted at him not having used weapons a whole lot in the dreams, at least not swords.

If I ever find myself in the dream again, I should try to find a spear… keep things simple. Maybe I could try to keep my pi--

“Mr. Sulford! Care to join in on the lesson?”

Erend was startled awake from his thoughts. The class burst out into a giggle. Professor Abrams had set his sights on him, there was no escaping the hiding he had coming.

“Yes, professor. I’m sorry.”

“You must feel very knowledgeable about today’s subject if you feel comfortable daydreaming. Come now, stand up when I’m speaking to you.”

Erend silently stood up.

“Now then. Where was I...? Care to enlighten me on what topic this lecture is about?

Erend’s eyes went darting around the room, looking for some sort of hint, any hint.

Surely they’re not discussing the assignment still. Come on, someone.

He locked eyes with a classmate, Sandra, who seemed to be trying to word something to him.

C… O… N? What the hell is she even saying? Con? Some sort of convenience magic then?

“Of course, professor. I know a thing or two about con magic. We even have a few devices at home. Obviously, I don’t know enough to laze around though,” Erend said confidently.

The class burst out into a laughing frenzy.

“A valiant effort, Erend. Nonetheless, incorrect. What are we discussing today, Sandra?”

“Original spells, professor. Scholar spells, to be precise,” Sandra answered with a sly grin. When Abrams looked away she sent Erend a wink.

Did she just sell me out?

“Correct,” Abrams enthusiastically announced with a clap of his hands. “Maybe you can teach your classmate a bit about it after class. In exchange maybe he’ll even decide to grace you with his broad knowledge of con magic. In the meantime, Erend, I’d like you to go stand in the corner,” he leisurely pointed Erend toward the corner.

Downtrodden, Erend responded, “Yes Professor,” and walked over to the corner of shame.

“So. Where was I? Oh, yes of course – the scholars,” Abrams said as if struck by enlightenment. “Could anyone help me out?”

The hands of Erend’s classmates filled the sky. Abrams nonchalantly pointed at one in the middle rows. The student, a freckled boy, stood up with a proud smile, “The scholars are a gathering of intellectuals that endeavor to better understand The Source.”

“Precisely!” Abrams agreed and continued, “Source bending – or casting – is an endeavor that only the most dedicated throw themselves at. As Erend so kindly noted; some use this hard-earned privilege to imprint source patterns on common tools, enabling their owner to channel source through it, emulating an original spell. Con magic; short for convenience magic. Questions?”

“Could you imprint any source pattern you wish on a tool?” Sandra eagerly asked without raising her hand.

“Yes and no. Can anyone tell me why?” Abrams asked and searched through the crowd of eager students, “Stein?”

“Yes professor. The material has to be able to withstand the strain of the spell. To summon a wall of flames, for example, would require an unfathomably sturdy object to support the flow of source,” Stein glanced smugly at Erend before he sat down.

Know-it-all.

“Another great answer. Those who don’t need to use con tools; casters – sorcerers and wizards – have bodies and source pathways that are unusually sturdy; they also grow stronger with use. Materials, however, have a set limit to the amount of Source they are capable of circulating. ”

Sandra followed up with another question, “How does one become a scholar?”

Abrams smiled warmly at her, “To be a scholar is to throw yourself at the study of source, regardless of class or profession.”

“And how do I become a wizard or sorcerer?” another student voiced.

“Some, the truly talented and relentless ones, strive to walk down a path of magic. Once they can cast without the use of a con tool; we call them wizards, or in rare cases – sorcerers. However, to be among the ones with enough aptitude to learn casting is uncommon.”

Another curious student, Joseph, raised his hand. “Exactly what differentiates a sorcerer from a wizard?”

“Sorcerers tend to be instinctual geniuses, capable of casting by feeling alone. They are a rare breed, and their capabilities generally eclipse the ones of a wizard. Wizards, on the other hand, aren’t much different from the scholars, apart from the ability to cast without a tool. Many children of nobles and rich folk start walking the path of magic early on to have an advantage in knowledge when they awaken.”

“That’s so unfair,” Sandra exclaimed.

Abrams nodded along with her and agreed, “It is.”

“What differentiates a wizard from a scholar then?” Joseph asked.

With an annoyed sigh Abrams explained, again, “All wizards can cast, not all scholars are capable of that.”

“But everyone can feel the source after awakening. Why can’t the scholars just train enough to be able to cast?” Joseph didn’t relent.

“They can. And what are they known as when they are capable of casting?”

“... Wizards?” Joseph asked with a puzzled expression.

“Right you are!”

“What good will awakening be if I don’t even want to become a wizard?” another student, Mikaela, asked from nearby Erend’s corner.

“It’ll be useful in so many ways! For one, you’ll be able to use con magic. But more importantly, awakening means you will be strengthened. With enough training, you can even infuse Source into a craft. Take Erend’s father, Thomas, for example; he’s able to craft blades sharper than any I’ve ever seen, all thanks to his use of source,” Abrams said encouragingly. “Well, would you look at the time? That’s all we have time for today. Next time we’ll speak of magic circles and rituals. I hope you’ll be more interested then, Mr. Sulford.”

