When she was six years old, Arielle Blacksoil caught a strange man sleeping in her mother’s bed.
He had a mop of curly brown hair, a symmetrical face, and dimples that were apparent even in sleep, with naturally upturned lips as though amused by his dreams.
He reminded her of a prince in the picture books her mother would bring back from her raids in Eastlands.
The effect was slightly ruined by the fact that he snored like a wild boar.
Ari contemplated the unusual sight for a few seconds, then did the only logical thing she could do.
She shook him awake and told him she was hungry.
It was thirty minutes past her usual feeding time, and she'd waited long enough. No one else was at home to prepare her meal, and she wasn't old enough to man the hearth on her own.
She did not have to check to know her family was gone. The house was eerily silent, and the only sign of life she could see was in this room.
She wasn’t all that curious about where her parents were or why this strange man was in their bed. She was mostly bothered because this signified a change in her routine, and changes in routine made her deeply uncomfortable.
The man woke with a start, swinging his head left and right. At first, he seemed surprised and asked her who she was–ironic, considering he was the interloper here.
Despite that, Arielle made herself presentable. She patted her hair down and tucked it behind her ears. She also straightened her boar tunic and introduced herself as best as she could.
“I am Arielle Blacksoil, and I am six,” she told him.
The man swept curly hair out of his face and gave a crooked, bleary smile. “Hi Arielle. I’m Master Elric Barnes, and I’m...well, far too old to be getting sloshed in a backwater pub in Fenway.” He ran his hand over his face. “Also, too old to be waking up in a stranger’s bed. Did she really carry me all the way here? Or did he do it? Either way, they must have the strength of an ox. Then again, you Mossbornes tend to be born that way, don’t you?”
Arielle had no idea what he was rambling about. She returned to the more pressing topic at hand. “I’m hungry.”
“Yes, of course. You would be, wouldn’t you? Considering that it’s…” He started when he glanced at the window, where the sun was sitting high in the sky. “Merciful Heavens, is that the time? Where are your parents?”
Ari shrugged.
“And your siblings?”
She shrugged again. Her stomach growled. The man sighed.
“Alright then. I suppose I can whip up something to eat.”
He got out of bed and waved his right hand, muttering, "[Sanctum Cleanse]."
The words held a distinct, sacred echo, and at the utterance, smooth, pearlescent, colorful orbs swept towards his hands, forming silvery linkages with one another.
Her heart skipped as a mild breeze circled his body, removing specks of dirt, grass, and mud from his clothes and skin. Arielle knew then what he was.
A mage. An Ascendant.
It was the first time Arielle had seen magic up close, the first time she'd watched such perfectly circular, vibrant spheres forming a glowing sigil in the air.
Arielle forgot all about her hunger in that moment, watching intently, eager to see more.
However, all too soon the magic was over. The particles he'd used dissipated into the atmosphere, having lost their luster, diffusing into the rest of the non-glowing orbs.
For as long as she could remember, Arielle had always seen the orbs around her. They weren't like the ones the mage had used for his magical spell. Mostly, they were dull and imperfect in some way, either chipped, scratched, or twisted at the midpoint.
Nevertheless, as flawed as they were, she liked all her spirit friends, as her grandmother called them. They were a constant hum in her world, a soothing melody that added a comforting sameness to every situation.
Some people told Arielle she was lying about seeing the orbs, even though Ari didn’t lie about anything, as a rule. She wasn’t good at it.
Still, the other kids called her a fibber. Some of them called her mad. Her family believed her because her great-grandmother had the same affliction of seeing things that weren't there, but they also thought she would grow out of it.
They did warn her to stop telling people she could see these things, or she would never make friends.
Arielle had stopped some time ago. She still had no friends.
