The Nautilus waddled to a small pier next to the gray rocks, getting brushed against the waves in the gentle morning sun.

There was a small workshop next to the rocks, with boats in the middle of a repair. Some fish nets hanged on the wall, waiting to be fixed after getting torn by a fish Deras had hooked some years ago. Deras brought them ashore to wait for the next fishing season, though the only one who had time to fish was Ymir.

Orel jumped to strap the ship tight and, after a few moments, waved to Deras that he did the deed. Once the docking was done and dusted, it was time to exit.

The passengers left one at a time, leaving Deras to attend the ship. Orel guided Norman and Andras towards his house on a stone pathway like a tour guide, though getting lost would be a challenge on such a small island. They could see around the island, yet it fitted three buildings and some trees. The grass was small and poorly grown yet blooming where the family had let it get wild. Norman could spot a house ahead after getting to the island’s center filled with long trees. It seemed two stories high, a loghouse teeming with the originality of old-fashioned DIY and unmistakable marks of both craftsmanship and errors. It was a mix of old and new, with modern additions like an antenna standing on the roof, jumping out of the design like a sore thumb. This was the family home of the Eislandrs.

Orel felt good about seeing home again and went ahead. Norman was in no rush but noticed something wrong with Andras.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing. My head, it feels a bit fuzzy...”

“I see,”

“No, no. It’s nothing.” Andras noticed Norman’s expression.

“Sure.”

“Come on, guys! We’re just there!” Orel waved to the two.

They arrived at the front door. Without knocking, Orel swung the door open as he was familiar. Tuja and granma Ymir looked over their shoulders from watching the TV on the couch. They were not expecting visitors today, and Deras usually declared his return.

“Orel?” Tuja stood up.

She might be a good mother, but like a mother cat, quite ferocious. While many would say Orel has his father’s eyes, by glancing at his mother, you can see where Orel got a pair of cheekbones and dimples, though you wouldn’t see Tuja laughing that often. While there may already be signs of age, you still would not mention them. She owns a local business on the coast and dedicates her time running it but sparing free time for hobbies and family.

“You didn’t tell your family?” Norman was ready to slap the back of his head.

“I called Deras...” Orel didn’t understand.

“We didn’t hear anything,” Tuja said.

“What’s all this chatter at the door? Get in already!” Deras yelled from the back of the group.

The group shuffled inside. Andras and Norman looked around the beautifully decorated interior. Colorful hand weaved and foreign rugs laid both on the floor and the walls, many small souvenirs rested on shelves and tables like in a collectors den. They ranged from statues to small figureheads, shields, drums, jewels, something new with every viewing. Of course, there were also paintings made by Ymir and Tuja and family portraits. Norman was most intrigued by the bookcase with exciting titles, though he couldn’t bother to ask to take a look.

“Deras! You didn’t tell Orel was coming back!” Tuja yelled.

“Wha-you didn’t ask.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Now, now, settle down,” Ymir said.

The two pulled back their anger. Deras sighed with relief that he didn’t get chewed out, though he could expect more later. Tuja switched her eyes back to Orel.

“Sweetie, what happened?” Tuja hugged Orel.

“I got into some trouble... “

“And who are these people?” Tuja glanced at them.

“That scrawny-looking guy over there is Norman. He’s a wizard,” Orel pointed.

Tuja was not buying it. Orel could tell, but there was no way for him to make her believe by just words. The only thing more burning than her temper was the love for her husband, and his absence could explain some of her frustration. Now her son brought home two strangers that looked suspicious beyond belief.

“Orel, honey...Be honest with me.”

Orel knew it was useless, but he couldn’t give up.

“He is!”

“And what? Then that person over there is a transforming beast?”

“No, I found him frozen in ice. He has no memories, so we took him with us.”

Tuja was silent. Norman felt even more awkward than the first time. Andras smiled but didn’t dare to laugh. Andras had nothing to say with his mind still fixated on the interior.

“Yeah, that was my first reaction, too,” Deras said.

“Well, at least you’re back home safe,” Tuja switched the subject.

“Yeah, we got into a fight with some bad people, and we came here for Norman to train me,”

“So he’s here to train you in magic, I presume...Is it dangerous?”

“Extremely,” Norman said nonchalantly.

Tuja turned back against Orel. Her face told everything, which was that Orel should send Norman out. Right now. It was a face not to be reckoned with. He called it “The hidden smile of death. “, one of the motherly techniques to instill fear of authority.

“-But, he shows promise,” Norman added.

“In blowing up or turning into dust?”

“Not exactly, but we’ll sort his...Unordinary feature. Hereditary, perhaps.”

“We have no magic.” Tuja threw the question out of the window.

“...How can you be so sure?” Norman asked.

