The next week was heavy with activity. Vance, exhausted and hurt as he was, took it as easy as he could. Even so, he found himself inundated with information coming from all sides. Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, Vance learned that Niall, one of the two that had been recovered from the demon's cave, had woken.

Since his waking, he'd been kept under close medical observation by numerous medical professionals that the McKinnley family brought in. Vance took this to mean that he probably shouldn't go out of his way to interrupt the young man's recovery, and he would get to meet him later down the line.

Leslie Sellanion, on the other hand, was proving much harder to wake. According to Nathaniel, she had been purged of all dark mana over a few days by his own hands. Even so, she remained unconscious. The consensus so far was that she was in a kind of comatose state, likely brought on by the mental and physical trauma of her long-term dealings with these demonic creatures. As with most things related to demons, there was no certainty in the accuracy of the diagnosis.

Nathaniel, being the team's forefront expert on demons, was the biggest contributor to this theory. He cited that he'd seen similar things before in years past. He lacked a proper understanding of the medical "why" but his anecdotal information was enough to reassure the rest of the Sellanion family. It seemed that, after some convincing, even Kaine realised that it was wisest to defer to Nathaniel in these matters.

And so, while all of this transpired in and around the house, Vance did his best to relax. He had things to do, questions to get answers for, but the timing was, for the most part, of little consequence. Each breath he took outside of that harrowing tunnel of blood and bones was a delight to the lungs and brought a smile to his face. It'd been a while since he'd stopped and appreciated simply being warm, safe and alive. His friends had been generous with their time and their visits over the last week and he'd wanted for nothing but perhaps a little more sleep than they would allow him.

At times like this, he relished the fact he was young. He was largely shielded from the prying eyes of the local newsmongers and politicians by the sturdy walls of the household and the devastating force of motherly protection that was Maddison McKinnley.

Outside of his daily interpersonal and mundane "struggles", Vance spent time studying his new core, and how it interacted with the world around him. His worst fears were made manifest when he realised the hard truth of the matter. He was, in essence, photosynthesising. He locked that truth deep away in his soul, for he knew it to be true, but it could never come to light.

"If the others ever found out..." he muttered to himself, shuddering with a little self-deprecating smirk on his face.

In terms of usefulness, this was going to be top tier. It meant that much like his fire core, his wood core would be able to replenish itself so long as he had access to light mana. It was much slower and less efficient than the rampant, chaotic, self-perpetuating nightmare that was his fire core, but the result was similar. It had taken him a bit of time to verify the "benefit" that came with a wood core, but he was sure that he was a little less hungry, thirsty and tired than normal. It wasn't a massive difference, a small percentage at best, but it was enough to be noticeable.

Vance stood up from his cross-legged position in his room. He felt a pleasant ache in his legs where he'd been sitting for just a little too long and stretched his body out. He was free of serious wounds at this point, though he certainly had some scabs hidden away under his loose clothes. He made his way over to the small wooden desk placed in the corner of the room and felt through the contents until he found a smooth wooden case. He fumbled with the latch at its front for a moment and carefully opened it, rubbing his fingertips gently over the curled piece of parchment on the inside that gave him the rights to his family home back in Wethermane.

This was, without a doubt, Vance's most prized possession. While the story of its acquisition would be something of an irritant for a while yet, he couldn't lie to himself. This thing was by far the biggest contribution to his family he'd ever made, and it felt really good. He picked up the box and slid it carefully into the half-packed sack at the end of his bed.

Vance had, just a few days ago, decided to head home again. With his priorities as they were in the moment, this came first and foremost for him. He counted himself fortunate that Vereece was so close to Wethermane. It made trips like this common, and not too dangerous. Vance didn't want to delay getting this deed, and some of his new wealth into his brother's hands any further.

So, that night, he set out for a short trip home. He'd let all of his friends know throughout the week and the McKinnley's saw him off with a smile and an overstuffed bag of supplies. He travelled on a cart with a merchant with an unusually vocal, and rather slow horse. Later, prompted by the complaints of the merchant's other passengers, he found out that the reason the horse was so overtalkative was because of a scrap of metal lodged in its hoof, which the owner had not noticed, or neglected to resolve.

