Rane regained consciousness shivering. He was alive, lying in a puddle of warm water and mud. Around him, smooth stone of a cavern mixed with translucent ice that let in sunlight from above. A long tunnel striped with many different shades of blue, white, and inky black stretched out before him. He jerked his head around, looking for Leylin or the slaves or the wagon. They were nowhere to be seen. It hadn’t been a dream.

“Yes!” He screamed on the top of his lungs, drawing it out until it hurt. His hands curled over the snow. “I’m free!” The words seemed a lie even to him. He glanced around again, fearing he’d missed Leylin the first time. There was only snow. Rane found himself laughing like a lunatic. There would be no more tests and no more torture. No more Leylin. It was time to start his life anew. A few deep breaths of the chilly air calmed him, and the white vapour of his breath faded into the air. This cold was proof of his freedom. Light blue nora lingered throughout the cavern, like clouds of mist.

“Thank you,” he called out softly.

Hurry, if you can. The voice in his head answered unexpectedly. We may not have much time.

Rane made to stand and his legs trembled from the strain and tiredness. Every step deeper into the cave made them throb with a numbed pain. Above his head, thousands of years of snowfall had coalesced into frozen waves. Whatever this place was, it felt quiet. Almost serene. He walked carefully, nearing the heart of the glacier where the dense ice reflected the light from above to form a blue aurora. A calming chill crept up to Rane’s skin as tiny, icy sparks of magic enveloped him.

“It’s you.” For the first time, the voice sounded in his ears rather than his mind.

Rane turned to find a glistening gemstone embedded in the ice, and vein-like webs of nora webbing out to hug the cavern’s walls. He let himself fall down on his knees to rest. “You saved me,” he said. “Why?”

“Because I remember you from a dream.” The gem glittered like the sun-touched ocean on a clear day as it spoke, waves rippling endlessly just beneath its surface. “I led you here in hopes of understanding why.”

“You’re the one I’ve been hearing… All this time.” Rane inched closer, almost captivated. “What are you?”

“We have many names. Some call us gods. Some call us ghosts. Your people call us aspects.”

Rane felt a shiver. One of the beings the ashfen worshipped was right in front of him, immersed in the icy walls of the cavern. “There are others out there, like you?”

“Of the hundreds we once were, only seven remain now. I can feel their pain and their anguish. The devourer of souls has returned, snuffing out each aspect he can find. I saved you in the hopes that you’d do the same. You have to stop him.”

“Leylin is after you,” Rane said, “and you want me to stop him? I’m no god, and I don’t even have a fraction of your power.”

“But you’re the only one he treasures. You are his weak point.”

“So you want to use me as well.” Rane felt the laughter leave his throat. “I don’t have the strength to fight him,” he replied.

“No... You should understand. You too have been tainted by his touch. If you come with me, you will have that strength.”

“I'm not fighting on behalf of anyone else, especially against that man.” Rane shook his head. Even if the aspect could teach him, he was simply tired of it all. “Thank you for saving me, but I can’t do what you want me to.” He had lived through torturers, the fury of the elements and two bloodthirsty, unhinged mages. All he wanted now was to regain his memories. Find his family and retreat to some far end of the world where Leylin would never find them.

The aspect paused at his uncertainty and the ripples in the gem calmed. “Head to the mountainside west of here,” it said after a moment’s pause. “You’ll find a home there.”

“You’re letting me go?” Rane asked suspiciously. “Just like that?” He had a hard time believing it. This… being, whatever it was, had faced a great risk to save him.

“Unlike Leylin, I don’t force others to fight for me,” it said. “I made you an offer, and you chose to turn it down.”

Rane felt a stab of guilt as he stood. “What will you do?”

“Leylin is after both of us, but he can only track me, it would seem. I’ll head to the far north in hopes that he’ll stop pursuing me. I managed to inflict some heavy injuries on him, but there’s no telling when he’ll be back.” The gem pulsed with magic, driving nora through the cavern’s walls. “You should hurry. The weather will be clear for you.”

Rane spent a moment there, gazing at the gem. Somewhere deep inside, a vengeful, aggrieved part of him wanted to fight against Leylin even now. The more reasonable side of him decided to take this chance to run. “I’m sorry,” he said as he turned.

The gem sunk deeper into the stone and the mist of nora around the cave vanished. Rane followed the naturally formed path outside, where a thick blanket of white extended in every direction, contrasting the sky’s pale purple hue. The winter sun had set behind faraway mountains, casting soft shadows of the trees around him. He cast one last glance at the cave’s entrance behind him. “Perhaps one day, I’ll give you what you want.”

