Ariel groaned and slid out from under the blankets, realizing that he had spent enough time reminiscing. He snagged some clothes he had stashed away in Jasper’s closet the night before and dressed himself quickly.

Afterwards, he gently shook Jasper awake and they proceeded with their quiet morning ritual.

After breakfast accompanied by Alys’s companionship, Ariel made his way to the gardens behind the manor to spend some time training while Jasper studied with his private tutor. Training was a part of Ariel’s daily routine when Alys was around. On days where Alys was gone, Ariel would stick to household chores.

The gardens were breathtaking; at least at first glance. Flowers bloomed under the late spring sun, and shrubs and trees were trimmed to perfection. Everything was immaculate, but something about its up-kept appearance only reminded Ariel that it was manmade, not organic. Perhaps it was just a cultural difference, but Ariel was taught to find the beauty in nature’s imperfections and natural balance.

“Alright, ready to disappoint me yet again?” Alys joked as they passed through a gate leading to the area behind the garden where the mages were permitted to train. Here the ground was uneven and untouched by landscapers.

Ariel laughed and playfully swatted at his companion. “Oh, hush.”

As Alys began to set up charred training dummies, Ariel stripped his shirt off, not wanting to get it dirty. A flash of orange caught his eye, and he stared down at his chest. Gingerly, he touched the birthmark that resided over his heart, as it did for every mage.

The mark of Mir…

A faint smile crossed his lips as he took in its crescent moon shape. The mark was a symbol of the Goddess who breathed life into his people, and a proud symbol of the Magi race. Each mark was a reflection of the magic they bore within, different colors indicating a different type of magic. And while it was symbol of pride and power, it was also dead giveaway to anyone under suspicion. Most mage hunters would check suspected rogue mages for the mark of Mir on their chests. If found, it was more than a warrant for their arrest and enslavement.

“Ariel. Give me fifty push ups,” Alys directed, crossing his arms, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He groaned loudly in response before dropping to the ground. “You’re such a slave-driver, Alys.”

“Wouldn’t that be a change,” Alys grumbled, absently trailing his fingers over his tattoo. A dark laugh erupted from Ariel’s chest as he began his first set.

In the beginning, training had been hard for him, but over the years he had grown used to the physical exertion. If he was to protect Jasper, he would have to be physically and magically capable of doing so. And even though his magic wasn’t nearly as impressive as other mages’, he had a good handle on his flames. His eyes drifted up to Alys who was standing over him.

Alys was a good teacher despite being younger than Ariel. Even with a four year age gap, Alys still surpassed Ariel in nearly everything. Jasper’s father often boasted of Alys’s compatince, like one would brag about a prize winning show dog; talented and loyal.

I guess Alys was always mature for his age. Being born into slavery usually does that… Ariel frowned. Or maybe it was the murder…