He was looking at Deras, who himself seemed more than unsure.

Norman knew that magic strengthens in practiced bloodlines and remains an innate talent even if not trained, though it does get weaker. Orel’s reaction should imply that he had a connection to some form of practice.

Ymir walked over after overhearing the conversation. “I can say for sure that my family holds no connection to magic. Neither does it seem likely that the Rockenbells have it either. What we all would like to know is who are the Eislandr.”

“Do you have no idea where the Eislandr come from?” Norman asked.

“I would ask Emil, but he hasn’t been answering the phone,” Deras said.

“If you have some of his belongings, I would want to try and figure something out, but I can’t say for certain that I will find anything,” Norman suggested.

“Speaking of things. Orel, we have something for you.” Ymir remembered.

Ymir took out the scroll from a cabinet and laid it down on the table. Everyone circled it, with Orel right next to the paper. Norman looked closely as well, while Andras was left looking over their shoulders. Ymir opened the scroll carefully and presented it for others to see.

“This was one of Eli’s favorite items. The memoir paper.” Ymir explained.

“It’s blank,” Orel said.

“It could come in handy. It’s a map that shows your discoveries when carrying it, though only for you.” Deras said.

"Wow, can I really have this?"

“Very interesting indeed. I’ve heard of the concept, yet these types of items are rare among many things and quite frankly too quirky to be that useful.” Norman said.

He shut his mouth after Tuja stared back from misinterpreting his remark as an insult. Norman already felt unwelcome, like a rat appearing from a small hole in the floor.

“Let me fetch a look too!” Andras yelled from the back.

He moved over next to the table by pulling Norman out. Andras looked at the paper with sheer awe like a child opening presents.

“Is it that amazing for you?” Norman asked.

“All these places...Have I been in so many places?” Andras' eyes bounced around.

Everyone froze like rabbits in the grass. Not even Ymir could usher in a word. Andras wondered the map, not noticing their reactions. If any had drunk something, they were sure to have spat it out or started choking. Norman was the first to ask a question, not that he could shake the surprise any better.

“Did you own this map?”

Andras kept silently looking through the map, seemingly enchanted by sight.

“I don't think so."

“Do you remember any of the locations?” Norman asked.

“No, but I know which ones sound familiar. This place here. An. Ge. Ni. Si.” Andras pointed at a spot on the South-East part of the map.

“What’s that?” Orel asked.

“I’m not that familiar with that either. Orel, could you search for it?” Norman said.

“Let’s see.” Orel took out his phone. “Angenisi was what old Gineans called the modern-day city of Phyli, located in the southwest part of Nihssi.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Norman shook his head.

“It reads here.” Orel showed the screen.

“No, not that. Why is Andras using the old name of the city?”

“The map marks the places by what you call them. It doesn’t update unless you revisit it.” Deras explained.

“So, does that mean he visited it during that time?” Orel asked.

“Could be, either way, him using that name complicates things.”

“Why?” Andras asked.

“The old Gineans lived a solid one thousand three hundred years ago,”

Everyone looked at Andras as if seeing an alien or a character from a fairy tale. Andras had no idea how to react, nor did he think anything too much of the fact. For him, it was like finding out you had roots in some foreign culture. He did not need to be fussy about such a thing.

“I had no idea I was that old."

“It’s not only that. I had to do some digging, but now I got why you sounded familiar. You speak with a golden-age Zabad accent.”

“But that age was in the nine hundred century, or that’s what my history teacher taught,” Orel said.

“Exactly. That means that Andras must have lived for over a thousand years before Zabad, and then he went Swadia for some reason and got stuck in the ice.”

“You mean that besides surviving in ice for hundreds of years, this man is also immortal or something?” Deras asked.

“I honestly do not know."

“Is it possible to become immortal through magic?” Orel asked.

“There are a few ways to extend your lifespan, but no reasonable way for humans to achieve even near-immortal status.”

“What do you mean by reasonable?” Tuja asked.

Norman looked around, went into to kitchen, and came back with a sharp kitchen knife.

“Andras,” Norman called. “Cut yourself with this.”

The action startled Orel. Norman was acting strange, almost dangerously. He didn’t understand what Norman was going to do, but it seemed self-destructive.

“What are you doing, Norman?”

Andras took the knife from Norman and took a look at it. He knew what Norman meant with it, as he had a feeling about it since his revival. He was severe yet calm in his actions.

“Is just a finger alright? I don’t want to spill any blood here.” Andras asked.

“Anywhere is fine."

“Alright.” Andras placed the edge on his index finger.

A stream of red blood drained from the cut. Everyone had to back away while Norman observed intently.

“Take a look at it.” Norman pointed at the finger.

