“Sorry, but I can not lose!” Ulrich avowed to Aelfsigior facing him a few steps away with a large oval oaken shield with the top and bottom chipped away per design, and a two-arm long quarterstaff which served as the training spear. A defiant look visible through the slit face-visor while the veins on his exposed arms and legs popped out as his stance firmed.

Surrounding them in the first row of people were Amiriniel and Mirdbruil watching with differing excitement visible on them, Sigiwaer sitting atop his elder brother’s shoulders, leaning onto his tousled dark crown of a mane, his singular visible eye fulgent with excitement at the two man ready as if they face the foe of their lives.

“I am afraid neither I can relent.” Aelfsigior answered back as a smile curved onto his thick, silken bearded mouth as he turned to face Amiriniel and Sigi, winking at each, eliciting a deep envy from Ulrich.

The two circled around in the frozen mud and snow covered circular ground, never taking their eyes off each other when the bell rang. Mist escaped from the slit opening of their helmets as they took deep breaths, Ulrich going through many motions, settling on being the first to strike.

Mana flowed and formed into inscription in his anima veins, danced around the arkhaine points in his legs and arms as they both became sturdier and lighter before he became a slightly blurry figure in the eyes of his children before he leapt a little in the air, just to be a bit above Aelfsigior as he cleaved down his wooden sword at his shield.

As per his calculations the elderly aevhe quickly realized his aim and retaliated with his spear jerking up, waiting for his heavy armored body to fall onto its flat tip. “Watch out Papa!” As Sigi worried voice reached his ears, he felt even more invigorated and easily moved his body while descending in this short distance and time.

The blunt edge of his blade stroke against the crescent like inwards slope and as if it gained sharpness, sliced through until it stopped at the metallic snow white vambrace of Aelfsigior, yet the crack itself continued on until the shield broke into two halves and fell unceremoniously to the ground.

The crowd yelled out as Ulrich won, his pride doubled as he watched the usually shy Sigi burst out clapping even on top of his brother’s broad shoulders.

**

After the duel came to an end, the crowd dispersed and Sigi and Amiriniel began their maghiokel practice in the ring with now roles reversed as Ulrich and Aelfsigior watched as Priernuss taught Mirdbruil how to create golems for more advanced practice.

At first, they were a bit bored as Priernuss explained how to focus and mold a false will into the vague humanoid shape made of mud and snow approximately matching their height. A bit of excitement dawned on Ulrich’s face while Aelfsigior felt a bit nostalgic as he recalled his superiors raising golems out from the earth and molding a false will into them.

Usually the procedure to create golem entailed molding one mana into the surrounding mana forced into the golem’s makeshift body, forcing basic instinctual memories like how to move your body, how to recognize danger and if the practitioner needed or wanted it, then a mild killing intent.

For a short moment the two man looked at each other and pondered on the same thought. Why did not we ask him to make us some golems for practice? And for an equally short time they wanted to immediately ask him to be the resident golem creator for practice purposes, but gave up for now as they saw as Mirdbruil struggled a little making her first and were afraid of the ramifications that came with them becoming the culprits.

The two silently sat, munching on their breads as the practice for the two kids began as two masculine figures without features rose up from the ground, clutching their knees before rising into a statuesque position exhuming with an extreme sense of pridefulness.

**

After finishing their meals, the two walked up to the edge of the training grounds and watched amazed as the two combated the two golems, keeping their distance as the masculine figures of mud creeped closer, evaded the spheres of flames and solid ice flying out from their soft palms.

When one of them wavered the other quickly aided them, if their wards showed ethereal cracks upon their transparent surfaces, the other erected one more over it. “Pretty good for their age.” Aelfsigior said while his attention focused completely on the fight unfolding and the crowd now mostly consisting of the trainees including Eadwald condensed around them.

“A few more years and they will be able to join us up.” Priernuss said with pride in his voice while his eyes followed the movements of the two children slowing down with their casting, starting to realize bombarding was not that valid of a technique against targets moving as fast as these two golems.

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While Amiriniel maintained a calm demeanor, Sigiwaer seemed frustrated. Even with his gift, he could not take down one of the mindless golems. It gnawed at him, guiding his mind to tap into that strange maghia but in the end he resisted the temptation, afraid of becoming devoid of emotions, sensations like a doll.

As his small chest puffed out while he drew deep breaths, his gaze shot past the two and into Amiriniel’s eyes. The two lightly nodded their heads and began channeling their mana. “Interesting.” Priernuss murmured as he felt the heat concentrating within the boundary of the ring and slowly creep its way into the frozen mud while the snow parts of their bodies began to melt already.

They continued evading the incoming attacks of the golems, barely truthfully as they lessened the inscriptions dancing around their leg’s arkhaine points. Runes of glowing warm shades filled up the space in their transparent forms, only visible to Sigiwaer. Their light gradually strengthened forcing him to close down his gifted eye while a fist of crumbling mud worryingly approached his innocent, damaged visage.

