“Doctor Seoltrin, I think he stirred.”

Light flooded Rane’s eye, and the face of an old man filled his vision. He tried to swat the hand away from his face, but the throbbing pain had other plans. His whole body felt numb and immovable, and a sharp, stinging sensation pulsed back and forth in his head. Thick layers of bandages covered almost every part of him. The man let go and his eyelid shut again.

“It will be a couple of days until he recovers,” Seoltrin’s gruff voice sounded. “The external wounds have been healed, but he still has internal damage my magic can’t reach. Even for the Flames, this is just brutal. What are the archmages thinking?”

Right, the competition. He had won. He would have smiled if he could. There were footsteps, and the voices sounded further away. Through some struggle, he managed to open one eye. The other was still swollen and watering. The room he was in had walls made of dark stone, and a tiny window with a view to the other side of the arena. Rane shifted his body with difficulty, so that his arm didn’t hurt. Even the slight movement brought him pain. This was most likely the infirmary. Constructs stood guard on either side of the door, their eyes and bodies lit up with a blue haze.

Moments after the medics left, he heard a familiar voice “Rane?” Talah peered into the room before stepping inside. "You look horrible."

“Thanks.” Rane tried to speak, but his voice was barely heard. This fight had really driven him to the edge and the numbness had only now started to leave him.

"It's okay." Talah sat by his side and stroked his arm. "You fought hard, so you deserve to rest and recover. Veradin's disciple has already advanced to the finals. Now it's just the two of us competing in the semifinals."

Even being touched this gently hurt, but Rane didn't mind. Just having someone near him was enough. Talking strained him, so he simply nodded.

"There really isn’t much to pass the time in here." Talah looked around the room, frowning. Then her eyes lit up again. "Want to hear a story?"

Rane nodded and smiled, letting his head sink back in the warmness of his pillow.

“Okay…” Talah drew her chair a little closer. “It starts with a girl from a small Silyran border town, far from the capital. She was young and naive, but also happy. She lived there with her father, mother, and older sister.” Talah squeezed the fabric of her dress. “Then Andre burned it all down. Soldiers raped her mother and sister and tore down their home. Thankfully, the father had taken the little girl to the forest, to teach her about herbs and animals, so they managed to survive.” Talah wiped the tears from her eyes. "The father did everything for his little girl. She was everything he had left. But it's not easy to be a refugee among thousands… Driven from your home in a country ravaged by war. Soon, the girl's father fell ill and couldn't work for such long hours. It was her turn to provide, to make enough money to afford a cure."

“I’m sorry.” What else could he say? Her story was similar to his, but he didn’t have the strength to share it. The best he could do was listen.

Talah drowned her sobs with soft laughter. "Look at me rambling." She reached into her pocket with trembling hands, a vial of clear liquid clenched between her fingers. “I’m sorry, Rane. I truly am. I didn’t want to do this.”

“For what?” Rane shifted in his bed, pushing his back up as much as he could.

Talah stood and placed a knee on his chest, pushing the breath out of him and filling him with an opressive warmth. She brought the vial up to his mouth. “You're my next opponent, and this is my only way to win.”

“What are you doing?” Rane tried to scream, to turn his head away, but the sharp sting from his neck stopped him. His whole body drowned in pain, but his heartache was even greater. He tried to convince himself he was dreaming. Just the haze in his mind after the battle playing tricks on him. He used every ounce of strength he had left to turn, fighting off her grip. Talah held his jaw tight and pressed the vial's cold surface against his lips.

"I was right about you." A tendril of white mist grabbed the vial from Talah's hand. Atinas dragged her back and Rane sighed in relief.

Talah flinched, then laughed out loud. "Even in this, I fail…" She didn't resist. Not even as he pinned her back down on the chair. She sunk her face into her palms. "Just kill me already. Strip me of my magic or leave me crippled."

Atinas sat on the bed beside Rane. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Rane coughed out the word. He set his head back down and assumed the only position that didn’t hurt. He focused on controlling his own breathing and simply listened.

Atinas turned to Talah again, and the tendril wrapped around her retreated back under his robe. “I am going to do none of these things.”

Talah raised her head and looked at him with red eyes. “What?”