“Of course, Professor,” Erend responded from his corner.

The class rumbled into motion as the students picked up their materials and made for the next lesson, history.

The rest of the day went as it normally would. Being sent to stand in the corner was in fact very embarrassing, therefore Erend focused more on the teachings and decided to save his daydreaming for after-school hours.

Erend spent his lunch joking around with Charles, and before long the day was over.

Erend stood by the gate, waiting for Charles to say goodbye to his class.

He’s always been the social type.

Surprisingly Sandra walked up to Erend and said, “Sorry about class, you know how it is, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Erend responded and thought, I did, in fact, not know how it was.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I knew you’d understand! See you tomorrow,” Sandra gleefully said as she hurried past him with a smile. A scent of flowers brushed past him as she skipped away.

Erend stood, lost in thought for a bit before Charles hurried up to him.

“What was that about? Didn’t take you for a womanizer.”

Erend rolled his eyes, “She sold me out in class. Abrams embarrassed me in front of everyone as a result.”

“Yeesh, rough. Wanna plot your revenge?” Charles asked as they started walking home.

“Hmm, I guess? Any suggestions?”

“We could send her a false love note. The guys in my class have been talking about how she has a crush on Theo. We could make the note out to be written by him and tell her to wear something weird if she feels the same way. Shoe as a hat maybe?”

Horrified, Erend looked at his friend.

“A joke, it’s a joke. Calm down,” Charles said, raising his hands in defeat. “Obviously we won’t enact the plan. Unless…?” he continued with a grin.

“No! No ‘unless’. Absolutely not.”

“Alright, alright. No fake love notes, we’ll just…”

“You’ll do what?” came a gruff voice from behind them.

Charles and Erend froze, slowly turning around as Charles tried to come up with an excuse, “Uhm, you know – Oh. It’s just you.”

“Thank god it’s you, Albert. I don’t even want to imagine what someone from school would say about us if they heard that,” Erend said, releasing the breath he’d unknowingly held.

“Just me? Ouch. You awaken a year before your friends, and this is how they treat you. Growing up sure is tough,” Albert said as he walked up alongside them. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Forget about us! What about you? Last we heard you’d been employed by some shipping company?” Charles asked.

“As a guard,” Albert added smugly as he patted the large axe on his back. He was tall and had lost most of his boyish features, replaced by a square face and a chiseled jaw. His shoulders were broad, his hair a dark brown and cut short.

“He hasn’t even left the island yet,” Erend quickly said.

Albert deflated, “Why can’t I have nice things, Erend? I just wanted to gloat for a little bit… Soon you’ll both awaken as well, then I won’t be able to brag anymore.”

“Sorry, it just slipped out,” Erend said with a snicker.

With renewed vigor, Albert continued, “Company says we’re setting off soon though, to the trading city Arkanno. They said I’ll probably get to meet a few Hillsmen, maybe even someone from the federation!”

“See Erend, that’s the kind of adventure we’ll be missing if we walk in our fathers’ footsteps. Imagine seeing demonfolk with your very own eyes,” Charles said and turned to Albert before he continued. “It really does sound fantastic man, congrats.”

“Thanks! Though nothing’s set in stone yet,” Albert answered with an annoyingly large smile plastered on his face. “I take it you’re both a little nervous then?”

“Not nervous, just a little uncertain,” Erend added.

“Aw, look at you, trying to put on a brave face for Uncle Albert. Very cute.”

“Asshole.”

“We talked about it this morning. I’m not sure I’ll stay sane if I live out the rest of my days in Exodus. I want to experience the world, the multitude of planes. I’d like to see what my limits are, you know?” Charles elaborated.

Albert nodded along with a sagelike expression. “Wise words from one as young as you.”

Both Erend and Charles rolled their eyes with a collective sigh.

“But you could travel the world even as a baker, or a smith. And you could push your limits with a profession like that as well. No shame in that. When push comes to shove, it all comes down to your personality. I mean, I’ve never been a creative, and studying source never interested me, so becoming a warrior– nay guard, just made sense. It’s quite simple, honestly.”

With a stunned expression, Charles muttered to himself, “Did he become smarter by swinging the axe around? No, it makes no sense…”

“I heard that,” Albert spat and shot Charles a mean look.

“Annoyingly simple, yet uncharacteristically wise,” Erend added as he nodded along to Charles muttering.

That’s probably why Dad didn’t support my becoming a smith. Maybe he doesn’t think it will suit me in the long run.

“Anyway, this is me,” Albert said and pointed toward the harbor, “See you guys around. Come by whenever. Absolutely make sure to come after you’ve awakened, then we’ll spar for a bit.”

Albert walked off with a wave and his signature toothy grin as Erend and Charles said their goodbyes to him. They walked in silence for a bit until Erend broke the silence.

“What do you think?”

“About?”

“What Albert said.”

“Makes sense to me. Made me a bit more sure of what I want. I’ve never been much of a baker, and craftsman work never really resonated with me.”

“So, a warrior then?”

“Yeah, I guess so. And you?”

