《The Saga of Leonard The Cutter》


 Within The Trees of Telones

    Due west of Param, where the skies stretched ever blue and clouds drifted like wisps of cotton, lay the town of Telones.


    Its people¡ªrugged and humble¡ªmade their living from the surrounding forests. With sharpened axes, the men felled the mighty trees of Shloam, as the ancients had named this land long ago. Here, the legendary Mukbar trees grew¡ªgreat towering giants that defied decay.


    Each day, the forest trembled with the deep, resonant crash of falling timber. The river that cut through Telones roared as logs tumbled from nearby cliffs, rolling into the current to be carried downstream. In town, the women took up their craft. With practiced hands and an array of tools, they sawed, carved, and smoothed the Mukbar wood into forms both useful and beautiful.


    Chairs, tables, statues, toys¡ªthere was nothing the women of Telones couldn¡¯t shape from the wood.


    Thus, the men and women worked together, their labor intertwined like the roots of the great trees.


    As for their children, they busied themselves with all manner of interests¡ªbug catching, river diving, book reading.


    One boy, in particular, had a fondness for the tiny creatures of the forest. Snot-nosed and perpetually dirt-streaked, his hands were never clean¡ªalways clutching a fistful of soil or some squirming critter sure to send the girls shrieking.


    ¡°Leonard!¡±


    His fun was always cut short by that familiar call, echoing from their home at dusk¡ªalways before dinner.


    ¡°Coming, Mother!¡± he shouted back, stuffing his latest prize¡ªa truly magnificent bug¡ªinto his pocket. Another fine addition to his collection.


    While the outdoors filled young Leonard¡¯s mind with wonder, nothing could beat the warmth and safety of home.


    Stepping inside, he was greeted by the comforting glow of the fireplace and the rich aroma of his mother¡¯s stew.


    ¡°No dilly-dallying this time,¡± his father remarked, clearly impressed as he tended the fire.


    ¡°But dirty as always,¡± his mother added with a chuckle. ¡°Go wash up¡ªand tell your brother to get his nose out of those books.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Leonard replied, throwing a playful salute.


    The water was stored outside in a massive jug, nearly twice his size, which his father faithfully filled each day. He tied his beetle down nearby, stripped off his dirt-caked clothes, and scrubbed just enough to rid himself of the day¡¯s grime¡ªa skill ingrained in him since before he could remember.


    Once finished, he peeked around the corner of the house, spotting a flickering light up in the treehouse. It had been his idea, built by his father after relentless begging. Yet, after just a few days, Leonard had grown bored of it.


    His older brother, however, saw it differently.


    Like a thief in the night, Leonard crept up the wooden rungs, careful not to make a sound. As expected, there Richard sat¡ªeyes narrowed, squinting at the pages of a book, the dim glow of a lamp barely enough to illuminate the words.


    ¡°Richard!¡±


    The sudden shout sent his brother jolting upright, nearly knocking over the lamp he¡¯d placed precariously beside him.


    ¡°Brother!¡± Richard gasped. ¡°You scared the lights out of me!¡±


    Leonard grinned. ¡°That¡¯s what you get for being distracted.¡± With a triumphant flourish, he pulled out his prize. ¡°Look what I found!¡±


    Richard¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s a King¡¯s Beetle!¡± he breathed, nearly yanking the creature from his brother¡¯s hands. ¡°Where in the world did you find this?¡±


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    Leonard puffed out his chest. ¡°A little bit of honey, some sticky sap, and a simple trap,¡± he declared.


    ¡°Good work,¡± Richard said, heading toward a small pantry filled with glass jars. Inside them, their past treasures gleamed¡ªbeetles, scarabs, and all manner of critters carefully preserved.


    This was their childhood. Their daily ritual. A life that, in young Leonard¡¯s mind, felt like it would last forever.


    Until the carriage arrived.


    Their father pulled Richard into a tight embrace, his rough hands trembling. ¡°Be good, my boy,¡± he said, his voice thick with emotion.


    Their mother cradled Richard¡¯s face in her hands, memorizing every detail. ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you,¡± she whispered between shallow breaths.


    Leonard stood frozen, a fresh-caught beetle clenched in his small fist. He couldn''t comprehend it¡ªnot fully. His world, the one where he and Richard collected bugs and played in the treehouse, was suddenly shattering before him.


    Noticing this, Richard knelt down, bringing them eye to eye.


    ¡°Hey, little brother,¡± he said gently. ¡°Got something in your hands?¡±


    Leonard¡¯s grip tightened. ¡°What¡¯s it matter?¡± he muttered, his young heart brimming with anger. ¡°You¡¯re leaving anyway.¡±


    Richard smiled, though his eyes wavered. ¡°Still¡­ would you show it to me?¡±


    After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Leonard slowly opened his hand, revealing a golden scarab, its shell glinting in the light.


    ¡°Fantastic,¡± Richard murmured, his smile tinged with sadness.


    ¡°Will you come back?¡± Leonard asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Richard admitted, his words catching in his throat. ¡°I¡¯ll have a wife now. A family of my own. Things will be¡­ different.¡±


    Leonard hesitated.


    ¡°But,¡± Richard said finally, placing a firm hand on his brother¡¯s shoulder, ¡°we¡¯ll always be brothers.¡±


    Leonard never truly understood those words¡ªnot then. He didn¡¯t understand why Richard had to leave or what awaited him beyond Telones. But those final words, simple yet heavy, etched themselves into his heart.


    Months passed before he received a letter. A short one. Richard wrote of his life as a husband, his studies, and the prestigious academy he had joined¡ªan academy filled with the brightest mages in the country.


    The mere mention of magic set Leonard¡¯s young mind ablaze. From that moment on, he scoured every inch of Telones for anything even remotely magical.


    Then, one day, as he dashed about near the temple, swinging a stick like a wand and muttering made-up incantations, a familiar voice called out.


    ¡°You better hold your horses, young fella, or your parents might ship you off like that talented brother of yours.¡±


    Leonard spun around to see Father Melan, the aging priest, fishing a cigarette from his pocket.


    ¡°Father Melan!¡± Leonard cried, abandoning his imaginary battle to charge at the man¡ªheadfirst.


    ¡°Oof!¡± The priest staggered, his cigarette slipping from his grasp. ¡°Easy there, boy! I ain¡¯t as young as I used to be.¡±


    ¡°Father Melan! Richard sent me a letter,¡± Leonard declared, barely hearing the priest¡¯s protest. ¡°Magic is amazing!¡±


    The old priest chuckled, shaking his head at the boy¡¯s relentless enthusiasm. ¡°Is that so? Then I take it you can fire off a spell or two by now, huh?¡±


    Leonard¡¯s grin faltered. ¡°Mother says mages are rare. I told her I¡¯d train to be one like old man Simon, but she said that¡¯s different. I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    Father Melan sighed, scratching his beard. ¡°That¡¯s because old man Simon is a warrior who happened to learn magic later in life. His training didn¡¯t make him a mage.¡±


    Leonard groaned in frustration. ¡°Aww¡­¡±


    Seeing the boy deflate, guilt gnawed at the priest. He glanced toward the forest, then pointed at the massive tree towering above the rest.


    ¡°See that tree over there?¡±


    ¡°The Tree of Ancients?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the one,¡± Father Melan said with a knowing nod. ¡°Legend has it, a powerful being was sealed inside long ago.¡±


    Leonard¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Is he stronger than you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Stronger than the Hero?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡±


    ¡°What about the King?¡±


    ¡°Now hush, before someone lops off our heads for dishonoring royalty,¡± the priest chuckled nervously. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how strong he was. All you need to know is that if someone were to cut that tree down, the being inside would grant them any wish they desire.¡±


    ¡°Any wish?¡± Leonard¡¯s eyes sparkled with newfound wonder.


    ¡°Any wish,¡± Father Melan confirmed with a smirk.


    To the priest, it was nothing more than an old legend¡ªa story to ease a child¡¯s aching heart.


    But to Leonard, it became a goal.


    A goal that, fifteen years later, he was still chasing.

 The Tree of Ancients

    "This is the final one!" a man shouted, his voice echoing through the clearing as the great Mukbar tree groaned under its own weight. The sun, now dipping low in the sky, cast golden rays that danced on the sweat-slicked backs of the workers.


    ¡°Timber!!¡±


    With a thunderous crack, the massive tree gave way, crashing to the earth in a shower of splinters and dust. Birds scattered from the treetops, and the ground trembled beneath their feet.


    ¡°Good work today, Leonard,¡± the foreman called out, wiping the grime from his brow as he approached the younger man, who was leaning on his axe, catching his breath.


    Leonard straightened, offering a polite smile. He unfurled his black hair from the bandana he was wearing to keep away the sweat from his brow. His once wiry frame had filled out over the years, muscles hardened from labor and something else¡ªsomething the others couldn¡¯t quite place.


    ¡°Thanks, boss,¡± he replied simply, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead.


    ¡°Always the humble one,¡± the foreman chuckled, clapping him on the back with a hearty thud that nearly knocked Leonard forward. ¡°Say, why don¡¯t you just marry my daughter already? You¡¯re both of age, and you ain¡¯t getting any younger, lad.¡±


    From behind, an older man barked a laugh and swatted the foreman¡¯s backside with a thick leather glove. ¡°Oh, lay off him, will ya? Young folk pick their own time for marrying now. Ain¡¯t like when we were pups, betrothed by age fifteen and miserable till death.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± another chimed in, loosening his work belt and plopping onto a nearby stump. ¡°The Tribunal of Magic was a godsend if you ask me. Who would¡¯ve thought that decent food and clean water would let folks live longer? Now we get to nag the young¡¯uns a good twenty years longer than our fathers did!¡±


    Laughter rippled through the group.


    ¡°Right?¡± one of them said, snapping his fingers as if a thought just struck him. He turned to Leonard with a curious squint. ¡°Say, wasn¡¯t your brother part of that whole Tribunal mess? What do they call ¡®em¡ªofficial magi or somethin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! I remember now,¡± another added, perking up. ¡°He married that rich girl, didn¡¯t he? Way back¡ªwhat¡ªfifteen years ago? All ¡®cause he could use magic, right? How¡¯s he doin¡¯ these days?¡±


    Leonard busied himself sheathing his axe, buying a moment before answering. He glanced up at them with an easy smile. ¡°He¡¯s well,¡± he said, tightening the straps on his pack. ¡°Sent me a letter, actually. Says he¡¯s expecting another kid.¡±


    A round of whistles and claps broke out at that.


    ¡°Well, would you look at that! Congrats to him¡ªand to you, Uncle Leonard!¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Leonard replied, though there was a note of tired amusement in his voice.


