"Spells can backfire, arrows can miss, but steel, steel will never fail you." General Katsuo Chiya, Magus Collective Infantry Division Commander

Aidric’s mind hung on the image of his father. He had never resented him for staying at the hill. He reasoned that since he could scarcely comprehend his own feelings about Madison’s death, how could he understand his father’s? His mother, however, was angry for quite some time. She had to handle all the responsibilities he neglected on the farm while raising their son. Aidric didn’t think their quarrel was the reason, but he and his father hadn’t been close after Madison’s passing. As for the reason, no one knew why but Neal. ‘I’m Dad’s favorite!’ The words echoed through Aidric’s mind again, a smile breaking on his lips as he peered up the trunk of the tree to the sunlight flittering through the leaves.

“Miss you, Sis.”

Aidric gradually rose to his feet, walked towards the edge of the branches, and nuzzled the green leaves out of the way, revealing the expanse of land their ancestors had settled on. A slow-flowing river bisected miles of rolling farmland, covered in small, moving figures. The fields stretched out to the thick tree line that separated the village of Vale from the mountain carved capital city of Inrora. Its ivory towers reached high into the sky with lilac purple caps and orange streamers flittering in the wind. The royal colors of many white-haired noble houses and aristocrats that governed the land he stood on and those beyond the mountains.

Nothing that the lavishly adorned do, however, went unnoticed by the pinnacle of society, the Ascended. These mages, possessing great power given to them by Ether, were deemed worthy to claim the throne of the Old Gods, said to reside above Inrora’s highest point, the Inrora Magic Academy. Claiming a seat and achieving immortality had been the aim of many for the past five-hundred years... with no luck. Despite the laws of the Magus Collective and life, a few mages transformed into Descended through dark, forbidden rituals. They stripped their humanity from their skeletons long ago, leaving them never lacking in eternal life but utterly devoid of anything else.

Many scholars had surmised that one of the few ways for a mortal to achieve godhood was to kill a Marked. Of which, just so happen to have stopped appearing five-hundred years ago. The amount of Ether that was rumored to flow through the now mysterious beings had been astronomical, or at least, the First Marked was. Each Marked became weaker and weaker with every appearance, and by the time the Fourteenth Marked was killed, they possessed only slightly more Ether than a fourth-tier mage. Only the Ascended were capable of wielding fifth-tier magic, but with enough time and money, anyone could be considered a fourth-tier mage.

The limitations set on those of lesser class because of their birth made those vibrant colors on the ivory towers seem duller. Aidric’s people lived a life of servitude to those who never bothered to learn their names. ‘Close your eyes, and think.’ Aidric thought the words of wisdom he used to tell Madison whenever she was stumped on one of their mother’s quizzes.

‘Your environment will tell you everything you need to know.’ Ada’s words from their ‘hunting’ trips echoed in his head. They were more like Aidric just went along with their mother and watched her do all the work, but the semi-fuzzy memories still brought a smile to his lips. Breath and think. Aidric closed his eyes, kneeled down and ran his hands over the blades of grass in front of him, still wet with morning dew that slicked his palms as they passed just above the surface. Crickets chirped farther into the more overgrown, untamed grass beyond the willow tree. The warm, unclouded sun bringing a prickle to his skin, countered by a cool breeze. 

Aidric took a deep breath, swirling the refreshing, crisp air in his lungs, and remembered the bedtime stories his mom used to tell him and Madison. Sometimes a valiant hero would triumph and save the day. Sometimes it would be a simple tale of simple people doing the best they could. The moral of the stories, however, was always the same. Help. Do what is within your power to better the lives of those around you, and you’ll find your people in return.

Aidric’s eyes flittered open, and yet, he was still lost, staring out over the massive expanse of land again. He couldn’t help but scoff and shake his head. What could a ten-year-old do to make a difference? He could tear through an entire novel in no time flat, but the real world had never been his forte. “What do I do, Madi?” Aidric said. “What would you do?”

The wind blew at Aidric’s back, ruffling his ill-fitting outfit, sending mysterious clouds that filled the once clear, bright sky to cover the sun. Small figures in the fields paused and turned their attention towards the sky at the sudden weather change, which covered the town and fields in shade, except for one building. At the base of the hill sat the illuminated grain storage.