“I stand by what I said. You’re not fit to be a mage. You are disqualified for trying to harm another contestant outside of the competition grounds.” Atinas paused, tilting his head downward. “But it’s true that you are resourceful. Starting now, you will work for me.”

“I don’t understand.” Talah shook her head. “I- I failed.”

“Your methods were artful, and you didn’t let emotion cloud your judgement and stop you from doing what needed to be done. Those are skills I value.” Atinas’ smile was almost malevolent. “You lack focus and determination, but that too, can be fixed.”

Talah was red all over. She gripped the edges of her chair. “I don’t know what to say.”

Atinas placed a pale hand on the bedsheet covering Rane. “You can start by apologising to my apprentice.”

“You are the archmage’s–” Talah’s jaw dropped, but she composed herself. “I’ll say it again then. I’m sorry, Rane. I really didn’t want to do it.”

“Get lost.” Rane closed his eyes and ignored her. What was the point of it? He thought he had found someone to trust, but it was just a lie, a way for her to get rid of the competition.

“That will be all.” Atinas rose again, guiding her out the door. “I trust that you’ll stay quiet about what happened. I’ll contact you shortly.”

Talah simply nodded, casting a tearful glance over her shoulder in Rane’s direction before being driven out the room. Atinas shut the door behind her. There was a brief silence.

“What are you really going to do to her?” Rane asked.

“I am going to have one of my underlings train her,” Atinas said. “If she managed to make it out of that alive, we’ll be able to see where her true strengths lie. Before that though, she will surrender to you during the next round.”

“Does that mean I’m your apprentice now?” Rane didn’t want to dwell on Talah’s betrayal for too long. He’d grown numb enough to swallow his feelings and not let Atinas see. “I won’t even get to fight her.”

“To render her too scared to face you is an even more impressive feat,” Atinas said. “And yes, starting today you will be under my wing.”

“Thank you,” Rane muttered. “It’s twice now that you’ve saved my life.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Atinas waved his hand and a misty shadow was cast over the room’s window. “Your injury has delayed the finals, and I want to make use of that time.” He glanced over his shoulder, at one of the constructs. His fingers formed letters in the air again, spelling out the word “Come.” He pushed them gently against the construct’s chest. A gear inside its chest turned, and the soft azure mist inside the construct’s core was replaced by a deeper, solid blue. It spent a few moments in silence, before jumping forward and shaking its hands between a series of loud cracks. Rane jerked away, and the pain from his back made him wince.

“Ha, it always works the first time!” The construct spoke with a human voice, grasping its stomach as if it was laughing.

“Has rust finally found its way into your mind, Tal’Ren?” Atinas hissed. “Stop.”

Rane’s glances alternated between the two. “What is going on?”

“You must be the famous Rane.” The construct bent forward and extended a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Rane simply raised his eyebrows. He couldn’t move his hand even if he wanted to. “Famous?”

Tal’Ren’s featureless face seemed like it was frowning. “Oh, you are. Quite naughty too! You’ve caused a stir. It’s part of the reason I’m here. You managed to slip by my engineers in the walls, and caused a couple of incidents since joining the Flames.”

“Am I being punished?”

“On the contrary,” Atinas interjected. “You mentioned problems with your memory. Abiding to the king’s request, the archmage of thought is here to help you.”

Another archmage? Rane observed the construct a little closer, but found no difference from the rest except the color of the nora being deeper. For the Silyran king to show interest, he must truly have made a reputation for himself. In either case, he wasn’t in a position to refuse help. If his mind could be healed…

"Please," he said, pushing himself up despite the agony. "Help me." To learn what happened to his mother and to remember his sibling's faces, he'd bear any pain.

"Relax now," Tal'Ren pushed him back down gently. "You have spirit, but don't push yourself too much." The construct sat next to him and placed a cold palm on his forehead. “Ah, an empath. Your minds are always… abnormal.”

He could tell by just a touch? Rane felt the nora gathering in Tal’Ren’s hand. “What are you going to do?”

“Peer into your mind and share my visions with Atinas,” Tal’Ren said. “It might help you remember, but my magic will make you relive events vividly. Are you surely ready?”

