The year 767 was a year of sorrow for the entirety of Ceraviehl. Our esteemed Founder, Gornatius Siti passed away due to his advanced age. The great founder not only invented the first spell but also taught hundreds of people what it meant to be a Mage.

We owe it solely to him and his research that thousands of practitioners have broken through to the stage of a Wielder. Whereas the Guild was nothing but a small organization back then, it now has turned into a place of knowledge and community for Mages all along Ceraviehl. May the gods bless his soul.

Excerpt from History of the Guild of Mages, written by Archmage Andrew Dross

Silas lay on his back, staring at the wooden ceiling above him. He couldn’t sleep, but he tried to anyway. Gnarly slept comfortably on his chest. Its little form was the only thing keeping him from starting to sob uncontrollably.

He had tried to suppress his feeling earlier when he had talked to the old man. While Tom certainly wasn’t quite right in the head, he also didn’t seem like a bad person to him. There was no reason to burden him with Silas’ misery. Now though, as he lay on the bed, he had a hard time controlling his feelings.

Gnarly was the only one he had left, now.

Did his new companion truly originate from the tree he had slept in the day before? Silas could hardly believe the old man’s words. It was too alive to come from such an unmoving thing like a tree.

Although it had only been a day since he had bonded with it, Gnarly already felt like family to him. He somehow knew it would never stray from his side, filling Silas with an intense conviction to care for it.

Every time Silas closed his eyes he saw his mother sacrificing herself for him. It was either her or his father, telling him to run. Silas shuddered, remembering the image of his father’s head after the barbarian’s axes had smashed into it. He much preferred to look at the ceiling then to close his eyes.

A long while passed as Silas lay there, occasionally managing to doze off for a bit. But the death of his parents was ever-present in his dreams, waking him up every time.

Dozing once more, Silas woke to the sound of angry cussing.

“Thrice damned rabbits,” the speaker spit out the words. “These are my vegetables, grow your own for Herald’s sake!”

Silas couldn’t make out much of what was being said, but he heard something about “extermination” and “retaliating”. He chuckled, realizing the voice belonged to Tom, the stranger Silas had met yesterday. His chuckling eventually woke Gnarly, who looked around itself confusedly.

It let out a high-pitched creak after spotting Silas, awake in an instant. Enthusiastically jumping up and down on Silas' chest, Gnarly gestured towards the sound of the swearing.

Sighing, Silas sat up, putting Gnarly on his shoulder. It used his air to tie a knot around its waist, creaking all the while.

“You ready?” Silas asked his wooden companion.

Gnarly only tugged on his ear, urging him to go out of the cabin and meet Tom. Although Silas had only rested for a some time, his legs already felt a lot better.

‘I guess those bandages really did help’, Silas mused.

He opened the door to the little cabin, warm sunlight greeting his face. A slight breeze brought an earthy scent with it. Silas breathed in deeply, enjoying the moment.

“What about poison though? If I cook the meat correctly afterward, I wouldn’t even have to go hunting anymore,” a voice from behind the cabin muttered.

Shaking his head, Silas went to see Tom. The old man stood in front of what appeared to be his vegetable garden, a wooden fence around it. Silas was surprised by the size of the garden. It was almost as big as the cabin itself. Various vegetables grew inside of it, and Silas saw a few freshly dug holes with gnawed pieces of carrot strewn about.

Tom looked to have just returned from his hunting trip. A small leather bag and two rabbits hung from his hip.

Seeing Silas approaching, Tom instantly started to rant about the rabbits.

“Do you see this? They jumped right over the fence this time! They even buddled holes and dug out my carrots, again!” Tom ranted.

“Yeah…,” Silas began. “How was the hunting?” he asked, trying to change the topic.

“Oh good,” Tom replied, his facial expression changing abruptly. “I got two of them this time,” he said, and patted his hip from where the rabbits dangled for emphasis.

“I’m going to make some stew. Do you know how to skin and gut a rabbit?” Tom asked Silas.

“My f-father showed me once, but I’m not sure,” Silas replied, his speech faltering at the mention of his deceased parent.

“It’s quite easy, I’ll show you,” Tom said. “Most people use a knife for this, but then again, most people are idiots anyway,” he told Silas.

Unhooking a rabbit from his waist, Tom put his right hand around the rabbit's neck. “Look closely,” he demanded, using his left hand to grasp the rabbit’s lower chest.