Steam was dispersing from both the wound and the blood. The blood was boiling, evaporating to thin air. Soon, before a drop could reach the floor, the cut was sealed as if nothing had happened. Orel’s eyes were about to fall off, but he was not the only one. Norman looked concerned yet unusually calm. Andras stretched his finger as if nothing had happened.

“His body, it heals itself?” Tuja said in disbelief.

“As I suspected. No ordinary man can survive being frozen.” Norman said.

“I already was thinking the same...” Orel said.

“Ay,” Andras pressed the wound. “It fixed me many times.”

“What is he?” Tuja stepped back.

“I have only heard legends of creatures able to heal all their wounds and live for a millennium. This is all too similar to Eli’s tales from his travels. Ah, It is as if I am witnessing a mythical beast right before me...” Ymir admired Andras.

“I am but a man, yet I cannot fathom what my body holds inside,” Andras said.

“I would like to see it myself, but I have no intention of opening up a man for that, even if he was able to heal himself.” Norman played with the knife.

“I would like to go back to that place, but I don’t think I can trek there myself.” Andras looked at the map.

“Hmmm. If you don’t mind waiting for some time, I am going past there.” Orel said.

“To where?” Norman was interested.

“Well, I haven’t decided on the order, but I am going to go past Nihssi.”

“Then where are you going after Väinölä?” Norman asked.

Orel answered, slightly embarrassed, as he already knew what Norman would think about it. Even Deras knew the dangers of going there.

“I should have guessed. I don’t need to tell you that you are going to have more of a bad time there, don’t I?” Norman sighed. “If we have already run into Magistrate, then going there is just asking for trouble.”

“What is this Magistrate?” Tuja asked.

“An academy of wizard cultists that kill people they deem heretic,” Norman put it bluntly.

“Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Would you have liked that I tried to dodge around the fact?”

“I guess you have a point...”

“Anyways, I would be glad to travel there with you.” Andras stretched out his hand for Orel.

“Then welcome aboard.” Orel shook hands.

Orel soon took his hand from Andra’s grip and let out a pained scream.

“Your hand is hot!” Orel tried to cool it off.

“He does seem a bit red,” Deras said.

“Maybe it’s a side-effect of your healing,” Norman suspected.

“Hmmm, I don’t feel any difference.” Andras felt his hands.

“What interesting guests we have here!” Ymir giggled.

“That’s one way to put it.” Deras sat down.

“Sigh, If those two are staying, they must stay in the granary,” Tuja said.

“A granary?! How are we supposed to sleep between all the wheat?” Norman asked.

“Huh?” Tuja was confused.

“I mean, a granary is for holding grain and food, isn’t it?”

“We don’t hold grain there. We use it as a storehouse from time to time, but it’s empty at the moment so that it can be used as a guest house.” Tuja explained.

“It’s nice and cool during the summer, but it also has heating to keep water from freezing,” Deras said.

“By the way, how long are those two going to stay here?” Tuja asked.

“Hmm, for a rudimentary course to cover the necessities of magic, I would give it about a year,” Norman said.

“A year?!”

“You must take into account that in normal circumstances, magic is learned as a school subject for a lifetime, and students are considered to study the basics for seven years. I wouldn’t mind doing it by the book, but I believe Orel can learn the most basic parts in a year in this situation.”

“Really?” Tuja was slightly impressed.

“I, Tobias Norman, am willing to take responsibility for teaching this boy. After I’ve taught him, I am sure he will only become stronger with practical training.” Norman swore an oath.

“Don’t try impressing me with some vows. A mouth can sprout as much crap as one’s ass. I want to see you perform this magic before trying to live off of our asses."

"Mom."

"Stay out of this, honey."

“Vey well. How about we go outside?” Norman proposed.

Everyone gathered around a nearby oak tree right next to the house. It was pretty old but far enough from the house that they didn’t need to cut it down. Norman stood by it, being able to be seen by everyone.

“Listen now. When I clap my hands, I want you to close your eyes for a second. You can open them as soon as you want.” Norman explained.

“What type of magician’s show is this? Are you going to make a rabbit come out of your pants?” Tuja smirked.

“You’ll see.” Norman grinned.

“Ready? Now!” Norman clapped his hands.

For a second, everyone closed their eyes simultaneously. As most opened them right afterward, they could not help but rub them out of disbelief. Norman was still there, but something else had changed.

“The tree is gone?!”

There was a hole right where the tree stood. No sign of excavation was there, and most obviously, it was not there anymore. No leaf or root remained from the grand tree that just a moment stood there firmly.

“What did you do?”

“Come closer and see for yourself,” Norman gestured.

As Tuja stepped closer, she saw that the hole split into smaller parts as if the spell pulled the roots cleanly with the tree. It felt absurd that Norman would have ripped out the tree so cleanly. Once she was close enough, Norman was ready to explain his trick.

