This time when Nathan awoke, he was neither in his mother’s embrace, nor his bed.

Disorientated, he searched for anything to get a grasp of his location, but all was pitch-black until he spotted a single red dot. As he crawled towards it, it began to flicker and take the shape of a flame. Next to it, a small vial came into view. He reached for it, but noticed that his fingers were still black, frostbitten. Afraid to spill the drink, he grabbed the vial with both palms and used his teeth to pull out the cork before gulping down the potion.

The flame disappeared into the darkness and the void sucked in everything including his senses. He couldn’t tell up from down, hot from cold, rough from smooth. He was swimming in a pool of nothingness until his thoughts drained from his mind to fill the void.

In front of him stood his father, in his thick and smooth blue robes. Kilgarda was on the other side and Quiva sat behind her, vapid-eyed and drained of life. A thick wall of ice flanked him on both sides. With each breath he took, they closed in on him creaking and crackling.

But he didn’t budge, only rolling up into a ball, arms protecting his head as a Hrenique eagle screeched above them and a wolf barked from the other side of the ice walls.

#

The dream ended.

With dreary eyes, Nathan stared at the Hrenique eagle suspended on the butcher’s hook. Its neck had been cut, and blood pooled in a bucket.

Nathan’s mouth watered. He wiped it away with the end of his coat’s sleeve, leaving fresh crimson stains on his furs. He then rubbed away what remained with his hands. He didn’t remember drinking any, yet its taste lingered in his mouth.

What was he to do now? He only had one chance left. The first failure was fine, very few mages passed their first attempt after all, but very few failed their second.

Had he not suffered enough? Am I cursed? Did I not spend enough time in blizzards, or did I spend too much time with Mom? “Why is it not working?”

Guilt-ridden, Nathan rushed to his tools and begun to dissect the eagle. If needed, he’d spend the next month outside suffering through the coldest cold. Perhaps Kilgarda might know something that could help him. After all, she had awakened her mana heart without the support of any mages. Wasn’t that what father talked about with Quiva when I awoke the other day? His head hurt, he wasn’t sure if what he’d heard was a dream or real. It did feel more like a dream than reality.

But if real, he had things he needed to think about. After all, his father had never hidden anything from him nor tried to hinder his growth … but his mother had. There are mages, mage assistants, and the others. Unfortunately, his mother was an-other, one who wasn’t a mage neither one who understood their struggles and goals. It didn’t diminish her in his eyes; he still loved her, but she was different, and he knew he couldn’t fully relate to her. That was why there were groups. Wolves couldn’t work with a troll and a bird couldn’t communicate with a rabbit.

When the sun set, Nathan finished packing his goods. He’d set out immediately even if it were dark in an hour. However, when he tried to push open the shack’s door, it didn’t budge. He pushed and pulled at it, leaving the shack shaking, but still nothing. Thinking that yesterday’s snowfall may have blocked the door, he decided to escape through the small window he kept partially open to let the air circulate.

He pushed aside the drawers in his way, pulled over his stool, and climbed out the window, falling in the snow behind the shack, where he kept his small wooden shovel. He headed round the shack ready to clear the snow, but there wasn’t anything more than a couple inches. Nothing that should block the door.

Something else had caused this. A thin film of black ice covered the door and glued it to the door frame. Nathan looked back to his house. He hadn’t been locked in his room nor had he ever been locked in the shack.

He had really screwed up, and he knew this too well. He shouldn’t need three tries to become a mage but here he was. I’m not worth father’s effort. Normally Herbert would wait outside his room, ready to push him harder to improve, but today he was nowhere to be seen… Why bother? Father has given up on me. Nathan thought and crawled back into the shack.

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#

Nathan sat on the stool, playing with eagle feathers; entangling them in his silver hair, letting them hang around his chest and back. But after he tied the twenty-sixth feather, he couldn’t fit anymore of them and was at a loss. Unsure what to do he let his mind wander and remembered his father’s description of the Continent.

The Towers are spires which tower above clouds. Made of stone and held together by magic, they represent the absolute power of mages. His father sculpted model edifices with his ice. It went up to his chest and sprawled below these, hundreds of finger-sized houses cropped up. All intertwined with roads and squares which hosted grand fountains.

