Norman kept his distance from the two brothers, hiding Ándras behind him.

"Hey, hey, what was that talk about beating us without any spells?" Milán cracked his knuckles.

"You look mighty scared there." Michal smiled with anger.

"Tobias, the abominable genius," Milán added.

"I'm always scared, but that doesn't mean I'm running away," Norman said. "Also, there's no way to make you stop calling me that, is there?"

"Step up," Milán waved his hand.

"If you want to find out. Would you also mind explaining-" Michal asked.

"How do you think you can beat us?" Milán finished.

"Oh, that's simple," Norman nodded. "You wasted your spell." He pointed at Milán.

"Wasted?" Milán tilted his head.

"You used all your potential for something impossible like reviving your dead brother. I don't blame you. Desperate times call for desperate measures but trust me on this, even if you get to that goal, it will cost more than you were prepared to sacrifice."

The two brothers stared at Norman, speechless.

"What kind of emotional speech was that supposed to be?" Michal grimaced.

"You think we will listen to your sob story?" Milán slapped his checkered suit with an icy sneer. "Or were you just telling your tragic tale?"

"The story of Tobias the abominable. Want to tell more? Selling that story could give us more money than what that duke gave us." Michal suggested with a sassy smile.

"I don't mind, but I wouldn't say the same about my family. They might not like me, but they hate getting their reputation tarnished even more. So, if you're okay with getting hitmen breathing down your neck, I'm all for it." Norman smiled back.

"No, we would rather," Milán said.

"Kill you and take the money." Michal continued.

"Your loss." Norman shrugged.

"Then, die." Michal threw a rock at Norman and clapped. "Switch."

Without further warning, he appeared in front of Norman. A small rock appeared where he once was, dropping back into the snow. Michal struck Norman in the chin with Pierce, making him fall limb.

Ándras rushed in, only to find himself away. Turning around, he saw Milán in his place, ready to kick Norman with an evil grin. Yet, Norman disappeared under his boot.

The brothers looked around, surprisingly pleased.

"See? We made you use it!" Milán yelled into the air.

"Your spell!" Michal added.

"I give you a c minus, but it's still nothing to write home about." Norman's voice echoed in the wind. "But now that I've seen what it can do, you won't be able to lay a finger on me."

"It's two-on-one," Michal said.

"How are you going to win against that?" Milán asked.

"First, I take out the troublemaker." Norman thought out loud.

He shot a coin from the shadows. It hit square at the back of Michal's head, and the man fell unconscious.

"Michal!" Milán yelled, yet his brother would not wake up.

"There, that should do it." Norman nodded.

"Come out, coward!" Milán watched his surroundings.

"Now, that's rich, coming from an assassin." Norman chuckled.

"Fine, stay there." Milán took out a knife. "Then I'll just gut him." He ran at Ándras.

"Don't worry, Norman, I got this." Ándras squared up.

He carefully watched Milán's movements yet couldn't read where he would hit. Milán swung from the side. Ándras tried to grab him, only for him to become grabbed himself. With his other hand free, Milán made three quick stabs into Ándras' chest and pulled the bloody knife out. You could barely notice it from the dark gray coveralls, yet as the blood dripped to the snow, it was clear that the wounds were deep. Milán whispered something to himself, yet the words escaped in the wind.

"There." Milán watched Ándras fall to his knees. "You might want to come out if you don't want your friend to bleed out."

"Damn," Norman said from behind a tree. "Hang in there, Ándras. I'll finish this up quick."

He shot another coin, yet Milán saw it coming. Instead of him, the penny hit Ándras, pushing deep inside his flesh.

"Too bad, wrong target." Milán smiled.

"What? How did he?" Norman glanced at the still unconscious body. "Did he seriously switch his soul to the other brother? Could it be that his spell can also switch between two living bodies? Since he didn't do it to me, it must be something only they can do between each other."

"You must have figured it out already," Michal said, speaking through Milán. "So, what grade does Milán get?"

"...D plus," Norman said.

"D? Hold on, what's that for?" Michal asked, trying to locate Norman.

"The spell itself could be C, but only in the hands of someone smarter." Norman switched spots.

"What do you mean?"

"You two can't switch again until your body wakes up, and that's all the time I need."

