"Any gods that might exist out there, know that I curse you for making horses the most convenient form of transportation," I muttered under my breath, shifting in my saddle for what felt like the hundredth time.

Improved durability aside, riding for a whole day straight was misery for an untrained horseman. I felt soreness in muscles I did not know existed, and adjusting my position did nothing to alleviate the aching.

They're not the most convenient. After all, you are a mage, not some common peasant, and you should travel like one. In Cortos' time, they flew through the sky or teleported themselves a hundred miles at once.

Glancing down at the black shape lounging in the opening of one of my bags, I shook my head before replying, "Most convenient mundane form of transportation. Teleportation spells are ungodly expensive, and I have nowhere near the mana to cast anything like that. And they had no real choice back then. Settlements were surrounded by untamed wilds and monstrous beasts, and walking from place to place was a death sentence."

True enough, but still. If we walked, we could have left this disgusting beast back in Volaris. It likely smells horrific for you, but imagine having my nose. Not to mention, you have that pouch to carry your supplies, which makes all these bags a waste of space.

"A teenager walking from one of Ferris to another without any apparent supplies might stand out more than one of a horse with a half dozen bags. Besides, I already bought the supplies, and there was not much point in not using them."

Excuses.

Glaring at Fortuna as he yawned, adjusting in one of the bags, I commented, "If you planned to complain the entire time, you could have just stayed back in Volaris. Last I checked, I was not a parent to a creature several centuries old."

A good thing, too. With your temperament, you'd make for a pretty terrible one.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of my nose, I did not respond, reaching into another of the packs and pulling out a map I bought before leaving Volaris. I was familiar with Ferren geography, but not enough to go without any sort of guidance.

Currently, I was one of several major roads heading south, the Seashore Route. With a half-dozen towns of varying sizes and a port city along the way, I had plenty of places to find lodging, but most of my nights would be spent camping. Even if I rode all day, pushing my mount to its limit, the trip would still take several months, at least.

There were around a thousand miles between Volaris and Ferris' southern border. I could reasonably cover twenty miles a day, should get me to the Great Dunes in two months. Of course, I had no intention of wasting that time doing nothing but riding and complaining.

In my packs were a dozen books on magic, including shaping and channeling exercises, which provide inspiration to improve Iron Forging. I was still only a Vapor, and there was no way in hell I could sit around at that rank for long.

Now that I was free to train without scrutiny and had managed to build up my body enough to withstand my mana, I could start progressing up the ranks. The next stage up, Mist, usually took six months to a year for the average mage without resources. After that, every subsequent advancement took twice as long as a general rule.

Of course, in practice, most mages would take much, much longer than pure math would indicate on paper. In that regard, I and every other Archmagus in history had a massive advantage. To properly condense mana to the next stage, a mage needed to gather enough in their core. If they did not have enough, the attempt would fail, and they would suffer a backlash, which could cripple or kill them.

For the average person, their cores were too small to allow for non-stop growth. Sooner or later, they needed to begin working to increase core size through either training or alchemic supplementation, which was a time-consuming process. The biggest reason why there were not more Archmagi was not because of a lack of commitment or talent but time.

I could not say for sure exactly how large mine was, but from what I knew of past Archmagi, they all could progress up to at least Drop without stopping to improve core size. So far, my training brought me to around mid-Vapor, but that was entirely too slow for my tastes.

"Alright, the schedule for the next two months is simple. Eight hours of riding a day, during which I will alternate between studying, practicing with Iron Forging, and training telepathy with your help. More overt magical or martial training will be for when we stop for the night, and I can ensure more privacy. Mages outside of the Academy are not strictly speaking illegal, but they are heavily frowned upon as a rule."

Sounds exhausting.

"Unfortunately, but without more resources, I have no real choice but to replace quality with quantity. There are training tools that might speed my growth, but they are not an option. Not yet, at least. I have ideas to earn gold and acquire them, but I am not strong or skilled enough for any of them."

My first week on the road passed without incident, and I avoided interacting with anyone else. I kept my hood up, gave only a polite nod to anyone I passed, and stuck to one side. As summer was approaching, travelers were once more streaming towards Volaris by the hundreds each day, far too many for my comfort.

