Thistle laughs lightly, “Well, naming her wasn’t my idea, but the name stuck once I came up with it. I got pretty attached after that.” He pulls out a small blue stone, wrapped with delicate ropes, and hands it to Cass. “If you ever want to learn more about magic, here’s my calling stone. You can reach me anytime.”

He then turns to Riona, his eyes briefly scanning her gear. “And you're a squire, aren’t you? I don’t recognize the exact design, but you’re not armored enough for a knight. The sword kinda gives it away, so I assumed squire.”

“Oh, well yeah, I am, I'm training at Vermilion Academy back in Kaleidoscope Castle town.” Riona replied.

“Kaleidoscope Kingdom—so we are close by, thank God. I thought so. Sorry, I travel a lot, and it can be tricky sometimes when I arrive somewhere new. Anyway, it was great meeting you both. I pray our paths cross again.” He hesitates, then adds, “Oh um, would you mind leading me in the direction of the castle town?”

Riona obliges, and they walk back to the castle town as it’s beginning to get darker. As they walk back the way they came they realize the fountain they passed in the forest before now has significantly less water in it than it did moments prior. Thistle seems alarmed by this, even after never seeing the fountain before, but Riona just makes a mental note of it and continues walking. Eventually, they make it back to the city gates, just before it would be time for them to close too. They parted ways before Riona went home, Cass went in the opposite direction back to her house too.

Cass got home and quietly slipped the pan she retrieved back into its place. Before she could retreat, her parents, two large bird-like creatures with concerned expressions, confronted her.

“Where have you been?!?” Cass’s father demanded, his voice sharp with worry.

Her mother added, stern but anxious, “You know you're not supposed to leave without a chaperone.”

Cass flinched, startled by their sudden appearance. She turned to face them, fumbling for words, “Uh, I’m sorry. I was trying to get back some appliances that were stolen while you were gone. Well… I tried to, anyway.”

“What? We got robbed?!” her father shouted, his feathers ruffling in alarm.

Cass quickly shook her head, “No! Well, yes, but I got a pan back. Look, I’ve been practicing magic, and I feel like I’m getting good enough to leave the house by myself. I’m old enough too! I don’t always need someone with me. Riona was with me, but she doesn’t count.”

Her mother’s voice rose, sharp and unwavering, “You don’t get to decide that!”

Cass’s frown deepened, her frustration bubbling over, “Do you not trust me?”

Her mother softened, but still held firm, “It’s not about trust.”

Her father, in a more gentle tone, said, “We’re hard on you because we love you. We can’t bear the thought of something happening to you out there. If it did… we don’t know what we’d do.”

He reached out to comfort her, placing a hand on her cheek, but Cass stepped back, shaking her head, “I’m going to bed,” she muttered, her voice low but resolute. She turned and headed up the stairs to her room.

Once inside, she collapsed onto her bed, only to wince as something hard pressed against her side. She pulled out the calling stone Thistle had given her, feeling its weight in her hand. For a moment, she wondered if she should use it now, but decided against it. He probably wouldn’t answer this late.

Cass placed the stone on her nightstand, staring at it for a moment, thinking about what Thistle might be able to teach her—not just about magic, but maybe about herself too. She sighed and reached into her drawer, pulling out her journal.

Flipping to a fresh page, she began to write down everything that had happened that day. At the top, she wrote the date and then paused, her eyes falling on a section she’d created long ago. The label read, Who am I?

Next to it, she scribbled: GREAT QUESTION! Like a teacher annotating an essay.

She stared at the empty space for a long moment before closing the journal with a sigh.

As Riona arrives home, she slips out of her uniform and changes into more comfortable clothes, heading straight to the kitchen to start fixing dinner.

About an hour later, the front door creaks open, and Hendrick steps in, greeting her with a warm, "Hey hon, how was your day?"

Riona hands him a plate she had prepared, her hand pausing for a moment as she hesitates, then softly replies, "It... was good."

“Woah you look exhausted, what’d you do today?” Hendrick questioned.

“Oh, I just walked Cass back home and it was, uh… far.”

Hendrick sat down at the dinner table, taking a bite of the food Riona had prepared. After a moment, he glances at her, a curious glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he began, setting his fork down, “something interesting happened at the castle today, not too long ago actually.”

Riona raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What was it?”

“Some strange fellow came by—Thistle was his name.” Riona’s eyes perked up from her plate, “Said he had urgent news for the king about some blight spreading in the neighboring kingdoms.” Hendrick leaned back, crossing his arms.

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Earlier that day, outside the castle gates, Thistle had arrived, his green cloak swaying in the breeze. The guards at the entrance exchanged a glance,spears in hand, their expressions skeptical as they watched him approach.