"Oh, really? Then bring it on!" Michal yelled in the wind.

Yet, as he finished those words, a gun fired behind him. He couldn't react, however, as the bullet hit him in the back of the head, and he fell dead to the snow.

Norman looked onto the small hill where the shot rang from. There was no mistaking it—the black hood over the leaning shoulders, the eyepatch stretching over the sour face. And, of course, the countless lights followed him like a pack of hounds.

"I finally arrive, and what do I see? Despite taking so long, you two couldn't finish the job. Even more so, you were losing? Pathetic fools. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself, don't you?" Daniel hid the pistol as he approached.

Norman stayed behind the tree. "Spectre." He made himself invisible, just in case.

"I suppose you won't introduce yourself formally as a mage, though that was too much to ask from someone like you," Daniel taunted. "As a self-respecting mage, I shall still give my name to even the lowest of my kind."

Daniel took a deep breath and straightened his back. "I am Lord Daniel Apellon Medrawd II, a magnum magus of the Magistrate and leader of one of the twelve great houses of Albion."

The silence did not cheer him or give their name. Daniel noticed Ándras bleeding out in the snow and sneered. "Leaving your friend to die? Are Normans truly this despicable, spineless family of mages?"

After not hearing an answer, Daniel took out his eyepatch with a grudging scowl. Covered underneath was a glimmering eye in blue and green, with the allure and danger of a cursed gemstone. The eye rolled around in the socket, searching like a beacon. It stopped in place, gazing at one of the trees. It was nothing like the other glass eye. Rather than spite and hate, it mirrored on its shining surface a sense of superiority, like a smug smile he was wearing; it was like a glimmering trophy. It was not a useless heraldry either, which Norman soon discovered.

He peeked from behind a tree under the safety of his invisibility. Yet, as he did, the eye looked straight at him, staring intensely into his eyes. Norman decided to go along with what the man had to say, as Daniel had made it clear there was nowhere to hide. Norman could only grit his teeth and do as the man wanted. Of course, he knew it had to be the eye, but he still had to find out how.

"Good." Daniel watched with glee as Norman walked over with an awful look on his face. "Would you kindly tell me your name now?"

Norman brushed the snow and wood bark off his clothes, amusing himself with the thought that Daniel would expect him to act like him.

"Not that I care, but sure, why not?" Tobias Norman-Alcaeus. Graduated from Atlas."

"Would not have guessed that someone like you comes from Atlas." Daniel scratched his beard.

"As I was taken back by your Nazar." Norman finally saw the eye in full detail. It captivated him, even for how horrible of a person it was attached to.

"It is a fine piece of me, indeed. Truly advantageous. You should be honored to be able to lay your eyes upon it."

"But that other one, now I know what it is." Norman pointed at the other eye. "That glass eye is a magic item, isn't it?"

"Sharp eyes." Daniel tapped it. "Barely a passing substitute."

"Sorry about your loss," Norman smirked.

"Oh, do not feel sorry. It was merely a small price to pay to enter the Magistrate. They can be strict if they do not fancy your kind."

"An eye for an eye, huh." Norman could see from the scars that the process was anything but painless, most likely on purpose.

"I will trade whatever I have to get my family out of the gutter. Not that a famous family like yours could ever understand it."

"No, I can't, not that I'm even trying." Norman kept up a calm facade while analyzing his opponent.

He did not know much about Daniel's vision's nature and what else he could do with his spell. Mage battles were always a battle of wits where who held the most cards up his sleeve won, and Daniel was leading with his eye and spell while Norman's cards were face up on the table. Norman was coming up short on spells against Daniel. Desperation crept up his legs, yet he could not escape. Running would mean leaving Ándras helpless, not even mentioning Orel.

Norman made only a few observations and developed a rudimentary hypothesis. The Nazar was the key to Daniel's ability to see him, yet he could only sense him with the real one. Another thing was the eye patch. While it was a surprise Daniel was hiding a Nazar underneath it, there might have been another reason. Norman had heard that Nazars are more challenging to control and can use a lot of mana. The eyepatch might have been a sealing magic item so Daniel wouldn't use it accidentally.

"Desperately trying to figure me out, are you?" Daniel asked with a laugh.

"No, just silently judging your fashion sense."