“Touch it.” Norman held his hand against the air.

“What?”

Norman was leaning on the missing space without tumbling.

Tuja stretched her hand carefully towards the space over the hole. She stepped back as she felt something there. She didn’t know what was there, but it wasn’t just gone. Trying again, Tuja could feel the tree’s smooth bark and heard the leaves rattle in the wind.

“As you can probably feel, it is still there. If you would please keep touching it and close your eyes when I clap again, I can make it reappear.”

“Alright.” Tuja felt like being a stagehand in a magic show.

“Three, two, one.”

Without fail, as all opened their eyes, they saw the tree had reappeared. Still touching it, Tuja was now sure that it was there the whole time, yet she couldn’t see it.

“If you still do not believe me, I can show you something else.” Norman walked behind the tree.

“You can see that I’m still behind it?” Norman waved his hand.

“How about now?” The hand retreated to the other side.

“Orel, go check behind it,” Tuja said.

After walking there, Orel looked around the tree, circling once around it.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Of course not, because I’m here,” Norman waved from inside the house.

His voice made everyone turn their heads to the window where they could all see him, yet they were sure that they didn’t see or hear him go past them. Tuja was starting to get already sick of the tricks but had to play along.

“When did he get there?” Deras rubbed his eyes.

“I’ll go out now,” Norman walked towards the door.

The door turned open, but without anyone opening it. Everyone looked around yet could not catch a glimpse of Norman. Even Orel was amazed by Norman’s talent. It was like seeing a free private magic show, though all of the tricks were quite similar. Tuja was neither impressed nor having fun anymore.

“Excuse me,” Norman said.

“Something just touched me on the shoulder!” Deras jumped in the air.

Everyone saw that there wasn’t anyone there, but they did hear Norman’s voice.

“Now, now, I’m just here.” Norman turned around from the tree.

“Alright, alright. You can stop. I believe you. But you better not sneak up on me with that, or I will make sure you are the last one of your lineage.”

“You should listen to her. That’s not a threat. That’s a promise.” Orel said.

“I remember when Emil tried to scare her one morning. Poor brother needed to visit a hospital for a broken nose.” Deras said.

“Is she really that bad when frightened?” Norman looked at their faces.

Orel and Deras nodded in unison while Ymir silently agreed. Each had their horrifying discovery of the fact, and they would not rather repeat it.

“Alright, can you show me where the...granary is?” Norman swept off the cold sweat.

“I can show you,” Deras started walking down the path.

Deras went off with the two while Ymir, Tuja, and Orel went back inside the house. Orel noticed some footprints on the grass coming back and forth on the way there. He was not sure but thought that they might be Norman’s.

“Your room is just as you left it, honey,” Tuja reminded. “Which means that you must first clean it,”

“Sigh...alright,”

The last part of the day was the three’s meal for arriving from their long journey. Today’s dinner was some oven-roasted salmon with onion-gravy potatoes and fresh loaves of barley bread. Deras was served too from his long day at work, while Ymir and Tuja enjoyed the smaller side dishes as they had already eaten before. Andras and Deras laughed it off together while Norman peacefully enjoyed an excellent homecooked meal for a change. Norman thanked her for dinner and was about to shut himself to the granary when Ymir stopped him and offered him to look at the artifacts Eli had gathered with her.

“You might be one of the few people able to tell more about these than me and my stories,” Ymir explained.

“I would be honored to take a look at them.”

“Oh, stop it with the formalities.” Ymir blushed. “Be free to take a look at the books as well.”

“Oh, thank you.” Norman could not help but smile.

They looked through them for hours on end. Andras stayed and listened to Deras’s stories, which the lonesome sailor was eager to tell to new ears. Orel heard for a while, too, until he returned to his room to plan out his journey. Orel still didn’t know where they should head yet, only that they should probably stay away from Savmid, which is a shame as the next stop would head west near the border, effectively out from the north. He couldn’t devise a plan where they could continue on a different route, but he still didn’t want to come face to face with the two mages.

The first day had turned to dusk, and everyone had gone to bed. Orel and Deras slept in their rooms upstairs, while Tuja and Ymir slept in the two bedrooms downstairs. Andras slept well in the granary, while Norman absolutely did not. It had come clear that Andras was a loud sleeper, even with a wall between the two bedrooms. After finding some headphones, Norman was fast asleep as well. The island was filled with the sea breeze rustling the leaves and the branches whipping against each other. Distant waves could be heard calmly hitting the rocks as the last small glimpses of the sun colored the sky in shades of orange and purple. Soon, the stars would have their turn to light up the sky, but this time, no one watched them from the small island at sea.