“Alright, after this, take it easy. We don’t need you lamed up in bed after your first day back.” Neal stood beside his son, the warmth of the mid-afternoon sun casting a golden hue on his tan skin, his hands resting on his hips. Neal’s eyes, a vivid blue that mirrored the clear skies above, filled with a childlike excitement when he met Aidric’s gaze. Being a reserve in the military, his father had access to second-tier magic, but his abilities were limited to that of a first-tier mage, due to his poor Ether aptitude.

Aidric winced, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to dull the searing ache in his chest. “You know, if this is too much, you can tell me, right?” Neal asked, his voice filled with unease as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“I know, dad. I’m good, thank you, though.” Aidric could understand why his father would be nervous, fearing to push a child he’d almost beat to death to work in the fields. Despite the stabbing pain, he welcomed the refreshing cool breeze that enveloped them, while overhead, dark clouds gathered and cast a shadow over the fields of crops. 

This spell, Aidric was sure, had been made specifically by and for farmers. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the invigorating smell of cooling earth and the soothing sound of raindrops on pattering off sprouting leaves, bringing a smile to his face as he assessed if his accuracy was improving. Though off by a few feet on either side, every crop still received a refreshing drink, so overall, not too shabby. Due to its expansive coverage area, ‘Petrichor’ could be classified as a third-tier spell, assuming one possessed a high enough Ether threshold. However, its less destructive nature compared to some first-tier spells led to its designation as second-tier. 

Aidric felt a firm clap on his shoulder that jolted him back to reality, making his body tense up as he fought the urge to recoil. Neal carefully lifted his hand from his son’s trembling shoulder. Adapting to their new boundaries had been a difficult task for both of them.

“Thank you for all your help, bud. Go on, head home and take a break.” Aidric felt a stabbing pain in his chest, indicating that he’d reached his limit on casting for the day, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help out in different ways.

“I can help set up for the festival. It’s not a problem.” Aidric said.

“You’re right, it’s not a problem. So, take your ass home and rest. Another word about it and I’m dropping your allowance for the rest of the year.” Aidric nodded his head. Point made well played. Spinning on his heels, Aidric made for the house.

“See you tonight, old man!” Aidric could sense Neal’s gaze fixed on his back, making sure he was heading home. “Relax, I’m not going to pillage anywhere, Sergeant.” This earned Aidric a chuckle from his father. 

“Smartass.”

“I am who you raised me to be.” Aidric raised his hand to shield his eyes from the scorching mid-day sun, and in that moment, he realized how different he had been from his father. Aidric couldn’t ignore the striking contrast between his father’s sun-kissed skin and his deathly pale hand. The bones in his hand seemed to be even more prominent than before. Perhaps he would actually end up dying before he became Marked.

Daylight still lingered, and he had time to spare. Standing on the path that lead home, he glanced down the main road and his eyes landed on the bustling bakery at the heart of the town. He longed to play with Lauren again. His mind wandered, hoping that she had been doing well since Priscilla’s mandate barred them from seeing one another. As much as Aidric didn’t want to, he could understand and respect Priscilla’s wishes, but it didn’t seem fair to Lauren. He needed to figure out how to explain what he could to Lauren. She was his only friend, after all.

A refreshing gust of wind swept across the road that caused tree branches to sway, rustling the leaves as it carried with it a subtle hint of sweetness. Shimmering at the top of the hill, however, is what had caught Aidric’s attention. The willow’s thin green leaves sparkled in the sunlight, casting gentle glimmers across its delicate surface. In an instant, Aidric knew exactly where he wanted to spend the remainder of his day.

Running past his mother’s empty forge and into the house, he grabbed a novel on the Marked from his room, and made his way up the hill. From halfway up the hill, he could spot a few barren spots on the tree where festival preparations had resulted in broken branches. ‘Broken off’ was the wrong term there. The way they collected branches resembled pruning. The collected branches, mostly dying or broken, were tied along the corners of their homes and businesses. This tradition, much older than any of the current residents, symbolized their deep connection with nature and honored the origins of the ritual, yet the reason of which had been long forgotten.

Brushing past the low-hanging branches, Aidric nestled into a spot next to Madison’s memorial. The gentle scent of flowers added a touch of serenity to the atmosphere. Sitting side by side, just as they used to. Except this time, the subject matter shifted from children’s stories to mundane biographies with occasional bursts of excitement.

The book he selected had a vibrant cover, painted in a deep shade of red. Its spine and pages were neatly stitched in black. After reading a few paragraphs, the color scheme made sense. Once the Second Marked manifested as a red-dragon, he and The First Marked attempted to guide Arc from the shadows, trying to turn it into a country of both magic and innovation, only to be chased away due to rising concerns of their power. Aidric wondered if the two would have been proud of how their power was harnessed, forging a unified kingdom after their deaths. Granted that their deaths were at the hand of the First Ascended, Damien Moreno, after both of the Marked were past their primes at the ages of eighty-three and sixty-three years old respectively, Aidric had put his bets on probably not. 

