While technically every practitioner is able to make use of every Art, the different affinities each individual may have will greatly influence the result and effort needed. A practitioner with a talent for earth for example will not find it difficult to summon a stone guardian.

However, something fundamentally different like a gust of wind will result in an exponentially higher expenditure of magic, therefore not making it worth the cost. It is due to this same reason for which most users inherit complementary affinities, as combining different Arts becomes exponentially more difficult the further they differ from each other.

From A beginner’s guide into the magical Arts by Zakaria Bates

Silas ran blindly into the dark woods ahead of him. He could hear the barbarian’s footsteps and heavy breathing from somewhere behind him. Right foot tripping on a protruding root he fell on his face, letting out a shout of surprise.

Quickly peering over his shoulder, Silas saw how the barbarian had it even more difficult than he did. Treacherous roots, unseen branches, and the high undergrowth hindered his large bulk from advancing.

The forest Silas found himself in was teeming with life. He could hear the sounds of various insects chirping. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees, many of which were unknown to him.

It looked as if the moonlight shot beams of light through small gaps in the canopy. The grayish color from the trees reflecting the scant light, adding a metallic and otherworldly sheen to their trunks.

The majority of the tree’s trunks were shorter than an arm was long. This was a stark contrast to the giants he knew from Bildsfell, his hometown to the north. It took a moment for Silas’ eyes to adjust themselves to the near darkness of the woods. He barely avoided falling down a second time, stepping over another unseen root.

Silas’ thoughts were a complete mess. The death of his parents repeated itself in his mind’s eye like a loop. It forced Silas to live through the incident every time the loop began anew, reminding himself of his helplessness.

Edgar, bleeding out on the ground, trying to stand up time and time again as he watched his wife being killed.

The barbarian, advancing towards Silas with hate in his eyes, his two cruel axes dripping with the blood of his parents.

Hannah, pushing him out of harm’s way, seeing the descending axes and stepping forward despite the certain doom they promised.

Silas remembered how Hannah frantically tried to blind the barbarian with her nails, her arms continuing to claw at the barbarian’s eyes despite her mortal wounds.

Seemingly frozen in time, the scene where his mother sacrificed herself to stop the barbarian from reaching him imprinted itself on Silas’ mind. His whole body shook with sheer rage when he remembered himself sitting on the ground on all fours, helpless.

Completely impotent to stop the barbarian from killing his mother.

Silas could still hear him. Somewhere to his left, the barbarian was searching for him, appearing to have lost sight of Silas. Half-blinded as the barbarian was, he kept bumping into overhanging branches and stumbling over roots, cursing along the way.

Silas didn’t stop running, though. Not that he could. Neither did he know where he was running to. He was just running away, trying to escape.

Trying to escape from the trauma, the death, the terror, all of it.

Some time passed, and Silas didn’t even realize the barbarian had stopped trying to find him a long time ago. By now, the barbarian had probably succumbed to the spear wound in his back. Still, Silas kept on running, thinking of how alone and abandoned he felt. The shadows and the trees around him were his only companions.

Again, he remembered his mother sacrificing herself to save him. He saw himself cowering on the ground, his eyes full of fear and unable to move a single muscle.

Not watching where he was going, Silas tripped and fell again. He was completely oblivious to the scratches and bruises he kept accumulating during his mad flight. The adrenaline was starting to wear off by now and Silas quickly started to grow tired, the mental and physical strain he had been put under making itself known.

After looking up Silas noticed a tree so large it dominated over all the others. Its branches were so long and numerous no other trees dared to grow near it. Silas might be able to climb it up and seek shelter between its branches so he resumed his trod, trying to distract himself with a clear goal in mind.

Keeping his gaze on the giant, he put one foot in front of the other. His desperation and rage kept bubbling up, threatening to overwhelm him. How could anybody be so cruel? His parents hadn’t done anything to anybody, ever.

This was supposed to be their first large trip together as a family. Silas had looked forward to it for months, pestering his parents nearly every day about it.

Now the only thing he got from it was pain and loss.

His vision turned blurry again and he wiped his eyes with his torn sleeve, getting dirt in his eye. Silas was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn’t even take notice of the pain in his legs. The bushes continued to rip at his skin with every step he took. The thin trousers he wore were little more than rags at this point, threatening to fall apart at any given time.

Silas needed to sleep, to forget. He played with the thought of just lying down and trying to not wake up again, but some part of him kept going. He eventually arrived in the clearing that surrounded the massive tree, its intimidating form shaking Silas out of his delirious state.

The tree's trunk was even bigger than he’d imagined, having spotted it from afar. It seemed completely out of place, with no tree in the whole forest able to compare to its massive form. The branches were so big they could’ve easily been the trunks of other trees. The leaves themselves were as large as his head, if not bigger.