    The foreman squinted at him, smirking. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll be settlin¡¯ down like him anytime soon, eh?¡±


    Leonard slung his pack over his shoulder, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. ¡°Not today, boss. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, gentlemen.¡± He gave them a playful salute before turning down the well-trodden path leading away from the lumberyard.


    The group watched him go, the banter quieting as his figure receded into the trees.


    ¡°Where d¡¯you reckon he¡¯s always runnin¡¯ off to?¡± one of the younger men asked, tilting his head.


    The others shrugged.


    ¡°Dunno,¡± muttered one. ¡°Always headin¡¯ deeper into the woods¡ªand comes back lookin¡¯ like he fought a bear, or worse.¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t forget the meat!¡± another added. ¡°Mayor¡¯s cold chest is always packed full when he comes back. Real meat, too. None of that salted junk we get from the peddlers.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± a wiry man said, leaning in as if to share a secret. ¡°And no one¡¯s seen him huntin¡¯. No traps. No bow. He just vanishes into the forest and returns with more meat than a man should be able to carry.¡±


    ¡°Well, boys,¡± Delan, the foreman, said, a smug grin curling on his lips. He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. ¡°We might not have to wonder much longer.¡±


    The others turned to him, raising brows.


    ¡°Delan, what¡¯re you talkin¡¯ about?¡±


    The foreman simply chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡±


    And with that cryptic remark, he turned back toward the path home, leaving the others murmuring in speculation.


    ________________________________________________________________


    On the other side of the forest, a young woman strode with determination, expertly dodging another gnarled root that writhed just above the forest floor ¡ª a hungry trap for any careless wanderer. She shot it a scowl, using the handle of her basket to shove it aside as she pressed on.


    The basket swung gently from her arm, filled to the brim with sweet cakes, cured meats, and spiced bread, the sort of offerings that would make any man weak in the knees ¡ª or so she hoped.


    "Damn, how deep did he go?" Samantha muttered to herself, tucking a strand of brunette hair behind her ear as she carefully sidestepped a thorny vine that snapped at her heels. She was beginning to regret wearing her finer dress for this little adventure.


    A sharp hiss to her right caught her attention ¡ª a bulbous predatory plant, its leafy maw snapping open and shut in hopes of snatching a bite from her basket.


    "Oh no you don¡¯t," she growled, swatting the plant¡¯s mouth closed with practiced ease. ¡°This is for Leonard, not you.¡±


    Samantha, daughter of Delan the foreman and self-proclaimed most eligible bachelorette of Telones, was not a woman to be deterred by hungry plants or wandering roots. Not when her prize was Leonard Expatri.


    Still, even her tenacity was wearing thin. Hours had passed since she ventured into the deeper reaches of the woods, and though the forest had quieted some, her arms were aching, her feet sore, and her resolve stretched thin.


    But that was when she heard it ¡ª a steady, rhythmic thwack, like steel biting into wood.


    Her eyes narrowed, a smile tugging at her lips. "Gotcha," she whispered.


    With renewed energy, she pressed toward the sound, slipping through brambles and thick brush until she reached the end of the thicket.


    What she saw made her breath catch in her throat.


    There it was ¡ª The Tree of Ancients. The most massive tree in all of Telones, towering like a mountain with roots as thick as houses. Its bark shimmered faintly, as though the tree itself were alive with old magic. But what stole her attention were the deep gashes carved into its trunk ¡ª countless marks where blades had sunk into its wood and where the tree had tried, in vain, to heal itself.


    And there, standing before it, axe in hand, was Leonard.


    He looked... different.


    His shirt clung to him, soaked through with sweat, and every muscle in his arms and back tensed as he raised the axe high and brought it down with a crack, splitting bark and wood. His eyes burned with a focus so intense it made her hesitate. This wasn¡¯t the quiet, humble man she bantered with in town ¡ª this was someone fighting a war of his own.


    She took a step forward, ready to call out to him, to offer the basket and her brightest smile ¡ª but stopped when he paused, panting, and set the axe down beside him.


    He pulled a canteen from his belt, taking a long drink before fishing something from his pocket. A letter.


    Samantha''s brows knit together as she watched him unfold the paper, his hands trembling just slightly. His eyes scanned the words with a look that made her chest ache ¡ª a look filled with sadness and determination.


    She opened her mouth to say something, anything ¡ª but the moment felt too heavy to break.


    After a long moment, Leonard folded the letter, setting it gently on a nearby rock as if it were something precious. Then, with a final swig from his canteen, he gripped his axe once more and began to swing again.


    Samantha crept closer, curiosity gnawing at her. With Leonard¡¯s back turned, she reached for the letter, her fingers tracing the edges before unfolding it carefully.


    Her eyes darted across the page, reading quickly:


    <hr>


    "Dear Brother,


    I hope our family and Telones are doing well. Know that I miss you, Mom, and Dad daily.


    I''m blessed with another child. A son this time! I just wish that I¡¯ll have the time to get to know him.


    This damn war with the North is making all the nobles mobilize ¡ª and that includes me.


    But don¡¯t worry though! As you know, I¡¯m super strong. I¡¯ll see you soon enough when Mercie and I visit you again.


    Love, Richard."


    <hr>


    Samantha blinked at the words, her heart twisting.


    ¡°Damn idiot,¡± Leonard muttered behind her, startling her enough that she nearly dropped the paper. She turned, but he hadn¡¯t noticed her yet ¡ª his axe resting against the tree, his eyes lost in thought.


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    ¡°How do you make war sound so easy?¡± he said bitterly, jaw tight. ¡°We both heard the old folks tell us how disgusting it was during the Great War... like it was yesterday.¡±


    Samantha swallowed hard, the basket suddenly heavy in her hands.


    She knew exactly what he meant. Her own grandfather had spoken often, and darkly, of those years. Of friends who never came back. Of fields turned to ash.


    Leonard ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, staring up at the tree with a look that made her chest ache even more.


    She wanted to say something ¡ª to call out to him, to offer comfort or even just her company ¡ª but the words stuck in her throat.


    So instead, she quietly folded the letter, setting it back where she had found it, and stepped away, the woods swallowing her presence.


    As she retreated, Leonard raised his axe again, and the sharp crack of metal against ancient wood echoed through the trees ¡ª a sound of defiance against something far larger than himself.


    However, the quiet exit Samantha had hoped for shattered in an instant when a pair of blazing red eyes glared at her from between the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. The eyes burned like embers in the gloom, locking her in place.


    Her breath caught in her throat, her hands tightening on the basket handle until her knuckles turned white.


    A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the clearing, vibrating in her chest. Slowly, with a creak of sinew and muscle, a massive beast emerged from the shadows ¡ª a bear, but far larger than any she had seen before. Its fur was matted with mud and old scars, and strange crimson veins pulsed just beneath the surface of its hide, glowing like molten cracks in stone.


    ¡°Wha¡­ what are you¡­¡± she whispered, unable to move.


    With a flash of movement too fast for its size, the bear lunged ¡ª a massive claw swiping out like a scythe to tear her in two.


    Samantha screamed and shut her eyes, bracing for the end.


    But the pain never came.


    Instead, she felt strong arms yank her back, pulling her flush against a sturdy chest. The next thing she heard was the sickening crunch of metal meeting bone ¡ª followed by the beast¡¯s roar of pain.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    The voice was low, calm yet sharp, like the eye of a storm.


    Samantha¡¯s eyes shot open to see Leonard, one arm wrapped protectively around her waist, his axe buried deep into the bear¡¯s front leg, severing it nearly to the bone. The beast staggered back, blood pouring down its limb.


    Leonard¡¯s gaze never left the bear, though his voice softened just for her. "Stay behind me."


    Her heart fluttered in her chest, her usual sharp wit failing her for once.


    ¡°Oh, my legs¡­ my legs gave out,¡± she mumbled weakly, her cheeks burning.


    Leonard gave her a glance, smirking slightly as he loosened his hold. "Funny, Sam. But you stand straighter than a Mukbar tree."


    She caught herself quickly and straightened up, adjusting her dress like she hadn¡¯t just been clinging to him like a frightened child.


    ¡°Stop playing, Sam,¡± he said firmly, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "We both know you¡¯re not that weak."


    ¡°Well, sorry for trying to be a proper lady for once,¡± she huffed, glaring at him ¡ª but her hands still trembled faintly.


    Leonard gave her a raised brow, amused even in the middle of danger. "Now why would you want that?"


    But neither had time for further banter.


    From the mist beyond the clearing, more pairs of red eyes blinked into existence, glowing like coals in the darkness.


    Three more bears lumbered out, each just as monstrous as the first, lips curled back in snarls that exposed jagged, yellow teeth. Their breath steamed in the cool air as they stalked forward, muscles rippling beneath corrupted fur.


    Samantha swallowed. "You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me..."


    Leonard''s face hardened, taking a defensive stance. "Stay behind me, and if I say run, run. Got it?"


    She gave a reluctant nod, clutching the handle of her basket as though it would offer some protection.


    The first bear, despite its wounded leg, let out a furious roar and charged, barreling toward Leonard like a freight train.


    Leonard sidestepped at the last second, raising his axe high and bringing it down with a wet crack against the beast¡¯s spine. The blow was powerful enough to stagger the creature, but not to fell it.


    "Damn, you''re a tough one," Leonard muttered, wrenching the axe free just as the second bear lunged.


    He spun to meet it, swinging his axe in a wide arc that caught the bear in the side of the head. Bone and flesh gave way with a spray of crimson, but the bear kept coming, driven by some unnatural force.


    Samantha could only watch, heart pounding, as Leonard fought like a man possessed. He moved with sharp precision, each step measured, every swing of the axe aiming for a vital point. But even he was starting to breathe harder, sweat pouring from his brow.


    The third bear let out a growl and lunged for Samantha, clearly deciding she was easier prey.


    ¡°Sam, move!¡± Leonard barked, but she was already ducking under a wild swipe of its claws. Her basket went flying, scattering pastries and meats across the forest floor.


    ¡°I was gonna give him those, you bastard!¡± she snapped, surprising herself.


    Leonard rushed to intercept, slamming the handle of his axe into the bear''s snout to knock it back.


    ¡°Behind me, now!¡±


    Samantha scrambled back, putting a thick tree trunk between herself and the raging creature.


    The wounded first bear charged again, and Leonard spun to meet it, planting a foot and hurling his axe like a spear ¡ª the blade sank deep into the beast''s throat, and this time, it finally dropped with a ground-shaking thud.


    No time to retrieve the axe.


    The third bear lunged again, and Leonard met it with only his fists and a broken branch he grabbed from the ground. He jammed the branch into its maw, using all his strength to keep the snapping jaws from closing around him.


    "Sam!" he grunted, struggling against the beast¡¯s weight. "Now would be a good time to show me those lady-like skills!"


