It took Liam several hours to slip away from his new fan club. Both amongst the guards who were all asking him to empower their rods; and the felinids who were recently freed. They crowded around him pestering him with questions, or gratitude, or just standing too close to him, as though touching him was enough to impart fertility or good fortune. He didn’t want to taser anyone again, but they were keeping him from returning to his family. His thoughts cycled through his mana, seeking options, a fireball, or shadowshield would clear the crowd… But not in the way he wanted. Then he fell upon the light attribute. He activated his split mind talent, allowing his trains of thought to diverge, one trying to placate the crowd while his inner train activated his magic.

Light came easily, and he sent a whisper to Leandry, picturing the message like he would picture a text.

‘Leandry, help me escape! Please!’

She jerked in alarm, her eyes going to Liam as she shoved her way through the crowd, pushing aside onlookers. Mana boiled as her own mana saturated the air, engulfing the two of them in a field that bent light around them, concealing them from sight and sound.

“Hang on.” Ordered Leandry, wrapping her arms around Liam and pulling him uncomfortably close to her armor.

Practically squishing his face into her breastplate.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging tightly. Wind rushed by them, Liam felt momentum yank his stomach through his feet. Then it began to jerk him left and right as they flew through the forest, dodging tree trunks and elves and everything in between. The motion sloshed Liam’s guts, giving him near instant motion sickness. He retched, esophogus spasming violently, yet his empty stomach produced nothing.

His arms flapped against Leandry’s armor, a move that only seemed to spur her onward, driving them faster. Flinging them through the world like a bungee jumper getting yanked. Liam’s stomach heaved again, and again Leandry increased their speed. Brown trunks blended into green leaves until Liam snapped his eyes closed. Heart racing as he tried not to panic.

Then it was over.

Leandry’s arms released Liam, and he peeked one eye open, finding his feet firmly planted on a wooden platform. He collapsed to his knees, dry heaving over the edge. Several moments later he was curled up on the platform, wheezing as he calmed his aching nerves.

“That was awful.” Said Liam.

“Ha, reminds me of my first flight! Except that my dad fed me a healthy breakfast first! ‘Leandry, you gotta keep up your strength!’” She said, lowering her voice to mimic his, “The old fart made sure I wasn’t facing him, then laughed as I puked over the whole damn forest! Ha!” Leandry said, laughing at the story as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

“Would you idiots quit shouting on my porch?!” Shouted a voice.

Wood slammed against wood, the door narrowly missing Leandry as it was flung open. An elderly man, practically naked except for a pair of black silky briefs stood in the doorway, setting his foot down after kicking the door open.

“What are you puff-chasers doing on my porch!” Demanded the man.

“Got a new student for you. Cheers.” Said Leandry, taking four steps back and doing a backflip off the edge. She fell from the tree, a whisper of air echoing through the forest as she flew away.

Leaving Liam curled up next to a puddle of his own spit.

“Hi.” He groused, trying to make the world stop spinning.

“Look at you! I don’t teach impotent adults! Go bother some human mage, they always seem to have time to waste pursuing failure.” Said the elf shooing Liam away with his hand, like he was some stray cat trying to beg for scraps.

Liam staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth.

“Let me guess, you don’t like clothes because they interfere with the world’s heartbeat.” Liam gestured towards the black briefs, “And that’s as much umbral threads as you could manage. Why don’t you tell me how it’s made and see how long it takes me to replicate.” Said Liam.

“Bah, you’re an idiot. Everyone knows you make umbral threads by shaving an umbraquin’s hindquarters! Good luck trying to find an adult, or an umbraquin who has grown their hair out long enough to weave.” The man, presumably Selewyne, retreated into his hut, brandishing an entire robe of the midnight black threads. “Took a century to gather, but what is that to an elf.” He said, shrugging. “Now if you’re done, get off my porch!”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Selewyne retrieved a staff and a saber, brandishing both at Liam.

He closed his eyes to avoid rolling them. For an old man, Selewyne was acting like a fat kid protecting his half eaten snickers bar. Liam raised one hand, palm upraised, and tried to sculpt something new. He started with orbs, a ball of crackling lightning, wiggling water, dirt, flames, and darkness.

But he didn’t stop there, each orb elongated, forming a knuckle, then it elongated again, once more splitting slightly as a second and third knuckle were formed. Lastly he carved the fingernail, picturing five raised middle fingers within the palm of his hand. The sage scratched his chin with his staff, glaring questions at Liam.

“Why would a fivefold mage depict fingers? Of all the strange things.” Asked Selewyne, brow knitting together in confusion.

