“Call on your memory,” Loric said. “Think of a time you were vindicated, and someone condemned.”

Rane gazed at the thick darkness around them, illuminated only by the cabin’s faint lighting behind his back. Vindicated… When trying to run from Leylin, he had been rewarded for his patience. Then the man had been punished by whatever resided in that gem. The feeling from back then resurfaced in his mind, the pressure building in his chest only to be released when he reached safety. He blinked, and something in the far away darkness blinked back. An eye of pure white gazing right at him.

“Good. Focus on that emotion.” Loric had his hand on the sword’s hilt, and Linde had its blade inside her. “Release some of your nora.”

Rane let a wisp of grey mist drift from his palm. The eyeballs all around trembled, turning to gaze in his direction. He felt intimidated, but at the same time curious. What kind of magic was this? The eyeballs appearing were more like a natural phenomenon. It was as if… As if they had been there all along, and only revealed themselves at Rane’s behest.

One of the eyeballs came to rest in his hand, and another settled in Linde’s. Its gaze bore into him. The instinctive uneasiness of being watched, of always feeling like someone will be there when you turn around, only to find no one. Except this time, when Rane turned around, he saw it. A figure loomed over him, a shadow cast from every direction and swaying to the wind.

“May you wake to find you were only ever a dream.”

Its voice was little more than a whisper, barely audible. The shade was ethereal, something meant to be perceived only with the edges of one’s vision, that lurked in dark corners and hid away from stares. Always watching, but rarely being watched. Thankfully, Loric had prepared him for what he’d have to do. He lit a small fire in his hand and read from the instructions he’d been given.

“Eyes of the Arbiter, grant us sight. Take our nora, end the light. Make this oath an endless blight.”

Rane felt the shade touch him, stealing bits of warmth and life wherever it touched. He felt magic from it. Magic born without emotion, intent or purpose. Linde chanted with him, wisps of nora dripping from her face like tears and growing thin between the shadows. Without control over her own nora due to the blightsteel, it seeped from her entire body. The eyes around them pulsed with renewed force, becoming more prominent as the nora gathered.

“I, Rane, will provide Linde Nost with food and shelter for as long as she remains by my side. I will release her from this Oath at a time of my choosing.” Rane hesitated. He gulped and brought the eyeball to his mouth. It won’t taste like anything, Loric had said, but just the feeling of the writhing flesh in his palm was nauseating. He titled his head back and popped it in his mouth quickly, not letting it touch his tongue. The magic spread throughout his body as the eyeball dissipated, draining his nora wherever it passed. The pulsing, throbbing pain ran its course before settling on the right side of his chest. It went from pain to pressure, to nothing. Loric had warned him it would hurt, but compared to the pain Sydell had caused, it felt like nothing.

Linde doubled over and screamed. Loric had pulled the sword out of her right as the Arbiter’s magic entered. “I, Linde Nost, will never willingly harm Rane, nor leave his side without his explicit permission.” Linde swore through the pain. “While I remain by his side, I will do as he instructs and will not attempt to communicate with anyone else unless ordered to.” She pushed the final words out and collapsed onto the snow, panting.

“How do we know she won’t find a loophole?” Rane cleansed the reminders of the oath’s magic from his body.

“She might,” Loric said. He knelt next to Linde and tended to her wound. “But it won’t be easy. The Arbiter… The entity that governs over the Oaths can see beyond words, to the intent hidden beneath them.”

That made no sense to him. Magic was a well-defined, unambiguous practice. Forcing people to obey words already pushed the limit of what Rane had read in his books, let alone the meaning of those words. He looked around for the eyes, but they were already gone.

Linde propped herself up and spat. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Rane said. "Don't think I've forgiven you just because I agreed to meet your father.” He had seen the absolute power an Oath exerted several times, but he’d never been the one wielding it. It was time to test it. “Tell me the truth. Will your family’s emblem protect Loric? What did you come here to do? ”

“Yes. As long as it is visible on his person, no harm will come to him from any Nost member.” Linde gritted her teeth. “I’ve been instructed to bring you back to Silyra alive.” Her lips darkened and moved on their own. “We had been observing you using apparatuses meant for surveillance called birds.”

Rane silently mocked himself for trusting her so easily. Hadn’t he learned anything about how the world worked? “So there are things you’ve been hiding. Show me those ‘birds.’”

“Fine.” Linde extended both arms and waited. A few moments later, four constructs landed on her, gripping her sleeves. Despite being the size of crows, they looked more like insects, with pointy, elongated tips at the front of their design. The exterior was made of smooth, glistening metal.

“Amazing.” Rane walked closer and examined the machines. Balls made out of a rubbery material were attached to the base of their wings, so that they wouldn’t make any sound when they flapped. He picked one up with more strength than he should. They were surprisingly light. “How do they work?”

