The sound of wood and fighting rang throughout the dimly lit chamber. It was already nighttime outside the hidden kingdom of the elves. Days and nights had already passed since Godric arrived in Mistveil Forest, but for him, time moved differently, as if he were drowning in the sand, as everything felt slower for him.

The twins held to their promise in preparing him for his task. The training they gave him was brutal. Anarórë held nothing back in their sparring sessions, with the she-elf beating him senseless, only for lómë to nurse him back to health.

Her twin also trained him in his way. lómë sensed nothing but weakness in his mind. Fear, doubt, regret, recklessness--such thoughts and behavior hindered Godric, and the elf decided to teach the boy how to control them. The twins, along with Godric, had agreed on alternating the training depending on the day, with Anarórë handling physical training and combat and lómë managing mental fortitude. As one twin trained him, the other would observe.

On this day, it was combat training, and Anarórë was as relentless as ever.

"Too slow!" she shouted over Godric's attempts to hit her with a wooden staff. The she-elf weaved and dodged his attacks effortlessly. Godric described her movement as being similar to dancing. He had already spent a considerable amount of time training in an attempt to reach her level, but it always seemed like the elf was one step ahead.

"How are you even able to dodge everything?" Godric said, wheezing as he attempted a swift overhead swing, which Anarórë easily caught with her hand.

"It's simple. I call it experience. Something you still clearly lack," Anarórë replied. "You are still hesitant when it comes to striking--that factor alone makes you easy to predict...and open to attacks." She continued and effortlessly dropped Godric after a leg sweep, picking his weapon in quick succession and pointing it at him.

"And now, you're dead. Again." Anarórë looked at Godric, disappointed. She turned to lómë seated at the corner, laughing at the remark. "The session is over. Tend to him, would you?" She asked her twin. "Of course, sister," lómë stood and approached the two, helping Godric to his feet. "Come now, Godric," he said. "Let us heal your wounds."

The trio headed into the main chamber, with Anarórë splitting off as she was called over by her companions and had other business to take care of. This left Godric and lómë to walk toward Godric's quarters, with one druid and a dryad inside, waiting for the prince's word. lómë spoke to them in elvish, and the dryad headed off while the druid sat down to help the prince heal Godric.

"You took quite a thrashing today, my friend," the prince said. "Do not feel bad about it, though. My sister was always the talented one when it came to hand-to-hand combat." He continued as he treated Godric's bruises found all around his body. The boy winced at the pain. He experienced this discomfort every other day and thought he would get used to it eventually, and yet somehow, Anarórë would find a way to make him hurt even more.

"How does she do that though?" Godric asked. "Do what? Find new forms of inflicting pain?" lómë replied. "I have my talents, and apparently, my sister has her own as well." He continued as he and the druid let out a laugh.

"The prince and princess are two sides of the same coin," the druid said, smirking. "They are complete opposites, yet they are also the same. It will come as no surprise that if the princess is talented in one aspect, our prince would also have his gifts." He continued.

"Your words flatter me, old one, but I still have a long road ahead of me if I am to become what our people say I am." lómë replied. "I wish your twin was more like you, lómë," Godric said to the prince."If so, then it wouldn't have to be this way--you know, with her wanting to kill me every other day." The elf couldn't help but laugh after hearing Godric's words.

"Do not let her catch you hearing that," he replied. "It is also a good thing that she is what she is. We balance each other. You say that now, but there are moments where she becomes more reasonable than I am. I am not as innocent as you think I am, Godric. I too, have another side of me you've yet to see." Godric looked at him and remembered what he had done in the royal hall.

"That reminds me--that thing you did back then when everyone almost wanted to kill me. What was that?" the boy asked, curious about the elf's response. "Oh, you do not know of that?" lómë responded in return with a look of surprise.

"Dear me...what has happened to the race of Men? Have you forgotten your strength? Your power?" The druid asked. Godric replied by moving his head from left to right, which resulted in the druid letting out a disappointed sigh.