“Not sure. I spoke with Dad about working with him as a smith, he didn’t necessarily disagree with it, but he didn’t readily agree either. Makes me feel he might not think I’m cut out for it.”

“For what it’s worth I think you’d be a kick-ass smith,” Charles added and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder. “But an even more kick-ass warrior, or something cool. Like a wizard.”

“Ha, thanks,” Erend said with a laugh, “I’ll have to think a bit more about it.”

The miscolored pretzel sign revealed itself as they turned a corner.

“Alright, see you tomorrow!” Charles said as he skipped up the stone steps to the bakery.

“Yup, see ya!”

Erend walked the rest of the way home lost in thought.

I think seeing the world would be amazing. But the thought of leaving my family behind so soon after mom left... Ah, no point in brooding, Erend thought, and instead started thinking about his dream.

Since I’m shit with a sword maybe something crude would be easier to use. Albert uses an axe, surely that can’t be too hard if he’s able to use it. I mean he’s a great guy, but far from a genius. A spear is safer though, doesn’t force you into close quarters, and leaves you with more room for error…

Erend arrived home and had dinner with his father and Elle. They spoke for a bit about their days until the sun started to set.

After some time, Thomas helped Elle get to bed and then returned to the kitchen. As he sat down, Erend decided to ease the weight that had been weighing on his mind.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask…” Erend started, interweaving his fingers. “Do you think I’m not cut out to be a smith?”

Thomas cleared his throat and regarded his son, he looked to be taking this seriously, his forehead creased like it always did when he thought about something, “Sort of. Adventure is in your blood. I believe the life of a smith would make you feel boxed in, given enough years. You take after your mother in that way. She always longed for adventure, even after settling down.”

Erend felt a little betrayed by his father, but he wasn’t shocked by the answer, it resonated with what he had felt deep down, “I... I think I get what you’re saying. I’ve felt the longing before, but the thought of leaving you and Elle… I don’t know.”

Thomas put his hand on Erends, “We’ll be alright. I’ll support you no matter what.”

Erend felt warm inside. His father truly was a great parent. Feeling bolstered by the moment he decided to ask, “Since I’ll be grown soon and all. Will you tell me about Mom? It feels like you always just dodge the question and I just… I feel like I need to know.”

Thomas clenched the hand he held atop Erend’s, “Erend…” he sighed, then relaxed his grip. “You’re right. I’ve been selfish.”

Erend was shocked by his father’s willingness to speak of her. He hurriedly shook his head, “No… it’s alright.”

“Tell me. What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Why did she leave?”

“I don’t know more than you about that. But I do trust she had her reasons. She would never abandon you and Elle, not without a damn good reason. You’re her everything.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“I’m sorry, son. If I knew that we’d be heading there already.”

“Did she tell you anything?”

“No. But she had been a bit… hard to approach in the days before she left. I just figured it was something from her past that bugged her. In hindsight I should have asked her about it. Sorry.”

“No, that’s alright. I didn’t even notice she was off,” Erend said listfully.

“She was good at hiding her emotions. She was good at hiding a lot of things…”

“Can you tell me about where she came from?”

Thomas wrinkled his brow at that, “I’m afraid that will have to wait. I think it’s time for bed if we want to function tomorrow.”

“Oh… Okay. Thanks for telling me. I thought you’d just dodge the topic as usual,” Erend said with a smile.

“Hurtful, but I understand. I promise you, we’ll speak more of it after your awakening. Sort your mind out till then.”

“Can’t I just ask one more?”

Thomas chuckled, “No, you’ll have to wait. That’s the deal,” he held out his hand. Erend shook it. His hand was rough and calloused, but warm.

That night, Erend went to bed with a smile on his face and a weight off his shoulders. He stayed up for a bit, organizing his thoughts and prioritizing the list of questions he wanted to ask. Obviously, he wanted to know what Thomas knew of Therese’s disappearance, but he also wondered what she’d done before she became a mother. Honestly, just the thought of talking about her felt great.

With happy thoughts, Erend drifted off to sleep and found himself in a familiar dream.

***

The booming sound of hoofs storming across the muddied plains made Erend aware of his dire situation. Cavalry was charging toward him, and the army around him, with a frightening speed. This time, however, he wasn’t as surprised as previously.

He looked around, taking in the all too familiar scenes around him. He could hear the mutterings of a soldier, in disbelief of their situation, he could feel the disconcertingly familiar smell of urine. He gave the ground a few stomps, the soggy ground gave way under his boots.

He took hold of the straps fastening his breastplate and gave them a good tug to make sure they were secure and tightened to his liking – they were.

Erend caught a glimpse of the captain who cursed something under his breath as he regarded Erend. He watched as the man pulled out the beautiful sword, slowly pointing it toward the charging enemy, and screamed, “PIKES AT THE READY!”

Without missing a beat Erend mimicked the movements of the other soldiers.

I need to find a spear. The pike is way too clumsy to work as one.

The approaching cacophony of hooves and thunder grew ever closer as Erend caught sight of what he was looking for. It wasn’t hard, considering that each and every one of the charging cavalry soldiers pointed a spear at him.

A barked order broke his concentration, “Brace!”