    Samantha blinked, then glared. "You¡¯re gonna regret saying that!"


    She yanked a long knife from her boot ¡ª the kind her father always said a smart girl carried ¡ª and dashed forward. As the bear focused on Leonard, she drove the blade deep into its exposed side, right under the ribcage.


    The bear let out a choking roar, twisting in pain. Leonard took the chance to slam his elbow into its skull, knocking it to the ground.


    With a grunt, Leonard pulled his axe free from the fallen first bear and turned to the last one, now circling cautiously.


    ¡°Stay back, Sam,¡± he warned, blood trickling down his arm from a shallow scratch.


    ¡°Not a chance,¡± she shot back, gripping her bloodied knife tighter.


    Leonard smirked. "See? You were never really the ''proper lady'' type."


    The final bear stood there, muscles rippling under its corrupted fur, its crimson eyes glaring at them with raw, savage hunger. Foam dripped from its jaws as it let out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated in Samantha¡¯s chest.


    Leonard rolled his shoulder, adjusting his grip on the bloodied axe. "Alright," he muttered, half to himself, half to her. "Last one."


    Samantha swallowed but stood firm beside him, her knife glinting in the pale light that filtered through the trees. "You ready?"


    Leonard gave her a sideways glance, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I was about to ask you the same thing."


    The bear pawed the ground like a bull, its massive body coiling up, preparing to lunge.


    Then it charged.


    "Left!" Leonard barked, and both of them split to opposite sides, the bear charging straight between them.


    As it roared and turned to follow Samantha ¡ª the smaller, quicker target ¡ª Leonard rushed in from behind, burying his axe deep into the back of the bear¡¯s hind leg, severing tendons with a brutal crunch.


    The beast howled in fury, turning on him, snapping its massive jaws.


    "Leonard, duck!" Samantha shouted.


    Without hesitation, Leonard dropped to a knee as Samantha leapt over him, using his shoulder as a springboard to launch herself right at the bear''s head ¡ª knife raised high.


    With a snarl of determination, she plunged the blade into the bear''s glowing eye, driving it in to the hilt.


    The bear screamed in pain, rearing back on its haunches, thrashing wildly ¡ª but it was already over.


    Leonard was waiting.


    As the beast raised itself high, exposing its chest, Leonard surged forward with a roar of his own, swinging his axe in a brutal upward arc, cleaving straight through its gut and into its heart.


    The bear shuddered, its massive body swaying ¡ª then, with a final, wet gurgle, it collapsed to the forest floor with a thunderous crash, shaking the ground beneath them.


    Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by their ragged breathing.


    Samantha still stood where she had landed, chest heaving, eyes wide but alight with adrenaline. She wiped her blade on the grass, trying to seem casual despite the wild thumping of her heart.


    Leonard straightened slowly, yanking his axe free from the beast¡¯s corpse. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "You alright?"


    She gave him a shaky grin. "Yeah... yeah, I¡¯m good."


    He snorted, but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. "You fight like a wildcat. Where''d you learn that?"


    Samantha grinned, sheathing her knife. "Maybe I picked up a thing or two when you weren''t looking."


    Leonard shook his head, smirking as he wiped the blood off his axe. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."


    "You¡¯d never survive," she shot back, tossing her hair over her shoulder ¡ª though her knees were still weak.


    As the last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, casting golden light over the now-quiet clearing, Leonard stared at the wounded Tree of Ancients. His face grew solemn, the weight of unseen burdens pressing on his shoulders.


    Beside him, Samantha followed his gaze in silence.


    "Thanks," Leonard murmured, his voice quieter now. "You should get out of here¡ªbefore more of those things show up."


    "But what about you?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "You¡¯re hurt! You need a witch doctor."


    Leonard just shook his head. With effort, he knelt by one of the fallen bears and yanked a bright purple stone from deep within its chest. The stone pulsed faintly in his hand, radiating a strange light.


    "I need to finish up here," he said, though his words were strained with pain.


    Samantha watched in stunned silence as Leonard walked to the massive scar along the Tree of Ancients and pressed the stone into the wounded bark. Then, with a sharp breath, he swung his axe ¡ª and as the blade struck the stone, a ripple of force exploded through the tree, tearing away a massive chunk as if an invisible blast had detonated from within.


    Samantha flinched at the sound. "What the hell¡­?" she whispered, eyes wide.


    Leonard chuckled, though it was tired and hollow. "Pretty, isn''t it? I found them when I started cutting this thing¡­ from the beasts that kept coming after me."


    "You¡¯ve been doing this for years?" she asked, putting pieces together in her mind.


    "Fifteen," he admitted, wiping sweat from his brow.


    "Fifteen years," she repeated softly, then gave a small smile. "I thought so."


    Leonard blinked at her. "How¡¯d you figure that out?"


    "Let¡¯s just say¡­ my eyes were on you for a long time. Since we were kids. And it just so happens that fifteen years ago, you started working under my dad and disappearing into these woods every day."


    Leonard paused at that, searching her expression ¡ª but said nothing. Instead, he reached for a second stone, planting it deep into another fissure in the bark. He swung again, and another violent crack tore through the ancient tree, its groans echoing like an old creature in pain.


    "I¡¯m close," Leonard muttered, though his arms shook and sweat poured down his face. His grip on the axe was weakening, but still, he refused to let go. "Just¡­ one more hit."


    He reached for a third stone ¡ª larger, darker than the others ¡ª and readied himself for the final strike.


    But before he could move, Samantha¡¯s hand shot out, gripping his wrist firmly.


    "If you swing like that, your arm''s coming off along with that axe," she said sharply, her eyes locking onto his.


    Leonard frowned, caught off guard.


    "Here," she continued, softening, as she tore a long strip of fabric from her skirt. "Widen your stance, hold the axe right." She bound the handle to his hands, tightening it to keep it steady. "There. Now it won¡¯t slip."


    Leonard looked at her, a flicker of gratitude breaking through his exhaustion. He gave a weak nod.


    With a deep, bracing breath, he lifted the axe one final time, feet planted firm ¡ª and brought it crashing down onto the last stone.


    The impact sent a deafening roar through the woods, a sound so immense it echoed all the way back to Telones, rattling the very ground beneath them.


    The Tree of Ancients shuddered violently, splinters flying as its ancient body gave way, and for a moment, everything stood still in the fading light of day.

 A Consequence From Hundreds of Years Past

    ¡°He¡¯s still not awake?¡± a man asked among the pack of onlookers surrounding Leonard Exparti¡¯s home.


    Just a normal occurrence in a small town that has chicken fights as its main choice of entertainment.


    ¡°No! And It¡¯s been three days!¡±


    ¡°What the hell happened? The Tree of Ancients is gone ¡ª and bam, he¡¯s out cold!¡±


    ¡°Delani! Did your daughter say anything?¡±


    Delani¡¯s eyes darted away as he cleared his throat and shuffled off with surprising speed for a man his age.


    ¡°Hey! Get back here, you coward!¡± a chorus of men bellowed, giving chase like a pack of rowdy schoolboys.


    Inside the Expatri home, tension hummed like a storm about to break. Leonard, pale and groggy, sat slumped on a low couch, his mother Maria pacing nearby while his father Yosephus sat rigid, hands clasped in his lap.


    At the center of the room, a lone staff hovered, slowly spinning in place, shedding a pale, silver glow that threw shadows on the walls.


    ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living, son,¡± Yosephus said, voice calm but threaded with tightly wound worry.


    Leonard rubbed his temples. ¡°Thanks, Dad,¡± he croaked, throat raw like he hadn¡¯t spoken in days ¡ª which, of course, he hadn¡¯t.


    Yosephus nodded toward the staff, his brow furrowed deep. ¡°We¡¯ve¡­ tried to ignore that thing for three days now.¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t take it anymore!¡± Maria snapped, whirling to face Leonard, her hands flying up in exasperation. ¡°I tried to move it when I was cleaning, and you know what it did? It scooted just enough for me to sweep under it¡ªthen floated right back! What am I? Its maid?¡±


    Yosephus reached to gently rub her shoulder, but Maria huffed and folded her arms tight.


    Leonard blinked at the staff, then let his gaze slide sideways ¡ª to the handsome young man lounging casually in the far corner, sipping tea like none of this chaos concerned him.


    ¡°They can¡¯t see me,¡± the man said smoothly, raising his cup. ¡°Or hear me. No magic, no spiritual eyes. So, good luck, lumberjack.¡±


    Leonard¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°Great.¡±


    Maria was watching him closely now, like a hawk eyeing prey. ¡°Leonard? Are you talking to someone?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± He straightened, trying to focus. ¡°So¡­ remember how I was working on the Tree of Ancients?¡±


    Maria¡¯s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. ¡°You mean three days ago? When Sam told us you were destroying it?¡±


    Leonard winced, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Not destroying. More like¡­ proving myself. To get something.¡±


    ¡°Nearly killing yourself in the process!¡± Maria shot back.


    ¡°Honey,¡± Yosephus warned gently, but she was already pacing again, arms flailing in frustration.


    Leonard drew in a slow breath and shot a glare at the smirking man in the corner, who gave him an exaggerated wink.


    ¡°You know Father Melan? The priest before Father Shiloh?¡±


    Both parents exchanged glances, nodding.


    ¡°He told me a legend. About a powerful being sealed in the Tree. Said whoever cuts it down gets a wish.¡±


    Leonard gestured toward the man. ¡°I did my part. Still waiting on the wish.¡±


    Maria crossed her arms. ¡°A ¡®powerful being¡¯? Leonard, you know what happens when you make deals with spirits ¡ª it''s slavery.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what he is yet,¡± Leonard muttered, avoiding her gaze. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing I¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡±


    The man raised his teacup in a mock toast. ¡°Call me what you like. I¡¯m here for you.¡±


    Leonard groaned. ¡°Not helping.¡±


    Maria whirled on him. ¡°Fine. Then what does he want? And what¡¯s with that?¡± She jabbed a finger at the glowing staff.


    Before Leonard could answer, the staff let out a low, vibrating hum, its glow intensifying, shadows leaping like wild things.


    ¡°Leonard?¡± Maria whispered, now standing half behind Yosephus, who instinctively reached for a sword that wasn¡¯t there.


    The staff pulsed once. Then twice.


    With a sharp whirring sound, it zipped across the room, stopping an inch from Leonard¡¯s chest.


    The man in the corner grinned wide. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s time, lumberjack.¡±


    Leonard glared at him. ¡°Time for what?¡±


    Before he could get an answer, a loud knock rattled the door, making them all jump.


    Yosephus stood, frowning deeply. ¡°Nosy neighbors again?¡±


    But as he opened the door, it wasn¡¯t a neighbor. It was Samantha, pale, panting, her clothes rumpled, hair stuck to her face.