"What has happened, I wonder? I think it might be best to teach this mortal about the deep magic, my prince," the druid advised lómë. "From what I've heard, his trial is the one we are all too familiar with." He looked at the elf, concerned.

"...I will see to it. Thank you for sharing this with us, old one." lómë replied, thankful, yet shaken. The druid replied with a bow and quietly left the room.

A few hours passed, and Godric stood up and stretched, all healed. "Your feats are truly amazing!" He remarked. "They are indeed; however, they are mainly exclusive to our House, and only a few rare individuals can match it. I'm surprised you did not know of this, Godric. You were very quiet when I mentioned it during our first encounter, and you never brought up the topic after I displayed a fraction of it back then in the hall." The elf prince said to him.

They then continued to travel to a different portion of the main chamber, which led to a door that was blocked by different species of flowers and varying types of tree roots.

"Ngol-amanya." lómë said in an intricate, and mystical tone. The nature surrounding the door began to move and open up an entryway which led to an open doorway that was bathed in a strange, shimmering glow. Godric stepped back, afraid he might enter another trap again, but lómë quickly reassured him. "Not to worry," the elf said. "Here, let me enter first." He then passed through the doorway, and suddenly, his body slowly disappeared, similar to how he first unveiled himself to Godric back then.

He steadied himself and entered the doorway which transported him to a room littered with books, scrolls, and all sorts of records. A library. He thought. Finally, something I'm somewhat familiar with. The young man followed the elf prince towards a section of the room, where the prince rummaged through texts, and scrolls and placed them on a table.

"Come, sit." lómë gestured for Godric to sit down opposite him. "What's all this?" He asked. "This is a collection of knowledge that helped me back when I first wanted to better understand the secrets of this world," the elf replied. "It helped me, and I believe it will help you as well." He then picked up a scroll and laid it out on the table.

"Now, to answer your question on what I used back then," lómë began to explain. "In our tongue, we call it lindëa, but in yours, it is what you refer to as magic." He said.

Godric looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a confused face. "Magic? Am I supposed to know what that is?" The elf looked at him in response, dumbfounded.

"You know of the existence of beasts, elves, and dwarves, yet you do not know of magic?" He asked. Godric responded in return with a blank stare. "It seems that we will be here longer than expected. Luckily, we have the entire night along with tomorrow to finish everything. Hopefully." The elf prince sighed.

The boy was surprised at what the elven prince had said. "Woah--are you serious? All of this, in less than a night and a day?" he continued. "Not necessarily," lómë replied. "It took me thirty years to fully understand and absorb in every record in this library, but in your case, an introduction will do." Godric looked at the collection in front of him. "This is what you call an introduction?" he replied while looking at the foreign writings and symbols in front of him.

"Yes," the elf replied with a blank stare. "Now, let us begin."

lómë waved his hand over the writings, and the foreign language moved and shook to the point where Godric could understand what was written. "This is our mother tongue," Godric said, amazed by what he was witnessing. "I made some adjustments and decided to decipher it in the one you were most familiar with." lómë replied. "To start Godric, I do have to remind you that what you are about to hear now will most likely change the way you view the world, prepare yourself." the elf warned him, to which the boy replied with a quiet, but enthusiastic nod.

"Good. Now--Primera, our home, is a place that is full of mystery. Even we elves are subject to questions regarding the land itself. Since the dawn of creation, the essence of life which we call mana, has coursed throughout the world, but nowhere else in the known lands has it been concentrated to its purest form, other than here." The elven prince explained as Godric looked on. "As such, life itself has adjusted to it which has given birth to all sorts of beings. It flows within our blood, and every being is given access to use this gift according to their will." he continued.

