Caldrice sputtered and coughed as the sound of a roaring crowd stirred him from his slumber. He winced, as he flung off the blanket which covered him, and struggled to leave the bed he was in. Gritting his teeth, he flung an arm to support his chest, feeling the tightly bound bandage that embraced him, “What?” He said in a hushed tone, looking around through the dark, cluttered room filled with discarded clothes and books. It was not his room, for it was much too small for that.

  He rose slowly, keeping pace with the pain that resonated from his chest, knowing that what was beneath the bandage to be far more serious than a superficial graze. Caldrice brought his hand to the wall, leaning on it for support as he looked to the only window in the room. Peeling back the dust-stained curtains, he glanced outside to the sight of an angry mob with torches raised high shouting things that were indistinguishable through the stone of the second story window. In the center of the crowd was Kanreth, facing them alone, blade drawn, looking between each face with a ferocity to his gaze.

  Caldrice pulled himself away, the frantic beating of his heart sending a pulse of pain which was mitigated by the sudden surge of adrenaline. In an awkward shuffle, he moved for the stairs, attempting to descend them swiftly, but tripping himself over his feet in his haste and falling down them. He gritted his teeth, using the rail to lift himself up again, before carefully descending the remaining way. To his surprise, the door was wide-open, the cool breeze washing over him like a distant memory against the warmth that clung to his skin. He looked around, frantically, for anything he could use to help his mentor, and noticed an old, worn blade leaning against the wall. It was suited to a man of Kanreth’s hulking frame, and not to one as lithe as Caldrice, but he reached for it regardless, and drug it across the floor onto the cobble streets outside.

  The jarring sound of metal on stone brought the bloodthirsty shouts of, “Death to the Erastian!” to a halt as Caldrice braced himself with the massive blade with both hands – steadying himself against the burning in his chest.

  “Leave him alone!” He shouted into the crowd of several dozen, their gaze shifted to him in a similar, frenzied appearance, “Leave him alone, or I swear to the Maker that I will make you regret it.”

  The closest person to him, a middle-aged man scoffed at him, approaching with his torch, a cold, calculating look in his eyes, “How will you do that, huh?” He said, taunting, “That blade’s awfully big for you, maybe a bit too large to handle.”

  “Get back!” He shouted, slashing out at the air before the man, sending himself off-balance.

  “Ha, of course! He can’t even properly swing a sword!” The man said, his face twisting cruelly, “I’ll teach you never to swing a blade at me, boy.” He said, taking one step forward, only to find his other foot unable to move upon the second, “What?” He said, astonished, as a root had slithered from the ground, wrapping itself around his foot.

  “You can threaten me.” Kanreth said, his aura parting the crowd as he approached the man from behind, “You can even hurt me.” His voice slowly chilled, as the root slithered across the man’s form, constricting him, “But never threaten my pupil.” Without breaking pace, he went to Caldrice – the roots that held the man in place slowly beginning to drag him down into the ground as his bloodcurdling pleas for help fell upon fearful ears, “Help him if you want!” He shouted from over his shoulder, “I certainly won’t stop you, but if I see so much as what looks like a flicker of flame coming towards my windows, I won’t stop with just him this time.” Gently, Kanreth took the blade from Caldrice, sheathing his own before placing a hand upon his shoulder, “Come on, boy, let’s get you back inside. This excitement isn’t good for your health.”

  “Why were those people out there?” Caldrice asked, clutching his chest.

  Kanreth let out a soft growl, “It appears as if someone has misconstrued what happened at the Speaking Stones.”

  The door shut with a heavy thud, the deadbolt sharply clicking into place, “Adelia?” Caldrice tentatively asked.

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot we need to talk about since you’ve been out.”

  “How long was I unconscious?”

  Kanreth sighed, patting his shoulder, “A couple of days.” He frowned, clearing his throat, “It was a hit that should’ve killed you.” He admitted, “A shard that sharp? It’s a miracle that I carried you back here without so much as a scratch or graze.”

  “Where is this pain coming from then?” Caldrice asked.

  “I don’t have much triage experience, but it felt like the impact left you with a few damaged ribs.” Kanreth helped him into a chair, walking away to replace his blades against the wall. Over his shoulder, he lifted a brow, “How much do you remember?”

  “From the Speaking Stones?” Caldrice asked, humming softly, “The last thing I remember is you running towards her with a crazed look about you.” Caldrice frowned, “You didn’t hurt her, did you?” He sat up, shaking his head, “No, no, Kanreth, you didn’t, did you?” He asked again, his eyes wide.

  “If shoving her into the snow while I grabbed you hurt her, then she’s made of very thin parchment.” Kanreth admitted, “I’m kind of surprised though, Guardian Delarin hasn’t paid me a visit, but I can only assume his judgement towards it all based on how he’s yet to come out of his dingy cave to dismiss these hordes of angry mobs.”