    ¡°Leonard,¡± she gasped, barely able to speak. ¡°He¡¯s coming for you.¡±


    Maria¡¯s face went white. ¡°Who¡¯s coming?¡±


    ¡°Me,¡± a calm voice answered ¡ª from inside the house.


    Everyone spun around in shock.


    There, standing casually near the mantel as though he owned the place, was a well-groomed man in his mid-thirties, dressed in the unmistakable red, black, and gold of Param¡¯s Tribunal of Magic. Five gleaming stars adorned his epaulet ¡ª a mark of dangerously high rank and a crest on his chest depicting dark fires consuming a heart.


    Yosephus was the first to react, stepping forward without hesitation, planting himself firmly between the stranger and his family. ¡°Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?¡±


    The man gave a polite nod, hands folded loosely behind his back. ¡°Wesley Valentine, Tribunal of Magic.¡± He let that hang in the air a moment before adding with a smirk, ¡°And before anyone panics¡ª¡± He flicked his fingers, and with a small pop of light and air, an elegant tray of flowers and sweet treats appeared on the table. ¡°I come in peace. I just need to talk to your son before the rest of the Tribunal¡¯s hounds start sniffing around.¡±


    Maria¡¯s lips parted in sharp retort. ¡°Why¡ª¡±


    But Wesley cut her off with a raised hand, sharp as a dagger. ¡°No time, ma¡¯am.¡±


    From the corner, the apparition sipped his tea with an infuriating smirk. ¡°You better hear him out, lumberjack,¡± he said lazily.


    Leonard exhaled a long breath and stepped forward. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mom. Let¡¯s¡­ talk in my room.¡±


    As Wesley and Leonard headed toward the back of the house, Wesley glanced over his shoulder and jerked his chin at Samantha. ¡°You too. Come on.¡±


    A gentle, unseen force tugged her forward. She stumbled slightly, shooting Leonard a helpless look before trailing after them. The staff zipped through before the door swung shut behind them with a soft but final click.


    Inside Leonard¡¯s room, Wesley reached into his coat for a cigarette, then paused as his eyes swept over the pair. With a sigh, he tucked it back away.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he muttered, voice softer now but tinged with the weight of something heavy. ¡°No sense dancing around this.¡±


    Leonard planted himself at the edge of his bed, brow furrowed. ¡°Sir, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Wesley glanced toward the apparition, now sprawled across Leonard¡¯s pillows like a king surveying his court. The air seemed to thicken.


    ¡°A major screw-up,¡± Wesley said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ¡°One that¡¯s been waiting to explode for¡­ oh, a couple hundred years.¡±


    He turned to the apparition, voice darkening. ¡°Tell me, old friend, you recognize the blood running through me, don¡¯t you?¡±


    He tilted his head, studying Wesley with a slight, amused curve to his mouth. ¡°Of course. How could I forget? You¡¯re a descendant of the White Wolf himself ¡ª Barthold Valentine.¡±


    Wesley gave a humorless chuckle. ¡°Yeah. He told us family stories that we thought were just that ¡ª stories ¡ª until three days ago when this thing¡ª¡± He raised a hand to show them a silver ring on his finger, pulsing faintly with soft, otherworldly light, ¡°¡ªlit up like the sun itself chose to descend.¡±


    Leonard blinked, looking between them, completely at sea. ¡°Okay, hold on. What? Sam, you following any of this?¡±


    ¡°Not a clue,¡± Samantha said tightly, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.


    The apparition yawned, reclining deeper into the pillows. ¡°Oh, indulge them, Valentine. They¡¯re practically children.¡±


    Wesley snorted and gave a half-bow, full of sharp sarcasm. ¡°Lady and gentleman, allow me to properly introduce your new houseguest. Byron Meyer. The Bloody War Mage of the Age of Giants.¡±


    Byron sat up slightly, as if expecting awe ¡ª or at least a gasp.


    Instead, Leonard and Samantha exchanged blank stares.


    ¡°¡­Who?¡±


    Byron¡¯s eye twitched.


    Wesley grinned, clearly enjoying himself. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what you get for shacking up with fairies, you idiot.¡±


    Byron scoffed. ¡°Now, wait just a moment¡ª¡±


    Wesley cut him off with a glint in his eye. ¡°You¡¯ve been erased, Meyer. Your fairy girlfriend didn¡¯t just hide you in that tree ¡ª she made sure the world forgot you existed. Scrubbed clean. Paid off witnesses, silenced comrades, rewrote records. By the time my great-great-grandfather was born, you were just a ghost story. Only the Vanguard Families ¡ª mine included ¡ª kept whispers of your name thanks to your wife. She still held hope that you¡¯d come back one day to get spanked by the kingdom.¡±


    Byron sat up straighter, color draining from his face. ¡°But¡­ but my comrades¡­ my legacy¡ª¡±


    ¡°Gone,¡± Wesley said flatly. ¡°All gone.¡±


    Leonard and Samantha both turned to look at Byron with a new, more wary light.


    ¡°Hey¡ªlook¡ª¡± Byron raised his hands quickly, palms open. ¡°It¡¯s not what you think! I wasn¡¯t¡ª It¡¯s complicated, alright? I had my reasons!¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Wesley muttered. ¡°Maybe you did. But now that you¡¯re back, guess what?¡± He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a grim note. ¡°The other Vanguard Families are now preparing to whip you.¡±


    As if to punctuate his words, the room shuddered, walls distorting like ripples in water, furniture groaning and warping under unseen pressure.


    Leonard jumped to his feet, heart pounding. ¡°Our house!¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Wesley said with a smirk, casually adjusting his collar. ¡°We¡¯re in a barrier ¡ª a parallel space. Your real house is fine.¡±


    Before Leonard could demand an explanation, a cold, sharp voice sliced through the air:


    ¡°Master! As a representative of House Valentine, how dare you consort with history¡¯s vilest criminal?¡±


    From the swirling chaos, a silver-haired woman stepped forward, eyes sharp as daggers, her posture rigid. Her uniform matched Wesley¡¯s in color and cut, but a different crest gleamed proudly on her chest ¡ª a stylized silver hawk in flight.


    Wesley groaned quietly, muttering under his breath, ¡°Speak of the devil¡­¡±


    The woman¡¯s gaze swept over the room, landing on Leonard and Samantha with razor-sharp scrutiny before snapping back to Wesley.


    ¡°Explain yourself,¡± she demanded, voice like ice cracking. ¡°Or so help me, I¡¯ll see you stripped of every star on your shoulder before nightfall.¡±


    Wesley rubbed his temples, glancing sidelong at Leonard. ¡°Told you. Hounds.¡±


    Then his eyes turned to the newcomer just as quickly. ¡°Mara, my lovely student,¡± Wesley greeted smoothly, as if they were old friends meeting for tea. ¡°How are you?¡±


    Mara¡¯s silver eyes sharpened into slits. ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®how are you¡¯ me, you useless adult!¡± she snapped, stomping a step closer. ¡°What are you even doing here? The other heads of the Vanguard Families were summoned by the Great Lion himself to discuss Meyer¡¯s return!¡±


    Wesley rolled his shoulders, utterly unfazed. ¡°Relax. I¡¯m here on family business.¡± He waved a hand lazily toward Byron, who sat very still, watching the exchange carefully. ¡°You know... that old promise made by the first White Wolf to our dear Lord Meyer over there.¡± He smirked. ¡°To give him a fate worse than death when he showed his pretty face again.¡±


    Byron clicked his tongue, muttering under his breath, ¡°Damn Barthold...¡±


    Mara folded her arms, glaring daggers at Wesley. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what the Vanguard Families agreed to, as per Miranda Meyer¡¯s request? To neutralize him if he ever returned?¡±


    Wesley chuckled, rubbing his chin as though she were a child arguing bedtime. ¡°Oh, Mara, Mara...¡± he sighed dramatically. ¡°You don¡¯t have many friends, do you, young lady?¡±


    Her face flushed a brilliant red. ¡°I¡ª I so do!¡± she barked, stomping her foot like an indignant cat.


    Wesley grinned knowingly, then turned to Leonard with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.


    ¡°Kid,¡± he said lightly, ¡°hold onto that staff for me, will you?¡±


    Leonard hesitated, glancing at Byron, but curiosity got the better of him. He reached out and gripped the strange, rune-etched staff that tried to pull away from him in protest. It pulsed faintly under his fingers like a living thing.


    ¡°You see, Mara,¡± Wesley began, turning back to her with a faux professor¡¯s tone, ¡°real friends? Real friends don¡¯t let you get away with stupid decisions. Like, oh, I don¡¯t know¡ªcheating on your wife, or begging a fairy to clean up your mess.¡±


    Byron shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the floor.


    ¡°No, no.¡± Wesley smirked. ¡°Real friends? They¡¯ll make damn sure your life is inconvenient, or at least hilariously embarrassing for pulling stunts like that.¡±


    Mara¡¯s eyes narrowed, sharp and suspicious. ¡°Master Valentine¡­ what are you planning?¡±


    Wesley turned to Leonard again, his eyes practically sparkling now. ¡°Alright, kid. You ready?¡±


    Leonard gave him a wary glance. ¡°For what, exactly?¡±


    Wesley¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Just trust me. Chant this word like your life depends on it: Ligare.¡±


    Mara paled. ¡°No.¡± Her voice dropped sharp, slicing the air. ¡°That spell¡ª¡±


    But Leonard, though confused, took a breath and said it firmly: ¡°Ligare.¡±


    The word rolled out with a weight he didn¡¯t understand.


    In an instant, the staff flared with blinding light¡ªthen blinked out of existence.


    The room was swallowed in stunned silence.


    Byron¡¯s mouth hung open, staring at the empty space where the staff had been.


    Mara¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°You¡ª you didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Wesley casually dusted off his coat, looking as though this was all perfectly routine.


    ¡°Congratulations, kid,¡± he said with an amused nod. ¡°You¡¯re now a magician.¡±


    Leonard blinked. ¡°I¡­ what?¡±


    Samantha, frozen beside him, let out a long breath. ¡°Did¡­ did that actually just happen?¡±


    Mara spun toward Wesley, her composure shattered. ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯ve done?! Ligare isn¡¯t just some training spell ¡ª it¡¯s a binding, an oath! You¡¯ve tied him to¡ª¡±


    ¡°To the kid,¡± Wesley cut in smoothly, raising a finger. ¡°Not to me. Not to any of you hotshots looking to siphon him dry. To the kid. The insignificant bumpkin who could barely pronounce the spell a second ago.¡±


    Mara trembled, her hands clenched into fists. ¡°You¡¯ve doomed an innocent man...¡±


    Wesley gave a sharp grin. ¡°Well, well, well, look who¡¯s being hasty. Why do you assume I¡¯d just hand him over to you snotty magical bourgeoisie to be slaughtered, huh?¡±


    Byron, still wide-eyed, slowly started to grin. ¡°Oh... well played, Valentine. Well played.¡±


    Leonard swallowed, glancing at his empty hands, a strange tingling still running through his arms like the buzz of static.