He toppled down into the wet mud, the rest of the golem collapsed onto half of his short body. A sigh escaped the young boy as he and Amiriniel released their joint will and the runes broke down into colorless particles, carried away by silent winds while claps of the surrounding watchers made his cheeks flush a little.

**

“That was quite an excellent show off.” Hevaeck, the elderly dwarven vicar of Hogstol blood slowly clapped his hands together as he approached the family as Sigi and Amiriniel each sat in their parent’s laps while sipping down the bitter brew which slowly abated their mild, ecstatic thirst for more. The two gently bowed in response while continuing their hushed slurping.

“Have you seen all of it?” Priernuss asked as he finished writing into his small sketchbook which he hid inside his leathery coat’s inner pocket.

Hevaeck solemnly shook his head before he answered. “Afraid not all of it. While I was doing my strolling after lunch, I heard and felt the rumbling of maghiath energies which beckoned me. Though what I’ve seen tell of great possibilities to these young prodigies.”

As he talked, he slowly approached the two and pulled out a small sack from his layered robes and pulled out two vibrant and transparent cubicles with crystalline surfaces, yet contrary to their looks when they easily got squeezed between his fingers and wobbled when he eased on them. He held them out in his paws, his creased elderly face adorned with a wide grandfatherly smile.

Amiriniel and Sigi both looked at him, then to the sweet cubicles of high sugar concentration, then finally onto their parents who nodded before they grabbed one each and thanked the elderly vicar. As the cubicles started melting in their mouths, they felt warm invisible arms slowly caressing, massaging their whole being, forcing the craving out from their body and soul.

“A recent invention of some alchemist in the south.” Hevaeck said as he watched the two children’s lips curve into a relaxed smile. “He said children practicing with maghia should not be forced to drink that vile brew, but instead should experience a sweet cleansing, at least I think that’s what he said.” He scraped his bald head as he sat down and stretched his short, bulky, dirty legs while his hands massaged them while emanating a pleasant warmth.

Then he reached into his small sack and took out one more sweet cubicle when he noticed Mirdbruil’s curious expression turn to a childishly craving one that made him chuckle before he floated it to the aevhen mother.

“Respected Vicar, have you brought the supplies yet?” A few silent moments passed in this almost picturesque situation which Priernuss broke as he finished scribing into his small sketchbook. Hevaeck started stroking his long gray braided beard as if he was deeply pondering on his answer.

Then he shook his head. “Haven’t yet.”

“Then me and Gna could help you with that.” Priernuss stated just as Gna passed by while carrying practice weapons out from the small shack that served as the armory for the village guard. “We can help you get a few good deals from Skabeda’s stall.”

Hevaeck chuckled and accepted the offer then noticed the worried expression on Mirdbruil. After Sigiwaer was confirmed to be the Chosen of the Almodo, the elderly dwarf pondered as his clergy’s head received a note from the capital that according to the Oracles, three of the Chosen came from the same bloodline.

Through repeating the same ritual, he did find the Seed in Eadwald and Amiriniel too, though the latter two still lacked any other signs of their blessing. Although he also suspected that the strange eye of Sigiwaer was a gift from Marghiitea herself – The Arch-Deos who planted the arkhaine seeds in the souls of the mortals, sprouting into the arkhaine points.

Yet there was no definitive evidence to this as he recalled most maghiath eyes often manifested as a third eye in the center of the forehead often in a vertical position and appearing as a runic tattoo. Maybe it was a gift from Marghiitea and Obryllia as the Solemn Shepherd often offered augmentations to those with grave damages.

While looking at Sigi noticing his mother’s expression, Hevaeck came out from his meditative state. “I’ll return as soon as I’ll become a velefinaar.” He said while burying his head into his mother’s chest while his arms looped around her curvaceous waist.

“Also no need for worry. There are plenty of years before the Empire sends out their party.” Hevaeck stood up and stroked his hair gently, once more with a grandfatherly smile. “But if they learn of us, won’t they hasten in their voyage?” Amiriniel asked with a sour expression.

Hevaeck looked at him with the same kindly expression. “Well, that is still at least two months away. And the capital is far from here, even if they send the dragon knights, that’s a few years at least.”

“So the threat isn’t that imminent?” Amiriniel looked pensive for a moment. “I think that is enough talk about the future. Let’s focus on the now while it lasts.” Before Hevaeck could answer, Priernuss broke the situation that began to feel awkward to the two parents at least as they themselves were unsure whether to leave behind their home or stay here as people were needed here against the threats that lurked in the Vesgeriath woodland.

The momentary silence was broken by the grumbling of Eadwald’s stomach. “Speaking of which, time to get lunch.”