Sion awakes with a start. He sits up in the soft bed his body has sunken into. Covering his body is a velvet blanket, wrapped tightly to his body. He slowly and gently removes it from himself. Once his body has been freed, Sion slides off the mattress and stretches. As he stretches his arms and his back, he can feel himself shaking off all the drowsiness. He continues to stretch out the rest of his body. As he stretches his arms across his body, the large wooden doors are pushed open. A stoic and cold-faced butler walks inside. He and Sion stare at each other, both in confused surprise. The butler cracks first as his stony expression falls away.

“Huh? Sir… Sion, was it? You’re already awake?” He’s been caught off guard to find a guest who woke alongside the servants.

“Of course I am! You can’t waste the daylight! What are you doing coming into a room while somebody is sleeping like that!?” Sion has been caught off guard by the duties of a noble’s staff unknown to him, and has begun probing for a motive in the butler.

“It’s my job! I was to wake you and prepare you for the day! And what do you mean ‘waste the daylight!?’ You haven’t opened the curtains or anything!” The butler has begun to raise his voice at Sion.

From the hall, a young maid appears behind the butler. She made no noise as she approached. She strikes at the back of the butler’s neck.

“Stop being so rowdy so early in the morning.”

The butler falls forward and onto the floor. The maid looks up at Sion, freezes for a moment, then slinks away quickly. Sion looks at the fallen butler and begins to move closer to him. He drops to one knee and begins to try and shake the butler awake. As he shakes the butler, the maid appears once more, now carrying Sion’s clothes. She has a smile on her face and her posture has changed to appear demure. She hands Sion his clothing.

“My, Sir Sion, what a surprise to see you so early. Good morning to you.” She bows as Sion takes his clothes from her.

“Good morning, miss. Can you explain what’s going on?” Sion returns to shaking the butler, who the maid feigns shock at seeing.

“Oh my, what a ghastly thing to see so early in the morning! Whoever could have done this?” Sion stops shaking and looks up at the maid.

“Miss, there’s no point in pretending.” The maid ignores him.

“Once you’re dressed, I’ll take you to the training grounds. In the meantime, I’ll call for somebody to take care of him.” She gestures towards the fallen butler. Sion nods and begins to remove his pajamas, revealing his toned muscles. The maid is shocked at his sudden stripping and dispenses with her reserved persona entirely.

“Ok, stop. The first thing to know about polite society is that you can’t be stripping in front of people all of a sudden. Why did you even think that would be appropriate?” Sion thinks to himself.

“I never thought about it, I guess I just got used to doing it.”

“What were you doing to ‘get used to it?’”

“Teaching kids to swim and helping them bathe, I guess.” The maid looks tired of this already as she holds back a retort.

“Ok, you change, I’ll take this guy somewhere to rest.” The maid lifts the butler onto her shoulder and carries him off.

She shuts the door behind her as she leaves Sion. Sion quickly finishes changing. Soon after, he hears a knock at the door. As he goes to grab the handle and open it, the maid pushes them open herself. She looks at Sion, examining him.

“Ok, good, follow me.” She walks out from the room and Sion follows. As they walk, Sion looks down at her.

“Miss, what’s your name?” She looks up at him.

“Theyni.”

“Miss Theyni, can you explain what your job is to me?” Theyni looks slightly confused.

“Sure? As a maid of the Dracabanan royal family, my job is to attend to the master’s needs, his family’s needs, and his guests’ needs, as well as maintain the castle. Why are you asking?”

“That man came in and I didn’t know why, but he said it was his job.”

“Got it. Do you know your schedule for the day?” Sion shakes his head. “His Majesty is having you train in the sword, and in magic today, and then receive instruction in manners starting tomorrow.”

“Why would they spend time making me use a sword?”

