It was a stormy afternoon, dark clouds covering the sky as lightning flashed and furious, howling winds whipped a lone carriage, scuttling along a poorly constructed country road. The huge, rain-filled potholes —which were expertly avoided— and the streams of water, running down the edge of the roof, did not make the coachman's job any easier.

Inside the well-equipped vehicle, sat Teo, immersed in his own thoughts, as he traveled towards the harbor city of Sigella with his paternal grandfather. Teo's relatives really did get in touch with him around a week after his father had sent the letter back then, they just had not expected to get a carriage as an answer, instead of a letter.

His 'grandfather' was a rather bulky, but tall and well-built man in his fifties, a few streaks of grey already visible between his chestnut-brown hair. He did not make a particularly bad impression, but he appeared well versed in using his blue hawk-eyes to glare at people for extended amounts of time, making one wonder, if his brows were simply stuck in this position, unable to be moved anymore.

He did, however, show some real concern for Teo during their Journey, making him think, that he was not as unapproachable as he appeared.

Sigella was actually not that far from Ritark, only distanced around three days of travel to the south —at least in a carriage or on horseback, traveling by foot was a completely different story. However, Teo was still unaccustomed to spend so much time on the road, giving him a strange feeling, even when his distant family did not spare any expenses while preparing his escort.

Teo had taken a lot of time, to properly say goodbye to his friends and family back in Ritark. Half of the village had gathered, to see him off that day, even Mr. Atkins lay aside his work, to mingle with the villagers, which was a supremely rare sight to behold.

He did not know, who told everyone about his departure, but he was glad he had the chance to say goodbye, as it would probably be a long time before he would see them all again.

This was his second day in the carriage and Teo was very bored, with the bad weather ever since this morning, he could not even go outside for a short walk and just continued to stare holes into the air. At first, he had spent a lot of time, talking to his grandfather, mostly about what awaited him, but the man was not very talkative and Teo grew tired of asking.

Apparently, he was currently the only one in the family with the "Ancestors' Gift" —what they called the Affinity for Arcane Magic— besides the current family head, his granduncle Thoralv Grassdown. Which obviously made him a very valuable pawn in the game of family politics.

Luckily his grandfather, Troy Grassdown, had a high position within the clan, overseeing their whole naval business operations, and vowed to protect Teo as best he can; he was very protective of his close kin, after failing his eldest son, losing him semi-permanently. The most Teo had to endure would probably be the envious glares of other children and at most some pranks; the adults would treat him like a raw egg instead, afraid of breaking it accidentally, expectantly awaiting the day of his hatching, so he might bring prosperity to the family.

From the anecdotes his grandfather told, it seemed like the bloodline of the Grassdown lineage was rather thin, because only every 2. or 3. Generation would see the rise of a new Arcane, most of the time barely even possessing a Low-Rank Mana Affinity.

It seemed, like Teo's Intermediate Rank Mana Affinity was not so simple after all and he would be accepted into the household with open arms for it.

The Grassdown clan was neither very large, nor powerful, only possessing enough land and money, to be called considerably wealthy, but far from the true behemoths of the county, not even considering the large families residing near the capital.

Though the fortune, they accumulated over the centuries, still allowed most of its members to lead relatively worry-free lives near the family domicile, a century-old villa, where the most important family members resided.

Before Teo had even heard about its existence for the first time, he was already accepted into Saint Joujack's Magic School, the only one of its kind in Sigella, where he would learn everything about the culture, history, calculus and hopefully Magic. He would also step into his granduncle's footprints and learn the art of Enchantment from him...

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Everything was already decided before he even got to talk to anyone about it.

Teo was not exactly sure, what he should think about this, but what he felt, was an unsettling strained feeling in his gut and a lot of pressure.

He knew neither, if he could rise up to all the expectations saddled onto him, nor if he wanted to, but he would find out soon enough.

___________________________

Edgar sat motionless in his favorite armchair and looked outside the large, uncurtained window of his living quarters, observing the torrential rainfalls, that accompanied today's thunderstorm.

In his hand he held an unusually exquisite porcelain cup, containing a black, steaming liquid, from which he periodically sipped.

