Flames danced on a wooden frame. A woman shouted as a man ran. Colourful bursts of emerald and crimson exploded in the air and shot from the ground, as the flames crackled all around...

~

The next morning, Rowan awoke with a pounding headache, doubtless the result of the copious amounts of wine that Darm had served him the night before. Following their conversation, Darm had launched into tales of his adventures with Tethis, using small illusions that had become steadily more extravagant throughout the evening to illustrate his stories.

Cradling his head, Rowan staggered to the washroom, dousing his head under cold water from the magical spigot. His dreams had been vivid, but fragmented, and already the memories of what he had seen were fading, despite his attempts to cling to them.

For reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend, he felt that what he had seen within had been important, but he could not say why. As his head throbbed once more, he let out a pained groan, splashing more water on his face as thoughts of the dream were chased away by a sudden, urgent need to relieve himself.

Drained, and feeling marginally better, Rowan did his best to clean up, washing off the dirt from their journey in an effort to look presentable for his entrance exam later. Five minutes later, a much improved looking Rowan emerged from the bathroom, his hair hanging limply to his shoulders as it dried.

Leaving the room, Rowan headed downstairs, hoping that the inn would be open for breakfast. It was still early, with the sun having only risen an hour prior, but Darm was already sitting at their table when Rowan arrived, nursing a cup that was giving off steam. Seeing Rowan, Darm waved, beckoning him over to the table.

As Rowan sat down, Darm pushed a mug of steaming liquid in front of him, clearly signalling for him to drink the strange brew within. With a slightly dubious expression, Rowan took the cup, raising it to his lips and taking an appreciative sip. Eyes widening, Rowan quickly took a longer sip, letting out an appreciative sigh as the warm liquid washed away the headache from a night of drinking.

“Stuff of the gods,” Darm said with a chuckle, taking a deep swig from his own mug. “I bet you can use that after last night.”

Nodding gratefully, Rowan clasped both hands around the mug, appreciating the warmth that seeped through the earthenware to his fingers. “What is it?”

“Tea,” Darm replied. “Specifically, Fall Winds tea from the east. A little pricey, but worth every single silver Dirrin if you ask me. Tethis isn’t as convinced, but that just means more for the rest of us.”

Taking another appreciative sip from his mug, Darm let out a satisfied sigh, lapsing into silence as they drank. Ten minutes later, as the leaves at the bottom of Rowan’s mug came into view, Tethis appeared, drawing up a chair and taking the proffered cup from Darm with a nod.

“What’s the plan for today?” Rowan asked as Tethis settled in.

“Breakfast should be ready soon. I saw the cook come in a few minutes ago with a nice package from the butcher we passed on the way here, which should mean bacon,” Darm told him with a grin, delicious fumes wafting from the kitchen as if to confirm his words. “We’ll eat a hearty breakfast, then set out north for Faebrook. It should take us about five hours to get there, which means we’ll arrive just before noon when the admission exam starts.”

Rowan nodded happily at this information, pleased to hear that they would be having breakfast before leaving. From what he could smell, the cook was preparing an absolute feast, and it would have been a shame to let such an opportunity go to waste. Fortunately, he did not have long to wait.

“Breakfast is ready!” a loud voice from behind the bar announced, a musclebound man poking his head out from the kitchen holding a plate of meats and fruits piled high. “Come and get it! One Dirrin a person!”

Moving quickly, Darm raced to the bar, his short legs carrying him there before the other patrons could react. A minute later, Darm returned wearing a triumphant smile, three plates balanced in his arms, each packed with thick slices of bacon, a helping of beans, two slices of toast, and assorted fruits, only half of which Rowan recognized. As Darm set the plates down in front of them, the trio dug in, letting out appreciative moans as they devoured the delicious food.

Half an hour later they were on the road, Karsolnia fading into the distance behind them. As they left the city, Rowan had felt a pang of nervousness, but he quickly clamped down on it. He had made his decision, and all he could do now was pray it was the correct one.

The scenery north of Karsolnia was green, forests of oak and ash towering above them as they left civilization behind. Occasional deer could be seen beside the road, peering at the carriage through wary eyes, bolting if it got too close. Darm seemed to find this regrettable, muttering about time constraints and venison as a particularly large buck leapt into the undergrowth. Tethis was unusually quiet, her silence even more marked than normal as she fiddled with her equipment, sharpening and polishing a selection of various blades and other weapons. Every so often, Rowan felt her gaze boring into him, but whenever he turned to look, she was engaged with her weapon maintenance. Chalking it up to another of her oddities, he let the matter rest, not wanting to provoke her on their final day together.

Final day, huh. The realization that he would be leaving Darm and Tethis behind in a few hours had not really sunk in until now. After a full month in their company, learning about fighting, cooking, and all sorts of other things, the thought almost felt alien, like a child moving out of their parent’s home after spending their entire lives within. Entire life, there’s some truth to that. Although he had not told either of his companions, Rowan was slowly coming to the realization that to him, this was a true statement. To him, his death on the streets of Taureen had been a real death. On that day, the old Rowan had died, and a new one had been born in Darm and Tethis’ carriage.

Feeling strangely nostalgic as he watched the surroundings rumble by, Rowan chuckled to himself. Although he may have only been ‘born’ a month ago, he had no intentions of making separation hard on his companions. He was mature enough to recognize the great favour they had shown him in saving his life and giving him new opportunities. No, rather than mourn their parting, he would do his best to prove that their faith in him was well placed. He would pass the entrance exam to Faebrook, and become a man that his benefactors could be proud to associate with.