"The first elves acquired the needed knowledge and understanding to use mana. We then passed this on to the other races, such as the mermen, the dwarves, and the race of men. What we did not expect until later on, was that your race--was more compatible in using mana more than the others, even to ours." lómë picked up a book and opened a page that contained a detailed illustration of men in combat. The sketch was gruesome and realistic, yet beautiful to the point where Godric felt like he was there. Horrifyingly immaculate, He thought.

"Our earlier understanding of mana was wrong," the elf continued. "It can be controlled and used in many ways, yes--but we, who were blessed with long life, were blinded from the truth. It is because for mana to be learned quickly and efficiently utilized, one must gain a full understanding of their mortality, and who else would understand it better than the race of Men?" He looked at Godric. "Your kind has been known to wage battle after battle against one another, all for the sake of riches, land, and meaningless death. In the eyes of other races, such things mean nothing to us." The boy could only try and avoid looking at lómë in the eyes as he knew the truth in his words.

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"The usage of magic can only grow stronger when an individual is faced with impending danger or death. This caused your race to grow in power over the last three ages, starting with the first king of Men, Unrel Wolfsbane, leading Primera to what it is now," lómë said.

"Each Great House also has a foundation of magic. House Alastrassa is a special case, as we were blessed with both the foundation of Illusion and Restoration. However, being special does not mean we're the most powerful. We have had many contenders in terms of power over the years--a good number of them even came from your race."

"House Ilyn has done a remarkable job in keeping such power intact through the use of the Codex. Me and my sister were yet to be born before it was created, and even now we stand in awe of it. I cannot even begin to comprehend how it was made." Godric looked at another page which contained a sketch of the artifact, which was a giant tome of ancient design. In the center was an amulet that contained the blood of all four major races that inhabited Primera, bounding them to its will.

"What happens if we break the rules found within?" the boy asked. "Well, it depends on what rule you broke. The simpler the rule, the lighter the consequence." lómë replied. "There is also what we call sacred vows in which a rule was imposed by utilizing mana," he continued. "They are rare in nature, and can only be created through the use of a vessel or an enchanted relic, such as the Codex." Godric pondered at the idea and turned to the elf.

"How many are there?" He asked, curious. "Sacred vows? From what I know, there are only five vows in the Codex. Many sacred vows exist in other lands, but I've yet to discover them. I've also heard tales of sacred vows in living--" the elf prince quickly stopped speaking.

Godric noticed the shift in behavior. "lómë?" He looked at the prince, concerned. "Are you okay?" lómë responded by fixing his posture.

"It's nothing. Let's continue onto a different topic, shall we?" The prince smiled at the boy. Godric obliged, but he knew a fake smile once he saw one. After all, it was something he was all too familiar with.

"Now, as I've said earlier, mana can be applied in various methods. For our house, we use restoration and illusion magic. I used illusion magic during the throne room--May I ask, you felt like your senses were...diluted, did you?" Godric replied with a nod, vividly remembering what had happened.

"It goes the same for the rest of those who were present. However, from my perspective and for the ones capable of shielding themselves from magic, you merely stood still and quiet as if you were sculptures." This left Godric both amazed and shocked at the idea.

Is this real? Godric thought to himself. To think there was such power in the world. The elf's words had somewhat left the young man at a loss for words.

lómë looked at him and quickly understood what Godric had felt. "I know this might be too much for you to understand." the prince said. "You are confused, lost, scared--even," he sensed Godric's conflicted emotions. "Each one of us has the right to use this...this gift. Not to worry as I will teach you how to harness this power. Wield it as you wish. You have my word."

Godric looked at the elf with doubt. Doubt that was not directed towards the prince, but to himself; as he believed it to be impossible that he would be able to learn all of this in such a short amount of time. Nevertheless, he realized that he was far too deep in already into this madness. He needed all the help that he could get and replied to lómë with a nod of gratefulness. "All right, where do we start?" Godric asked the elven prince.

The two spent half the night continuing to study the basics, with Godric slowly picking up and understanding how mana worked; how it could be manipulated into related forms, and the dangers it possessed when used. In the middle of the night, they carried a few things and planned to transfer to another room that lómë told Godric to be his favorite one when he was still a youngling. "You might have noticed a few differences between me and Anarórë," the prince spoke to Godric as they walked.

