Untitled-In progress

“Remember Kyr, as fantastic and wondrous that the Magic us mortals can wield is; no matter how inventive mortal Magi can be in their utilization of it,” My fathers deep voice was quiet as he spoke from across our small fire, the light flickering across his face in the black night, allowing his dark eyes to truly sparkle. 

“There are forces older than us, power that was taken from us long ago. Magic, if it was called that, which could influence the very laws that we have discovered dictate our reality.” His voice, although quiet, was full of wonder and passion. He trailed a single finger through the air in front of him holding it close to the fire then drawing it away, a small portion of the fire floating just off of his skin. 

“Not in the way we utilize and bend these laws with our Magics.” The small flame danced between my fathers fingers, trailing quickly around his arms, it always made me giggle when he made elements dance. The flame came to rest over his now open palm and began to slowly shift through the the frequencies of heat that my father had control of, the orange flame fading to a bright blue, bright blue to an almost translucent purple, then finally my father held a pin prick of brilliant pure white heat above his palm. 

He clapped his hands together quickly, sending a wave of heat over the area around him, extinguishing the fire and leaving us in complete darkness.

“But fundamentally change the laws binding the mortal imagination. Never forget…” 

Kyr awoke from the same dream he had been having for years, staring up at the plain stone above him, remembering that he has not been a child for many years. Certainly not since his father died. 

“If you don’t get up you are going to be late. I’m not waiting for you.” Malia’s voice came from the closing doorway as she left in a hurry. Kyr and Malia’s room was spacious but simple, their beds pressed against the wall opposite of the door under two large windows with a fair view of the fields surrounding the campus far below. Kyr often caught himself spending too long gazing down from this great height and wondering if he jumped would the wind catch him? Could he find what his father told him had been lost so long ago? 

But right then he was going to be late, Kyr knew that HeadMagi Allarian would be quite vexed if he were to be late again. Even if they may both be able to agree, Kyr needn’t actually attend class. Kyr chuckled at the image of Allarian admitting that out loud as he began gathering his bag, filled with various tools but most importantly his notebook and half of a two part ring, half of a glistening blue gem sat in a strange swirling band, which Kyr pushed onto his middle finger on his right hand. Finally pulling his uniform, fairly plain gray robes with colored belts featuring a number of golden stars indicating student year and rank. Kyrs sash was a deep purple featuring 2 golden stars, a second year of second highest rank. 

Kyr burst from his room into the hallways of the dormitory, unintentionally making two first year students drop their notes as Kyr ran along his way. Kyr had almost grown up in the halls of this ancient castle. Of course it hadn’t been used as a castle in over 500 years, the ArchMagi Rionalion converting the grounds into a stronghold for Magics. Kyr loved the castle, loved all of the ancient history he always felt just behind every corner, feeling as if there is an answer here calling to him. 

But all of that reverence only went so far, Kyr had been within the halls of the university for much longer than he had been a student. His father was one of the four HeadMagi that ran the University under the ArchMagi, and Kyr had been finding his way into mischief at almost every possible moment. 

After a few minutes of running down stairs and across small hallways Kyr looked up and down the hallway he found himself in to make sure it was empty. He placed his right hand flat onto the stone wall and willed the minerals of the stones in the wall to separate. The blue gem on his ring flashed with light then a small section of the wall simply fell apart, several piles of distinct minerals littered the ground allowing Kyr to enter a small passage he had discovered as a child. With a wave of his hand and another blue flash the wall reformed behind him, possibly stronger than before.   

When Kyr was 13 years old he had gotten lost in the hidden passage system within the walls of the ancient castle. His father had organized a University wide manhunt for him when he hadn’t returned the following morning, a group of third year students finding Kyr curled in a small ball behind a wall in the basement.

In the years since then Kyr had mapped the entire system for himself. Becoming intimately familiar with the dark and dreary corners, hidden and unknown to anyone but him, or at least as far as he knew. Kyr exited his hidden domain within a small hallway that would have been a servants hallway to the kitchens in the days of old, but was now left as a mostly unused hallway by straightlaced students. There was one other student in the hall as Kyr stepped from the wall, not looking towards him thankfully but alert enough to hear Kyr’s footsteps as well as the soft sound of the stone reforming behind him. 

“Who’s there?” The other student whispered in a harsh voice, Kyr recognized him as a fourth time first year who went by Mouse, a rather unfortunate looking man, with a rapidly balding head, sharply hooked nose and a considerable overbite tha really did make him look akin to a mouse. Kyr smiled brightly at him.

“Just me Mouse. I’m in a rush, got any news?” Kyr moved just past Mouse into the light of the main hallway, pausing to listen.

“News news news. Mouse spotted Valcry in the tunnels, he did not see Mouse, none can see if I want to stay not seen. Valcry was speaking with someone, Mouse did not see, but smelt; wrong.” Mouse always spoke in a sort of perpetual whisper, always so quiet. 

“Thanks Mouse.” Kyr was already jogging his way down the hallway lost in thought. What did the ArchMagi need to keep secret enough to meet someone in the hidden passages? Students weren’t necessarily prohibited from exploring them but they were unsupervised territory. And whatever happens behind solid walls… 

That was Kyr’s last thought as he slid his way through the closing doors of the Hall of Solidity, just in time to not be late for class. 

“Ahh Mister Sinstra, lovely of you to join us on time today. You may have grown up in this palace of learning but all of us are not so lucky.” HeadMagi Allarian was a man in the later half of his forties and thin as a reed, but not fragile, Allarian had a feeling of immense density as if his small frame was sturdier than met the eye. Kyr sauntered to his seat in the first row, just off the end of the row just next to Malia. It only bothered Kyr a little bit that Malia wasn’t acknowledging him in any way. 

