Atell spent hours tossing and turning in his bed just as predicted. It felt oddly reminiscent of his very first night in this home.

In the blink of an eye, two years had passed… and from his youthful perspective — two years felt like the majority of his life. His recollection of his time in the caves and the Trion Mountains seemed to meld together in a hazy blur. Certain things felt so foreign to him now. The musky smell of the caves, and the stifling air and din of the mines… For some reason, he wanted to hear, smell, and feel all those things one more time.

It wasn’t so much an homage to the past as it was a simple desire not to forget. If those memories faded, Atell felt like he would be losing an essential part of himself. Was that selfish? How many of his fellow tribesmen desperately wished they could forget? And now it was something he looked back upon longingly… Had he truly become so coddled here?

‘No—!’ Atell declared resolutely in his mind. The reason why he didn’t wish to forget those things didn’t stem from some selfish desire. He couldn’t allow himself to forget because those memories were what drove him forward. They were the reason he worked so hard. The reason he strove for power was so that others in his tribe would never have to feel confined and helpless.

At least… that's what Atell told himself. It was difficult to completely escape the shackles of self-doubt no matter how resolutely he fought against them. But that too was not necessarily a bad thing. A little doubt kept him anchored, allowing him to reflect on his thoughts and actions.

“A lack of doubt indicates an ignorant mind.” Atell smiled as his father’s bold proclamation echoed through his mind. He hadn’t really understood the man’s meaning back then, but he felt he could see the truth of those words now.

It was one of his few early experiences he recalled with true fondness. During a particularly warm and cloudless evening, Atell had broken down, crying incessantly in his father’s arms as they sat stargazing on the rear of Mount Stormpeak. After a long day of accompanying his grandfather in town, he had grown distraught, pushed into a dubious state of mind by the incessant whispers of the Aurelian Clansmen. They spoke ill of his mother — calling her a whore and a traitor, and they cursed the tainted blood flowing through his veins. Despite his grandfather’s encouragement, Atell felt worthless, undesired…

Was that why all the other kids avoided him? Why all the adults skirted his questions and generally just left him to his own devices? Atell knew he was different from the other Troll-Bloods, but he thought that was what made him special. It was a large source of his pride. What was he supposed to think then when others spoke otherwise?

His father had immediately flown into a fit of rage when Atell voiced his fears. Waving his arms about as he called the Aurelians mindless zealots. After managing to calm down, he explained to Atell that all of the people who called him such things were only repeating the words of others. And those who so easily believed the words of others were ignorant, simple-minded fools. He went on to preach the benefits of doubt and reflection, on considering what you hear and making your own informed conclusions…

Almost all of it had gone right over his head. Atell was only 5 at the time, after all. He knew his father was only trying to cheer him up, and he’d just got a bit carried away. But that was also one of the things he admired most about the man — his passionate pursuit of all things.

Atell always tried to carry that same unshakeable momentum. So why was he content to regress now? If he went back to the tribe, everything Sivelle had set aside in order to help him… his grandfather's hopes… He would be squandering them all if he chose that path.

After concluding the long and meandering debate in his mind, Atell finally found solace in sleep.

***

“Ah, Atell! My favorite little demon…” Miss Lotti’s enthusiastic voice filled the small store. “Well, not so little anymore,” she snickered. “What can I help you with today?”

“I’m here to help my uncle prepare some supplies. I hope you can help us out?”

“Of course, Of course. For such a handsome man like your uncle, I may even be able to offer you a small discount,” The hefty woman replied with a wink.

Irth lowered his head respectfully. “I must thank you for your great kindness, Lady Lotti.”

“Oh my! So polite too…” Lotti giggled.

Atell rolled his eyes. “...Uncle, don’t pay her flattery any mind, just show her the list of things you require. Her only true intent is to rip you off, so be wary.”

“Atell!” Irth exclaimed. He was shocked by his nephew’s blatant disregard of the woman’s character right to her face.