"Not only is she physically superior, but our druids foresee that she has the potential to surpass even my father in that aspect." He continued.

"That's amazing, but what about you?" Godric asked. "In my case, I was always subpar when it came to physical combat," lómë replied, sighing. "However, what I lack in strength, I make up with a natural affinity for mana." He explained.

"My father being one of the firstborns, boasts a large quantity of mana. It took a few centuries of his life to reach full mastery over magic. In my case, I was noted to be a prodigy. I learned faster than him, despite our gap in age and experience." Godric looked on, amazed as they were nearing their destination.

"I know most of the forms of illusion and restoration magic that he does, but I still require more training in polishing my skill, as evidenced in the throne room. If it was him casting such a spell instead of me, all of us would be under the effects." Godric was impressed at what the elf had said, now seeing the true gap between the father and his son. He then recalled his first encounter with the king.

"I felt like, he had this...pressure around him. I wasn't even looking at him yet, but I could feel a heavy presence in the room," he described the events. "Every time he spoke, I felt like I was under the force of a raging river. His stare pierced through me. I could feel him reading my mind and emotions effortlessly." lómë looked at the boy. "It is because he has achieved the highest peak of mana control. In my lifetime, excluding the ones hiding their presence, I have only known less than twenty individuals who can utilize this form. When used outside our domain, it attracts unwanted attention. This is why Father only utilizes the form here," he explained as Godric listened intently.

"...Are you able to do it?" The boy asked. "You flatter me too much, my friend." lómë replied, smiling.

"We're here." the two stopped in front of an entranceway that led to a wide, open room. "What, no magical doors or secret passages this time?" lómë laughed at the remark. "We like to keep some things simple sometimes too, you know." He quipped.

They entered, and just mere moments later, Godric could feel the shift in the air around him. He suddenly felt heavy. His breathing tightened, and his eyesight began to blur. A few seconds passed, and the boy found himself on his knees, desperately grabbing a hold of himself. "Calm yourself, Godric," the elf said as he looked at him with a blank stare. "We are in the Room of Ascendancy. The natural concentration of mana tests all who enter this room, and it all starts with what you are experiencing now." Godric lay on the floor in agony, clutching his heart as it began to ache as well.

"Do not reject it, Godric," lómë continued. "Paint a picture of mana flowing through you. Direct where it will go. Where the mana goes, do not reject it." Godric had difficulty understanding what he had meant but tried regardless. He closed his eyes and attempted to create his depiction of mana. Water. Godric immediately thought. Crystal clear water. He then imagined the flow of blood, merging the two. For some reason, Godric envisioned the water to have a bluish hue after merging. He went along with the imagery and started to imagine mana flowing outwards from his chest, traveling throughout his body.

Moments passed, and the pain finally subsided. The boy was eventually able to stand using his strength. lómë looked at him, proud. "Good," the prince said. "You passed. I never doubted you for a second." He continued.

"That sensation...what was that?" Godric asked him. "That was a test of how well your mana control is," the elf replied. "This was a room created by my father to test one's affinity with mana--by forcefully awakening it. Individuals who failed have shown to still have access to mana, but struggle when using it. You, my friend, passed with minimal effort."

"Minimal effort? I was barely able to pass, let alone breathe at the time," Godric told the elf. "Yes, and those who were recorded to pass the test suffered for ages before they succeeded." lómë quickly replied. "Most of my kind had varied results when tested, with the lone exception of me," he continued. "When I entered the room, I felt nothing but a slight tingle in my hand. I felt disappointed, but the druids were left astounded."

Godric looked at him in disbelief. Ever since he arrived in Mistveil Forest, he had held the elven prince in high regard. He took him in as a friend, a student, and now, he stood in awe at his potential.

