The Skill burned in my head, almost physically urging me to be released. Combining the four separate Skills of the Elemental Keys had created one single Skill: [Key to the Wyld]. It span around and around, begging to be used. Other Skills needed to be forced, almost coaxed, into working but this one...this one would only need to be thought about once.

Why not, after all, why not now?

I released the building pressure in my head and the Skill took me away from the deck of the Raven‘s Nest, away from Ravenport, even away from winter and snow. Instead, I got yanked through a tunnel of light, through time and space itself, only that my mind was the sole traveler.

I flew with the greatest of them all, the Dragons of Life and Darkness, into a majestic battle in the skies. Pitch-black wings drowned out every light, answered by ferocious snarling, and a rainbow of colors spewn forth against the darkness. Where the darkness was silent and subtle, and yet crept ever closer like a promise of doom lurking at the edge of your consciousness, the Dragon of Life was rage, death, rebirth, and life, fighting like a being molded by the desperate struggle of every living thing.

As the dragons crashed to the ground, entangled with each other, biting, breathing their colored flames upon each other, tearing each other apart, I was there with them. I learned a truth, then. The Dragon of Darkness had not won. It had fled the light, fled life itself, crawling into the shadows under the mountain, while the dragon of life would never cease to be. Life just was. It may have died but the cycle continued and thus the darkness had been banished.

I opened my eyes with a scream of rage. I had felt the primal fear and anger just like the dragon had, or what my meek godling heart could take of the sensation without bursting, and I fell back panting as if I myself had fought a battle of life and death.

Darkness was just absence. Life just was and always would be. I had learned that much, profound wisdom, I was sure of it, and yet I failed to understand what it meant. To me, to my people, I mean.

Instead of the burning Skill, now there was a feeling left. One of direction. Life just was, and the dragon may have died banishing the darkness, but his essence never truly would cease to be. It was everything that came after him. The key led nowhere and to everything at once.

Life was a circle. And like the darkness I had awakened under the mountain, life would return to the most barren of soil, in time. Death was just a turn of the wheel.

And yet, I had seen the actual body, bones, and skin, of the actual Dragon of life with my own eyes. It certainly was dead. Could it be revived? No, that was not the lesson I had learned just now. Its death might have been final, but what it represented, its power, lived on. Waiting to be reborn, waiting for the cycle to turn.

My head swam and I stumbled back to my cabin, determined to not make any mistakes in rushing to a conclusion now. I needed to think this through.

The Skills affecting Ravenport and its people were in full effect and I loved it. No one noticed anything, the next day or the day after that, but I knew. There was a spring in the step of the settlement, people improving that much faster, work going that much easier, the weather was that much easier to stomach.

The most increase in productivity seemed to come from the less biting cold and the calmed winter winds, as the people much more actively left their shelters, working at the stairwell down to the Hidden garden, the pier, and on the training field.

I had a stupid grin on my face, one only a person could sport who knew more than everyone else.

The next day, in the evening, Valny climbed atop the Raven's Nest again, seeking me out. He had been thoroughly grilled by the questions of Veneir and, the stoic man‘s curiosity satisfied, had been reprimanded for his initiative with...sensitive topics. He came to ask for forgiveness.

“You are forgiven!“ I declared lightly. “You are the head of my...however you call what you are doing with your Saints in your homeland. You blessed the Raven’s Nest and allowed me to change things. You have proven your worth ten times over.“

After that, we spend some time until it occurred to me that he was [Stargazer]. The rest of the night was spent discussing patterns and methods of ... fortune-telling. He was able to navigate and glimpse hints of the future from the constellation of the stars. I hoped to learn something on how to apply my own methods better, me being a [Reader of Ill Omens].

Of all the things I had attempted to learn in my lifetimes, this all but eluded me. It all sounded like made-up lies, told around the fire when the ale had made too many rounds. Maybe it was this very barrier of non-believing that ultimately stopped me from seeing results.

Yet, time passed, and finally, three days after, the glorious sight of the sails of the Albatross, proudly billowing in the wind, appeared around the rocky edge of Shipwreck Bay. The messenger flags flew frantically up and down the mast, the meaning of course going over my head, but judging by the hectic work that broke out at the pier something of importance had been announced. I made my way down there, as eager to get news from our old home as the rest of us.

The Frigate drew near, and we could see the damage the proud ship had taken. The hull was seared and scarred above the waterline, and, most curiously, one giant scar seemed to have been filled with what looked like freshly grown plants. Even small, green leaves defiantly held onto the branches, despite being dunked into the salty water every now and again.

