Life before awakening is nothing but a mere, insignificant time in my history. I have lived far longer than any human has or ever will. So, after all these years, only a single question comes to mind.
How does it feel to live powerless, in a world full of power?
—Galath Areias, The First
Elira Thorne
I watched him, the boy I had known my whole life. He stood, looking around, as if to see if anyone would notice his absence. He slipped away into the forests, leaving not a trace behind—a sign of his work as a hunter.
But I noticed.
I followed, careful not to make a sound. The silhouette of his cloak guided my path through the thick, forest brush. He rounded a corner, slipping behind a tree. But, as I approached it, turning the corner, knowing not what to expect…
He had disappeared. A feather against a bird's plumage.
I turned, shoulders slumped, I had hoped I would be able to figure out what he was up to, so early in the morning not even his own mother knew he was gone. But alas, he had managed to evade my attempts yet again. I began to walk away, the sound of my shoes crunching against the forest floor.
"What's a little girl like you doing this deep in the woods?"
"R-R-Ren?!" I yelped, both in fear and surprise. I hurriedly faced upward, following the treeline. The spring season was in full bloom, and bright sun rays beat down on me, forcing me to squint. His figure, hunched on a tall tree branch, reminded me of a perched owl scanning for prey.
"Following me?" He dropped down, landing softer than one would expect from such a height. I analyzed his figure. He stood just a few inches taller than myself, yet somehow his presence seemed so much more imposing than it used to be. He had a tan, olive complexion. An unassuming black shirt, white undershirt, and brown pants clad his now muscled and strong body—a far cry from the once frail and skinny village boy I once knew.
"Of course not! I was just… on a stroll through the forest, as one does. You just so happened to be out here! What a surprise really. Anyways, I really must be on my way to—" I began to ramble, as I usually did when I felt nervous. He raised a single eyebrow, stopping me in my tracks.
I sighed, letting my shoulders droop and face reddening. "Alright, I was following you."
"Figures. But before I say anything else," he manifested a mischievous grin as he spoke, "what do you think I'm doing out here?"
"Well, for starters, you revealed to me three months ago that you could use magic. Since then, you have been mysteriously running off every morning to do… something. But it can't be to hunt, atleast, not every day. You only hunt in the late afternoon." I paused, taking a deep breath in between rants. "So, I figured it must have been something to do with magic. But what exactly…" I stopped to deliberate, focusing my thoughts from the past few months.
"…Maybe you're meeting someone. Another Walker? Or…" her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you found a way to make your magic stronger. You've been testing it, haven't you?"
Ren's brow twitched, but still he said nothing.
She stepped closer, tone sharpening. "You vanished behind that tree, fast. That wasn't speed, that was something else. Something unnatural. You're not just learning spells. You're training for something." I suddenly stopped, letting the breath that was slowly running out fill back into my lungs. I gazed at the boy's face, still and unmoving.
Suddenly, he broke out into a massive smile.
"As expected, Elira. How bout' an adventure?"
He grabbed me by my waist.
Then we were rising into the air.
We were flying.
The wind pushed against my long, black hair as we soared. The sun brightened as we escaped the shade of the forest canopy above… no, now below us. However, I noticed the change only through the rising temperature across my face—my eyes sealed shut in fear.
"Elira, it's alright." Ren comforted.
I slowly let one eye open, then two. What I saw drew my breath away. The fear grasping at my heart disappeared, faster than the ground below my feet.
The forests surrounding Stonewick were like a canvas of green. In the distance, the magic beast inhabited Wildmarch sprawled across acres of land. The gates of Darrowmere were within view, standing like two tall Kings among peasants. The sun's rays illuminated the world below me, our view akin to being in the heavens themselves.
"This is… it's amazing, Ren." I gasped.
"Never gets old."
He catapulted forward, now carrying us at death defying speeds. He pulled me tighter, and I felt his muscled chest pushing against me. My face blushed a crimson red as I stared straight down, careful not to let him see.
We landed, a clearing in the Wildmarch. A majestic lake lay before us.
"This is where I've been training. Two royals usually meet me here, but they couldn't come today—said they had important stuff to do." He let go of my waist as we landed on the soft sand. "The ones I brought from Kemmerick."
My mind raced, remembering.
"The Prince and the war hero!?" I blurted out.
"Yeah, them."
"And what are you training for, exactly?"
He flopped down, legs stretched out, arms pushing into the sand behind him.
"You know the royal showcase? There's a tournament at the end. The seven royal families always join in—or that's what they told me. But nobles from all over the kingdom can enter too."