Every night, I set up camp using the same defensive spells I learned for the tournament before getting to practice with my staff and my new gravity gem. Controlling its effects proved more difficult than I anticipated, and I felt the first hints of frustration at the near-complete lack of progress.

On the eighth night, I finally managed to create and hold a gravity field around myself for longer than a moment. It was only a few seconds, but that was enough to break through the first mental blocks in the process. Within a few hours of practice, I could maintain the effect for several minutes at a time. In an ideal world, I could keep it up for hours, only stopping to let my body recover at night, but that would have to wait.

Sleep came fast, thanks to a full day of travel and training. Unfortunately, it was only a few restless hours until I reawoke with a strangled gasp, covered in sweat. Rubbing my face, I sighed, letting mana pulse through my body before pushing open the flaps of my tent and stepping outside.

The sky was just starting to lighten, but I still had several hours until I needed to start out on the road. Sitting and crossing my legs, I closed my eyes, deciding to use my time productively. I had discovered a potential alteration to my breathing rhythm in one of my books and wanted to see how it worked with Iron Forging.

Trouble sleeping?

Fortuna's question broke my thoughts, and I glanced over at him, shrugging noncommittally.

"A little bit. Nothing important." I replied, returning to my measured breathing. Interesting. The rate of absorption was marginally faster. I would need to get the improvement down as fast as possible.

You are a better liar than before, but our mental link makes that a tricky proposition.

A flash of Flynn's face right before I killed him ran through my mind, but I pushed it aside with an almost imperceptible shake of my head.

"I have done what I had to do, and feeling guilt or remorse is useless. Changing the past is impossible, and crying about it is a waste of energy and focus." I responded, trying to convince myself as much as Fortuna.

As difficult as it was to say, the truth was that killing a person was not as easy as my training indicated. I knew objectively that I had to do it and would likely leave hundreds, if not thousands more bodies in my wake, but the reality of it was jarring.

Accepting the necessity of hard actions and feeling some remorse for taking a life are not mutually exclusive. You can have both be true.

"I never thought you would say as much. I assumed you would be saying I should walk it off." I remarked with a raised eyebrow, staring down at the cat.

He tilted his head to one side, staring at me for a few seconds.

You should, but I know better than to assume that you will.

Shaking my head, I ignored him, trying to remain focused on my training. In my experience, staying busy was often the best way to avoid dwelling on things that you could not change. When the first rays of sunlight peeked through the trees, I decided to start making my way along the path, eager to reach civilization.

From what I remembered, I should reach the town by sundown, where I could spend the night in an actual building. While that would be a nice change from the outdoors that I had begun growing used to, there was another, more important reason I chose this route in particular.

"A Study in Aether" had sat on my shelf untouched for months, but I had a fair bit of it memorized even still. Most of the stories and rumors in its pages were useless, but several I had bookmarked for future reference.

One in particular detailed a mage who stumbled onto a small oasis that sat atop a leyline. The researcher, whose name I did not bother remembering, suspected that a minor leyline somehow had ruptured, reaching the surface and expelling Aether, which gradually was absorbed into the surrounding dirt and water.

Interestingly, the water only retained the energy for a few hours, far too rapidly for transport back to Volaris. Worse, it had an Aether aspect and was useless for anyone who did not have the same element to their mana. Taken together, it was a strange phenomenon but not one useful enough to warrant significant investigation. Even the precise location was not well-known, and I only found a rough approximation in the book.

Still, the account was one of the best ones for my purposes, and I had taken some time over the last few days in Volaris trying to track it down. According to Academy records, the town I was now approaching was victim to an unusually high number of encounters from magic beasts. If the stories were true, with any luck, I would know within a few days. If I did not find it within two days, I would move on, but a slight delay for possibly saving months of training might be worth it.

A few hours from the settlement, I heard a yell from several hundred feet ahead, around a bend in the road. Casting out my senses, I detected several mana signatures, some far stronger than others. Pressing my heels hard into the side of my mount, I set it off into a faster trot, drawing and extending my sword-staff as I rode.

