Cateline stood in the classroom, next to the fountain that Aiora had taught her how to manipulate water. Simple magic, but magic she found joy in harnessing.

Leolina was at the corner of the room alongside Jaspar, whispering to each other with worried stares. Although Cateline was unsure what they were talking about, she could tell it was something rife with stress. Jaspar was waving his hands all over the place, only a few mutterings making way to Cateline’s ears for her to hear. From what she could understand, he was upset with Leolina over something involving magic—however, this was incredibly vague and mundane information. Everything about this academy was magical, meaning he could be upset about anything and everything.

Her finger traced the antiquated paper, each word placed upon parchment that raised in tiny waves throughout. It looked like it had been drenched, then dried, and drenched yet again by the rains of one thousand clouds.

The ancient text explicated how the pure energy of magic, or mana, seeped throughout the pores of the earth and gifted its grace to a handful of lucky children. Capabilities so powerful were given to the untouched and innocent, consequently dividing the humans who either envied the power or embraced its potential.

It apparently started with a woman, a human, who lived in the times where stories were still told by pictures thrown across rocky walls. She lived her life with so much power at the tips of her fingers, only practicing when she was away from her village, in the depths of the woods. Legend says she lived in this very region, the region of Ellixus.

Once the villagers discovered her power, they had her thrown off a cliff into what was now called The Emerald Sea, only to float along with the current and landing at the shore of the Emerald Strait. There, on an unmarked piece of land, a mage found her decrepit body and swore he would breathe her power into the land and make sure nobody would forget her sour fate.

That was the entirety of what Cateline had learned today—of some deceased girl from a few hundred years ago who was the root cause of this issue of magic in the first place.

She peered up at the duo through her lashes, watching as they silenced themselves with a hush. Jaspar turned his glare to Cateline, muttering one final line to the Mistress before storming out of the room, the only sound a gentle shuffling and her throat clearing to distract from the rising tension.

“I trust you have been reading well,” Leolina said, walking to the fountain and took a seat.

“I have,” Cateline said and returned her focus back to the book. “I have learned a lot about the origin of magic, but I am confused as to why I am reading about it as opposed to learning it.”

“You are learning it, Princess Cateline. You must know the origins before you can master the very energy that nearly got you killed. Another thing—I have yet to figure a way to break that protective spell that has seemingly been placed on you. We don’t want you burning away again, do we?”

Cateline pursed her lips. She felt that she would go mad if one more person mentioned the idea of her turning into a charred piece of meat due to her incompetence with magic.

“No, Mistress Leolina. We do not. Still, surely there are certain types of magic that require less effort. Potion crafting, or anything, really?”

Leolina let out an exaggerated sigh, nodding her head as she eyed the Princess up and down. Her eyes lingered on the necklace, causing Cateline to reach up instinctively to protect it from her judgmental stare. “Of course, there is, Cateline. But it is a risky game to play. We don’t know what type of magic is triggering this reaction, clearly ice is somehow slipping by the barrier. Just as fire, the most simplistic potion could create that visceral reaction within you to stir again. What are we to do if I cannot save you from your own undoing?”

“Perhaps its high time I figured a way to face my undoing, Leolina. I have hidden from my magic long enough. My parents have decided for themselves that I was too dangerous to keep on the way I was, and I have nearly offed myself because of my own ignorance. Why am I still running from my instincts if that’s not what I am set to do?”

“For a Princess, you are awfully misbehaved. What about magic do you wish to know, Cateline?”

Straightening her posture, Cateline cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders. “How do you cast a spell? I have noticed that I am able to use magic, but it feels like a state of numbness as opposed to intentional action. The tongue is foreign, and the words I speak are unnatural to me. How do I master this? I would love to be able to use my magic willingly, not in moments of danger where I am prompted to by some mystical, controlling energy.”

Leolina laughed. “You don’t learn the tongue of magic overnight, child. Who do you think you are, exactly? You need to learn how to set your goals, realistically, before jumping in such haste.”