“Do you not use one? It must’ve been the prime minister then. Bet he thought you needed to have a sword and look proper even if it isn’t helping.” They turn a corner into another hall. “Although, you only have a week and you didn’t know what a butler was until this morning, so it might all be pointless.” They walk outside into a large stone covered area. “Ok, you’re here. I’m leaving.” As Theyni begins to return inside, Sion turns to face her and lowers his head slightly.

“Miss Theyni, thank you for bringing me here.” Theyni doesn’t respond or turn back, but waves to Sion as she leaves.

The training grounds are wide, but enclosed by walls on all sides. At each wall is an entrance. Three of those entrances are grand doorways, with the one remaining entrance being a simplistic gate set in the wall. The gate is opposite the door Sion entered from, and as he glances through it, he sees another stone wall a ways past it. There are several soldiers in ornate armor decorated with the golden dragon head already training. They either practice swinging their swords or practice stabbing their spears. Standing apart from them is an unarmored man holding a sword down towards the ground with another at his hip. The man has short and neatly trimmed white hair and a white beard. When Sion sees the man, he is reminded of the village Elder. From just a quick look, Sion can tell that this man’s strength far outstrips the soldiers even in his old age.

Sion approaches the lone old man. Once he nears him, the old man turns and eyes Sion up and down.

“You must be that boy Sion. I was getting tired of waiting.” The old man throws the sword in his hands to Sion as he draws the blade at his hip. “I’m General Shard. His Majesty King Rihtwis told me to put you through the wringer.” As Sion grabs the sword, he realizes that powerful magic has been cast on it. However, before he can inspect it and without any explanation or warning, General Shard begins his training.

General Shard slashes towards Sion’s upper arm. Sion twists his upper body and thrusts his palm towards the blade. However, the old general is too quick for Sion. The edge of the sword slams into Sion’s arm, then quickly smacks his other hand still in motion. General Shard looks at Sion with disappointment.

“Use that sword, boy. I gave it to you for a reason.”

Sion thrusts forward with the tip of his blade. General Shard looks unimpressed as he knocks the blade off course and counters with his own thrust. He pushes the tip of his sword into Sion’s sternum and pushes him to the ground. General Shard looks down at him.

“How artless. What a pathetic attack, boy. Is that really the best you can do? Make this worth my time, boy.”

Sion deftly jumps back up and brandishes the sword. He walks towards General Shard, staring at him straight on. The general looks relaxed as Sion approaches him. Sion takes a step closer, then slides himself behind the general. He takes a swing at the general’s side. Without even turning his head, the general parries Sion’s attack. He then redirects the swing to the ground, smacking Sion’s head on the way down, knocking him to the ground. He turns to look down at Sion.

“Is that big body of yours all you have? Are you all muscle, boy? If this is all there is to you, then quit. Give up and chase around goblins if you want to fight.”

Sion throws his sword up at General Shard. The general clicks his tongue and knocks the sword away. He then jerks his sword near his face. Sion is holding his body up by his hands, swinging his foot into the general’s head as he spins his body back upright. The general braces against the blow using the flat of his blade pressed against his other arm. The force of the blow pushes General Shard tens of centimeters away. As the two stand up and straighten themselves out in preparation, General Shard begins to laugh heartily. He laughs so loudly that he distracts the attention of the soldiers who paid the two of them no heed before.

“Where have you been hiding that, boy!? What a good kick, boy! You’ve gotten this old man excited! Come at me!”

Sion begins to run towards the general. The general smiles wildly as he watches the approach. He enters a defensive stance and waits. Once Sion gets close enough, he leaps towards General Shard, knee pushed forward. The general jabs at the airborne Sion, attempting to stop him short with superior reach. However, Sion pulls back his knee and grabs the blade. Although the blade has been stopped, Sion keeps moving with incredible speed. His body slams into the general’s and they both begin to fall. The general falls on his back as Sion rolls forward off of him, releasing the sword. They both stand up and General Shard looks at Sion.

“What a cheeky brat you are. Grabbing my sword like that. Not even having a plan for your next move…” General Shard is still smiling.

