David rubbed his eyes and stumbled after the others as they set out, disappearing one by one into the forest.

  Outside of the clearing, the shadows were deep, the moonlight failing to pierce through the thick canopy overhead.

  “Some light?” Cero nudged Dolen.

  A magical circle flared overhead as the mage raised his hand. David could see it take form and fill with mana, as if in slow motion. Finally, it was completed and everything around them grew a bit brighter.

  Illusion? David focused on his own sight, trying to replicate the circle on a smaller scale.

  The group moved quickly but quietly, weaving between trees and ducking under low branches.

  David quickly filed away the spell for later, struggling to keep up. He stayed close to Dolen, mimicking his steps as best he could.

  The first sign of trouble came as a low, rumbling growl from deeper within the forest.

  “Troll.” Cero said, no urgency to his tone.

  Before David could react, a hulking beast, at least three meters tall, crashed through the undergrowth.

  Cero and Dolen barely slowed.

  The monster swiped, The knight ducked under.

  Cero drove a sword into the troll’s knee, buckling it instantly.

  A magic circle. Too fast to follow. Dolen flicked his fingers, and a flame burst right in the troll’s face.

  The beast stumbled over and fell.

  Cero carved its throat open before it could react.

  It was over in seconds.

  David stood frozen, wide-eyed.

  Murky blood was pooling on the forest floor… Yet neither Cero nor Dolen even looked winded.

  A fierce, almost desperate awe welled up inside him.

  Untouchable. Unafraid. With such power, he could protect anyone.

  They pressed on.

  As they went deeper, David noticed the forest changing around them.

  The air grew thicker, damp with a heavy sweet scent. Cinnamon?

  The trees were different here: their trunks slimmer, their bark smoother, and a strange, pale glow seemed to pulse faintly from within their leaves.

  Cero paused. The man who had just slaughtered a troll without blinking looked surprised.

  "Roelle trees," he murmured. "The ancients used them to mark legacy halls. Let's search the area."

  Legacy? Sounds important.

  David stepped closer to one of the trees, curiosity prickling at the back of his mind.

  Not very good at marking, are you?

  He squinted into the dim glow, trying to understand how anyone could spot them in the thick forest.

  Then, instinctively, he focused more on his mana sight.

  The world shifted.

  The Roelle trees flared to life in his vision, brilliant rivers of mana coursing through their trunks and branches.

  It was like standing in a forest of stars, each tree a living lantern.

  He flinched, staggering back a step.

  "Careful," Dolen said lazily, catching him by the collar before he tripped.

  David just nodded, heart pounding from the sudden intensity.

  They pressed forward carefully, weaving between the glowing trees.

  Eventually, Dolen raised a hand, signaling them to stop.

  Through the trees ahead, David spotted a rocky outcrop… jagged and unnatural. Chiseled?

  Figures moved around it. Soldiers. Torches flickered in the dark.

  "This is it," Dolen said under his breath. "Pity we’re not the first ones here. I wonder how many new spells I could learn from it…"

  David peered at the rocky formation.

  A team of rebel scouts just so happened to stumble upon a seemingly secret ruins guarded by, probably noble, soldiers?

  David shook his head. He was overthinking it as always. And it never ended well for him.

  These were his friends now. His people. He wanted to believe in them, for at least as long as they didn't give him a reason not to.

  The group moved a bit back, to the edge of the Roelle trees area.

  A delicate tug at his sleeve pulled him from his thoughts.

  Dalia stood beside him, grinning.

  "Hey... Could you help me get one of those glowy branches?" she whispered. "They're so pretty."

  David blinked, then nodded.

  Dalia was clearly expecting him to lift her up.

  David focused on his legs, pushing a steady stream of mana into them. The feeling was almost nostalgic… Grainwick. Simpler times.

  He leapt lightly onto a low branch, maybe a few meters up, and snapped off a glowing tendril.

  When he landed, he handed it to Dalia, who just stood there, jaw hanging open. She accepted the shiny token and immediately began weaving it into a circlet with nimble fingers.

  A low whistle broke the quiet.

  "Nice enhancement, kid," Cero said, grinning. "Dolen must be quite the teacher."

  "Huh?" Dolen replied, sounding mildly amused. "I didn’t teach him that."

  Cero raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.

  David tucked the moment away, an ember of pride burning quietly in his chest.

  He could surprise even them.

  For a little while, as Dalia placed the half-finished circlet on her head and posed dramatically for her sister, David let himself believe that everything would be alright.

