Prologue

Evander gawked at the floating chunk of glowing metal as it warped and folded under the crushing power of his father’s will. Glowing threads of red and blue shot from His father’s body and encircled the metallic lump. A radiant gem hung from his father’s neck, drinking up the vortex of silver threads that swirled around him. As its radiance intensified the red and blue threads grew thicker and more abundant.

Evander trembled as he reached out to touch the vortex of silver surrounding his father. The swirling light was mesmerising. He could feel his pulse throbbing in his arm as he touched a swirling thread. It felt light and soft, like a fluid that wasn’t wet. It had substance to it as it pushed through his finders, like a feather running against his skin. As the vortex of mana passed between his fingers it left a tingling sensation.

The metal before his father flowed like clay as it flattened and folded, then flatten again in repetition. When the forging was done, a massive, single-edged sword rested in the air before him, suspended by threads of blue light.

His father sharpened and polished the blade in the same way he had forged it, using his magical threads of light. They swirled as they moved, eventually taking form around the blade. Evander could hear the scraping as they went from dull to shimmering. Finally, Evander saw the magical threads tracing out something on the blade. Beautiful and intricate engravings took form down the shaft of the blade.

Determined to copy his father, he had grabbed a lump of metal and began crushing with his hands, only to fail in the most unspectacular of ways. How could his father do such things, things that seemed impossible? He hadn’t even touched the metal, and yet it flowed as if shaped by ethereal hands with inhuman strength. His father was a god, and he, a mere ant trembling at the power he wielded.

His father handed him the completed sword shaft, still warm to the touch.

“One day, son, I hope you can join me in my craft. But no matter what magic you get when you are older, hard work and determination will see you through”

At that moment, something clicked. He would become like his father? The vortex of energy, the shining stone, and the ribbons of coloured light, would someday be his?

Nothing in all his years could compare to the fearsome power he had witnessed. And with the promise of his own godlike power, Evander decided to prepare himself. He would learn all magic that was knowable, and master all he was given. There would be no obstacle too great, no king nor god too mighty. When he finally received his magic powers, nothing would stop him from becoming the greatest mage that ever was.

Chapter 1: Evander’s First Day

Magic is not a just thing, it's the only thing that matters and the only thing worth doing. With it you are like a god; without it you’re nothing. Unfortunately people tend to only appreciate something when it’s gone.

- Evander Emberheart

Today was the day Evander would become a mage. To say he was looking forward to it would be a gross understatement. Every morning for the last ten years, he awoke with the promise of magic on his mind. Every night he was comforted, knowing sleep would bring him one day closer to his dream. Of course, it was only technically today because he had failed so terribly at getting to sleep that it was now after midnight. To his great frustration, his mind would not behave.

As he laid in bed, his mind raced with visions of magic, making such tasks effectively impossible. Evander was one good night’s sleep away from the best day of his life. But therein laid the problem. He was too excited to sleep.

He tried to still his thoughts, which worked for a while, but eventually remembered why he was trying to sleep. When this happened, his mind flooded with exciting memories of magic, which were certainly enjoyable if experienced at any other time. However, this was not such a time. One memory in particular kept coming up: the memory of his father’s workshop.

This memory was all too familiar, as he spent most nights recalling it at least once. On most nights, the memory comforted him as he drifted to sleep, comforting him with the knowledge that one day he would be a great mage like his father. For obvious reasons, tonight’s recollection gave rise to more active emotions, ones not conducive to sleep. He needed to change tactics.

Reluctantly sliding the covers off of his cosy feet, he sat up and pressed the starter on the orb lamp atop his bedside table. The flickering of a warm orange light illuminated his rather comfortable living space. His feet slid over his soft, warm sheets and onto the cold polished wooden floorboards of his room. After sliding on a pair of warm slippers, he looked around his room trying to think of ways to tire himself out.

Glancing over at the running platform nestled in the space at the end of his bed, he recalled how his father bought it for him after weeks of pleading. Having learned that physical exercise made for powerful mages, it was only natural to want one. Perhaps he could run for an hour and then try again to sleep. He quickly dismissed the idea as foolish, as it was late and the machine was rather noisy. He needed a quieter solution.

Slowly, he made his way to the closet on the other side of the room. The first thing he needed to do was change into something warmer. As he slipped the warm robe over his shoulders, the warm and cosy feeling from his bed quickly returned. The next task: figure out how to settle his racing mind.

