“What are you doing?” his father asked. 

Mancer found the mirror in her old handbag and looked in it, seeing himself just as he had in Seiche’s mirror. A surge of dismay gripped him, and the mirror fell from his hands. His father caught it just as the mirror left Mancer's grip, and he frowned at the boy. 

“What did your mother just tell you?” he demanded. 

Mancer felt sheepish. He promised her that he'd be careful and yet, less than an hour later, he'd already nearly broken that promise. 

His father's expression softened. “This was your grandmother's mirror. Do you know how sad Mom would be if you broke this?” 

“I'm sorry,” was all Mancer could say. “Are you going to tell her?” 

“No,” his father chuckled, “that's your job.” 

Mancer swallowed nervously. “Do I… have to?” 

His father smirked.

He's enjoying this way too much! Mancer pouted. 

His father opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut short by a knock at the door. “Sounds like Shana's here.” He knelt in front of his son and ruffled his hair. “Be good,” he said. 

Mancer hugged his father tightly. “Don't worry Daddy. I'll be on my best behavior.” 

His father straightened his clothes and said, “I know you will, but don't keep Miss Shana waiting!” He pushed his son towards the door. Mancer opened it carefully, his small fingers just barely reaching the knob. 

“Miss Shana!” He squealed, and his face flushed with embarrassment. “Er… I mean… Good morning, my lady.” He gave his best imperial bow, with his right foot forward, his hand over his heart, and his left hand behind his back. 

Shana giggled at his erroneous display. She was mature for a twelve year old, and taller than most people her age. Her dark hair was tied into two tight braids and her chocolate colored eyes gleamed with intelligence. She offered her hand to Mancer. 

“Then, shall we go, my fine young prince?” 

He took her hand happily and the two of them began the pleasant stroll to the estate's daycare. The family's cottage was situated in the northwest corner of the manor's grounds, in a section of forest that was nearly overgrown. Father's position as one of Lord Baltimore's alchemists afforded them a certain amount of prestige within the house, but the frequent stenches coming from his laboratory had necessitated the move to a different location. In contrast, the daycare was positioned directly to the south of the manor, which meant that the two of them would pass in front of the house's gardens on their walk each morning. 

On this particular day, in the death throes of late summer, a certain girl was walking through the gardens with her head maid, admiring the flowers that had been planted earlier that year. Angelina Baltimore skipped down the cobbled garden path, dancing in the last warm sunlight of the season. 

“My Lady, you mustn't run!” her maid called after her, “you could hurt yourself!” Though the maid was by no means out of shape, she still struggled to keep up with the boundless energy of an eight year old. Angelina rounded the corner, disappearing from sight, and her maid hurried after her. She came around the bend and was distraught when she found that Lady Angelina was nowhere to be seen. “My Lady! Where are you?!” she called. 

“I'm over here!” came the noble girl's squeaky voice. The maid followed her voice to a large old willow tree in front of the gardens, where Angelina was already halfway up, staring at a gray tabby cat asleep in the upper branches. 

“Angelina Baltimore!” her maid yelled, “get down from there this instant!” 

“I'm okay, really,” Angelina replied, “I'm just going to save that little kitty! He must be so scared.” The cat in question scratched its ear, stretched, and padded further along the branch to sleep in a different patch of sun. Angelina climbed higher. The branches were just barely low enough for her to reach the next one. 

On the ground, walking along the path in front of the gardens, Mancer and Shana were discussing the silly fashions and etiquette of the imperial palace on their way to the daycare when the maid's distressed yell caught their attention. High up in the willow tree, a cheerful girl in a bright blue dress was cautiously approaching a grey cat along a thin tree branch. Angelina took another step towards the cat, keeping her hand on an adjacent branch to steady herself. As the wood creaked under her weight, the cat was startled awake and leaped down the tree, sending the branch she was on swaying in the wind. She panicked. Her arms flailed wildly about in an attempt to regain her balance, but it was no use. She slipped, and plummeted straight down from thirty feet in the air. 

