Far above the world, Mariel Stormrider rode on a cloud, her azure robes billowing behind her. Mana burned with her every breath, and her eyes shone the color of lightning. Under her hood, her silver hair was tied in a bun, and she wore tinted goggles to block the sunlight. Propelled by the sparking storm of her [Nimbus], she watched as the fields and forests of Western Acretan rolled by beneath her.

She hadn’t flown like this in decades, blazing through the sky without any rest, leaving nothing in reserve. It had made sense to push herself back when she’d been young and foolish, an up-and-coming dungeoneer with no championships and much to prove. Though she was supposedly older and wiser now, she still found herself desperate.

Mariel had taken flight from Prospera City shortly after dawn, Elysion’s blazing white sun still hanging low in the sky. Now, it was directly above her.

Though her apprentice and youngest child, Maxim, had left the city by her side, he’d started to lag almost immediately. She’d lost sight of him hours ago.

He’d catch up in his own time, but Mariel couldn’t afford to waste a moment. After all, she had to save her other son, reckless and foolish though he might have been.

Even if he’d squandered his talents to pursue his dream of being a painter, he was still family. Besides, the elves appreciated art. Though he was a failure as a wizard, perhaps he could redeem himself as an envoy and ambassador.

Or at least, that had been her hope.

Mariel could feel her [Nimbus] crackling around her as she soared, mana flowing from the pores of her skin and passing through the specially crafted weave of her robes to fuel the spell. If she’d been feeling cautious, she would have taken a rest by now. Instead, she’d allowed part of her mind to meditate while barely aware of her surroundings, focusing entirely on speed.

Thankfully, the concentration needed to simultaneously fly and meditate allowed Mariel to ignore her frustrations. For example, the fact that her husband Magnus, even after receiving a warning their son was in danger, hadn’t planned to lift a finger to help.

“His own fault,” Magnus had said. When Mariel came downstairs that morning, he’d been sitting in their breakfast nook reading the daily newspaper as if nothing was wrong. “Besides, the council is voting on the new bridge project today. I couldn’t possibly miss the session. Probably a hoax, anyway. Spiders!” He chuckled softly.

Mariel would have found his excuses more compelling if he’d chosen one of them and stuck to it. “Probably?” she’d said, scowling. “Did you even ask them to check the call’s origin?”

“They did,” Magnus Stormrider replied. “It came from the Frostpeaks. That much was true, but it doesn’t make sense, Mari. There’s nothing out there, and even Marcus would never have—hey, wait!”

Mariel had grabbed a bandolier of mana potions from an emergency bag they kept under the stairs and headed out onto their balcony. She would have gone by herself, but she’d run into Maxim on her way out, and he’d seemed eager to get in some flight time.

She had burned through all but one of her mana potions by the time the Frostpeak Mountains appeared on the horizon. Mariel started to lower her altitude. Her ears popped, and she swallowed.

At last, she thought.

As her eyes scanned the mountains, she thought over what her husband had told her. There was a mountain pass near a village called Emberly. Somehow, her son had been captured by a swarm of giant spiders. Strange, but not impossible. Especially in a region filled with dungeons that hadn’t been adequately raided in centuries.

Reaching into her robes, she removed a small device resembling a compass. She had four of them—one for her husband and one for each of her three children. They had cost a small fortune to create, but they were worth it to her. Hopefully, she would be within range. She watched as the compass needle spun wildly at first before slowing down and fixing itself toward the mountains.

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Her heart skipped a beat.

You’re really here. If you’re dead, I’m going to kill your father.

She took a deep breath as she swooped down, passing over the village of Emberly, her eyes scanning the road as it led into the mountains. She glided above the trail and the trees, noticing a castle squatting on one of the nearby peaks. Made of stone black as pitch, the sight of it caused her to shiver.

Thankfully, her compass needle pointed straight ahead, deeper into the mountains, rather than towards that decrepit, forlorn hovel.

Her heart pounded as she let her mana surge into her [Nimbus], sending her shooting forward.

[ Low Mana Warning! ]

She hadn’t seen that in years. How quaint it now seemed. Dismissing the notification, she chugged her last mana potion, passing a crest where the trail stopped gaining altitude and began to level out.