Tom then slowly went down with his left hand, keeping a tight grip as he did so. The rabbit’s body started to bulge noticeably as Tom’s hand went farther down, pushing the innards toward its rectum. Putting the rabbit over his knee, he gave it a sudden jolt while putting one elbow on the rabbit’s lower body. To Silas’ surprise, the guts cleanly exited from the rabbit’s rectum and fell to the ground in front of him.

Silas grimaced at the unsavory sight.

“If you don’t have a knife on you, you can use either your teeth or it’s back claw to cut a hole into the fur,” Tom continued, biting into the rabbit’s back and spitting the fur out.

The old man then put two fingers in the small gap he created, pulling the fur from its skin with a few practiced movements.

“It may look a bit messy, but this way you don’t get your hands dirty while removing its innards. Normally though you would want to use a sharp knife while skinning the rabbit, to avoid getting fur on the meat. Just remember that a knife is a tool, but not a necessity,” he explained to Silas, who nodded absently.

“Did you follow?” Tom asked the bewildered Silas.

“I think so?” answered the boy, his voice unsure.

Instead of replying Tom simply unhooked the second rabbit from his waist, holding it in front of Silas’ face.

“Then get to work,” Tom ordered him. “There are knives on the rack beside the door, and you can tie the rabbit to these bars while skinning it,” he added, gesturing to the overhanging bars of the cabin beside him. Two pieces of rope were dangling from it, obviously placed there to skin animals.

Sighing, Silas reluctantly took the rabbit from Tom. While Silas had no illusions where the meat from his table came from, he had always liked rabbits. They were cute, with their small legs and plushy fur.

“I will be in the shed, come find me when you're done,” Tom said, walking off without waiting for an answer.

Silas looked down at the rabbit in his hand, feeling pity for the animal. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Imitating Tom’s earlier pose, Silas put his hand around the rabbit’s ribcage. Pushing the guts out of its rear was harder than he had thought, especially since his hands were smaller than Tom’s.

Gnarly cheered him on while he worked, emitting an especially loud creak when the guts finally exited the rabbit’s body.

Getting a knife from the cabin, Silas tied the rabbit to the two pieces of rope. The skinning by itself was not that difficult. He managed to do it without getting any fur on the meat, feeling quite proud of himself. After he successfully skinned the carcass he went towards the shed, which stood right beside the cabin.

The shed looked to have been built after the cabin, leaning on to the right side of it. The door to the shed stood slightly open. It groaned ominously when Silas opened it.

The smell of old blood assaulted his nose, and Tom wasn’t inside.

However, Silas was still relieved as he looked around the shed. It seemed to be just a normal shed, with a table for cutting animal meat along with various tools, such as shovels and different kinds of gardening equipment.

Silas honestly wouldn’t have been surprised to find a podium with a black tome standing in the middle of it. Maybe a few candles and some crude drawings to complete the picture. Shaking his head, he left the shed. He soon found Tom standing by the fireplace in front of the cabin, a large pot hanging above the fire.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Silas asked Tom, holding up the rabbit he skinned with his one hand.

Walking over to the shed, Tom then showed him how to cut the meat from the bones. Afterward, the two went back to the campfire. Tom threw the meat into the large iron pot above it, and Silas could see various vegetables swimming inside. He didn’t want to admit it, but the stew smelled pretty good.

A slight smirk could be seen on Tom’s face, although he didn’t say anything.

“The stew is going to be ready in a bit, so you’re off for today,” Tom told him while stirring the pot with a large wooden spoon.

Silas nodded, sitting down on the stool standing near the campfire. The two shared a moment of silence, Tom occasionally tasting the stew and Silas looking out at the dense woods ahead of him. He felt strangely at peace, with the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the fire crackling beside him.

Gnarly seemed to share his sentiment, leaning its head on Silas' ear while enjoying the scene. It was evening by now, and the sun gave the whole forest an orange tinge. It reminded Silas a bit of his hometown, Bildsfell. During the summer he and his family had often spent the nights outside, his father cooking while his mother sang.

She hadn’t been a professional singer by any means, but both his father and him had enjoyed it. Hannah had always put her all of her heart into every song she sang. Silas felt a pang of loss as he remembered one of their family trips. He didn’t notice how Tom looked at both him and Gnarly, seemingly considering something.

An especially loud slurping shook Silas out of his thoughts.

“Stew is ready,” Tom said, putting down the large spoon and walking to the cabin.

He returned with a ladle and two wooden bowls, one of which he gave to Silas. The young boy eagerly stood in front of the large pot, both of his hands cupping the bowl. Filling Silas and himself a good portion, both of them sat down around the campfire.

“By the way, I have some old clothes in a trunk under the table in the cabin. Choose what fits you best, no reason to walk around in these rags,” Tom gestured to Silas’ poor excuse of clothing.

