Colkirk was once a town and not a particularly unique one at that. It was of middling size, built beside a lake, and the villagers there lived and died through fishing. Its sole claim to fame was its lord, the youngest son of a minor noble.

This lord was a pitiful mage, sent to the town to "protect" it rather than embarrass his family further with his failings. He married and had a child, putting aside any notions of returning home to raise his son, Elvor.

Elvor grew up playing in the lake beside Colkirk, acting more like a commoner than a noble. He had no illusions about his place in the world and came to love his home, his friends, and his neighbors. But above all else, Elvor loved nature and cherished those summer days swimming and fishing above all else. Only winter drew his ire, as he hated the cold more than anything.

When Elvor came of age, his father put aside his pride and returned to his family. He begged that his beloved child might become a mage, and after months, they relented. Elvor attended the Academy, and soon, a truth became apparent. Whatever talent the father had lacked must have gone to the son.

Elvor was a water mage and demonstrated unusual sensitivity in sensing both water mana and the physical liquid. He had a particular talent for detecting oncoming rain and snow storms and soon asked himself a simple question.

"If I can sense the weather, can I also affect it?"

It took years for Elvor to answer that question with a resounding "yes." He crafted magic that allowed him to repel, redirect, and even generate storms of his own using nothing but his mana. He learned to twist the weather to his will and, for his efforts, became known as "The Crashing Storm," a title he despised.

As he aged, Elvor honed his skills. He refined his spells, creating means of warding off floods, irrigating crops, and combating droughts. And, rather than horde his secrets, Elvor sought as many students as possible to spread this knowledge far and wide.

While the Archmagus had spent time instructing at the Academy, he eventually returned home. Colkirk became a bastion of learning, trade, and culture as mages flocked to train under the Archmagus. Travelers made the growing town their home, but underneath this prosperity lurked an uncomfortable truth.

Colkirk had become dependent on their Archmagus. Elvor drew in travelers. Elvor sheltered them from the ravages of harsh winters and devastating storms. Nearly every aspect of the town pivoted on his every action. It raised uncomfortable implications of how it would fare when he was gone.

And then, the worst happened. Elvor died, leaving behind a nearly unmatched legacy and shoes impossible to fill.

The people of Colkirk mourned as much for their doomed future as they did their lost guardian. They knew their city would follow the Archmagus to the grave, but even in death, Elvor would not let his home suffer.

Somehow, Elvor had created a piece of magic that continued on his tireless work, as if his spirit watched over the city.

For two centuries, Colkirk has not experienced a winter. Not a single flake of snow has touched its streets. The bitter chill that blows across Ferris bypasses the city, and it remains as warm as a spring day, even in the harshest blizzards. Even rain is rare, as only the lightest and weakest storms would bypass whatever shielding Elvor had crafted.

In the years since, visitors continued to flock to Colkirk, desperate to decipher Elvor's final work. So far, none have succeeded. Most agree he must have cast a spell of impossible range and complexity, but none can figure out how. No magic, no matter how perfectly cast, can last forever.

I had no illusions of being the one to uncover his secrets. My knowledge of water magic was rudimentary at best, and I have no understanding of weather magic whatsoever. But Colkirk was worth seeing for two reasons beyond just scholarly interest.

First, it was a piece of our history. A tangible, real place with observable magic rather than a passage about some long-dead Archmagus and their centuries-old discovery.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

And second, while I might not find something worthwhile, a certain water mage in our group could feel differently. Simon had a far less set path than any of us, and maybe seeing what his element was capable of at the highest levels would light a fire under him.

That was why I had quietly suggested the city as our first stop to Leon days earlier when he first proposed the idea of a group trip.

The Sunrise Way was never a quiet road. Even in the dead of winter, you would never walk alone as it was the main "artery" from our eastern border to the capital. However, after leaving Volaris behind, there had been stretches where we might see only a handful of other travelers.

But those sparse traders and wandering mages paled compared to the sheer mass of people visible as we approached Colkirk.

Camps cluttered each side of the road, starting nearly a half-mile from the city's edge. The first few consisted of small, single-person tents surrounding dim fires. However, as Colkirk drew closer, those camps grew more elaborate.

Single-person tents gave way to canvas and wood structures with tables and chairs visible past hanging flaps. Trade carts appeared half-unloaded as merchants and traders moved their goods to stalls and shops. I could hear a hundred voices shouting to anyone who passed, offering deals on almost any ware imaginable.