As Rowan engrossed himself in his thoughts, the carriage left the main road, taking a fork that led northeast. Slowly, the terrain around them began to change, the leafy trees giving way to forests of cedar and pine. Mountains loomed in the distance, the road growing steadily less horizontal and more vertical. As the sun climbed higher, Darm pulled the carriage over, parking it beside a river that twisted alongside the road, the water glinting sharply in the sunlight.

“We’ll take a break for lunch,” Darm told Rowan as he climbed out of the carriage. “Then it’s only an hour from here to Faebrook.”

As Rowan started to help Darm with the preparations, a sudden tug at his shoulder pulled him away. Before he could protest, Tethis was facing him, her eyes sharp. In her hands, she carried a sword, twice as long as Rowan’s own, freshly sharpened and sporting a razor-sharp edge.

“Grab your sword,” Tethis told him. “We’re training.”

Looking to Darm in surprise, Rowan could see that Darm appeared unsurprised by this sudden revelation. “Go,” Darm told him. “I’ll be fine here.”

Casting around for a stick, Rowan spotted an object flying towards him out of the corner of his eye, turning his eyes widened as he threw himself to the ground, Tethis’ sword soaring through the space he had occupied only a moment before.

“What the—” Rowan sputtered, but Tethis cut him off.

“No sticks, we use real weapons today.”

Scrambling to his feet, Rowan drew his sword as he looked at the elf. There was no humour in her eyes, nor was there any malice. She clearly meant every word; today, they were going to train not with branches, but with sharpened steel. Gulping nervously, Rowan hefted his blade, dropping into a defensive stance as Tethis approached.

If fighting Tethis with branches had been nerve-wracking, then fighting her with actual weapons was truly terrifying. Experiencing a brief pang of sympathy for the Girscaw and other opponents they had fought, Rowan forced the thoughts out of his head. There was no room for errant thoughts when facing Tethis. For her, the idea of taking it easy when training was a foreign concept. If he exposed even the slightest hint of weakness, she would pounce on it instantly, hammering away at it until he fell.

As Rowan watched nervously, Tethis made her move, dashing forward with her sword held in front of her like a duelist’s sabre. Moving quickly, she approached, ruthlessly cutting the distance between her and Rowan to nothing in an instant. Almost carelessly, she slashed, her sword descending like a lightning bolt.

Remembering his training, Rowan parried the blow, knocking Tethis’ blade to the side as he looked for an opening to launch his own attack. Unfortunately, none was forthcoming. As her strike was sent wide, Tethis spun, her leg lancing out towards Rowan’s chest. Crossing his arms, Rowan received the blow, skipping a few steps back as he absorbed the force of the kick.

Before he could regain his balance, Tethis was upon him once more, her sword cutting, thrusting, and hammering away at his defenses.

If I just hold out until she slips up, I’ll have a chance to counterattack. Although Rowan told himself this, the truth was that he was not so sure that chance would come. Tethis had yet to even give him a chance to breathe, let alone make an error that would allow him to strike back. Any chance he might have had to attack was ruthlessly cut apart, Tethis obliterating his defenses with practiced ease. The only aspect of her offensive that puzzled Rowan was her reliance on the overhead slash that she had used to begin the fight. More than any other move combined, Tethis seemed to revert back to the swing, using it whenever Rowan gave her the space to do so.

As Rowan was mulling over this, Tethis’ foot caught him in the midsection, driving past his outstretched arms, which had been an instant too slow to block the strike. Flying backwards, Rowan rolled as he hit the ground, scrambling to his feet and raising his blade as he instinctively prepared to receive Tethis’ followup attack. He didn’t have long to wait. With quick movements, Tethis approached once more, her sword raised high in a now familiar stance. As it descended, Rowan raised his blade to meet it; however, this time something was off. Before their blades could meet, Tethis’ arms twisted, diverting the path of the blade downwards, across Rowan’s chest.

Letting out an agonized cry, Rowan stumbled backward, his chest throbbing from the force of the blow. Although Tethis had twisted her sword at the last moment, striking with the flat of the blade rather than the sharpened edge, she had not let up the power of the blow at all, sending three feet of tempered steel directly into Rowan’s ribs. As Rowan lay there, attempting to remember how to breathe, a sudden shadow was cast over him, Tethis’ face blocking out the sun as she knelt over his sorry form.

“Remember that strike,” Tethis said bluntly.

As Rowan weakly nodded, she stood up, leaving him lying in the dirt as she headed for the fire that Darm had set up. Surmising that the training was over, Rowan exhaled, slowly pulling himself up to a sitting position. His ribs were killing him, somehow feeling worse than they had when he’d had a knife stuck between them. Doing his best not to move in a way that put any pressure on them, Rowan climbed to his feet, sheathing his shortsword before tottering over to join Tethis and Darm by the fire.

Darm had been busy during their duel, grilling up a delicious section of vegetables as well as a sauce that Rowan thought tasted absolutely wonderful, especially once Darm had tended to his ribs with magic. Chowing down on the food, Rowan savoured his final meal with the pair that had taken such good care of him for the past month. Although he had known that they would be parting, it was not until now that the reality truly sunk in. All that remained of their time together was the short journey between here and the academy, roughly an hour through the wooded foothills that would go by in a flash.

Rather than say anything, Rowan instead devoted himself to committing every bit of this last hour together to memory. The way that Tethis moved, the manner in which Darm cooked, the small glances they shared, Rowan memorized them all, committing them to memory so that even if he might fail, he would still have these moments to remember them by.