Rane took his first step through the snow. First, he had to find the home to the west that the aspect mentioned. After enduring so much, he couldn’t allow himself to fall prey to the cold and the dangers that might lurk in the night. There was little to orient himself, but he did spot the steep mountains far in the distance.

Moving through the knee-deep snow proved more difficult than he had imagined. The winter’s frigid breath that had at first seemed mild, now numbed his face and extremities.

His thoughts kept returning to Leylin. Perhaps the aspect had managed to kill him after all. Rane was disgusted at himself for wishing it did. He wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life in fear of the man’s return. Wouldn’t have to worry about his brother and sister. He had to find them soon, warn them of Leylin’s threats. Rane was so consumed in thought that he almost bumped into a tree. Looking around, he saw many of them growing out of the snow. They lacked leaves entirely, and their barks seemed huge. Gnarly too, as if life had left them centuries ago.

A thick darkness soon enveloped the fields. Rane was only able to keep moving thanks to the lighting and heat provided by his magic, but that too was limited. He started to worry that the aspect had tricked him, somehow. That he was heading towards his own death, or worse yet, back into Leylin’s clutches. Either way, it was hard to know.

Shadows shrouded everything beyond arm’s reach and he could barely make out the shape of the trees ahead. Their long, shadowy branches towered over him like spectres. Animal howls sounded from afar, breaking the night's silence. He had to find shelter soon.

Just then, his eyes caught glimpses of a faint light as he walked, standing out in the darkness. The outline of a humanoid figure gradually became visible. It cut through the snow with blinding speed and approached him in a heartbeat. Rane barely followed it with his eyes. He was forced to a stop when the tip of a sword pressed against his neck.

On the other end of the blade was a man covered in thick leather and animal pelts. The light of his torch showed him to be shorter than Rane, stubby, and with a thick beard full of snow.

“Angrath nugatar?” The man spoke in a foreign tongue, his dry voice concealing a threatening tone.

Rane used the universal gesture for surrender by raising both hands high above his head. The man’s scrunched eyes visibly relaxed, but he didn’t lower his weapon.

“Who are you?” he asked with a rough accent.

“I mean you no harm! I– I just want some food and shelter,” Rane stammered due to the cold.

“Your Oath.” He raised the tip of his sword and pressed it on Rane’s scar, drawing blood. “What is it?”

“My Oath?” Rane trembled. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

The man inched closer, until Rane could smell the stench booze from his breath.

“I will definitely find a way to repay you if you help me!” Rane panicked and stepped back.

The man placed a palm on Rane’s head, made him bend to eye level and stared him down. “All right,” he grunted. “But don’t you ever try my patience,” he said menacingly, “or you won’t know how you died.”

Rane nodded his head and the man strapped his sword back onto his waist. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“R-Rane. And yours?”

“You can call me Loric. Can you keep up?” he asked. He shot a glance at Rane’s feet, which were painted gray and filled with blisters. Rane averted his gaze and gave no answer.

“You’re quite troublesome already,” he said before lifting Rane with his muscular arms. Rane was too embarrassed to protest, so he let himself be carried through the snow.

“Your body is scrawny, even for a human,” Loric said, with a hint of pity in his voice. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I don’t know,” Rane answered. “I can’t remember anything.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. The few memories he did have, he decided never to share with anyone else. Leylin tormented or killed everyone Rane ever met. The less others knew about that man, the better. It was Rane’s burden, and his alone.

“You’ll tell me the details later,” Loric said. “For now we should hurry.” He cast an enigmatic glance at the looming darkness on the horizon and hastened his steps. The moon had vanished behind the steep mountains and the howling echoed louder and closer.

Relying on someone else felt strange to Rane. He had always been alone, forced to preserve through hardship with his own strength or helping others do the same. Still, it wasn’t a bad feeling. Fatigue pulled down on his eyelids and the rhythmic movement of the man’s steps tempted him to sleep. How pitiful was he? He was about to drift off on his saviour’s arms, yet all he could think of was how warm the pelts wrapped around him were.

“Thank you,” Rane said, then let himself sleep.

Something had changed in his dreams. They were clear now, palpable. Emotions were laid bare on her innocent face. Her pain was evident in the crease of her brow and the curve of her lips. Golden eyes that had turned teary in an attempt to contain an ocean of grief. She left him behind with nothing but a lie. Was that why she cried? He could make out the finer details this time. His mother was beautiful, even as she died. She turned to leave, and he saw the blood that tainted her dress. Time crawled to a stop and the dream grew hazy again.

“You should wake up.” Rane opened his eyes to Loric’s haggard face and a sweet fragrance. “You’ve been asleep for a whole day. You should eat well and regain your strength.”