“Good morning students, today we will be discussing and detailing the structures of granite…” Allarian launched into yet another lecture that Kyr had listened in on at a too young age, and satisfied that he had nothing more to learn from the old Magi today Kyr found himself free to let his mind wander, and wander it did. 

In smaller moments in Kyr’s childhood he would allow himself to truly daydream. Allow his extraordinary mind to let go with the science of today and dream of the possibilities of the past, and if he had any say about it, his future. Kyr never truly knew his mother, and his father had died when he was only seven leaving him in the care of the ArchMagi. ArchMagi Syrion Valcry had taken up the task of raising Kyr with glee, the two of them having already bonded through Kyr’s earliest years, Syrion had taken special notice of Kyr when the ArchMagi found a baby breaking apart metal pots in the kitchen. The ArchMagi had never before seen a baby with such a capacity for anything, let alone intimate manipulation of any State. And there was this little baby, sitting and staring at small piles of base minerals that used to be a large cooking pot. 

Kyr smiled to himself as he recalled the ArchMagi telling him this discovery he had made a few years after his fathers death, apparently he chuckled but was too far away in his mind to notice, but the old Magi lecturing certainly heard. 

“Mister Sinstra! Thank you so much for volunteering! Would you mind joining me please?” Allarian did love trying to get one up on the young prodigy, unlike the ArchMagi some of the HeadMagi were less than happy of being required to simply allow a child to roam the grounds free with little to no power to punish him for his mischief. That was until Kyr became a proper student, then he had to play by the same rules as everyone else, and the HeadMagi reveled in it. 

Kyr of course had no idea what it was Allarian seemed to need a volunteer for, but this was not his first time dealing with one of Allarians tests. It had also evolved into something of a university tradition among the students ever since Kyr was a child proper for students to make wagers amongst themselves on if the HeadMagi would finally catch Kyr on his backfoot; it had yet to happen as a student proper.

“It would be my pleasure, HeadMagi.” Kyr learned quickly that he would be given all the rope he needed to hang himself when he became a student, the best way to make them keep the rope is play perfectly by the rules; at least while they were watching. As Kyr made his way down to the small central podium where Allarian stood he scanned the materials laid out before the HeadMagi. It appeared he had laid out a single stone about as large as a fist, a small burner with an open flame, and a bowl of water. 

“Mister Sinstra if you would be kind enough as to demonstrate the principle of a Circle State Transition.” It took everything Allarian had to smother the smirk on his face. The rest of the lecture hall was less than quiet, what everyone but Kyr had heard the HeadMagi explain before this display was that a perfect cyclical system of State transition was nearly impossible by a single person. 

A cyclical State transition consists of all steps necessary to transpose any material found from its original state through the other primary two States and then returning to the original State. A near perfect knowledge of all States of a piece of matter are necessary to do this on ones own, making it nearly impossible to achieve alone. Holding a perfect image of the molecular structure of a single State of any piece of matter was difficult enough for longer than a moment, but holding all three while utilizing your own energy to support the reaction? Nearly unheard of alone. 

Kyr had to hand it to the old man. It seemed Allarian was rather through with subtlety. Simply designing a task that even the ArchMagi would struggle with.

“Of course HeadMagi, however seeing as I am but a single student may I select an assistant? Two of us should suffice.”  Kyr looked to his audience and heard the none to quiet conversation erupting amongst the students, at least Allarian had the decency to look slightly disappointed in himself.

“Of course Mister Sinstra, but as we are all aware it is best performed with the help of four is it not?” The HeadMagi always did have to try and have the last word.

“Malia, would you be willing to assist me in this demonstration?” Kyr held a straight expression best he could as he looked at the first ranked second year; his oldest friend. 

“It would be an honor to assist in the HeadMagi’s lesson.” Malia never did approve of the rivalry Kyr and the HeadMagi maintained, it was a pointless waste of time in her eyes. However, she was certainly not above adding another favor to the ever growing number that Kyr owed her. Malia made her way to the podium and stood to the side of the table of materials opposite Kyr. 

“I will take responsibility for the Gaseous State as well as the induction for the Liquid to Gas transition. This ridiculous show is your fault so you must do the rest.” Malia added that last part just to Kyr.

“Very well, thank you for your illustrious assistance Madam Castrion. Shall we begin?” Much like the HeadMagi, Kyr couldn’t help but revel a little in the performance of it all. It had all turned into a game for him. All he received in reply from Malia was a single nod as she stood at the ready.

Typically a Cyclical State conversion can be done without any grandiose demonstrations of flashy magic, however this was supposed to be a demonstration.  And Kyr was not one to let such an opportunity go to waste.

“Now class,” Malia rolled her eyes as Kyr began his portion of the lecture, “Cyclical conversion, as our grand HeadMagi explained, is a difficult process typically needing the constant attention of multiple Mages, why would this process be useful?” Audience participation was always Kyr’s favorite part of the bit. Several students put up their hands to answer the question posed by their peer. Kyr scanned those with raised hands  looking for who best could answer, and his eyes landed on Landon Gola, fifth ranked second year, “Landon?” 

“A cyclical conversion is useful for separation and analysis of all molecular structures within matter. A system used primarily for research and magical advancement.” Landon was a good student all around, a shorter boy with short blonde hair wearing square framed and thick lensed glasses. He also had no sense of imagination, something that always disappointed Kyr. The boy would be capable of so much more if he allowed his mind to wander outside of the rigid structure of magic the University teaches. 

Kyr laid his right hand onto the piece of stone on the table, one blue flash later and he knew that this stone was the same as the castle walls; Limestone. Kyr removed his hand from the stone and waved a single finger up, and the stone followed; floating gently into the air spinning slightly.

