Agnes and Frey were sitting on the red tiles of a roof, looking over the tall outer walls of Aventia, gazing at the departing sun on the horizon, watching the dazzling yellow grow into a beautiful orange, as it was starting to vanish.

He was wearing a genuine smile, as well as a warm feeling inside of his chest, one that he hadn’t felt in a long while now.

“Thank you…” Frey whispered, he felt too embarrassed to say it out loud.

“What was that?” she teased, a warm smile beaming right at him.

His heart began beating faster, his face flushed red.

“Thank you, Agnes.” he repeated himself, speaking louder, but facing away from her.

“Don’t thank me. I’ll gladly cheer you up whenever you feel down. I know how it feels when something is heavily weighing you down, enough to make you want to run away.”

Frey’s head turned around again, looking back at her.

“You do? Aren’t you really powerful? What could make you feel like that?” he expressed his genuine curiosity; he held her in high esteem.

Agnes faced the dimming sun in the distance, her smile getting smaller as she delved into her memories.

“I was born the youngest daughter of three children. My mother gave birth to my two older brothers and me, before passing away from sickness.”

“My father, although sad, and holding every right to take his anger out on me, showered me with kindness ever since I could remember.”

“We lived in a cold environment, my father and brothers worked hard every day to hunt for food, while I gathered wood to keep our house’s fire burning.”

“Our village was very supportive, helping another to survive the harsh frost-waves that arrived almost every month.”

“I made several friends, and my father kept on telling me just how much I resembled my mother. How kind and pretty I was.”

“Fast forward several years, and it’s my twelfth birthday. I was wearing the beautiful dress my father had bought some days ago, he, my brothers, and many people from within the village came to celebrate.”

“It was a joyous day… until two strangers appeared at the party. My father welcomed them warmly, I thought that they were distant family at first, but the man introduced himself as my father-in-law, and the boy next to him as my soon-to-be husband.”

“I was just as confused at the revelation as you are now.”

“Until that day I was unaware of either of those two’s existence.”

“I looked to my father, and he just smiled at me.”

“Later that day I confronted him about it, I was upset. We argued all night, at some point my brothers joined in, but they sided with my father.”

“I later found out that the man and the boy were rather influential, able to give my family an out to the hellish snow.”

“In my frustration and anger, I ran away. I was young and frail, my legs couldn’t carry me far before several groups of people caught up with me.”

“They had searched for me desperately. Not just my father and brothers, but the other villagers as well. They were trying to curry favour with that pair of father and son.”

“In my bewilderment I did not realise where I had run to, the snow covered my vision, and only through the shouts and warnings of those that came for me did I notice the ice beneath my feet.”

“I had run atop a frozen lake, the one we were supposed to avoid, as there had been unfortunate incidents in the past.”

“My pursuers inched closer; my mind went into overdrive. I did not want to marry that boy, I did not want my family to hate me for declining the marriage, but getting both was impossible.”

“The next moments were a blur; my memories are strange… I don’t entirely remember how I did it, but I could feel a sense of control, control of my surroundings. It eased my mind, but not to a point where I regained my sanity.”

“I waved my hands, and the ice below my family’s and fellow villager’s feet cracked and gave way.”

“The sound of screams for help, and the gurgling of water haunt my dreams to this day.”

“I only remember that I continued running. I was in a trance, created by my own mind to avoid realising that I had murdered everyone.”

“I ran and ran… until the cold seeped into my very bones. I had no food nor water, after some time my body gave in, and I could no longer move.”

“It would have been a peaceful death, the cold numbed all of my senses, I wouldn’t even have noticed.”

“But within my vision appeared what I believed to be an angel, sent by the gods to retrieve me.”

“The angel had the form of a young man, somewhere around twenty years old, brown hair.”

“I chuckled; the gods had sent such a pretty angel to get me… after that I passed out.”

“When I awoke, I wondered whether I was alive or dead, I felt so comfortable within the soft bed, a warm and cozy hut. I still remember the sound of the fireplace at the other end of the room.”

“I was so very calm, until the angel entered the hut.”

“He was holding a beverage out of which steam rose. Once he saw that I was awake, he slowly approached me with it and smiled.”

“The calmness within me was nowhere to be seen. My heart raced, and I am pretty sure that my face was as red as a cherry.”

“As I am sure you already guessed: that angel was Lord Cykrus.”

“I swore my unwavering loyalty to him and have served by his side ever since.”

Agnes concluded her story, leaving Frey at a loss for words.

He wasn’t sure whether he should feel sad at her traumatic experience, or whether he should be happy that they were a lot more similar than he expected.

“It’s quite ironic though, I grew up in an icy environment, and that turned out to be my element as a mage…” she scoffed.

Frey’s thoughts churned for a while, before he managed to find the right words to express himself.

“I spent a lot of time in nature, among flowers and the dirt. My elements also ended up similarly…” he said.

Agnes was taken aback; her eyes went wide as she suddenly understood something.

“Wait… if the environment shapes a mage’s foundation… could it be…?” she stood up in a hurry.