He glanced at his sturdy, wooden desk, which was spaciously designed with plenty of drawers and compartments for storing his many notebooks and academy texts. After pondering for a moment, he made his decision. If he studied his notes for a while, he might tire himself enough to fall asleep.

After hanging the lamp on the wall near his desk, he sat down and began to study. His desktop was large, made from dark, polished wood. A quill pen lay to his right, his preferred writing implement. Notebooks bound in leather with fancy leather buckles were neatly stacked in two piles on his left. Reaching to his left, he pulled the notebook from the top of the nearest stack and placed it in front of him. He fondly ran his fingers over the smooth leather surface as he read the hand written title on the front:

‘Third Year Kinetic Magic. Book 1: Levitation and Flight’

After unbuckling the leather strap holding the book closed, he opened the book to the first page and began reading.

— —

Evander heard a knock at his door.

“Get up, son. Today’s the day”

A groggy and disoriented Evander opened his eyes, only to be greeted with a close up view of letters on a page. As his mind cleared he realised he was face down on his desk. As he lifted his head he made a mental note that notebooks made for poor pillows. Lifting his head, he closed the book and viewed the title:

‘Third Year Fire Magic. Book 3: Hot, cold, and the flow of heat’

As he stood up, he tried to recall what possessed him to use his desk as a sleeping place, especially given his exceptionally comfortable bed several feet away.

An electric sensation shot through his limbs, and the deep tiredness he felt moments ago washed away as though it was never there. Heart racing, he bounded down the stairs and towards the kitchen where he could hear the distant sound of laughter and cheerful voices of his parents.

As he approached the kitchen, he could smell the savoury aroma of butter sizzling over freshly baked batter. Rounding the corner, he entered the kitchen where he saw his mother Emilia and father Eric were sitting at the dining table. Syrup, cream, and fresh fruit were placed at the dining table, along with a side of freshly brewed coffee.

His father sat at the table, silver light swirling around him while pancakes floated in the air above the table. They were slowly transforming from flat lumps of batter into fluffy, steaming disks. Evander watched as a lump of butter joined the cooking batter at the centre of the table and melted around it. The now finished pancake fell just as his mother held out a plate, landing with a bounce.

His parents greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Morning Evi,” said his mother, “Coffee? You look like you could use it”

Evander nodded sluggishly, as he blinked away the gunk in his eyes. Remembering how tired he was made him groan.

“Don’t remind me, it was practically sunrise by the time I got to sleep. Actually, I think it was less ‘drifting to sleep’ and more ‘passing out from exhaustion’.”

His mother turned to face his father.

“Oh, that sounds bad. How ever will you get through the day?”

Evander paused for a moment as he stared at his mother in confusion.

“As long as I stay excited I’ll probably make it, but once I get my stone and find out what my affinities are, I think I might just pass out”

Evander's father returned her glance. A moment later, he pulled a single gold coin from a coin pouch and levitated it to his mother.

“I guess you were right. Good thing you bought that glorified coffee potion”

“It’s an elixir of wakefulness! And it’s far more than a glorified coffee potion”

His mother retrieved a small box from the bench and presented it to Evander. It was small and ornate, made from dark polished wood, and about the size of his hand.The lid was glass with a wooden frame half an inch around the perimeter.

Inside, Evander could see a silk lined depression hugging a vial of green liquid with a narrow neck and a bulbous base. On the lid of the box, small golden lettering read: “Alvin Austin” in fancy calligraphy. Directly below, in simple print, it read: “Alertness Elixir”. Etched on the bulbous face of the vial, there was identical lettering.

His mother smiled.

“This will make sure you feel well rested throughout the whole day, regardless of the sleep you got the night before”

Evander took the small ornate box and ran his fingers down the side, feeling the smooth surface of the varnished and glazed wood. He eyed the golden latch fastening the lid to the base, then moved his hand to open it. As he opened the box he could feel the sturdiness of its two small hinges. Amazingly, they too appeared to be golden, despite not being visible from the exterior.

Evander removed the vial from its snug depression and ran his thumb over the etching as he eyed the stopper. The stopper appeared to be made from specially moulded rubber, rather than carved from cork. He estimated the value of the silk-lined box and etched vial, then shuddered at the thought of what the liquid inside cost.

