Confusion riddled Elies’ face, his surroundings causing him to scratch his head. A rainbow-hued assortment of flowers lay beneath him, the warm breeze blowing them from side to side. It was enough to make him smile as warmly as the breeze caressing his skin—was this how Spring looked? Was this how it felt?

The warm air smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked bread, making his mouth water. Music from various wind instruments also filled his ears, harmonized by the trickle of a stream carved into the ravine below. Its water was as clear as polished gemstones.

Elies sat on his knees and leaned forward, humming with surprise. A city shrouded in light sat opposite the ravine, flashing him with colorful flecks.

He stood and shielded his eyes, turning away.

“Oberon.”

Elies lowered his hand to see the source of the honeyed voice just before him: a maiden as fair as any sitting cross-legged atop the flower bed. Her skin shared the same golden tinge as her hair, which draped over her shoulder and onto the ground, while her eyes were like a pair of suns, their warm gaze enough to make him fidget.

Elies remained rooted in place, his befuddlement growing with each passing second. This woman was a beauty, even more so than Ilta and Hazelmere, yet he felt no attraction to her. It was like he’d locked eyes with his mother or sister.

A narrow smile crept across the strange woman’s lips, and she held out her hands. “Come to me…”

*******

Elies opened his eyes to find himself staring into Ilta’s, the woman’s already pale face ghost white. Her trembling hands tightly grasped his shoulders, and her almond-shaped eyes were wide. At his sides were her knees; as such, Elies could no longer doubt it—she’d been crouching over him.

He blinked twice, then smirked at her, her face turning red before she dropped him and stepped away. “You can admit you give a damn every now and then,” Elies said, grasping Yarrow’s staff and lifting himself.

Ilta’s flustered expression vanished, and she looked away, turning up her nose. It was still enough to make Elies chuckle, however. She didn’t deny it, which was a start for their relationship.

Elies’ grin twisted into a grimace, and he touched the pulsing knot on the side of his head. He ripped his gaze away from Ilta and to the ground, locking his eyes on the staff at his feet. That was right–Yarrow had knocked him out while training him to use that staff.

He rubbed his knot and glared at Yarrow with one eye squeezed shut. “You could have let me sleep,” he grunted.

Yarrow didn’t smile or frown. He cocked his head at Ilta, who then turned her back to both of them. “I didn’t make her do anything. The girl worried for you on her accord, but she didn’t wake you up.”

“Believe me, she tried,” Ashencrane interjected. Her eyes were still shut, but she laughed when Ilta drooped her head.

“The only one who could wake you up was you.”

Elies gasped, stuttering upon feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-is that true, Ilta?”

Ilta clenched her fists, her head sinking even lower. “Shut up,” she huffed.

“Disregarding her,” Yarrow began. “I believe I could have eased up on you a bit. You were having quite the dream, after all.”

Elies ran a hand through his hair. “You could tell, then? And what was I doing? Nothing shameful, I hope!”

Yarrow flashed him a narrow smile and sat against a nearby tree, still clutching his staff. “I’ll know soon enough,” he replied. “Because you’re going to tell me all about it.”

“Where should I start?”

“Start with Oberon,” Yarrow said, his face growing stern. “From where do you know that name?”

********

“Fight me!” Ayko mashed his blade into the Wolfcat’s gnashing fangs. “I didn’t chase you so we could play keep away!”

Ayko and the Wolfcat turned their heads together when Hazelmere squeaked, her wand aimed at them both. Wind sprayed from it, causing the two to jump away from one another, the gust ripping several bushes from beneath the ground.

The Wolfcat snarled and lunged at Hazelmere, who seized her trembling wand arm with desperate strength.

Ayko sliced at the beast’s nape, nicking a few strands of its fur. “Your fight’s with me!” He growled.

The Wolfcat clamped down on Ayko’s sword when he gave it another swing, the young man planting his boot beneath its chin. It yelped and backed away, hunching down and then throwing its head into the young man’s gut.

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Ayko’s breath rasped in his throat. His sword flew from his grasp, and his vision blurred. “You bastard!” He croaked.

He held the Wolfcat’s snapping jaws with desperate strength, shoved it away, and thrust his forearm into its mouth. Blood trickled down his sleeve, and pain twisted his face, but he clenched the Wolfcat’s ear with his free hand and whirled around, holding it in place.

Ayko grinned as the Wolfcat writhed, its legs skittering through the air. He chomped its ear and lifted his flickering eyes to meet Hazelmere’s fearful ones. “It’s not going anywhere, Haze!” he said, his voice muffled. “Just let it rip!”

Hazelmere squeezed her wand arm only for it to jump from her grasp. “I-I won’t hurt you!” she stammered. “Move! Please!”

Ayko shook his head and planted his feet, clamping harder when the Wolfcat clawed at his chest. “You can never hurt me, Haze.”

“I–” Hazelmere frowned and gave him a single nod, releasing her arm.