"That spell of yours, it's not about reflecting light, but something else entirely, isn't it?" Daniel guessed.

"So you think, but can your little balls do anything about it?"

"My spell is far more than just a light show. While your spell is just a simple illusion, mine is like an army knife."

"We'll see about that." Norman waited for him to blink. As the moment came, he disappeared without a trace.

"You can't hide from my sight!" Daniel looked around.

Norman stayed behind a nearby tree, thinking about what to do. Daniel's words stuck with him. Norman knew that It should not be humanly possible to see him, but perhaps Daniel was sensing him in another aspect of him. It was a risky move, but Norman decided that he needed to use his spell's full potential.

"Where are you?" Daniel muttered to himself.

"You won't find me anymore." Norman's words echoed in the wind.

"We'll see about that." Daniel's brows curled.

Yet, he could not catch even a glimpse of Norman. Even though he could see the tracks in the snow, going tree to tree, he could not see which Norman was hiding behind. Every passing moment increased his furious expression tenfold.

"Enough waiting!" Daniel grew impatient and pointed to a tree. "Fireball!" He snapped his fingers.

One of his lights turned yellowish-orange and flew toward a nearby tree. As the ball reached it, it grew tenfold and burst into flames. Though the explosion produced flames, they faded after the blast, leaving only a toppled tree with a large chunk missing. Daniel couldn't rest without seeing Norman's body.

Norman confirmed Daniel's suspicion as he shot something at him. Daniel was hit on his side. A sharp pain lodged in him like a bullet. There was no time to guard against it with Ward. Daniel felt something stuck in his side and felt around for it. In there, he felt something burrowed. He only took a quick look at it and cast the coin aside in a fury.

"What kind of mage throws coins?!" Daniel grew a vein in his head.

Though he was only a moment ago terrified of how close he was to being blown by Daniel, a wide grin grew on Norman's smile. He had figured out the trick and was ready to tell the good news to him.

"So you can see mana particles with your Nazar. Truly advantageous indeed." Norman tempted Daniel from behind another tree.

Though all mages try to master their efficiency, some mana particles always leak out when using magic. By sensing these particles, Daniel could see Norman's outline, even if he couldn't see his physical form.

Norman had hit a nerve, with Daniel instantly blowing up the tree with his lights.

"Missed!" Norman yelled behind yet another tree.

"You sneaky little-" Daniel snapped his fingers.

It was Daniel's turn to figure out Norman's tricks. His eyes were no longer observing but detecting, trying to figure out the puzzle. He realized Norman wasn't honest with his cards on the table. Norman grazed past Daniel to tap his shoulder, only to disappear again.

"Agh! Come and face me like a man!" Daniel yelled.

"And why would I do that?" Norman shot a coin to his back.

Daniel could see no trace of Norman while he was being bombarded from all angles. The coins would tire him soon if he didn't turn the tables. Daniel did not know how Norman could hide his mana particles and couldn't think of any way to use his lights against him. Being driven to a corner, Daniel decided to use his last card.

"I'll show you the true power of my magic." Daniel raised his hand, heaving from the damage. "Flicker flare, true name release: Ignis fatuus."

Norman stopped in his tracks. He knew exactly what was about to happen. A grand spell was being cast, and while Norman did not know what it would do, he knew it was bad news.

"Scorching flames that burn to the bone, light as gods had it created, blind them, bring it here..." Daniel continued casting as his lights gathered together.

Norman tried to shoot a coin, but the lights blocked it before it could hit Daniel. Norman was desperate to try and stop the spell, yet he couldn't step closer to the heat.

Daniel laughed at the top of his lungs. Norman could see it in Daniel's eyes, the feeling of success, the sadist pleasure of crushing others, and of course, there was one other thing.

"Too late! You cannot stop it anymore with your petty tricks!" Daniel's eyes gleamed with madness.

"Ignis fatuus, the giddy flame of the bog that guides to hidden treasure, reveal all secrets: Lahaina noon!" Daniel finished casting with a bellowing voice.

