Savon peeked around the corner. His hand flew to his mouth, trying to stifle a giggle. He ducked back. Gold curls bounced by. He looked again, watching as Katlyn searched the bushes.

"You always do this? Where are you? This isn’t fun. I’m serious," she said, looking under the bushes. "Your mom said we weren't supposed to play here."

Savon covered his mouth with both his hands. What was the point of playing hide and seek if he told her where he was?

He rolled his eyes and hid further behind the pillar. Katlyn was bad at this game, but she was his wife, so they had to play together.

Savon knew his mom was his dad's wife, but they didn't play together, so he wasn't sure why he had to play with Katlyn when she wasn't any fun. He'd tried to explain that, but his mom gave him that look—the one where her lips turned down like she tasted something funny. That look meant he had to do what she said, even though it made no sense.

It wouldn't be long before they found him. The game always went this way. Katlyn would search for a while, but he hid super well. Then she'd cry to a maid who would find him real quick. Adults were great at hide and seek. They could make a little arrow in their palm and find you no matter where you hid.

Katlyn stamped her foot and then ran off. She did that a lot—stamp her foot and tell him what to do. Penny said that would make her a good wife. Savon thought he wouldn't be able to eat cake if she were his wife. She was bossy, Penny was bossy, and Penny’s husband didn't get to eat sweets. Jack would sneak into the kitchen to eat them, but always got caught.

Savon didn't want to get caught, so he had to change spots. It was hard for them to find you if you kept moving.

He ran out, crossing the garden as fast as he could. He'd go to the kitchen and then the library.

Savon bumped into something, stumbling back and landing on his butt. Penny told him to watch where he was going, but he always thought a lot and forgot to look. "Sorry," he said.

"Not a problem, young master." There was a baby in her arms. He was sucking on his finger and looked sleepy.

Savon stared at the baby. It was the first baby he'd met other than himself who had the same thing as the adults. Like Dad, this kid had something hot crawling under his skin. He looked at the woman again. She had something warm under her skin. The adults called it mana, but it didn't feel the same inside a person as the mana stones he'd seen."Are you lost?" he asked.

"No, why would you ask that?" She asked, stroking the kid's head.

"This is my mom's garden. She doesn't allow anyone in here." he looked around, sure she’d pop out of nowhere. He wasn’t supposed to be here either. Savon's mom had ice and his dad had fire inside, but Savon didn't. He had a lot of water flowing inside. Savon was very proud of it. He hid and practiced using it to show his parents as a surprise.

The woman got that look on her face—the same as his mom, like she’d eaten kalpha and it was extra sour. Savon might get that look too—he didn't like kalpha either.

"Vivian, this is where you are. I was looking for you." There were heavy footsteps against the rock.

"Sorry, father." Vivian turned to the voice.

Savon tried to run. He knew that stormy presence anywhere. Kurt was here.

"Young master," Kurt said.

Savon didn't dare to look up. He toed at the ground with his shoe. Kurt was scary, and it wasn't even the scar on his face. Well, it wasn't only because of the scar on his face.

"Where is Miss Katlyn?"

"I don't know. Probably went to get help 'cause she's bad at the game." Savon didn't like Kurt. He always took up Dad's time and never let Savon see him. And he was the one who hired Miss Denis. Savon really didn't like Miss Denis. She got upset when he was smarter than her and slapped the back of his legs with a switch. That happened a lot because, for a tutor, Miss Denis wasn't smart.

His mom said Kurt wasn't taking up Dad's time. Dad was busy with work. Savon didn't want to work if he didn't have time to play.

"Are you listening, young master?" Kurt asked.

"Is this your daughter?" Savon asked, shuffling from foot to foot. He'd run, but Kurt was wicked fast even if he was old. Kurt had worked for Grandpa when Grandpa was in charge, so he had to be really old.

Kurt huffed. "Yes, this is my daughter and grandson. She and her husband are visiting me much like Miss Katlyn, who is here for a play date."

"How old is he?" Savon scrambled for things to ask, pointing at the kid.

"He's four," Vivian said, stroking the baby's head.

"That's three years younger than me," Savon said. “Katlyn is one year younger than me and Cole is two years older.”

"I've heard you're very good at math."

Savon wanted to leave. He didn’t know what he said wrong. She looked like Miss Denis when Savon corrected a mistake she made. Her eyes weren't smiling.

"Savon,"

"Mom," he said, jumping on the spot. Katlyn stood behind his mom with her arms folded, sticking her tongue out at him. "Off with you," she said, calling over a maid. "Cole and Victor are waiting for you in the Blue Room."

Savon cheered up, grabbing Katlyn's hand and running. It was always fun to play with Cole and Victor. Last time, they went into the woods and found worms to learn how to fish."

"Vivian, Kurt didn't tell me you'd be visiting. And this must be--"

***

Savon stared at the sky. He had grand plans but poor planning. He'd escaped and reached his safe house, but completed the journey in an adrenaline-fueled haze.