“Limestone, the stone that makes up most of the walls around us, is composed dominantly by Calcite, a combination of calcium, carbon and oxygen. And Dolomite, a combination of calcium, carbon, oxygen and magnesium.” As Kyr explained the base components of the stone it truly began to separate first into two smaller stones, Calcite and Dolomite and then further into several small clouds of fine powder, a solid state of all base elements, all floating in the air above Kyr. 

“With our present understanding of Magics, if we can fully picture the molecular structure of a base element we are able to separate compounds into those base elements. However, as fine of a powder as these elements are, if found as a solid it will remain a solid.” The separate powders coalesced into a single stream funneling into the bowl of water. Kyr raised his second hand, pushing the structures for the solid elements to one side of his mind, making room for the liquids and raising the water out of the bowl and into a swirling globe of churning water, the powder still funneling into the center of the sphere. 

“By mixing solid base elements into water with force allows solids to transition into a saturated and liquid form. From there with the proper understanding of how the liquid and solid elements differ in structure one is able to separate the elements in the Liquid state. A simple one step conversion process.” After all of the solids had mixed with the sphere of water separate liquid streams began flowing from the sphere, the liquid state of all elements found in Limestone, now with more oxygen and a bit of hydrogen as well. 

“In order to transition from liquid to gas a Magi needs some form of combustion, an open flame is typically the best if one has it available.” Without seeing the need to explain what she was doing Malia raised her hands in front of her, taking the oxygen burning as fuel and moved the combustion point, stealing the flame from the burner and lifting it into the path of the separated liquids and setting in her mind the gaseous structure of all elements listed by Kyr, as well as the small allocation for moving ambient oxygen to the fire. The streams of liquid all funneled their way to the hottest point of the flame being expelled the other side in varying levels of translucent gas on the other side ready for the final step; resolidification. 

“Resolidification is the most difficult to accomplish in a single reaction from the gaseous form for most materials. However, with a sufficient base knowledge of Luminosity you can jump that hurdle.” Kyr allowed the liquid forms slip from his imagination instead focusing his eyes on a single point then snapped his fingers, and a gasp from his classmates as a small sphere, about the size of a grown man's heart, of pure darkness appeared. The light simply removed from that space. Malia began to funnel the various gasses into the sphere as Kyr began the final part of his lecture. 

“The gas funneled into and held within a small space of absolute darkness replicates a natural need for immense pressure as well as a lack of heat needed to cross the bridge from gaseous to solid states.” A few moments later the dark sphere floated down and seemed to almost land in Kyr’s hand, another snap of his fingers to remove his influence on the light revealed a brand new piece of Limestone, exactly the same as it was minutes before. 

“That is a cyclical state conversion. Any Questions?” Kyr was met by applause from his classmates, most of them dream of being able to master the elements over one State; even that is a lifelong journey. Even a rudimentary grasp on two States at one time was something of note, the added use of Luminosity basics presented Kyr as upon a level unattainable in the eyes of many. But it was never enough for Kyr, no matter how much he knew, how many elements and their States that he mastered. 

Kyr needed to find the reason humans had seemingly forgotten so much. He needed to know if his fathers stories were true. No matter the cost. 

Kyr’s peaceful life with academia would soon be over. Not that he could understand that. Far far away from the University in a land covered by thick sheets of snow and ice for most of the year there was a figure walking through dark and abandoned streets. Their thick cloak flapped sharply in the rough wind, one gloved hand holding the edge of the hood to keep it in place and their face as obscured as possible. 

The figure stopped their near silent walk in front of a red door with peeling paint, featuring three visible locks and what could have been any number of bars and security measures within. The figure removed the glove on their left hand, exposing skin damaged by decades of sun, scarred by decades longer of physical labor and more than a couple different blades; and half of a silver ring and the blue gem set within. The figure laid the hand upon the door and willed all that blocked his path to separate. A single flash of blue later and the door, all visible and non visible locks, as well as a not insignificant portion the surrounding brick were simply gone; any residual solid particles swept away by the wind. 

The interior of the building was lightless, maybe darker the figure idly mused as they began stepping inside. Their foot stopped just before finishing the step across the threshold, the haft of a spear halfway through their chest, halting their movement entirely. The cloaked figure fell to their knees as the spear was ripped from them, blood flooding not only from the wound but from a mouth unseen. With a single wet cough they fell face down into the snow, they didn’t get to see the interior of the building become a normal level of lightlessness, a woman with short bright red hair dressed in thick furs of all kinds, a long spear in her hand now stained with blood.

“Oooh very shiny!” The woman cheered in the night. She slid the ring off of the now limp scarred hand and onto her own. “Too bad you won’t see it finished!” She flipped her spear and plunged it through the already still figure's neck, embedding the spear firmly in the ground below the snow. 

Another blue flash disturbed the night as the woman willed the air surrounding her body to move rocketing into the night. 

The day after his big lecture was going about just as Kyr’s typically do, at least two full meals, a healthy dose of mischief, and of course at least one small argument with Malia; all ways perfect with the world. But Kyr felt anything but peaceful inside, a deep sense of dread settled deep inside of his chest. He had decided to wander the castle in his hopes of settling his nerves, another was also wandering the halls in search of Kyr. 

“Kyr!” Kyr jumped after hearing the voice of the ArchMagi erupt from nowhere. He flicked his head to wear the voice originated and saw ArchMagi Valcry’s head sticking out of the hole in the wall. Valcry was not the frail thin old man that Allarian was even though the ArchMagi could very well have been ten years senior. A bushy snow white beard prominently displayed over a proud chin and allowing his wild large smile seem to grow wider than a normal man should be capable. Long hair, not quite as cleanly white as the beard but rapidly on the way, pulled gently out of his face with a leather band.  