Rane nodded. Tal’Ren’s nora pushed inside and a gentle warmth enveloped Rane’s mind. It felt like giving in to exhaustion after a tiring day. He grew hazy and closed his eyes. It was strange. He was asleep, but also conscious.

“Relax,” Tal’Ren said. “We’re here with you. Try to think back. What do you remember?”

The memories flooded him one after another. Intense ones were vivid. His fight with Danrith and Caelus’ pursuit through the city. They passed through his mind word by word, moment by moment. Then the remembrance faded as he remembered travelling to the capital with Linde. Random, intermittent moments without color or sounds flashed by. Fragments of memories his mind had chosen to discard. Fighting against Linde’s apprentice was vivid. Killing her was the most complete of all his memories. He remembered each and every moment, could almost feel her anger all over again. Being rescued from the snowy forest and taken to the cabin also rang strong in his mind, despite the time that had passed since. The glittering gemstone that called itself the aspect–

Tal’Ren flinched, pulling his hand away as if he had just been electrified despite his metal body. He spent a few moments staring into space as Rane woke. “What in the world?” His voice held a serious tone for the first time. He gazed at Rane long and hard.

“What is going on?” Atinas seemed anxious. “What was that?”

“Something that shouldn’t exist.” Tal’Ren took some steps back, inspecting Rane again. “An aspect.”

Atinas laughed, and it was low and guttural. Unpracticed. “You’re an interesting piece indeed, Rane.”

“This is unreal…” Tal’Ren drew closer, placing his cold hand on Rane’s forehead again.

The aspect’s soul had guided him. He focused on the memory and the darkness was lifted. Rane saw himself conversing with the gem. Then, the suffering began. Leylin, the storm, slaves, and their deadly trip through the desert flashed through his mind. Anguish, regret and despair endlessly intertwining. Rane winced as the memories flooded him.

“Just a bit more.” Tal’Ren held his hand.

The dark place surfaced next, where only survival held value. Sydell’s death, hideous tests and pain. So much pain that it had turned gray and flashed by quickly. Too much to remember. Perhaps it was his own mind that had buried these memories. They turned more and more dark with each passing moment, until there was nothing. Nothing except her voice.

“Mommy has to leave now, alright? Stay here.” she said, arms wrapping around him. “Don’t cry! I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rane did just that. He cried. She seemed so real, so genuine. Her smile hid the warmth he had always yearned for. The world was like a fragmented painting of dirt, trees and fire. One where only the model mattered. Yet it felt so real. His mother had been brought to life using Tal’Ren’s magic and Rane saw the tiny boy of only seven years in her arms. He saw the light that bound him in place and the figure approaching behind her.

“You promised me,” she said and turned her head to face Rane. The real Rane. “You promised you’d be different.”

Cold shock washed over him and he staggered over the weight of her words. “I… I had to. Please–”

“Look at me!” The sword tore through her chest violently, painting her dress. “You killed them!” Blood gushed from her mouth. “Two people are now go–”

Tal’Ren retrieved his hand and the memory faded. Rane was left panting, one hand on his chest and the other grasping his head. What had he seen? He looked around the room, trying to get his bearings.

“What happened? Why did it stop?” Atinas’ voice pulled him back to reality.

“By the Arbiter...” Tal’Ren stared at him for the longest time as he calmed. Rane couldn’t tell what the archmage was thinking. Was it even possible for the construct’s face to betray any emotion? “He is still alive. Leylin is still alive.”

“You know him?” Rane asked.

“Not like this.” Tal’Ren looked down at his chest and metallic hands. “He is nothing like I remember. He was only a hermit when I met him, back when I was still human. A lone researcher of magic and its sway over the soul. It’s thanks to his research and aid that I can exist to this day.”

Atinas pressed his lips together. “Then he is…”

“Yes.” Tal’Ren lowered his hands. “Immortal.” The word hung heavy in the air.

Atinas waved his hand. “We will discuss it later. There’s something more pressing.”

Tal’Ren’s metallic body clanged as he stood. “Caelus.”

“I’ve known that the bastard had no honor from the moment I saw him.” Atinas paced back and forth. “Just what is he planning?”

“Mere memories cannot replace physical evidence, but if we showed these to the Lawforge it’d put immense pressure on him. The scrutiny would limit whatever it is he is trying to do.”