The lights combined before Norman's eyes. A great ball of flame formed and rose far up to the sky. It illuminated the night as if it were day, straight above the patch of land and far beyond. Bright as the sun, blinding, smoldering. Norman could not escape it. He was trapped under the blazing heat. The brightness was too much for his eyes as if it was boiling them like eggs. Soon he could not bear the intense heat. No shade existed, only the snow evaporating from the heat and blinding light that dried the trees and brought drought to the land. Norman could hardly do anything besides gasping and sweating as if lost in a desert.

"Behold the final form of Ignis fatuus! Watch as the sun burns your throat and leads me to divine victory! Simmer from the inside and die!" Daniel rejoiced in the suffering.

Norman was out of options. He could not even use his coins as they were already too hot to be held. He leaned on the tree, which itself was already cracking dry. The sweat dripping from the strings of his hair vaporized soon as they touched the ground, where the grass was turning yellow and withered. His arms and legs started to burn and blister as he looked like a chicken dinner roasting in the oven.

"There's no end to this heat. That bastard's made up his mind to finish us. I doubt the spell can last long, but neither can I. Orel, Ándras, Lisa, I'm sorry."

Norman's dry eyes closed, only to open to a sudden realization. "Wait, Ándras!"

"You," Daniel noticed Ándras standing up from the melting snow.

Steam erupting from the cut openings on the overalls was a surprising sight to say the least.

"Right, you were still here." Daniel snapped his fingers. "Fireball!"

A tiny spec of light detached from the sun, flew down, and engulfed Ándras in flames. Daniel smiled as the man disappeared into the fire, but the grin quickly turned upside down. Ándras walked out of the flames, like being hit by a slight breeze. He was only slightly burnt up, yet noticeably more pissed off.

"Stay right there." Daniel took out the pistol from inside his jacket.

A small, lean semiautomatic pistol was the right tool for something that magic couldn't do. It was an ordinary weapon, but Daniel was confident in the ammunition.

Ándras stretched his arm towards the warm light like a reptile. It rejuvinated him like a frog from hibernation.

Daniel noticed this and could connect what was happening, even if it displeased him. Daniel sensed Norman was out of commission nearby, but he could deal with him later. The main problem was marching toward him at a terrifyingly quick pace.

"Fine. I'll deal with you the old-fashioned way." Daniel dismissed his spell.

The sun disappeared, and darkness arrived again. Norman could take a breather, but he was not in fine condition. He wanted to help, yet his options were scarce, as he could barely move. He looked from behind the tree and saw the situation.

Daniel shot Ándras. He took a small step back from the recoil. It was not a weapon Daniel had used much, but he could land a shot to Ándras' lungs. Ándras stood still but took another step as blood stained his clothes. His look was not that direct, almost to the point of being unconscious. His eyes were on the verge of closing, and only a tiny glimmer shone between the eyelids. Daniel was about to smile that his shredding bullets had worked. Yet, Ándras took a step. To be sure, Daniel shot again. Unfortunately for him, it wouldn't stop Ándras' advance.

"Stop it! Why can't you die?" Daniel's hands began to shake.

Six steps had passed, each following another bullet, yet Ándras only flinched for a moment and then took another step. Daniel was dripping with cold sweat; the man standing before him should be on the ground, yet the blood dripping from his overalls made no difference. Norman did not dare to look at Ándras and the pool of blood behind him.

Daniel aimed at Ándras' head but was met with a hard right punch to the face. Daniel tried to block it with his Ward-coated arm, only to snap with the ribs it smacked against. Daniel tumbled across the ground, being brought to a halt against a pine tree. Air escaped his lungs, yet it was not enough to knock him out. Instead, his consciousness was filled with horrible pain for the time being. He took some time to stand back up and load the pistol.

"This is nothing...Pain is only temporary. As long as I win at the end, it's all that matters." Daniel cocked the gun with his teeth. "Flashbang!" He blinded Ándras with a ball of light.

It was effective, and Daniel had all the time in the world to finish Ándras. He aimed at his head, which was sure to finish him. Daniel could not help but sway in his aim, but he had to hurry before Ándras' sight would return.

A grin widened on Daniel's face when his aim was on the mark. His finger was on the trigger, ready to pull.

"This is for Michal!" Milán yelled, his burned face fuming with anger. He ran toward Daniel, fueled only by rage and adrenaline, ready to stab him.

Norman saw his moment rise and dragged his body toward the two. He had no idea if he would make it in time, but it was worth the gamble.

