It was a peaceful day. The sky was clear, and a brilliant sun shone down upon the large village and the plains that surrounded it. A gentle breeze blew from the nearby forest, brushing the top of the large hill and continuing on towards the buildings in the near distance. It teased the hair of the man who stood atop that same hill, passing him by without hesitation.

Samuel stood in deep thought, attempting to gather his mana about him. He ignored the way the wind sent hair dancing. Thankfully his long blue robe was on the ground nearby and weighed down by a book, for its incessant flapping would be a bane on his concentration. He needed all his focus for the moment.

Slowly, the winds around him began to shift. They merely faltered at first, but quickly changed direction as they whirled around him. His jet-black hair, interrupted by a brilliant white streak, was really set into a chaotic dance now, but he paid it no mind. Ever so slowly, the wind grew in strength as it swirled around him, and he smiled in satisfaction as he felt lifted off the ground.

Samuel had been disappointed to learn that his grasp on magic was not as it had been after his fight with the corrupted Ancient known as Neratas. On that first journey, he had learned much about the ways of magic, both from his own studies and the guidance of his friend Grimr, another Ancient. Then he’d received the ultimate gift from Arcana, the fallen god he’d set out to rescue.

Arcana had marked Samuel as his champion and made him the bearer of his essence. This had been Arcana’s only chance for survival, but the burden was too great for any mortal to hold. Thus, the god had made Samuel a new body, one capable of holding that burden as well as growing with his already unusual mind. In effect, Samuel had been made an Ancient like Grimr.

It had been this act that had so dramatically changed Samuel’s life. In an attempt to flee the intense pain that accompanied such a burden, Samuel had fouled his teleportation spell to Harlest and had disappeared from the world for a hundred years. In that time, most of the people he knew had died, convinced that he himself was dead. Only two of his friends, Grimr and Sera, were still alive to witness his return.

Sera, his childhood love, now an ancient woman at the end of her long life, had witnessed Samuel’s reappearance in person and had tended to him while he slept, unconscious, for three days. Upon waking, Samuel learned what had become of his other friends. Grimr had grown in popularity and was now loved by all as the ultimate Guardian of Nature, a god in his own right. Samuel did not know if Grimr had returned from The Divine Isles yet or not.

The winds surged more powerfully around his torso, pushing him back a few feet. They were neither as powerful nor as efficient as he would have liked, but he was still pleased with his progress in the past week. When he’d first set himself to practice, his use of mana had been very sloppy, and he’d been unsuccessful in using many of the spells that he had previously mastered. A hundred years of time out of the world had robbed him of what little mastery he’d known.

Thankfully, as the bearer of Arcana’s essence, Samuel still had a massive amount of mana at his disposal. That made experiments like these, which burned a substantial chunk of energy, possible. He could continually push himself to improve without fear of tiring or injuring himself by running out of mana without warning.

He willed the winds to push him forward once more and felt himself glide ever so slowly in the direction he’d chosen. He felt a thrill of exultation surge through his body and directed himself to the left. Then the right. Then up and back down again. The winds were slow, but they responded to his command, and he was able to once again fly through the air, supported by powerful winds of his own.

His landing was less than graceful. Attempting to coast softly back onto his feet, he lost his concentration about ten feet from the grass and dropped like a sack of potatoes. His legs collapsed upon contact with the ground and he fell into a heap, the fall driving the wind from his lungs. Coughing, he pulled himself back to his feet and reminded himself for what felt like the hundredth time that his body was also weaker.

One of the benefits of having the body of an Ancient had been that Samuel, who was by no means an athletic type, had been stronger and faster. The body crafted by Arcana had been more resilient, not to mention more susceptible to the influence of mana. In his fight with Neratas, he’d used that fact to his advantage, temporarily achieving supernatural reflexes and strength as he struck the great wolf with his arcane blade.

The blade, he remembered. He hadn’t tried to summon that. He’d been too focused on trying to remaster his other magicks to give it a second’s thought. Another gift that Arcana had given him had been Matandang Talim, a blade named in the language of the Ancients. Curious now, he placed both hands in the air before him.