"You're no noble," I said, laughing as I dropped beside him, bumping his shoulder.
"They said it's fine. No one would really notice. And since only royals can use magic, right? I guess no one would even think to question it, if I don't stand out too much."
"That's gonna be hard. Someone might pass out just from looking at your ugly face." I teased.
He laughed, no comeback, just the sound of it rolling into the quiet air. After a beat, I broke the comfortable silence.
"Are you sure you can be telling me all this? I know I figured most of it out on my own, but still…"
"I'm tired of secrets, I guess." He admitted, gaze focused on the water ahead. "I can't tell my mom, I don't want her to worry. And you…"
"How could you lie to this face?" I questioned, flipping my face into that of a puppy begging for food.
"Precisely."
We sat, staring into the water. I glanced over at his face. He had no obvious emotions, but a small smile playfully danced on his lips. He looked… as if he was longing for something just out of reach.
"This adventure sucks." I suddenly complained.
"Why?" He questioned, surprised by my sudden outburst.
"Adventures don't have just one stop! You can fly for god's sake, take me somewhere cool!"
"Darrowmere?" Ren asked simply.
"We always go to Darrowmere, isn't there somewhere else in this stupid Kingdom!?"
"Brimholt then? I hear they have the best Mooncrust Tart in all of Karouse!"
"Sure! But…" I stopped, remembering something, "how are we gonna pay? I don't have any money, and you need yours to feed you and your—" But he cut me off, and my eyes widened.
A golden galleon, its shining, bright complexion somehow surpassing that of the sun above us.
"W-Where did you get something like that?" My eyes narrowed, "did you steal it?"
"No no, nothing like that. Think of it as a gift from a… wealthy friend of mine."
"The prince?" I questioned, tone sarcastic.
"Maybe."
"Who cares! You're rich! C'mon!" I grabbed his hand, he let go, instead grabbing me by the waist, bursting up into the air.
—
The figure of Brimholt slowly approached in the distance. It was not quite as glorious as the gates of Darrowmere, but compared to our home village, it was still something to admire. Large, stone walls bordered the city, and a small keep could be seen on the horizon, home to the noble family governing the city.
The home of Mooncrust Tarts lay at the edge of the Wildmarch, further east than I had ever travelled before. The river separating the forests and the Wildmarch ran along our right side, winding like a snake in the grass. I noticed a field of grazing cattle in the farmland outside the city, simple villagers tending to their livestock in the bright spring light.
"I'll land here, don't wanna draw too much attention now." Ren set us down gently in a clearing in the forest, near the river separating it from the Wildmarch. We were now only a few minutes walk away from the gates of Brimholt.
The view entering into the city was distinctly different from that of Darrowmere. The architecture was not quite so extravagant, instead, appearing more humble in nature. Simple, plain stone walls lined the foundations of each building. The upper floors, if a building had one in the first place, were molded by light, cream colored plaster with crosses of wood running within them. Brick tile lined nearly every roof, deviating only to flat rooftops—perimeters built with indented crenelations.
"Ren, look at that!" I yelped in awe.
The town center had a marvelous fountain, a statue of a decorated hero—water sprouted from his palm. In the distance, a garden of intricately cut hedges and trees led up to the city keep, tall and strong, yet humble. I spotted bushes cut into the shape of drakes, tall and menacing. Others into gryphons or other various magical beasts.
"Impressive, but that is what we are really here for." Ren replied, pointing ahead.
Surrounding the fountain, a sprawling market of stalls and vendors seem to stretch into the horizon itself. While Darrowmere had its own share of merchants, like Ren, who came to sell their goods, this was something else entirely. I spotted the bakery stall Ren pointed out, a silvery light slowly emanating from its location deep within the market.
"Let's go!" I exclaimed, leading him by a hand.
"Just one Mooncrust tart, please." Ren said politely to the older man running the stall. His gray hair contrasted against the bright colors of the market around us, but he smiled warmly—like a relative who had journeyed great distances to visit a loved one.
"Just one? I'm not sharing with you!" I complained, hitting him lightly on the arm.
"I don't want too much, I heard these things give you crazy dreams." He shuddered at the thought.
"Nonsense, that's just a myth, two Mooncrust tarts please sir!"
Before Ren even had time to fight back, the man handed us the tarts, still warm. My friend looked around, slowly handing the old man the golden galleon in his pocket. His eyes widened momentarily, taking an extra long time counting out our change.