Ahead of her, she spotted a train of wagons making slow progress down the road, and her compass needle fixed on them.

They look fine, she thought, confused. They were way behind schedule, but that was to be expected from her son. He’d never exactly been punctual. She wondered how many card houses were between here and Prospera.

She flew past the wagons, then turned around and began her descent. She dispelled the [Nimbus] and allowed herself to fall, enjoying a brief moment of weightlessness before she reached out and loosed a [Zephyr] underneath her. The summoned wind brought her to a gentle landing before the caravan.

The wagons came to a halt, and the lead driver dismounted and cautiously approached her. He was holding a spear in his hands, the point of which was shaking as he shouted, “Who goes there?”

Mariel almost laughed at the absurdity of the man’s challenge, considering she was one of the most famous and influential wizards in Acretan. She was about to give the man a piece of her mind but composed herself when she saw her son emerge from one of the other wagons and run towards her.

“Though admirable, Filibin, your courage is quite misplaced,” Marcus said. “My dear mother could turn you to dust with a stray thought.” He patted the man on the shoulder as he passed, then held out his arms towards Mariel. She walked forward and pulled him into an embrace.

“Marcus,” she said, feeling the tension leave her body. “You’re not dead.”

“Hello, mother,” he said, a nervous edge to his voice. “Dead? Ha, uh, why would I be dead? Nothing to worry about here.”

She took a step back and studied him carefully. “Your father heard the craziest story from security, and you wouldn’t answer your communicator, so…”

“My communicator?” he asked. “Oh, uh, it was in my pocket during the attack. It got smashed up by the spiders.”

Her eyes widened. “So that was a true story?”

The air around Mariel hummed with static electricity. She was only partly aware of it, but Marcus raised his hands, chuckling nervously as he stepped back.

“I suppose it probably was,” Marcus said, then sighed. “Listen, everything is all right, okay? I thought Dad would show up and scold me for wasting his time, and that would be the end of it. I didn’t expect you to come here. I’m sorry to have bothered you once again.”

Mariel shook her head. He didn’t care enough to come, child. “It was no bother, Marcus. And your father is very busy. He asked me to check on you in his stead.”

Marcus smiled weakly, but said nothing.

Mariel turned to the guard standing behind her son. A few others had left their wagons and gathered in a group, whispering. “Then I suppose I have Celestial Cargo to thank for protecting you, do I?” she declared. “I’ll let my husband know you’ve all earned your bonus and then some.”

None of them would meet her eye, but this wasn’t unusual. Commoners often had trouble acting natural around such a distinguished, famous wizard as herself.

Marcus chuckled. “Well, yes and no.” He turned and pointed towards the mountain behind them, at the sad, dilapidated castle Mariel had already forgotten. “I did promise Celestial Cargo that bonus, but if you’re wondering who saved me, it was them.”

“Them?”

“A man named Gideon Moody and some of his … friends.”

“Who the hell is Gideon Moody?”

“He’s uh, well, this is hard to describe. He’s a young wizard and an … innkeeper?”

“That’s an inn?” Mariel said, staring up at the castle. “I assumed it was abandoned.”

Marcus smiled. “Maybe it is, a little bit. But not for long.”

“I suppose I owe this Gideon a favor, then,” Mariel said. She sighed and shook her head, considering her situation. “Do you even realize what trouble you’ve caused? As you know, Marcus, I do not like owing people favors. But he saved you. You, my son, whose value to me is next to priceless. How do I settle a debt like that?”

“I have no bloody idea, Mother,” Marcus said. “I assure you, I gave them a generous cash infusion—”

“How classless, Marcus, to compare your own value to currency.” She clicked her teeth.

Her son shrugged his shoulders, looking almost helpless. The poor boy. At times like this, she wasn’t sure if she had coddled him too much as a child, or not nearly enough.

“I had nothing else to give them,” he said. “In any event, I’m terribly sorry my near death experience will end up causing trouble for you.”

“I knew you’d understand,” Mariel replied, even as the wheels in her mind turned. What could she get for a young wizard? A proper gift.

It would have to be something big, she thought.

Something magnificent.