If this man was truly so great, then it didn’t matter how tough his lessons were. With someone like him as Alistar's mentor, his chances of rescuing Kaila would surely increase.

“I see. When do I begin?”

“Tomorrow morning, first thing after breakfast.” Caedmon stood, chair legs screeching against the wooden floor. “You will go to the training grounds at the collegia and ask for Tramon Lawson. He should be expecting you. Now, if you’re free of any questions, I need to track down Alder and pay him a friendly reminder.” Judging by his expression, the interaction wouldn’t be so friendly.

Alistar stood as well. “May I thank you now?”

After a light chuckle, Caedmon nodded.

“Thank you, Uncle!” Alistar hugged him tightly, smiling as he received an affectionate pat on the head.

Walking to the door, Caedmon asked, “So, any plans for today?”

“After breakfast, I’m going to head straight for the Hanging Hill to attend Mr. Herst’s lessons.”

“Is that so?” Caedmon locked the doors to his study behind them. “Well then, be careful on your way. Be wary of strangers and make sure to return by evening. Oh, and it wouldn’t hurt to keep your locket out of sight.”

Though he didn’t understand why, Alistar agreed, and then hurried toward the nearest staircase.

When he arrived at the dining hall, he had to prod his cousin awake as she’d fallen asleep with her head on the tabletop. She awoke as if she were a disgruntled bear disturbed from hibernation. Not wanting to deal with an irritated Anice, Alistar avoided several kicks and lunges as he ran out of the dining hall with swift steps. He went on to the outer limits of the property, enjoying the fresh air and the wind-tickled grasses that covered the rolling hills that led away from the manor house.

Once at the market square, he stopped at a food stall for a quick meal of grilled meat chunks, greeting the salesman with a polite introduction. After the delicious breakfast, he found his way over to the Hanging Hill to find a lone Mr. Herst reading in the shade of the large trees atop his peculiar folding chair. Lessons weren’t set to begin for another two hours or so, but after receiving permission he stayed and soaked up all of the stories and information that the delighted old man could impart upon him before the others started to arrive.

None of Anice’s friends were here today, and neither was his cousin. He found a spot at the fore of the mob of children, directly facing the inverted man and the three young women that helped to oversee the lessons.

Alistar listened patiently to all Mr. Herst had to say, and was sure to raise his hand whenever he didn’t understand a topic or term. At first, many of the children took a strong interest in him, several trying to strike up whispered conversations in the midst of the ongoing explanations. Alistar thought this was unfair to Mr. Herst, however, and didn’t respond, though to be fair he wouldn’t have known what to say in the first place. By the end of the lesson, not only did the others stop trying to get his attention, they seemed irritated with him. Evidently, they weren’t too fond of his constant questioning and interruptions.

Once the snacks—scrumptious, sugar-glazed sweet rolls donated by a local baker—had been distributed and eaten, Alistar hovered around his lonesome plot of grass until all but Mr. Herst remained. The old man had said that he would teach those who were willing to learn, and he’d spoken true. There was joy in the man’s gentle eyes, and appreciation in his aged smile. He spoke of myths and legends, of the unique cultures of distant lands, and the awe-inspiring landmarks that attracted people from all over the world.

Before they knew it, evening had rolled around and the sun was completing its steady journey towards the horizon. As soon as he realized this, Alistar apologized for taking up most of the elderly man’s time. Mr. Herst assured him that it was no problem at all, and urged him to come by whenever possible.

Walking home under the clementine light of the lowering sun, Alistar revelled in all he had learned over the course of the day. The history of the continent was endless and mysterious, and filled with tales about amazing individuals that managed to alter the course of history solely through their own merits. He’d learned a lot more about Saint Limnin and Aglain the Betrayer, as well as the events that led up to the Inverted Wars and the changes that came about after its conclusion.

In order to appreciate the scope of the material, Alistar was taught new numerical values; that a million was a thousand thousands, and that when measuring the population of the continent, these values must be used. At the time of the war there had been over one hundred million people, those of all races filling the continent from corner to corner. By the end of the conflict, less than ten percent of that number remained, nearly all of them human. It was difficult to believe that there were so many people in this world, and Alistar suspected that the numbers he'd heard were grossly exaggerated.

Later that night, he hid away in the library and read up on the Inverted Wars to get a better understanding of what he’d learned today. Oddly enough, much of what Mr. Herst had told him was missing from the books that he’d dug up on the subject.

How strange, he thought as he stared down at the lantern-lit pages, it doesn’t say anything about The Flight of the Abdales. This was, as Mr. Herst described, the retreat of the Inverted Coalition, led by the survivors of the strongest kingdom in their alliance, to a great forest on the western side of the continent. It was there that the Drunish religion had originated. It was also there that the remainder of the Inverted races met their end, burned to death when the forces of man set the ancient forest ablaze.

Is that why he made me promise not to tell anybody about that?

According to the old man, the forest was so large that there were some who believed that it still burned to this day. Yet, this book mentioned nothing about the incident. As a matter of fact, all of the relevant books that he probed into told of how the demons turned on one another near the end of the war, decimating their numbers after their minds were poisoned by Drune.

Alistar decided that, if the opportunity ever presented itself, he would visit the remains of the old forest to see for himself whether or not it had been burned down.

Once he’d finished up in the library, he slipped into the hallway and found his way over to one of the large windows that were common throughout the manor house. The world was silent, painted in the ethereal glow of a waning moon that had suddenly emerged from a sea of cottony clouds. Thinking of all that he’d learned today, he reached out and touched his fingers upon the glass. Dozens of mountains dominated his sight, the largest also being the farthest, which was a testament to its size.

I wonder if that’s Mt. Barosh? He thought about the gruelling life that he had left behind, and also the people. As the minutes passed, his thoughts drifted, and soon he found himself imagining the scenes that might have taken place in the area long ago, during the days of turmoil that he’d recently read so much about.

It was difficult to believe that one of the most important battles of the war had taken place within the heart of the Tall Mountains. According to Mr. Herst, in order to buy time for the others to flee, a few armies of the Inverted peoples had held off the humans somewhere within the vicinity of Distan, which hadn’t existed at the time. It was here that Aglain had famously betrayed humanity by allowing for enemy forces to escape into the mountains. Following that day, the former hero was never heard from again.

Alistar was overcome with a deep sense of wonder as he thought about the Winding Road and how those wandering armies had built it when they were in the region. He had learned a lot from Mr. Herst, and appreciated his time, but pondered why the man had told him things that could land them both in trouble, especially when they had just met. Still, Alistar had learned to read the look in people’s eyes to a certain extent, thanks to a lifetime of being misled and misinformed by countless guards in Crystellum. For whatever reason, the elderly man trusted him to such an extent, trust that he would repay with his own.

Like this, Alistar resolved to visit the Hanging Hill each day to learn whatever Mr. Herst saw fit to share with him.