“ArchMagi. How can I be of service?” Kyr immediately fell into his exceedingly formal manners. Valcry smiled ear to ear, it was almost unsettling to look at. 

“You can come with me right now.” WIth that the ArchMagi ducked back out of the small hole, the same hole rapidly expanded so there was enough room for Kyr to walk through, Valcry was already walking down through the hidden passage and walking fast. Kyr sealed the wall behind him in a rush and practically had to run to catch up with the ArchMagi, Valcry himself almost seemed to be bristling with excitement, the longer the two are walking the faster Valcry seems to move with little to no regard whether Kyr was actually keeping up. 

When Valcry stopped he did so so suddenly Kyr almost crashed into the ArchMagi’s back. As Kyr caught his breath he watched the ArchMagi pull a small flint and steel from somewhere from out of his robes striking the two together the ArchMagi’s eyes fixed themselves on a single spark and willed the surround air to move the nearby oxygen flowing into the spark to fuel a small flame. 

“ArchMagi, why do you always insist on using an open flame?” Valcry had several little quirks with the way he always utilized certain aspects of the States that were simply not normal. Kyr focused the tip of his finger, attaching a single point of ambient light upon it adding to the light in the small passage. As soon as the light bloomed Valcry was there wrapping his entire hand around the light and snuffing it immediately. Kyr looked into the ArchMagi’s eyes and saw an intensity he was not used to. 

“Fire was the way we helped ourselves see in the dark thousands of years ago. We will need it where we are going.” Valcry removed his hand from Kyrs finger, the intensity in his demeanor seemingly vanished. The ArchMagi split his fire three times, eight individual flames floating around the two Magi, Kyr knew immediately that he was unsure where exactly he was, incredibly disconcerting in a place he had claimed as almost his own. Kyr was filled with questions as Valcry began running his hands over what appeared to be a smooth slab of stone, very different to the cut blocks of the castle walls surrounding them, A smooth dark stone that had sparkling minerals running in veins through the stone, the minerals began to glow a soft purple as Valcry ran his hands across the stone, tracing his fingers in a complex pattern, the pattern itself being inlaid by the ArchMagi. 

“Kyr. There is coming a time in which you may find many answers to questions you have not. Your father and I never anticipated it happening this soon, I fear as hard as I tried you may not yet be ready. I must keep you safe.” As he was speaking the ArchMagi finished the pattern in the surface of the stone, the mineral veins pulsed brightly and the stone simply vanished, no evidence at all it had been there in the first place. Behind it seemed to be a black pit with sheer walls, what may have been an ancient well buried and lost behind centuries of development. 

“I am sorry my boy.” Kyr did not react in time as ArchMagi Valcry lifted the boy from his feet and tossed him into the pit. 

Kry had a lot of time for thinking as he fell through the darkness. It is greatly unfortunate then that it is very difficult to think clearly after being thrown into a dark pit, so he spent most of his time falling screaming, flailing, and given meager attempts failing to halt the air around his body to slow his dissent. By the time Kyr felt a rush of wind blow from below him he had screamed himself hoarse, finding himself laying face down upon what felt to be a metal grate Kyr could only guess how long he had been falling. He had never been afraid of heights but now he knew fearing falling was a different beast.

Kyr pushed himself slowly to his feet and began searching through his robes, assessing what he had on him; some twine, a small notepad and charcoal pencil, a small pouch of coins, and a flint and steel. The ArchMagi’s last warning about light echoed through his mind before he took out the flint and steel, struck them together and fueled a flame for light, a blue flash from his ring preceding the small flame that burst to life. 

Kyr positioned the flame a few feet in front of him and took a good look around, he knew for certain now that he stood upon a metal grate if there was anything to be seen below it was too far away,, but it stopped a few feet in front of him and gave way to a tunnel in the surrounding stone. It seemed to Kyr that wherever he was it was deep underground, perhaps a ruin of a time before the castle had stood. 

WIth nothing to do and nowhere to go but forward Kry began a slow careful walk, always keeping his flame roughly two feet ahead of him. As he walked he studied the walls of the tunnel, it appeared roughly hewn, either carved by hand tools or a very rudimentary understanding of solid elements. Kyr stopped frozen when he noticed the gouges, it looked as though someone had run their fingers through the stone like one might with soft clay. The marks were everywhere, criss crossing across walls, floor and ceiling, there was no discernible pattern for Kyr to pick up on as he stepped over and investigated the deep gouges. 

Kyr continued walking and the gouges continued with him, he could not think of any reason anyone or anything would do this with such frequency, how long had this taken? Why do it in the first place? Kyr reached a T intersection in the tunnel, the gouges led off down the left path, while the right path was surprisingly unmarred but there was a faint breeze coming down that way. As much as the marks intrigued Kyr he knew he needed to find his way out, question the ArchMagi as to why he had done this. 

Kyr made it perhaps 15 feet down his chosen path when he heard a noise behind him, something that may be described somewhere between a scream and a croak. A deep bellowing sound filled the cavern around Kyr, filling his brain with static and forcing him to his knees clutching his head, he turned in pain to try and catch a glimpse of what this might be and managed to hold onto his flame enough to send it down the hallway towards the sound. 

If whatever Kyr saw was once a human it was far from one then. The creature seemed to stand on two legs with three more limbs per side of its body making for eight limbs in total, all with three major joints, Kyr couldn’t see if it had hands. It’s body was inky black and shiny, like someone had bathed in ink, its head did not appear to have a mouth, a nose, eyes, or ears, but was a ridged and pointed shape that came to a point above and behind it, the ridges were vibrating intensly. 