“Halika,” he said, the very words coated with power as they left his mouth. “Matandang Talim!”

There was a brief flare of white energy, and the blade appeared in the air. He caught it in his hands, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt the weight and knew that this, at least, he had remembered. Though, as he drew the long slender blade from its dull blue scabbard, he noticed that it seemed to weigh a good deal more than he’d remembered, and it didn’t shine quite as brightly. Less of his mana surged through the blade, and the runes that were etched along the spin of the blade were dull and lifeless.

Letting out another sigh, this one of disappointment, Samuel re-sheathed the blade and dismissed it with another word. Deciding that had been enough practice for the day, he retrieved his patched blue robe and pulled it back on. He picked up the book that had held it down, and idly flipped through the pages, reading the lines of text he’d inscribed inside. It was the original copy of his first book, Tome of the Body. A collection of knowledge gained from his first journey with Shigeru and Grimr, as well as his theories about what made physical magic so strong and unique.

It was his hope that he could publish the book through the Mage’s Guild in Milagre, the organization that had hosted the college he’d attended earlier in his life. He’d been sabotaged by one of the Archmages, a sour man named Lucian Peran, and had left the College in a fury to join Shigeru and Grimr on their quest. His Transmutation teacher, Master Astori, had begged him to come back afterward. Samuel had been tempted to return and give the college another try, but never got the chance.

Master Astori. The bald Master of Transmutation had been Samuel’s favorite teacher at the school, as well as his first true mentor in his magical studies. Samuel had learned a great deal from the man and was saddened to think that he had died believing the young mage to have disappeared, presumed dead. Perhaps with Lucian Peran gone, Samuel would attend the College once again to honor his old mentor.

Samuel noticed the figure approaching him within about three hundred meters. One of the new spells Samuel had rushed to master again had been his mana screen. It was a new technique that he had developed while traveling with his friends, and was his best method of keeping an eye on his surroundings. A thin screen of his mana was extended a great distance and instantly registered any foreign energy that it came in contact with. Now that he’d mastered it again, he kept it up at all times.

He glanced behind him to see a tall youth with curly brown hair beginning to climb up the hill. Recognizing Thomas, Sera’s great-grandson, and her primary help in running the Nook Inn, Samuel waved in greeting and started walking down the hill to meet him. The wind was less present as he strolled down the slope, as it was deflected by the top and flew overhead. It would become stronger once he reached the bottom he knew, but at the moment, it was eerily quiet.

“Good morning Samuel,” Thomas said, once he had reached an easy speaking distance. “I hope your practice is going well.”

“It’s not too bad,” Samuel admitted. “I’m slowly improving, but I am improving.”

“I wish you could teach me magic,” Thomas said with a slight frown. “I’m a sad excuse for a mage, the way I am now.”

Samuel smiled in understanding and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. It hadn’t been too long, at least in his own mind, since he’d felt useless and bored himself. Trapped in a boring village, he’d yearned for nothing more than the chance to travel. Sure, his inclination hadn’t been towards magic at the time, but the sentiment was the same.

“I’m afraid I’m not the right person to teach you, Thomas,” he said frankly. “I’m still barely above Apprentice level myself.”

“So you keep saying,” Thomas replied with a frown. “But you’re the Champion of Arcana! Your mana is intense, and you were a good enough mage to fight Neratas.”

Samuel sighed. “I told you that my absence for a hundred years weakened me. Sure, I’ve got a lot of mana now, but I can barely make the easiest spells work whenever I want.”

Thomas didn’t reply to that. His shoulders hunched in disappointment, he stared down at the ground and idly kicked a rock with the toe of his boot. He regretted it at once, for the rock was larger and heavier than he’d expected, and the soft woolen boots offered no protection to his feet. Samuel resisted chuckling with supreme effort.

“So why did you come all the way out here to find me?” Samuel asked, deciding to change the subject. “Did I leave my room a mess again?”

Samuel was by no means a tidy person. Whether it had been in his shack of a house, the fine estate in Milagre, or the room he currently lived in, he paid no mind to organization. He wasn’t dirty, but he tossed clothing and random items around when he was done with them, not bothering to fold or store them properly. The only care he took was with his notes.