“This must have cost a fortune. The box alone looks like it-”

“Uh, uh, uh. Drink up and don’t think about the cost. Your father and I make plenty of money from talentless nobles who have no choice but to partake of our exceptional, and discrete, services. But don’t tell anyone I said that”

Evander raised an eyebrow. Then his mother continued.

“The point is, we can afford to splurge”

Eric placed his hand on Evander's shoulder.

“You’ve been looking forward to this for far too long to be passing out from exhaustion half way through. This is simply us making sure the best say of your life isn’t spoiled by anything avoidable”

Tears began forming in the corner of Evander's eyes as he put down the vial and embraced his parents in a hug.

“You two are the best parents anyone could ever ask for”

They returned his embrace and lingered in a hug for several seconds before Evander stepped back. He turned to the green vial, pulled the stopper, and raised it to his lips.

“Here goes nothing”

As the liquid rushed down, all he could taste was the bite of alcohol, which he found strange. He had expected it to taste minty, or earthy. However, as the last drop entered his mouth, the sensation changed. It was hard to describe but he began to taste…what curling up in a warm bed felt like. He quickly experienced the enveloping sensation of drifting off to sleep, followed by the escalating clarity of waking up refreshed from a good night’s rest.

The feelings came and went in an instant, but it felt like the moment lingered much longer than was possible. After blinking a few times, he turned to his parents, who were watching him expectantly.

“How was it?”, asked his mother

“This is going to sound crazy, but it tasted like a warm pillow and a good night’s sleep. How long have I been standing here?”

“Only a moment”, replied his father, “wild ride am I right?”

“Words cannot describe how wild that was. I’ve read about this but experiencing it is entirely something else”

As Evander moved his head he realised his daze was completely gone. He felt alert and conscious of everything around him. It was like a massive weight had been lifted off of his mind.

“I feel great, better than great. I feel fantastic. I feel like I could stay up forever”

“Careful there”, interjected his mother, “These elixirs are powerful but they come at a cost. They bring your mind to full restedness, but the more sleep they compensate for, the harder you will crash when the elixir wears off in about sixteen hours.”

She turned to the clock on the wall, which showed 8:00am

“Which would be around 10:00pm; just as you are turning in for the night at your dorm”

“Sounds like I should make sure im lying in bed before then”

“Perhaps a little earlier just to be safe. Now enough of that, go on and try your father’s new magic pancakes”

Evander sat down at the table and watched as another freshly magicked pancake fell onto his mother’s plate as tendrils of red and blue light dissipated.

“And how are these magical pancakes different from the last batch of magical pancakes?”

She handed him the plate, which contained two piping hot discs of freshly cooked batter. The outside was slightly caramelised, while the bulk appeared soft and fluffy.

“Simple, these magical pancakes are based on a recipe by the great Chandler Chesterton. You might know him by his moniker, the god of feasts”

“The Chef who owns The Divine Halls! How?”

His mother smiled triumphantly.

“I acquired a new client who was in great need of my services. I simply told him about my son’s love of pancakes and upcoming orientation day. He invited your father to collaborate on a recipe suited to his thermal and kinetic affinities”

“Ah yes, a heroic tale, it was. The great Ivory Smith and the God of Feasts, combining their powers to create the most delightful delicacies. We sought to create the greatest aerated buttery discs of heated batter ever to grace the mortal realm…”

Evander stared at his father, trying to keep a straight face.

“After many nights of toil, we emerged the halls victorious, bellies full with the fruits of our labour. What lies before you, stalwart and studious son of the Emberheart family, is a triumph of unrivalled greatness, gifted to you on you most auspicious of days”

Evander stood there struggling to maintain his deadpan stare while his father concluded. His flat expression quickly turned cheeky, as he replied in an equally dramatic tone.

“Ahh, your tale of sacrifice and triumph has moved me, good sir. I humbly request I partake of your greatness, that it might brighten what would otherwise be a mundane and forgettable day”

“You jest, but wait until you actually try them. Your father knows his stuff. Also, nobles don’t actually sound like that”

Eric huffed, then directed blue light into the batter to shape another perfect disk, followed by a flash of red as it bubbled and browned.

“Okay, okay enough, let me try them.”, said Evander as he sliced a stack, drizzled it in syrup and jammed it into his mouth, “oh…you weren’t kidding. These are divine”

Evander’s mother smiled as she began brewing another pot of coffee.

Realising he was famished, Evander had inhaled his plate of pancakes, then promptly asked for more.

