While the mage waited for the musher to come, he said a few choice words, “Were your father not so useless, he wouldn’t have been allowed to squander in the middle of a dump. No one cares for his death, and no one will care for yours either. But seeing as you’re a seer and your people follow the words of those with silver hair without question, I’ll put you to good use.” The mage stepped back and looked at the door. The musher had yet to come, despite his earlier words. “What’s taking you so long!”

The musher still didn’t appear.

He scoffed. “Anyhow, I’m not going to waste my time here. I hope you enjoy the mines.”

Nathan ground his teeth. Out of hate, he imagined himself controlling ice spears and aimed them at the mage, but only a slight bit of mana manifested as aura around his hands, creating a blue wobble in the air before disappearing.

The mage looked back. “If that’s all you can do, then it didn’t even matter if you entered the Tower. You’d still squander around in shit. Well, I’m off, have a good life.” He turned around and left.

Nathan couldn’t wrap his head around what happened. He hobbled towards the exit; his ankles cuffed in ice. Trying to run off, he tripped over himself and fell.

The mage headed back up the stairs and the receptionist returned; her eyes set low. “I’m afraid you have been deemed not a mage,” she said to Marian.

“What can I do?” muttered Nathan, hopeless.

“Wait.” Margarette looked away and rang a small, hand sized bell.

When the musher entered the building and his eyes set on the boy, his frightened look faded and was replaced by the largest grin. “I knew it! Look.” He pushed open the door, letting Gilja and the others now chained up in sturdy iron cuffs get a good look.

“I don’t know who you thought you were, but the last time I checked, a seer isn’t a mage. If anything, but this happened, I’d have gone to swim in the icy sea.” He laughed.

“Shut up if you don’t want to be replaced! You have no right to speak.” Margarette yelled in Daqua.

“Yes, Ma’m,” he quickly replied.

“Take them away,” she ordered dispassionately, her eyes wandering to Nathan.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Oh, it’s Verlo—” begun the musher.

“No ones talking to you!” She placed her hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “The one who called himself a mage, what is your surname?”

“I don’t know,” answered Nathan, whose handcuffs were being held by the musher.

As Margarette was about to ask again, Gilja answered. “Nathan, Nathan is his name. The seer of Kilgarda’s village.”

The lady nodded and let the musher drag them away.

#

The musher threw Nathan in a crate, where he balled up in a fetal position. Still pained by the hits he’d eaten and the ice shackles burning his skin, he rubbed his hands together in hopes of warming them, but it didn’t help.

Soon enough, the sled began to move and passing lights beckoned him to look outside. He pressed his face against the gaps of the crate, but as he did, something entered his eyes, and it hurt like hell. He tried to blink it out, then rub it out, but discounting the inconvenience posed by his cuffs, the thing in his eyes didn’t come out.

“Hey! What’s this dust?” he yelled. “I can’t see!”

No one responded. There was only the repetitive thud of running dogs.

Eventually, the itch in his eyes passed. But, when he opened them, blue dots stained his vision. He tried to blink them away, but they only faded. Nathan closed his eyes for the remainder of the trip. It was a long trip.

#

The sled slowed to a stop, and something picked up Nathan’s box. He was carried for a few minutes before being thrown into the snow and the next thing he knew, the wooden slates were being pried open, and splinters rained down on him.

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“It’s the Seer.” A gruff hand grabbed onto Nathan’s collar and threw him out onto the snow.

Nathan opened his eyes. The blue dots had faded away, but the cold which burned his wrists hadn’t.

“Seer, how do you feel?” asked a large man, both muscular and fat. Although his hair was blonde, his eyes were blue, a colour Nathan had never seen in someone’s eyes.

However, he did remember his mother telling him that the Hilfa’s who lived further east had such traits.

Behind the man sat a mount of earth partially covered in snow, at its base there was a large opening from where an unmanned metal wheelbarrow rolled out.

A leather strap hit Nathan across his cheek. “Look at me!” The man kicked him in the chest, sending Nathan crashing into his crate. “You aren’t leading a village anymore, and you don’t have the time nor right to be looking around. All you gotta know is that if I ask you a question, you answer.” The man struck Nathan’s face once again. “And address me as Overseer.” He grabbed onto the ice which imprisoned Nathan’s wrist with his thick leather gloves and dragged the boy away.