“It would also make the death of my apprentice his highest priority.” Atinas shook his head. “We will do this ourselves, without involving Rane. At least not yet.”

“Then it’d be our word against his.” Tal’Ren tapped his fingers against his arm, producing a rhythmic sound. “The Lawforge is impartial, but who are the citizens going to support? The archmage that gifted them with luxurious homes and grander designs than ever before and who is involved in countless charities or an old man that has been hidden away for thousands of years and isn’t even human anymore? No offense, but you’re not the most popular either.”

“You think I care for public sentiment?” Atinas chuckled. “I will voice my concerns to the Lawforge. As long as it results in an investigation, I am fine with drawing Caelus’ ire.” He glanced at Rane. “What about Rane’s memories? Is that all we can see?”

“His mind has been torn apart,” Tal’Ren said. “Someone reached deep inside and wrought havoc. Rane is filling in the missing pieces on his own. That is why his mother turned on us. It was a manifestation of his subconscious trying to prevent further damage.”

“Well, can you fix it?” Atinas asked. “Help him remember who and why?”

Tal’Ren paused, then shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s gaps in his mindscape beyond a certain point, and whoever caused them had little clue how to control their magic. They wiped everything clean.”

Rane shuddered. It was just as he thought. The man with the silver eyes. He had caused this. “Is there really nothing you can do?”

“There could be one way…” Tal’Ren paused, probably to gather his thoughts. “The mage that did this was not skilled. There is a chance he didn’t reach deep enough to wipe out everything. The fact that you can still dream of those events could be proof of that. As long as you work with me, maybe we could restore those memories.”

“Perhaps. Maybe. There is a chance,” Atinas mocked. “When will you be able to know for sure?”

“The mind is a delicate thing,” Tal’Ren said, sounding disapproving. “It could be months until I can tell if there is hope.”

“I’ll do it,” Rane said. “Whatever it takes and no matter how long I have to endure.” There was nothing he wanted more than to regain his memories and reunite with his family. Even if it meant years of reliving the pain, he would be willing to do it.

“Don’t forget who your master is from now on, boy.” Atinas cast him a sideways glance.

“I’m an apprentice,” Rane talked back. “Not a slave. I can make my own decisions.”

“You have your freedom, yes, but anything that endangers you is my concern as well.” Atinas moved toward the door. “On that note, we’ve stressed you enough. Rest. Once you’ve recovered, we will leave the capital. I can protect you, but it’d be best to keep you out of the Nost family’s reach.”

“What about the Flames? I still have one more round to go.”

“There is no reason for you to participate. Apprenticeship with an Archmage is worth more than any scholarship.”

“What if I win?” Rane asked. “Won’t I get something from the Vault of echoes? Not to mention it will be easier for you to justify choosing me.”

“That is true, but you cannot win. Not against Veradin’s disciple." Atinas shook his head beneath his hood. "Maybe after I have trained you for a couple of years, you would stand a chance. But not now."

“You’re contradicting yourself,” Rane said, then added a belated “master.”

Atinas cocked his head. “How so?”

“You said I’d get a chance to prove you wrong.” Rane coughed and smiled.

Atinas simply grinned. “Why are you so keen on fighting her? You needn’t prove anything else.”

“I want something in return,” Rane said, pushing himself up with a wince. “If I win, you have to help me find my family.”

“Knowing when to avoid a battle can be just as useful as knowing how to win it. No matter how tempting its spoils.” The grin faded from Atinas’ face. “Regardless, I will think about your offer. Now rest. Me and Tal’Ren have a lot to discuss.” Atinas left the room, words already forming on his fingers. Tal’Ren took his place by the door and the color in the construct’s chest faded back to a lighter blue.

Rane turned on the bed with a groan of pain. The day had been bittersweet. A friend he trusted had betrayed him, and he had found someone to help him regain his memories. Despite it all, there was another thought that circled around in his mind, overshadowing the rest. He pulled nora to his fingertips and created fire. First he used his own, then Sydell’s, just so he could feel the temperature and power change. A question burned in his head, refusing to be pushed away. He couldn’t tell if it was selfishness, or if the need to know was causing him to lose sight of what truly mattered. Either way, the question remained.

Could he win?