    ¡°Wait¡­ so¡­ I can actually do magic now?¡± His voice was soft, like saying it too loud would break reality.


    Wesley clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Not just magic, kid. Reality-bending, kingdom-destroying magic. If you survive the learning curve, of course.¡±


    Mara glared between them, realization dawning fast and furious. ¡°This has been the Valentine family''s plan all along?¡±


    Wesley¡¯s smirk only deepened. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s mine.¡± He leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. ¡°We¡¯ve been cooking up the best way to prank this old crone for generations. I just didn¡¯t expect fate to give me the ultimate opportunity.¡±


    Leonard¡¯s heart pounded in his ears. ¡°Wait, all of this... just for a prank?¡±


    ¡°It is what it is, lumberjack. That¡¯s Barthold for you,¡± Byron said, his grin sharp as a blade. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re stuck with each other now. And trust me¡ªthings are gonna get chaotic.¡±

 On The Road At Last

    The last time Leonard Exparti saw a carriage, his brother was leaving Telones to marry a noble. Now, he was riding in one.


    The clatter of wheels, the rhythmic clop of hooves, and the cool mid-day air drifting through the open window filled the quiet between his thoughts.


    "Finally, Sam, I did it," Leonard murmured, leaning back against the seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the window frame. "Fifteen years of chopping that tree, and now I¡¯m headed for Mistra. I¡¯m one step closer to seeing my brother again."


    "That¡¯s great, Leo. And I am happy for you," Samantha replied, though there was a dry edge to her words. Her arms were crossed, and she shot him a sidelong glance. "But tell me¡ªwhy am I stuck in a carriage between two overly competitive idiots?"


    "Hey, you cheater!" Mara barked as another one of her glowing pieces on the floating magic board burst into a cloud of bright sparks.


    "This is a magic projection, young lady," Wesley replied smoothly, lounging across his seat with a smirk that practically oozed satisfaction. "Literally impossible to cheat. Just admit you¡¯re not as good as you say you are."


    ¡°Agh! Whatever!¡± Mara huffed, flicking her hand to dismiss the game, the pieces dissolving into thin air. She slumped against the wall, arms folded tight.


    Wesley chuckled as he pulled a cigarette from his coat, striking it alight with a lazy flick of his finger. The flame danced at his fingertip before it caught, and he blew out a long, slow stream of smoke through the window.


    Leonard shrugged at Samantha¡¯s earlier question but said nothing.


    Samantha, clearly not satisfied, leaned forward to address Wesley directly. ¡°Sir, what am I doing here? I¡¯m not part of this mess.¡±


    Wesley took another drag, exhaling as though her question barely warranted the effort to answer. ¡°Necessity,¡± he said simply, flicking ash out the window.


    ¡°Necessity?¡± Samantha frowned.


    ¡°Knowledge of Byron Meyers is a top political secret,¡± Mara cut in, her voice sharper now, as though she was shifting into "official" mode. ¡°If Wesley Valentine here decided to withdraw his protection, you and your boyfriend over there would¡¯ve been dead before morning.¡±


    Samantha¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Do we really look like a couple?¡± she asked, her voice somewhere between outrage and embarrassment.


    ¡°Wrong detail to focus on,¡± Mara muttered, massaging her temples.


    Leonard laughed awkwardly. ¡°That¡¯s right, Sam. We should probably be asking how Sir Valentine here plans to protect us from every mage in the Tribunal if they decide we¡¯re too much trouble to keep around.¡± He turned toward Mara, eyebrows raised. ¡°So, just how strong is he?¡±


    Mara shot Wesley a sideways glance, as if weighing how much to say, then snorted. ¡°Ridiculously so. If the Valentine clan weren¡¯t all free-spirited oddballs, they¡¯d be the ones running the Tribunal, not the Assis family.¡±


    ¡°You give us way too much credit, kid,¡± Wesley said with a chuckle, waving off her words with a lazy hand. ¡°We just love magic, is all. And when you really love magic¡­¡± He leaned forward slightly, cigarette glowing at the end, a sharp gleam in his eye. ¡°Magic tends to love you back.¡±


    ¡°Only a genius would suggest that,¡± Mara muttered, but there wasn¡¯t as much venom in her voice this time¡ªmore like reluctant admiration.


    Leonard glanced out the window again, the wind tousling his hair, his thoughts a storm of excitement and worry. "So what¡¯s waiting for us in Mistra?" he asked quietly.


    Wesley leaned back with a satisfied grin. ¡°Trouble, most likely,¡± he said, as if the idea entertained him more than it should.


    The carriage marched on, and eventually, evening descended in a haze of violet and rust-colored skies. The wind grew colder, biting at exposed skin, and the forest around them thickened, dark silhouettes swaying with the breeze.


    ¡°We¡¯ll stop here. Time to set up camp,¡± the driver called from the front, tugging the reins to slow the horses.


    The wheels groaned as they came to a halt. Mara was the first to hop out, stretching her arms with a loud yawn. Wesley lazily followed, cigarette still dangling between his lips, already inspecting the treeline like he was expecting trouble.


    Samantha lingered inside, arms crossed as she glared at nothing in particular, her brow furrowed in thought. Leonard glanced at her before sighing and stepping out.


    ¡°You coming, Sam?¡± he asked over his shoulder.


    She hesitated, then sighed and stood, brushing off her coat as she stepped down after him. The others were busy ¡ª Mara trying to start a fire, Wesley giving orders to the driver ¡ª and soon enough, it felt like just the two of them, standing by the edge of the camp as the last rays of sunlight slipped below the horizon.


    For a while, they said nothing, watching as the others worked. Finally, Samantha broke the silence.


    "I still don¡¯t get why you¡¯re so calm about all this," she said quietly, arms still wrapped around herself as if bracing against more than the cold.


    Leonard gave a soft chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t know if calm is the word I¡¯d use.¡±


    She glanced at him, unconvinced.


    He sat on a nearby rock, picking up a twig and idly turning it in his hands. ¡°I guess when you spend your whole life thinking you¡¯ll never amount to anything, and then someone comes along and says you might be important¡ª" He paused, tossing the twig aside. "You start to believe them. Even if it¡¯s dangerous."


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Samantha sat beside him, quiet for a moment.


    "Important is one thing," she said eventually. "But now we¡¯re in this. Magic, Tribunal politics, whatever Byron Meyers is... You¡¯re not scared?"


    Leonard looked up at the sky, watching as the stars began to poke through the darkening clouds.


    "Every minute," he admitted softly. "But... I don¡¯t know. I keep thinking about my brother. About how he¡¯s taken care of our family. How he¡¯s risking his life right now. Maybe this is my chance to help him out for once."


    Samantha was quiet again, chewing on his words like she wanted to argue but couldn''t.


    "...I just don¡¯t want to lose you, Leo," she said, her voice barely a whisper.


    Leonard blinked, surprised by her sudden vulnerability.


    "You know, I always thought if anyone was going to get out of Telones after my brother, it¡¯d be you, Sam," he said, smiling faintly. "You''re the smart one. The one who sees through all the crap. Me? I¡¯ve been swinging an axe at the same tree for fifteen years."


    She huffed a breath that could have been a laugh or a sigh.


    "Maybe," she said. "But I never wanted to do it alone."


    Leonard turned to her, smiling a little more earnestly. "Well, hopefully I¡¯m good enough for company. You¡¯re stuck with me for now after all."


    "Are you doing this on purpose or what?" she murmured, glancing away, but there was a faint smile on her lips too.


    The shadows stretched long as the campfire crackled to life. The others laughed and argued in the background, but Byron sat alone in the darkened carriage, unseen. Watching. Listening.


    A voice broke the quiet.


    "Hey, Lord Meyers, feeling comfortable?" Wesley said, leaning casually against the carriage doorframe, a smirk playing at his lips. ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet the whole ride.¡±


    Byron didn¡¯t move, but his eyes glinted from within the darkness. "Just dandy," he replied. "Free after centuries, now bound to a boy."


    "You don''t sound as displeased as I expected," Wesley noted, tilting his head.


    Byron''s gaze flicked toward Leonard, who sat laughing with Samantha by the fire. For a moment, something like memory¡ªor regret¡ªflashed behind his eyes.


    "Maybe if it were any other kid," Byron murmured, almost too soft to hear.


    Wesley raised a brow, but before he could prod further, Byron added, "Anyway, are you going to tell them about the mages in the trees?"


    Wesley¡¯s smirk faded, just a little. "Ah, so you sense them too, huh?"


    "Of course I sense them. Are you nuts?" Byron said, now fixing Wesley with a sharp look. "Why aren¡¯t they concealing their mana?"


    Wesley blew out a long breath, glancing out toward the woods. "Decorum."


    Byron snorted. "Centuries without war have made mages lax, it seems."


    Before Wesley could reply, the night snapped open ¡ª a sound like a tree branch breaking right over their heads.


    ¡ªBut it wasn¡¯t wood.


    A lance of lightning tore from the treeline, hissing straight toward the campfire.


    "Leo, move!" Samantha barked, yanking Leonard backward by his collar. He stumbled behind her just as the bolt shot through where he¡¯d been standing ¡ª


    ¡ªonly to halt midair, caught in a sudden net of glowing golden threads. The lightning hissed, writhing, before folding in on itself and vanishing with a crackle.


    Leonard hit the ground hard, gasping.


    Wesley stood nearby, fingers raised lazily as if plucking something from the air.


    "First rule of magic, kid," Wesley said, not even glancing at him. "A spell¡¯s only as dangerous as the idiot who casts it."


    Before Leonard could even blink, another attack screamed toward them ¡ª a flurry of razor-sharp ice shards, spinning like saw blades.


    "Mine," Mara said with a grin, already stepping forward.


    She snapped her fingers, and a barrier of crackling crimson energy flared up in front of them ¡ª the shards slammed against it and burst into clouds of steam.


    Leonard flinched, staring wide-eyed as the red glow died down.


    "Mind if I join in, Sir Valentine?" Mara called over her shoulder, smirking.


    "Be my guest," Wesley said, lighting another cigarette like they weren¡¯t under attack. "You could use the practice."


    Leonard scrambled to his feet, his hands shaking. "What the hell was that?"


    Samantha¡¯s hand landed firm on his shoulder, holding him steady ¡ª but her sharp eyes never left the trees. "Focus, Leo. One hit from any of that and we¡¯re dead meat!"