Mancer dashed forward, leaping over the low hedge. Rixi might not respond, so… 

“Seiche!” The water spirit shot forward from her symbol on his arm and stopped beneath Angelina's falling body. She stretched out her hands and formed a large bubble, preparing to cushion the girl's fall. Angelina's scream was cut short as she landed exactly on the bubble. It squished out slightly on impact and popped, bouncing her gently onto her feet. Her dress was damp, but aside from that she was completely fine. 

“Oh my goodness, my lady! Are you alright?!” Her maid rushed over and checked every inch of her body for injury. She found a large scratch on Angelina's arm from a branch she'd grabbed onto, but, rather than crying, Angelina was staring at Mancer with an awed expression on her face. 

“You just used magic!” she squealed. 

“So what if I did?” Mancer grumbled. 

“That was awesome! Can you do it again?!” She gazed at him with large round eyes the color of sapphires. 

“No,” Mancer replied emphatically, but Seiche had her own idea. She formed another bubble in her hand and blew it at Angelina. It burst against her forehead, relieving her fatigue and healing the scratch on her arm. Her dress was even more wet now, but she didn't care. She was entranced with Seiche, and she followed the beautiful water spirit as she returned to Mancer, trailing behind a mist that blanketed Angelina delightfully. 

Mancer glared at her as she sat leisurely upon his shoulder. “What do you think you're doing?” he demanded. 

“Spreading cheer and goodwill through magic,” she replied, “there was a time when that was your focus. I miss those days.” 

Mancer didn't respond. He was busy counting the people who had seen Seiche. Shana, Lady Angelina, and her maid. I sure hope they can keep a secret. 

Unfortunately for him, there was one other person who had been privy to part of the exchange. As he was about to ask Angelina to keep his secret, an angry voice boomed across the gardens. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Lord Baltimore yelled. He rushed over to his daughter to find that her dress was wet all over. He glared menacingly at Mancer, who found that his six year old self could not bear such a hostile expression. He ducked behind Shana, just barely holding back his tears. 

“How dare you touch my daughter?!” 

“Wait, Daddy–” 

“What have you to say for yourself?!” 

Shana, caught between her lord and her charge, was in an exceedingly difficult position. “M-My lord!” she stammered, “you're frightening him!” 

Baron Baltimore shoved her aside to confront Mancer directly. She fell on the cobblestones and scraped her knee. Blood dripped down her leg, and Mancer felt a surge of anger boil through him. 

“Don't touch my Shana!” he exclaimed. Raw mana flowed from him in waves. The Baron stepped back instinctively as Mancer's magic emanated his unbridled, unmatched fury. The wind picked up, blowing his hair around wildly. He knew he had to regain control, but… he couldn't. Shana was hurt, and it was his fault. He was always a coward in the past, which was why he couldn't back down now. 

Lord Baltimore stared into Mancer's eyes and was suddenly very afraid. This boy, this child, less than a sixth of his age, was stronger than any mage he'd ever met. 

The boy extended his hand and spiked vampiric chains erupted from the ground, ensnaring and tightening around Lord Baltimore. The pain was excruciating, but he didn't even wince. It seemed a small price to pay for the discovery of an unparalleled genius. 

“Incredible,” he whispered. 

Mancer felt the life force draining from the Baron. It traveled down the chains and into Mancer's blood. The sensation of stealing vitality was pure euphoria, plunging him deeper into the madness that threatened to overtake him. His mana force redoubled, the wind blowing faster and faster, spinning around him at nigh impossible speeds. 

Angelina approached him slowly, pushing through the cyclone as best she could. “Stop it!” she cried out, “stop hurting Daddy!” 

But Mancer couldn't stop. He was beyond the point of no return. His childish feelings had become violent, and Angelina's father was about to pay the price.