It ceased the strange scream, the ridges on its head becoming still. It seemed to study the flame, or at least defer its attention. Kyr could only assume Valcry had thrust him into a nightmare, and he did what his heart was screaming at him to do. He bagan to run.

Kyr forgot about the flame he was using to see as he began running. Plunging himself almost immediately into stunning darkness, the only sensation the incredible vibrations from this things scream. Kyr couldn’t waist anytime with thought as he plunged himself through the darkness, it was unlucky the boy was unable to the wall he ran face first into. The impact made his mind flash with pain and he found himself lying on the floor dazed, not being able to remember exactly where he was running towards or where he was coming from. As the pain in his head began to dull he became aware that he couldn’t hear anything. Not only was he in pitch blackness but the only sound he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears.

Kyr sat with his back to the wall he had minutes before ran into. Attempting in vain to get his mind focused enough to hold a flame. It was in this time that he came to the conclusion that whatever it was he had just seen wasn’t following him, and assuming that thing was responsible for those strange gouges, the stunning lack of them in this section of the tunnel meant it didn’t come over here. As for a reason he could not fathom to guess at that moment. 

Not for the first time in the past, what seemed like hours, maybe 45 minutes Kyr wondered what that mad bastard Valcry had meant for him to learn or discover down here. Surely if the old man knew how to open this place then he knew about whatever that… thing is. So why the hell would Kyr get thrown down here alone?  Kyr was almost certain he could find a semi reasonable answer if he hadn’t bludgeoned himself. He had never had a major head injury before, or certainly nothing that felt like this.

He belatedly remembered to check himself to see if he was bleeding, he checked his forehead and scalp carefully with his fingers but found no blood, a raised bump and some bruising certainly, but no blood. 

The stone floor beneath him was not as cold as other caves and tunnels he had been in so he was content to sit and wait until his mind had recovered enough to hold a steady flame. Kyr was unsure how long he had been waiting when he finally managed to hold a fixed image of the oxygen needed for fuel in his mind for more than five seconds. By then he was incredibly bored, and more than a little worried that he had not heard anything from that creature since he ran away. He reached within his cloak for his flint and steel, struck it and fueled a small spark into a flame before him. 

After a moment of testing to see if he could truly hold the flame he began to stand, immediately struck with a sense of nausea making him stumble a step and steady himself against the wall. He leaned against the wall for support as he began to trudge in the direction he could only assume he had been running after seeing a slight discoloration in the stone similar to the size of his forehead. 

The tunnel didn’t change at all, rough hewn dark stone. Maybe it was a coincidence of him having to use the wall to support himself but it was notably a very different stone than used in the castle. The castle was constructed of primarily limestone, this was some sort of volcanic rock, smooth but if there was an edge it was very sharp. 

There was no change of scenery for another stretch of time that Kyr certainly felt was longer than he had been sitting in the dark but he couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t until the ground beneath his feet began to transition into softer dirt than hard stone that he felt a little hope of finding his way out. Despite the throbbing pain in his head he began to run, that faint breeze finally began to strengthen. 

After twenty minutes of stumble-jogging his way down the hallway, his flame flickering as his attention wavered, Kyr found himself at a small opening, on the other side he could see the night sky, lit with thousands of thousands of pin pricks of light, and a wide of expanse of grass plains. The crack seemed just big enough for him to squeeze through, he couldn’t get out fast enough. Kyr hadn’t expected the sense of relief that filled him as he touched grass again. He had let his fear get the best of him, he had hurt himself, almost really badly. 

Kyr laid in the grass looking up at the sky, for the first time seeing the castle high above him. Kyr had popped out a few hundred feet from the base of the castle's outer walls. He began to wonder what he should do when he caught a flash of bright blue from the sky above him. 

What looked like a bright blue star shooting though the sky towards the center of the university. Kyr began jogging again when it struck the second tower. He started sprinting when he heard the screaming. 

Briar never liked hearing people scream. It filled her heart with a horrible sensation, a crushing guilt and sadness. She was always at her worst when people around her were screaming. Briar was sprinting through the halls of the University, sure that she was being followed, the echoes of injured or dying students screams chasing her just as swiftly. She needed to make sure he was here-safe. 

Kyr was far away at that moment, trying to find the best way to enter from the outside wall of the castle. Quite far away from the screams, seemingly safe. 

Briar pushed open the door to one of the dormitory rooms and looked inside. Not there. She moved onto the next, and the next, and the next. Looking in any door that she could see and get open as she sprinted through the University. Around one corner Briar almost ran headlong into an older man with short black hair and a black beard kept close to his face. He was draped in long swooping robes of all shades of blue. 

The old man didn’t scream. That was good, Briar was happy with that as she continued her sprint through the halls. Briar knew that he should be here somewhere. Where could they keep him locked up and hidden away? There were a lot of people running through the halls of the University, screams stirring the panic. Briar knew as she was running that if he was here that she would know. She would feel it. 

There were a few who would know where to look, where to find what she was looking for. However, Briar did not know where to find them. Did they hate screaming like she did? She hoped that he would understand her- if anyone could. 

Briar was running and searching for the better part of two hours, she could have sworn she had been into every room that was able to be found. The screaming had long stopped, there were many students that had gathered in the main courtyard as soon as they had deemed it safe. Briar was walking slower through the halls, retreading paths previously searched when she heard a commotion form the courtyard. She ran to the nearest window and had to hold herself back from jumping through, as soon as she felt it. Like a second heartbeat, a soft thrum beginning at the base of one of her fingers on her right hand. 