When Aidric reached the middle of the book, he realized that either of the Marked’s names hadn’t been mentioned by the author, not even once. Was it done deliberately, or did no one take the time to ask? Either answer was odd. A warm breeze blew across the hill, carrying with it a relaxing, sweet scent. Aidric’s eyelids grew unusually heavy, as if he’d suddenly been hit by the exhaustion of his busy day. He carefully creased the page where he had left off, closed the book with a satisfying thud, and as he shut his eyes, a wave of darkness overcame his mind.

Only to have woken up in an all too familiar nightmare. Imprisoned in an abyss of darkness, he was rendered motionless and voiceless, his body trapped in a space that felt tangibly close yet infinitely distant, and unyielding to his desperate attempts to move. To his left, he caught a glimpse of a faint, red light flickering on the edge of his frozen vision. The deep and calm male voice, reminiscent of the previous encounter, echoed from the depths of the darkness. 

“What did you take from him?” The familiar feminine voice resonated once again, accompanied by a vibrant purple light that flashed behind Aidric’s closed eyelids. 

“I had to take a piece from all of them, dear, but this one required a bit more than the others. This one needed more space, so I had to take a core emotion.” Panic spread through Aidric, his heart pounding in his chest as memories of the icy grip from the day before flooded back. Oh Gods, what did they take from him? He had believed it was merely a symptom of Ether poisoning or transformation, not that something had truly been torn away from him! The man’s voice picked up again.

“I understand that, but is it not unfair for the boy? Emotions are a useful tool and essential for living a full life for mortals.”

The purple hue intensified, becoming even brighter. “I cannot argue with your logic, my love, but what I took was never much of a tool to you, either.” The red light on Aidric’s left glided in front of him and settled beside the purple voice. The red ball passed Aidric by, and he immediately felt a deep sense of raw emotion, as if his heart had been laid bare. Rage, violence, and hatred had all coalesced into one neat ball of light. They had taken his anger. The fact they had stolen a piece of Aidric filled him with an overwhelming urge to rage, to let anger consume him, to seek revenge... but all he felt was an agonizing void, tangled with a faint tinge of frustration that made him want to cry.

“Just because I rarely used it does not mean that I didn’t wish to feel it.” The man boomed, his emotions, a complex blend of anger and remorse, washed over Aidric. “This is too much!” The woman let out a devious chuckle.

“Our little chosen will learn to cope. Do not forget, darling, you asked for this.” Both the purple and red lights grew brighter, then slinked farther away, the space distorting around them as Aidric felt as if he were being dragged through the eye of a needle. Bright white light creeped into his peripherals, and with a twang, he sat in the same spot he’d fallen asleep in under the tree, and was greeted with a familiar face. The sun’s orange glow filtered through the leaves, creating a warm ambiance as it hovered above the hills, while the air carried a delicate balance between the promise of a pleasant day and the chill of night.

“Ady?” Aidric pressed his eyes shut, then blinked a couple of times to shake off the drowsiness. How long had he been there? Ada’s gaze was trained on her son with no small amount of concern. Both of her hands rested on his shoulders, having shaken him awake. “Are you okay?”

Aidric racked his brain and thought of random events in life that had made him angry before. Injured dogs, horrid stories, his parent’s hoarding grain… that he was still here and Madison was gone. The only genuine feeling that came through was remorse. Gone. It was completely gone. Aidric’s eyes welled up with tears as a wave of frustration, sorrow, and grief washed over him. 

Before the first tear could fall, his mother enveloped him in a warm, comforting embrace. Rocking them back and forth, Ada mustered as brave a voice as she could. “I know honey, I miss her too. I know.” Ugly sobs and wails broke free from Aidric’s throat. He’d missed her too, but that’s not what he was mourning at the moment. Well… maybe a part of it had been for Madison. How could he possibly fulfill his promise to live life for the both of them when he felt like he had lost a part of himself?

“Come on, Ady.” Ada said, her voice was soothing as she helped Aidric to his feet. His sobs slowed as he smeared the tears and snot across his free arm, the rough fabric of his shirt only exacerbating the flush on his face. “It’s getting dark. Let’s go home.” 

Ada’s hand tenderly grasped her son’s in one, the book in the other, and guided him down the hill. “These things take time, Aidric.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything does. I won’t lie and tell you it’s never going to hurt again, because it will, but the good will outweigh the bad. You’ll think about the fun memories. Sometimes they’ll make you smile, sometimes they’ll make you sad, and it’s okay to cry if you want to. The most important thing is that you feel your feelings. If they ever get too much for you, promise me you’ll remember that you’re never alone. Your Dad and I will always be here for you.” 

The warmth and love in her words cleaved through the cooling spring air. Clinging to the warmth, Aidric felt a sense of calm wash over him, relieving the trembling in his lips and drying his eyes. The air was filled with the sounds of their footsteps, the distant birdsong, and the occasional sniffle, the last lingering trace of his emotional outburst as they made their way closer to home.

“I love you, mom.” 

“I love you too, sweetheart. Never forget that.” Ada gently pushed the door open, and the familiar smell of home wafted out, inviting her son to step through first. As soon as Ada stepped through the door, she gestured towards the stove, where the pot’s lid barely held back the mouthwatering aroma of Aidric’s favorite dish. As the beef stew gradually simmered, the aroma of savory herbs, pickled onions, and tender meat filled the kitchen.