Waves of sunlight washed over the dark crimson skin of a young demon, melding seamlessly into the vortex of light and fire attributed Origin Energy churning around the crude stone platform on which he sat.

The boy’s breathing was erratic — a few shallow breaths followed by a long and sharp inhale. Whenever he breathed deeply, the surrounding energy would dive into his lungs, slowly integrating itself into his bloodstream and the currents of Mana flowing through his Channels. As the Mana and Origin Energy merged, the undesirable remnants were expelled, flowing out of the boy’s pores in the form of a thick cloud of smoke.

The townsfolk of Shimmering Heights often paused as they went about their daily chores to observe the smokestack drifting skyward from the ridge above. Many of them wondered what sort of strange experiments the mysterious Fae living there had been conducting this past week. To burn so much wood and charcoal for long hours every day... It was rare for the woman to reveal her presence in such a way.

“Atell, that’s enough! How many times do I need to remind you that meditating for too long can seriously strain your body!” Sivelle shouted as she descended the porch steps.

Atell’s eyes crackled with fiery light as he turned around to face Sivelle. “And I keep telling you that I feel fine. I can even feel myself getting close to that first Cycle!”

Sivelle released a deep breath as she thought about how best to drill her point into the boy’s thick skull. “Rushing through the Layers is even more dangerous than prolonged meditation. Accumulating Mana is all well and good, but it needs to be condensed and purified or you will find yourself facing unsurpassable barriers in your future cultivation.”

“I understand that, but I’ve tried the method you taught me to purify the Mana and it just doesn’t work for me!” Atell replied, furrowing his brow. “I’ve also condensed it as much as I could, yet my Mana Heart still feels like its ready to burst. I don't think I can prevent the Cycle unless I stop meditating altogether.”

Various renditions of this argument had cropped up frequently ever since Atell had started meditating at the beginning of the week. Sivelle adhered to a very rigid methodology when it came to meditation: For every two parts accumulation, one part purification and compression needed to follow. In her opinion, no other approaches were suitable for a burgeoning practitioner.

It seemed simple enough, but Atell’s body refused to act in accordance with his desires. No matter how long he spent gathering Origin Energy — his Mana Heart never struggled to keep up, smoothly converting it all into Mana in order to expand his Pool. Even more bizarre was that all the newly assimilated Mana seemed to already exist in its purest form. No matter how many times he strained it through his channels, no imbalances or pollutants could be felt or found.

“What you speak of is nigh impossible. I’ve spent decades searching for the meditation technique most closely aligned with the ratio of elements in my body and my current one is still far from perfect… I’m certain that the technique I have given you is more heavily skewed towards the fire element than the natural make-up of your Mana allows for. If you don’t purify your Mana and expel the excess fire energy, then your magic will become imbalanced.” Sivelle flailed her arms around as she beseeched her young charge.

“I get that! But I think my body just purges it naturally during the process. You’ve said it yourself — my body is very different from others. Maybe that has something to do with it?” Atell was more upset by Sivelle’s refusal to believe him than anything else.

“That could very well be the case… However, I’ll need to see your magic in order to confirm.” Sivelle grumbled. “Go on. I know you’ve been hiding your progress from me the last couple of days so that you can show off, but that will have to end for the time being.”

“...Fine.” Atell sighed.

A torrent of heat abruptly poured out of the boy’s body as he stood. The fierce current of dark golden light soared and surged through the air within the boundaries of the stone patio Sivelle had built for him at the edge of the lawn. Although Atell wanted to demonstrate his full might, it was best not to incur any additional expenses by torching Sivelle’s precious yard again…

Sivelle casually stepped onto the rough square stones, appearing completely unfazed by the harsh, dizzying tide. Her gaze was sharp as she sent her own frigid Mana into the surroundings to inspect any instabilities in the boy’s magic.

***

Irth slowly plodded up the final steep switchback, drawing ever closer to his destination at the crest of the mountain ridge.

The journey along the northwestern lip of the Severed Spine had been long and arduous, forcing the man to pass across rough terrain and the territories of many dangerous Mana Beasts. The path he took would have spelled certain death for the majority of experienced practitioners. It was a rare circumstance where Irth had to admit that his lack of strength may have benefited him during his travels. The most dangerous of creatures tended to dismiss his presence altogether, for he posed little threat as an Initiate. As a result, he was only challenged by a few of the lesser species that called the forests home.