After that, he'd promptly passed out and slept for at least a day. It might be more, but he couldn't be sure. He'd gone to sleep at night and woke up at night. Savon didn't even make it inside. His clothes were damp and there was a chill. Shivering, he thought about what to do next.

The plan was to grab a few things before heading deeper into the forest and finding one of the smuggler routes. From there, he'd join a caravan going to the Empire. People using that route wouldn't blink twice at someone hiding their identity. That was still the plan, but it would only work if they weren't looking for him.

Savon bit his nail. He had two choices: risk it and go straight to the smuggler's route he knew, and hope soldiers weren't looking for him. Or go into town to assess the situation.

They both had drawbacks. If he went straight into the forest and there were soldiers on patrol, he'd get caught. Conversely, if he went into town and they weren't looking for him, he would have wasted time and left a trail for them to follow.

His hand went to his chest. It was hollow. That shaky circle that burned in his chest had disappeared while he'd slept. Savon thought he'd mentally prepared himself, but still felt crushing disappointment.

Had Duke Orik used the right path from the start, would it have worked?

That question popped into his mind often since he woke in the clearing. Not even the hunger gnawing at his belly had been enough to get him to move. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the forest swallow him.

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There were wali wasps and crickets out, singing in the night. Creatures yipped and howled, hunting in the darkness. Wind howled through the towering old-growth hagarwood trees.

Peace settled in him. The road ahead was uncertain, but a weight lifted off him when he decided not to return. Savon couldn't say with a hundred percent surety that he wasn't just running away, but he knew he'd be ruined if he stayed.

Savon sprang up. His body ached, but it wasn't debilitating. The second healing potion removed most of the lingering pain and wounds. His hand moved, touching his face. The scars were permanent—a parting gift from his father.

Yeah, he wouldn't think about that. Savon bottled up all those thoughts and shoved them into a deep, dark corner of his mind.

Savon looked around the clearing. It would be the last time he came here. He walked over to one of the massive trees, placing his hand on the trunk. He tugged at the mana, connecting with it. Savon savored the soothing rush of mana in his body.

I can still feel it.

He bit his lip, body sagging in relief. He rested his forehead on the tree and let the feeling wash over him. Savon was relieved. The ritual failed, but he'd avoided the worst consequences. That had been his biggest fear, more than dying, losing this connection to mana and the world. Bonus points for living, and he could still use null spells.

Savon could live with that.

He turned, looking at the ivy-covered two-story building. He'd stumbled on it when he was ten and claimed it from the past owner who abandoned it.

It was a stupid and risky move when he thought back. He'd dripped blood on an unknown artifact he'd found in the middle of the forest. Savon thought it was a grand adventure at the time and hadn't understood how bad it could have turned out.

Thankfully, he got a house instead of a curse or something worse. It was the best choice he'd ever made. It became his refuge, and he'd used it as a lab over the past seven years.

He walked inside, gathering anything useful and all his research material. He looked around, gutted by how empty the place was. Here, this place, made it clear he was leaving home.

That word turned over in his mind as he made his way to the second floor. This was his home, and he was leaving. It hurt, but not as much as it should. Savon wondered about the people who lived here before. How did they feel when they had to leave?

Savon opened the last door upstairs. It used to be a child's bedroom. He regretted throwing away all the furniture when he first received the house.

Inside was empty except for a row of four shelves on the wall. Three shelves held vials. The last shelf was empty.

In the palm of his hand, he forced out his mana, collecting it. He took out a sealed glass vial with runes etched into it from his storage ring.

Savon forced his mana into it. It glowed before settling. Trapped inside the glass was a crystallized teardrop of mana. Savon walked over, filling the final shelf. This marked his fourth and final attempt to form a mana circle around his heart.

Savon left, closing the door behind him.

Taking out a piece of paper, he wrote a note similar to the one he found.

This house has served me well. I hope it provides everything you need.

SL

Savon took out the ward stone, hesitating. If he cut his connection to the wards, he'd never be able to find this place again. The original owner charmed the stone to find a person lost in the forest who needed safety.

He went outside, the ward stone clenched in his so tight it drew blood. He'd outgrown this place, and he wasn't sad, but he located the idea of losing something that was his.

Savon forced his fingers open, one by one. The stone fell to the floor, vanishing. Once he stepped past the ward boundaries, that was it.

He steeled himself, walking forward.

Bang.

Savon whipped around. The surrounding temperature dropped, his breath coming out as frosty puffs. A sparking light formed in the air, growing brighter like a star before it formed into a bird.

His mouth dropped open, and he took a shaky step forward. That couldn't be possible. This—he knew this spell. He'd created it, but it was a third-circle spell and he couldn't test it to see if the spell worked.

Has someone stolen his work? That was impossible.

He watched in awe as the bird circled the air on watery wings before diving at Savon. Giddiness bubbled up inside him, along with questions. He didn't move, holding out his hand. Just as he'd planned it. The bird popped, and a letter formed from the water.