Kyr was panting and exhausted as he arrived in the main courtyard of the University, a shocking amount of students, almost the entire student population, was in the courtyard. Many were crying, a few were injured; nothing too serious at a first glance. Kyr was stumbling towards the center of the courtyard where he caught a glimpse of who he hoped was Malia, someone who he could trust to explain what was happening. He didn’t make it.

Briar landed behind Kyr. A wave of air dispersed from around her body forceful enough to push anyone close to her back a few feet. Briar looked down on a young boy that looked so similar to him, this was not a possibility she had expected. There was a brilliant blue light as both rings flashed, Kyr and Briar both something like a second heartbeat emanating from the rings. 

“Who are you?” Kyr sounded so young as he stared at Briar. His eyes were too fixed on the dripping tip of a spear poking from over her shoulder.

“I have come to get you.” Briar took a step forward towards Kyr and he backpedaled as fast as he could, head still throbbing, Briar stopped. “I see you will not come willingly. Disappointing.” 

Kyr couldn’t say if he was able to see her move, but he knew he felt it. He knew exactly where her hand was at all times, and still he was helpless as Briar brought a closed fist hard across Kyr’s jaw. Doing what the stone wall could not and knocking him unconscious.   

Kyr woke up slowly, his jaw hurt, his forehead hurt, he felt like his entire head was throbbing. He couldn’t help but groan in pain, but he couldn’t touch his face; couldn’t move at all really. Kyr was tied to a tree, his arms bound so his hands were sitting near his lower back. Kyr moved his head too quickly as he tried to look at his surroundings, gasping louder than his earlier groan. 

“Oh good you are awake!” Briar had been staring at Kyr from the other side of a campfire, she had been waiting for a fair few hours, the sun had already begun to rise, casting the boy in a soft pink light. Kyr successfully lifted his head by the time Briar was within arms reach of him. 

“You are not Rylor.” Briar was not gentle as she grabbed his head and jerked it side to side, inspecting him, “But you look like he did long ago. And!” She pulled the ring off of her hand, a very familiar one half of a silver band with half of a gem, “You have his half! So!” She let go of his face and practically skipped back to where she had been sitting before Kyr woke. “Who are you?” 

Kyrs head was spinning. Who was this woman? The ring! With what limited feeling he had he could still feel the half he possessed on his own hand. 

“How do you know my father?” Was the only question Kyr could manage with the state of his thoughts, that was what his mind latched on to in all of the confusion. 

Briar sat straighter, her eyes widening while her pupils dilated. She sat there in silence, staring at the boy. Realizing that this boy had no idea what he was getting into. How very exciting. Her smile grew slowly until it stretched across her entire face, it was not a smile that brought Kyr any sense of safety.

“Rylor had a son? How very intriguing. What is your name, boy?” Briar was still a younger woman, only barely coming upon her 25th summer. But certainly still older than Kyr by almost a decade. 

“My name is Kyr.” Kyr was staring at Briar, trying his best to maintain eye contact with lethargic eyes, his head was still pounding. 

“Well Kyr. You have a few options I think.” She stood, leaped over the small fire and landed in front of him, “One, you give me that little ring you have and I will be on my way. Two, I kill you and take it from you and then go on my way. Or three, I explain why I came here in the first place and after that you can choose one of the first two options or choose to help me.” 

“How do you know my dad?” Kyr repeated his previous question. 

“It is a good thing that connects to my purpose here.” Briar was getting annoyed with this kid.

“Rylor was my teacher, before he vanished. I was sent a message that said he was waiting for me here, to find him. Instead of finding my dear master, I have found his…” Briar cocked her head to the side in thought, “Small offspring, wearing half of his ring!”

“I suppose Rylor either gifted or left that to you while he was playing house. My dear master once long ago told me that I may be left with it in the future. But now he is nowhere to be found. I thought I had found him a number of days ago but no. I found half of his ring being disgraced by a Magi not worthy to shine the master's shoes.” Briar's eyes had drifted away from Kyr, deep in memory, she was twisting the ring on her finger. After a long moment her attention snapped back to Kyr’s eyes.

“I need to find him and it would be much nicer if you helped me willingly. I do not enjoy it when people scream.” Kyr was terrified by this woman, her eyes held a depth of emotion and intensity that Kyr had never experienced before. She also seemed entirely convinced his father was alive, which wasn’t possible. 

“My father is dead.” Kys head exploded in pain as the back of his skull slammed into the tree, Briar's hand was wrapped around his throat, a grip tightening by the second.

“Explain.” Whatever sick joy Briar may have been experiencing was gone now.

“He died! I watched him burn to death five years ago!” Kyr yelled before his air was cut off by Briar’s vice-like grip. Suddenly Kyr could breathe again, Briar had removed her hand and stepped several feet back. 

“You will take me to where this happened. If you refuse, you die and I will find proof of this on my own.” Briars' tone left Kyr with no doubt she wasn’t expecting a reply. She picked her spear up from the ground and swept the edge across Kyr's bindings, separating him from the tree but leaving his hands bound behind him. She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away from the tree.
“I do not care how far. Walk.” Kyr felt the sharp point of Briar’s spear slowly start to push against his back, readily threatening to push into him if he did not begin walking, and quickly. So that is what he did.  

Kyr began walking north, and wouldn’t stop for almost two whole days. Briar was not cruel, she did not force Kyr to march long through the night, she allowed the boy to sleep, Whenever she hunted or foraged food and water for herself she either allowed, or forced the boy to eat and drink. Kyr simply was not equipped to survive in the way that Briar was. Briar was unwilling to participate in conversation, Kyr gave up on his third attempt, accepting the harsh silence of the march. 