“This is my family’s secret, and what gives us an edge over–”

“Tell me how they work.”

“They’re a type of bonding artifact.” Linde’s mouth moved on its own again, her tongue becoming black to form each syllable. “Mages can use a portion of their nora to activate them. They can follow simple commands, but otherwise act autonomously and fly around close to their owner.”

Loric eyed the constructs suspiciously. “Seems like things have progressed since I left Silyra.”

Rane toyed with one of the birds. He could feel a small part of Linde’s nora in the form of mist swirling around inside it. "Retrieve your nora. I want to try it out." Linde did as he said, and the bird's wings that were flapping softly fell limp by its side.

"You won't be able to use it," Linde said. "They only respond to nora of the Nost family."

Rane willed some of his nora inside, filling the sphere Linde's magic had been in. Still, the mechanism didn't react at all. It was like his nora wasn't even there.

Linde read his expression. "What did you expect? You can't trick something my father has created."

Rane gave her a sideway glance. He focused on feeling the nora in his soul, separating the blue wisps from the rest and pulling them out. Even though he hated using power that he had gotten by killing, it made no difference in the end. Refusing to use it would not bring anyone back. He guided the blue nora to the sphere and the bird sprung to life, fluttering over his head. A faint outline of the mountain and Linde standing there overlapped with his vision, like watching the world through tinted glass.

"How?" Linde stared up at the bird with a dumbfounded expression.

"We all have our secrets." Rane focused on making sense out of the two viewpoints. Concentrating on one or the other was easier than he had anticipated, but made his head hurt nonetheless. He experimented with his nora, trying to figure out the inner workings of the construct. There were only three sources that drew power from it to function. The claws, the wings and a reflective glass panel near the front. When he steered his nora away from that, the bird's viewpoint faded. "Very intuitive. Were these made with apprentices in mind?"

"Yes." Linde paused and gave him a long look. "Although it usually takes them months of training to do what you just did."

"Don't underestimate my apprentice!" Loric patted him on the back. "He's talented!"

Rane could swear he was blushing. He turned to Linde and gave her another order. "Go back to the cabin and wait there." The Oath magic swirled around Linde, but she moved on her own, before it could take hold.

"The oath is useful, isn't it?" Loric chuckled.

"I'd use 'terrifying'…" Rane touched the Oathbrand on his forehead. It was a remnant from the days he wasn't a mage, and he still couldn't remember what Oath he had sworn. He and Loric exchanged glances and silence hung in the air. "It's finally time to part, isn’t it?"

“Not yet.” Loric wiped the blightsteel of Linde's blood and sheathed the weapon. He gave it one final, longing glance before placing it in Rane’s palm. “I originally planned to give it to my son, but that never came to pass. Take good care of it.”

Even with the scabbard, it felt light in his hand, sharp. Thin lines spread across the length of the metal, like twisting vines. The deep, green color had a glow to it, even in the dark of night. “This is too precious. I can’t accept it.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice.” Loric snorted. “I’ve trained you well for the journey ahead, but you need a weapon to match your new strength.”

“Loric…” Rane found himself tearing up. “Thank you. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had. These months with you have been the best I’ve ever lived.” Was it happiness that made him cry, or the fear that he’d suffer again? That he’d find a cruel and unwelcoming world waiting for him wherever he went.

“Oh, stop it.” Loric hugged him and patted his back. “What have I told you about crying?”

“I’m trying.” Rane wiped the tears away with his sleeves and strapped the scabbard onto his belt. . “Once I find my family and the answers I am searching for, I’ll come back, I promise!”

“There’s another reason I’ve entrusted it with you,” Loric said. “It may be the key to my freedom. I’ll be able to leave this place...”

Rane held the blade a bit closer. “What do I have to do?”

“It’s a long shot.” Even Loric himself sounded unsure. “But you’re a young and talented mage, so perhaps you’ll be able to meet the King of Silyra one day. He will surely recognize the weapon you’re holding, and perhaps annul my Oath.”

“I’ll do it!” Rane’s hand tightened around the hilt. “I’ll meet the King and set you free!”

Loric wore half a smile and shook his head. “I wish I had your optimism, boy. It’s just wishful thinking, so you focus on your own problems first.”

“I’ll prove to you that you made the right choice to trust me,” Rane said. “Just point me in the right direction.”

“Follow the mountain to the north, past the weeping crevice, then head west. You’ll find Raesmer, a village of lumberjacks. The merchants heading to Silyra would never turn down an extra bit of protection. With your skills, they might even part with some of their coin.”

“Thank you.” Rane turned to leave. The more he hesitated, the more painful parting became. Just his presence here endangered Loric, and traveling to the capital was the only way to find out why. Then perhaps he’d finally find rest… A normal life, with his siblings and parents.

“Hey, kid,” Loric called out to him. “Be careful.”