The old general dashes towards Sion. Before Sion can react, faster than he can move, General Shard slashes at Sion’s head. Sion can feel the blade collide with his head. The blow is heavy. Far heavier than any of Sion’s own attacks. Sion was reminded of how monstrous the gulf between them truly was in a single blow. And then he falls into darkness.

Theyni looks at the sun and sees it hanging high above. She quickly finishes her current task and begins to return to the training ground to collect Sion. As she opens the door to the training ground, she sees the royal guard bunched up together, not training. From an unseen voice, she hears a wailing old man.

“Sion boy! How could I have done this!?” Theyni runs up to the soldiers in a panic. She pats the back of one of the soldiers to get his attention.

“What happened here? What’s going on?” The soldier turns around and takes off his helm to reveal his crying face.

“The general… They were just training, but then… The general hit the boy in the head! But please don’t blame the general, Theyni! He blames himself enough already! Blame us! We should’ve stopped him!” Theyni doesn’t respond as she pushes through the soldiers to reach Sion. She slips between the large and sturdy armors, squeezing between men in silence. She soon finds the source of the grieving cries.

General Shard cradles Sion’s head in his lap, his sword beside them. Blood drips from his head and onto the general’s pants as it flows towards the stone ground. Sion’s eyes are closed and his body limp. The general is now little more than a weeping old man as he looks at Sion’s face. Theyni is surprised when she sees the two.

“Grandfather?” General Shard looks up at Theyni. He speaks between his sobs.

“Theyni dear, I’ve killed the boy. I got so excited when I saw how much potential he had. I should’ve nurtured it. But instead I snuffed it out like this. I’ve killed a guest of the royal family, my own student, and my granddaughter’s friend… What a failure of a soldier and a man I am.” Theyni falls to her knees next to them, misty-eyed. She places her hand on Sion’s, then sighs.

“Grandfather, he’s alive. I can feel his pulse. What are you talking about?” General Shard touches Sion’s neck.

“Oh! Greatmother Prodovita, thank you for blessing this young sprout and protecting him! Theyni dear, it’s a miracle!” Theyni sighs more loudly as she places her hands above Sion’s body.

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“I don’t think it was a miracle, Grandfather. I think you just knocked him unconscious.” Theyni’s hands begin to glow with a warm light.

“No. He’s been out for over a minute already. Any fighter worth their salt would’ve gotten up by now.” The light covers Sion’s body and sinks into him as the blood stops flowing. Sion sits up and looks around, confused.

“What happened? I saw darkness and now I’m on the ground. What was that?” Theyni answers, as the general is in no state to.

“My grandfather hit you in the head and knocked you out. You should be fine now.” Sion still looks puzzled.

“Knock out?” Theyni looks exasperated as she screams inside, but answers him calmly.

“If you get hit in the head too hard you might fall over.” She moves in closer and speaks quietly, so that no one else can hear her. “It’s what happened to the butler this morning.”

“I see.” Sion stands up, and both General Shard and Theyni follow after him. The general places a hand on Sion’s shoulder.

“Boy, you have no talent with the sword. But I would still be proud to teach you all I can.” Sion looks at the general.

“Thank you sir!”

“Now, boy, let’s return to our spar.” They both begin to stretch out their bodies as the soldiers disperse. However, before they can clash, Theyni interrupts.

“No, let’s not. Shouldn’t he rest for a while after getting knocked out? I’d say just let him rest until the head mage arrives.” The general looks conflicted, but relents.

“Fine. Sion boy, take the day off.”

“Yes sir!” General Shard walks away with a grumble, the soldiers saluting him as he passes by. As Sion begins to leave, Theyni calls out to him.

“Hold on!” Sion turns back to look at her. “I want to apologize for my grandfather.” Sion looks confused.

“Why? What did he do?”

“Well, he’s just… a lot. I can’t imagine it being easy to deal with out of nowhere like that.”