“Is your opinion of me really so low…?” Lotti pouted, the folds of her chin multiplying as she shrunk back.

“If you weren’t the only merchant in Shimmering Heights with enough stock, there’s not a chance I would let my uncle come here.”

Lotti just laughed it off and turned her attention to Irth. “So? What can I help you with today?”

“U-Um, I’m looking for…” Irth was still trying to settle himself following the vicious exchange as he rattled off his list. With Atell’s remaining funds, in addition to the tribe’s savings, there was more than enough coin for everything he needed. He felt bad taking the boy’s hard-earned money, but his nephew had insisted that he had little use for money with Sivelle backing him.

Following a flurry of negotiations, Irth left the boisterous merchant’s shop with two full sacks of tools, cloth, and various other supplies, slung over his shoulder. Atell followed behind him with another as they made their way back up the ridge at the edge of town.

“Atell, thank you again for lending your aid. I fear without the funds you gave me, I wouldn’t have been able to return with everything the tribe needs.”

“Like I said, Uncle… I have plenty of ways to earn money with potions and medicines. In fact, if you don’t mind waiting another day, I would like to make a batch for you to bring back as well.”

“I would be... m-most grateful,” Irth replied through strained grunts as they trudged up the steep incline.

“Uncle, let me take another bag. I have the strength to spare.” Atell hurried to his Uncle’s side.

“I’m… fine…” Irth wheezed, deciding to circulate some of his Mana to ease the burden. Fortunately, his nephew acquiesced to his wishes, falling back with light steps, but a concerned expression was still etched on the boy’s face. Irth shook his head and smiled. Atell’s transformation had shattered his notions of strength. It was likely that the boy could carry the entirety of their purchases without breaking a sweat. ‘Tenshi will be unable to contain his delight when he hears of this.’

Irth fondly imagined the bony old man jumping up and down, running through the caves the like a wild boar. A low chuckle escaped his lips as they finally reached the end of the trail.

Sivelle was already out in the yard when they returned, watering the new grass seeds she had planted in the lawn following Atell’s destructive outburst earlier in the week.

“Lotti didn’t lighten your pockets too badly, I hope,” she called out upon seeing them.

“Everything went well—” Irth was suddenly cut off by Atell’s shouting.

“...That woman is a Fiend in disguise! We should have gone to Kobi instead!”

Sivelle laughed. Lotti was truly a master at getting under Atell’s skin. The woman seemed to take great pleasure in teasing the boy every time he made a visit. Still, she never took advantage of his inexperience, always offering Atell fair prices.

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“You would have had to rent a carriage for travel. The extra cost and time aren’t worth the paltry amount you could save in Kobi.”

“Whatever. But next time I sell potions, I’m going into the city!” Atell declared.

“That’s fine by me. Our supply of Charge Crystals needs to be replenished anyway. Speaking of which…” Sivelle continued with a dry smile, “If you don’t start shortening the length of your showers, you’ll have to start paying for that expense on your own.”

Atell flinched as he dumped the sack he was carrying onto the porch. “Fine…”

Irth smiled wryly. He couldn’t blame the boy for this particular indiscretion. Last night, he had gotten his first taste of a shower and the other amenities in the home. It was a life-changing event for the middle-aged man. Why his nephew ever desired to return to the Hinterlands when he had access to such luxuries here... was baffling, to say the least.

He was glad Atell had decided to stay in the Dynasty and continue his studies. When the boy had made his announcement during breakfast in the morning, relief was evident on the face of the old Fae as well. He could tell she really cared about Atell’s well-being and progress, much like himself. Irth had promised his brother long ago to look after the boy, and he hadn’t done a great job meeting those expectations thus far. He was prepared to outright refuse if Atell had insisted on coming back with him. The Hinterlands were far too dangerous, and a terrible environment for a promising young Warlock to learn in…

***

Atell hurriedly cleaned up the mess he’d made in the greenhouse before packing an assortment of vials into a long, wooden case that could be worn slung over the shoulder.

