All three of us were gathered as we had been before. Eligor in his sturdy chair, Marilleth leaning against the counter, and me cross-legged on the floor. The old beard insisted I try Marilleth’s onion-barley-rabbit stew, claiming he needed me “properly indebted”.

  I wasn’t in a position to refuse. It was simple, hot, and better than anything I’d been served at the manor.

  “Looks like you’ve got somethin’ on yer mind, boy,” Eligor grumbled.

  I looked over, careful not to stare him in his deep green eyes.

  “The statue... the one in the center of town. Do you know anything about it?”

  Marilleth turned away from me, huffing an insult toward the thing.

  “How could we not? It’s a big damn insult.”

  I tilted my head, unsure what that meant.

  Eligor tapped the rim of his bowl with his spoon, the kind of sound that puts eyes on you. “Go on then, Marilleth. Tell it. I’m not speakin that bastard’s name — long as I live.”

  Marilleth curled her nose, not at the order, but at the thought of telling me. Like the history wasn’t for me to hear. Still, she pushed off the counter, staring me down with clenched teeth.

  “Fine,” she started, “his name was Seyonne Arc Arnier.”

  The name struck a chord. A classic noble tale, the king who spared rebellious commoners that he could’ve just executed. They called him the “Stayed Hand” after that.

  I didn’t dare speak that thought. The bitterness in her voice made it clear their version had less mercy in it.

  “I heard the story from my father,” she commented, “every Fuul kid hears it.”

  She crossed her arms, eyes now pointing out the window. “The king-”

  “Bastard.” Eligor interrupted

  “...bastard. He gathered the rebels together... all of them. Nobles, common men, women and children. Anyone tied to the people fighting against the crown.”

  She didnt look at me, face stone cold with an unspoken anger beneath.

  “Didn’t kill them. Death was too quick for that sadistic wretch. Instead, he exiled them up here — to this.”

  She gestured toward the window, endless snow on the horizon. It clicked that this village was the result of that story, this place that bared its bitter fangs every evening. That part obviously wasn’t told in the books.

  I looked toward Eligor, his eyes planted firmly on the bowl in his hands.

  “So that statue is a reminder. Who has the power. Who decides our fate.” Her jaw tightened, refusing to speak another word.

  Only the roar of the hearth dragged around the room. Heat and cinders moving to fill in where words left. All I could do was swallow, rid my mind of the warm story I’d been taught. A story told by people who’d never felt cold.

  Eligor looked back up, leaning forward on his armrest, and toward me.

  “That’s why our town’s called Fuulen. They called us fools as we were marched out. We took the name and kept movin’.”

  He glanced out the window, “First winter, about half of us froze. All we could do was hold em in our hearts and keep working.” He leaned back once again, “all we could’ve done.”

  I took a deep breath in. Gods, what a heavy history. It still lives on, in flesh and in blood.

  Eligor huffed, shaking off his melancholy.

  “You wanna live on this land? Keep earnin’ it and I’ll give you a place to stay and warm food.”

  He held his hand up, rotating it to show the scrawl tattoos winding down his arm.

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  “When you’re not doin’ that, I’ll show you what magic really is. If you’ve got the spine.”

  The offer hung in the air, almost heavier than the history. My breath caught on that word, “magic.” My heart kicked hard against my ribs, evoking memories of the freezing manor hallways. Cold mornings in vain, all for scraps of recognition.

  My father’s voice crawled up to my ear, ever so desperate to keep me underfoot.

  Say it again, I dare you.

  Heat flared under my skin, my eyes, my ears. My spine snapped straight, posture falling into old habits I hated. My breath came short, then slower, then steady. Forced through my nose until it obeyed. I wasn’t going to break.

  Not this time.

  “Well... I suppose you might not have the spine fer’ it.” Eligor replied, one brow raised like I’d asked a stupid question.

  Marilleth met my gaze for only the second time today. Something flashed in her eyes for just one moment — gone before I could name it.

  “No. I’ll do it,” I resolved.

  Eligor simply nodded his head, “Tomorrow mornin’. Be up early. I’d better not regret this.”

  The firewood popped in the hearth, sending a spray of sparks up the chimney. The weight burdening the room lifted a pinch, giving room for exhaustion underneath.

