Two silhouettes were trotting on a wide empty grassland, the sun stood high, fiercely striking down on the unfortunate souls that had no trees to rest beneath, entirely exposed to the sunrays and hot wind.
A young woman, accompanied by an even younger boy were walking slowly, the boy nearly frothing from his mouth, he made no attempts to hide his exhaustion.
It was Agnes and Frey, who had no luck in their search for a horse, all of them were either impaled by the town’s guards or ran off in fear during the battle between the mages.
Agnes on the other hand looked like she was doing fine, she was carrying a sizeable bag, which hung over her shoulder, it was filled with rations the town’s residents would no longer need.
She was munching on a slice of sweet bread when Frey could endure no longer and turned over to her with a pleading gaze.
“Can’t you use magic to fly us to this place…?” he said as he wiped some sweat off his forehead.
“Mhm, no can do. Magic isn’t omnipotent, you know?” Agnes answered while facing forwards.
“I mean, it is… but… not really? Argh, I am no scholar!” she said while shaking her head, not sweating over the ‘minor’ details, Frey however looked at her with much worry… this was his magic teacher after all.
Agnes seemed to sense his gaze and thoughts as she faced him with a half-smile “I said I would teach you the basics, never did I claim to be good at explaining them.” she shrugged.
“Anyways, you can see them, can’t you? The light particles, I mean.” Agnes changed the topic, starting with her actual first lesson.
Frey affirmed her question with an overly enthusiastic nodding.
“What you are seeing is the natural mana within the air and on the ground. Take these for example…” she showcased her own control over a scarce amount of blue and icy white.
“Mages have affinities towards certain elements, they are especially adept at wielding them, whereas those elements outside of a mage’s jurisdiction mostly act unruly in regard to any attempt of using them.”
A rather short and small ice needle formed in front of Frey’s eyes as he paid close attention.
“If you are observant, you would notice that the amount of ice-related mana in our surroundings is rather limited… this is due to the intense heat, cancelling out most of them. However, during the night this situation would be turned on its head. Colder days are also beneficial to someone like me.” Agnes openly revealed one of her weaknesses.
Frey was no threat to her, even with the reduced amount of mana at her disposal, she was very sure of that fact, mostly due to her high opinion of herself.
“What about that fight yesterday? Are there usually that many red particles?” Frey quickly asked as she took a moment to breath, before she could continue flooding his ears.
“That? No, that wasn’t natural… That man, you called him Hodwan, he is a lot different from normal mages.”
“Physical mages are a rare variation, however due to their unique approach they are usually stronger than their peers of the same rank, they are especially threatening in close combat, which is why I made sure to keep my distance from him.”
“But the most important thing about him were the runes engraved onto his body, into his skin.”
Agnes appeared to be finished with her speech, nodding her head with satisfaction at her own explanation.
“Ranks? Runes? What are those?” Frey asked once he noticed that she wouldn’t continue talking on her own.
She sighed in response, rolling her eyes in annoyance.
“You are lucky that there isn’t anything else to do besides walking and talking, cause all your questions are slowly starting to bother me.” Agnes said flippantly.
“We mages are split into several ranks, each rank expressing roughly what we are capable of. You are a newly awakened rank one mage, meaning that you are able to see the mana around us, as well as using the elements to cast spells.”
“I on the other hand am a rank two mage, which means that I am able to control the natural mana to some degree, using them to make stronger spells and the like.”
“Then what stops us from making a flying spel-” Frey attempted to ask his previous question once more, however Agnes quickly shushed him out.
“Don’t interrupt.” she said as she held up her index finger in front of her mouth.
“Where was I? Oh, right… although we are inherently able to use the mana to turn it into spells, creating completely new spells is something even beyond me! So unless you chance upon some kind of inheritance from the same element you are using, you can give up on such wishful thinking.”
“At least until you reach rank three… once rank three, one is able to create spells from scratch… or is one considered rank three because they created a spell? I don’t remember, it’s definitely one of the two though.” Agnes said and once again shrugged her shoulders.
“I am able to cast spells, but unable to create them, is that right? If so, how do I learn them in the first place?” Frey asked after processing all the information he just got.
“That’s right… Like I said, you are either lucky to find an inheritance, or otherwise meet someone that imparts their techniques with you, however both of those are rarities, because the former are well-hidden throughout the world, while the latter is considered a mage’s personal secret, which they rarely give out, only to those they trust.” Agnes explained, while Frey fell into thought for several minutes.
“Then how did the very first mages learn to cast spells? Since there was no one to teach them…” Frey became rather curious about the history of magic.
“How would I know? That was hundreds if not thousands of years ago… Do I look that old to you?!” Agnes looked at him with a hint of scorn.
“N- No, but aren’t there any records of history?” Frey rushed to change the topic as he waved his arms around.