  “Has Adelia come by?”

  “Once, to see how you were going.” Kanreth smirked, amused, “I turned her away.”

  “Oh, Kanreth, come on.” Caldrice said, frustrated.

  “I’m not interested in talking to some unstable, arrogant Arcanist.” Kanreth growled, “Especially not one who could’ve killed you.” Kanreth sighed, turning to face him from across the room, “Caldrice, you can’t blame me. What if that frail Guardian had split me in half with one of his spells? I doubt you’d be pleased.”

  “No, but it’s not helping the situation. You’re speaking in hypotheticals, Teacher, and I’m perfectly fine all things considered.”

  “You could’ve died.” Kanreth repeated.

  “How didn’t I die?” Caldrice asked.

  Kanreth stopped, gritting his teeth before letting out a puff of air through flared nostrils, “I can’t talk about that.”

  “Why can’t you?” Caldrice struggled to stand.

   “Caldrice do-“ Kanreth started.

  “Why can’t you tell me? What’s so important about me not knowing?!” He shouted, holding his chest, coughing heavily, “Why?” He wheezed, wiping saliva from the corner of his mouth.

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  “It has to do with that thing beneath the bandage.” Kanreth said stoically.

  “What about my mark?” Caldrice said bitterly, struggling to regain his composure.

   “It’s probably the reason why you’re still alive.” He said softly.

  “What else?”

  “I don’t know, boy, I really don’t.” Kanreth said earnestly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Your father didn’t tell me much of anything. The only one who does, for all I know, is Delarin Frostfall.”

  Caldrice’s legs shook as he fell back into the chair, “My father?” He weakly parroted, “Who?” He said, breathlessly, “Who is he?”

  “Boy, don’t make me tell you.” Kanreth implored.

  “Why not?” Caldrice asked, confused, “Why can’t I know?”

  “Because you have my ill-temper, and my fiery spirit. You’d hunt him to the Veiled Sea and beyond if you had to, which is why I can’t.” He said lowly, crossing his arms solidly.

  “Wh-“ Caldrice began, cut off by the heavy thud of the door’s knocker hitting the wood.

   Kanreth pressed his finger to his lips, moving towards the door, reaching for his broadsword, before opening the door with the blade hidden behind it.

   “Ah, the hot headed Erastian that hurt my daughter.” Said an expressionless Delarin, a gathering of people looking at the interaction, “I believe this meeting is overdue.”

   “Delarin Frostfall, to what do I owe this baseless accusation and overall displeasure?” Kanreth replied in turn, his face twisted into a scowl.

  “Baseless? You assaulted my daughter! How can that be baseless?” He shouted.

  “Because there’s no proof, and if she says otherwise then she’s a liar.”

  “She didn’t have to say anything. You obviously assaulted her and Caldrice.” Delarin said slowly, a low growl to his voice.

  Kanreth laughed at the Guardian, arms crossed, “Caldrice? I hurt Caldrice? My student who has known me for the better part of a decade? That Caldrice? The one standing right behind me?”

  Delarin peered behind the man’s burly frame, to the bandaged youth, “Yes.” Delarin said stoically, “That Caldrice.” A smile formed on his lips, as it had many times in the past, but this time it unnerved him, “Caldrice?” He said softly, “Would you mind recanting the events as they happened? If you’d like, we can do so away from this barbarian.”

  Caldrice looked between Kanreth and Delarin, the two prominent figures of his life for most of his recollected life, his lips pursed downward in an unsteady frown, “I’d rather not.”

  “You don’t have anything to be afraid of, Caldrice.” Delarin continued, staring intensely at Caldrice. “Just tell the truth.”

  “Yes. Just tell the truth, boy.” Kanreth said calmly, nodding at him.

  Caldrice closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at Delarin again, “I went to find her like you asked me to – to try to calm her down.” Caldrice said slowly, pacing his breathing, “Kanreth stopped me, and we caught up for a bit, but then he told me that Adelia had come to invite him to the Remembrance, and offered for me to go with him.” He moved forward, leaning against Kanreth for support, “He said he might know where she would be, and he took me to the Speaking Stones.” His tone became flat, “She was unstable, Master, she was causing a storm that was affecting Frostfall.”

  “And then?” Delarin pressed in an inquisitive tone.

  “She started to lash out at me.” He looked to Kanreth, “Kanreth intervened, and when it looked like the two were going to get out of control, I tried to step in.”

  “And that’s when Kanreth assaulted Adelia, yes?” Delarin prodded.

  “Let the boy speak.” Kanreth growled.

  "It’s when Adelia assaulted me.”

  Delarin lifted his brows, “Pardon me?”