Still, it wasn’t a trek he ever desired to make again. And if all went according to plan, he would hire a few mercenaries to help out with transporting supplies back to the tribe. Their new location was relatively safe, well outside of the Coven’s new range of activity, but the Hinterlands as a whole had descended into utter chaos. It was only a matter of time until numerous other tribes were displaced, forced to settle new land just like they had. Territorial disputes would soon ravage the land further.

Irth’s musings were suddenly interrupted by a familiar feeling of danger. His stride lengthened as he hurried towards the clash of Mana. This was the place that his nephew and their mutual benefactor called home…

His paltry Mana gushed through his Channels as he ascended the trail, arriving at the old Fae’s magnificent estate. Unfortunately, there was no time to admire the scenery as he once had. A low growl escaped Irth’s throat as he continued his charge towards the enemy.

The medicine woman was already locked in battle with a youthful Warlock when he arrived. The boy’s blood-soaked skin and blazing eyes fully displayed his savage nature as his loose black clothes billowed within the tumultuous clashes of energy. Irth instinctively felt the desire to shrink back, his blood cowering in the presence of a greater demon. It was likely that this Warlock was the young scion of a prominent Clan in the Ryuurin Dynasty. Harming him spelled certain doom, but there was no time to consider the consequences of taking action.

Irth roared, alerting the two to his presence. “Quickly! Take Atell and run. I’ll hold him off!”

A sudden burst of laughter caused Irth’s footsteps to falter. The grey-haired Fae’s eyes twinkled with merriment as her Mana surged, sending the young demon tumbling through the grass with a gust of wind.

“This little whelp still needs another century or two before he can even think of taking me on.” The woman’s vicious smile sent a chill down Irth’s spine.

“Er, right. Looks like you had everything under control,” he replied while avoiding her gaze.

“...Uncle!” The dangerous young demon shouted as he scrambled to his feet.

Irth’s heart and mind trembled in unison. “A-Atell…?”

‘No… it couldn’t be…’ His eyes registered that there was a resemblance between the boy rushing towards him and the nephew in his memories, but… the connection that should have existed between them was severed. There was no resonance between them like he felt with the other members of their tribe.

Irth staggered backward.

The boy’s sun-speckled eyes dulled as his approach faltered. “Uncle Irth… It's really me!”

“I-I know it’s you…” Irth uttered. No one else in this town would be able to speak to him with such familiarity aside from Atell.

Anger erupted in Irth’s chest as he continued to gaze at the young Demon. “What have you done to him!?” He turned back towards the Fae… he needed answers.

The woman shrugged, her nonchalance inciting him further. “Ask the boy. I think it’s best if I head inside to prepare some tea. I’m sure you two have plenty to discuss.”

Irth stepped forward, ready to chase after her, but his nephew held him back. “Uncle, it’s nothing bad, really. Give me a chance to explain.”

“Atell, I…” As Irth’s fury diminished it was rapidly replaced by deep regret. He knew. He knew that the boy could feel there was no longer a link between them. A painful ache throbbed in his chest. He should have never left the boy alone.

It was only supposed to be a short term solution, but problems kept cropping up during their relocation, and his strength as one of the few practitioners in the tribe was desperately needed. Now, Irth couldn’t help but feel that giving up this child in favor of the tribe’s safety was not worthwhile. At first, he had insisted that he pay off their debt to the Fae healer in place of Atell, but he had relinquished far too easily… trusted far too easily when she said that she would look after the boy and keep him safe.

How alone and betrayed Atell must have felt to be willing to forsake his own blood. Not that Irth blamed him…

“Uncle, it's not what you think! I— We are still family. There was just an... unexpected occurrence during my Initiate Ceremony. Although I am no longer a true Troll-Blood, that vestige of my ancestry still remains firmly in my heart, and it always will!”

Irth chuckled, struggling to keep his tears at bay. There were no words that could explain how he felt, so he simply wrapped his nephew up in a hug. It was the only proper way to respond to Atell’s earnesty.

How mature the boy had already become… As Atell returned the embrace, Irth swore he felt a faint spark of joy in his blood.

***

Atell drank greedily from the glass of water that had been placed in front of him on the table. The sun was already beginning to dip below the horizon as a cool evening breeze glided across the porch.

He had gotten a bit too excited recounting everything that had transpired over the last two years to his uncle and his voice was now completely hoarse.