  Eventually, Cero turned serious again.

  "This is too big to pass up on," he said, looking toward the rocky ruins. "We'll have to visit when we're better prepared."

  They melted back into the forest, the glowing trees slowly fading behind them.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  David lingered for a moment. What mysteries waited inside?

  Legacy halls… Now that was a name with a ring to it.

  Then he turned and followed the others back.

  When they made their way closer to the city, Talia and Dalia approached him, promising to join him more often on his training.

  His little jumping stunt had seemingly impressed them.

  David smiled, his steps lighter than they had been in days. The shining circlet, now on Talia’s head, looked cute with the silver hair.

  Suddenly, Dolen caught him by the shoulder. "Not done yet, kid," he said.

  A shiver went through David’s spine.

  He swallowed hard, the sight of a bristlemane battering down on him the day before vivid before his eyes.. “Yes, mister Dolen?”

  “It would seem you still have some tricks to show me. I must have been too lenient on you. Let’s continue with the training.”

  The sun was just beginning to rise from behind the massive city in the distance, filtering golden rays through the misty trees.

  Without ceremony, Dolen turned and raised a hand. A circle of runes spun to life in front of him, fast and sharp.

  A high speed ball of water hit a nearby tree, breaking the bark and scattering it around.

  "Burst," Dolen said simply. "Good for anything you’d want to strike with a mace. Now you try."

  David scrambled to copy the pattern he'd glimpsed. His eyes sketched clumsy lines through the air, forcing mana into a crude copy of Dolen’s runes.

  It was much more complex than the spark, and yet the runes filled easily… Almost to the end. David got a little overeager, his spell failing just before it was complete.

  A shockwave exploded from the circle, hurting David’s hand and throwing him back.

  As usual, a barrier prevented his fall.

  Dolen snorted. "Not bad for a first try. Again."

  “It was easier than it looked, why?” David asked as he massaged his arm.

  “It’s morning. Everything's wet.” Dolen said. “Try this for a change.”

  A magic circle erupted into a jet of flames. The same spell Dolen had fried the bristlemane with some days back.

  David tried to repeat the pattern and immediately started to struggle. The runes were much harder to fill, trying to wrestle from under his control.

  He gave up almost immediately, sparing himself the unnecessary pain. How can Dolen do it so fast? So easily?

  If the previous attempt felt like pouring water between cups, this was like trying to thread a needle with shaky hands.

  “So I can’t cast fire magic when it’s damp?” David asked.

  “The more likely something were to happen naturally, the easier it is to evoke.” Dolen paused, thinking for a second. “Well, it’s more nuanced than that, but I couldn’t be bothered learning all that nonsense.”

  “Nonsense?” David’s eyes widened. “Isn’t this super important for a mage?”

  “Pfff. Just be better and force your will on the world.” Dolen shrugged.

  David’s shoulders sagged. He could not agree with his teacher. Not that anyone had asked.

  He threw himself back into the work. His eyes ached from focusing on the runes. His body grew tired from constantly taking in mana.

  Again and again, he shaped circles, copied patterns demonstrated by Dolen.

  Once or twice, he managed a weak burst that sputtered like a dying fountain.

  Each successful attempt took him minutes to accomplish and yet, it felt like a miracle. He was finally doing it. Magic.

  Not just purifying herbs or making potions either. He cast spells.

  Dolen ‘watched’ while fiddling with some greenery, occasionally tossing out a correction.

  "Don’t rush, focus on control."

  "Too large spell."

  "Don't grunt like that — you'll scare the monsters away."

  David bit his tongue, forcing himself to stay silent.

  After a few hours of grueling repetition, David sat down to rest. Dolen was still playing with a stick he had found.

  David finally dared to ask: "Why don't you… you know… actually practice with me?"

  Dolen arched an eyebrow, lazily tossing the stick up and down. "I'm already strong," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I'd rather use the power than keep earning it."

  David frowned, unsure how to even respond.

  "But yeah," Dolen added with a shrug. "I train a lot less than I used to. To quote my old man: Great control, capacity? Not so much.”

  “But I thought capacity grows with practice.” David’s heart sped up. Was Aura’s knowledge not true after all?

  “It does. After fifteen years of grinding my guts out..." He smirked. "What's one more year gonna change?"

  David stared at him, sweaty and sore, his fingers still tingling from spellwork.

  The answer twisted something inside him.

