“The greatest weapon Dragon’s possess isn’t their sharp claws or fearsome breath, but their magic.

Matched only by the greatest human mages, dragons are born with the natural ability to channel spells of the highest tiers.”

Chapter 39

Wil sat in front of a large fire, his wet boots so close to the flames that steam was rising from them. The fire was sheltered by a triangle of wagons blocking the wind, with a covering of tarps and canvas for protection from the heavy snowfall.

Mara sat next to him, staring quietly into the flames. The young woman had finally removed her hood in the warmth of their makeshift shelter, her short brown hair loose and barely brushing her shoulders.

The caravan had arrived at the bridge a few hours before, and Quentin had set to work organizing the clearing and removal of the snow blocking the pass. She made herself the de facto leader of everyone here, by virtue of browbeating and shaming anyone who argued with her.

It helped that she also had a veritable army of guards now following her. The people she brought with her and those she picked up from attacked caravans along the way.

Quentin arranged for work shifts to be created, and tasks were distributed throughout the camp.

Wil would have complimented her initiative, if he hadn’t been terrified of her single-minded focus. The one time he had smiled at her, she had thrown a shovel at his head and cursed him for being lazy.

Wil made himself scarce after that interaction, hiding away in one of the shelters next to the fire.

Mara had followed him, offering to cook if he could get her out of working in the cold. Wil readily agreed, grateful for her help. His own cooking tended to have a taste of, in his opinion, boiled boots. Bell agreed with his opinion of the taste and banned him from culinary duties.

Ladling a large bowl of the bubbling soup that was hanging over the fire, Wil sat back down on his camp stool. Eating a spoonful, he was delighted to find that it was much better than he had expected.

Careful of the hot liquid, he quickly ate an entire bowl before helping himself too some more.

“Soup’s good! My compliments to the chef.” He said to Mara, trying to fill the silence.

She had been chatty all day, jumping from one topic to another in her usual manner. It was only when she started making the soup, placing packets of ingredients in the pot, and spices that Wil didn’t recognize, that she had gone quiet.

“Thanks.” She said simply, not even looking at him. Knowing something was wrong with her, Wil put his spoon back down into his bowl and looked at her.

“I’m not much of a cook myself, never had an opportunity to learn. Useful thing to know. I didn’t realize how important it was until now.” Wil said, nudging Mara gently with his leg to attract her attention.

“Hmm?” She said, looking up at him, startled from her thoughts.

“I said, I didn’t realize how important being able to cook is. I wish I had someone growing up who could have taught me.” Wil repeated.

“Yeah, it is… My mom taught me. I wanted to be an adventurer when I was little. Dad told me that it was important to learn if I was going to travel.”

“Your father was a Merchant Guard as well? I picked up that he and Bell are old friends.” Wil asked.

“Yeah, they worked for the same Merchant for years, traveling all over on their trade trips. I grew up calling him ‘Uncle Bell’.” She said, turning back to look at the fire. Wil knew that something was troubling her, so he tried to keep her engaged in the conversation.

“Your father retired?” Wil asked, looking for something more to talk about.

She nodded. “When he met my mom, he wanted to stay home to look after her. He said it wasn’t safe for her to be alone. So, he retired, started a farm.”

“You’re from the West…Essen, if I remember correctly?” Wil said, searching his memory for the name of her hometown.

“Yeah, we have a farm just outside of it. Why?” She asked, looking curiously at Wil. She had known him for over a week now and engaging him in conversation was like pulling teeth most times. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so chatty.

“Just curious.” Wil said, shrugging his shoulders at the question. “How about your mother, she must be a great cook if she taught you how to make this?” Wil asked, gesturing with the bowl of soup.

“She is! She’s great at a lot of things, she even tried to teach me magic, but I didn’t have much talent for it!” She exclaimed, before her eyes widened at what she said, as if she revealed a secret.

“Really?” Wil asked, surprised.

People possessing Mana wasn’t rare in the Empire, throw a stone in a crowd and you would have a good chance of hitting someone with the talent for using Mana. Most would only be able to circulate the energy throughout their body, enhancing their physical abilities. They would become stronger and faster.

But casting magic was completely different, it required the ability to project the body’s Mana externally. It required both rare talent and natural ability. It was also expensive to train in.

Most naturally talented magic users were usually found at a young age. They would be offered money and high-ranking positions, for both them and their families, in exchange for loyalty to the Empire or a Noble Family.

Hiding her face from him, Mara looked back at the fire and didn’t respond. Wil suspected that Mara was hiding a secret regarding her mother. Maybe she was a runaway noble’s daughter, or she left the academy for some reason. Wil had heard stories of similar things happening in the past.

“Being talented in using magic is really rare. I can see why your father would want to stay home and protect her.” Wil ventured, trying to keep her engaged.

“It’s not why he stayed home.” She said shaking her head. She took a deep breath, before looking Wil in the eyes. “She’s a half elf. It wasn’t safe for her to stay in Essen alone. Dad was worried about how people would react if they knew.”

“That explains it! You’re quarter elven!” Wil said, sitting up straight, a grin on his face at having finally figured out what had been bothering him about Mara.

“Explains what!” She said, standing up and looking like she was ready to fight him. “Don’t tell me you’re some simple-minded bigot like all the rest of them!” She yelled, pointing outside the shelter.

Many humans in the Empire disliked Elves, and the prejudice extended to their half elven children. She couldn’t believe that Wil was the same.

“No no no, that’s not what I meant at all.” He said, waving away her angry words. “I had been wondering why you were so talented with your sword. You’re unnaturally light on your feet, like a dancer! Being part elf just explains it.” He said, lifting his bowl of soup and starting to eat again.

“Oh…good.” She said lamely, sitting back down and staring at Wil. “For a moment I thought I was going to have to stab you.”

“Well, good thing we cleared that up then.” He said, smiling at Mara as he continued to eat his soup. “Besides, I would be a huge hypocrite if I judged someone by their heritage.”

“Are your parents that bad?” She asked cautiously.

“Not my mother, but my father, yes.” He responded. “But that’s not what I meant. It would be hypocritical to judge you or your mother for your heritage, when I’m part Elven as well.” Wil said, putting down his now empty soup bowl.

“Your part Elf!” She yelled in shock, standing upright and pointing at him.

“Yes? You didn’t know? Most nobles have Elven ancestry. I thought that was common knowledge?” Wil asked, confused by her reaction.

“It most certainly is not! I can’t believe it! All the grief my mother went through for being a half elf, and it turns out that she’s probably related to some Duke or something!” She said, furious on her mother’s behalf.

“Maybe a distant cousin at best. Most of the Elven bloodlines are from half elves marrying into a Nobles Family, trying to give a boost to their progeny’s talents.” Wil lectured, as if he were still at the academy.

“That’s…revolting!” She said, shocked at the revelation.

Wil nodded at her words. “Trust me, that tidbit is tame compared to most of the things that happen behind a Noble’s closed doors.”

“Then why don’t they step in? Stop the bigotry against half elves?” She asked.

“Why would they? The Nobles share the same distaste of elves that the masses have.”

“But they’re willing to marry half elves?”

“Welcome to Illyrian Nobility! Full of contradictions!” Wil said, throwing his arms wide as if he were a showman, introducing a circus act.

“I can see why you’re so messed up, growing up like that.” She said, looking at Wil sadly.

“It’s just a matter of perspective. To the people I grew up with, you’re being the unreasonable one.”