“Well, there are some records of a handful of geniuses, even in our time, who created their own spells even before reaching rank two. I guess that would make them a semi-rank three?” she pondered.
“Is rank three the highest we can reach?” Frey continued bombarding her with questions.
“Of course not, but anything beyond that is practically in the realm of legends for people like us. You’ll probably never meet someone beyond rank three, so keep your focus on learning to cast your first spell for now.” Agnes waved Frey off.
‘Legends’, that word caught Frey off guard, causing him to go silent as several memories surfaced from within him.
He had read tons of books, many he believed to be nothing more than fiction.
There were those that portrayed people with superhuman strengths, fighting and coming out on top against hordes of enemies, all on their own.
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Those that unleashed storms upon their mortal enemies after their patience and kindness dwindled.
But also, stories of humans battling with creatures beyond their own capabilities, dragons, demons, and other monsters that would haunt children’s nightmares.
Frey looked at all of these books from a new point of view, these stories could likely be true, actual historic events.
Magic was a force of unknown magnitude; it held deep secrets and even more mysteries that one couldn’t help but desire to unravel.
Frey was no exception to this desire, he had been lucky enough to enter this world of the arcane, offering him vast amounts of opportunities.
As he delved in his memories, two sights resurfaced in his mind, painting pictures of fresh scenes, the two victims of Hodwan, which Frey was unlucky enough to observe in person.
Magic was the perfect tool for revenge, but Hodwan wasn’t just some nobody either, this became apparent from his intense fight with Agnes.
If Frey wanted to avenge the people he cared about, and felt he needed to ask forgiveness from, he needed to become stronger… so much stronger.
“How do I cast my first spell?” he asked with eyes that beamed newfound purpose.
“I like your enthusiasm, but before you can cast a spell, we should find out what element suits you the most…” Agnes trailed off as she saw Frey demonstrating how he touched the different particles around him during her and Hodwan’s fight.
“Red, yellow and blue get pushed the farthest. Green and brown barely move at all. The others are in between.” Frey noted his current and previous observations.
Agnes just stared at Frey, her eyes blinking slowly as a light smile creeped on her face.
‘The boy has potential.’ she thought to herself but suppressed both this thought and her smile just as quickly.
“This should mean that you can forget about fire and water, as well as diverging paths of magic that originated from those two. Earth and nature, huh? Not exactly unique, but definitely rare.” Agnes informed him of his most likely future paths.
“Why is that? Why are they rare, I mean?” he got hopeful over learning a powerful type of magic.
“Because those two are known for their weak offensive power, especially nature, which is mostly suited for supporting others.” Agnes explained.
The light in Frey’s eyes dimmed a little, but her next sentence improved his mood again.
“But earth has its fair share of uses, there are various famed people dabbling in it, like my-… our Lord, Lord Cykrus. He is a rank two physical mage; his earthen armour hailed throughout the lands.” she said with a glimmer of admiration.
“He is also the one who can teach you your first spell, as there are several inheritances within the royal treasury. Along with his own affinity for earth magic.” Agnes continued.
“Wow… then what about runes?” Frey began to look forward to his meeting with this Lord, but then he wanted to circle back to his question from earlier, which Agnes had glossed over.
“Hm? What about them?” she retorted in a manner that made it seem like she really didn’t know what Frey was talking about.
“Earlier you said they were part of the reason why Hodwan isn’t normal.” Frey attempted to remind her.
“Oh, did I say that?” she tilted her head and squinted her eyes.
“…You did…” Frey was starting to give up any kind of expectations he held towards her.
“It’s nothing special, really! It just requires incredible precision… I could do it too, if I just put a little effort into trying.” she said as she proudly puffed out her chest.
Afterwards she met Frey’s gaze and realised that he wasn’t satisfied with her answer just yet, she rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.
“Runes are patterns woven with a user’s element… to put it into simple terms: they are stored spells, which anyone can activate, not just mages. The runes power themselves by eating away at their host’s lifeforce. Making them use the surrounding mana instead would be a lot more beneficial, but so far no one has managed to design a rune like that.”
“The design of runes does not just take an immense amount of effort and time, but the creation of the rune itself also involves precise control over the chosen element… not to mention elemental combinations, whose creation are a once in a millennia phenomenon.”
“Very few people can claim to produce runes, and even less are capable of creating stable runes.”
Agnes herself got engrossed in her explanation, however a hint of jealousy revealed itself throughout her speech.
“What does ‘stable’ refer to?” Frey inquired.
“’Stable’ refers to how likely someone can survive the usage of a rune… take this Hodwan for example. He managed to put up a good fight, for a rather extensive amount of time as well… In the end he sacrificed one of his arms for the activation of another rune. If the runes on his body weren’t as stable as that, then he most likely would have died the moment he first activated any of his runes.”