"They are beautiful." I said in wonder.
Ren only stared silently at the tart, before taking a small bite. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he began to scarf down the rest like a wolf that hadn't had a successful hunt since… well since forever.
"Slow down, you might choke and die." I laughed, biting into my own tart. My laughter instantly faded away into shock.
"Isn't it good?" He questioned, mouth full.
"This is incredible."
The pastry was soft, its crust crumbling like starlight—cool, buttery, and with a hint of mineral sharpness. Its filling bursted with flavor, some kind of blackberry. It was nearly impossible to describe, tart, but with soft undertones of lavender. It left an aftertaste of slight numbness, which turned into an embracing warmth across my tongue.
"What is this filling?" Ren questioned the old man, as if he were hoping to steal the recipe.
"The night fruit only ripens under moonlight atop Telmir's Crown. Picking it before moonrise causes the fruit to wither, useless and bitter. Only a few know the correct rituals for harvesting." He answered with a wink.
Ren's face drooped with sadness. Telmir's Crown was a long journey away, a part of the Northern mountain range on the Wildmarchs perimeter.
"Thank you sir!" I called out, dragging Ren further into the markets.
Each stall was uniquely distinct, and every vendor different to match. Some sold rare meats and other delicacies like the bakery stall we had tried earlier. Others sold trinkets, jewelry and other knick knacks.
A street performer, standing atop a wooden pedestal, waved his arms frantically at the passing crowds. He used fire magic, forming and shaping it into images of terrifying beasts floating in the sky. Passerbys stopped to admire his creations, dropping spare coins into a tin bucket at his feet.
"A Walker relegating themselves to performing in the streets of Brimholt? In what world would a royal do something like that?" Ren questioned aloud.
But before I could mutter an answer, a passerby whispered softly to us, "That's Vireth Caldrith, he's… eccentric, to say the least."
Caldrith, the surname felt familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.
We neared the boy, his fire weaving into the shape of a magic beast I knew not the name of. I noticed his long tailcoat, scorched at the hems. Once regal red but faded and singed. Gold embroidery frays at the seams. One sleeve was missing, his shirt only half buttoned and tucked in on the opposite side. He had a dark auburn head of hair, frizzy and burnt at the tips.
He stopped suddenly, his creation fading from existence, before centering his gaze at us.
No, at Ren.
"I know you…" The boy started, trailing off before picking back up again. His voice felt theatrical, as if performing even in speech. "I've seen you, in my dreams, you will bring about destruction, the end of everything!"
His fire burst into being, showcasing a vivid scene. A single boy, knelt to the ground. Burning buildings smoldered behind him, a still corpse lay at his side, an intricate crown hanging half fallen off of the man's head.
"What the hell is this guy talking about?" I expressed confusion.
"I don't know, he must be crazy." Ren said, but his expression felt… grim. I suppose a mentally unstable boy spouting lies of the end of the world would do that to someone. I thought to myself.
"Run! Run! It's coming! The day of reckoning! The Veil—" But the performer's voice became muffled, a strong hand gripping his mouth. Two guards had appeared, seemingly from the shadows themselves. They grabbed him by the arms, dragging him away as the boy, Vireth, screamed in hysterics.
"Come on, Ren, let's go somewhere—more private?" I said, voice fading into a quiet question. He still looked shaken.
"Yeah, here." He replied, now the one grabbing my arm, tugging me gently away from the still smoldering pedestal where Vireth had been standing.
We slipped into an empty alleyway. Ren looked left and right, scanning for any witnesses. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he activated his magic, raising us into the air and then onto the roof of a building. The light was fading, a beautiful, setting sun on the horizon. It lit the sky with bleeding gold and ember streaks. The last of its light clung to trees and buildings in the distance, slowly fading away.
"It's beautiful." I said breathlessly. He only nodded in affirmation, eyes gazing far away.
"Elira," he started, "do you ever think about… the future?"
"Every day."
"Of course you do." He smiled. "I don't. I can't even think about tomorrow. It just makes my head hurt."
"Then don't." I replied simply.
"But… how do I know what i'm supposed to do then?"
"Just listen to me." I grinned, turning to him. He met my gaze.
"Maybe I should." He reached a hand out, rubbing at a crumb of Mooncrust still left on my cheek.
My cheeks flushed, and I quickly turned my gaze downward. He leaned against me, resting his head against my shoulder.
Below us, smoke still curled from the markets.
Above, the first star blinked into the sky.
For now, we pretended it was just another evening.