Nathan cried. He had had enough; this wasn’t supposed to happen, he was supposed to be heading towards the Tower. “Release me! Release me! I’m a mage! I’m telling you, I’m a mage!” He pulled his shackles towards himself, trying to get the man to let go, but his grip was too strong. Nathan continued to flail, but to no avail. His mouth tasted of blood, and his teeth were loose.

The Overseer dragged the boy kicking and screaming through snow, sharp shards of blue crystals, and rocks. In his flailing Nathan saw a huge wall thrice his height made of ice, he saw a team of men covered in blue dust, carrying pickaxes entering a mine, swearing and yelling. He saw crates overflowing with blue crystals.

He didn’t belong here.

“We’re here,” said the Overseer, tossing Nathan in a small wooden hut empty say for blue crystals, a copper bowl filled with a green liquid, and a stool.

“All you gotta do is grab two crystals, one for each hand you got, plunge it in the liquid, cover the crystals in your aura, and wait for them to dissolve. Ain’t that easy.” He laughed. “You should thank me for not sending you to the mines. I doubt you’d last more than a week with that frail body of yours.” He slammed the door shut and Nathan heard the rattle of keys.

Nathan ran to the door and pulled with all his strength, but it didn’t budge. Where did it go wrong? He wondered, but he couldn’t find the answer. Was it when I left home? Was it when I accepted Gilja’s help? Should I have made a run for the shore as soon as I arrived in Bregva? No, if I hadn’t accepted Gilja’s help I would have starved, and if I had made a run for the shore, I’d of been caught.

Nathan grabbed a crystal. He rubbed his thumb across its surface, leaving his hands stained blue. They then began to itch and burn like his eyes not too long before. He tried to wipe the dust away on his clothes, but it only spread the itch.

How did this happen? He wasn’t supposed to be here, he shouldn’t be here. That fucking mage. He wanted to grind him to a pulp, his heart beat faster by the second and his rage made tears form.

But first he needed to escape. As such, he began to smash his cuffs on the bench over and over again. He’d keep going until he was free; however, nothing happened. Neither did the cuffs chip nor crack. How could ice be so strong? Was this the power of fourth-ranked mages?

But he couldn’t give up and continued until his wrists were bloodied, and that’s when the door finally reopened.

Looking outside, at the blinding light, Nathan saw the Overseer, in one hand he held the leather strap, and in the other he carried a large bucket filled with crystals.

“You didn’t even dissolve a single crystal. Aren’t you a lazy bum?” He laughed. “Well, it’s not my problem. I’ll just leave this bucket here and get your meal.”

Nathan stared at the man, confused. He hadn’t thought of it, but he didn’t understand why the Overseer didn’t care that he wasn’t working nor that I was trying to escape. Does he think I can’t escape? Isn’t he too sure of himself?

The man came back with a tray filled with dried fish and water.

Nathan took the plate and the man left. Was the food poisoned? But then why not just kill me here? Or perhaps is he an ally in disguise? Nathan shook his head and decided just to eat and deal with the rest later.

The fish was good.

Finished, he didn’t suffer from anything other than slight stomach pains.

Now having eaten and having lost hope of breaking his chains, he lay in the corner of the shack. It didn’t have windows, and the only light he got, was what peered through the space between the wooden boards. He wanted to think, to think of a way to escape, but his body was too physically exhausted to think. Time passed and the bright white light dimmed. Soon the world became dark, and Nathan began to doze off…

“IT’S TIME TO GO!” The door burst open and, falling over, Nathan hit his head on the shack’s walls. He rolled over and clung to his head. “What? Sleeping? I wish I could wish to be you.” It was the Overseer. He grabbed Nathan’s cuffs and dragged him out of the shack, through snow, and brought him over to a giant igloo. One thrice the size of Kilgarda’s.

“Who built this…” Nathan couldn’t help but to mutter, amazed. The overseer didn’t respond, but as Nathan was brought to it, he noticed that the igloo was covered in a film of ice, like the warehouses in Bregva. Its size was even more impressive when seen from up close.

The Overseer opened the wooden door, letting a wave of overwhelming heat assault him. “Seeing as you were out in the cold all day, I guessed that you would like it toasty tonight. And don’t forget to wish your teammates goodnight. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He threw the boy into the igloo. And there, Nathan was faced with at least fifty men, some tall, others short, some skinny, others fat, but all covered, if not stained in blue dust.

And even before Nathan could get a word in, a man with crystal blue skin landed a punch on Nathan’s temple.