“You too, old man,” Rane said without turning around. He breathed in deep and the chilly air filled his lungs. His boots sunk into the snow as he climbed the hill, leaving behind a trail of footprints. Each one hid a different experience that helped him scale the steepest of mountains. Perhaps it was because the memories of his childhood were gone, but he could remember most days vividly. Was leaving a friend behind always so bitter?

“Why are you crying?” Linde waited for him by the cabin, just as he had instructed.

“You wouldn’t understand. You didn’t even grieve when your apprentice died.” Rane grabbed his backpack and started walking. “Come.”

“I’m a soldier,” Linde yanked the backpack from his hand. “If I mourned the dead I’d have gone insane long ago.”

“If you weren’t so arrogant… If you had treated Anne like a person rather than a soldier and approached peacefully, she might have still been alive.”

“Why do you even care?” Linde picked up speed and walked ahead of him, getting as far as she could until the Oath’s magic resurfaced.

They continued in silence, but the question swirled in his head. Why did he care? It wasn’t just his vow to his mother, but also his own stubbornness. What did it mean to be different from everyone else? The way he saw it now, it meant not to break. Not to give in to the stress and take the easy way out. Not to kill if he could help it. His eyes followed Linde’s torchlight as it outlined the trees. His mind drifted again, to how terrified of them he was when he first walked the mountains. He spent his time getting a hang of the bird's view. Even if he tripped a couple of times, he grew used to having a second pair of eyes that watched from above.

The snow lessened gradually, only reaching to his ankles. There wasn’t even a path to follow, but Linde seemed confident enough. The first tree stumps erased the last bits of doubt in his mind. The first wooden building crept between the thick woods just as morning broke. Rane almost mistook the biggest of the buildings for a giant stack of logs at first, ready to be split and loaded onto one of the horse carriages roaming the village. The thick wood had been neatly laid to form walls more than half the height of the tallest birch tree.

“I bought supplies from the villagers here, so most of them know me.” Linde opened the door to the inn and they quietly slipped inside. Despite it being so early in the day, it was surprisingly active.

“Ah, back so soon young missus?” The innkeeper greeted Linde with a smile. “And with a friend I see. Welcome! What can I do for yah?”

Linde didn’t share in his excitement. “Something warm, for the both of us. It’s been a long night.” She almost collapsed on the counter and let her head slump.

Rane looked around. The inn was warm, made out of the same type of wood as the cabin. For a village of this size it was surprisingly spacious, and there were stairs leading upward, to what he guessed were rooms for travellers. He glanced over his shoulders, at the other patrons. The men, all burly, had sunk in their chairs, downing hearty chugs of the liquor. Some conversed among themselves with lowered voices. Others sat by the fireside to stave off the cold, playing cards and occasionally feeding the fire more cinder. “It’s quite busy,” Rane said.

“Just the season.” The man behind the counter handed Linde her drink first. She did seem like she needed it. “Lotsa merchants looking for a place to stay while the virwood is cut. Here ye go,” the barkeeper handed Rane a mug the shape of a keg. “The finest firewater in all of Raesmer.”

Rane brought the ale up to his nose and fought the urge to wince. He loosened his grip on the mug and took a sip, one that burned his mouth and throat. It was more bearable than Loric’s ale, but not something he’d elect to drink.

“Strong, ain’t it? Ought to keep you warm.” The barkeeper chuckled. “What made a young ‘un like you come up north?”

“I came from the north,” Rane said. “We’re heading to the capital.”

The man raised an eyebrow and sized Rane up. “You surely jest,” he said. “You’re already in Raesmer. There’s no northern than here.”

Rane didn’t bother explaining. It was unlikely the man would believe him anyway. The barman didn’t insist on an answer either. Part of his job was making his patrons feel at ease.

“You mentioned merchants. Any of them heading south?” Rane asked.

“You arrived at a good time! Arvid and his boys are getting ready to leave.” The barman nodded in the direction of a group sitting near the fireplace. “Go ask ‘em if you’d like. Arvid’s an honest fella.”

Rane watched the group from the barside. They were tossing silver coin and cards around the table, getting some game in before the travel began. He focused his attention on the man who had earned the most coins. Square chin, black beard flecked with white, striking pale green eyes. Opposite to him, another man was shuffling nervously in his seat, face beet red by the booze. He had been losing, badly. It wouldn’t be long until–

“Arvid, you filthy cheat!” The man sprang up and turned the table over, sending cards and coins flying. “Give me back my money!”

“I won it fair and square!” Avrid yelled back. “Go breathe some cold you stinking drunkard.”

“What’d you say?” The man reached for the axe hanging from his belt.

“Stop.” Rane stood up, palm tightening around the hilt of his own weapon. Linde finally raised her head from the table and whispered a quick ‘don’t get involved.’

“Who in the blazes are you?”

