“Pain is the fisherman’s net in the river of life.” -Quote from a certain sage after a few too many drinks.

The path stretched on, winding through the thick, shadowed forest as Andros and Billy continued their journey toward the closest safe city. The sound of leaves rustling overhead and the steady rhythm of their footsteps were the only breaks in the silence. Andros had grown used to the quiet, even if it left him alone with his thoughts—thoughts of the strange new world he had been thrust into, and of the magic coursing through his veins.

For a few days now, they had been walking a barely trodden road on the way to the city of Velaryn. A place Billy said was going to be safe for him, but Andros was still nervous about being around so many new people after everything that had happened. Thanks to Billy’s guidance, he was able to manifest a good sized flame on his own without the help of any fuel. He’d also learned how to control the wind and slightly increase the strength of the fire.

Billy walked ahead, his staff tapping against the earth with each step. Though his pace was casual, there was a weight to his movements, a confidence that made it clear he knew these lands well. Andros had already come to trust Billy’s knowledge, but there was a mystery about the old man that left him curious.

“Tell me about this world,” Andros said, breaking the silence. “We don’t have magic where I’m from, and to be honest, it still doesn’t feel real at all.”

Billy didn’t stop walking, but he glanced over his shoulder with a small, knowing smile. “You’re asking for a long tale, lad. I imagine the history of any world would be, but I’ll give you a little of the basics.”

He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “The world’s always been as it is. Magic isn’t something new here, and there’s been no great event or calamity that changed the way things work. It’s woven into the fabric of this place—like wind in the air or water in the rivers. People are born with it, some stronger than others. It’s always been that way.”

“So... it’s always just been a part of life,” Andros said, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “No sudden disasters or shifts?”

Billy shook his head. “None, at least none caused by magic itself. It’s as natural as breathing for those born here. The balance of power, though—that’s a different story.”

They walked in silence for a while longer, Billy seemingly deep in thought as they moved through the forest. Andros had so many questions, but he had learned to wait for Billy to offer answers in his own time. Finally, the old man spoke again.

“There are those who think of magic as something to be taken,” Billy said. “Conquered, used for power. And then there are those who understand that magic flows through the world like a river—it’s something you guide, not something you control outright. That’s what keeps the balance. And trust me, lad, if you upset that balance, you’ll pay a steep price.”

Andros nodded, thinking back to how easily his fire had nearly gotten out of control during his first lesson. He hadn’t realized how dangerous it could be—how much of a responsibility magic was.

“Cities have come and gone,” Billy continued, “kingdoms too. But the magic? That’s stayed the same. The world’s seen its share of war, and some places aren’t as safe as they used to be. But we’re heading toward one of the safer cities, where you’ll have time to learn more—about yourself, about magic.”

“Is that why we’re going there?” Andros asked. “To learn?”

Billy’s expression softened. “Partly. But you’ll need more than just a few lessons to survive here, lad. There are worse things than the dangers of the wilds.”

Andros was about to ask more when he sensed something—a change in the air. The forest, once alive with subtle sounds of nature, had grown eerily silent. The breeze had stilled, and a tension crept into the atmosphere. Billy stopped, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the woods.

“Hold,” Billy commanded, his voice low but commanding. “We’re not alone.”

Andros felt a chill run down his spine. He doubted he was prepared for whatever was coming. His magic, still new and wild, stirred beneath the surface, as if sensing the impending threat.

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A rustle in the bushes ahead drew their attention. Andros squinted into the shadows, and from the underbrush, a lone wolf emerged. Its fur was sleek and black with a body the size of a small horse, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Andros could feel the magic radiating from it, a raw, primal force that sent a shiver through his body.

“A direwolf,” Billy said, his tone calm but serious.

Andros froze, heart pounding in his chest. The wolf’s presence was overwhelming, like a heavy pressure in the air.