Cateline frowned, her eyebrows narrowing together with a crease. “Leolina, you are forgetting who you are talking to.”

Leolina’s eyes grew wide, standing to her feet with a sly smile. “Forgotten, have I? Tell me, Cateline. How is that father of yours? King Airen, the almighty ruler of Axulran…”

Leolina tapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she ran her fingernails against the wooden shelves, searching for one of the books littered amongst the case. Cateline cleared her throat. She had not told a single soul about her ghastly trip to Axulran. The recollection of her being washed away in a wave of grief still shook her to her bones. “He is a King, that is all you need to know. He is leading his people to greater power, a better quality of life. That is what Axulran must achieve.”

Leolina turned her head to glance at her over her shoulder, “I see. Have you ever questioned at what cost, Cateline?”

“I beg your pardon?”

She hummed. “Everything is a give and take, such as magic. What was taken at the hands of power?”

Cateline stirred in her seat, folding her hands atop the table before turning her eyes towards the window. For her, a lot was taken at the hands of magic. A normal life, one full of courtships and finding her Prince. She never understood the life of a peasant because she was forbidden from exploring beyond her castle walls without her elder brother, Terrence. She was to be monitored, never to be left alone when others were watching.

“Did you have many companions growing up, Cateline?” The Mistress continued and reached for a book that lay on the top shelf. As she rested it on the table, dust flew into the air and coated the tabletop as it drifted back down. She opened it, flipping through some of the stiff, waxy paper and hummed a tune.

“Companions?”

“You heard me correctly, Princess.”

Cateline nodded, swallowing hard as her heart rate increased. Leolina had never frightened her before, and even in this instance did she not feel scared. She, instead, felt intimidated. Outmatched. Leolina was one of the wisest people she had ever laid her eyes on, and the fact that she was interrogating Cateline of her growing years was bold and daunting.

“Of course I had companions; it would be a depressing day if I met somebody who didn’t.”

“And what were they like?”

“Fine, I suppose. Good company...”

Cateline’s mind drifted to the idea of her dearest friend and closest servant, Alleyn. He spent his time teaching her, angering her father in the process. She knew so much about the icy mountains that surrounded her castle, what the creatures outside Axulran’s walls looked like, and what their purpose in Denzethea was. She learned that Axulran was, at one time, underpowered and weak. All thanks to the wisdom Alleyn bestowed upon Cateline.

“An ember, or a spark, in a storm of fire — waiting to ignite again. Axulran rose when all around them tried to suffocate the flames away.” The final words of her first and only mentor. To this day, she was unsure why he left in the first place, but it seemed his intent to convey such a powerful message before his departure.

“I know somebody who would be disappointed to hear such an insipid response, Catleine.”

She watched as the Mistress tore a piece of paper from the book, gripping it between her fingers so tightly that the pages began to crinkle and tear in her hands. Her words had dripped off the tongue like venom, coating the air with rancor. She had never seen the Mistress express much emotion beyond cynicism during her time at Lighthelm and seeing her unfold at the seams was unnerving.

She wondered what Leolina meant, who she was claiming to know from her past. Only a few people would have been around her age that spent their days within those castle walls, but only one would ever be deemed a friend.

“Who are you talking about?” Cateline asked, deciding to play the ditsy role.

She did not respond. She, instead, kept humming a tune. One so familiar it rang loud between her eardrums, reverberating between her temples and around her brain. She felt dizzy, each fluctuating note tickling up her arm like a spider, nipping at the surface level of her flesh as if to warn of a danger to come. Leolina walked towards Cateline, her golden eyes taking in the state of the Princess with an alarming smile. Reality was blurring into something new; the walls of the room beginning to shift into a rippling tide, the bookshelves now boulders. As she stood to her feet, the chair beneath her disappeared and suddenly, she was on sand.