After he put his shoes on, Arielle followed Master Elric down the narrow wooden steps to their kitchen. As Keepers of the Bog and senior members of the Mire Council, their home was one of the largest in Fenway Basin, built right on the edge of the swamp. It was raised a few feet off the ground with wooden timber posts driven into firmer soil. The stilts often sensed changes in the river current, which could warn of incoming monster attacks. Some Mossbornes also used it to detect travellers from miles away.
In the kitchen, Arielle slid into her stool at the edge of the table while Mage Elric looked around.
“Soup?” he suggested.
She shook her head.
“How about toast with some lovely berry jam? Do you have that?"
“Mother makes bean porridge with three quail eggs and rye for breakfast.”
“I see. That seems like a lot. How about we try something different? It's nearly lunch time.”
“It’s still morning, which makes it breakfast. Mother makes bean porridge with three quail eggs and rye for breakfast.”
He sighed. “Bean porridge it is. [Culinae Vocare]."
Once more, the orbs swept out of a smooth black device at his waistline, linking to form multiple geometric shapes joined together by silver linkages.
A burst of wind then dispersed around the kitchen, opening cabinets, retrieving ingredients, and sweeping them toward the kitchen counter.
"You'll have to forgive me," he said distantly as his magic swirled in the air. "My bean porridge is middling at best."
Ari didn't answer. She barely heard him.
As he cooked, the magic remained in effect, retrieving and returning the items that he used. It was the most fantastic thing she'd ever seen, all the swirling colors, with the perfect orbs congregating around him, especially around his waistband.
Arielle reached out and made the same fluid hand movement that he’d used to activate the spell.
She muttered, "[Culinae Vocare]."
To her disappointment, the orbs did not swim to her. They buzzed louder, but they stayed in place.
She frowned and did it again, but this time he caught her and smiled.
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“Trying to do magic, are you?”
She nodded.
“Well, love, it's not as simple as saying the words and moving your hands around. You’ve got to have the right spell form for starters and draw the correct isotopes of the right essences in their right oxidation states. Not to mention your cores must already be trained to grasp these essences, and that only happens after awakening."
She cocked her head at him. He'd just uttered so many new words she'd never heard before.
He continued talking, more conversational than lecturing. "There are five essences with their corresponding essence cores: Calor, Massa, Vacu, Luxa, Vitae. Depending on the spell, you must combine some or all of the essences into the right spell structure and balance out the equation. And since you’ll be a beginner, you'll probably need a wand to start with.”
“A wand?”
“Yes. A magical usage device. Only expert mages like myself and Archmages can control essences without it. Typically, it takes decades to get to that point. I awakened when I was a few years older than you are, and I only reached Master rank ten years ago. Can you believe it? It's taken me almost forty years."
"You're forty?" That was the truly shocking part of the statement. Her father was forty, too, and this man looked much younger. He looked about half the age.
"Well," Elric made a flustered noise. "You never ask an Ascendant their real age, but let's just say I'm quite a bit older than forty."
"You're old." It was still unbelievable to her.
"That I am. But on the bright side, I'm approaching Level 500 and have nearly completed my Grimoire. I'm the first Ascended to cross Level 400 in almost ten years.” He gave her a look that suggested she should have a reaction to that.
“Wow,” she said in a deadpan voice, and he snorted.
“Yeah, I don’t suppose you’ll be impressed by that, not knowing what it represents, but trust me, it’s very impressive.”
“Can you do another magic spell?”
"Which one do you want?"
She shrugged.
“Hmm…how about one that shows you my Grimoire and my current ranking?"
"Okay." She didn't care what he did. She just wanted to see the colorful orbs race and dance.
This time, the spell was wordless. He waved away the old orbs and waved some new ones into shape.
Black dust floated from nowhere, hardening into a film. Words began to form on the film, faster than she could read them:
Subject: Elric Earthbinder
Title: The Unbroken Dawn
Tier: Master
Mage Rank: 55
Level: 420
Focus: Massa-Luxa lean.
Specialty: Reconstruction and Density Manipulation, Calming Spells, Arcane Rebalancing.