    "Y-yeah," he stammered.


    From beside the carriage, Byron leaned out lazily, watching it all unfold. "Second rule," he added, smirking, "If your enemy can see your spell coming, you¡¯re already losing."


    Leonard swallowed hard, glancing from Samantha¡¯s steady stance to Mara¡¯s glowing hands.


    Out in the dark, figures moved between the trees ¡ª cloaked mages, their staves lit with dim, swirling sigils.


    Mara rolled her shoulders, eyes glinting. "They¡¯re using their staves eh? First time I met someone who¡¯s really going for the kill."


    "You harbor the Bloody War Mage!" one of the figures snarled. "You break the Tribunal¡¯s oaths!"


    Leonard blinked. Byron?


    Wesley exhaled smoke, watching the woods like he was bored. "Yeah, yeah. Get in line."


    Then,casually glancing back at Leonard, "You wanna know how magic really works kid?" he said. "It¡¯s about understanding. The better you understand something ¡ª the weight of it, the sound, the way it bends ¡ª the more real it gets."


    Leonard blinked. "You mean you can just... know how to stop lightning and ice?"


    Wesley grinned around the cigarette. "If it¡¯s real enough to me, kid? It¡¯s real enough for the world."


    Leonard was still trying to process that when another spell shot from the woods ¡ª a twisting rope of black flame, snarling toward them.


    Mara stepped up, her grin sharp. But before she could do anything, Wesley raised a hand, almost lazily.


    "Enough."


    With a snap of his fingers, the earth shuddered.


    The ground split open with a sound like a mountain groaning. Roots tore free of the soil, snaking through the clearing and slamming toward the cloaked figures.


    The attackers barely had time to react before they were yanked off their feet, the black flame vanishing as they hit the ground hard.


    Leonard could only stare, his heart hammering.


    As the dust settled, Wesley strode forward, hands in his pockets like he was out for a walk.


    "You lot make a lotta noise for assassins," he called. "Suppose you wanna tell me who sent you before I get creative?"


    The cloaked leader struggled in the roots, eyes blazing. "You¡¯ll regret siding with the War Mage."


    Wesley grinned. "That¡¯s my favorite kind of regret."


    Behind them, Byron chuckled softly. But when Leonard¡¯s stunned eyes flicked toward him, Byron¡¯s smirk wavered for just a moment, something thoughtful passing over his face.


    Then it was gone, replaced with the usual sharp glint in his eye.

 Welcome to Mistra

    The chaos of the previous evening had faded. The would-be assassins had been dealt with, though how remained a mystery¡ªone Wesley Valentine refused to share, his only answer a childish, knowing grin. Now, Leonard found himself wholly absorbed by the breathtaking sight unfolding before them in the light of dawn.


    Mistra.


    Leonard stared, slack-jawed, from his seat atop the carriage, the cool morning breeze tugging at his collar. In all his life, he had never seen a city like this ¡ª never imagined such a place could truly exist outside of storybooks and the drunken ramblings of travelers passing through Telones.


    Nestled within the cradle of jagged mountains, Mistra rose like a monument to stone and steel, carved directly into the rocky shield that embraced it. The city was vast, its towering walls hewn from pale gray rock, worn smooth by time and yet still formidable. Atop those walls, rows of gleaming ballistae stood like sentinels, their dark silhouettes sharp against the rising sun, aimed outward at the world beyond.


    And beyond the city''s northern edge, rising high above everything, stood the three mighty peaks of the White Crown, their snowy caps sparkling as sunlight poured over them like rivers of molten gold. The sharp points of the peaks seemed to scrape at the sky itself, jagged white against a sea of brilliant blue.


    Leonard¡¯s eyes followed the way the sun caught on the ice and snow, glinting like shards of crystal. It was beautiful and harsh all at once, a reminder that nature and civilization here lived side by side ¡ª neither yielding to the other.


    From each side of Mistra, massive stone gates opened outward like the mouths of caves, wide enough for entire battalions to march through. Roads stretched out from them like veins, vanishing into the rolling hills and distant forests beyond. Caravans and soldiers moved in and out of those gates, tiny figures in the shadow of the city¡¯s walls, their movements orderly but hurried ¡ª as if Mistra itself were a living, breathing thing, always in motion.


    Even from this distance, Leonard could see the banners rippling on the high towers ¡ª the black and silver sigil of the Vanguard family, a sword crossed with a branch of laurel.


    He swallowed thickly.


    All of this ¡ª the walls, the weapons, the sheer scale ¡ª was too much for a man whose life had been shaped by rivers and forests, by the quiet murmur of water and the creak of wood in Telones. His world had been small, safe in its simplicity. This? This was the heart of power. The place where kings and warriors made their homes, where destinies were decided.


    ¡°The first time¡¯s always the best,¡± Wesley said, breaking Leonard out of his trance. His voice was casual, but there was a trace of nostalgia in his smile, like someone revisiting an old dream.


    Leonard blinked, realizing he¡¯d been standing at the window far longer than he thought.


    ¡°Are all cities like this?¡± Leonard asked, his voice quiet, almost reverent, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the vision before him.


    ¡°Hell no,¡± Mara cut in, glancing up briefly from where she sat cross-legged on one corner of the carriage, running a cloth over the length of her staff. ¡°This city''s been around since before the Great War. Nothing else like it. No city is as old or as fortified as this one.¡± She paused, giving the city a cursory glance, her eyes sharp and assessing even in admiration.


    ¡°Well, not counting that one city built inside a mountain,¡± Wesley added with a chuckle, leaning back against the wall, arms folded.


    ¡°True,¡± Mara admitted, smirking slightly before returning to her work, the soft scrape of cloth on wood punctuating the silence that followed.


    Leonard turned back to the window, taking in every detail once more.


    ¡°Samantha,¡± Leonard murmured, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, ¡°no one¡¯s gonna believe us when we get home.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± she said softly, her gaze never leaving the view. There was a faraway look in her eyes, like she was already trying to memorize every inch of what lay beyond the glass.


    For a moment, Leonard let himself look at her ¡ª really look. With the sunlight pouring in behind her, catching in her hair and tracing the lines of her face, she seemed almost unreal, as if she belonged more to this magical city than to the world they¡¯d come from. The gold and rose hues of dusk kissed her skin, and for a heartbeat, Leonard swore she was glowing. Ethereal.


    But then Leonard shook his head, hard enough to break the spell he¡¯d let himself fall under. He couldn¡¯t think like that ¡ª not now, not when so much was unknown.


    ¡°Well,¡± Wesley said, breaking the silence with a lopsided grin, though a sharper edge lurked beneath it, ¡°hope you enjoyed the sight. Depending on how the next conversation goes, we might not be seeing sunlight for a while.¡±


    Leonard blinked, turning to him. ¡°What?¡± he asked, just as a sudden, sickening wave of vertigo slammed into him.


    It was like being hurled from a great height, only to hang weightless in midair ¡ª and then drop again. His stomach churned, a cold sweat breaking over his skin as though all sense of gravity and direction had abandoned him. Nausea surged like a rising tide, threatening to spill whatever he had eaten hours before.


    The sunlight, the carriage, the cityscape ¡ª all of it vanished in a flash.


    When Leonard dared open his eyes again, he was no longer sitting in the carriage. Darkness pressed in from every side, cut only by the flicker of pale candlelight that bathed the room in an eerie glow. The air smelled faintly of wax and old stone, cool and unmoving, as though sealed off from the world above.


    Wesley stood casually, as if nothing had happened, hands tucked into his coat pockets, while the rest of them ¡ª Leonard, Mara, and Samantha ¡ª lay scattered on the polished stone floor, struggling to right themselves.


    ¡°Forced teleportation?¡± Mara groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows, her staff clattering beside her. ¡°They¡¯re really serious this time, Master.¡±


    ¡°When were they not?¡± Wesley replied with a nonchalant shrug, though a glint of sharpness flashed in his eyes.


    As Leonard pushed himself upright, the candlelight swelled, and more of the room was unveiled. Four massive banners, each looming high and heavy with embroidered sigils, unfurled from the vaulted ceiling. The golden thread of their insignias caught the firelight ¡ª a bear, a lion, a hawk, and a shark ¡ª each one emblems of power, ancient and unyielding.


    Behind the banners, dark silhouettes stood, each distinct in shape and stature ¡ª some tall and imposing, others lean and sharp as blades.


    A woman¡¯s voice, smooth as steel under silk, emanated from the shark banner, cutting through the heavy silence:


    ¡°Wesley Valentine,¡± she said, his name laced with suspicion. ¡°What are you up to this time? Involving yourself with Byron Meyers and bringing two unverified strangers into Mistra.¡±


    Wesley let out a soft laugh, tilting his head as though speaking to an old friend. ¡°Elisa, didn¡¯t expect to hear from you so soon ¡ª what, only a few months after giving birth?¡± He grinned. ¡°How¡¯s the baby boy? Already throwing around spells like a proper Samonel?¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    From behind the bear banner, a deep bellow of laughter echoed through the chamber.


    ¡°Valentine¡¯s still got the same spunk, huh?¡± the man rumbled, his voice full of rough amusement.


    ¡°Far too much for his age,¡± came a drier, more tired voice from behind the hawk banner ¡ª layered in weariness but sharp underneath.


    ¡°Spunk or not,¡± said another, a deep, regal voice that seemed to fill the room, speaking from behind the lion banner, ¡°the question remains, Valentine. What purpose do you have in making contact with Byron Meyers and binding him to a boy whose pedigree is of no significance?¡±


    Wesley glanced over his shoulder at Mara, who was now seated with her staff across her knees, looking equally amused and resigned.


    ¡°What?¡± she said, shrugging. ¡°You know they stuck me with you so I could rat you out if needed.¡±


    Leonard stiffened, feeling the weight of every gaze ¡ª unseen, but palpable ¡ª bearing down on him.


    Wesley turned back toward the banners, his voice calm, almost flippant. ¡°The boy is a coincidence,¡± he began. ¡°An opportunity handed to us by fate ¡ª a perfect way to keep Byron Meyers alive just long enough to make Barthold Valentine¡¯s dream come true. You know, make Byron¡¯s life as humiliating and inconvenient as possible if he ever dares show his face again.¡±


    There was a pause ¡ª a rustle of fabric as the figures behind the banners shifted.


    ¡°So you¡¯re telling me,¡± the lion¡¯s voice rumbled, ¡°that the Valentine family had no intention of neutralizing Meyers as his wife ordered? From the start?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Wesley said, popping the ¡®p¡¯ casually. ¡°Though my predecessor only wanted to punish his old friend for being a grade-A dumbass, following through on that vendetta actually presents us a rare opportunity.¡±


    ¡°Opportunity?¡± Elisa scoffed, her voice sharp, disbelieving. ¡°For what?¡±


    Wesley¡¯s smirk widened, a glint of mischief ¡ª and something darker ¡ª in his eyes. ¡°The North,¡± he said simply.