“I’m Avrid’s hired protection,” Rane replied sternly. “So you should know better than to cause any more trouble.”

The drunkard lumbered towards him. “Go crawl back up your mother’s cunt before you get hurt, boy.”

Rane twitched. “Fine. You asked for this.”

“What? You gonna cry? Back off before I–”

Rane’s hands tingled as he unleashed the spell. Ice formed over the man and Rane pressed it downward. He had grown used to the spell. It had become easier, almost instinctive. He pushed the ice, forcing the man to his knees. Card games stilled. The tavern turned deathly quiet. People stumbled away from Rane, staring at him wide-eyed.

“M-Master sorcerer, I didn’t know. Please spare my life! Please spare my life!” The drunkard’s slurs cleared.

“Relax. I won’t kill you.” Rane eased the pressure and knelt next to the man. “How much did you lose?”

The drunkard blinked, as if confused. “Forty silvers.”

Rane fumbled for the coin pouch Loric had given him. One gold coin and fifty silver coins. That’s all he had. He stared at the shaking drunkard. The red of his face had given way to a pale white. Rane willed the magic away but the man still didn’t move.

“It’s okay,” Rane said, as mellow as he could. “Stand up.”

The man glanced up at Rane as he stood. He remained as still as a statue. By a single spell, he had been scared for his life. Rane felt some guilt. If he knew the reaction his magic would cause he’d have used his sword instead. He took forty silvers out of his pouch.

“Here,” he said and handed them to the man, who obediently accepted them. “Don’t stir any more trouble.”

“Thank you, Master sorcerer. I wouldn’t dare.” The man left the tavern hastily, perhaps afraid that Rane would regret his generosity.

Avrid smiled. His people were quick to pack up and pay after that performance. Rane felt he had done the right thing, what his principles dictated. Still, the stares he was getting made him feel awkward.

Linde left her drink unfinished and walked back to his side. “An opportunist,” she said, half mockedly. “Perhaps when this is over you’d like to follow me? An apprenticeship position recently became available.”

Rane stared daggers at her. “Shut your mouth.” He hated people who joked around death, reminded him of Sydell. Linde pulled a sour face and tried to protest, but darkness spread across her lips, forcing them closed. Rane turned to Arvid. “Shall we go?”

“I don’t remember hiring protection,” Avrid said, “but I’m glad that I did. Come, follow me outside.”

Rane smiled. The merchant seemed a clever man. “With this many people you could have handled the situation. I doubt he’d attack.”

“That is true, but conduct is important. If we raised our weapons we’d be the ones painted evil in people’s eyes.”

“If you care for the people’s eyes you shouldn’t be gambling.” Rane followed the merchant as they rounded the inn. Linde kept close in tow.

Avrid let out a hearty laugh. “I can’t help but indulge in some card play now and then. Call it my guilty pleasure. Still, I have to thank you.”

“No need,” Rane replied. “Just doing my job.”

“I assume you want to be paid for that.”

Rane shook his head. “We only want to travel to Silyra.”

“Ah, of course. You plan to join the Flames? Heard there’s strong competition this year.”

“The Flames?” Rane asked. “Never heard of it.” Linde mumbled something from beside him, but he ignored her. He felt a bit guilty for enjoying her silence.

“You don’t know?” Avrid raised an eyebrow. “A mage bout, I’d call it. Many sorcerers from all over Silyra gather to participate. I thought you one of them.”

A fighting contest between mages? Sounded vain and pointless. Besides, he’d had his fair share of fighting mages, and it hadn’t been pleasant. “We have other business in the capital,” Rane said, “and the quicker we get there the better.”

“There’s only one concern…” Avrid scanned Linde from top to bottom. “Is she your slave?”

Rane patted Linde’s back. “Just an insubordinate apprentice.” He could see her go beet red, even felt a tinge of her embarrassment settling in his chest. The more time he spent with someone, the easier it was for him to feel what they felt, it seemed.

“A bit heavy handed, but who am I to judge?” Avrid extended his hand and Rane shook it. “Welcome, friends.” Avrid wore an amiable expression as he guided Rane, Linde and his men to the stable behind the inn. Rane counted four wagons full of planks and logs, all firmly secured. “Go get them horses ready,” Avrid instructed one of his men.

“How long will the journey take?” Rane asked. He had to hurry to the capital and seek the protection of Linde’s family. Leylin was dangerous, and he knew the names of faces of his siblings. Now that Rane has escaped… There was a high chance that he’d target them. He’d proven himself crazy enough to go through with his threats.

“Three weeks usually, but we’ve done it in less.”

“You make it sound easy. What do we need to protect you from?”

Avrid patted a horse’s back. “That’s because it is easy. As long as you can take care of the occasional beast, you can sit back and enjoy the ride.”

"You're in luck." Rane wore half a smile. "I've been taught how to handle beasts by an expert."