GRIMOIRE:
Axiom of the Unbroken Form [Archmage Tier]
Cathedral of the Living Light [Archmage Tier]
Gravitas of the Revealed Axis [Master Tier]
He spun his hand in a counter rotation, and it swept away the screen.
“Wow,” Arielle repeated, and this time she added a clap. He seemed pleased.
“My growth has been rapid, but the trade-off is that my cores aren't as balanced as I would like. Mostly because I had a terrible core stabilization master, and well…I don’t want to get into it. Reminds me of my academy days.”
“You were in an academy?”
“Oh, I was in the academy. The Erynwall Academy of Stoichiomancy. One of the more prestigious colleges in the Western Hemisphere.” He looked into the distance, eyes glittering. "It was the best of times and also the worst of times. Can’t decide if I miss it or if I want to take an Unknowing potion and purge it from my mind entirely.”
"Can I go there too?”
“Erm…" His gaze dropped as he busied himself with moving the pot to the fire. “I doubt it.”
“Why not? I want to learn magic.” Then she would be able to play with the orbs as he did.
“Well,” he coughed into his fist. "You see, it's quite complicated...”
The front door was thrown open suddenly, and Mage Elric breathed a sigh of relief.
The atmosphere was suddenly filled with a rush of noise as the rest of the Blacksoil clan poured in. Mother and Father came first, and they were arguing about something, but their words were punctuated with laughter and fond jostling before they got back to arguing.
Ari's brother Brom, sullen, followed after them.
Her mother, Thessa Blacksoil, saw her first as she entered the kitchen.
“Ari, my heart. You're awake."
"Yes." She woke up at the third rooster call every day.
Her mother came to her first, picking her up and peppering her cheeks with kisses, before nuzzling her. As always, Arielle found the experience unpleasant, the rough texture of her mother's war-toughened skin triggering a tightness in her chest. Her hands lifted in a reflexive 'stop' gesture. Ari wanted to push away, but the last time she'd done that, her mother had been sad.
She didn't want to make her mother sad again.
So, Ari suffered the treatment as long as she could before kicking her feet and leaning away.
Thessa let her down. "Sorry, we weren't here to offer you a restorative morning draught, Master Elric. We had to hunt down our wayward son, because he–hang on, why are you making her breakfast? Where's Celie?"
Arielle shrugged. She knew where her sister was, but she wasn't allowed to say.
Her mother threw up her hands in exasperation. "By the bog, what manner of children do I have? I bet she's with Fenwick's son again." She rolled her eyes, then jabbed her thumb at her son. "And I caught this one sneaking out to hunt Glowfrogs in the reeds at dawn."
"I could have gotten ten silver for those glowfrogs," Brom responded.
"You could have easily gotten poisoned and died."
"Ah Thess, don't say that." Torv Blacksoil, Ari's father, made a face and shuddered. "Just the thought of my son dying in such a humiliating way sends shivers down my spine." He closed his eyes and muttered an ancient prayer. "Boglord, please grant my son a proper death. He will die in war, in a blaze of glory, the way you intended."
Brom frowned. Thessa ignored him.
"Your sister's going to get an earful from me," Thessa said. "I’m sorry you have to do this, Master Elric."
“It’s not a problem." The mage seemed bemused by the conversation. "Thank you for bringing me home. I do not typically drink so much, so I had no clue my tolerance was that abysmal."
“Nothing wrong with your tolerance, my friend," Torv said. "You've simply never had Fenway's Devilbreath before." He planted his hand on Elric's back in what was supposed to be a pat, but landed hard enough to make the other man wince. “It's the Elixir of the gods, I tell you. We might not have much, but at least we have that. Besides, you won our wager. It was cause for celebration.”
“Wager?" Arielle cocked her head. “You gambled?” She said it like the accusation it was.
Her father looked guilty. “Oh my Ari, just a wee bit…”
“Grandma says gambling is for dullards, drunks, and devils.”
