When the bell rang at the centre of Wethermane, one young man found the sound to be particularly offensive. Vance shot upright in his bed. He thought it seemed louder than normal.

He could tell that it was light outside thanks to the suns warmth landing on his hands through the window, it seemed like it'd be a nice day. He didn't bother changing clothes and left the comfort and relative safety of his room and faced his first daily challenge - the stairs.

Vance had tackled this particular challenge every day for as long as he could remember and only had real trouble a handful of times, he couldn't see the steps but familiarity was king. He descended in a manner that was satisfactory by his own estimation, though perhaps not particularly elegant.

This point was illustrated clearly for him when he, in his sleepy stupor, forgot about the last step. He was resigned to trip and either stumble for a long moment or become intimately familiar with the taste of the entry halls wooden floorboards.

"Whoa, watch it!"

A strong hand pushed up against Vance from the bottom of the staircase. His brother Leon was, evidently, already standing at the bottom of the stairs. likely looming in his normal position leant against the doorway of the kitchen.

"One of these days it'll be your teeth we're worrying about, not your eyes. Good morning, by the by."

Leon had one of those voices you might attribute to a town crier or some sort of announcer for competitions. It was strong and clear. Vance would've sworn he could hear the smile creep onto his brothers face, the guy was so big that he was fairly certain that he could use those same facial muscles to cause a small earthquake.

"Thanks, Leon, it's always that last step. What an asshole, right?"

Leon grunted and gave the bottom step a little kick. By the sound of it, he was already wearing boots.

"We'll chastise the stairs later. Why're you so late to get up? You're supposed to be coming with me today. I thought you'd have been up for hours."

Ah, so that's what the nagging feeling was. Today was the day Vance was supposed to go with Leon into the market. Wait, no - that doesn't sound right.

Leon smirked a little as he saw realisation cross his little brothers face. For a moment Vance had looked worried, but then the behaviour of his eyebrows and the fact his mouth opened just a little gave away his excitement.

Vance's mind was suddenly wide awake, the fog of sleep instantly dispelled.

"Wait, Todays the day? The Arcanist is coming into town today?!"

"Yep, got it in one. I'm surprised you forgot about it, you nagged me for ages to bring you along." Leon paused to scratch his chin, though his smile didn't fade.

"To be honest it was a little annoying, I considered taking a few of those teeth out myself."

Vance was practically vibrating with excitement. Leon thought that he might've heard what he said, but the little guy looked so happy it wasn't worth checking.

"When are we leaving?!"

Leon helped Vance back upstairs, telling him that he should probably get dressed before going to meet one of the most powerful people in the world. Vance couldn't agree more.

When Vance closed the door to his bedroom behind him, Leon's facial expression soured. He wore a deep look of concern which he did his best to keep to himself. He knew Vance probably wouldn't be able to tell, but he didn't want to risk dashing Vance's hopes over his own petty concerns.

He didn't really know what to think. The alchemists couldn't help and the local doctors didn't have anything more to offer.

Could he believe that an Arcanist could cure blindness? honestly, it seemed ridiculous, but then again, it was magic.

Before he had too much time to think about it, the door to Vance's room opened up again and he saw his brothers smiling face, eyes closed, having opened the door with only one leg in his trousers, he was hopping in place trying to get the other leg in.

"Let's go, Leon, no time to waste!"

A warm smile crept back onto Leon's face. For now, he would allow for a little hope.

Vance didn't stop walking to shout out his greetings to his neighbour whom he respectfully referred to as "Miss O'thorn", though he did promise to stop by and talk with her soon. She was a sweet old lady and she'd recently lost her husband. He felt It was only proper to be as nice to her as possible, plus she would often gift Vance with apples - bonus.

Wethermane had a small market square which doubled as a meeting point for the village. It was the only place where they'd bothered to actually pave the ground, well - they started. The mess of grey stone bricks pressed into the dirt did indeed create a few areas of comfortably flat ground, though evidently consistency was more of a suggestion for the workers involved.

For this reason, Vance very rarely came here on his own. Navigating the mess of staggered stones was a nightmare, so he only visited the market once or twice a week with Leon or on special occasions, like today.

He brought no instruments to help him find his way, he typically didn't need them with Leon around. Leon had a hand gently clasped on Vance's shoulder and he held onto his older brothers elbow, the two looked surprisingly natural and walked at a decent pace even with Vance's impairment.

"Wow, there's one hell of a crowd here, Vance."

"Yeah, I can tell. All those feet shuffling in place. Are they all waiting?"

"No sign of any wizardly folk yet."

Occasionally - very occasionally, an Arcanist would see fit to visit small villages like Wethermane. They would promise to answer questions, offer advice and in some rare cases, they might even offer to use magic to help the villagers with particularly difficult problems.

Every trained Arcanist was required to perform this service at least once on behalf of the empire. Many did so begrudgingly, but a few performed these visits out of altruism. This was the scenario most would hope for.

The gathered crowd was of all ages, shapes and sizes. Leon spotted people he hadn't seen in the village for weeks had come back to make sure they were present for this event.

