“Courage isn't having no fear courage is having fear and choosing to face it”
-A quote from a certain sage.
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The forest had thinned out since their encounter with the wolf and the larger creature Billy had effortlessly killed. Andros had spent the past hour walking in silence, his mind racing with questions and frustrations. Billy’s power seemed almost divine to Andros.
“I don’t know much about this world, but even those soldiers couldn’t do that,” Andros thought, “Don’t tell me I’m walking next to a god.”
Andros hesitated, then decided there was no point in holding back. “About what happened back there. That... thing you killed. You didn’t even break a sweat.”
Billy let out a short chuckle. “That’s because I’ve been doing this a long time, lad. Much longer than you could imagine. But I wasn’t always this powerful. I had to earn it.”
“How?” Andros asked, genuinely curious. “How did you get so strong?”
Billy sighed, his expression becoming more serious as they walked. “Time, experience, practice—lots of it. I had no talent, but I chose not to let that stop me. Magic is a force that exists in everyone here, but few ever come close to mastering it. Most stop at Journeymen, too afraid of breaking through. The key is control, understanding that magic isn’t just about power. It’s about merging yourself to your affinity. You’ve got potential, Andros. I can see that, but you’re impatient. You want results now.”
Andros bristled at the remark but knew Billy was right. “I just don’t want to die.”
Billy stopped walking, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked directly at Andros. “And you won’t, if you listen. Your encounter with that direwolf was a lesson. You won because you were able to keep your head, but you also lost control at times. It’s a balance you’ll need to find. Magic can make you powerful, but if you’re reckless, it’ll destroy you.”
Andros fell silent, absorbing Billy’s words. He knew his control was still shaky, but hearing it put so bluntly made him realize how dangerous his lack of mastery could be. The magic within him was still unfamiliar, and at times, it felt like he was just along for the ride, rather than steering the course.
They continued walking, the trees thinning even further as they neared the outskirts of the forest. The terrain was changing, shifting from dense woods to rolling hills with sparse clusters of trees. In the distance, Andros could see the faint outline of mountains, their jagged peaks rising like silent sentinels over the land.
Billy, ever aware of his surroundings, pointed toward the mountains. “Those are the Ashen Peaks. Velaryn sits at their feet, nestled in the valley. We’ll reach it by tomorrow, if we keep this pace.”
Andros nodded, though his thoughts were still elsewhere. The silence stretched between them once more, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, Andros found that Billy’s presence had a way of making the quiet seem natural. The old man’s confidence in navigating the world was reassuring, even if it was clear there was much more to him than he let on.
The sun crept over the horizon as Andros and Billy pressed onward through the narrowing path of the mountain pass. The towering peaks of the Ashen Range loomed ahead, casting long shadows across the land. The city of Velaryn was closer now, but the journey was beginning to feel more perilous by the hour.
They continued in silence for a while longer, the path gradually widening as they exited the narrow pass. Ahead, the landscape opened up into a sprawling valley, dotted with rolling hills and patches of dense forest. The road stretched before them, winding like a ribbon toward the distant city of Velaryn.
Andros hesitated as they reached the edge of the valley, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun had fully risen now, casting a warm glow over the landscape, but something about the sight of the open space ahead filled him with a sense of foreboding. The encounter with the cloaked figure had shaken him more than he wanted to admit, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that more dangers lay ahead.
“We’ll make camp soon,” Billy said, breaking Andros from his thoughts. “The city is close, but you’ll need to rest before we get there.”
Andros nodded absently, his mind still racing. The open valley offered little in terms of cover, and the idea of sleeping out in the open didn’t sit well with him. But he trusted Billy’s judgment. The old man had guided him this far, and despite the mysteries that surrounded him, Andros knew he was in safe hands. As they descended into the valley, the landscape gradually became more inviting. The trees were fewer and farther between, and the grassy fields were lush and vibrant, a stark contrast to the rocky, barren pass they had just traversed. The scent of earth and wildflowers filled the air, and for a moment, Andros allowed himself to relax. Billy led them toward a small grove of trees nestled near the base of a hill. It wasn’t much, but the trees provided enough cover to make Andros feel a bit more at ease. They set up camp quickly, with Billy starting a small fire as Andros unrolled their bedrolls.