Daniel took one good look at Milán and shot him on the spot. As light escaped his eyes, Milán took one last look at his dead brothers as he joined them.

"Now, your turn!" Daniel aimed at Ándras, who was still recovering.

Ándras' sight returned slowly, yet what he saw made him tumble. The utter madness in Daniel's eyes hurt his head as if he were seeing a horrible nightmare.

"This is it!" Daniel announced.

A clink echoed from far away, but Daniel was too focused or in shock to be able to hear it. Something traveled in the air until reaching his index finger. Once making contact, its spin twisted the finger, and Daniel could only shout in pain. The gun fell from his hand as he gripped his broken finger tightly.

Daniel was fast to look at what hit him. A silver coin was next to the gun with blood splattered on it, but the blood was not his. Norman had to fling it the hardest he could for the force to do enough damage, which tore the sunburnt skin from his fingers. It was the most he could do, but luckily it was just enough.

"This makes us even." Norman gripped his bleeding hand.

Daniel desperately reached for his gun, yet Ándras kicked it away. Daniel looked, where Ándras looked down at him. If it were not for the situation, Daniel would be furious if someone looked down on him, but at that moment, it was terror that filled his mind with the sudden dread of death. Though Ándras usually was one to forgive and let go, his bloodshot eyes were as unforgiving as the man they glared at.

"If this has come to this..." Daniel bit his teeth together until blood flowed from his gums. "Ignis fatuus, the royal flash of the setting sun: Saeva Solis!" Daniel's chest began to sparkle.

"No, you don't." Norman grabbed Daniel's face.

Daniel bit Norman's finger. "Decided to join in the fun? You can't stop me!" He laughed as the light became brighter.

"No, we are done here," Norman said calmly. "Doppelgänger." He chanted.

"What are you-" Daniel noticed.

The light dimmed and finally went out. Before he could understand what was happening, Ándras punched him with all the force he could muster.

Daniel's face caved in. Blood spattered against the tree. The tree shook until all of the pinecones had dropped to the ground. Ándras took a moment to see if Daniel would move but decided to leave the body there once it fell over to the ground. He turned his arm to check how it had healed but was quite satisfied. As he turned, the wounds he had suffered started smoking, with the bits of shrapnel popping out before the skin would seal the wound.

Norman could barely stand up by taking support from the tree.

"You healed pretty neatly." He could barely muster a smile on his face.

"Would you call it even if I carry you this time?" Ándras walked over.

"Sure, let's call it that." Norman nodded.

Ándras picked Norman up and started walking towards the venue. Even when worn from the action, Ándras carried him with minimal effort, almost like holding a toddler. As he walked, Ándras could not resist asking.

"What was that about, the thing you did to him?"

Norman looked away. "You may not want to know."

"How about a trade? I tell you what happened to me, and you tell what you did."

"...Fine, but I warned you."

They shared their secrets in the dark of night, where no one else would hear them. It was somewhat surprising for both of them.

"So, whose is it? The one you have been using?" Ándras asked.

"Lisa's, my big sister's."

"Sorry, that was too much." Andras apologized.

"It's alright." Norman sighed.

"When are you going to tell Orel?"

"I-I don't know."

"You need to tell him at some point. The sooner, the better."

"I-"

Norman's radio rang.

"Are you going to answer that?" Ándras asked.

Over the hills and past the trees, Orel's sight swayed left and right as he ran under the moonlight. He found himself in a clearing with smaller ferns and old trunks popping from a large mound.

"Why isn't Norman answering?" Orel stopped for a moment.

Something caught his eye—a small glimmer from one of the trunks. Like gold, it sparkled in the night, luring Orel closer. He made his way to the top, where a burrow lay underneath the great stump.

He looked at the dark hole under one of the branches until suddenly, a furry head popped out. The golden fleece glimmered with the pointy ears, and long whiskers on the slim nose as the small round eyes stared back.

The animal eyes were filled with darkness, yet they sparkled like stars. The staredown was intense as if it looked down on Orel's soul.

The fox jumped out of its cave on top of the stump as if it had understood something. The fluffy golden tail circled it calmly as the fox sat down. Orel decided to sit down as well, and without waiting for too long, he could hear a voice echo inside his head.