'Coffee', that was how the drink was called, was quite rare around here. It was only cultivated in the lushly overgrown jungles of Kalar's south and he especially had to import it from almost the other side of the Continent for an astronomical price. But he quite enjoyed its deep, aromatic taste and started to prefer it over tea, after first trying it; saving his stash for the most precious moments to better savor it.

'A bitter drink, for a bitter man,' he thought self-mockingly while staring at nothing in particular.

He wanted to deny it, but he had gotten attached to the boy after all. His talent was mediocre, but his hard-working attitude and sharp mind were just the right tools for studying magic, allowing him to progress faster and farther than Edgar had speculated.

He never spoke it out loud, but Teo could almost keep up with the prodigious expectations, he himself grew up with and came to demand from others as well. For a short time, he was able to teach him, he achieved far more than a mere child his age possessing mediocre talent should be able to.

Teo did not remind him of his younger self or something moronic like that, he simply discovered, that he did not dislike, sharing his knowledge with the younger generations. At the very least, they did not judge him and were extremely grateful for every morsel of wisdom he threw at them.

Maybe he should have accepted the offer from his old mentor, after all, to stay as a lab assistant or become a teacher for a Magic School after his graduation from the Academy. Yet he was far too ambitious and blinded by his own greed to realize his limitations and accept his fate, while he still had the chance.

Who would have expected, that he would accept a "student" and would honestly teach him up to the limitations of his own competence, after all these years of being ostracized and living in isolation, banished by his academic brethren? Even going as far as tipping of the village chief about the boy's approaching departure, so he could organize a proper farewell...

He really did grow softer with age, completely shedding his old moniker: "Edward the Annihilator".

"Well, who cares? At least the coffee is good," he said as he sunk deeper into the gentle embrace of his armchair and relaxed, taking another long sip from his cup while listening to the occasional crackling of the nearby fireplace.

_________________________

"Dang!"

"Dang!"

"Dang!"

Hammering echoed through the catacombic cellars of the mansion, reverberating along the aged walls and pillars, where long shadows danced like demonic silhouettes.

A dwarfish old man, whose polished scalp created a deep contrast to his impressively lush, grey beard, could be seen torturing a lone lump of red-hot iron upon a huge, black anvil.

His exposed and muscular upper body glistened in the red glow of his forge with fresh sweat, while a pair of small, pointed goggles protected his eyes from the sparks, flying around like fireflies.

Contrary to his brutish appearance, this was Sigella's most accomplished Enchanter, famous for his magnificently detailed and exquisite works, Thoralv Grassdown.

What he was doing right now, was not his work though, smithing was but a hobby of his. He liked to shape new things with his very own hands and deeply appreciated the balance between physical and mental strain, both his crafts provided aplenty.

Thoralv especially loved to enchant tools, he had forged himself. Seeing a powerful Artifact, which he had formed from nothing more than a lump of metal and some gemstones was always something very special.

He always went to his forge, when he needed to think, when he really needed to get his head clear, to concentrate. The hard physical labor would always get his mind back on track as the rhythmic smashing of the hammer in his hand would slowly loosen all the tangled thoughts that haunted him.

This family lay in his hands for over thirty years now and he had done what he could, to slowly build it up and retake their bygone glory. One of his biggest worries had been the question about his successor though, as none of the youngest generations seemed talented enough —or talented at all, in any aspect, to be more exact.

This suddenly changed, with the arrival of an unexpected letter around 5 days ago. It was from Rainert, Troy's eldest, who he had already labeled as hopeless, many years ago.

Without any prior indication, he was delivered, what he needed the most, exactly when he needed it most:

A promising and talented youth, possessing the Ancestors' Gift, whom he could entrust the following generations to.

It felt almost like a practical joke or a cruel whim of fate, trying to give him hope, just to nip it in the bud, leaving him heartbroken and despaired. He would not be able to take the sudden shock with his advanced age; he would only believe it, the moment he laid eyes on the boy himself.

Only an idiot would be unsuspecting, when delivered a refreshing drink in a desert, it was better to be careful.