  I cleared my throat. “Where... should I sleep?”

  Marilleth didn’t bother to hide her surprise. Her eyes flickered between two doors connected to this room. One for her, one for Eligor. Yeah...

  Eligor answered first, “Floor’s warm enough. Don’t drift from th’ hearth and you’ll be just fine.”

  The floor.

  They’ll write tales about my luck.

  “That’s the only spot?” I muttered, scratching my forearm.

  Marilleth sighed, placing her bowl in the washbasin beside her.

  “Our house.”

  She walked over to one of the doors, “At least he’s not trying to put you outside.”

  Eligor snorted, “Oh, now that’s a good idea.”

  Her eyes narrowed, unamused. He shrugged back like he’d said nothing at all.

  Shadows began to stretch across the ground as the fire in front of me began dying down. I debated tossing another piece of firewood in, but they’d eat me if they found out. It was particularly hard to sleep now that my back absorbed the heat from the floorboards, leaving the rest of me in the cold. A thin draft slipped under the door, stealing the last of the warmth without mercy.

  I rolled onto my side, pulling my cloak as tight as it would go. I felt the weight of everything settling on my shoulders. Tomorrow would come fast whether I slept or not.

  I must’ve drifted off at some point, because I awoke to a painful grip on my shoulder, vision focusing to the morning light stabbing through the window.

  “Wake up,” Marilleth ordered, shaking me with the care of a thunderstorm.

  I hoisted myself up off the ground, neck stiff from the unbelievably hard floor. “Did I wake up too late...?”

  She shook her head, “no, but you’re gonna come see this.”

  After only half-explaining, she grabbed me by the collar, practically dragging me out the door. The snow was bitter-cold this morning and I wasn’t prepared to be knee-deep in it. At least I could tell I wasn’t dreaming, now.

  We made our way along the side of the house. Marilleth knew exactly where to step to silence her footsteps against the crunch of frost. I, however, made as much noise as possible. She must have picked that up while hunting.

  “Why are-” I began, question unfinished as she gave me a murderous glare.

  She gestured toward the back yard.

  Sure enough, Eligor was standing there, breath steaming in the morning air. His stance was wide, rooted like he was bracing for a charge. The tattoos across his arms and shoulders glowed as a dim light filled them in.

  He lifted his left hand, glowing amber yellow, and the ground itself shuddered. “Enemy’s forestalled —”

  A slab of earth cracked upward, rising into a solid wall taller than the house. Snow slid off the sides in uneven sheets. The pressure in the air shifted, sweeping across my arms.

  His right hand flared a brighter blue, as his magic ripped moisture from the air. Balls of water ripped above him, freezing violently. Seven jagged spears of ice hung above him, sharp enough to pierce armor.

  His left hand closed into a fist as he threw it down, the wall dropping back into place with the motion.

  “...Now!” He shouted, throwing his right hand forward. The shards of ice shrieked as they tore through the air, streaking across the clearing with lethal precision.

  That kind of motion could shatter a line of infantry.

  My chest tightened, hairs standing on end as I processed what I’d seen. Raw, earned power sourced from decades of diligent practice. It was never something he’d inherited, but he’d made it his in a way nobody else could.

  This man was to be my teacher. A man forged through effort and war.

  Marilleth pulled me back and out of sight before he could turn around. I stumbled backward, breath catching as my coat snapped tight into my throat.

  “Every day” Marilleth stated. “You want the scrawl? Earn it.”

  I nodded, still somewhat wishing that wasn’t true. I couldn’t unsee it. That power was the kind of thing I needed to destroy my father. Heart racing, pushing determination through my veins. I pulled free and stepped out to meet him.

  “Good morning, Eligor.” I forced out, hoping he wouldn’t skewer me.

  “...well.” He replied, wiping sweat from his wrinkled brow. “Ready, then?”

  Was I really ready to do this? It didn’t matter. This is what I want. The cold wind brushed against my hands, seeping between my fingers and numbing them just a bit more.

  I swallowed. “Please... teach me.”

  Eligor jerked his hand, beckoning me over. I’ll push through it. On my honor.

  P.S: Author shoutout stays.