    The air in the chamber tightened in an instant. Even Leonard could feel the sudden spike of tension, as if every figure behind those banners had stopped breathing.


    ¡°What do you know of the North?¡± the lion asked, his voice lower now, but no less commanding.


    ¡°Oh, you know, little things,¡± Wesley chuckled. ¡°Like how Param¡¯s propaganda machine is working overtime to bury whatever mess they¡¯ve got up there. And don¡¯t even get me started on the West¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough,¡± the lion snapped, a flicker of unease slipping into his words. ¡°I see your sources remain... persistent.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ll never know who they are,¡± Wesley shot back, all teeth in his smile.


    Silence stretched long and heavy, as though the room itself was holding its breath.


    Finally, the hawk banner stirred, and its speaker addressed Wesley directly:


    ¡°You speak of an opportunity,¡± they said carefully.


    Wesley¡¯s grin sharpened. With a sudden movement, he reached out and gripped Leonard¡¯s shoulder, pulling him to stand at his side. Leonard swallowed thickly under the weight of unseen eyes.


    ¡°Within this boy,¡± Wesley announced, ¡°is the entirety of Byron Meyers¡¯ mana and magical capability. The Bloody War Mage, reincarnated to aid us when we need him most.¡±


    A snort of disbelief came from behind the bear banner. ¡°I can see some mana in the boy ¡ª but a mere bucket¡¯s worth,¡± the man scoffed.


    ¡°And Mara reported seeing Byron¡¯s apparition,¡± Elisa added. ¡°Yet there¡¯s no trace of him now.¡±


    The lion was silent for a moment, as though studying Leonard through the veil. Then he spoke, voice thoughtful. ¡°Meyer¡¯s apparition aside, the boy¡¯s body is adapting well to foreign mana... which speaks of a strong compatibility. Given time, he could fully assimilate Meyers¡¯ powers.¡±


    ¡°Your eyes are as sharp as ever, Stock,¡± Wesley said, throwing the lion a knowing wink.


    Though Leonard couldn¡¯t see behind the banner, he could almost feel Stock smiling.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you three months,¡± Stock finally declared, his voice cutting through the room like steel. ¡°If the boy does not prove himself worthy of the war effort by then¡ªif he fails to demonstrate Meyers¡¯ strength¡ªwe will neutralize him, along with Byron Meyers, as the Vanguard Families have decreed.¡±


    The finality of the statement settled over them like a guillotine.


    Silence followed, heavy and suffocating. Leonard could barely breathe under its weight, as though the room itself was closing in around him. His throat went dry. His hands trembled, though he fought to hide it. Three months... Three months to prove he was something other than a mistake.


    Beside him, Samantha tensed, her fingers tightening into fists.


    Then, as though brushing away a mild inconvenience, Wesley clapped his hands together with a grin that was far too wide for the moment. ¡°Alright. Deal.¡±


    The word echoed in the now-quiet chamber.


    Just as suddenly as they had appeared, the banners and their hidden lords dissolved, as if the candlelight itself had swallowed them. The room flickered and shifted, returning to a simple, dimly lit space with wooden beams and stone walls ¡ª empty, as though nothing monumental had just taken place.


    Samantha broke the silence first, arms crossed as she stared at the space where the banners had floated only moments ago. ¡°Not even one of them asked about me,¡± she muttered, her lips pulling into a pout that couldn''t quite hide the edge of frustration in her voice.


    Wesley, already pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a casual flick of his fingers, chuckled around the first exhale of smoke. ¡°Which means Leonard¡¯s doing his job properly.¡±


    Leonard blinked, confused. ¡°I am?¡±


    Wesley gave him a crooked smile, sharp as a blade. ¡°You kept all eyes on you. Trust me, that¡¯s a good thing.¡±


    Before Leonard could respond, Wesley reached into his coat and tossed a small, heavy bag. Leonard barely caught it, the metallic clink of coins unmistakable.


    ¡°There. Use that to get whatever you need. I¡¯ll teach you some basics this week then you¡¯re heading to the mage barracks,¡± Wesley said, rolling the cigarette between his fingers like he was already bored of the conversation. ¡°Your girlfriend here is going to the regular soldier training camp.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Samantha snapped, straightening up. ¡°When did I agree to that?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Wesley let out a small chuckle. ¡°Would you rather sit around the Valentine estate in silk robes while the kid here gets beaten to a pulp? I could make arrangements if you want.¡±


    She shot him a glare.


    He smirked and leaned in slightly. ¡°Come on, kid. You¡¯d lose your mind in two days. Besides¡­¡± He paused, the grin faltering for just a moment as his voice grew more serious. ¡°I know you¡¯re more than capable in a scuffle.¡±


    Leonard¡¯s gaze sharpened on Wesley, unable to hear what he just whispered to her. ¡°What about Byron?¡± he asked. ¡°He¡¯s been quiet for now, but what if he¡¯s planning something?¡±


    Wesley studied him for a long moment, his usual smirk fading just enough to betray a flicker of concern. ¡°He... won¡¯t. Maybe? From the stories that my ancestors passed down, he doesn¡¯t seem the type. But then again, I don¡¯t know how much he¡¯s changed.¡±


    The words carried more weight than Leonard wanted to think about.


    Without another word, Wesley turned on his heel, flicking the last embers of his cigarette to the floor. Mara, silent until now, gave them both a lingering look ¡ª something between sympathy and warning ¡ª before following Wesley out the door.


    As the door creaked shut behind them, Leonard finally exhaled a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding.


    ¡°Sorry to drag you into this,¡± he murmured, looking over at Samantha.


    She snorted, though a faint smirk pulled at the corners of her lips. ¡°Leonard, if I didn¡¯t wanna be here, I wouldn¡¯t be. Just¡­ being a soldier better not ruin my hair.¡± She raked a hand through her already messy locks for emphasis, trying to lighten the mood.


    Leonard chuckled ¡ª a real laugh this time, brief though it was ¡ª and glanced down at the bag of coins in his hand.


    Outside, the city hummed with life ¡ª unaware of the countdown that had just begun.


    As he stared into the flickering candlelight, Leonard realized that the real fight wasn¡¯t in three months ¡ª it started now.


    And he wasn¡¯t sure if he was ready.

 Welcome, Recruit

    The morning started off almost normal for Leonard Exparti ¡ª or as normal as things could get, considering his life had turned upside down. A hearty breakfast, a quick bath, and then the moment that made it all real: putting on his uniform for the first time.


    It carried the colors of Param ¡ª deep red, sharp black, and gold accents ¡ª but unlike Wesley¡¯s heavily decorated ensemble, Leonard¡¯s was plain, almost painfully so. No medals, no marks of distinction. Just a stark reminder of his rank: Recruit.


    With a knapsack slung over his shoulder ¡ª packed with essentials and the determination he had spent all night trying to summon ¡ª Leonard stepped out into the quiet hallway of the inn where they had been staying.


    He rapped his knuckles on the door next to his, glancing around as he waited. No answer.


    ¡°Sam¡¯s already gone to the barracks,¡± a familiar voice said.


    Leonard turned to see Mara leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed and watching him with mild amusement.


    ¡°Oh...¡± Leonard muttered, a flicker of disappointment slipping through before he could hide it.


    Mara smirked. ¡°I know, I know ¡ª you can¡¯t bear to be apart. But trust me, once you start training, you¡¯ll be too busy praying for mercy to think about her.¡±


    Leonard raised an eyebrow, trying to play it off. ¡°It can¡¯t be that bad... right?¡±


    Mara pushed off the wall, motioning for him to follow. ¡°Normally? Not too bad. But Master Valentine pulled some strings for you.¡± She shot him a knowing look. ¡°He made sure you¡¯re getting the best instructor in all of Param. And believe me when I say ¡ª some of her methods will make you wish you were dead.¡±


    Leonard swallowed hard, falling into step behind her, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the strap of his bag.


    They walked in silence for a while, the inn fading behind them as they turned into the main street. Leonard couldn''t help glancing around at the towering buildings and sharp, fortified walls of Mistra ¡ª a city that felt both alive and ancient, and nothing like the quiet, rural life he''d left behind.


    Here, soldiers marched in neat lines. Mages in long coats hurried down the stone paths, their staves clinking against the ground like rhythmic warnings. Every now and then, a patrol of armored knights on horseback passed, eyes sharp and wary.


    Leonard swallowed, the weight of his plain uniform suddenly heavier on his shoulders.


    "Still not used to living here?" Mara asked, glancing sideways at him.


    He nodded. "It''s... a lot."


    "Better get used to it," she said, smirking. "You¡¯ll be seeing more of this when they ship you out to the frontlines."


    The frontlines. Richard.


    The words echoed in his head like a curse.


    Before he could reply, they turned a corner and came into view of the barracks ¡ª a sprawling complex of stone and steel, split into two massive courtyards. One side was filled with recruits in various shades of leather and mail, sparring and drilling in formation. He tried to catch a glimpse of Samantha, but there were too many bodies in the way. Instead, he focused on the other side.


    Leonard''s stomach twisted as he watched the scene before him ¡ª people in mage coats stood in formation, hands outstretched. Instructors stalked between them, barking orders as walls of flame erupted in controlled bursts, lightning arced between targets, and shimmering shields formed and shattered under magical assault.


    This is where I''m supposed to belong?


    Mara chuckled at the look on his face. "Impressed? Don''t be. Half those fireballs are gonna fizzle out before they hit anything. That''s what you''re walking into ¡ª a bunch of amateurs trying not to set themselves on fire."


    "Comforting," Leonard muttered.


    "Still, don¡¯t get too cocky." Mara stopped at the gates and turned to face him, her expression a little more serious. "Your case is... complicated. You¡¯ve got more raw mana than most of these recruits combined, but if you can¡¯t control it? You¡¯re as good as dead. And trust me ¡ª she won¡¯t go easy on you."


    "She?"


    Before Mara could answer, a sudden explosion of fire rocked the yard, a shockwave of heat rushing past them.


    Leonard flinched as a figure marched out of the smoke ¡ª a tall woman clad in a black and red officer¡¯s coat, her silver hair tied back in a severe braid. Her eyes scanned the recruits like a hawk sizing up prey.


    "That," Mara said, gesturing with her chin, "is Instructor Halbrecht. The best battle mage in Param. And your worst nightmare."


    As if on cue, Halbrecht¡¯s voice cut through the yard like a blade.


    "If you think waving sparks around makes you a mage, think again! On the battlefield, hesitation gets you and everyone around you killed!"