Sails had been torn and stitched together again, I could see reinforcements around a cracked mast and areas on the railing and deck where fires must have raged hot enough to blacken the wood. My worst worries did not have time to surface though, as I spotted my friend Thimotheus near the prow of the Frigate, gesturing here and there, talking to two other men who wore robes much like him, albeit different in color and quality. One wore a dark green, a burly man with perpetual anger on his face, and one wearing a bright brown robe and a somewhat absent look, and together they listened intently to the explanations of the red wearing Thimotheus, unfazed by the amount of shouting and running crewmen around them and on top of the pier they were approaching.

As the Albatross finally had secured the last of the lines, the three mages were lowered down to the pier on an elevator powered by the muscles of the crewmen on the ropes, and with much of their dignity intact, they walked off the ship. Only very good eyes would spot the relieved breaths both the brown and the green-robed men made upon reaching solid ground.

I approached them in greeting, Veneir at my side, and embraced Thimotheus in a brotherly hug. He was smiling brightly, his indomitable hair as wild as ever.

“I am glad to be back.“ He said grinning. “The last stretch was a bit, let's call it adventurous. If it were not for my friend Tur...that is Magister Magos Torvan here, who stitched up the hull in a pinch, we might have sunk.“ He gestured toward the burly mage, who seemed to enjoy the compliment, but not enough to lift the clouds on his face.

“That would be me.“ Torvan said. “I can’t say that I am happy for the dangers my students have been exposed to. I expect you to protect them with utmost care.“ He glared at me.

I raised a cheeky eyebrow at Thimotheus who just shrugged. “And this his Magister Skadellorn. Where Magister Torvan is a teacher of ... let‘s say plant-based magic, Magister Sakadellorn is an expert and researcher of...“ Thimotheus hesitated.

Magister Skadellorn smiled a little but friendly smile. “Transmutation and Enchantment. That is what was written on my door under my name.“

“And I will smack that damn grin off your face if you ever say plant-based magic again.“ Magister Torvan interjected angrily. “It’s called Botanical Manipulation and Infusion, you buffoon.“

“As I said, magical mushroom growing.“ Thimotheus laughed.

I just smiled politely, not quite grasping the dynamic of the group just yet. I very much did not want to insult any of them.

“Welcome to Ravenport, Magisters, I am very glad you came and very surprised.“ I threw Thimotheus a look of meaning. The weasel had failed to communicate his intention to bring colleagues of his to us. Not that I was not glad to see them, I would have appreciated some warning is all.

“I am Hannibal, called the Raven, and [Lordprotector] of Ravenport. This is Veneir, my Seneschall.“ Veneir greeted them with much more grace than I had, even if his voice had been muffled by the veil he still wore.

“I know all about you and people like you,“ Magister Torvan said, “noblemen thinking they know more than everyone else. Let me be frank: Do not mess with my projects and we will get along just fine.“

“Tortan!“ Thimotheus was shocked. “Your attitude is uncalled for.“

The other mage just ignored his comrades, smiling warmly. “I thank you for your warm welcome. To be honest, I want to start working immediately. The things Thimotheus has told us and the things I have learned already...“ His thoughts just tapered out as his fingers went to the amulet of Dragonamber that hung around his neck.

Magister Torvan just rolled his eyes at Thimotheus in the meantime. “Calm down. I just want to make my position clear. Nothing worse than...misunderstandings.“

“You have nothing to fear, Magister.“ I said decidedly friendly. “I am not known to meddle in the affairs of mages. I know when I do not know enough. Although I would be delighted to learn more about your plans and methods. After all, I need to ensure that you have everything you need.“

“What we do need is five minutes off this damn boat. Mankind is not made to be anywhere but on solid ground.“ He rumbled.

“Excuse us, Hannibal.“ Thimotheus said hastily. “I‘ll get them settled and come up to explain a few things. Veneir, old friend, can you help me find a place for them to work and live in? Them and 14 students?“

“You convinced 14 mage apprentices to come with you into the Wyld?“ Veneir asked with astonishment.

Magister Torvan snorted. “Not like they had a choice. They are bound to their masters by oath. Nothing to learn in that dusty old tower anyway. They will learn to like it. As will I.“ He said, much more silent as he looked around with displeasure as if what he was seeing was not to his liking.

“You will.“ I grinned. “Once you lay your eyes upon the Hidden Garden at the bottom of the chasm over there, behind the mountain we call the Needle. Never in my life have I seen plants like that, alien and strange, every last one of them, growing in a sea of salt.“

„Salt?!“ He sputtered, his eyes beginning to lighting up with an unfettered thirst for knowledge, his gaze wandering eastward even as Thimotheus herded them into the Wreckage.

That was the magical reinforcement, was it? Could have been worse, I thought, returning to my duties with a song on my lips.