‘I don’t get it… I want to learn about my house, but nobody wants to talk about it.’

‘Maybe they don’t have anything to say.’ Elvie was beginning to suspect Flynn was not the most positive person. But there was a level of truth to his words; she could feel it.

The final class of the day was based on simple spells and focus. By that time, Elvie found herself in a bit of a stupor. After having the run of the mill on Eldridge’s estate, to do as she pleased and essentially go where she wanted, the structure of lessons, the tedium of chairs and classes, which all of that contributed to a heavy fog descending upon her brain.

It didn’t help that Elvie wasn’t particularly interested, having been taught the lesson by Eldridge already. Focus, gestures, and words. How many times did you need to hear that?

The only tidbit of helpful information was a threat about the consequences of magic, delivered at the end of the lesson. But as several yawns overtook her attention, her mind refused to absorb anything else, and she resolved herself to question Flynn after class. She was sure he listened to every word, even if nobody else did.

As she left, a fair-skinned man Elvie didn’t recognise approached her and dropped a letter in her hand. ‘Some mail arrived for you today,’ he said with a shrug, turned and departed.

She rolled the letter over in her hand, seeing her name written in a curling script she immediately associated with Eldridge.

Several students fooled around while they waited – Anander focused his attention on wrestling other boys to the ground. Flynn had pushed himself up against a wall to read another of his long-winded books. He had a voracious appetite for any knowledge, whereas Elvie had targeted interests – if she liked the topic, she would read everything she could about it.

Elvie sat down beside him, turning over the letter Eldridge had sent. It must have been sent the moment he returned home, although she wouldn't have put it past him to have written it before they drove to the boat. She flipped the envelope and pushed her fingernail beneath the edge of a deep red wax seal. Whoever had carved the detailed leaping buck in front of two trees for Eldridge, had done an exquisite job.

The sight of the wax seal with trees lit a lightbulb for Elvie, a question she hadn’t yet thought to ask anyone. ‘What’s your tree like Flynn?’ He looked up from his book. ‘Mine was beautiful, and it must have been ancient, although I don’t know how to tell the age of trees. Oh, and it might have been my imagination, but I swear Elder smells like vanilla and cinnamon. Was yours the same?’

He twisted where he sat and pulled his cloak tight. ‘An Ash tree? Well… It’s green,’ he laughed.

Elvie smiled at his jest. ‘I was scared at first, but after I found it… I don’t know; it comforted me – looking back now, that is. I was a bit worried at the time.’

Flynn gave her an indecipherable look. ‘It’s not unusual to go and find your tree afterwards. I’ve heard some people say it gives them a greater connection.’

‘In the forest?’ Elvie repeated.

‘Any forest, I guess. I know you can find oaks right across England, and ash, and willow or holly, and so on. Apple has it easy. Who hasn’t seen an apple tree in an orchard?’

It dawned on Elvie that they weren’t talking about the same thing. He hadn’t been to the same forest – nobody would forget if they had. ‘Is it important to find your tree?’ she asked, scratching at the side of her head in confusion.

‘Well… If I’m honest, I haven’t found it yet. I’ve meant to, of course, but with all the learning that happens here, and the cold, you can’t forget the cold! With all of that, I’ve been busy.’

‘But surely you need to…’ She trailed off awkwardly, not exactly sure what he needed to do. Her experience was tied into her time travelling, and if she pushed this too far, she would have to start lying on the specific details.

‘Why? A tree’s a tree. If I see it, I see it.’ Then, something clicked for him, as he said: ‘it’s not like we need to find them, you understand. The Great Houses come from History – the Celts, mainly. They worshipped the natural elements, and trees had a different significance to them. Whether they existed before the Cataclysm, I don’t know – but I do know that those ideas were consolidated in the years to come. That’s how we have such clear Great Houses today.’

‘But an oak tree represents strength? There has to be more to the connection than just Celtic lore.’

‘Not in any meaningful way. Whoever matched them was clever. They noticed the groupings of different skills and matched them to trees with some similar attributes.

For once, Elvie wasn’t sure if she agreed with Flynn.

She shuffled the letter back and forth between her hands as she realised the developing dilemma. How could anyone help her understand what had happened, and help her learn about Elder magic, if she didn’t reveal to them the truth about time travel? She kept them in the dark, assuming that everything would be revealed to her – without revealing anything herself. Did she need to tell the truth, trust someone with her secret in the hope they could help her understand? It did make sense, but who? That was the big question. James? Maybe, but he wasn’t in Elder House, and she had only met him a few times now. If trust and knowledge of Elder House were the key criteria, it only left Callum and Alistar. Could she trust them enough to tell the truth, having met them but once? It was a matter that needed a lot more thought.

Flynn returned to reading, and Elvie once again directed her attention to Eldridge’s letter.

Pulling out the parchment precisely folded inside, she admired the sprawling curls of his handwriting.

Dear Elvie,

I hope you are doing well with your lessons and are diligently pursuing your studies. You should know all is well here. Mrs Thistle thinks of you regularly – you’ve found a soft spot in her heart.

Events have progressed rapidly upon my return. The royal family has charged me with their protection from magical attack. It is a matter of trust, as they seek to draw all branches of the ‘family’ together. I do not know what use I will be, being a middling magician at best, but my duty is clear.

Know I will write to you soon, once quieter times have returned. I look forward to the chance to see you at the Duels – I will likely be attending in my new role – the Royalty has a love for the glamour of such a contest.

Sincerely,

Eldridge.

‘Flynn,’ she attracted his attention again.

‘Hmm?’ he half-heartedly replied.

‘What are the Duels?’

He snorted before his eyes narrowed upon her. ‘You’re not from much of a magical family, are you?’

She shrugged in reply.

‘The Duels are the showcase of magical strength for the entire community – possibly the whole world. They move around from place to place, year to year – and foreign nominations come through too. I’ve heard this year there isn’t going to be many contestants, what with the rising tensions and all. My Pa says the Duels haven’t been the same since the Great War anyway. It’s hard to test your mettle in the arena when magicians are killing each other elsewhere.’ It was one of the rare times he spoke of his family – usually, he stubbornly refused.

‘But what are they?’

‘Fights, of course. Duels! Well, they start as duels, but they end as a free-for-all all where you want to be the last man, or woman, standing. Magical battles, Elvie – and we’ll get to watch them soon!’