“Well, your grandmother smoked so much bogmint she can’t get her days straight, so what does she know?”
Arielle's mother smacked her husband on the back of his head, but he laughed.
"In any case," Master Elric said. "Thank you for opening your home to me."
“You’re welcome," Thessa said to him. “We didn’t want you passed out on the streets. Very dangerous."
“You were concerned I’d be murdered?” Mage Elric sounded amused.
"Of course not. No one is stupid enough to attempt to murder an Ascendant. That would be calling the wrath of the gods. But your coin purse looked quite hefty. I bet Baker Ruth’s boy and his sticky fingers were already plotting on it."
"Why can't I go to the magic Academy?” Ari asked, not feeling like waiting for a lull in conversation to ask.
“Because, little sprite, we’re Mossborne, not Greenfingers,” her father responded, as her brother moved to the bread rolls on the counter. “We can’t use magic.”
"Why not?"
“Who knows?"
"Maybe we’re cursed," Brom said, biting into a roll.
“No, we're blessed. Who needs magic when you have these gifted by the Boglord himself?” Father flexed both arms, showing off mounds of muscle and triggering head shakes from both Thessa and Brom.
“I don’t have those.” Areille pointed out.
"That’s because you’re a late bloomer. Like your mother. She didn’t get her strength till she was nearly sixteen. But after she did, well, she was unstoppable. On her eighteenth birthday, she single-handedly led the raid that slaughtered the Northern Reedwalkers, ending their invasion." He gave his wife a proud look. "Speaking of which…” He turned to Mage Eric once more and laid his hand on his chest in a traditional gesture of supreme respect. “Thank you once again for settling the quota issue with the Greenfingers. We’re so relieved, especially given that it’s nearly hunting season, and assigning so many men to the Reeds leaves the village vulnerable. You have done a great service to us, Master Elric."
Mage Elric winced again, even though no one had hit him this time. “I wouldn’t say it’s entirely settled.”
Her father’s face dropped. The half-formed smile slid from her mother's features as well. Ari wasn’t good at interpreting expressions, but even she could tell that a tension had been injected into the atmosphere.
“But last night, you said…”
“You were too drunk to understand what I was saying properly,” Master Elric said as he ladled the thickening porridge into a carved wooden bowl. “The truth is, after killing the mossgiants, I investigated the Greenfinger’s claim and found that the Northern barrier had an anomalous presentation, which affects their crop yield. They do indeed have far less grain than last year. Moreover, it suggested that there would be more Mossgiants coming in the future."
“That can’t be! We killed like thirty of them over the growing season. We counted.”
“Yes, but a couple of other villages have been experiencing increased monster attacks as well, thanks to the same barrier issue, probably. We’re not sure what caused it, but we’ll be getting to the bottom of it soon." He sighed. “In the meantime, we cannot in good conscience demand that they part with even more of their limited grain for you.”
“So what?” Ari’s mother’s voice was quieter than her father’s, but no less irked. “We just starve then? After we've protected them and their fields for years?"
"No. There might be another way to make things more equitable.” Master Elric turned to Ari pointedly, and her mother cleared her throat.
“Ari, Bram, we want to talk to the mage in private."
“About…” Bram suggested.
"About adult matters."
"I don't want to go."
"I'm not asking," Thessa turned to her daughter. "Ari, go to your room and read one of your books. By the time we're done, your porridge should have cooled down."
“I've read all my books," Ari responded, not appreciating yet another change in her routine.
“Even the new ones I bought you?”
Areille nodded.
“You can read this,” Elric said, materializing the book in his hand with a quick swish of the orbs. “It’s one of my elementary textbooks, teaching about essences and core stabilization. That should keep you occupied for some time.”
Aerie perked up. It would teach her to make the shiny orbs go swishy-swishy. How to make them form shapes.
She nodded, grabbed the book, and dashed to her room.
.