“He’s a very good teacher. It’s not a problem at all.” Theyni looks relieved.

“That’s good. Anyway, what are you going to do with your break?” Sion thinks for a moment.

“I have business with the bishop.” Theyni is surprised.

“The Bishop of Clea? What sort of business could you have with him?”

“I was given a letter of introduction for him.” Theyni’s surprise has only swelled.

“Wow! I heard rumors that the bishop doesn’t have many guests or keep much company. Are you actually some sort of big shot?” Sion shakes his head.

“No, it was given to me by the priest of my village. He comes to Clea often, so he’d get worried if nobody had seen me. And I need to accept his goodwill properly anyway.”

“It would be bad if your family got worried. Will you send them a letter about what’s happened?”

“That’s a good idea. Thanks.”

“No problem. You should probably head out now if you want to get to the cathedral and back before the head mage gets here. Do you know which building it is?”

“Yes. Thanks for your help, Miss Theyni.”

“It's my job after all.” Theyni smiles at Sion as he turns to leave.

Sion, for the first time, steps onto the main street of Clea. The city is bustling at midday, people crowding the streets. To Sion, such a large gathering is unfounded. As people move from storefront to storefront, someone quickly replaces them. If Sion’s eyes were less powerful, he may very well have seen the crowd as throbbing but stationary. Sion watches the people with awe. He remains in this mesmerized state for a few moments.

As the people slowly move about the street, Sion begins to weave through them. He slips between the tiny gaps in the people undeterred. Stepping lightly, unnoticed by all. Sion walks past the stone buildings, each with their own dash of color, both gaudy and slight. Before a city Clea is a fortress. It is strong. It is tight. It is connected. But also, it is dull. The buildings are all the same gray and barren template, with only minimal additions for individuality. They are unvarnished and practical, stalwart and cold. Sion enters a large clearing with only a few elderly civilians around and an abundance of flowerbeds, a rarity in such a dense city as Clea. Sion takes a deep breath. Before him is Clea Cathedral.

The building is dissimilar to every other. It is imposing and grand. The sole place sans the castle that stands alone among the city. It rises above the houses and the stores, its walls gleaming with the color of gold. At the front entrance of the church, the face of the wall stretches further and points to the sky. Embedded in the face is a silver star, each point connected by a golden ring and enclosed by a larger one, the symbol of the church. Behind the pointed face is a dome in the ceiling above the sanctuary, topped with a finial mimicking a flower. Branching off from the golden building are two smaller wings only half as tall as the main hall. Although similarly plain, the wings still far surpass the normal buildings in size. The entrance of the cathedral is massive and daunting, towering above any person. Flanking the door on either side is large stained glass depicting a figure. The left depicts a fair woman with light green hair growing a field of flowers from nothing. The right depicts a dark-skinned man with dark green hair surrounded by an emerging forest. The church building is, unlike the rest of the city, designed with grandeur in mind. In the case that Clea was to serve its duty as a bastion and a shelter for the people of Dracabana, the church was to be their reprieve from the disaster that befell them. It is a flower of Dracabana growing amidst a battlefield.

The doors to the church are large and made of a dark wood. They hang open, carefully positioned not to cover the stained glass. Sion takes a step inside. As he crosses the threshold, the air around him changes. Still. Serene. The world becomes silent, almost eerily so. Sion can feel something wrapping around him, but can see nothing, even with his eyes. He feels a whisper on the air, but can hear nothing. However, strangely, Sion is not unsettled. As he takes another step forward, like a weakening grip, the feeling disappears.

Sion walks down the aisle, walking past near empty rows of pews. The only parishoners at this hour are the elderly who can no longer work. They hardly take notice of Sion as he walks past them. Sion approaches a man in priest robes sitting with a gentle smile on his face. The priest looks up at Sion and begins to talk with a relaxing tone.

“Young man, do you need something from me?”

“Yes sir, I’m looking for the bishop.”