All the hardships he endured should have led him to those spires. There are five main towers. They each control a share of the continent; one for each main cardinal direction and another at the centre.

Herbert de la Cortella, a fifth-generation mage was his father.

We come from the southern magic tower. Our name, Cortella, was once held in great esteem, reverence, and wealth.

However, with time comes change, and by the time Nathan’s father inherited the name they had lost it all say for pride.

I escaped the Southern towers with my life and enlisted as a mercenary for the Northern Tower.

He eventually came to settle on the Greval Island where Nathan was born of him and Quiva, a native of this land.

Once you become a mage I will grant you my emblem, with it you will be able to join the Tower of your choosing say for the Southern Tower (for those who had conspired against them would no doubt hastily take care of Nathan). There, one can find the strength to fight dragons, the knowledge to invent untold magic, and maps which lead to dungeons filled with mystic goods.

That was more than enough to gain Nathan’s attention and obsession. Ever since then, he had dedicated every waking hour of his life to magic. However, the hardships of training had led the boy to forget his passion. His mind—battered by cold winds, cold blood, and cold hearts had all but frozen.

But now, sitting on his shack’s stool, with hot shit for a future, his mind tawed and those words and dreams reappeared. What he would give for such things. It would be immeasurable. Nathan found a dull knife, crawled out the window and began to smash the ice which sealed the front door. After an hour of hard labour, he managed to break enough ice to let him kick it open.

He grabbed his rations, slipped on his snowshoes, and ran back out; set on finding a way to bloom his mana heart’s seed.

#

The days after large blizzards were always the calmest. However, humans weren’t the only ones to wander the fields on such days.

In the distance Nathan spotted two beady black eyes. The beast’s fur melded into the surroundings as to make it hard for him to distinguish the beast.

Nathan grabbed his crossbow and loaded a bolt.

He and the beast stared each other down, neither moving a muscle, but it was Nathan who took the first move, else he’d freeze. Nathan walked hoping to get in range before the beast attacked.

Thankfully, the beast remained unmoving. At first Nathan thought it to be a large wolf, however, as he continued to approach it, he identified it as a slim, emaciated bear.

The bear’s breaths were audible, he struggled to hold on to life. Nathan aimed his crossbow towards the bear who took a shaky step forward.

But as Nathan was steadying his breath, the bear ran away and within a few seconds it was out of his sight. Nathan sighed and lowered his crossbow. Still, he waited in his spot for a few minutes as he made sure the beast had really run away. That had been his first encounter with such a large beast where the latter didn’t attack him. He couldn’t be certain, but each passing year it felt like fewer and fewer beasts appeared and those that did weren’t healthy. It was only near their house where things were a bit better.

After walking for another hour, his legs cramped, and his head became foggy. The encounter had tired him, he looked up, yet the sun still shined white. Hopefully, it would start to set soon, regardless Nathan decided to cut today’s trip short. With his snow saw he cut bricks and with a small shovel, he dug his igloo’s pit.

Waiting to fall asleep, Nathan contemplated things once more.

What does mana or rather aura feel like? He wondered, his hands picking at a few pimples which had begun to spring up on his nose.

What do the Towers look like? He imagined great white trees built of snow. But then his father’s words came to him. The Towers are the width of a thousand trees, built of stone, and tower above the clouds. He couldn’t fathom such a sight, but he closed his eyes and tried regardless. The sight was great, but it was only from the outside, there was no doubt much more wonderful things inside. What would he do if he remained an outsider forever?

Well, he could still enter these great towers as a helper who’d prepare, clean, and purchase the equipment of mages, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself were he to fall short of his father’s expectation. Herbert had sunk so much time into his education, he himself had shed too much blood, and endured too much pain to see it all go to waste. Hopefully, Kilgarda would have the answer, else he didn’t know how he’d live on.

The igloo had warmed and his body which was previously in survival mode now wanted food. He looked through his goods. He had a good amount of jerky, but it didn’t inspire him. Instead, he reached for his water skin. Taking a swig, a thick, and heavy liquid gushed out. He couldn’t stop drinking. He couldn’t wait for this thirst to be quenched.