As we continued to travel westward, I continued to hone my wind magic. By the end of the day, I was able to summon a small gust of wind on command. While I thought my mastery was rather impressive, both mother and Lucina told me that I still had a long way to go.

“With your fire magic,” mom explained, “the creation of the fire on the palm of your hand is a huge step towards mastering the element.” She glanced up at dad, who nodded his agreement. “Unlike other elements, fire is used primarily either in long range offensive spells or to augment physical attacks but does not provide much utility. Thus, controlling the exact shape and size of a magical fire is comparably less important. Air, on the other hand, relies completely on the control you have over the element.”

Mother pointed at a cup of water, which began floating in the air. “The amount of magical potential needed to equal the destructive power of fire means air mages must rely on precision, not power, to achieve their goals. The gust of wind you summoned is roughly equivalent to summoning a spark in the palm of your hand: while important, it is merely the first brick upon which you build your foundation of air magic.”

Mom set the cup of water back down. Ripples appeared on the surface, but not a single drop spilled out. “We’re going to set up camp for the night around here, I think. It’s getting dark pretty fast.” Ajax grunted assent as he hopped off the driver’s seat, tying the horses to a nearby tree.

As the rest of the group piled out of the wagon, we look at the horizon to see my father and Frank staggering over the horizon. It had been quite a long trip, and Mia had steadily refused all their requests to be allowed back onto the wagon. Reaching our little campsite, my father dramatically threw himself on the ground, groaning in mock agony. Behind him, Frank fell to his knees and began gasping in a greatly exaggerated manner, clutching his chest.

Mother’s eyes widened for a second, and a look of concern flashed over her face as she stepped forward to make sure the two men were alright. As she drew closer, my father was unable to keep a smirk off his face. Seeing that he was alright, and feeling slightly foolish for worrying about the pair, mom gently prodded dad with her boot. “Get up, you overdramatic monkey,” she laughed. “Go get some firewood, will you? Seems the only two things you’re good at nowadays is being a bad example to Gilan and providing the manual labor we need around here.”

By the time father came back with the firewood, the rest of the group had already set up a cozy campsite. As we finished stacking the firewood and kindling into a neat little triangle, dad gestured at the firepit while the other members all look at me expectantly. “Well?” dad asked. “What are you waiting for? I’m sure they’re all very eager to see your fire magic.”

Reaching out, I focused intently on the little pile of sticks. The tinder at the top of the firepit began to smoke, and sparks flew out in all directions. Then, suddenly, woooooooosh! Rather than a small flame on the kindling, the entire pile of wood ignited at once, sending orange flames shooting out a meter into the air.

Frank, who had been leaning in and watching the wood pile intently, yelped and leaped backwards, frantically brushing sparks off his shirt. As the rest of the Knightly Bards laughed uproariously, Ajax lumbered over and placed a massive hand over my shoulder.

“Good job, kiddo,” he rumbled. “That was quite the impressive fire you got going there.”

Looking up at the mountain of a man, I suddenly realized just how much he looked like a teddy bear. Then again, the massive war hammer on his back dissuaded the fluffy comparison quite swiftly. “Thanks, Mr. Ajax,” I said. He gave me a thumbs up and walked back to his seat, plopping down with a force that caused a rather alarming sound to come out of the chair.

As the night went on, the Knightly Bards laughed and talked around the fire, trading stories of their recent adventures and reminiscing about the time that they were all a team. All seven of them, including my parents, had originally come from a small coastal town near Furness city, and had traveled north to the wildlands in a bid for adventure and fame. Though they were a successful group, and each member had become a B ranked hunter, my parents had left the group once my mother started expecting a child. The life of a hunter, while rewarding, was not a good environment to raise children.

The danger of hunting rogue animals and mana beasts could very well prove fatal to a vulnerable young baby, and the distraction that protecting that baby could cause would also dangerously divide a hunter’s attention. So, giving up the hunter’s lifestyle, my parents had settled down in a little village near the Wildlands to raise me.

Leaning on my mothers shoulder, I gazed into the flame, the flying embers putting me into a trance. Suddenly, the embers formed the shape of a winged lion, leaping out into the air, jaws and claws pointed towards me…

Starting forwards, I rubbed my eyes. The embers fizzled away into the air, forming another pattern in the hypnotizing dance. My mother, seeing my movement, picked me up and headed towards the tent. “Alright, young man, that’s late enough for you. Go to get some sleep, now. We have another long day of travel ahead of us.” Tucking me into my bedroll, she gave me a quick kiss to the forehead and ducked back out of the tent.

Listening to the quiet murmurs of the hunters and the crackling of the fire, I slowly drifted to sleep.