With trembling hands, he examined the envelope. It didn't have a single mark and was a bit heavy, an object inside. Common sense told him to throw it away. It came out of nowhere using a spell that shouldn't exist, but because of that, Savon's curiosity took over.

He opened the seal and pulled out the letter.

If you are reading this, I'm dead.

What a morbid way to begin, but I have always wanted to start a letter that way—and it is an unfortunate truth. I have made it so that these letters will not be sent until my passing.

How long do you think I lived? It is all very exciting.

I am more surprised that I lived this long. I did not expect it, and so many went before me. Good men and women with far more skill than I. Well, please forgive an old man for his rambling.

I was not sure if this letter would reach you. I am glad it has. The magic behind it is theoretical and there is no way for me to verify if it works. If this is successful, I imagine the time I am from will never come to pass—not exactly as it was—not for you. I do not think you can change what is to come. It is ill-advised to try, but that may be my cowardice. With age, I became more scared cautious.

I am rambling again. I have written this letter hundreds of times and have resolved to send this one no matter what.

You may have guessed by now that this is a letter from the future. It is not a pleasant future. I would not wish it on my worst enemy, but we do the best with what we have.

In all honesty, I wanted to live a different life. With that in mind, I devised a plan to give you, my younger self, that opportunity. This missive serves that purpose.

If my calculations work, and the timing is right—in a minute or so, you would have left the wards. From there, you would have traveled to Sanhim via the smuggler's route. On the route, you would meet the Astol group, a particularly fascinating woman named Taffy, and a daring slave girl with an E name that escapes me at the moment. Neither girl is important to our story, but I wish to give enough information to verify what I have said.

Near Sanhim, you will come across a caravan leaving for the capital and separate from the Astol group. They become important later, but that is a tale for a different time or letter.

Ah, forgive my humor. It only makes sense to me and is quite dry.

It is at this point I urge you to deviate from my path. I traveled to the capital with Haman's Caravan. On arrival, I learned the White Tower was taking applicants, and I applied using our paired spell. That got me a meeting with the Emperor who assigned me to the First Legion, where I worked on magic for logistic support. My subsequent work earned me an earldom. I must have used all my courage to get to the capital because I settled into that role for fifty years without change. I did not marry or have children. Both were an unnecessary risk.

In my mid-twenties, a concerning group started collecting followers, but they weren’t taken seriously. That was a mistake. A war began, and I am ashamed to say I am unaware of the events that led to it. I did my work with my head down. I stayed protected in the capital and didn't occupy a position where I was privy to that information. My lack of circles kept me from promotion, and I was content not to know. There were signs something was happening, but I buried my head in the sand until it was too late.

The war reached the capital and forced me to flee. On my way to Sanhim, raiders attacked my group, separating us. I escaped and wandered, lost in the forest for days. It was there I stumbled upon a teleportation array that changed my destiny. It took me to the Mar Mountains on the southern continent. There I found a cultivation manual. It would take many words to explain what that is to you, but to sum it up, it was a technique that I could learn that rivaled that of being a third-circle mage.

That might not sound impressive, but I was already sixty-seven and past my prime. The optimal age to learn was between thirteen and eighteen. I'm sure you understand. The idea for this letter came to mind when contemplating how my life would have differed if I started cultivating sooner.

As I write this letter, I'm a hundred and ten and the flames of war have spread to the south. That will probably be a topic of future letters, but for now, I will just say it is a worrying situation.

It is up to you whether this correspondence continues. A letter is already in the cave, waiting for your decision.

Is it a correspondence if I am the only one writing?

Ah, I digress.

Enclosed is a compass that will guide you to that teleportation array. Fear not, it is not a one-use array, but once there, search for the command token and set the barrier and array to only allow those with tokens to enter. That will ensure you do not get any uninvited guests. A lesson I learned the hard way. The tokens will be on the bookshelf in a box with a bird carved on the cover.

Onto a topic that I have avoided all my life. I do not know what happened to the Duchy. Shortly after I reached the capital, security at the borders was tightened and I could only find information if I went looking for it, which I did not. I was in my forties when I heard someone inherited the title, and declared the territory and Archduchy, but I removed myself from the conversation and do not have the details.

I can imagine the look on your face, but there were side effects to the ritual. Something changed in me, and I became less than I was, a lethargy that I did not shake until I started cultivating. It was not noticeable but became worse in the coming days. You are experiencing it now–that ache will not go away. You will wake disoriented, and struggle to move. Your mind will become sluggish but not unusable. Lastly, you will lose your mana over the next year.

I say all of this to influence your decision, but it is ultimately up to you.

P.S. Mera’s brewery burned down, and the recipe was lost along with the owner. Drink your remaining bottles sparingly. I did not know, finishing mine on the journey to Sanhim–a true tragedy. I have not found a drink to replace it and have taken to brewing my own.

I have given you enough food for thought, until next time mini-me.