Sivelle dragged over one of the large Adirondack chairs and sat between the two of them. “So, is everyone all caught up?”

“Ah, yes.” Irth scratched his head, smiling oafishly. “Master Sivelle, I must apologize for my impulsive actions earlier…”

“No need. I took no offense. And you can just call me Sivelle. Despite being my only apprentice, even the boy doesn’t refer to me in such a formal manner.” Sivelle finished with a smirk.

Atell coughed, ignoring her barb. He knew she was just teasing him. “Anyway… Uncle, when are planning on heading back? I’ll need some time to prepare everything.”

Irth immediately frowned in response to his question. “After everything you have just told me, you would still entertain such ideas?”

“W-What do you mean? My debt is settled and I’ve finally become a Warlock. I can help out the tribe now, keep everyone safe…”

“Atell, is this really what you think?” Irth interrupted. “Master Sivelle has shown you kindness that requires repayment far beyond what the exchange of coin can settle. I am disappointed that you would abandon her so readily.”

“I know that! But… I made a promise with Grandpa Tenshi! I said that I would protect everyone and I can finally do that now! Once everything settles down in the Hinterlands I can return here to work.” Atell glanced at Sivelle for affirmation, but she continued to watch their exchange with a passive gaze.

“The Hinterlands will never find true peace, Atell. We merely weather the passing storms. And if you think your current strength is enough then you are seriously mistaken. If even the Aurelians are subject to the whims of the greater powers can you say with confidence that you can succeed where they have failed?”

“I-I…”

“Atell… I know you are anxious to return home. But think about all that you have achieved here in such a short time. The knowledge that you have found here cannot be sought out in our tribe’s caves. Bloodline Awakenings, Origin Runes, Concocting… All these things I had never even heard of until you spoke of them with me today. Everything that you learn here is far more valuable to the tribe than the protection you can currently offer.”

Irth’s eyes were begging Atell to understand. And it wasn’t that he didn’t… He just couldn’t fight his desire to accompany his grandfather. Tenshi had been the rock that anchored him to this Plane when all he desired was to accompany his Father in the heavens. Prior to his flight, Atell could feel that his grandfather was getting desperate — so eager to fulfill his dreams of finding a safe and happy home, to see the tribe prosper before he passed…

He owed a lot to Sivelle, but he owed his grandfather even more. “Uncle, I need to be there to help Grandpa! You know that he doesn’t have much time left… I’ve already been away for far too long,” Atell pleaded.

Sivelle sighed, finally breaking her silence. “These are private matters, so I felt it was not my place to interject, but if it is your Grandfather’s health that worries you — I can offer my expertise. What kind of master would I be if I didn’t assist my apprentice.”

“R-Really?” Atell eyes blazed with the light of hope. Irth likewise perked up at her words.

“Of course. To live as long and healthily as I have, one needs to have a few tricks up their sleeve. Irth, I’ll have to ask you for a detailed description of the man’s condition later. But for now, there is one more thing I must say to Atell.” Sivelle’s cold blue eyes hardened. “Your uncle is right. If you really want to help your tribe, there is much more you can do for them by staying in the Dynasty. Even if it is not with me — the opportunities here are much more abundant.”

Atell looked downwards, unable to meet her gaze as she continued, “Your status as a Primo is extremely unique. Attaining a political rank of equal or greater standing than a City Lord is certainly not out of reach. With status, you would even be able to move your tribe into the Dynasty and establish yourselves as a Clan, attaining land for them to formally settle… Know that you are always welcome at my home, but I would also be more than willing to help set you down the path that you desire. This decision is not an easy one, so take some time to think it over.”

Irth got up from his chair and prostrated himself before Sivelle. “Master Sivelle. You are too kind to us lowly Trolls. I don’t know what we can offer you, but if you ever require our tribe’s assistance we would come running at your call.”

“Enough, please stand. I-I’m only doing what I should as a mentor.”

Atell smiled when he saw how uncomfortable his uncle’s declaration made the old Fae. But that only provided him a momentary distraction from his larger worries. “Can you give me a day…? You won’t be leaving before then, right Uncle?”

“Correct. I still have to collect the necessary supplies for my return,” Irth replied as he stood back up.”

“Very well. Take as much time as you need.” Sivelle flashed a brief smile.

Atell nodded his thanks, all manner of thoughts tumbling through his mind. It was going to be a long night...