Rane nodded and his gaze rested on the cabin’s wooden planks for the longest time. The unfamiliar warmth and comfort of a proper bed weighed heavy on his eyelids, but he fought the craving to sleep. Animal heads, horns, and pelts decorated the tiny home, proof of the hunter’s mastery.

A gentle winter breeze slid through the planks and wafted a sweet aroma to Rane’s nostrils. Food like he had never smelled it before. The cauldron nested in the hearth received Loric’s undivided attention. Herbs and vegetables constantly left his calloused hands and vanished into the swirly motion of the broth inside.

Rane sat up on the bed. The threadbare clothes that covered his skinny figure had a musty smell and didn’t fit him at all. Still, for some reason, unknown feelings kept creeping up on him. The rush of adrenaline that had saved him and kept him composed for so long was gone. Emotions welled up and he spoke through the lump that had formed in his throat. “Thank you.”

“Hm?” Loric put out the fire and tasted the broth.

“Thank you,” said Rane and his voice broke. He stifled a sob, yet tears escaped his eyes like water flowing down a stream.

“Hey… Come on now, don’t cry! Aren’t you a man?” Loric reached over, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

Rane grabbed the man’s clothes, pressed his face against the plump belly and broke down entirely. He kept crying until no more tears would come out. His hands trembled uncontrollably as his mind tried to process it all.

“It’s okay. It will all be okay.” Loric couldn’t console him. He just stood there awkwardly and patted the shaking Rane on the back. That alone was much more than he had ever known. The constant weeping turned into a coughing fit, which made him pause and take in sharp gasps of air.

“Here.” Loric gently lifted Rane as if he were an infant. He sat him down on the crude wooden table and handed him a bowl of soup.

Warm steam rose from the broth to meet his red and swollen eyes. One spoonful was enough to remind Rane of his hunger, and he emptied his bowl in a speed that astonished even him. He took some time to calm down and compose himself.

“Tell me your name again,” said the man as he filled up another bowl. “Hard to get human names the first time.”

“Rane,” he said and paused. “I can’t remember my surname.”

“Damn, you must have hit your head pretty hard.” Loric laughed heartily and extended his hand for a handshake.

“Thank you for saving me.” Rane shook Loric’s hand and was surprised at the strength behind the man’s grip. It was firm, radiated safety. He looked up at the single horn poking out through the man’s dark hair. “What are you?”

“I am a Lanar.” Loric let out a drawn out sigh. “I guess they don’t even speak of Myljaberg any more.”

“I haven’t heard of it.” Rane shook his head. It felt like he had touched a sore spot. “Either way, I owe you my life, Loric.”

“Careful, human, of the words you speak.”

“But it’s true,” said Rane. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Can you destroy Andre for me?” Loric sighed and flopped down on an armchair which squeaked under his weight. His hand reached for his belt to find a flask.

“I could try.”

“Ha! You’re a funny one,” Loric said with the cork between his teeth. He pulled it with a popping sound and downed two big gulps of liquor. The stench of cheap alcohol made Rane wince. “Do you know where you are?” he asked.

Rane shook his head and Loric rubbed his eyes as he thought of the best way to explain. “Listen here… Rane.'' The Lanar used his name for the first time, albeit with some difficulty. “We are at the the Tonginth mountains, in the northernmost point of the Silyra empire.” Loric looked down at his flask and smirked. “The title of empire is only an ornament nowadays. The times of such glory are long past us.”

“What happened?” Rane asked. Did Silyra not even exist anymore? What about his siblings?

Loric scanned him over with one brow raised. “You messing with me, boy? You’re a human. Didn’t anybody teach you the scribblings?”

“My teachers had… different subjects they favoured,” Rane said. “If they’re so important, why don’t you teach me instead?”

Loric nearly choked on his drink. “I am no teacher. Even if I was, my tongue feels dry today.” He sighed and knit his brows. “To put it simply, there was a time when Silyra reigned over the entire world, an era that brought about prosperity through the use of magic.”

To Rane, this world and most of its history were foreign. The stories he’d heard from the slaves painted only the outline of a picture. If the man’s image alone could bring back some of his memories, perhaps his stories could too. He listened on attentively, looking for details or knowledge that could jog his memory.

“I remember the stories my grandpa told me when I was just a teeny Lanar. Tales of mages that could shape reality at whim. That seems like a distant past now... We're just a pitiful shadow of that empire, struggling to survive. The most recent war against Andre nine years ago almost wiped us out.”

Rane had heard of the war before, seen some of the soldiers that fought it too, but he never had a chance to ask. “Did Silyra… Did we win?”