Billy stepped back, giving Andros a pointed look. “This is a good test for you. You’ve got fire, and you’ve got wind. Use them.”

“W-what?” Andros stammered, “You want me to fight that thing?”

Billy nodded. “You’re going to have to face creatures like this if you want to get stronger. I’ll step in if it gets too dangerous, but you need to learn.”

The wolf growled, baring its fangs. It prowled forward, its glowing eyes locked onto Andros.

Andros swallowed hard, his palms sweating as he raised his staff. The hum of magic inside him buzzed to life, a mixture of fire and wind swirling just beneath the surface. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he forced himself to stay grounded, remembering Billy’s lessons.

“Don’t force it,” Billy reminded him from behind. “Let the magic flow. Stay calm.”

The wolf lunged, moving faster than Andros expected. He barely had time to react, raising his hand as fire erupted from his palm. The flames shot forward, but the wolf darted to the side, dodging the attack with ease.

“Focus!” Billy shouted. “You’re letting your fear control you. Breathe, Andros!”

Andros gritted his teeth, trying to regain control. The wolf circled him, its movements swift and fluid. He could feel its magic, wild and fierce, pulsing through the air. He had to match it—had to find balance between his fire and wind.

The wolf lunged again, and this time, Andros was ready. He exhaled, letting his magic flow naturally. A gust of wind swept through the clearing, slowing the wolf’s advance. In the same moment, Andros called upon his fire, a small, controlled flame igniting in his hand. He directed it toward the wolf, forcing it back.

The wolf snarled, momentarily stunned by the combined forces of wind and fire. Andros felt a surge of confidence—he was doing it. He was in control.

But it wasn’t over yet. The wolf recovered quickly, its eyes glowing brighter as it charged again. Andros knew he had to end this quickly. With a final burst of energy, he summoned both wind and fire, combining them into a swirling vortex of flames. The fiery whirlwind caught the wolf in its path, engulfing it in flames.

The wolf yelped, stumbling back before collapsing to the ground, its body smoking. Andros stood there, panting, his hands trembling as the last of his magic faded.

“Barely did it,” Billy said, stepping forward. “But you did it.”

“What the hell was that?” Andros cried out, “We could have died against that thing. I barely have experience with magic! And I still have no idea if your magic could have helped us either.”

“Well you have some experience now, so I think you should be more grateful,” Billy responded, “It was the perfect chance to show yourself what you are capable of. And besides, combat is one of the best ways to improve your magic. Using your affinities in conjunction like that would have taken you so much longer during our little practice session.”

Andros was about to respond when the ground shook beneath them. A deep, rumbling growl echoed through the forest, and Andros’ heart sank. From the shadows, a massive creature emerged—twice the size of the wolf, with scales as black as night and eyes that burned like molten lava.

Billy sighed, “Guess it’s my turn.”

Before Andros could even blink, Billy raised his staff, his eyes glowing with a fierce, otherworldly light. The air around them shifted, charged with a terrifying power. Andros could feel the weight of Billy’s magic—something ancient, something vast.

With a single gesture, Billy unleashed a wave of energy so powerful that the ground cracked beneath them. The massive creature didn’t even have time to roar before it was consumed in a brilliant flash of light. In an instant, it was gone—obliterated, as if it had never existed.

Andros stared in shock, the air around them still humming with the aftereffects of Billy’s magic. He had never seen anything like it. Billy lowered his staff, his expression calm once more.

“That,” he said, “is my magic. That is what you should strive for.”

Andros could only nod, his mind reeling from what he had just witnessed. There was so much more to Billy than he had realized—so much power hidden beneath his old, weathered exterior. And he had a feeling of that was a mere drop in the bucket for him.

"What sort of monster did I wander into?" Andros asked himself

“Let’s keep moving,” Billy said, as if nothing had happened. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

Andros followed in silence, his thoughts racing. He had barely survived the fight with the wolf, but Billy… Billy was on a completely different level.