For the next hour, the crowd waited with surprising patience. As the appointed time approached, the conversation began to die down to a murmur. More than once the absolute silence left Vance feeling nervous. He could hear the excited breathing of potentially hundreds of people all gathered together waiting for the same thing he was.

Then, with absolutely no fanfare, he was there.

Vance could hear new footsteps amongst the relative silence. They were strong, confident. Though he didn't hear many of them and they began far too loud, had he flown here? Did he just...appear? Vance couldn't help but grip Leon's arm a bit tighter.

A middle-aged woman emerged from the crowd and approached the man, offering a deep bow and then turning back to the gathered mass. Once she spoke, Vance identified her as Lisa Kendrick, the mayoress of Wethermane.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Elijah Werthing, Imperial Arcanist and Distinguished Historian. I ask you all to join me in presenting him only the utmost respect during his stay."

She had a smooth, commanding voice which went well with her station.

With excellent timing and decidedly mismatched posture, the whole crowd lowered into a bow that they held for a couple of seconds before they rose. Elijah inclined his head to Lisa in response and favoured the crowd with a small smile.

"It warms my heart to have so many of you come to see me. I hope I can live up to your expectations and give you at least some of the information you seek." Elijah had an old, weary voice. He didn't look that old, but Vance certainly assumed he'd be in his eighties.

"He's actually got a staff, Vance," Leon whispered. "Like, a real wizards staff. It even has a little jewel at the tip, it's yellow."

"Really? Is it glowing?"

"No, though, it is quite a bright day, so maybe."

The first person approached Elijah and gave a little bow of their own. It was Ethan, the local blacksmith, Vance could tell it was him before he spoke because he was the only person in town who wore Sabatons. He'd once told Vance it was because he had a habit of dropping hot objects onto his boots.

"Sir Elijah, I run the local smithy and out here, I struggle to fund the operation of the forges, fuel sources are becoming more expensive and I know of no alternatives, I'd like to ask what advice you might have for me?"

Elijah stroked his modest facial hair for a moment and seemed to genuinely consider the problem, Leon considered this a good sign.

"Good, he's serious." he thought.

"Magically speaking, I would recommend you employ a small magical device we lovingly call a firestone charm. It's a pretty simple enchantment that we place on a small stone device. Put simply, it causes fires and other heat sources near the enchantment to burn brighter and hotter. In theory, this might mean that you can use less fuel per task, though I will be honest with you Ethan, I am no blacksmith. You will probably want to try it out and see if it is a suitable resolution. They are expensive, but if I am correct, you will recoup what you spend on the stone in a few months, assuming business is mediocre. You can probably purchase one of these in any Aedorian city."

Elijah began answering more questions, each of them detailed to the level he believed suitable for the people out here who had educational standards he would describe as "unfortunate".

Once he had answered perhaps four dozen individual questions, it seemed that most of the people had their answers, and were now just hanging around to hear the rest of the man's advice.

At some point, Vance had stopped listening. He was lost in his own head. The man was offering answers to all of these people but their problems were so mundane in comparison. Nobody in the village had asked about ailments or Injuries, neither had anyone asked any real questions about magic or its limits, mostly just advice on their lives or little tips for cost-cutting with a little magical aid like Ethan.

He felt like his question was stuck in his throat, was he asking too much? He was overthinking, he knew that, but if he offended him, then would he even consider his request? Was it even possible? What if he was displeased and decided t-

Vance was pulled out of his stupor when his brother suddenly pulled him forward a little. Vance noticed he had actually started to sweat, even in the sun he felt a little cold when the wind passed him.

"Leon, what're you doing?" he whisper-yelled at his older brother, whose grip was essentially an iron vice as far as Vance was concerned.

"I can see that you're in your own head, but time is running out. I know you're nervous, I am too. Do you remember what you asked me to do?" Leon spoke into the air in front of him as Vance felt himself getting dragged through the crowd of onlookers.

Vance was prone to anxiety like this and he knew it well. Weeks ago, when he'd made this plan with Leon he gave him an instruction, one which he was following now.

"If I freeze up, if I start to doubt and try to escape, or won't go through with it, I need you to make me. I might not ever get the chance to have an audience with an Arcanist again, I'm a nobody, I can't miss this."

Leon had given his word.

Leon felt Vance shudder in his grip and stopped for just a moment, though they were very close to the front of the crowd now. Vance had visibly shrunk inwards, reeling from the people around him.

"Vance, do you want me to ask for you? If it's too much I can-"

"No." Vance took a deep breath and took a few solid seconds to steady himself. He gently tapped his brother's hand twice to ask him to let go, which he did. Vance began to inflate again.

He could hear somebody on their way back from talking to Elijah, and he pushed himself through the front row and stepped out into the open space covered in messy stone tiles. Leon instinctively went to rush after him to guide him forward, but he'd seen such resolve in Vance at that moment. Resolve which he would never normally attribute to his little brother. He decided that he would not insult him by helping now.