“Can we help you?” one of the guards asked, eyeing Thistle’s travel-worn appearance.

“I need to speak with the king,” Thistle said, his tone urgent.

The second guard crossed his arms. “Do you have an appointment?”

Thistle shook his head. “No, but it’s critical. People are in danger.”

The guards exchanged another look, still unconvinced, but something in Thistle’s intensity made them hesitate. Finally, the first guard sighed and stepped aside.

“Fine, but don't waste the king's time. He's got more important things to deal with than fairy tales.”

Thistle nodded gratefully, his grip tightening on his staff as he hurried through the castle corridors, eyes darting around, taking in the grandeur surrounding him. When he finally entered the throne room, he found himself slowing down, awe-struck by its magnificence—the towering stained glass windows, the gilded columns, the soft glow of enchanted sconces. At the far end of the room, King Alric sat on his throne, chuckling with Hendrick at his side. Their laughter faded as Alric’s gaze shifted to the new arrival, his eyes narrowing into a suspicious squint.

“Great, a mage,” Alric muttered to Hendrick.

Thistle, oblivious to the king’s skepticism, stopped in his tracks, realizing he was now the focus of the room. Collecting himself, he knelt respectfully, placing his left arm against his chest while keeping his staff grounded.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice steady.

The king studied him, resting his head on one hand, his elbow propped on the throne’s armrest. “State your name and residence.”

“Thistle Bion, Your Majesty, I am a nomad so I have no current or permanent residence at the moment.” he replied. “I’m afraid I’ve come to deliver a warning of high urgency. There is a magical blight spreading across the land—a force that absorbs magic wherever it finds it. It has devastated villages to the south, and those who depend on magic to survive are most vulnerable.”

Alric raised an eyebrow, skepticism still lingering. “And why should I believe such a grim tale?”

Thistle’s grip on his staff tightened as he spoke. “Because I have witnessed the blight’s effects firsthand. This isn’t just a rumor; it’s real, and it’s spreading. I saw your fountain on my way here—it’s been drained, its magic leeched.”

Hendrick glanced at Alric, concern flickering across his face, though the king remained unmoved. “That fountain in the forest? Eh has had issues for a while; a simple piping issue isn’t evidence of a threat.”

“Your Majesty, this blight has taken much more than a fountain from the lands to the south. Fields that once flourished are nothing but scorched soil now. I’ve seen forests stripped of their vitality. For the last twelve years I’ve been traveling and studying, and I’ve never seen anything like this. It feeds on magic relentlessly, and a kingdom with a crystal as powerful as yours would be a prime target.”

Alric’s expression shifted slightly, his skepticism faltering. “You’re suggesting that this… blight could seek our crystal itself?”

“Yes, sir,” Thistle replied, his gaze unflinching. “Though the blight doesn’t seem like it could necessarily target you specifically, if it ever reached your crystal, the consequences could be catastrophic. I urge you to take this seriously—protecting that crystal could mean saving not just your kingdom, but all who rely on it.”

A tense silence hung in the air as Alric exchanged a look with Hendrick. After a long pause, he sighed, addressing Thistle more cautiously. “Your words are grave, and I don’t respond to fearmongering lightly.” 

“Alric.” Hendick calls, he gives the king a serious side eye.

He sighs, “But if Hendrick agrees, we might look into the fountain… if only to see if your claims hold any truth.”

Thistle inclined his head, a disappointed look dawned on his face, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Thistle had hoped they’d take his pleas to heart and start a full investigation. After trying this in multiple kingdoms, he realizes now that he’s on his own.

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Riona takes another bite, “Oh, I remember him, me and Cass saw him on the other side of the Fairground Forest. The fog smog was making things difficult.”

“What were you two doing over there?” Hendrick squints at her.

Riona’s eyes widened in the realization of her mistake, “Um, we got lost.”

“Mhm, well you need to go to sleep, you have school tomorrow. Last day before break, you can do it.”

“Alright, Dad,” Riona says before walking up the stairs to her room.

Hendrick stops her before she reaches the top saying, “Hey, I love you.”

“Yea, love you too Dad,” Riona walks to her bedroom.

Riona lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. She replayed the details of Hendrick's story about Thistle, the mage who had warned them about the magic-absorbing blight. His alarm at the empty fountain stuck with her, a sign of something far more serious. It frustrated her to think that King Alric and her father hadn't given Thistle more than a passing glance; their dismissive attitudes felt shortsighted. She hoped to talk to him again, not just to ask about the blight, but to learn more about the world beyond the kingdom. The kingdom lines were all she had ever known—sometimes, she feels like something beyond the kingdom lines, beckons to her.