“There’s no way.” Filled with disbelief, Aidric turned towards the willow, a small breeze rustling the branches. There, between the leaves at the base of the tree, was Madison’s healthy, smiling face. A knot swelled Aidric’s throat as he pushed aside the hanging leaves with a quickness he didn’t know he was still capable of. When he stepped back under the tree, she was gone. Aidric’s gaze scanned every inch of the tree, searching fervently for any flash of blonde hair or movement that could reveal who may have been toying with him, but there was no sign. Why was this happening, and what was the meaning behind these visions? The muscles in Aidric’s temple flexed as he clenches his jaw. Was he dying? Were these flashes of something more, or paranoid delusions? Another calm breeze rustled the leaves, causing one tendril to brush the back of his hand, and on the last vestiges of wind, is a voice he knew all too well.

“Make me proud.” Aidric had never been a spiritual person. He’d never offered prayer to the Old Gods or Ether, preferring facts and logic over tales and beliefs that humans only found the answers to after they were gone. Yet, despite all the information and knowledge rolling around in his head, he couldn’t make sense of it. Everything he could think of only left him with more questions than answers, and he would not find them standing here doing nothing. ‘Make me proud’ echoes through his mind. Aidric’s wet eyes flit over to the still illuminated grain silo, a resolute drive forming in his chest and a prickle of adrenaline in his brain. With a clear call to action, his legs moved on their own, taking him back down the hill towards his family’s grain storage. 

The shack that stood on mushroom capped stone pillars two-hundred feet behind the house came closer into view. Aidric and Madison were told by their parents that they could never enter the storage house, saying it wasn’t safe because of the pillars, that they made building was unstable. Well, some rules were meant to be broken. His light steps through the waist high amber grass made almost no noise as he held a steady pace towards the propped-up hut. Halfway to his goal, he realized a fatal flaw in his just budding plan. The doors to the shed opened in full view of the house.

Reaching the shed, Aidric sauntered beneath the elevated floor of the building and examined the floor to see if he could find any loose boards or a convenient access hatch. Nothing. Why was this thing more well-constructed than their own house? No back door, no side hatches.

“Front door, it is then.” Aidric said, ducking into the tall grass once again, and made his way to the front of the shed. Who knew? Maybe his parents were busy and he could slip out before they noticed. Using second-tier magic, Aidric could feel a steady stream of energy thrumming below him as he levitated off the ground, a ring of swirling blue and purple tinging the outside of his vision, as he lifted himself onto the simple six-foot-high wooden deck, his chest humming with a gentle warmth. Scholars argued whether ‘Lift’ counted as wind or gravity magic. They could argue all they wanted. All that mattered was that it worked.

Aidric reached for the iron clasp that held the doors shut, and to his surprise, there was no lock. One would expect a place as orderly as this to have some means of preventing unwelcome guests. Cracking the door open and slipping inside, he cast a quick glance towards home and figured there was no need for locks with the two things inside that discouraged unwanted visitors. Closing the door, a wave of excitement and disbelief ran through Aidric’s veins, as he leaned with both hands on the door, as if he was holding shut from an invisible pursuer.

Adrenaline swelled in his chest at the realization that he’d snuck past both of his parents into a forbidden spot. His hands shook with excitement as he held the doors shut and allowed himself to revel in the realization that this was the most fun he’d had in years. Madison was always the rule breaker and thrill seeker, while Aidric was content listening to what their parents told them, questioning nothing, always preferring the company of books and studies over people. Is this what she felt? This rush? It became clear why she did it now. Letting go of the door, he took a breath and steadied his resolve for the main part of the plan.

Upon turning to claim his bounty, the small amount of pride he’d had died in its crib. In the dim, dry light peeking through pinholes in the roof, sitting along the walls, were twenty, forty-pound bags of grain. Aidric stood frozen in disbelief, his hands curling into fists as a new emotion settled in his mind. A mix of anger, sadness, and embarrassment that his parents could help the village, yet did nothing. He pondered the feeling briefly, attempting to verbalize the blend, ultimately choosing a fitting word. Shame.