When he checked with his mana sense, it only took Vance moments to notice. He was able to manipulate the metal mana to compress the object a little and remove it from the wound it left behind. This seemed to ease the horses suffering somewhat, and earned Vance a nice discount on the trip.

As per usual, once he was outed as an Arcanist and not just a rich boy out on family business, the other people on the cart became almost upsettingly more polite. The trip took the usual three days and on the eve of the third, Vance felt familiar, uneven cobbles "grace" his feet.

Vance breathed a long, contented breath. The air here was still thick with all kinds of horrendous smells and he loved every whiff of it he could get. He strolled the streets, doing his best to avoid notice. He didn't want one of the little village's blabbermouths to run ahead of him and warn Leon, that'd spoil the surprise. He kept his head down, a cloak up and puffed out his shoulders a little, trying his best to not look like, well, him.

It was pretty easy for him to avoid detection. He could more or less sense around corners and through walls, after all. Without running into anyone, Vance managed to sneak up on his own home. His confidence was soaring as he approached the door, then he majestically tripped over one of the hateful stones beneath his feet. He didn't fall, but his rogue-like grace was fumbled away and he took three loud, awkward steps towards the door before catching himself.

In a flash of indignation, Vance reached a hand out towards his apparent arch-nemesis, the ground.

"I'm so fed up with you!"

With a flash of willpower, Vance seized control of the earth mana in the area around him that comprised the stones and the ground and rearranged it. Starting at his feet, in a wave moving outwards around him, he flattened all of the cobbles into a smooth, uniform pattern. He went so far as to reshape the stones themselves individually so that they were as well fit together as possible. He had to stifle a laugh at himself when he realised how he must've looked.

"That's not a good look for a wizard, little bro. Nice tilework, though."

Vance turned towards the familiar voice of Leon. Vance had a big smile on his face and a little rosy on his cheeks, courtesy of his little magical outburst.

"You look smaller than before, Leon, weaker even," Vance said, purposefully turning to face in the wrong direction.

"You look dumber than before, Vance."

"How exactly does one look dumber?"

"You wouldn't get it," Leon delivered his killing blow by folding his arms, and turning his head to the side.

After a few seconds, the two gave a laugh, stomped towards each other across the now smooth stones and met for a hug in the street. After a moment, Leon pushed Vance back away from him a little and Vance felt himself being studied.

"Why're there scabs and scars on your... everywhere? You look like you've been in a war." Leon's voice got serious as he took in Vance's freshly healed wounds.

"I have an awful lot to tell you. Let's get inside, I'll fill you in."

Vance gave Leon a remarkably ineffectual push towards the door, and the two made their way inside, closing the door behind them.

Vance brought Leon up to speed on his situation. He kept some of the finer details a little vague. Seeing no point in overfilling Leon's head with information that was largely useless to him with any immediacy. Besides, Vance was eager to get to the wooden box in his backpack.

Leon was quiet after hearing the tale. Vance wasn't sure whether or not he was angry, but it was a safe bet. He wondered what words of reprimand he might hear, and whether or not they'd be like the ones he used to receive from his father. Instead of any of that, though, Leon pulled his chair over next to Vance and threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling him closer and moving him back and forth a little.

"Good thinking with the whole cave-in thing. Risky, but it worked out. Dad would be proud." Leon leaned his head a little further away from Vance after speaking, then continued. "He'd whip your hide seven shades of red for getting involved with all of this rubbish, but he'd be proud deep down."

Wordlessly, Vance reached down into his pack, which was by the side of his chair, and retrieved the little wooden box, sliding it over towards Leon.

"If anything, I think this would be what he would've been interested in."

"Nice box."

Leon wrapped at the side of the box with his knuckles, producing a satisfying knock.

"Open it, numbnuts," Vance said, exasperated.