Products in hand, he rushed back into the house, eager for a sumptuous dinner. Somehow, he always found himself starving after the short stints of alchemy. Maybe it was because he had to focus so intently on the task at hand that he failed to notice his body’s ever-growing desire for food.

It was difficult to imagine how drained Sivelle must feel after finishing one of her Concoctions. The process usually required the careful infusion of Mana for upwards of several hours... Which was also the reason he still had yet to take his first step out of the realm of alchemy and into true Concocting. Sivelle had so tenderly informed him that he was nowhere close to having the requisite amount of Mana or control.

But those were thoughts and complaints to consider at another time. Right now, his priority was to make sure that Irth had everything he needed for the return trip to their tribe’s new home.

Upon entering the kitchen, Atell saw the man in question was seated at the counter engaged in discussion with Sivelle over some tea.

“Ah, Atell, perfect timing! Why don’t you place the case over by the front door then join us at the dining table. Your Uncle and I have a few matters we would like you to consider…”

Sivelle’s statement seemed casual on the surface, but it held an entirely different meaning for Atell. The dining room was like a forbidden room in the house, tucked behind the kitchen, normally out of sight and mind... They always took their meals in the kitchen — even when Elaina stopped by during New Year’s or when other guests came to visit.

Atell’s mouth drew a thin line as the three of them settled at the table. “So, uh… what would you like to talk about?” he asked mildly, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“This isn’t an interrogation, Atell,” Sivelle chuckled. “We only wish to discuss your plans for the future in more detail…”

“Right!” Irth interjected. “I would like to have more information for the Patriarch than just the news of your progress and wellbeing.”

“What do you mean?” Atell’s face twisted into an expression of genuine confusion. “I thought we already established this morning that I’ll be staying in the Dynasty?”

“That is only a temporary settlement.” Sivelle clarified. “Now, we wish to illuminate your future path… or at least get a better idea of it while your uncle is still here.”

“I see... “ Atell mumbled. “I thought I would just stay here and continue on as we have.”

Sivelle deflated in her seat. Her eyes turned to the ceiling as the room lapsed into silence. Irth shifted uncomfortably, wringing his hands. He clearly wished to interject, but maybe felt it was not his place to do so.

“...Atell. Although I cherish our time together, I do not wish for you to remain cooped up here in the mountains. Do you not aspire to explore? To experience the world and leave your mark upon it? Do you not desire companions who will accompany you on your adventures?” Sivelle’s voice carried a hint of melancholy as she laid her intentions bare. “There is so much out there for you to discover and to learn.”

Atell squirmed under Sivelle’s unflinching gaze. Did he want all of those things? Of course! What child didn’t wish to emulate the heroes their elders spoke of with reverence. But those thoughts had only ever been fantasies inside his head. How could he ever declare such things so boldly?

“I-I… I just want to fulfill my promise to my Grandfather…”

Irth sighed. “Atell, the Patriarch wishes for your happiness more than anything else. You are his beloved grandson… he would never want to hear that he held you back when you had the opportunity to soar to heights untold.”

“But I can’t just leave everything behind!” Atell nearly shouted, his eyes glistening with tears. “And where would I even start!?”

“Atell…” Sivelle reached across the table to place her hands over his own. “That’s why we want to talk. To help push you in the right direction. And don’t think that by leaving you are never welcome to return. In fact…” The fae’s expression grew stern. “If you were to travel and not return to visit me at least once a year like Elaina… Well, then we might have a serious problem.”

Atell laughed between his choked sobs, more out of relief than anything else. He could see his uncle’s eyes growing red as well.

“Master Sivelle is right. I don’t want you to think I am pushing you away from the tribe, but it is truly unwise to return at this time,” Irth explained.

