It hurt to grin, but Ayko beamed at his new teacher regardless, the foliage spinning as he jumped to his feet.

He clutched the side of his face, stumbling behind Chestplate while Hazelmere held onto his free arm.

"Do fight through it," Chestplate said, glancing from the corner of his eye. "There's a time and place for pain. That Ursa will be back now that we've pissed it off."

Ayko slowly nodded, reluctantly agreeing. He'd been outmatched, as much as he hated to admit it. "I'll finish it off some other time," he declared.

"Speaking like a tough guy doesn't make you one," Chestplate replied.

The throbbing pain in Ayko's head grew with each step he took, with Hazelmere's arms buckling as he leaned against her. His vision blurred, but the outlines of trees grew dense in number, as did the bushes. Accompanying the growing foliage brushing against his scuffed legs was an old hunter's cabin that rose into the young man's line of sight.

Ayko squinted, sneering at the assortment of splintered walls, smothered by trees whose naked branches etched cracks into the windows.

Chestplate stopped at the cabin's steps, placing his hands on his hips. "A charming abode, is it not?"

Hazelmere tilted her head. "It's…quite lovely."

“Ha!” Chestplate bellowed. "Is that so? And what do you see?"

The half-elf's lips trembled, but she spoke when Chestplate nodded. "I see a cottage—stone, covered in moss and surrounded by water." Her nose twitched when she sniffed the air. "I also smell…incense."

"Nice!" Chestplate clapped his gauntlets together. "And you, my little novice?"

Ayko squinted again, wincing in pain as he did so. "I see a shit hole."

"You and me both!" Chestplate laughed. He strutted up the steps. "Conjured this place myself; Faehome, I like to call it. Everyone perceives it differently—some see a cabin, others a humble little cottage, and some don't see anything, like my friend over there," he said, gesturing at Arzen, who stood off to the side.

"Hmm?" Hazelmere shot the brooding giant a glance. "But why?"

Chestplate whirled around, placing a hand on the front door's knob. "It's simple, my dear. He doesn't want anything. Nothing he doesn't already have, anyway." He smirked. "Now…" he began, swinging open the door. "Who will enter first?"

Ayko furrowed his brow while Hazelmere gasped. A black void stared back at him, and an icy breeze flowed from it, blanketing his skin in goosebumps.

"She's snippy, but she won't hurt you," Chestplate said. He stepped to the side and held out a hand.

Ayko swallowed hard but squared his shoulders. "Don't have to tell me twice," he said, placing a hand atop Hazelmere's. His friend released him from her grasp, a murmur falling from her lips when he stepped forward. The cold gnawed at his skin when he stumbled up the steps, making him tremble when the darkness enveloped him.

"Share with her your thoughts and desires," Chestplate said behind him. His words were followed by the thump of the door slamming shut.

A wisp burned a hole in the darkness, followed by another and two more, their glow revealing the candles that were their bodies. The square room also lacked furniture, save for the table beneath the burning columns of white wax.

Ayko raised an eyebrow and looked around, scratching his head. Share with her your thoughts and desires, Chestplate had said. Whatever that meant.

He leaned against the table and drummed his fingers before heaving a sigh. "Tell me how to make this work! Anyone at all!"

"Is that your desire?"

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Ayko jumped away from the table and darted his head around. The splintered floor quaked, but he didn't lose his footing. "Who the hell?"

"Answer me."

The young man raised his eyebrows before he shook his head. "Share with her my thoughts and desires," Ayko muttered. He glanced up at the ceiling. "My desire is to leave this land forever."

"Mm." Several wooden chunks fell from the ceiling. "Why?"

Ayko paused. "Because I don't want to waste away. To die a shriveled-up husk who never did anything, who no one will remember!"

"Mm…" The floor quaked again, to which a candle blew out. "Querulous, curt, and fearful," the mysterious voice began. "You couldn't have picked a worse path for yourself."

Ayko's brow twitched. "What do you know?"

"Turn back. Embrace your so-called squalor."

Ayko clenched his fists. "Like hell, I will."

"Then you choose to die. And you've chosen that fate for everyone else."

Ayko clenched his jaw and held out his sword. "I'll stop whatever comes. Count on it!"

"A fatuous response. And meaningless."

The remaining candles turned to smoke amidst the wind's howl, and the door flung open, to which Ayko stumbled to the floor. He gasped upon landing atop the snow, his face dripping with sweat and frost puffing from his mouth with each gasp for air.

Chestplate snickered. "You've angered her." He strolled over and tugged Ayko to his feet, proceeding to wipe the snow from his cloak. "As did I when I first conjured her up." He eyed Hazelmere. "You're next, lass."

The Half-elf darted her eyes between him and Ayko, drew her brow together, and nodded. The door creaked as she gently pulled it open and slowly closed it shut, vanishing behind it.

Chestplate palmed the top of Ayko’s head. "Two silver orbs say she'll fare better than you."

"I don't gamble," Ayko said.

"We'll have to fix that."

********

Frost plumed from Elies' flaring nostrils. It hadn't been a full day, and he had already had enough of this training.

His face contorted into a frown as he eyed Yarrow, his new mentor nose-deep in a mug of ale.

"If you were gonna take us to the tavern, you could at least have bought me a drink," Elies huffed.

He looked around, his brow darkening. He was drawing a crowd from sitting with his arms outstretched, hands caressing the fiery wall before him. Unfortunately, none were women, except for Ilta, who was strutting to his chair.

The young man stammered, fidgeting in his chair, which made Yarrow snap his fingers.

"Do not lose focus," Yarrow said. "The easily distracted never prevail. It's why I brought you here, to test your will. Steel yourself like I told you."

Elies gulped and shook his head, glancing at Ilta from the corner of his eyes. The wench smirked at him, a sign she was in a playful mood—the worst one she could be in.

A ghost of a frown appeared on Yarrow's lips. He glared at her and then at the petering flames kindling Elies' palms. "Compose yourself," he said warily.

Repellum, Elies breathed, his flames growing slightly. He nearly burst into triumphant laughter, though it fell on his lips when Ilta stopped at his chair.

Horsepiss, Elies cursed to himself, pressing his lips together. The one time I don't want her around.

He lowered his head, allowing Yarrow to speak for him, the old adventurer flashing her a plastic smile.

Yarrow raised his glass. "Darling! Looking for some fun?"

A sneer contorted the wench's face. "Not with you."

Yarrow darted his eye between her and Elies. "The boy is mine for safekeeping. I'm afraid I can't part with him."

Ilta's eyes darkened, the wench seemingly annoyed that someone would deny her. "Only one of us can wrap him around our finger," she argued.

She sat at Elies' left, eyes following the nervous bead of sweat dripping down his cheek. "You have a thing for old men now?" Ilta asked, leaning towards him.

Elies balled his hands into fists, banging them on the counter. "Gods no!" he barked, turning to face her. He looked down at his hands, his stomach churning when the flames turned to faint trails of smoke.

"Fool boy!" Yarrow growled. He thumped Elies' head with his staff. "How weak-willed can you be?"

Elies winced, rubbing the throbbing knot on his head. "She's bewitching, you know that!" He looked away from her. "She also gets under my skin like nothing else…"

Elies' voice trailed off as Yarrow cupped his chin, the old adventurer staring into Ilta's cold, vacant eyes. He didn't so much as blink before a smile lifted the corners of his lips.

"Very well," Yarrow finally said. "Ilta, Elies will have some fun with you!"