“The bishop?” Although still smiling, the priest looks surprised. “May I ask the purpose of your visit?”

“I’ve come with a letter from Father Cynde to the bishop, sir.” The priest scans Sion’s face, then nods.

“I see. I believe Bishop Erd is tending to the flowers. I’ll take you to the garden.” The priest stands up and begins to walk.

He guides Sion through a side passage that leads behind the sanctuary. The hall is well lit, sunlight coming through the many windows. They walk in silence. They quickly emerge into an open space enclosed by walls. Sion can see a door shut closed in one of the walls, presumably leading back out into the city. In the center of the space is a large tree. Surrounding the tree is an incredible number of flowers. They come in all colors, arranged neatly so that no one color overpowers the others. Just barely visible behind the tree, a thin old man wearing an apron is hunched over the flowers. The priest stops where he and Sion stand and begins to speak.

“Your Excellency Father Erd, I’ve brought a young one who wishes to speak with you.” The old man stands and emerges from behind the tree. He looks at Sion before he speaks. His voice is gentle and soft.

“Father Blost.” The old man walks towards the pair, his arms crossed behind his back. He stands dignified in front of Sion. Sion bows his head as he introduces himself.

“Your Excellency, my name is Sion. I’m from the village ministered to by Father Cynde. He gave me a letter of introduction addressed to you.” Sion takes the letter from his bag and hands it to Bishop Erd. The old bishop takes the letter and opens it, barely inspecting Cynde’s seal holding it closed. He reads the first few lines and chuckles softly to himself. He begins to read the letter aloud, his voice now backed with the power of a sermon.

“Sion, although this is a letter for His Excellency Father Erd, I have asked him to read it aloud to you. I expected my time with you before your departure to be cut short by your father, and so I wrote my message for you here:

Your Excellency, Sion is one of my beloved students. At the behest of myself and his parents, he has traveled beyond the bounds of our little village and come to Clea to continue his studies. He is curious and often shows wisdom and restraint beyond his years. He has worked himself harder than any other child I have had the pleasure to teach. He is as dedicated to those around him as our own clergy. I do not fear for him, for I know he will get the results he desires. However, at the same time, I cannot help but worry for him. He throws himself wholeheartedly into his work and will work so hard to help others, but I cannot help but fear that he will neglect himself. Although his talent and effort are so great, Sion is still young and immature and in need of guidance.

Your Excellency, I beseech you to watch over this young bud, as you had for me in my youth. I ask you to support him while he learns in Clea. Whether he finds himself in need of a place to escape to, support in his studies, or instruction in faith, I humbly request that you nurture him however you can.” Bishop Erd returns the letter to Sion then places a hand on his cheek. He gives Sion’s face a gentle caress, as though he has known Sion for years and years. Still as though he were preaching, Bishop Erd continues to speak to Sion, now in his own voice.

“Young Sion, I have of course accepted Father Cynde’s request. My duty as the Bishop of Clea is to give weary souls a respite from their struggles and secure the future of the laity. There would never come a time I refused you. However, I, as an individual, also want to see the future of Father Cynde’s young sprout. My efforts for you have only redoubled. Young Sion, even as you leave for Messis, know that the doors of our cathedral and the gates of our gardens will always welcome you in.” Sion looks shocked at the old bishop.

“Your Excellency, how did you know about that? That I was leaving for Sagax Academy?” The old man laughs softly once more.

“The roots of Clea Cathedral connect all throughout the diocese. There is little that happens in this kingdom, much less this city, that I am not aware of.” A gentle smile paints Bishop Erd’s face. “We are all connected. And with that, please allow me to apprise your village of what has happened.” Sion bows his head.

“Thank you, Your Excellency.” Sion looks at the flowers and the dirt covering Bishop Erd’s apron. “Can I help you with the flowers?” Bishop Erd pats Sion’s head.