"However, Godric, I have a feeling you might turn out to be better than me in this aspect." The elf said. This caught Godric off guard.

"Me?" He asked. "That's impossible. How?" The prince smiled at the boy's naivety. "Earlier on, you displayed a level of adaptability I've never seen before. Your body was quick to adjust to the mana that was awakened, even for a mortal. I have a few theories on how this happened but let us focus on the fact that it took you only less than ten minutes to control it."

"So...what does that have to do with anything?" The boy asked the elf. "High adaptability to mana is important, as using it in your foundation's most basic form, along with its branches requires different methods of image projection." lómë replied as he began to conjure an illusory image out of thin air which depicted a flowing stream of liquid, similar to what Godric had imagined earlier to pass the test.

"In restoration magic, we project our mana to flow outwards from our core and toward the damaged area, of which we then project our mana to showcase a green hue." The illusion followed suit as to what the elf had said.

"When healing others, we simply do the same but picture an image where we allow the mana to slowly flow out of our bodies, and into those who were wounded. Restoration is a taxing form of magic, but we elves have no need to worry about the repercussions as we were blessed with naturally long lifespans." He continued.

"Hold on--mana and life are connected?" Godric asked him, taken aback. "Yes, and they are more interconnected than you might think," lómë replied. "Using mana is like using a double-edged sword; become too reckless, and you will get hurt in the process. The more mana you consume, the more your health is strained. However, as your mana is restored, your health is restored as well--similar to how wounds heal, so does the mana. This is why restoration comes naturally to our kind for we are blessed with immortality, whereas for mortals such as you it is a dangerous form of magic, so I advise against using it casually unless you have a relic that can aid in the process." The elf warned Godric.

Godric nodded to reassure the prince that he understood the danger. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind. Now, what foundation of magic do I have?" He asked the elf, excited as lómë was taken aback.

"If I were to be completely honest, I have no idea my friend." He replied.

"What do you mean by you don't have any idea?" The boy asked. "I thought you were all-knowing--I mean, you taught me all of this so far, so why don't you know what form of magic I have?".

"It is hard to explain," the elf replied. "You see, forms of magic depend on who the user is as an individual. Not all elves are as effective when it comes to using restoration and illusion magic--this aspect of ours is mainly because of my father's lineage and influence over the realm." The elf continued. "The same goes for me, and for the others, I presume."

"So what now?" Godric asked, disappointed. "It seems pretty useless knowing that you know how to control mana, but not how to use it." He said while looking around the room for an answer.

"You go and find yourself." lómë replied. "What do you mean by that?" The boy replied, curious at the elf's remark.

"Do not take this as a disadvantage Godric. You were blessed with something far greater than you might imagine. Unlike us, whose magic was molded since birth, you were awakened with an empty slate. You have yet to discover who you are. The canvas is yours--experience things and paint your picture. The possibilities for you are endless." The prince kindly explained, whose words gave Godric a different perspective regarding his situation.

"Thank you again, lómë." The boy replied in response to the elf.

"The pleasure is all mine. Now, where should we begin?" lómë asked. However, before they could continue, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was Anarórë, all dressed in her elven armor, her bow shining as if being bathed in moonlight. She stood, staring quietly at them.

"That was good, dear sister. How long have you been observing us?" The elf asked his twin.

"Long enough, brother. I'm afraid to break this to you and disrupt your session, but Father calls for us," Anarórë replied. "The council has ended, and the trial has been chosen. Father wants a word with the mortal." She continued as she turned and disappeared.

The prince let out a sigh. "Still as cold-hearted as ever," he said. "Come, let us go and discover what the council has planned for you."

The two then began to walk out of the room. lómë was the first to leave, but before Godric stepped out, he swore he saw the room swiftly changing in color--from a white and calm hue to a dark and unnerving one. He stopped to check if his eyes were playing tricks on him but he eventually brushed it off as a freak occurrence and followed the prince to where the elven king was waiting for them.