They stopped to rest round midday. The sun was high in its path and forced them to do so. All around them was endless nothing. They had left the chasm they had been following an hour ago and had crossed the plateau without any other point of reference. Iora had followed the dwarf. She had trusted that he'd known the way. Now she looked around. It was mostly scrub again, nothing that indicated life, except perhaps a few grasses with stalks that looked more like needles. Solely a pair of withered trees defied the scorching midday sun. They stretched the tarp beneath them and sat down in its shade.

“Thank you for taking me with you”, Iora began. “I wouldn't know where to go on my own. I would have died out here.”

“Oh child. I wouldn't have just left you standing there. We travellers have to help each other where we can. Otherwise this would be a very lonely world we live in here.” And he meant it so. “You will still have the chance to return the favour. And if that doesn't happen, then help someone on your journey who is less fortunate than you. Then it shall be repaid.”

That evening, they had set up camp next to a small grove around a spring. It was the first time since she had left the little hut in the middle of nowhere that she had seen so much green, so much life in one place. Insects buzzed and a few last blossoms held on late into the summer. An oasis in the middle of a landscape ravaged by forces the likes of which the world had not seen since those ancient days. Thorgest had told her that he always visited this place when he travelled northward. Iora had been looking for dry branches for a fire again and Thorgest had pitched his tent in the meantime. Then he wanted to make good on his promise and explain his trick with the fire to her.

“Here, take this twig in both hands. Like so.”  He demonstrated. “The fireplace here is too large for my skills to light it just like that. It would need a better mage for that. But I can work with this branch as a focus. Look at it. Feel it. It's made of the same material as all the other branches here. The same wood. So you can create a connection between them. You just have to recognise how they are one. That's the first step.”

Iora held the twig between her hands. It was nothing special. Dry wood. She wasn’t so sure what she was meant to feel. But whatever, she would feel.

“You have to be firm in the will that whatever you do with this stick will happen to others in this pile. It has to be a fact for you. If you break it, another will break too”, he explained.

And with that he had lost her. “But– Didn’t you want to show me how to produce fire?”, she interrupted him.

“Patience, patience. To do this, you first need to understand how things around you are connected. This knowledge will take you further than the ability to set fire to a small piece of wood”, he replied. “Pick a second twig. And then concentrate on the two. They are one and the same. What happens to one also happens to the other. They are connected by the webs of magic. And when you realise how they are one, break yours. The second will follow.”

She wasn’t convinced, but she did as she was told. She selected a second stick and memorised its image. Then she closed her eyes. She imagined it. As best she could, she formed its details. And when she broke the one in her hand, she imagined how the other one broke as well. But when she opened her eyes again, nothing had happened. She tried a second time. Nothing. A third. A fourth, a fifth. Again and again she started over.

Thorgest had left her to her exercises and meanwhile set about lighting the fire and cooking a small dinner. “And?” he finally asked her.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I don't know what’s the point. They're two. They aren’t one. How are they supposed to be one?” She was disappointed and frustrated.

“Well, that's the point of this exercise. You will understand, but it will take time. No one is born a mage”, he encouraged her, “But you see that it's possible.”

It chose two new ones and tried again. And again. It amazed her how little her own mind would obey her when she demanded something of it. It should be so easy to imagine two sprigs breaking as one, but to be convinced that this was so was an impossibility. She couldn't remember how long she had tried, but it was getting dark, she felt drained.

“Today was your first day in contact with magic. You will understand. Come. Eat.” She didn't find any real comfort in that, but she wouldn't tell him that.

#

That night she had spent under the open sky again. Nestled against a gnarled old tree, she listened to the almost deafening sounds of the oasis. Whirring and scurrying and rustling and rippling. They had drowned out her thoughts, the whispering of the closed door in her labyrinth.

For the next day, she had looked for a few more twigs to practise with on her way. She would get there by the time they reached Myrar. Even if she had almost run into the Nasr twice with her eyes closed. Thorgest just managed to save her both times.

During their break, she tried to get some sleep. She had to admit to herself that she wasn't used to walking for so long. Not in this heat. And she hadn't slept well.