“There’s no real victor in any war. There are only those who survived…” Loric smiled bitterly. “And those who perished. If it weren’t for Veradin, all humans would have been the latter.”

“Veradin?”

Loric raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t heard of Silyra’s first archmage either?”

Rane shook his head.

“He’s the sole reason Silyra can exist to this day. The most powerful mage to have ever been born, they say.” Loric’s voice hid some reverie. “More legend than man.”

Rane’s mind snapped back to Leylin and he winced. His mind couldn’t fathom someone stronger than that man. “Powerful enough to turn the tide of a war alone?”

“How old are you, boy?” Loric asked. “Do you remember that at least?”

“Twenty two,” Rane guessed. “Why?”

“Veradin was just eighteen when he wiped the western Andren division that had besieged Danira for months.” Loric seemed lost for a few moments. “I saw it with my own eyes and still doubted it. A single child took the lives of twenty thousand ashfen soldiers in an instant. In nothing more than a heartbeat. It’s no wonder that Andre surrendered after that.” He shook his head, focusing. “The common folk praised him as a miracle. A gift from the Arbiter. But even Veradin couldn’t stop Andre’s full force. To such a power, the loss of a division is negligible. And so, the best we could get was a flimsy peace treaty after swearing away land and gold. But peace cuts both ways. While not under threat from Silyra, Andre conquered every other kingdom that dared oppose them. Now all that’s left is tributaries with puppet governments, and Silyra.” Loric guzzled the remainder of his drink. “In the end, the only thing we won was time. Time to mourn our dead, and to languish.” The Lanar just sat there, quietly, eyes staring into nothing.

Rane felt a familiar sadness inside him. Loric was smiling a little, and his smile had a twist to it, like someone determined not to weep. The alcohol was not enough to keep him going any longer. Rane wanted to know more, but didn’t pry into the man’s past. He understood the burden of solitude himself. All the time spent in the dungeon and travelling with Leylin made him long for the company of someone like himself. Someone who could understand. “I can’t bring back the dead, but I can still be your friend,” Rane said.

“That’s what annoys me with you humans. You don’t know the meaning of the words you speak sometimes.” Loric chuckled. “Friends are rare and precious. Friends will throw themselves in harm’s way for you, and you ought to do the same for them. I’ve only had one friend in my whole life.”

“Sorry,” Rane said. “I didn’t know.”

“Well,” Loric continued, “we aren't strangers either.”

“Then, what are we?”

“It depends.” The Lanar rubbed his chin. “What do you plan to do now, Rane?”

Rane hesitated. What did he plan to do? He had to find his siblings, warn them of the upcoming danger. Perhaps he’d look for answers afterwards. Why had he spent those years locked up? What wrong had he done? Too many questions burned in his mind. “My brother and sister, I have to find them.” Rane looked down at his hands, resting on the wooden table. “After that, I want to try and regain my memories.”

“Then you can be my guest for now, until you get back on your feet.” Loric said as he scanned him over. “But don’t expect me to babysit you. You’ll also have to contribute when you can.”

“I will.” Rane clenched his fists. He couldn’t rely on others and sit idly any more. Not with Leylin after him. “Train me then,” he said without lifting his head. “Teach me how to use a sword like you do. I don’t have money right now, but I will pay you back. I promise.”

Loric knit his brows in worry and looked up from his bottle. “I don’t want your gold. Have no use for it up here anyway. Besides, I only hunt animals nowadays. My skills are rusty.”

“Mine are nonexistent,” Rane said. “If you teach me to fight, I’ll be able to help out a lot more.”

“Blights. You’re just a kid…” Loric muttered to himself. “Fine. There’s creatures in these mountains that are dangerous after all. I’d feel bad if something happened to you because you don’t know how to fight.” The Lanar gave him a gauging look. “What can you do now? Am I starting from scratch?”

Rane pondered for a moment, then clicked his fingers. Flames appeared suspended over his hand and Loric’s eyes widened. He almost fell off his chair.

“Endoranth,” Loric whispered in his mother tongue. “A mage! By the grand Arbiter, you're a mage! Have you sparked? What kind of spells can you cast?”

Rane raised an eyebrow. Loric seemed weirdly knowledgeable when it came to the arcane. “I know how to create fire and ice,” he replied, “but I’m still an apprentice.”

Loric mumbled to himself. He grasped his forehead and closed his eyes as he took it all in. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier you brat?”

“It didn’t come up,” Rane shrugged his shoulders.

“Hah! You’re an interesting one.” Loric chuckled. “Very well then.” He stood and put out the hearth’s fire. “Rest your weary body. When you are ready, we will begin your training.”