“Wha-” Frey’s sight followed her.

“I feel like I just had an epiphany! I need some time alone, thank you Frey!” she spoke quickly, and ran off just a second later.

Frey watched her disappear, his mouth wide open, completely stupefied.

Epiphany?

If only he too could have such a thing.

Perhaps then he would make some progress on unveiling the runes.

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He stood up himself and was about to leave the roof through the way they came up, but he saw several groups of guards marching towards the gates of Aventia.

They were on horseback, surrounding a carriage that appeared to be filled with rations.

Frey was unaware of the search for Hodwan, he was curious, but the only person he felt comfortable enough to ask rushed off several minutes ago.

He gave up on trying to guess what was happening, and instead headed back to the palace.

On the way he felt like he was being watched, quick glances into his surroundings came up empty, everything appeared normal, so he just tried to blend into the crowd.

He decided to rush back, the guard watching over the gate to the palace luckily recognized Aventia’s newest mage, Cykrus Aventia’s disciple, and allowed him inside.

Only then did Frey manage to breathe a little easier.

He headed inside and down to the entrance of the treasury, only to see that it was locked.

Agnes was nowhere to be seen either.

He scratched his head, unsure what to do.

How long would her epiphany last?

Frey gave up for today and went to take a bath instead of dedicating the rest of this day to rune-study.

Agnes still hadn’t returned on the following day, and without her protecting the treasury, Lord Cykrus did not intend to open it.

Frey felt rather troubled, he was happy for Agnes, even though he did not understand what her epiphany would result in, but the longer this went on, the more time he lost.

He decided to look for her and ask.

As he was wandering through the halls of the palace, he realised, that he had no idea who resided where.

He passed by the maids and butlers of the palace often enough, but he just couldn’t gather the necessary courage to approach them and start a conversation.

Frey glanced around a corner, merely his head standing out, his sight set on the young butler that had helped him wash and get clothed when he first came to this new home of his.

The butler was in the middle of moving a bunch of furniture, too preoccupied to notice the little spy on his tail.

“Target in sight.” someone spoke, but it wasn’t Frey.

Frey nearly passed out from the shock, his heart skipping several beats as he turned around to face the speaker.

It was Lena, the palace’s head-maid, with a playful smile on her face.

“What are you doing, sneaking through the palace?” she asked sarcastically, but not in a mean manner.

Frey was caught completely off guard; she had approached him like a stealthy ninja.

“I- uhm, don’t know where to find Agnes.” he remembered that the two were rather close.

“Agnes, hm? I do know where she is, in her room… but she rushed past me yesterday, telling me that no one is to disturb her until she comes out herself.”

“She wore a wide smile; do you know what happened?” Lena tilted her head as she asked.

Frey considered his answer for a moment but ended up shaking his head.

“I am not sure.” he answered her.

“Whatever it is, I don’t think she will be out any time soon. Is there anything in particular you need from her? Can I help perhaps?” Lena offered.

“Without her I can’t continue on the runes in the basement.” Frey said.

Both Agnes and Lord Cykrus seemed to trust Lena, so telling her about the rune-study was probably fine.

“Runes? Oh, something about magic, right? Yeah, I definitely can’t help with that.” Lena chuckled.

“So you can’t continue with that magic thingy? Why don’t you fill that open timeslot with something else then?” she suggested.

“Huh… like, reading books?” Frey asked for clarification, he hadn’t even thought about that possibility.

“You could. Or you could do something good for your body and exercise.”

“Exercise?”

“Yes, exercise… don’t tell me you have never done that?” she said, but as she looked over the scrawny looking Frey again, she deduced the answer herself.

“I am not particularly sporty myself, but I do know a few things. Do you want to try?”

“Yes!” he answered enthusiastically.

… …

Four days passed, and not a peep from Agnes.

In the meantime, Frey got introduced to sit-ups, as well as push-ups.

Lena showed him the ropes, albeit that she herself wasn’t all that knowledgeable when it came to workouts.

Besides those two exercises, she also instructed him to run laps around the palace itself, to improve his stamina.

The strenuous activity managed to get his mind off of the runes for a while, but at the end of each day they returned.

Before he went to sleep, he held the hope that Agnes would show up again.

He enjoyed exercising, it was another task he could do alone, but his anxiety grew stronger with each day he was kept from the runes.

The depressing feeling of failing to understand a single thing had already escaped his mind, it was just waiting to remind him.

Every morning he would visit the basement, in hopes of finding her, as well as the open gate to the treasury, but he was disappointed each time.

Only on the fifth day were his prayers finally heard; Agnes was already waiting for him.

Frey’s mood improved immediately; he ran up to her to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Agnes, you are back?”

“I am. Thinking my theory through took a little longer than I had expected.”

“Did anything change?”

“It’s hard to put into words, but I feel like I shortened the distance between myself and rank three.”

Frey couldn’t believe his ears… rank three!

Something that both Agnes and Lord Cykrus were desperately working towards.

They did not shirk on their praise for the power of rank three mages, thus only fuelling the fire that burned within Frey’s imagination.

