“I can feel it,” whispered Nathan in his mother’s embrace. “I’ll awaken my mana heart soon enough.”

Quiva lay in bed, sweat dripped down her forehead, her eyes were pink, and lips dry. “Are you sure?”

Nathan looked aside. “Wait here,” he said and ran out to get something to cool her down. He didn’t know why she always doubted his ability. He packed snow in cloth, returned inside and placed it on her forehead, but she began to shiver and sneeze. Nathan’s heart dropped. He looked out the room’s door, then back to his mother. “I won’t leave, even if I awaken as a mage,” he said. However, tall towers and the tales of great mages loomed over his mind, while promises of untold riches enticed his heart.

A pained smile spread on Quiva’s face. “Can you promise me that?”

“I promise with all my heart, I won’t leave you for this world.” His smile was crooked.

“What about the promise to…” Her words sputtered to an end. “To your father.” She managed to croak out.

Nathan didn’t pick up on her last words. “Sorry, what promise?” Her words were distorted by his mind. He smiled once again, hoping to lighten the mood, but his eyes remained blank.

Quiva smiled back. “It’s fine.” She placed her hand on her mouth. Nathan did the same. But just as she drew down her hand, a pink liquid ran out her nose. She quickly covered it up with her fur covers. “I’m a bit tired, head back to your studies, Herbert will get mad if you don’t."

Nathan gave her a long hug and ran into the dining room where he downed his stew. As he wiped his lips clean, Herbert entered the house. Seeing his father’s gruff beard, his dishevelled hair, and piercing hazel eyes, Nathan straightened his back and waited for his father’s words.

“I’ve found the perfect beast for your ascension. It’s a silver wolf.”

Nathan’s eyes shot open. This was the moment he’d been waiting ever since he first saw his father’s magic. It was the promise of power, wealth, and independence. This would be his ticket out … this is what he always wanted.

#

Stepping outside, snow fell in heaps and hid all but his father’s blue cloak and the cold froze all but Nathan’s will. Following his father, Nathan’s spiked shoes dug deep in Herbert’s ice. To pry them out he had to use all his strength. Like this, he walked for hours before the shuffle of fur in snow reached his ears.

He stopped and grabbed the crossbow slung on his back. Herbert’s domain grew, spreading the crinkle of expanding ice in all directions muted the sound of the beast. When the lustre of ice was all Nathan could see, Herbert disappeared into the storm.

To Nathan’s right, the low-pitched growl of a silver wolf resounded. He loaded a bolt when the scratching of claws on ice ringed in the air. It wasn’t quick but wandering. The beast was probably doing its best not to lose its bearing on the ice sheet. Soon enough a grey shadow came into view.

Nathan aimed, making sure he wasn’t seeing an illusion. After a few seconds, he confirmed the shape to be a wolf, one with thick fur, sharp claws, and piercing yellow gaze. He pressed down on his crossbow’s trigger, and the bolt flew out of its rail. A squeal reached his ears. He didn’t let down his guard. His eyes, still set on the shadow, continued to wander the surroundings. He quickly lowered his crossbow, cranked back the string, and loaded another bolt.

With small steps he made his way to the wolf. The bolt had struck the beast’s abdomen, but he wasn’t sure if the strike was lethal, so he released the other bolt in its head.

Herbert appeared out of the storm with a gold dagger. “Good job, now take off your upper garments.” He ordered before kneeling next the wolf and cutting open its chest, retrieving its heart. “Come here and get on your knees,” ordered his father. “I’m going to merge your hearts.”

Nathan walked over and did as told.

“Close your eyes, place your hands on your thighs, and do not move.”

Nathan first took off his coat. Although the cold winds stripped him of heat and life; the promises of strength, wealth, and power kept him alive. He would not let the Spirit of the North reap his soul today.

With hands soaked in the wolf’s blood, Herbert traced a glyph on his son’s back. He then pressed his hand atop Nathan's heart and channelled in mana. The blood glowed scarlet and with his other hand, Herbert pressed the silver wolf’s heart into his son’s chest.

Nathan didn’t scream nor budge. He accepted the piercing cold brought about by the fusion. He thought of the Magic Towers, of the green pastures they overlooked, of the Southern plains and their heat. Of his mother and Kilgarda. And of Herbert … and of the deception his failure would bring.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

But the pain didn’t pass, and his heart continued to throb. He ground his teeth. Blood leaked out his mouth. A great heat burst from within, and his eyes shot open. The snow around him melted and revealed bright green grass. A colour he’d learn to associate with deception and failure.

And then he fainted, lying on the corpse of the wolf.

#

Something warm touched Nathan’s skin. He opened his eyes and found himself in his mother’s lap, her hand resting under his cheek.

“Tell me what’s missing!” yelled his father in Darqua with a thick Marian accent. Nathan had never heard him sound so mad.

“I don’t know! I don’t know! Mother is the only one who knows how to pass on her magic.” She clutched Nathan tighter.

“Then have her tell me how to do it, else I’ll freeze everyone in that shitty village!” He yelled. “I only have so much strength, and I used it all on this. If this fails, I’ll have nothing! Nothing! So, find a way to awaken his heart else I’ll really kill everyone.”