“No,” Thomas replied, shaking his head in disappointment again, though this time directed at Samuel. “Grandmother is looking for you.”

“Ah.” Samuel thought that was to be expected. After believing that he’d been dead for a hundred years, Sera now panicked every time Samuel was out of sight for long periods of time. It had become slightly tiresome, but Samuel could understand her feelings. They’d been apart for so long, and only had a little time to spend together. It was this exact reason that had kept Samuel in Harlest for the last month, instead of setting off on another journey as he wished to.

They strolled back to the village in companionable silence, enjoying the cool breeze that came from the dark forest to the west. Harlest had grown quite a lot since Samuel had left it. That was to be expected in a hundred years, but Samuel still wondered silently at how many buildings there were now. They even reached out to the spot where the remains of his shack had lain. Apparently, Sera had bought the land it stood on, and forbid anyone from tearing it down.

Just at the end of the high street stood the familiar central fountain. When Samuel had been just five years old, a skilled merchant had dug a hole down there, exposing a hidden stream of water that ran under the village all the way to the Durmeau river on the other side of the forest. Samuel could still remember the wondrous sight of the water surging up out of the ground in a giant spray. A large stone fountain had since been constructed around it, so that there was a continuous trickle of fresh water.

On the edge of the village square that held the fountain was a large three-storied building. That was the Nook Inn, one of the oldest buildings in the village. It had been built before Samuel was born, and he had known the man who’d run it originally, a kind-hearted old man named Thomas. He had taken Sera in and given her the job of serving, eventually promoting her so that she ran the inn on her own. Sera had taken over ownership when Thomas had died, faithfully keeping his beloved inn in business.

“I imagine Sera has told you many tales about Thomas,” Samuel commented as he pushed through the front door of the inn. “She looked up to him as a father, so in a way, he’s your great-great-grandfather.”

“Yes,” Thomas said shortly, seeming to straighten slightly with pride. “I never met him, of course, but he sounded like a good man.”

“He was that,” Samuel agreed with a grin. “He’d give me free meals every once in a while. Though I suspect that it was Sera who convinced him.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t win him over with your charm,” Sera’s voice sounded from the left, near the gently cracking fire in the hearth. “Gods knows you couldn’t carry a conversation if it was in a handcart.”

Sera seemed to be full of these random idioms in her old age, Samuel noted. Ever since his return a month ago, she’d had hundreds of odd quips like that on hand. Each one was more strange to hear, yet they had the unsettling effect of making him feel dumb.

“Good morning, Sera,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and hugging her. “Did you sleep well?”

“You sound like Thomas,” she scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, thank you very much. No need to check up on me every second of the day.”

Samuel frowned in mock-frustration. “That’s a bit rich coming from you. You send someone after me when I’m out of sight for a second.”

She smoothed the thick blankets that were spread across her lap, making an obvious effort to avoid looking at him. “Well, that’s because you’re clueless, like a baby duck. If you’re left alone, you get into trouble.”

Samuel blinked. “Is that so?”

“Of course. Look what happened the last time you left the village. Trouble.

Thomas tried unsuccessfully to smother a snigger, and Samuel threw him a withering glare. Now that Sera was over the shock of seeing him again, her sarcastic side had shown itself again. Unfortunately, a long full life had made her favorite weapon, her words, even sharper. Samuel could never win an argument with her.

“Oh, you’re just impossible, Sera.” He said, rolling his eyes as he sat beside her. “You’ll scare me away with such mean comments.”

She cackled. “Oh? And where else would you find such a kind woman who will put up with you?”

Samuel joined in the round of laughter this time. He always felt at odds with strangers, and Sera was at the top of the very short list of those who had managed to break through his shell and get to know him well. It was even more impressive that she was the only living mortal on that list.

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” Thomas said with a laugh. “You two just wait there.”

“Sounds great,” Samuel said enthusiastically. “What’s on the menu?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m a great chef. You’ll love it.”