“What were you up to these last few days? Still the same old?” she asked.

“No, the treasury didn’t open without you here. Lena taught me some training methods in the meantime.”

“Training methods? Like, physical training?”

“Mhm.” Frey nodded his head.

“That’s good. Stamina is also something that can influence a battle between mages. Anyways, I don’t want to keep you from your studying. Do your best as always.” She then sent him off.

He headed inside, eager to continue.

Agnes was seemingly closing in on rank three, he could not afford to be left behind.

… …

Several weeks passed by in a flash, then weeks turned into months.

One month, two months, three months, and still no progress on Frey’s end.

Failure upon failure was tearing him apart on the inside, with the deadline drawing closer.

He tried to balance his days between study and exercise, to get his mind off of those negative thoughts at least for several hours per day, but the only permanent solution to this was success.

Agnes did her best to distract or cheer him up, but he was growing numb to those positive feelings she was trying to convey.

As he was heading into the treasury one morning, Agnes was debating how she could help the poor boy without destroying his future chances in the arcane.

This wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, but something that had been weighing on her mind for a good while.

She had to watch him grow more silent and dejected with each passing day, after all.

“Frey, when you think of the element earth, what comes to your mind?” she asked him.

He had already passed her but stopped and turned around in response to her question.

“Earth? Earth is what we walk on… it is the foundation beneath houses; used for construction. Earth can be hard, but it can also be soft. Earth can cover huge areas, or just tiny spots. Earth can be fertile, allowing crops and flowers to bloom.” Frey pondered for a moment but managed to summarise his view of the element.

“That’s good already, but perhaps there are perspectives you have yet to consider earth from.” Agnes tried to offer some suggestions, she had no accomplishments in regard to the element earth, but she couldn’t watch Frey any longer without saying anything.

“Other perspectives…?” he mumbled to himself, then thanked her for her valuable advice and insight before continuing.

… …

Even more time passed, and without knowing, Frey had turned ten years old.

However, unlike his age, nothing had changed about his circumstances.

He slowly felt like he was going insane.

In the meantime, the search for Hodwan had started to show results.

Though big parts of Aventia’s lands were covered in forests or mountains, the guards had scoured for any traces of him for the last year, some eyewitnesses had claimed to have seen a man that resembled the description; whether they simply wanted the money given to them as a reward for the information, or their words were truthful, had yet to be ascertained.

Cykrus was gazing out a window on the second floor of the palace, below him was the garden, filled with beautiful flowers, and a lone boy sitting among them.

He had kept silent, even when Frey exceeded the time-limit Cykrus had expected of him.

He had kept silent, even though Frey had yet to show the slightest progress in regard to the deciphering of the runes.

However, his patience was running dry, if Frey didn’t get enough time to get accustomed to casting spells, he was bound to be a contender for the last place within the competition.

Cykrus turned around, then walked away from the window with an audible sigh.

Frey had his eyes closed while sitting on the bare ground, he looked like he was meditating, but at the next moment his eyes shot open.

As he got up, he gripped a bunch of flowers in his hands and ripped them out of the ground.

He trampled on them, ruining the beauty of garden.

He began tearing down his surroundings; the even ground beneath him wrecked and tossed everywhere.

The tiles that made up the path through the garden flew several meters before hitting the ground again.

By the time Frey was done, his breathing was haggard, the exhaustion could be seen in his face.

Dirt covered most of his body, as well as the underside of his nails, which he had used to dig out both rocks and flowers.

His beautiful clothes, and more importantly, the garden, were ruined.

Before anyone managed to see the scene or stop him from leaving, he already went back down to the basement.

Agnes shot him a curious stare due to his strange appearance, but seeing that he didn’t say anything, neither did she.

Frey disappeared inside of the small room holding the inheritance tome, and before long a furious Cykrus appeared before Agnes, well on his way into the treasury, as a cold breeze reminded him of the presence of the ice mage.

“What?! I need to talk to Frey, now!” his cool demeanour nowhere to be seen.

“Did you already forget? You tasked me with guarding the entrance… so that no one can interrupt him while he is in the midst of understanding a rune.” Agnes retorted, not about to ignore her orders.

“You…! Argh… You know that he hasn’t made any progress in the last year! What could he possibly be understanding right now? Once he gets out, I’ll teach him some spells, so what if he gets stuck at rank one for the rest of his live?! At least he won’t be useless then!” Cykrus attempted to vent some of his anger through shouting.

“What did he even do for you to be so agitated?”

“He rampaged through the garden, all those exotic flowers, gifts, my ancestors received years ago, completely and utterly decimated! And why? Because he needed to let out some steam from all of his accumulated failures! That’s why!” Lord Cykrus continued.

“Still, I won’t let you through.” Agnes remained firm on her stance.

Cykrus breathed in and out, trying to calm down.

He nodded at Agnes, then left the basement with loud stomps.

It was only a matter of time before Frey finished his study today, at which point he could reprimand him, but unlike his expectations, Frey did not leave the treasury.