“Sphere.”

Rane huffed, pulling and pushing at the mist, bending it to shape. It was like trying to mold clay that was starting to set, thick and inflexible. The gray sphere of nora shone through his fingers with volatile energy.

"Sword."

Forging the shape meant concentrating on each individual piece at once and holding them together. The heat grew in his chest as he pushed the nora around. He managed to form something that resembled a blade and Loric leaned forward, inspecting. “Make it sharper.” Rane pressed down on the edges, struggling to keep it all contained.

“Good.” Loric pressed a finger against the blade. “Butterfly.”

Rane glanced at him half in shock, but tried nonetheless. He formed a solid body and tried to shape the wings, but his nora dissipated into wisps. It had only been a couple of minutes but his head was already spinning and he felt flushed. “How does this help me?”

“Spells are useful in their basic form, but having control over your nora means you can manifest them in amazing ways.” Loric ruffled his hair and sat in bed beside him. It creaked under his weight. “Imagine a sword made of fire, a lightning bolt that can seek out your opponents, or even an icicle that manifests using your opponent’s blood.”

The thought alone shook him. “Is that possible?”

Loric rubbed his chin. “Possible, but difficult. Mages exert power over an area around them. If your control is significantly better than your opponent’s, you can even form spells inside them. This is why it’s important to work on controlling your magic, so as to not allow your enemies to manifest spells close to you.”

Rane nodded as he took it all in. Back in the storm of Leylin’s magic, that’s what he had felt. The man had squeezed his nora back inside his soul. He was about to ask about controlling Sydell's nora, but then hesitated. It'd be better to keep his past from Loric. Rane glanced at him. What would the man do if he knew Rane had taken a life?

"What's wrong?" Loric seemed to notice his hesitation. "It might feel hard for now, but with a teacher like me you'll learn to control your powers in no time."

"I'm just curious," Rane said. "How do you know all this? Are you also a mage?"

Loric seemed lost in thought for some time. "No," he said, pushing his palms against his knees and standing with a huff. “A man’s past is his own, boy. Don’t go asking too many questions.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I’ll tell you eventually…” Loric trailed off. He glanced at the snow through the window, tainted in orange and red by the last rays of the setting sun. "If we start now, we'll reach the top of mount Dorn by nightfall." Loric went through a chest by the door, tossing winter clothing and pelts at Rane.

"Finally!" Rane put everything on clumsily. Fitting his hands inside the thick leather gloves was a struggle, and Loric's boots felt too big, but he didn't care. He had spent the last two days in the cabin to regain his strength. Despite his protests, Loric forbade him from going outside until now. The Lanar would hunt during daytime, leaving Rane alone and desperate for ways to relieve his boredom.

"Relax boy." Loric stifled a laugh. He stood by the open door, scabbard already in hand.

Rane jumped outside, boots sinking in the snow until it reached his knees. He breathed in deep, relishing the cold that filled his lungs. Warm though it was, the cabin felt stuffy after two days inside.

Loric slapped the back of his head lightly. "Don't waste time." He pointed to a mountain in the distance, whose peak reached high into the sky. "That's mount Dorn. Do you notice anything about it?"

Rane cocked his head. "It's shaped like a fang?"

"No. It's really far away," Loric grunted, placing a foot in the snow. "Start walking."

◆

”Shouldn’t we do this when the sun’s out?” Rane glanced to his side, at the endless darkness spreading below. Loric led him down paths barely visible in the dead of night.

“There are few nocturnal creatures in these mountains, so we won’t be disturbed.” Loric carried a torch and led the way forward. “If you have the energy to talk, then walk faster. We’re slow enough because of you.”

“How much longer is this gonna take?”A guide and proper clothing made traversing the snowy peaks easier, but the distance they had covered was beginning to take its toll.

"We should be reaching the top soon."