    Her gaze swept the yard, sharp as a dagger ¡ª and when her eyes landed on Leonard and Mara, they narrowed.


    "You there! Fresh meat?"


    Leonard blinked, then realized she was talking to him.


    "Uh ¡ª yes, ma¡¯am!"


    "Get over here. Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re worth the strings Valentine pulled to get you in."


    Leonard shot Mara a desperate look, but she only grinned and gave him a pat on the back.


    "Good luck. You¡¯ll need it."


    With a sinking feeling, Leonard stepped forward, past the gate, as every mage recruit turned to look at him ¡ª sizing him up like wolves sniffing out a new lamb.


    Instructor Halbrecht crossed her arms as she loomed over him.


    "So," she said, eyeing him from head to toe. "You¡¯re the so-called prodigy that insufferable fucker¡¯s been harping up about. Let''s see if there¡¯s anything in there worth training ¡ª or if you''re just a pretty puppet dancing on Meyers'' strings."


    Leonard stiffened at the insult, but before he could say a word, she tossed a wooden staff at his feet.


    "Pick it up."


    He did, awkwardly, the wood feeling heavier than he expected.


    Halbrecht pointed toward a row of practice dummies, charred and scarred from countless magical strikes.


    "First lesson, Exparti: show me what you''ve got. Attack that target ¡ª and don¡¯t hold back. If Valentine has taught you anything, I want to see it."


    Leonard swallowed as the recruits gathered to watch, whispers already starting to spread through the yard.


    No pressure, right?


    He tightened his grip on the staff, closed his eyes for a moment ¡ª and reached inside, feeling for that well of energy, that strange foreign magic now buried in his soul.


    It stirred ¡ª wild, volatile, and far deeper than he expected.


    He opened his eyes.


    "Alright," he muttered under his breath. "Here goes nothing."


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    As the first crackle of power surged through his body, a strange sense of both terror and exhilaration filled his chest.


    As Leonard tightened his grip on the staff, the murmurs of the recruits around him began to fade, replaced by a single voice echoing in his mind ¡ª Wesley¡¯s voice.


    <hr>


    "Magic isn¡¯t about words or fancy hand movements," Wesley had said one evening, leaning back lazily against a tree outside the inn. Smoke from his cigarette drifted into the air as he eyed Leonard like a puzzle he hadn¡¯t quite solved yet. "It¡¯s about understanding. You can¡¯t summon fire if you don¡¯t know what fire is. Can¡¯t cut through a man if you don¡¯t know what it entails."


    Leonard had sat across from him, brow furrowed. "But how do I ''understand'' something I¡¯ve never done before? I¡¯ve never shot lightning or thrown fire at people."


    Wesley had smirked, tilting his head toward the woods. "Then don¡¯t start there. Start with what you do know."


    He¡¯d taken a long drag from his cigarette before gesturing lazily toward Leonard. "Tell me ¡ª when you swing an axe, what¡¯s going through your head?"


    Leonard blinked. "I mean... I don¡¯t know. I aim for the weak part of the wood. You line up the cut, put your weight behind it, and ¡ª"


    "Exactly," Wesley interrupted. "You see the strike before you make it. You know what the tree will feel like, how the blade bites in, where the split will run. Magic¡¯s no different. If you wanna cut something with magic, you have to understand what it means to cut. You¡¯re not a mage who fights ¡ª you¡¯re a lumberjack who happens to use magic."


    He¡¯d pointed a finger at Leonard¡¯s chest then, sharp and direct.


    "So next time you wanna hit something, don¡¯t think about spells. Think about your axe. Picture it. Feel it. Swing it. And then let the magic follow."


    <hr>


    The memory faded as Leonard¡¯s gaze locked on the training dummy ahead of him, still hearing Wesley¡¯s voice like a steady guide.


    Think about the axe. Think about the swing.


    His fingers adjusted on the staff, and in his mind, it wasn''t a piece of wood he held ¡ª it was the axe handle, rough and solid in his hands, the weight of the blade pulling down toward the earth.


    The tree stands before you.


    You see the grain, you see where the cut needs to go.


    Swing true.


    Leonard inhaled slowly. And then, as if he were back in the woods, he swung.


    But as he did ¡ª magic surged to life in response to that mental image.


    A faint golden light burst from the staff¡¯s tip, following the motion of his imagined axe. At first, it was just a flicker ¡ª but then something deeper woke, Byron Meyers¡¯ latent mana responding like a sleeping beast stirred from slumber.


    The light flared suddenly, a sharp arc of raw force slashing outward from the staff ¡ª a cleaving wave that smashed into the target dummy with a sound like cracking timber.


    For a moment, everything was still.


    The top half of the training dummy slid clean off, falling to the ground with a heavy thud, while a thin trail of smoke curled from the cut.


    All around him, the other recruits stood frozen, staring with wide eyes. A few of them had been smirking before ¡ª now, not so much.


    Halbrecht''s sharp eyes narrowed.


    "Again."


    Leonard blinked, caught off guard. "W-What?"


    "Again," she repeated, her tone like ice. "But this time, control it ¡ª or you¡¯ll be cleaning up the mess when you destroy the yard."


    Leonard swallowed, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. His hands were trembling slightly from the surge of power that had come out of nowhere ¡ª a reminder that what was inside him was not entirely his own.


    He glanced over to Mara at the gate, who gave him a small nod, arms still crossed, watching like a proud but expectant sister.


    Halbrecht stepped closer, her presence looming.


    "You''ve got power ¡ª fine,¡± she whispered. ¡°But power without control is a danger to yourself and everyone around you. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯ve got Meyers¡¯ magic inside you ¡ª until you learn how to wield it properly, you¡¯re nothing."


    Leonard gritted his teeth, nodding.


    "Good," she said. "Now again. And this time, show me you know what it means to strike only what you aim for ¡ª not everything in the way."


    He tightened his grip on the staff again, feeling sweat bead at his temple.


    Alright, Wes. Axe, tree, clean cut. I can do this... right?


    Leonard took a slow, shaky breath and reset his stance, gripping the staff tighter, his arms sore from tension. His first strike had felt like swinging a storm ¡ª wild, uncontained.


    Focus.


    He exhaled through his nose.


    Axe. Tree. Just like Wesley said.


    He pictured it again ¡ª the weight of the axe, the feeling of muscle memory in his arms, the exact angle he used when splitting a log down its center. He visualized the cut, felt the impact before it even happened.


    With a smooth motion, Leonard swung the staff a second time.


    The glow was there, but smaller now, tighter, and when the energy burst out, it formed a focused crescent, much more contained. It struck the replacement dummy with a sharp crack, leaving a deep gouge but not splitting it in two.


    Gasps rose around him.


    "Better," Halbrecht said coldly, though there was a glint in her eye now ¡ª a glimmer of reluctant approval. "You might not be a total waste of my time."


    Leonard, panting slightly, turned to look at her. She was standing arms folded, her wolf-like eyes watching him as if trying to figure out how dangerous he could become.


    "Get in line, Exparti," she said after a moment. "You''re not special here. Not yet."


    Leonard nodded, stepping back into formation as the rest of the recruits watched him out of the corners of their eyes ¡ª some with respect, others with suspicion.


    Not special yet, he repeated to himself, glancing at his hands. But what was that feeling when the magic burst out? Like something had stirred within him ¡ª something deeper than his own will.


    The training continued without incident until the sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the skies in streaks of red and purple. By nightfall, Leonard collapsed onto his cot in the crowded barracks, body aching in ways he didn¡¯t know were possible. He stared up at the wooden ceiling beams, mind racing.


    The other recruits talked quietly among themselves, some giving him sideways glances, but no one approached.


    Just as he was about to close his eyes and give in to exhaustion, a familiar voice whispered from the door.


    "Hey, tree-splitter."


    Leonard blinked and turned his head. There was Samantha, dressed down from the day¡¯s training, though her bow still hung casually over one shoulder. She smirked at him, eyes sparkling mischievously.


    "Sam?" he muttered, sitting up.


    She tilted her head toward the door. "Come on. You look like you could use some air."


    Without waiting for him to respond, she was already slipping back into the night.


    Leonard hesitated, then grabbed his coat and followed her out into the cool night air.


    Samantha led him away from the barracks, moving with surprising ease for someone who had probably spent all day getting drilled by instructors. She ducked around a quiet corner of the compound, past a few supply sheds, and then ¡ª much to Leonard¡¯s confusion ¡ª climbed up the side of a storage building with practiced ease.


    "Samantha, what are you¡ª?"


    "Shhh," she waved him up. "Trust me. You¡¯ll like this."


    Grumbling softly, Leonard followed, pulling himself up to the roof with effort. When he finally stood beside her, his breath caught in his throat.


    From their vantage point, the whole camp spread out below them ¡ª training yards lit dimly by torchlight, rows of tents and barracks, the faint glimmer of the city in the distance. And above, a sky so clear and vast that Leonard could see every star.


    "Wow..." he murmured.


    "Told you," Samantha said, sitting on the edge, her feet dangling off the side. "Found this place on my first day. Good place to breathe when you feel like you¡¯re drowning."


    Leonard sat beside her, still catching his breath. "Drowning... yeah, that about sums it up."


    They sat in silence for a moment, just taking in the view.


    Then Samantha nudged him gently with her shoulder. "Heard about what you did today."


    "Let me guess ¡ª everyone''s talking about the kid who almost destroyed the yard?" Leonard muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.


    "Something like that," she grinned. "But I saw the cut you made. Clean, powerful. You know, for a lumberjack, you¡¯re not too bad with magic."


    Leonard chuckled faintly. "Yeah, well, I almost lost control. Again."


    Samantha looked at him for a long moment. "Scared?"


    Leonard hesitated. "...Yeah. I don¡¯t even know what¡¯s really inside me. Every time I touch that power, it feels like¡­ like something¡¯s watching me from inside. Like it¡¯s not fully mine."


    Samantha was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "That makes two of us."


    He turned to her, surprised.


    She smirked, but there was a sadness in her eyes. "This whole soldier thing? I¡¯m good with a bow, but out there, when the real fighting starts? I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ready. I¡¯ve always fought to protect myself but this is different."


    Leonard swallowed. "Feels like we got thrown into something way bigger than we can handle."


    "Yeah," she agreed, and leaned back on her arms, gazing up at the stars. "But at least we¡¯re in it together, right?"


    Leonard smiled faintly. "Yeah. Together."


    There was another pause ¡ª a quieter, gentler one ¡ª and Leonard glanced over at her, noticing how the moonlight softened her sharp features.


    "Hey, Sam?" he said, voice quieter now.


    "Yeah?"


    "...Thanks. For this."


    She smiled sideways at him, bumping her shoulder into his again. "Anytime, tree-splitter."