  “Adelia assaulted me.” Caldrice parroted.

  “She could’ve killed him.” Kanreth added.

  Delarin pointed to Caldrice, “Beneath that bandage, I presume?”

  Caldrice nodded.

  “I’d like to see it.”

  “No.” Kanreth interjected.

  “I will see it, or I’ll maintain my conclusion that you assaulted both of them, and have conditioned Caldrice to respond.”

  “He woke up to a rioting crowd outside of my house not even an hour ago!” Kanreth shouted, his fists clenched.

  “Kanreth!” Caldrice said sharply, “That’s enough, I’ll show him. It’s okay.” His fingers traced the boundaries of the bandage, finding where Kanreth had tied it off at before slowly working it free. He gritted his teeth, quickly becoming frustrated at how stubborn the knot was being before tugging at it, “Oh, come on!” He shouted, the tension in his chest causing him to latch onto Kanreth for support again.

  “Here.” Kanreth softly said, shifting Caldrice to the wall as he took a knee and began to unravel the bandage, “You don’t need to do it all on your own. You’re not alone right now, even though it may seem like it.”

  “I can take it from here, Kanreth.” Caldrice said distantly. “Thank you.” Leaning against the wall, he pulled the bandage away from himself before dropping it to the floor. The black, eldritch brand that had covered his chest from what would seem like his second birth was no longer dark and dormant. Beneath the bandage, the black marking had taken on an Arcana infused blue hue surrounded by a chain of sickly discolored bruises.

  Kanreth looked away, frowning.

  Delarin straightened his posture, and his robes, as he looked at the marking with an air of fear, “Kanreth.” He thoughtfully said, “What have you done?”

  “What have I done?” Kanreth parroted, “Look at what your daughter did!” He shouted, “I didn’t do this, your abomination did!”

   “She cares for him, she’d never do something as awful!”

  “You can feel her Arcana in it!” Kanreth rhythmically shouted. “It radiates the same vile, cold Arcana that you do.”

   “Why is it important?” Caldrice asked, shifting his weight uneasily. “What is this thing?” He asked, looking at Delarin.

  Delarin looked at Caldrice, his eyes closing for a few moments before sighing, “It’s something your father told me never to explain.” He frowned, looking away. “It’s why I can’t keep you safe anymore.”

  Kanreth opened his mouth to speak, but bites his tongue, listening to him.

  “Then what am I? Who am I?” Caldrice cautiously asked, “Is that too much to ask?”

  “Yes, that is.” Delarin said, a distant pain swelling in his voice, “You are Caldrice.” He smiled sadly, “Nothing more, and nothing less.”

  Caldrice gritted his teeth, a rage rising in his eyes as he looked at his master. The two were only a few steps apart, but to him it felt like worlds. Thoughts raced violently through his mind. Had he always been this callous and disregarding? Why was he hiding something as simple as where he came from? Who was he?

  “I think you should go.” Kanreth said, breaking the tension, “Let the boy rest.”

  “May I come by in the morning to see how you’re doing, Caldrice?” Delarin asked, his expression shifting from pained to pleasant.

  “No.” Caldrice said simply.

  Kanreth looked at Delarin analytically, burly arms crossed against his chest, “I hope you’re safe on your walk back, Guardian.” He said, moving to get the door as Delarin slipped past.

  “Ah, yes.” He said stoically, “There’s quite a bit of things that I’d like to talk to Adelia about.” He smiled, bowing, “Family stuff, but I do appreciate you telling me what happened.”

  Clearing his throat, Kanreth nodded, the heavy door slowly shutting before he could get another word in edgewise, “Goodnight, Delarin Frostfall.” The door fell into place with a heavy thud, and the deadbolt hit the stone with a sharp click. As Kanreth turned around, he found Caldrice struggling to ascend the stairs, “A bit easier to go down, but not up?” Kanreth said gently as he went to help.

  Caldrice sharply looked over his shoulder, shouting, “I can do this on my own, Kanreth! I don’t need your help, or Delarin’s.”

  Kanreth stood there, watching as his student struggled to do the simple task of pushing his weight beneath his feet from one stair to the next, pained by the labored grunts of what should’ve been an easy task for any abled-body person. What was a labored effort eventually turned into a pained crawl, but even that effort failed as he laid motionless against the worn wood of Kanreth’s staircase. Once he was sure that he had stopped moving for the night, Kanreth moved over, and gently picked Caldrice up, ascending the stairs before laying him onto the bed to rebind his bandages, “You did good, boy.” Kanreth said, a forlorn tune to his voice, his eyes looking to the marking that banished beneath the bandages that branded Caldrice’s chest. The glow, however, permeated through, something it hadn’t done before. Melodically, he mumbled once more, “You did good.” Before going off downstairs to find a way to a haunted sleep of his own.