Leon half scoffed, half laughed, and opened the box. He retrieved the piece of paper from the inside and read it aloud, quietly to himself. It was a fairly long document, and Leon wasn't exactly the best at reading. Vance didn't bother to correct him when he screwed up a few of the longer words, letting him finish.

"It's real, isn't it?" Leon asked in a matter of fact way that needed no real answer, with a little disbelief hidden in his voice.

"Yeah," Vance answered anyway.

"How did y-"

"Some noble kid beat the snot out of me. Then, later on, after it turned out he was under the influence of a demon, and not just an asshole, he gave me this and a big bag of gold to say sorry, so that I wouldn't get him whipped."

"...huh." Leon clearly didn't really know what to say to that frankly absurd sentence. "Vance, I don't think you know what this means..." he paused for a moment, collecting himself before he continued. His voice got low.

"I've been doing alright without you and dad around but I'd be lying if I said I was doing particularly well, money-wise. Marcus is on my ass nearly every other week. I can only scare him off by being well, me, for so long."

"You don't have to worry about any of that anymore," Vance said, beaming.

Vance tore open the side of his backpack. From within, he extracted a carefully stuffed, string tied pack of carefully stacked gold pieces. He extracted several of these small stacks and placed them on the table, totalling close to one hundred gold pieces.

"So, this is for you. I couldn't bring it all, not on my own on a cart. Too risky. So, I brought this, and next time I'll-"

"Holy shit!" Leon exclaimed as he stood up suddenly, causing his chair to fall backwards onto the floor, loudly. It made Vance jump, but then start laughing.

"I know," Vance said, chuckling along at his brothers' outburst.

"Oh, I can't wait for Marcus to never see a single piece of this." Leon slapped a hand down on Vance's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You're incredible, you know that, right? This is going to be such a huge help..."

Vance expected to be flushed with pride at this point, and sure, he was. Even so, that wasn't his foremost thought.

"Thanks, Leon. I'm sure you'll make fun of me for this, but I'll say it anyway. I spent so long relying on you. You spent so many of your younger years taking care of me, keeping me safe, hell - you literally carried me on plenty of occasions. I'm still not really good at a lot of things... but this, this I can do." Vance gestured vaguely in the direction of the extravagant amount of money on the table.

After a moment of quiet, Leon responded with an upwards shift in tone and joy filling his voice.

"Make fun of you? Forget that! I'm making you dinner, moneybags!"

Leon proceeded to fulfil his promise and cooked a wonderful dinner for the two of them. All the while proclaiming all of the various ways and occasions in which he would tell Marcus that he could go and do unspeakable things to himself in the dark, or at home, or in the town square, Leon didn't seem to care for the location. The two laughed at Marcus' expense, postured to each other about what they would achieve with all of their newfound wealth and bantered and bickered the evening away like they always used to.

The next morning, so early that it was still dark, Vance took a little time out to visit a few places in the village, though he tried to avoid the people for now.

He hid secret gifts of gold at Miss O'thorns home. The lovely old lady had always been so kind to Vance, and more than generous with the apples she would pluck from her trees. Whenever she had some, she would share. Vance, now in a similar position, also opted to share.

He visited the blacksmiths, where his family's good friend Ethan had worked for so many years. Similarly, Vance left him a gift in the form of a firestone charm. He knew the smith already had one, but it was only a matter of time until he managed to break it, so he left him a spare. He also left a gold coin, in the hopes that Ethan would invest in a real lock.

He wandered through the currently empty streets, listening to the sounds of the local animals making themselves known to the morning, and strolled up to the centre of town. He'd never really travelled far, and the time he'd spent in Vereece made this place feel so very far away, despite its proximity. This spot, right here, is where his life turned around, and he'd never forget it.

He stood there for a while, just taking in the breeze in the open space. After a few minutes, he heard loud footsteps coming from not far behind him, and the rattling of metallic jewellery.

"Hey, Marcus. Long time," Vance said, without turning around. His voice was calm and paced out by deep, satisfying breaths. It was always easy to pick Marcus out of a crowd. Also, he was more or less the only person who frequented the streets at this hour, other than a couple of guardsmen.