They continued their breakfast, with Evander eating several more plates, until finally, he was full. The three of them cleaned up and put away the dishes, then headed to their respective rooms to get ready for the trip to the Academy.

Evander went upstairs to grab his pack, which contained everything he would need for his first day at the academy. Knowing his journals would take up the majority of his bag space, Evander made sure to pack them first. The rest of the space was taken up by pens, snacks, and his favourite childhood toy, a spring loaded pellet gun his father had crafted for him as a child.

The remainder of his personal effects were scheduled to be transported to his dorm, where they would be waiting for him when he arrived at the end of the first day. These had been packed earlier in the week and contained things like clothes, practical equipment, books, and other essentials.

Lastly, Evander headed to the washroom where he proceeded to give himself a thorough clean to look his very best for the affinity test. Evander dressed himself in his formal wear and headed to the showroom on the first floor, where he saw his parents waiting with a paper package bound with twine.

“You look amazing!" said his mother

Eric was holding a package in his hands, which he promptly handed to Evander.

“Buut, you would look even more amazing if you had your very own academy robes”

“Don’t we put these on at the academy?”

“Generally that’s how it’s done. Walking to the academy in robes tends to make them rather dirty”, respond his father, “but fortunately for us we live close to the academy and are somewhat well of, allowing us to get in on a time honoured flex afforded to high society nobles and aristocrats”

“A flex that makes my robes stay clean?” Evander asked confused, “Like a cleanliness or levitation potion?”

His mother scoffed.

“Don’t be silly, Evi. That would be an outrageous waste of money. We will be taking a carriage”

“And don’t forget the grand entrance. Your mother is paying extra for that”

“You two are the best!”

Evander tore open the package and held the robes up to examine them. They were black with gold accents around the collar and lapels, and cuffs.

Evander turned his eyes to the insignia on the right chest. The insignia was not the usual academy crest, but rather something he had never seen before. The insignia was of a phoenix in red with a green cross under the left wing and a hammer in blue and red under the right. The phoenix was encircled by a kite shield, completing the crest with the name ‘Emberheart’ at its base.

“This crest is…”

His father giggled as he watched Evander's stunned stare.

“It’s another flex that only pompous aristocrats do. So we thought we’d show them up with some dramatic flare of our own”

“But, there is a more important reason. There will be a lot of people at the academy who judge you by your appearance and your family. When they see you have personalised robes, they will think you’re someone of means. When they see your crest, they will remember you by it”

“Don’t you need to have a family crest first, before you put it on your robes. People still won’t know who I am”

His mother smiled.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve been using it at the clinic for several months now. It’s now emblazoned on the entrance and waiting rooms, and will eventually be stitched into every sheet, towel and blanket. I even had an Emberheart stamp made for branding clinic documents”

“And I’ve already begun engraving my work with it”

His father walked over to a newly made sword and presented it with the base of the sword facing Evander. At the base of the blade was a monotone etching of the ‘family’ crest, just above where His father engraved his artisan’s signature.

Evander was speechless. There was silence for a few moments as Evander stared moved from the sword to his parents smiling faces, then down at his robes. A smile crept across Evander’s face.

“So I play the role of the self important aristocrat and bring attention to the family name. Then I use that to reinforce my superiority as use my unrivalled mastery of magical theory to outdo all the elitist wannabe mages”

His father slapped him on the back.

“Right on the money, son!”

His mother placed her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s more than that though. We came from nothing, Evi. We want you to have the head start we never had. Find lifelong companions. It took us years to save up enough to attend the academy, and it wasn't easy as a commoner without money or power. It was dangerous to stand out, so we kept our heads down and got through it. This is our way of making sure you can be the best you can be, and be respected for it. And from now on, what we do reflects on you, and what you do, reflects on us”

There was a moment of silence as his mothers words hung heavy in the air.

“No pressure though”, said his father

Evander gave a deep chuckle, then looked down at his robes, still sitting in his arms. He quickly slipped on the robes, then he gave a spin with his arms outstretched to show off the outfit.

“How do I look?”

“Like a legendary mage in the making”, said his mother

“Like someone who’s going to show up a whole lot of entitled rich kids”, added his father

Evander smiled at his parents' words and walked over to a full length mirror at the side of the showroom. A smirk was slowly forming on his face as he glanced at himself in the mirror, remembering a promise he made himself all those years ago.

“Like the greatest mage that ever was”