“Tell me more about Velaryn,” Andros said after a while, breaking the quiet as he watched the fire crackle between them.
Billy’s eyes flickered in the firelight, and he leaned back against a tree, his staff resting beside him. “Velaryn is one of the last cities standing in this region,” he began. “A stronghold of sorts. It’s survived the rise and fall of many kingdoms, and it’s always been a place of refuge for those seeking safety.”
Andros nodded, but there was something in Billy’s tone that piqued his curiosity. “Why do you sound like you’ve been there before?”
Billy smiled faintly. “Because I have. Many times.”
“How long ago?”
Billy’s gaze shifted to the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. “Long enough that the city has changed several times since I first set foot in it. But the core of it remains the same. It’s a place where magic flows freely, and where those with talent gather to learn and grow.”
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Andros leaned forward, intrigued. “So it’s a city of mages?”
“Not entirely,” Billy corrected. “There are plenty of ordinary people there too—merchants, craftsmen, warriors. But Velaryn has always attracted those with magic. It’s a safe haven for those who wish to refine their abilities.”
Andros’s mind raced with the possibilities. A city filled with magic-users—people like him, who could teach him, help him grow. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe in Velaryn, he would finally find the answers he was looking for. But Billy’s next words dampened his excitement.
“Velaryn may be safe from outside threats,” Billy said, his voice low and serious. “But it’s not without its own dangers.”
Andros frowned. “What do you mean?”
Billy looked up from the fire, his expression unreadable. “Magic draws people with ambition, Andros. Power attracts those who seek to control it. Not everyone in Velaryn will have your best interests at heart.”
Andros sat back, his excitement fading. He had already experienced betrayal once—when he had been torn from his world and brought into this one. The idea that even in a city of mages, there could be people plotting for power left him uneasy.
“You will need to be careful lad,” Billy continued. “But you’ll learn a lot there. And if you keep your head, you’ll become much stronger.”
Andros nodded, though the weight of Billy’s words lingered in his mind. The road ahead was uncertain, and the more he learned about this world, the more complicated it seemed. He had come here by accident, but now he was caught in something much bigger than himself.
The fire crackled between them, Billy was staring at the burning wood, then the old man sported a mischievous grin on his face.
“I just got an idea for your next lesson,” Billy said, “Put that fire out.”
Andros, confused, started to throw dirt on the campfire.
“No,” Billy laughed, “Not with your hands boy, with your magic.”
“Oh,” Andros replied, embarrassment burning his face.
Andros took a deep breath and summoned a gust of wind that only succeeded in stoking the flame higher.
“It’s not strong enough,” Andros thought, “Need to add more power!”
Lost in concentration, Andros pushed more power into his wind, shaping into a rotating sphere around the blackened logs. Just as he was about to suffocate the last vestiges of sparks, Billy delivered a hard knock on his head. Distracted by the sudden pain on his forehead, Andros lost control of the magic, causing it to disperse harmlessly.
Before Andros could ask Billy his reasoning, he felt a sharp spike of pain in his chest as he doubled over, ironically gasping for breath.
“This feeling,” Andros thought, “It’s worse than what happened with the soldiers.”
“What’s happening?” Andros wheezed out.
Bill clicked his tongue, “You used too much power too fast. You might have been fine with your flames, but it’s clear your soul is still out of sync with your new body. You can only control so much at a time.”
“If that’s true, why did you ask me to put out the fire like that?”Andros argued, still unable to right himself.
“I didn’t,” Billy replied with a sigh of annoyance, “I was hoping you would be clever enough to realize you could use your power over heat to put out flames instead of creating them. But I guess not. If you take one thing away from our meeting, it’s to question everything.”
After a few minutes, the pain faded to a dull throb as his strength gradually returned. He then reached out to the campfire again, connecting to its warmth. It felt alive to him, he could feel its hunger. It wanted to grow and spread with no regard for anything in its h. After prodding it with his magic, he willed it to settle and the light died down. The effort took its toll as Andros felt exhaustion sweep over him as he decided to sleep.