Rounding the edge of the forest, I spotted several canine creatures in the distance, similar to wolves but with thinner builds and sharpened faces. Though I was never a hunting enthusiast, I knew from studies that they were coyotes, empowered through the absorption of mana. More interesting was the unusually high density and purity of their energy, more potent than the average beast.

More interesting was the group of teenagers, roughly my age, but dressed in commoner's clothing. A few carried tools and had imposed themselves between the beasts and their companions. The largest commoner held a shovel with some blood along the edge, and I spotted a thick red gash on one of the coyote's sides.

Either these kids had gotten unlucky, or the stories about the settlement were true. Regardless, I had to intervene before this situation got messy. I was not one to let innocent people die right in front of me, and helping them might pay off when I reached their home.

I did appreciate a win-win situation, after all.

Pushing my mount from a fast canter into a full gallop, I adjusted my weight, ready to jump off when I got close enough. As the distance closed to just under fifty feet, I pulled on the reins as I leaped, rolling along the ground in a single, smooth motion. Without pausing, I pushed hard off my feet, running at full speed towards the four beasts, which turned to me lightning-fast.

The first was just a little too slow, and my blade slashed down hard at its neck, slicing through its skin and muscle with a precise strike. A second coyote snarled, bounding at me with teeth snapping, and I ducked low, dragging my weapon up and spearing it through the chest, piercing bone.

The near-fatal injury did not stop it from snapping its fangs at my face, trying ineffectually to close the distance and maul me. Twisting my weapon with a grunt, I threw the coyote away, just in time as the third and largest jumped onto me, pushing me to the ground.

Its jaw closed next to my face as I turned away, narrowly dodging its attack. When it chomped down again, I angled my staff into its mouth, feeling teeth lock around the wooden handle, wisps of mana dancing around the fangs, coating their edges. While this meant I could not move my weapon, it also kept the beast in place, which was fine by me. Reaching down to my belt with one hand, I drew the dagger before plunging it into the side of its chest, aiming for the heart.

With a shudder, it fell still, and I pushed it off, tensing myself to finish off the final beast. To my surprise, I found the creature staring at me from a half-dozen feet away, it's hesitant posture contrasting with an aggressive snarl.

Most magical creatures could inherently sense mana and preferred to consume it from flesh and blood rather than absorb it from the atmosphere. In this beast's eyes, I was a meal that could feed it for weeks. Still, I could see the creature's faint intelligence weigh the risks and potential rewards of trying to kill me.

In the end, caution won, and with a final growl, it turned, running into the forest behind it. I debated pursuing the beast for a moment but decided it was not worth the trouble.

Sighing, I flourished my staff, splattering blood onto the ground before looking at the commoners.

"Are you okay?" I asked, examining the group. There were three men and two women, all looking only a little less nervous now. The one with the shovel, who I suspected was an unofficial leader, stepped forward, nodding several times.

"Yessir, thank ya. We coulda killed 'em, but woulda got hurt doin' it. Owe ya a debt, my lord." he replied, trying and failing to affect a more formal tone.

Holding up my hand, I shook my head, replying, "Just passing through. Are you all from the nearby settlement?"

"Yes, my lord. From Thorndale, we are, sir."

I ignored the somewhat silly name, knowing most commoner villages were called similar nonsense. Considering Volaris was an Old Ferren word roughly meaning "Great Home," it's not like the nobles were free of such conventions.

"I planned to head there myself and try to find lodging. If you would like, I can give you all an escort and make sure nothing nasty sneaks up on you." I offered, trying to replicate the bright smile Leon often gave before remembering that my shaved head, armor, and weapon did not make for a pleasing appearance. I likely appeared closer to a common bandit than a kind traveler.

"Please, my lord, I wouldn't want ta trouble ya. 'm sure we can make it back without problems."

"No trouble at all. If it is all the same with you, I would rather we continue this conversation somewhere safer. I might have driven off those ones, but more could come at any moment." I responded, turning to my horse, which had wandered closer.

Hopping astride, I looked down at their leader, pulling up my hood and gesturing with one hand.

"I am ready whenever you are."

With a final look that suggested he was still not entirely sold that I was harmless but too nervous to say otherwise, he nodded, turning to his friends and giving the slightest shrug. A few hours later, we reached the sleepy village of Thorndale, nestled into the darkness of the woods.