Vance took 5 or 6 confident strides before he tripped on the first stone, earning a wince from the crowd. Many of them knew Vance and could foresee a terrible injury coming his way. Some people stepped forward to help but Leon made his presence known in front of the crowd and extended an open palm towards them and gave them a meaningful look, they stopped in their tracks.

Vance had lost his footing for a moment and smacked his shin into one of the stones. He stood straight back up, it'd bruise but he was fine. He was about to take another step forward when he felt a rush of air and suddenly he could smell some form of perfume or cologne and a textured hand with slender fingers gripped onto his shoulder. Vance faintly registered there was a little gasp from the crowd, maybe Elijah had done some magic?

"There's no rush, my boy." Elijah's voice rang out just a foot or so in front of Vance, who froze instantly and rushed to try and bow, though Elijah would not let him.

"Child I can already see the sincerity in you through your recklessness." Elijah gave a little chuckle and Vance flushed bright red.

"You have a question for me?" Elijah spoke with a tone like he already knew what he would ask.

"Yes, Elija- Sir Elijah!" Vance gulped audibly and opened his eyes which up until this point he had kept closed. His eyes were grey with harsh red veins coursing through them, they looked like the worst case of bloodshot eyes imaginable and his pupils were faded and white, hidden beneath the maze of red lines.

"Sir, my mother was poisoned when she was carrying me. I have never been able to see and none of the doctors or Alchemists has been able to help cure me."

Vance was still terrified, if he finished this question he would get an answer, from an Arcanist, the most knowledgeable people in the world.

With a deep breath, he continued.

"Can magic cure me?"

Vance spoke each word slowly like they were precious to him. In truth, they were. The moment after he spoke felt like it dragged out into eternity.

He felt Elijah's hand squeeze his shoulder ever so slightly. He heard the older man take a deep breath as he looked down on the boy who could be no more than 14.

"I'm sorry my boy, but I don't know of any magic that can cure your eyes."

Vance felt his legs fail him, and he felt Elijah's hand get left behind as his knees smacked into the stone below him. If it hurt, he didn't feel it. In that instant, the answer he'd most dreaded had struck him right in the soul, the crowd was deathly silent. He felt a tear run down his cheek, of course, that'd be the one part of his eyes that still works properly. He was about to force out a nod and attempt to smile at the old man when he kept talking.

"However, the field of magic is always advancing, just because we don't have a method at our fingertips does not mean that one does not or could not exist."

Vance was still reeling. It took him a moment, then he blurted out the only other thing he could think of.

"Then, could I learn? Maybe I could figure it out, I'm not very smart, but If I..." He trailed off, he realised instantly he was rambling about something he didn't understand.

"My boy, I hate to keep disappointing you, but one of the key factors when practising magic is one's ability to see mana. If you cannot see it, you will not be able to shape it."

Vance shifted as if he'd literally be struck with a hammer, and he slumped backwards so he was now kneeling fully, sat on his heels.

Leon began to walk up towards Vance, who raised a hand just like Leon had done for the crowd moments ago, stopping his brother in his tracks.

Elijah squinted when he noticed that Vance had heard the larger boy from a good distance away. He had barely moved. For a moment, he considered. An interesting thought occurred to him, though he was almost definitely wrong and there was very little possibility for success, the effort was minimal and he already felt terrible, why not try? It seemed like the boy needed something, even a distant hope.

"Mrs Kendrick, could I trouble you for a coin or some other small metal object?"

She hastily scrambled through her pockets to present a silver coin to Elijah, who briefly examined the coin before he clasped the coin between his two palms and concentrated for a moment, to his eyes, a flood of blue mana was drawn from the air around him into his palms, where he changed its nature from pure to metallic, then placed it within the coin, where he sealed it. It got a little heavier.

He poured more and more mana inside until the coin was on the verge of literally exploding from the amount he'd placed inside. A rudimentary enchantment with no actual practical effect, but quick to do and mana intensive, exactly what he needed. Plus, the crowd likely wouldn't be able to see mana, so they probably wouldn't know what he was up to.

Vance was gathering himself from the ground, thinking Elijah had moved on and was turning back towards the crowd.

"Hold, my boy." Elijah paused for a moment to allow Vance to turn back to face him.

"I may have spoken in haste. In truth, Arcanists could - in theory - eventually work with and shape mana without the use of their sight, however, I've never seen it done. All of the Arcanists I'm aware of heavily rely on their sight to shape mana."

He sighed audibly.

"I have little hope for this, honestly. If you can somehow sense the mana that I have concentrated within this coin, then there may be hope for you to learn. If my theory is correct, then learning via this method would be long and almost impossible. Ordinarily, I wouldn't even recommend an expert to try this, it'd be a waste of time. Do you understand why I'm saying all of this?"

Vance's face regained a little of its lost light. He was being told it was a long shot, it was almost impossible that he'd be able to master even the basics of the Arcane but there it was. The keyword.

Almost.

"I would like to try, Sir Elijah."

Vance firmed his shoulders, then took the coin.