Both his pants and shirt were ridden with holes, although Silas had already grown accustomed to it by now.

“Thank you. I don’t think I would have been allowed to enter Bryme with this,” Silas admitted while shoveling the stew into his mouth.

Tom only grunted.

“I know you want to get to Bryme to join the Guild, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he told Silas, who only looked at him with confusion.

“I know the Guild may try to take Gnarly away from me, but I can’t just give up,” Silas said vehemently.

“There is more to it than that,” Tom began. “You don’t have a single coin on you, and the appraisal of the Guild isn’t exactly cheap. In addition you are too young to find work. The most likely scenario is you ending up on the streets, having to hide Gnarly everywhere you go,” he explained calmly.

While Silas was still young, he wasn’t stupid, either. He knew all of this. Yet he felt like he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t go back to Bildsfell and live there as an orphan, leeching off the pity from the other villagers.

Silas snorted after hearing Tom’s advice. “What am I supposed to do then, stay here with you?” It came out harsher than he had intended, but he was in no mood to apologize.

Tom didn’t seem to be insulted by his tone. “Yes, I was just about to make that suggestion,” he told Silas.

“That’s a kind offer, but I can’t stay here. I need to become a Mage,” Silas said with conviction.

“What if I told you I could teach you how to become one?” Tom asked him. “Probably even better than those spellslingers at the Guild calling themselves Mages,” Tom remarked, his spite at the mention of the Guild apparent.

Silas had to refrain himself from laughing. “You are a Mage?” he asked, looking at Tom with obvious doubt.

Although Tom did seem to possess some knowledge about the workings of the Guild, what kind of Mage would choose to live alone in some nondescript forest, growing vegetables?

Within the blink of an eye, the whole atmosphere around Silas changed. The clearing suddenly began to darken, the shadows lengthening with each heartbeat. Beside him, the flames of the campfire flickered weakly before going out completely.

Even the trees around the clearing leaned towards Silas as if waiting for their chance to strike. He felt like an ant in front of the old man. Tom exuded a pressure so intense Silas could hardly breathe. The air itself seemed to thicken, and he wasn’t able to move a single muscle of his body.

Tom looked at him, his voice coming from everywhere but his mouth.

“Looks can be deceiving, boy. Don’t let your ignorance insult somebody you know nothing about,” he reprimanded Silas.

“I’m sorry,” Silas exclaimed as soon as he was able to breathe again. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Sensing Silas fear, Gnarly began to creak at Tom annoyingly. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem to perceive Tom as a threat at all. Gnarly sounded more like it scolded Tom for doing something bad. Its right arm was raised, one finger pointing at Tom accusingly.

The pressure Silas had felt vanished as soon as it appeared. The campfire came back to life as if nothing had happened, the clearing lightening up again.

Shaking his head tiredly, Tom spoke up. “It is me who needs to apologize. My temper has gotten the best of me, but I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said apologetically before reverting to his usual calm self.

Silas nodded, taking a deep breath. He was still more than a bit scared. Yet he also saw that Tom clearly was a Mage and not a bad one at that. Manipulating an Art was possible for many practitioners, but to emit the kind of pressure Tom had just now was something else entirely. These people were on another level. At least that was how it worked in his father’s stories.

“What would you want in return for your teachings?” Silas asked cautiously.

“Smart boy,” Tom replied, smirking. “But in truth, I’m just bored. A little help around the garden would be nice I guess,” he added offhandedly. “And you have to do exactly as I say if I’m to teach you.”

Silas weighed his options. He knew the Guild forced one to swear obedience before they accepted anyone into their ranks, so the last part wasn’t too suspicious. But he was also worried about Gnarly. He couldn’t bear someone experimenting on it or trying to take his new friend away from him.

And besides, the old man had done nothing but help him so far. While the earlier display of power had been quite frightening, Tom didn’t seem to harbor any ill intentions towards Silas. He thought he would have to haul water and scrub his whole cabin clean, but until now Tom had only taught him things.

He could take the off chance that the Guild would somehow accept him without an appraisal while also giving him work as the tuition wasn’t free either. Or he could take the opportunity offered to him right now, ensuring Gnarly would stay with him.

‘Darn it. Looking at it this way, I don’t really have a choice, do I?’ Silas thought.

Silas glanced at Gnarly before making his decision. His companion wasn’t frightened at all, simply nodding at him encouragingly.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at Tom.

“I accept your offer,” Silas declared, hoping he wouldn’t regret his choice later on.