“Why did you stop?” Briar was impatient. And Kyr had simply stopped walking. Kyr was staring at a patch of grass, smoldering and blackened grass. It appeared to Briar as though someone had simply made a large fire in the past day and a half and simply left it burning. Irresponsible yes, important no.

“It’s still burning.” Kyr sounded distant, his eyes were beginning to fill with tears but he didn’t seem to really be seeing anything. Briar realized where they were now. She simply left Kyr to his emotions, she stabbed her spear into the ground just behind Kyr then crouched on her hands and knees by the smoldering patch of ground. She touched it briefly, having to pull away quickly to not be burned. 

“What happened here?” Briar did not move from her position on the ground as she posed the question.

“This is where he died.” Kyr’s eyes were still very far away, years away. Briar stood up from where she was crouched and brushed her hands off on the front of her tunic. She took a serious look at Kyr, waiting expectantly, when a more satisfactory answer did not come her hand lashed hard across the boy's face. The slap was hard enough that it drove Kyr to the ground, shaking him back to the now, it wasn’t hard enough to knock him out though Briar needed him awake. When Kyr’s eyes had cleared from the tears, from his emotional state and the slap, the first thing he saw was the tip of Briar’s spear a few mere inches from his right eye.

“I will remind you that I do not enjoy pressing for answers. But I will if I have to.” Her spear shifted until the tip was pressed uncomfortably against the tips of his nose. 

“Now I will ask you once more. What happened here?” Kyr felt any sense of fight leave him, this woman horrified him deep in his core. 

“Five years ago my father brought me here to watch a meteor shower, and camp like I had when I was much younger. He felt a little distant for most of the night. He gifted me the ring that night, or the half that I have. He only ever had half that I can remember. After he had pushed it onto my finger, they made themselves known. I didn’t get a good look at any of them. It was the middle of the night and they were Magi. I didn’t know what the ring was yet or how to use it, so I couldn't help him. I knew my father could fight but I had never seen him like he was that night, there were too many of them, I thought he was invincible. He told me to run as they began to corner him.” Kyr couldn’t stop the tears from falling at that point.

“I ran away at first. Then I heard screaming, screaming I knew wasn’t from my father. I started to run back when I heard even more screaming. This time it was his. I crept back, hiding in the brush and grass. I saw the end of it all. When I got back the Magi who had attacked my father were standing in front of a roaring fire, a shape writhing and screaming within. We all watched him burn for quite some time. They left very quickly once the fire had burned out. They just left the ground smoldering, seemingly certain there was no more trace of my father. I wasn’t even left with bones to bury.”

Briar stalked away in a huff. Leaving Kyr gasping for air laying on the ground, she was not happy about what she had heard. No one in Briar's memory with Rylor had ever defeated him; certainly no one had gotten close enough to kill him. Briar was marching back to Kyr as he was finally getting to his feet; she gripped her spear close to the tip and swung the haft at Kyr’s ankles, sweeping his legs from him once again.

“You stay right there!” Briar was yelling now, her voice full of emotion Kyr did not expect from the woman who had threatened him. Who now stood over him with one foot on his chest with very real tears in her eyes. Kyr was baffled. Who was this woman? And why did his father seem to mean so much to her? Kyr had a million questions rattling through his mind as he stared up at Briar. 

Briar took her time pulling herself together. Kyr wasn’t sure how long he was laying on the ground but they had arrived here close to mid day and by the time Briar lifted her foot off of his chest the sky was turning pink as the sun approached the horizon. Kyr didn’t bother to stand, electing to sit so he didn’t get knocked down a third time today. Briar had pulled herself from her emotions and moved to insect the smoldering ground once more. Kyr simply sat and watched. 

Briar, on hands and knees, began digging through the soot caked on the grass, it was still hot but as long as she stayed away from any small active burning spots her hands were fine. Briar didn’t know what she was looking for under the accumulated ashes, she simply needed to find something, Kyr flinched when Briar expelled a yell of pain. Briar yanked her hands out of the ashes, her arms stained black to the elbow, two of her fingers on her left hand were bleeding.

She thrust her hands back into the ash with redoubled vigor at the sight of the blood. Her eyes went wide as she had found what cut her fingers, a blade, or half of one really. She slowly drew what she had found from the ashes, the point and upper half of a sword revealed itself, the broken edge much smoother than she may have expected. 

The metal of the blade was a deep shade of maroon, etched with runes that ran up both faces of the deep triangular fuller on both flats of the blade. It was double sided and as Briar had just discovered, still sharp. Briar sat back on her knees holding the blade in both hands. The tears began to fall once more, silent this time, a resignation falling heavy on Briar's heart. 

Now it was Kyrs turn to be confused. As he had told Briar, he had watched his father fight that night, but as many times as that night played back through Kyrs mind his father had never had his sword. The only time Kyr had ever seen the blade was when he had been in his fathers office, it had been hung above his desk. 

He knew his father had been a fighter long ago, and no slouch with a sword or any weapon for that matter, but Kyr always thought that sword was ceremonial. He had never seen his father touch it, whenever Kyr would ask about it his father was always quick to distract his overactive mind with something else. And now Kyr was learning that his father had much more of a life before him than he thought. 

Did he ever really know him? 

Wack 

“Too slow.” 

Wack 

“Arms up.” 

Wack 

“Keep your eyes open.” 

Wack 

“Stop.” 

Most of Briars days had consisted like this training with Rylor in her younger years. Sparring with her master always ended with at least a dozen new bruises. She was young, which wasn’t her fault, but Rylor was not a teacher who liked to repeat himself nor was he one to give repeat lessons. Briar was softer as a child, sweeter, perhaps less pure in some ways but most certainly kinder. Rylor was certain Briar learned the world could and would be a cruel place. 

