Inquisitor Victor didn’t return the next day, or the day after, or that week. Kira soon vanished as well, leaving them with two letters from her master – one to Ash, one to Fionna.

Ash’s letter was to be opened when he was ready to absorb his first mana heart. So was Fionna’s, but the day Ash and Damien came across the crown prince, she had broken through, and Kira had apparently taken her to the auction house to receive her mana heart – an arcane one.

Fionna’s letter simply stated that she needed to work hard, keeping up with her physical training as well as her meditation. She retreated to her room that night to absorb her mana heart and was still at it a week later.

The remaining four of them continued with their training, both physical and meditative, though Ash couldn’t help but start feeling left behind. The hungry void was still there, and while Maya and the others continued to grow stronger, he was stuck at the first step of his journey to becoming a powerful mage. He began stepping away from the daily runs they did and began spending most of his time meditating beneath the Tree of Spirits, as the prince had called it.

In time, allowing his mind to slip into a meditative state became easier, as did cycling his mana. But as hours turned into days, and he spent the week meditating beneath the Tree of Spirits, the void within continued to remain ever so hungry.

It was the midst of the second week without the Inquisitor’s presence. Ash was sitting beneath the Tree of Spirits, allowing the void within to absorb as much of its white mana as possible. The air was growing colder with each passing day – the Spire of Kindling was beginning to shine for shorter hours every day. It would continue doing so throughout the cold months, then begin to shine for longer when the warm months began.

He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings when a group of soldiers stepped out from behind a patch of gold leafed ferns. He only noticed something was amiss when he heard footsteps approaching.

“And we meet again,” A familiar, cold voice reached his ears. His eyes shot open as he recognised its owner. The crown prince stood perhaps half a dozen steps away from him, with a faint smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes. “I never learned your name – I forgot to ask last time we met. My apologies,”

It took Ash about half a breath worth of time to realise the situation. He started on his feet, then quickly, though clumsily fell back on one knee. “Ash Morgan, your highness.” He replied, hoping his racing heart only sounded so loud to him.

“Morgan?” The prince tilted his head. “I don’t recognise that surname – it’s certainly not of Twilit origin.” There was a hint of confusion in his voice. He didn’t dwell on it for long, however. “It’s a bold choice to use external mana to bolster your own inner world, especially since you don’t have a mana heart yet. Who taught you this?”

Ash gulped. He didn’t dare inform the crown prince that he was mistaken. Powerful people behaved unexpectedly when they were informed of their mistakes and misconceptions. Instead, he glossed over that comment. “Professor Maple was teaching us until he was forced to take a step back to recover, your highness.” He replied instead. His mind raced – why was the prince here? Why now? How could Ash remove himself from here?

“Of course it’s him…” The prince chuckled. “Miss Hawken and the others have already received their mana hearts, have they not?”

“They have, your highness.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice fully. He was left behind, the only one without a mana heart, the only one without a proper mana colour, the only one still struggling with the first step.

“You needn’t kneel.” The prince stepped closer, placed his hand on his arm right below his shoulder, and pulled him up on his feet. “The Twilit never knelt to my family – which makes me wonder why you did; all three times we have met.” His expression couldn’t be read. He had mastered hiding his emotions.

A feeling of dread loomed over him. “I’m not of Twilit descent, your highness. I was born in a small village, far from Bhaile-Morn, to a farmer and his wife.” He braced himself for confusion, which would then possibly be followed by anger. Powerful people didn’t like to be told they were wrong after all.

Crown Prince Cedric tilted his head to the side. His golden eyes glimmered with curiosity. “That’s an odd lie to tell.”

A hint of fear surfaced within him. His heart skipped a beat. He took a step back as he tried to protest. “I’m not-“

“You misunderstand.” The prince chuckled, somewhat amused. “You should be more offended that I would accuse of you of being stupid enough to tell such an obvious lie to my face.” He pointed at his hair. “But your parents… they were no farmers in a remote town. They were powerful mages and sorcerers.” He narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “Which makes me question why they would ever lie to their own son – let him believe he’s nothing more than some country bumpkin.”

Golden mana flowed to his fingertips. Three strands of various brightnesses formed a simple weave – a short blade that extended from his nail. The prince reached forward and cut a finger’s length of hair off of Ash. “There aren’t many Twilit left, you are the only one I know of who isn’t at least a few centuries old.” He paused; his lips curled up with a mischievous smile. “Unless you’re that good at hiding yourself.”

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“No, I’m not-“ Ash tried to reassure the prince.

“I’m joking,” The prince clarified with an amused expression. He tied the lock of hair he cut with a strand of mana, then put it in his pocket. “I’ll try and use this to find your lineage.” He raised his gaze towards the branches of the Tree of Spirits. “Had this been a different time, I would have sponsored you, Ash Morgan, because your lineage promises you great power. But I can’t – not without risking retaliation from political adversaries. But I can do one thing to help you.”