“Good job, lad,” Billy thought,
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The next morning, they set out early, the city of Velaryn growing closer with each step. The landscape around them shifted once more, the rolling hills giving way to flatter terrain as they neared the city. Andros could feel the magic in the air, more concentrated now, like an invisible current flowing through the earth beneath their feet.
As they walked, Billy remained quiet, his gaze focused on the horizon.
Andros had questions, a thousand of them swirling in his mind, but he kept them to himself for now. Billy's sudden shift in mood left him uneasy. The lesson from the previous night had shown Andros the sharp edge of magic’s double nature—its raw power, and the price that came with wielding it carelessly.
They crested a final hill, and Andros felt a wave of both awe and apprehension as Velaryn finally came into full view.
The city was sprawling, larger than anything Andros had seen in this world so far. Its high walls glistened in the light, and towers speared the sky, some adorned with flags fluttering in the wind, others crackling with strange energies visible even from a distance. The spires seemed to pulse with power, flickering like the magic that Andros could feel humming through the air. The closer they got, the more intense it became, like a presence pressing down on him.
“This is it,” Andros whispered. “Velaryn.”
Billy stopped at the crest, looking out over the city. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his stance that Andros hadn’t seen before. The old man’s usual easygoing demeanor had been replaced with something more guarded, and Andros couldn’t shake the feeling that Billy knew more about what awaited them in the city than he was letting on.
“There’s a lot you’ll learn here,” Billy finally said, his voice low. “But remember what I told you last night. Power draws ambition, and ambition can breed danger. Don’t let your guard down, Andros. Not even for a second.”
Andros swallowed hard, the weight of Billy’s warning settling over him. “I won’t.”
They descended the hill, the path leading them toward the city gates. The closer they got, the more Andros could make out the details of Velaryn’s architecture. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, runes that glowed faintly in the daylight. There was an otherworldly beauty to the place, but also an underlying sense of something darker.
At the gates, the guards stood tall in gleaming armor, their expressions stern as they watched travelers approach.
Magic-users of all kinds passed through the gates—some cloaked in robes, others in simple garb with the faint shimmer of magic in their eyes. Merchants, travelers, and townsfolk moved in and out, the city teeming with life.
Billy led the way, exchanging a brief nod with one of the guards as he pressed a few coins into the guard’s palm as they passed through the gates. Inside the walls, the streets were alive with activity. Vendors shouted from market stalls, hawking everything from glowing trinkets to exotic foods.
“Where do we go from here?” Andros asked, looking around in awe. Andros kept close, his eyes darting from one strange sight to the next. He couldn’t help but feel out of place. This city was unlike anything he had ever known—both thrilling and overwhelming at the same time. Eventually, they reached a quieter part of the city, where the streets were narrower and the buildings less grand. Billy stopped in front of a small inn, its sign creaking softly in the breeze.
“This seems like a good spot. Time to part ways lad.” Billy said promptly. He reached into his robes and withdrew a pouch of jingling coins. “This should tide you over for a few days, after that it's up to you. I can’t babysit you forever.”
“I don’t understand, what am I supposed to do?”, Andros said, shocked, “I still have so much to learn.”
“Like I said, it’s up to you lad”, Billy responded, “Consider this your final test. You don’t like it, get stronger and find me”
And with that Billy turned around and walked down the street. Andros stood there for a few moments, unsure of what to do next. He tried to follow, but when he turned into an alley Billy had walked into, there was no trace of his temporary mentor. Defeated, Andros came back to the inn and asked for a meal and a room. After an hour and a bowl of warm stew. Andros sat on the bed, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His muscles ached from the long journey, but more than that, his mind buzzed with everything he had seen and heard, a sense of nervousness coiled in his gut. Andros lay back on his own bed, staring up at the ceiling. Outside, the sounds of the city filtered in through the window—the clatter of carts, the hum of voices, the distant crackle of magic. He had made it to Velaryn. But the real journey was just beginning and he wasn’t going to let this world break him.