“They would have drained his lifeforce in the blink of an eye, or burst him into smithereens from the self-destruction of a failed rune design… Now that I think about it, how did a no name bandit get a hold of such high-quality runes… his horse too…”
Agnes fell into thought, her pace slowing slightly, allowing Frey to finally catch a breather from all the walking.
“Huh? What’s that?” she mumbled to herself as her eyes regained their focus, looking off into the distant horizon.
Frey became curious and swiftly followed the direction of her gaze with his own, noticing what appeared to be a cloud of dust that was rising into the sky.
His heart skipped a beat, reminding him of the scenes that led up to the slaughter of the town they had just left behind.
Agnes raised her hand to block the incoming sunlight, to get a better grasp of the situation, then small amounts of ice gathered at her side in preparation to fight.
She stepped in front of Frey as the sound of galloping drew close, sending shivers down Frey’s spine, his breathing growing rougher, and his knees weaker.
The source of the dust cloud closed in on the two travellers, a banner of white and golden-red entered Agnes vision, then she breathed a sigh of relief, however instead of dispelling her magic she hid it behind her back.
Frey did not even notice her actions, completely absorbed in his own memories, and quickly declining mental state.
Seven riders appeared before Agnes and Frey, all of them wearing a similar attire, with the same colour scheme as their banner.
There were both men and women, six of which were armed with a sword at their waist, while the remaining man firmly held onto what appeared to be a ceremonial staff, made with shining golden materials.
He rode at the centre of their formation, his position clearly higher than the others’ around him.
“Whoa! Whoa!” he said in an attempt to lower the speed of the horses, to make them stop.
Their formation quickly changed, instead forming a semi-circle around Agnes and Frey.
“That white hair… that powerful aura… those warm clothes… and that impatient frown… To think we would meet out here, Lady Agnes!” the man smiled brightly, his eyes completely closed.
He looked to be in his thirties, he had a stubbly beard, his last shaving session most likely a day or two ago.
His cheeks had a rosy-pink tone, his blond hair mostly hidden beneath a long hat with fancy engravings.
“Priest Simerlin, what an… honour…” Agnes had mixed feelings in regard to this man’s appearance, and it certainly showed on her face.
“You look troubled, and you are travelling on foot to boot! Haha, forgive me, what better than a pun to lighten the mood, no?” the priest chuckled to himself, not at all bothered by Agnes’ behaviour towards him.
His eyes finally opened again, gleaming the figure of a young boy behind the partner of his conversation.
“Oh? And who might that be?” Priest Simerlin asked as he mentally noted Frey’s features, the black hair, his rough age, and his haggard condition…
“Is he in need of help?” the man followed up with another question before Agnes could even answer the first.
“This is my… apprentice.” she spoke this half-truth, guessing at the hidden meaning behind the priest’s question.
As Frey heard this his attention jolted back to reality, focusing on the sight and conversation in front of him.
“And no, we don’t need your hel-“ Agnes meant to refuse his assistance, but before she managed to finish her sentence a warm light made of white-yellow particles surrounded Frey.
He could feel a pleasant warmth envelop his body, a stark contrast to the intense heat of Hodwan’s spell, or the sun on this day.
His eyes showed him that the particles were floating around him with no particular rhyme or reason.
Agnes did not rush to interrupt as her gaze narrowed on the priest who had forgone her words.
Priest Simerlin’s eyes were closed, both hands held onto the staff as it too was enveloped in the same light as Frey.
His lips moved, but no words came out; a silent chant, or something of the sorts.
After some time, his eyes opened, and the spell stopped, a warm smile replacing his expression.
“There you go.” he went back to smiling at Agnes.
“What brings you here?” Agnes threw out a question of her own, but the priest shook his head in turn.
“I asked my question first Lady Agnes…” the man retorted, but after several seconds of silence, and observing Agnes’ indifferent expression, he sighed.
“The church’s branch in Aventia received a letter with terrifying contents several days ago…” he spoke after relenting, trying to incite a reaction in Agnes, or Frey, however the former remained unmoved, while the latter hid his face behind Agnes.
“I see, well, the church’s business isn’t mine… so…” she tried to weasel her way out of this topic, but Priest Simerlin wasn’t as stupid as she had hoped.
“I do believe it is your business… we are still part of the land you are protecting after all. Allow me to extend a hand towards you and Lord Cykrus, since you appear to be in need of one: answer me one question truthfully, and we will escort you back to the capital… on horseback.” he offered, still smiling like an angel.
Agnes’ face became unsightly as she heard his words.
She did want to have one of those horses, her mind was deciding whether she should just rob them, but luckily her rational mind won the battle, and she instead opened her mouth to answer the priest, her ice magic dispelled through a single thought of hers.
“Fine.”