I almost wanted to stop, if only to take a closer look at a few of the stalls, but Leon barely slowed, appearing eager to enter the city itself. We carried on, though the dense crowds forced us to dismount and lead our horses on foot.

Unlike Volaris and Aresford, Colkirk had no walls or strict borders. Instead, we passed an unspoken boundary where hastily erected campsites and temporary shops transitioned into permanent homes. However, even these were unlike any I had seen in my life.

None of Colkirk's buildings looked truly separate from one another. Homes blended together with ground-floor terraces joined to their neighbors. Overhead, wooden bridges and walkways linked second-story balconies, forming decks large enough to fit ten or more people without issue.

I saw decorations hanging everywhere as if the city was ready for a festival. Glass bulbs the size of my fist sat on strings that hung above doors, encircled the ragers overhead, and linked wooden beams set along the sides of the streets. Each of these orbs glowed with ethereal light of every color imaginable.

Flowers grew from vines that crawled along the walls and bridges, lending a bright, pleasant smell to the air, which reminded me of springtime. Petals fell in a gentle breeze, and I watched one bud bloom a hundred times faster than any natural plant, blossoming a brilliant red in seconds.

Reliefs worked directly into the sides of buildings stood out, so lifelike and intricate that only magic could have formed them. Elsewhere, I saw paintings of landscapes, including one I realized must be the view of Colkirk depicted from several hundred feet into the air.

I almost laughed at the strangest realization that ran through me at that moment. Becoming an Archmagus felt like a more realistic goal than obtaining even one-tenth of this artistic talent.

Leon led us through narrow city streets, breaking into an open, roughly rectangular section. Nearby, I saw a three-story inn stitched with an adjoining restaurant and a stable jutting out from the side. Leon must have seen the same thing as he moved towards it in a straight line, weaving his way through milling, half-drunk people along the way.

I sat in the back of our group as Leon spoke to the clearly intoxicated man running the stables, half-listening as he worked out a deal. Gold changed hands before we proceeded into the inn proper.

Again, Leon took the lead and again paid what appeared to be too much gold for lodgings for the next few days. The noble had sprung for separate rooms, which I suspected he only got thanks to luck. Colkirk was busiest during bitter winters, when nobles came to escape the cold and wealthy merchants came to fleece said nobles.

Finally, I was alone in my room. Or rather, alone with my feline friend.

The cat jumped onto my massive bed, rotating on the pillow before lying down and closing his eyes. I examined him briefly, then set to work unpacking and changing.

I spent about ten minutes deciding where to hide my few valuable possessions. Eventually, I resigned myself to carrying my wand on my person and stored the rest underneath my bed. When I had the chance, I would try to figure out some kind of "security" spell, but until then, I would have to hope thieves were rare in Colkirk.

With that done, I exchanged my rough traveling clothes for pristine dark pants, a high-quality shirt, and well-shined boots. It was an outfit that Girem had provided earlier, and I noted with some satisfaction that it was a little too small around the chest and shoulders and a hair too short at the arms and legs.

Cat opened his eyes as I turned in front of the mirror, examining my appearance.

"What do you think?" I asked dryly, holding both arms and smiling. "Do I look like the sort of upstanding young man a beautiful ice mage would like?"

Cat yawned, standing up and spinning again before slumping back into the same place on the pillow. His eyes drooped, and I felt a brief temptation to join him on the bed as a wave of sleepiness hit me. I managed to push it down, knowing that rest could wait.

The others waited downstairs, cleaned up, and ready for an evening of exploration. Even Sophia had changed into more casual attire, though she stood separate from the others with her arms crossed and a flat expression on her face.

I smiled at Amelia as I walked closer, trying not to stare at her and instead focusing on Leon.

"Took you long enough!" Leon shouted across the foyer, "We were about to leave without you!"

I chuckled, "A good thing you waited, then. I doubt I would have found you out there."

Amelia leaned closer, "I bet you've got a way to track us down. You practice that sensing trick often enough."

"Not yet, no," I said, "Give me a few months, though."

Leon clapped one hand on my shoulder and gestured with the other towards the door, "Nope, none of that. Exploring and relaxing now, and magic later. Is that clear?"

Amelia and Simon nodded earnestly, and Leon glanced between Sophia and me. His sister rolled her eyes before pointedly looking away, and I chuckled before shrugging one shoulder.

"Good enough!" Leon concluded, then walked out of the door without another word, ready to experience the last resting place of an Archmagus.