"I am Sindri, a golden fox of few. Your eyes have no malice, so what do you seek?" Sindri asked.

The voice was ominous, ethereal, and omniscient. Yet, it brought peace to Orel's heart just hearing it. The beast stood proud and majestic, magical and enchanting.

"I'm Orel." Orel was in awe. "You, you're the bridge guide?"

"Correct." Sindri nodded. "Is there anything you wish?"

"Can you take me to Väinölä?"

"Certainly, as it is my duty."

"But." Orel took a moment to calm himself. "I don't want to."

"Why is that?"

"My friends, I wanted to go with them."

Sindri stared Orel for a moment. "Then, what would they have wanted you to do?"

"They...Would want me to keep going."

"If that is what they wished, what do you wish?"

"I want to go. I really do." Orel squeezed his mittens.

"Then shall we go?" Sindri jumped off the stump.

"Yes." Orel nodded sheepishly.

The fox stepped lightly on the ground, Orel following near. Suddenly the beast took steps in the air. Soon, the tail erupted in green, blue, and purple and drifted upwards to the sky. It formed vertical wavy lines of unforeseen beauty, flowing like a quiet stream.

"Foxfires." Orel still found them breathtaking.

"They are the doings of me and my brethren, the firey paintings of the night sky. Once there were many of us, but not anymore."

Elsewhere, Norman looked up as the sky exploded with color while being carried.

"There he goes." He nodded.

Sindri came down, and a radiant wave followed her to the ground. The myriad of colors was nothing like the fox fires in the sky, closer to the end of a rainbow.

"There, we shall embark on the rainbow bridge." Sindri turned back towards it.

Orel finally realized it all. This was what they had been looking for. She was the guide. It was like a fairy tale, an unbelievable moment in time. Orel rose to the skies above and saw the forest down below with each. It took almost no time for the bridge to lower to the other side, where a snowy wind blew open the world he had been looking for. The land of the north, keep of the giants, frozen wonder.

“Welcome to Väinölä.” Sindri smiled.

Tears were forming in his eyes. It was not just the beautiful landscape but seeing the first step of his dream come to fruition. It was a true feeling of accomplishment, a sense of progression, a driving force that no one could ever quench. Moments such as these were the reason for his living, and Orel was sure to remember them even during the most demanding challenges. Happiness overflowed with tears of joy, which Orel had no will to stop.

On the other end, someone would also be tearing up, but not to the tears of anything happy. Instead, it was sorrow, loss, and the snotty nose of someone yelling in anguish. The forest echoed the cries of a man holding their dear brother in their arms. His grief was almost theatrical and quite frightening if anyone were watching.

"I am so sorry! It's my fault they did this to you! I couldn't do anything! All I could do was sit around doing nothing! I am such a waste! You have always been the better heir. How am I supposed to amount to our name? Why was I even born?" Fynn sobbed, holding Daniel.

Daniel was surprised that he was alive and could only gasp as his brother's dropped tears ran down his face. Daniel could only bite his lip until blood flowed, both for his brother and for how he had failed his family. Anger was in both of their minds for a similar reason, possibly the only reason Daniel had survived.

Fynn looked at his brother's face, seeing his determined eyes. The joy of seeing him live lit up his face, but then he realized what he was telling him. The eyes said he should carry on, that this was the moment he needed to change. He should not stay and cry but go and get help for his brother. They would need to get out of here before any police show up. He needed to overcome himself and do it fast. That moment of frustration created something drenched in hateful darkness—a surge of magical energy steeped in the deepest depths.

Darkness gathered around his back; a black current swirled to round discs, rotating as they took shape. There they started pounding, pulsing like a black heart that created a melody, a thumping rhythm. He would no longer need any drums, for he had made them himself. His magic progressed to a new level that even Daniel could not accomplish.

They beat more drastically than ever, echoing like a beast's cry inside a cave. Shadowborn was the darkness around him, amassing a cloak in the countless population of his darkest imagination. Yet, for his best efforts, Daniel smiled, for he beheld the birth of a great magus the Medrawd family could ever hope for. A childish joy, corrupted by the malice of unseen amount at the sight of such wonder. He was now sure who would become the next duke in the family.