  Dolen was undeniably powerful. He lived in a different realm from David, just like the giant fox did. And yet… Such complacency boiled David’s blood.

  Why would he stop? Why give up?

  David, on the other hand, wanted to understand magic. To know it the way Aura understood alchemy.

  Like engineering.

  Dolen clapped his hands together, breaking David’s thoughts. "Anyway. Get used to it. Such is the life of a battlemage. You pick a spell or two, practice it until your eyes bleed, and hope you can still focus enough to use it as arrows fly by your head."

  David nodded stiffly, but inside, he cursed. He could see the brutal logic. Still, it wasn’t enough. Not for him.

  Even with a tutor, the academy was the only real answer.

  The mage waved a hand. "Enough. We’re going back before you collapse."

  Dolen must have noticed his disposition, mistaking it for exhaustion. Well, not much of a mistake. David didn’t argue.

  He trudged back to the city by Dolen’s side, his body aching. Whenever he blinked, runes would fill the void within his eyes.

  How long until he started thinking entirely in the runic language? He chuckled to himself.

  Now that training was over, there was one last hurdle to overcome - the fallout from him being gone for the night.

  He had fun, so he didn't quite regret it, but he would have to lie through the confrontation. Again. Not something he enjoyed.

  His steps took him toward Mason's retreat first. Time to collect his pay was nigh.

  The lamplight flickered, casting long shadows over the office. On the table lay a ledger, within which was chaos that only Viera could navigate.

  Hiveo stood by the desk, propped against his cane, slowly flipping through the translated documents Marco had been working on.

  His finger traced the lines without urgency, his mouth set in a neutral line.

  "Good work," he said at last, voice low. "But nothing groundbreaking." He set the stack down with a dull thud and looked up. "Have you got him to agree to the ruins yet?"

  “Haven’t come up yet. Give it time.” Viera leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly. "But from how happy he was to take our gold earlier today, he's almost there. Don't butt in."

  The last part came out sharper than intended.

  Hiveo’s habit of pressing never sat well with her, especially when it involved people. He just didn’t have a hand for it.

  Hiveo nodded and started to turn around.

  Viera sighed. "It would be easier if we could push the heist a month back.”

  There was a pause. Longer than she liked.

  “Nonsense. Just force the kid if it’s too hard.” Hiveo shook his head.

  ”Nevermind.” She cursed under her breath. “How about my last proposal, then?”

  Hiveo shifted, like he always did when uncomfortable. "Too dangerous. Too many eyes watching. It would be like walking into the town hall and screaming ‘Come, arrest us!’"

  Viera's jaw tightened. She had proposed moving their families out of the city, but deep down she knew: Hiveo was damn right.

  Still, her gut was not sitting well. She tried once more, hoping to dissuade him. "We’re putting too much on the line. We’re already serving ourselves on a silver platter. You know that."

  Hiveo's cane tapped a slow rhythm. When he spoke, his words were measured but carried an undertone of urgency that surprised her.

  "There used to be a massive congregation of the ancient tribes here," he said. "This land was the heart of their… country. If those ruins house an archive..."

  He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "We need to get in there before the academy does."

  Viera studied him carefully. There was a gleam in his eye. Desperation.

  For a brief moment, she considered refusing outright. But for rebellion to succeed, someone had to take risks. It was their turn to do their part.

  Still, she hesitated. "Even if there is an archive... If it's a trap, we're walking to our deaths."

  Hiveo straightened. "It’s handled. Between the hidden passage and your illusions, we’ll be in and out before Romuald blinks."

  She didn't answer right away. She didn’t want Talia and Dalia to live in a country ruled by corrupt nobles… But she also didn’t want to risk them.

  Finally, she gave a short nod.

  Hiveo inclined his head, his face like stone, and made for the door.

  As he reached the threshold, he paused. "Trust me, Viera. It'll be clean."

  When the door shut behind him, Viera sagged back against the wall, exhaling a long, slow breath.

  His breathing had betrayed him. He was stressed and desperate. But he also held much more sway than she did.

  She rubbed her temples, trying to dismiss the gnawing unease Hiveo's agitation had stirred in her.

  They shared an ambition. A country for the people. But Hiveo… Hiveo was an enigma, even to her. He never talked about his past. Not honestly, at least.

  Her thoughts drifted to Marco. Sharp-eyed boy, serious for his age. She looked much more kindly upon him ever since her daughters grew close to him.

  He has potential.

  He just needed a little more shaping before he could recognize what was good for him.