Rane grunted, putting more weight behind each step. As they got closer to Dorn, he could see the dark peaks that filled the north beyond it, piercing the clouds like sharp spikes. Mountains so steep they'd be impossible to climb. "Have you been there?" he asked, pointing.

"No one has," Loric said without turning. "Too cold."

Rane stayed silent after that. He kept trying to discern shapes through the night. Something about the unknown drew him. He was so fixated on watching the cold horizon that he almost fell on Loric’s back once the Lanar stopped.

“We’re here.” Loric held Rane by the nape of the neck and pointed.

A canyon stretched out below, as far as their eyes could see in the moonlight. The steep and dark cliffs rose sheer from the ground, garnished with a white veil of snow. The giant palisades of solid rock scratched the sky, hiding spots of darkness between their slopes.

“Wow…” The breathtaking scenery made Rane nauseous.

“Are you going to admire the view,” Loric said and drew his sword, “or are we gonna fight?”

“Fight?”

“Think of it as a Lanar custom, if you want.” Loric held the blade even, levelled with his nose. “An introduction the old folks used. Rane only saw a blur before feeling the sword’s cold sharpness graze his stomach. He took a belated step back.

“The journey ahead will be rough. Let me help you.”

The sword pointed at him made it sound more like a threat than an offer, so Rane nodded. He’d given it some thought. Techniques and magic weren’t inherently evil. More than once he’d used them to protect or help others.

“Lesson one,” said the Lanar and distanced himself. “When fighting a mage, don’t give them time to complete a spell. So, as a spellcaster, what do you want to do?”

“Keep my distance?” Rane asked.

“And learn how to cast faster.” Loric assumed the same stance. “Again.”

Rane nodded and prepared himself for the Lanar’s assault, but the weapon’s edge seemed locked onto him. Despite his best efforts to dodge or sidestep the strikes, he was always on the receiving end of them. Loric’s accuracy and precision were almost frightening. The weapon would touch Rane’s skin but never injure him.

“Move your legs!” The Lanar kept shouting orders. “Predict my movements!”

Rane kept being pushed back as he tried to dodge and follow instructions. He bent backward to dodge an incoming attack and lost his footing. The snow served as a poor handhold and Rane found himself falling towards the abyss below. Was this the way he’d meet his end? Torn to shreds by his own carelessness?

“Mind your surroundings, idiot!” Loric clutched his leg.

“Help me! Quickly…” The looming darkness below was strangely welcoming. It offered a way out, a sweet release to those uncertain of their fate. A dissonance formed by wanting to meet the unknown and the instinct to survive. Rane experienced it as he dangled off the edge. His heart beat faster and his breathing became erratic.

Loric waited for a few moments before pulling him up. “How was it? Don’t you feel alive?”

Alive was the last thing Rane felt right now. Panicked and afraid was more accurate. He hugged the ground and panted until his throat stung from the cold. “You’re insane!”

“Worse.” Loric laughed and sat down next to him. “You’ve managed to stir up this rusty heart of mine. Do you know why powerful mages are scarce, Rane?” The man’s voice betrayed repressed desires boiling underneath. “It’s not a life meant for the faint of heart. You need the courage to face the world and the pride to wield it. You need to be greedy, to crave it all.” Loric looked up and Rane did the same. “Joy and sadness. Hope and despair. Love and hatred. Feel and experience everything. Use it to fuel your magic. Only those who have experienced all of life’s splendour can rightfully call themselves strong.”

Snowflakes drifted down silently, turning to water when they touched Rane’s face. Nature’s ceaseless dance continued, regardless of his thoughts. He knew that to be truly free and live without fear, he'd have to rely on his own strength. If that meant facing hardships and becoming a mage, he’d walk that path. No matter what, he wouldn’t let anyone take his freedom away again. Perhaps along the way, he could help others avoid that fate.

Rane looked up at the stars and then cast a glance at the horizon. The wind howled and dark clouds moved to its rhythm. He’d fight in his own way, without taking another life. And if the world didn’t match his ideals, he’d just have to change it too.