“T-Then, what should I do…?”

Sivelle sat back in her chair, smiling softly. “I can present you with a few options, none of which would require you to leave Shimmering Heights for some time, so don’t get too anxious. First, Lord Rei — or Juma as you know him, has already expressed a desire to bring you on as a Vassal of his family. I have previously worked for the Rei Clan as a retainer, so I can vouch for their integrity...” Upon noticing the frowns on the faces of both the demons present, she paused.

“...However, I can understand your apprehensions about serving under a large Clan. Although, I think it is fair to say that becoming a Vassal for one of the Paragon Clans is the quickest and easiest way to earn rank and prestige in the Dynasty. The nine Paragons each claim dominion over one of the Dynasty’s provinces, and the vast majority of the various City Lord’s and their officials serve as the Vassals of these provincial rulers.”

Despite Sivelle’s assurances, the apprehension Atell felt didn’t diminish in the slightest. “I will never be subservient to another Clan in my life,” he declared.

“Don’t be so quick to speak in absolutes,” Sivelle warned. “But… onto the next option. Elaina has repeatedly expressed her desire to have you join her at The Nest as a student. As an Instructor, she can guarantee your entry.”

“What exactly is The Nest?” Atell interrupted. “I’ve always heard her mention it when she visits.”

“Think of it as an institution that grooms promising young practitioners. While there are various such places in the Dynasty, The Nest is considered by many to be the best — and even receives funding from the Imperial Family. Not only is it a place devoted to mastering magic, but you would be able to mingle with many others around your age who hail from a variety of backgrounds. I think spending a few years at The Nest is the most suitable path for your development. Opportunity is present there in abundance.”

At Sivelle’s side, Irth nodded his agreement.

“I-Is there anything else?” Atell didn’t particularly like the idea. He’d never gotten along well with others his age. Always subject to apprehensive, or even outright hostile stares…

“I could always try and help you find a suitable Warlock to serve as a mentor. As an Elementalist specialized in Concoction, I can’t meet your needs long-term.” Sivelle shrugged. “Take some time to think it over… You won’t be able to join The Nest until the spring of your 12th year anyway.”

Atell nodded, eager to finally extract himself from this conversation.

“Alright, then.” Sivelle stood up, appearing satisfied with the conclusion. “I’ll need some help preparing dinner if you two don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Irth leaped out of his seat.

“Great. Atell, you’re in charge of the salad. Employ a light hand with the dressing this time please…”

“...I got it,” Atell grumbled as he followed Sivelle back into the kitchen. Why be so stingy with the dressing? The salads always tasted so bland otherwise…

***

Atell was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stood on the porch next to Sivelle to see his uncle off. He was saddened that their reunion was so short, overshadowed by the doubt and burdens of both parties… But he held more hope for the meetings hereafter.

In his own hands was a copy of the map the man had charted, and in Irth’s was a storage pouch — one of the many precious items Sivelle had included in her endowment to Atell’s family. Not only was Irth’s luggage significantly lightened, but he also received a warding glyph that would protect him on his travels. There would be no need to hire mercs and he could freely travel back and forth from their new caves to Shimmering Heights. The tribe would be able to establish some trade and his uncle would have an excuse to return and visit often in the future.

Atell’s gratitude toward Sivelle was immense, making him feel all the more guilty about the possibility of leaving her side. Still, if the woman herself desired him to leave and forge his own path… who was he to refuse? After thinking over his options more carefully, the idea of spending time with other practitioners his age seemed more and more appealing. Maybe they would be able to connect over their shared abilities?

“Alright, I’m off!” Irth shouted as he waved farewell, distancing Atell from his muddled morning thoughts. “I’ll be back at the end of the summer harvest to collect some more food and supplies!”

“Goodbye! See you then, Uncle!” Atell called back. He and Sivelle remained at the edge of the porch, waving farewell until Irth disappeared down the ridge and out of sight.

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