As she twisted around, she took note of the rolling clouds and the hazy fog. She was on unaccustomed land, the only familiarity the icy peaks miles and miles away. As she turned to a group of thudding feet, she let out a scream as men collided into her. She was untouched, a ghost of her current-self walking along the beach where warriors rushed towards battle. Letting out a pant, she reached out for one of the men as he tripped beneath his metal boot, falling into the sand before collecting himself. Nothing could touch her; she was no more existent on this plane than a one-eyed, golden dragon.

Once catching onto the reality of the situation, that she was in no danger and was, again, a bystander, she began to chase after the militia. They were armored with silver plates of metal, pointy helmets bouncing around their head as they made headway towards the front lines. On the other side was a thin line of men and women, staring down the brigade without fear. They all held hands; their eyes set on their sure death.

Cateline hollered out, as if these men and women could hear her. Eyes landing on a younger man in the middle, she could not help but notice how wide his eyes were and how the terror made his limbs shake. To his right was a woman with golden eyes, older in age with wrinkles around the corners of her lips. As Cateline approached them and watched as the growing army made way with caution, their hands lit up and up towards the sky. Like shocks of lightning, blues and greens darted into the heavens before returning onto the ground in a tremor. The men fell back as massive pits formed into the dirt, some men turning to ash as the bolts made contact with their metal exterior.

Although she could not communicate with the men in pursuit, she could feel Denzethea scream out with each bolt. She lost her balance, falling as she tried to step away from the fissures that divided the region.

The cries pierced into her ears like a blade to the heart, creating a visceral reaction to curl on the ground she collapsed too. What was once lightning was now fire, engulfing around her and the men that were collapsing to their knees. They each begged for their wives and children, for their lives to be spared. Each of these pleas were answered with silence, the hundreds of men that had once passed her by on the beach below the hill now all fallen and charred.

Once the silence grew apparent, Cateline let out a sob and lifted her gaze. To her right was a man split in half, his brains scattered around the battleground, and his skin blackened to a crisp. To her left was another man, only the legs of his body remaining to be burned as the fire consumed him. Standing to her feet, she noticed how artificial the flames were. Instead of consuming each particle of dry grass, only to die on the sandy shores, she watched as the flames slipped around like a snake in pursuit of the soldiers. Once they were burned, the flame moved to the next.

Turning to the line of men and women, she noticed something that had been covered by her initial fear. While the man and woman still stood side by side, their hands radiating with power, Cateline saw a duplicate. A copy of the duo at the very end, only this time their expressions that of stone. Cold, and unmoving.

Standing to her feet, Cateline sobbed as she stepped over the decaying bodies, pinching her nose from the smell of burned skin. She wanted to scream out, to let somebody know that amid the smoke and blaze was a Princess needing to be saved.

Her chokes were caught in her throat as she pushed through the smoke, catching closer sight of that woman. With those golden eyes and silvery hair, she felt a wave of nausea overwhelm her senses. Although she was invisible to this realm, she felt the cold stare set on her, watching as she stumbled closer. Each of their lips moved in sync, all chanting the same thing except the woman in the middle.

“Axulran to be freed, set ablaze with heed,” they chanted. The woman smiled towards Cateline, turning her stare to the younger man that had been trembling before the fight had been won.

Almost unrecognizable, she mistook him as a stranger. But, within an instance, her head pounded, and she fell to her knees, letting out a scream so loud it could outweigh the cries of war that bled throughout the battlefield. When she looked back up, the woman was whispering something beneath her breath and twisting her fingers in the air. The man, who was once young and able, grew aged, with a beard so comfortable and welcoming it almost brought a smile to her pained face.

Before her, with almost emotionless eyes, was the depiction of Alleyn as a young warrior, standing next to Leolina who was impossibly aged compared to her first mentor. As she yelled, screaming for Leolina to spare her mind, two walls of fire slithered towards her, only stopping once she was consumed by the flames.