Ash didn’t even get a chance to speak before the Prince condensed his mana in his palm. A golden orb so bright and powerful that it could have rivalled the light of the Kindling. “A gift from me, so you may stand besides Damien in his time of need.” He pressed his hand against Ash’s chest, forcing the orb of mana to sink in.

A warmth spread throughout his body, hotter than the bright light of the Spire of Kindling, and more vibrant than even Princess Aoife’s mana. Ash stumbled back, the only thing that prevented his fall was the Tree of Spirits he leaned against. His muscles went limp as the prince’s mana spread across his body.

“Don’t tell anyone about this little gift though,” Prince Cedric softly spoke with a mischievous smile. “Use that mana to fill the void – I think it should be enough.” With that said, he turned around and left. His entourage of imperial guards followed after him, and soon Ash was left alone beneath the Tree of Spirits.

With the prince’s vibrant, powerful mana still flowing within his body, Ash sat down and closed his eyes. It was warm and soothing, and surprising easy to absorb. It wasn’t like the Tree of Spirits’ white mana where only a few strands of it flowed into the void – the golden mana joined the vortex and quickly began to flow into the hungry void.

Not even a dozen breaths of time had passed before he felt like he was slowly getting full. It felt as if he had eaten enough, and couldn’t anymore. His eyes shot wide open, he looked down, towards his abdomen. The vortex was there, but its centre wasn’t pitch black emptiness. It was grey, and almost overflowing as the last strands of the prince’s golden mana flowed into it, slowly being absorbed and changed into a dull, dark grey.

The vortex slowly dissipated as there was nothing that craved more mana, leaving a dull grey sphere of loosely concentrated mana. He placed his hand there. He was ready to receive a mana heart.

Excitement overcame his wariness of the crown prince. He leapt on his feet and dashed towards the High Tower. He needed to find Damien and the others, he needed to find the Inquisitor to let him know, so they could go and get him a mana heart as well!

His legs carried him to the dorms, where everyone else was. Hearing him come through the door with little care to being quiet as he usually was and somewhat out of breath, they ran out of their rooms with worried expressions. Only when they saw the bright, excited smile on his face did Maya immediately understand.

“You’re ready?” She asked wide eyed. Ash nodded – he hadn’t even needed to say a word. Damien seemed relieved as he congratulated him. “You’ve outdone yourself. Just yesterday you seemed so far away – how did you do it?”

“Luck, I suppose.” It wasn’t technically a lie, and certainly better than telling him the full truth. He cleared his throat. “I need a mana heart, but the auction house isn’t an option for me.” He grimaced, seeing their confusion slowly turn into understanding.

“Oh.” Damien looked away, while Maya pursed her lips. “Right…” A fire lit in her eyes as she turned to the door. “Let’s go visit dad – he’s probably buried under paperwork in his office. He needs to know about you being ready, and I need to talk to him about something.” She grabbed Ash’s arm, then shot Damien an almost angry glance. “Do I need to drag you along as well?”

The young warrior noble hurried to the door, following Ash and Maya. Passing through the crowded hallways, they soon reached the spiral staircase leading up.

“Is this a good idea?” Ash asked, stopping in his tracks as Maya stepped onto the stairwell. They were warned, repeatedly, not to go to the higher floors. The second floor was all they were allowed to explore, and for good reason, Professor Maple had explained – though he neglected to tell the reason.

“Of course!” Maya pulled him up the first step. “I’m allowed to go up, since he’s my dad.” She smirked like she had bested the rules. Damien let out a sigh. “The Inquisitor is your father, yes. The same can’t be said for Ash and I. I think it would be best for the two of u to wait here-“

“You worry too much!” Maya exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Fionna and I visited him a few times since the classes began, and she’s not his daughter either. The rules exist, but as long as we have a good reason no one will even bat an eye.”

For some reason, her words didn’t do much to reassure Ash. Despite his uncertainty though, his excitement won. “Fine, let’s hurry though.” He relented, and followed Maya up the stairs. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Damien hurry after them too, though he seemed quite nervous about all this.

The third floor of the High Tower was starkly different from the second. The lavish decorations, the carpets lining the floors and the crowds that were prevalent on the lower floors were nowhere to be seen here. Instead, the marble floored hallways carried the echoes of their footsteps as they made their way towards the Inquisitor’s office. They didn’t speak much, as their voices sounded too loud in these silent, almost solemn hallways.

Maya led them through the maze-like hallways of the third floor, eventually coming to a stop by a thick wooden door. There was no nameplate, or any indicator that this was an Inquisitor’s office, and probably so for good reason.

She knocked twice, waited for a moment, then pushed the handle down and opened the door.

“The tablet needs to be studied-“ Professor Maple’s voice echoed in the hallways. The elderly professor was standing before the Inquisitor’s desk, both palms resting on its wooden surface as he leaned in. Inquisitor Victor raised his hand, causing the Professor to pause.

“Maya.” He said coldly, “What are you doing here?”

His cold gaze turned to Ash and Damien. “Neither of you are allowed on the third floor. You better have a good reason.”