Liam opened his eyes, and wanted to slap his forehead for being an idiot. Each of the carved fingers was crude but anatomically correct, except they weren’t attached to anything. Worse, they were all equal in length. There was no way to tell if he’d depicted a middle or a pinky finger. To clarify the jab, he arrayed them into a line, and bookended the five fingers with two of his own. The middle finger from both hands.

“I’m a terrible sculpter, does this help?”

“You cheeky asshole. Good luck finding a chair that fits your ego!” Grumbled Selewyne.

“Says the man pointing a sword at a Lightning Lord.” Answered Liam, raising his own eyebrow.

Said sword faltered, suddenly feeling heavier than a child’s casket.

“Erm, ahem. I can’t help grown men. You’re too old!” Said the oldest man in the room, leaning his sword and stave into an alcove in the treehouse’s wall leaving them to float.

Which was when Liam realized they were inside of a great Aelorn tree, one of giants that towered above the forest. Except this one stood alone, with no other trees within sight.

“If you can guess my age correctly, I'll leave and never return.” Said Liam, a grin spreading across his face.

“Ha, give me fifty years of wiggle room.” Laughed Selewyne, not believing a word Liam said.

“You can have a hundred.”

That got the wind mage’s attention, and for the first time Liam saw a glimmer of curiosity in the man’s eye.

“I’ve never guessed wrong, not even for humans. You’re young, playing the odds I could guess one hundred and fifty. Are you sure you want to give me that much leeway?”

“I’m so sure, that I’ll fill a staff with mana if you guess correctly. Although, just so it’s fair, I command lightning and life affinities, this body was altered to suit my own needs, as well as Taloc’s.”

Selewyne’s full attention was carved into Liam.

“Then let us up the stakes, if I guess within fifty years, you’ll answer all my questions.”

“Deal.”

Selewyne smiled, extending his hand and chanting beneath his breath. Small vortices of wind sailed around Liam, disrupting his hair, curling his beard, and making his clothes flap. Throughout the torrent Selewyne’s smile dipped, falling flat then creeping into a frown.

“I must commend your talent for concealment, the spirits whisper that you have yet to turn five. Preposterous.”

“Is that your guess?”

“Ha, no being can alter themselves into a man within four years! Your magic would have to have awoken in the womb. Bah! A fool's guess! But you are younger than I was thinking. One hundred and twenty five is my guess. Now, what do you mean Taloc altered you? Have you spoken to the Queen? Or is this mere conjecture?” Asked Selewyne, so confident that he had already won.

“You should have trusted the spirits Selewyne. My fifth birthday will be coming soon, although I’m not exactly sure of the date, nor have I had cause to celebrate it thus far. So I'm not sure if I’m four or five years old.” Said Liam.

“If you’re going to lie there is no point continuing this conversation.” Said Selewyne, deflating as he felt cheated.

“Your own spirits– Ah, how about this. I swear on the name of Therun Perun Taloc, may he strike me down if I lie, that I am, well, that this body is four or five years old.”

Selewyn hopped away from Liam, pressing himself against the far wall.

“Don’t make oaths like that indoors! Go outside and give him a clear shot, or recant.”

Liam opened the door and waved his hand at the sky.

“Clear enough of a shot?”

Selewyne’s eyes bugged out of his skull. “Preposterous, impossible, wait! What did you mean ‘this body’?” Demanded Selewyne.

“Twenty- no, closer to thirty years ago, I was born as a human. When I was in college, uhm… studying to be a surgeon, but not like this world’s surgeons, eh, that doesn’t matter- Taloc struck me down and dumped my soul into the body of an elderly man, a worthless broken body that had already died once. But, I found love, and to protect her I died. Which is when I had a chat with ol’ Taloc and he granted me a new body–”

“You’ve met him? Face to face?”

“Yes.”

Selewyne stared into Liam’s eyes, detecting no hint of a lie. The strength fled from his body and the man –still in his boxers– collapsed, barely making it into one of the floating chairs inside the home. It dipped as his weight drove it down, but never touched the floor. In fact, nothing in the room was touching the floor, not a single one of the hundreds of books, nor the bed, and not even the sacks of dried food were left untouched by the wind mage’s conjurings.

“I had not thought he might return during my lifetime.” Whispered Selewyne, covering his face as long unused tearducts began to leak.

“Sage Selewyne, will you teach me the secrets of wind? I would be forever indebted to you.” Said Lightning Lord Tufan Biliam Alhusam.

“It’s not wind magic! We aren't passing farts or talking shit! It’s spirit magic!”

“Yes sir.” Said Liam, jotting that down as his first lesson.