The second half of the day she used up the rest of her practice materials and then went on without. Thorgest left her in peace for the rest of the day and pursued his own thoughts. What they might be, Iora didn't know. He hadn't told her much about himself. But neither had she told him. Gods, she was probably the bigger mystery of the two of them.

“It’s not far now. We should reach Myrar tomorrow. Do you already know what you’ll be doing once we get there?”, Thorgest asked in the evening. A question she hadn’t properly asked herself. Her only goal had been to get there, and even that only because she knew it was her best chance of survival. So, what would she do when she got there?

“Survive, just as now”, she replied curtly.

“Don’t you have any family?`Nobody you can go to?” He sounded genuinely worried. She struggled with herself, but finally decided that she owed him something for taking care of her.

“I grew up in Ardport. On the street. I had brothers and sisters there. But as time went on, there were fewer and fewer of them. In the end, I was the only one left.” This truth had to suffice. It being eight years past he didn’t have to know.

He nodded. “I think I understand.” But he didn't seem happy with the answer. He was very quiet for the rest of the evening - as he had been all day. So she returned to her exercises. What else could she do?

“Child, we need to talk”, Thorgest finally said in a heavy voice. He pointed at her with his cup. “The glyph on your back, I know it.” Iora faltered. This was what she had been afraid of. Afraid of since the moment he had bandaged her, offered her help, taken her on with all that cheerfulness. Of course. The dwarf continued to speak, slowly and with words carefully chosen: “I know what will happen to you.” Every word was a sting. The heart in her chest beat faster and her mouth went dry. She stared at him, transfixed, watching closely to see what he would do next. She had claws, he didn't, if she was quick enough–

“I've seen them too often. But yours is still fresh. Maybe there's still hope.”

She found it difficult to speak. She wanted to flee, but– “What do you mean? What will happen to me?”

He sighed and stared into the fire. Followed the small sparks with his eyes as they rose into the night sky. “Oh poor child. You don't know? How could you let yourself in for this?”

Oh, she knew. Maybe not two days ago, but she understood. It would eat at her soul. Piece by piece she would disappear. She had seen it. She would become which should never stand on this earth. It was all wrong. It didn’t belong here and yet it was inside her. Was her.

“Can you help me?” She felt so weak. “Please…”

“It is part of you now”, he replied, his words bitter and set with the unspoken grief only a life too long and too storied could work. Their finality forced tears into her eyes. Hot droplets of desperation, of shameful weakness. “I cannot be cut out. You will carry it in you for the rest of your life. It will grow inside you. And it will try to break down your will. Every day. Every week. I want you to understand that.”

A first hot streak ran down her cheek. “But there has to be something. Anything”, she begged. “Don’t you know of anything?” The words tasted of ash. Why would it be so much easier with him shouting?

“I told you: There is hope, but you have to fight it. I can help you strengthen your will, but you have to weather the storm.”

She didn’t dare speak with him after that. Didn’t even look at him. So he knew what she was. What he might be thinking, only the spirits knew. That night, she felt even more abandoned in her loneliness than before. She didn't say a word to him the next morning either. When she looked at him, she saw the pain in his eyes. She felt too weak for her exercises. Her senses too numb and her mind too agitated and the whispering too loud. It was just as right after her awakening. She was alone and all that drove her forward was the sheer will to put one foot in front of the other. She wanted to run away, but where to? There was nothing. So she kept going. Always straight ahead.

Until in the far distance she noticed a wall of pale-yellow stone. Myrar. So there it was. She had never before seen a dwarven city. Stone and metal and artfully coloured ornaments. Stout battlements and massive gates. And gardens in the wasteland. She could see them. Flat roofs that towered over the wall and the greenery on top of them. Terraces and colourful awnings and trees and blossoms. And just a single bridge that ran from a street to the plateau on which the city was located.

When they reached the bridge, Thorgest spoke for the first time that day. “Best pull your hood low over your face and hide your hands. As long as you stay with me, hopefully the guards will leave you alone.”

Iora did as she was urged, but still didn’t have it in her to speak herself. Whatever was there to say anyway?

While she stepped towards the gate covered up, her companion behaved entirely openly. Her mind itched. Her nerves were on edge. They would see he was a dwarf and hopefully let her pass. And what if they didn't? He waved to one of the guards as they passed, but they didn’t seem to pay them any further mind. And then they were inside the city.