Nathan didn’t move, but he couldn’t stop his heart from running throughout his body. His mother surely felt it as his chest was pressed on her tight and his heart continued to beat harder and harder. He wanted them to stop screaming but they kept going on about Seers, about how they got their magic, and worth. It was too much for him.

Herbert kept pushing for answers and Quiva kept refusing to answer saying she didn’t know. It kept going. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have failed to awaken as a mage. It was his fault for failing to ascend.

Unable to bear it anymore, he closed his ears and fell back to sleep.

#

The first thing Nathan heard when he awoke was his mother. “You don’t have to become a mage,” she said, her eyes and cheeks red; tears had stained her cheeks and throat.

Nathan’s eyes wandered around the room. A strong heat throbbed in his chest. It was the rage of failure. He wanted to break the chair in the corner of the room and punch a door in two.

“You can go and live in Kilgarda’s village. My brother will treat you well, I promise.”

Nathan’s eyes burned up. He couldn’t keep them open, but he found the strength to speak. “I am treated well here. Most mage apprentices die in their early age. And it’s not much better in the village either. Ralgdo’s child and wife died. I’m sure all the other kids are jealous of me. I can see how they act. That’s why they don’t talk to me. They want to become mages and travel the world. Life is hard and I’ll have a better one than them. That’s all.”

Quiva cried at her son’s disjointed thoughts and words. He had been so thoroughly … consumed by his father’s words that his mind twisted and turned to see only the positives of magic and magehood. “It isn’t supposed to be like this… I’ve never—”

The door slammed open. Herbert entered with heavy steps and ripped Nathan out of her embrace. “You should have told me that he was awake.” He took a vial out of his breast pocket, popped it open with a flick of his thumb and fed Nathan the concoction.

It was sour and bitter. Nathan did his best not to spit it out.

When it had all gone down, Herbert pocketed the empty vial and dragged Nathan out the room, out the house, and into the shed. Now speaking in Marian he said, “the days after your first attempt at gaining a mana heart you must keep working, interacting, and acting like a beast if you want to merge with them, so get to work.” He slammed close the shed’s door.

#

The wolf, its body silver, but its head crimson red, hung upside down on a metal hook, its blood poured out of its neck into a wooden bucket.

Nathan’s eyes were stale, dead, and tired. The sour and bitter taste of the potion lingered in his mouth.

Only a few drops of blood remained in the wolf’s corpse. Nathan raised the blood-filled jug and took a swig. He gagged at first, but his thirst overwhelmed his sense of disgust. Squinting, he drank until his stomach was full. With his coat’s sleeve, he wiped away the blood which remained on his lips, then set the bucket down.

In the bucket, still half filled with blood, his reflection looked at him. His eyes were small and his irises brown. His hair silver, and his face slim. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the wolf he’d killed. Not to mention his survival skills were good, and he had decent instincts. What else were he to do in order to better embody the beasts of this land.

His eyes set on the emaciated wolf, with silver fur. He proceeded to gut the wolf, imagining this beast to be his brother or cousin. If he was one of them then he should always imagine them as such, as dead beasts on a hook. After all, beasts lived alone and did not distinguish family and prey. He proceeded to smoke its meat and clean his tools. Done, Nathan returned to the house.

Inside, a glyph painted in blood covered the table. Straight lines intersected circles, squares, and triangles.

“Lay down.” Herbert motioned to the table.

Nathan’s throat clenched up; it was thick with blood. “Why?” he asked, a part of his heart pushing him away from the glyph.

“A human can only awaken his mana heart from the ages of twelve to sixteen, and he has about three tries, else—”

“He will remain without mana his entire life,” finished Nathan, unsure why his father was talking about this subject.

“To unlock a mana heart, a human requires the heart of a beast; however, it cannot be any random heart but—”

“A compatible heart,” answered Nathan.

Herbert dipped his hand in a bowl filled with blood. “But we haven’t found a way to determine if a beast is compatible or not to any given human.” He dipped his other hand in the bowl. Blood dripped down his fingertips. “Take off your clothes and turn around.”

The smell of blood made Nathan salivate. He was still thirsty, but he fought through this unusual urge and undressed himself. Facing the wall, Herbet placed his fingers on Nathan’s neck. Cold blood made its way down his spine, it tickled.

“When forming a mana heart, one must merge two hearts to produce the mana heart seed. Then one must merge both human and beast blood to feed the seed. The latter is difficult to do because human and beast blood are too different. This is a forceful procedure and if it fails the blood must be purged; otherwise, it drowns the seed. This will cause the seed to get damaged, and with every try it’ll get more and more damaged. By the fourth try, the damage is irreparable. This is why we only have three tries. Herbert continued to draw lines on Nathan’s back. “Go lay on the glyph, we need to remove the silver wolf’s blood.”

Blood dripped down Nathan’s lower back onto his legs.

The cool wind which passed through the house’s old wooden walls froze the blood on his back and left him with sniffles. He climbed onto the table, careful not to smudge the glyph and laid down.