“What a kind boy. I refuse. I rather like tending to the garden and losing myself to my thoughts. And it is about time for you to return to the castle. Be well, Young Sion.” At this, Sion is gently lifted by vines and grass. He is moved beyond the short walls enclosing the garden and placed softly on the street. A vine wraps around Sion’s hand, leaving a pressed flower in the back of his hand in its wake. The flower glows with a soft golden light before disappearing. Sion then hears Bishop Erd’s voice in his head, now gentle and soft once more.

“I’ve given you a protective blessing for your journey. Hurry along back to the castle now.” Sion looks down at his hand warmly, then begins to jog back towards the castle.

As he walks through the castle’s main gate, Sion is greeted by Theyni. She looks surprised at his presence.

“Wow. You’re right on time. I was just told to come wait for you. I’ll escort you to the head mage, then.” Theyni leads Sion into a room that is nearly empty. The only thing furnishing it is a small table with some sort of board atop it. Gathered around the table are an old man in a robe and thick-rimmed glasses, Scima, and Eva.

As soon as Sion enters the room, the old man begins to beckon him over to the table. When Sion stands over it, he can see the board more clearly. In the board is an eleven-pointed star, each point having a corresponding groove along it. In the center of the star is a slightly raised circular platform, with an orb of spinning liquid silver floating above it. Sion looks at it, confused, as the old man begins to speak.

“Sion, I am the head mage of Clea. It appears you are unfamiliar with this device, so allow me to explain it to you. This is an Argyraster. It is a device made to measure the strength and potential of a person in the eleven basic forms of arcane magic. Lady Evangelina, if you would be so kind as to give a demonstration.” Eva places her hand slightly above the orb of silver. The sphere begins to morph and distort, before melting and spreading out over the star. The silver nearly fills one point to the end, fills another halfway, and barely spreads over the rest. The longest point begins to glow a soft red as the second longest glows a pale silvery blue. “This result shows that Lady Evangelina has a high aptitude in fire magic and barrier magic and is currently much more skilled in fire than with barriers. The length represents the aptitude and the light represents the strength. Do you understand?” Sion watches as the silver slinks back up the raised section as it reforms into a sphere.

“Yes sir. So I just need to place my hand above the silver?”

“Yes, that is correct. We need to know your strengths first so we know what to teach you.” Sion nods then places his hand above the silver. As with Eva, the silver ripples and falls over the star. The silver remains in the small raised circle save for one point, which spreads past the star and drapes over the table. The massive point glows as faintly as Eva’s smallest points, the color barely discernible. The head mage stares at the device, flabbergasted.

“Sion, I have no words for this. I really do not know what to make of this. The device is showing a nearly unprecedented aptitude in sensory magic, although your power is still lacking at the present moment, but almost no aptitude in any other form of arcane magic. I have never seen such a disparity before.” The old man turns towards Eva. “Lady Evangelina, in light of this result, I believe there is very little we can do for him in only a week, as regrettable as that is. I recommend that magic instruction be removed from Sion’s schedule for the week and replaced with more time he can spend training his martial strengths.” The head mage sighs deeply as the recommendation leaves his lips.

“I understand. I shall relay that to my father.” The head mage turns back towards Sion.

“I apologize, Sion, but sensory magic, more than any form of arcane magic, takes immense time and patience to bear fruit. We simply do not have the time before you are to leave to train you.” He grasps Sion’s shoulder. “But please let us study your power one day. Such an aptitude is a true rarity.” Sion, Scima, Eva, and Theyni leave the head mage in the barren room. Eva looks at Sion.

“Well then, I need to report to my father.” She does a slight bow and turns to leave. Theyni taps Sion on the shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll lead you back to your room now.” Theyni turns to leave and Sion turns to follow. Scima turns his head to look at Sion, looks back at Eva, then whips his body around to face Sion.

“Hold on. Sion, starting tomorrow I’ll be joining your training. I’ll put you through the wringer, so get ready for it!” Scima walks after Eva, leaving Sion to return to his room to rest in preparation for the next day of his training.