“Your feet need to move faster.” Rylor was speaking to her as she put away her practice blade, made of a hardwood, heavier than a proper sword would be, non lethal but if she ever landed a hit she would certainly be rewarded with the sight of a bruise. Rylor, as always, had used his sword, when he made impact it would be with the flats of the blade, or if he was feeling in the mood to punish or test Briar he would attack all out- striking with the edges of the blade. Only when he was a hair from impact would he will the air in between the blade and the edge of Briar's flesh to move, the momentum of Rylors strike causing the air to strike Briar like a whip. Brutal certainly, but it never was enough to draw blood.

Briar never answered instructions. She internalized them, she had never seen the need for an answer, Rylor instructed and Briar listened, a system that saw both of them perfectly content for some time. Rylor trained Briar in almost every kind of handheld weapon, a small gift of genetics and the harsh training Rylor put them both through everyday had forged her into a taller than average young woman, stronger than most full grown men. Rylor was certain they spent an equal amount of time drilling various elements in all States. 

Rylor specialized in Gases but had a fairly solid basis in the other two. Much like his son would, Rylor also recognized the untapped potential of Lumination as well, anything to give himself an edge. With his teaching, Briars need to become better, to get stronger, to learn Briar became Rylors living weapon. 

What Rylor had not anticipated when he had found a practically feral child drying in the snow, was that this girl would learn to love him like a father. Of course it wasn’t entirely Rylors fault, he had been focused on keeping the two of them alive, making sure that the individuals hunting him did not get a hold of or begin hunting her. 

Kyr stood just to the side of Briar, watching in wonder as this woman who has at all other times been the strongest person he had ever seen simply stared at half of a sword crying. Not making a sound past the few involuntary sobs that would occasionally pull from Briar's throat.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried in his fathers memory. He had cried when his father had died, he was there watching after all. But after that he couldn’t recall feeling much of anything after. He had been found in the bush he had hidden in by the ArchMagi and taken back to the University. He had been there ever since, his father had faded to something closer to a childhood fairytale than his father, instead of being the person who had told him the story of the power humans had lost but rather a part of the story. 

That realization did not sit well with the young man. Neither did the fact that a woman who had struck genuine fear into the hearts of not only himself, but all those he had seen in the Universities courtyard, was displaying more emotion for his father than he could ever remember feeling himself. So Kyr decided to do what he felt he must. 

“Here.” Kyr held his half of the ring down to Briar. Briar, for her part, managed to halt the flow of tears to gaze up at him, eyes darting between the ring in his hand and his face. When Briar made no move to stand or take the ring Kyr continued.

“You obviously knew my father better than I ever did. Hell, I was here when it happened and I didn’t know he had brought that sword. If you need this for whatever it was that you two were doing then just take it.” Kyr couldn’t bring himself to make direct eye contact with Briar for more than a moment. He didn’t see the confusion pass over Briar’s face. The tears stopped as she began to try and fit what Kyr had just said about the sword into the story she had heard earlier. He didn’t see as she stood silently, her eyes shifting to a more primal emotion.

“Your father did not die here.” Briar pushed his hand holding the ring back towards him, earning a surprised and confused look from Kyr. “If you say he did not bring this blade when you two were originally here then he must have deposited it here later for someone, hopefully one of us to find. He must be alive, or at least he did not die here when you thought he did.”

“What?” Kyr could barely even say that. Briar obviously knew his father better than he had but there was no way he could be alive- could there? Briar walked a short distance away from Kyr and retrieved her spear. She stabbed the point deep into the earth then took the blade in her hand and used it to initiate a split in the but of her spear. She removed one of the leather bands tied around her arm and used it to tie and secure the blade within the split, giving her spear a second, more temporary point. Briar wrenched the spear from the ground, feeling the new weight, not nearly as much as it should have been. 

“The Rylor I knew was- is, may be- many things.” Briar swept her spear under her arm, holding it close to her. “Easily killable was never one of them. So if he has to be alive, and if he hasn’t even told his son then he either doesn’t want to be found or-” Briar moved back towards Kyr and laid a hand on his shoulder, “something else is at play. So you have another choice to make, will you help me find your father or go back to the safety of the university?” 

Kyr hadn’t gotten to finish a single breath before Briar raised a single finger, halting any potential response from the boy. 

“If you come with me you will not be safe. This is not a threat on my part, but a harsh truth of the world you have been shielded from. If you come we will spend as much time as needed to get you in fighting shape. Now that I know you exist it wouldn’t do to have you getting yourself killed, it would reflect incredibly poorly on my masters teachings.” 

Briar dropped her hand, backed up a few steps and gave Kyr an expectant look. 

“What kind of training?” Was all Kyr could think to ask. 

“The University taught you theories and formulas. I will teach you as Rylor taught me. You will learn not just how to manipulate the States, but make them work for you. Highly practical application. I will forge you as your father did me. Into a Magi, a weapon, with no equal.” 

Kyr’s head was spinning. As far as he could remember his father had told him stories of battles and a war long ago, his father had always made it seem so real- maybe that is because it was real. Why had his father never trained him to fight? Did Kyr even want to learn to fight? How was he supposed to make this kind of decision? Kyr abruptly sat on the ground out of fear he might pass out, he clutched his legs to his chest, hyperventilating. 

Briar simply watched this happen. She was much younger than Kyr when she had begun her training with Rylor, had she ever been as weak as Kyr? No the boy wasn’t weak- he was untrained. Unfocused and sheltered absolutely, but certainly not weak- he wouldn’t be able to wear the ring otherwise.