Wind burst from Hazelmere’s wand with a screech, contorting Ayko’s face and ringing his ears. He cursed and howled as what felt like hundreds of glass shards pricked his skin— the Wolfcat’s yelps harmonized with his own, its jaws loosening along with Ayko’s. The two fell onto the snow, with Ayko falling to his knees.

The young man weakly lifted his sword and plunged it into Wolfcat’s neck as it lay on its side, its eyes dimming. He then flashed Hazelmere his thumb. “Less than a tickle!” he breathed.

“What are you doing?” Hazelmere yelped. “Get out of the way!” Wind coiled around her wand. “I still can’t disarm myself!”

“Then we’ll just have to wait it out.” Ayko laced his fingers behind his head and chuckled at her. “Wands can only cast so much.”

Hazelmere’s hand trembled. “You’ll be dead before then! I won’t forgive myself if–”

“You can’t hurt me, remember? No, I’ll stay right here.”

Hazelmere stamped her foot. “You dullard!”

Ayko’s eyes gleamed as more wind launched his way, and he clenched his muscles. A familiar sight made him dart his head, however.

Ice crept from the tree line and formed a wall between the two, shattering as the wind slammed into it. Arzen burst from the brush and hacked one of his claymores, ice crawling up Hazelmere’s wand. She yelped and reeled back her hand, dropping it and allowing it to break in half when it crashed to the ground.

Hazelmere stepped away and looked up at the armored behemoth, stumbling over her words.

“I’d say I more than redeemed myself,” Arzen said, placing his claymore onto his back. “Downed by a fruit…godsdamned disgraceful.”

Hazelmere’s eyes welled up, and she fell to her knees. “We’re both disgraceful!”

A muffled sigh echoed from Arzen’s helmet as he eyed the snapped wand before her. “It’s not a disgrace to be naive.” He palmed the top of her head. “Have you learned from this?”

Hazelmere looked up at him. “I…suppose I have.”

“And what’s that?” Arzen asked, crouching down. He glanced at Ayko, ignoring the fact that his eyes had darkened. He clicked his tongue when Hazelmere remained silent. “There’s a reason that Wolfcat wanted you, you know. Or, to be more precise, that.” He shot the broken wand another glance. “These woods are a gravesite—once home to a kingdom named Artemis Moraine.”

Ayko clutched his bloodied arm. “I’ve never heard of such horsepiss before. You sure you’re not making this up?”

Arzen nodded but didn’t spare him a glance. “Wolfcats are guardians of light, believe it or not, but they were stronger back then. Buried that kingdom alive and engulfed this land in snow and ash. Like the rubble beneath us, that wand of yours reeked of evil. Odds are a certain asshole gave you that to mess with you.”

Hazelmere looked down mournfully. “So I can’t control magic with it?” she said quietly.

“Wands control their users, not the other way around.” He rose to his feet. “Want to cast a spell? Don’t overthink it. You’re far too timid and worldly.” The behemoth gave a small chuckle. “You can at least be glad your knight in shining armor killed it.”

Ayko looked down and gasped. A single clear orb lay in the Wolfcat’s place. “It was a familiar?”

“Take it with you,” Arzen demanded. “You’ll need it as proof.”

The orb frizzled Ayko’s hair as he twirled it between his fingers. “The King is next!” he declared.

There was a newfound pep in Ayko’s step as he returned to Chestplate, with Arzen leading the way. He’d done it. He’d slain a Wolfcat, which meant he could slay the world if he so wished, though the king would be first. All he needed now was its whereabouts.

Faehome sprang from under the tree line alongside Chestplate, who sat on its steps, beaming at Ayko and Haze alike.

“You’re back,” the adventurer said. “I hope this doesn’t mean I can’t claim you as my students anymore.”

Ayko flicked the orb off his thumb, the knight snatching it out of the air.

Chestplate snickered. “Talk about one hell of a shock. I knew the girl would pull through, but you, my little novice, how’d you do it?”

“Tch!” Ayko threw back his head.

“He's the reason we won,” Hazelmere said, touching Ayko’s shoulder.

“Oh?” Chestplate raised an eyebrow.

Ayko gave Chestplate a hard look. “I beat it into submission, then stabbed it in the neck.”

Arzen sniffed and folded his arms while Chestplate laughed. “The nicks and gashes on your skin suggest some truth,” the knight said. He eyed Arzen. “Well, what do you think, runt? Are they ready?”

Arzen shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, for the love of–” Chestplate ran a hand across his bun. “Time’s a luxury we no longer have!” He rose and clapped his gauntlets together. “It has to be now, or should I say, tonight.” He placed a hand on Ayko and Hazelmere’s shoulders. “You pups are as ready as you can be, like it or not. If you die, you die.”

“Is that supposed to scare us off?” Ayko laughed. “Just tell us where to go.”

The young man staggered when Chestplate clapped him. “Spoken like a true disciple! Very well, your future awaits!”