"Vance? My goodness, it's been quite some time. You're a little taller than I remember, it's good to see you, I suppose. Are you still getting lost around here? I can help you home if you'd like," Marcus, as usual, sounded as serene as a bag full of angry cats.

"That's alright, thanks. How's Lisa? Did she tell you the news?" Now, Vance turned around to face Marcus. He put on his best smile and stood in the way that James always did, slightly favouring a lean to one side. He thought It made him seem relaxed and in control, which is precisely what he wanted.

Marcus was quiet as he contemplated for a moment. Then, he sighed and spoke.

"Oh, that. So it's true then, you have a deed for your land?"

"Leon has it, actually. I just dropped it off."

"So, care to share how exactly that happened? I know it was given out by the Baron, but they never told us why."

Vance could hear it in Marcus' voice. This had thoroughly ruffled his feathers. Which, of course, was excellent.

"Long story short is that I made something of an enemy, and, the longer story even shorter, he wanted to apologise after a few weeks," Vance replied, nonchalantly. He might have omitted a few key details, about how that enemy kicked his teeth in, and that it was a matter of noble politics that caused things to end the way they did, but that didn't sound as badass.

"...Right, well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. You and your brother won't be hearing from us for some time then. Good morning."

Marcus made to leave quite hastily past Vance, who reached out an arm to grab him by the elbow, causing Marcus to turn on the spot to face him.

"Wait a moment," Vance said, still calm.

"What?" Marcus half barked, and Vance let go of his arm.

"You know that we don't like you, Marcus. To be honest, I think you're a thoroughly rotten person. You're a lapdog that bites, you're rude and you more or less tried to steal from me when I had nothing else but a chance."

Shaking off his arm, Marcus was about to reply, furious, but Vance cut him off.

"Even so, I love this little town. Your wife, Lisa, does a pretty great job of running the place. I want you to tell her that if you ever need me for the sake of this place, just call, I'll help. I don't like you Marcus, not one bit, but I love them." Vance gestured to the town around him, mostly in the direction that he'd just walked from.

"And how, exactly, are you supposed to help us out, boy?" Marcus spoke with indignation. As expected, this self-centred man had no concept of what had changed in Vance, even after all this time. Vance was confident that there could well be rumours about him here, but he was perfectly confident that Marcus would ignore each and every one of them for the sake of maintaining a simple image in his head.

With a little smile, Vance spoke.

"Remember that coin you so desperately wanted, back when Sir Elijah came to town? Well, I don't remember precisely what you said, but you reminded me of the futility, and impossibility of my task."

Vance nodded sagely, almost as if agreeing with that long spoken sentiment. He took a deep breath, then tapped into the natural mana that surrounded him. He pushed his mana sense to the very limits and, using a trick he'd developed just a handful of hours prior, interfaced with the surface earth mana in the area around him.

With a huge push of his willpower, he instantly seized the natural mana in the area and smoothed out, redistributed and replaced the earth mana in the cobblestones throughout the entirety of the unpopulated town square. His control, speed and precision had the whole thing finished in less than thirty seconds, and put sweat on his brow and drained him of most of his willpower. Compared to collapsing a cavern though, this felt quite a lot easier.

He heard Marcus' loud boots readjust as his feet fell from their position perched atop several disorganised stones and landed on flat ground. He could hear the jingle of jewellery as Marcus took several quick steps backwards. Vance seized the opportunity to say exactly what he'd wanted to tell Marcus since the last time they'd spoken.

"Just because you think something is impossible doesn't mean you shouldn't try. What if you're wrong?"

Vance left at that, leaving a dumbstruck Marcus in his wake. He headed home at a pace a little faster than usual, perhaps a little giddy, and went straight inside. Leon must've heard him closing the front door, and called out to him.

"Vance, what the hell? It's like 5 AM!"

Vance considered his reply for a moment, then settled on his wording.

"I went to tell Marcus that he's a dick."

"HA!"