Being lost for a second in the majesty of it all, Silas forgot why he approached the tree in the first place. After following the roots up to the branches with his eyes, he remembered and Despair once more took hold of him.

There was no way he could climb it up.

Not only was he sure to die if he should fall from one of its branches, but there was simply nothing to climb. The lowest branches were so high four men stacked on top of each other would barely be able to reach one of them.

Not enduring it any longer, Silas fell to his knees. He had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, nothing. He lifted his head, inspecting the leg-thick roots sticking out of the earth. They looked to have small gaps between them, which would offer him at least some protection.

Promising himself to get up one last time, he began to walk towards them.

Coming closer, he noticed the gaps between the roots were barely large enough for him to pass through. Having no other options, Silas began to squeeze himself between the roots, trying to find a dry place to sleep in. After passing through the first layer of roots, he saw the bottom of the trunk for the first time.

What struck him as yet odder than the thick roots growing at the surface like a wooden spiderweb was the gap right in the middle of the trunk. It looked to be just a few feet in diameter, making it large enough for Silas to sleep in.

While he was afraid there might be some animal living there, he was also too tired to care. The little niche struck Silas as quite cozy, but way more important to him, safe.

The gap between the roots in front of the niche was not huge, but Silas managed to wriggle through it with a bit of a struggle. He collapsed on the soft earth inside, hardly having closed his eyes before his mind started to drift off.

His dreams were plagued by nightmares.

In his mind, the scene from the evening replayed itself. Only this time, he saw it all happen from above, watching himself do nothing. Again, the barbarian killed his mother, reminding Silas of the sickening crunch when the axes lodged themselves deep into her neck.

Silas saw himself sitting on the ground, his father’s lifeless corpse staring at him with pleading eyes.

“Why didn’t you do anything, Silas?” they asked him wordlessly.

Silas saw himself trying to answer. His jaw started to shiver uncontrollably. He didn’t manage to get a single word out, too shaken by fear as he had been. In stark contrast to Edgar’s dead body sprawled on the ground, his father’s mouth began to move this time, asking Silas once more.

“Why did you just let her die like that?” Edgar demanded of him, now looking up at the spectating Silas.

“I tried, father!” he cried out.

“Did you? Did you really try?” his father was screaming at him now, rage evident on his face.

Eyes going wide, Silas realized his father was right. Paralyzed by fear, he hadn’t even tried to save them. It had been his weakness which had killed his parents and nothing else.

Realistically speaking there was hardly anything he actually could have done, being an innocent boy who had yet to reach his fifteenth summer. But that didn’t help him justify his lack of action, and neither did it enter his train of thought.

It was at this moment that Silas swore to himself he wouldn’t ever again let fear dictate his actions. Like a drowning man swimming against the current Silas fought against the overwhelming terror he felt, trying to beat it with sheer willpower alone.

He used the guilt he felt to overcome his fear, subconsciously exchanging one evil for another. If only he’d have done something, anything, they’d probably still be with him. Time and time again Silas’ nightmare reminded him of his impotence, the guilt he felt accumulating every time the loop repeated itself.

After endless repetitions the mental torture his own mind put upon himself finally stopped, the traumatic scene fading away slowly. Dreaming, Silas floated inside a white mist, feeling completely abandoned by the world. The thick mist surrounding him was endless and completely devoid of life.

Nothing indicated which way was up or down, left or right. Floating through the mist he tried to spot a way out, although to no avail. Silas kept on searching for an indescribable amount of time before eventually giving up.

With nothing to indicate whether he had moved at all and no way to escape Silas soon felt completely trapped inside the white mist. His feeling of helplessness and abandonment kept getting worse. Caught in a downward spiral, Silas’ state of mind derailed further until it eventually reached a critical juncture.

He could not continue like this.

He could not continue to live in this world alone, with nobody he cared for and nobody who cared for him.

Something snapped inside of him.

From his innermost depths, Silas reached out as only a child having lost everything could have done. With despair guiding his actions, Silas tried to find anything promising him relief from the pain he felt.

During his nightmares the young boy thrashed in his sleep, kicking the walls of the small niche he slept in. The raw emotion released from Silas on that night would have shocked anyone, although there was no one around him to notice.

No one, except the tree he slept in.

And what a tree it was. Many rumors circulated in the nearby villages about it and its origin. One stated there once was a man foolish enough to try cutting a few roots to sell the ancient wood. The same man was later found with a large hole in his chest, lying a dozen feet away from the tree.

Nobody had been able to explain what had happened to him, not even the village elders.

Another rumor said the tree hadn’t grown in the forest, but the forest had grown around the tree. It was generally considered to be the oldest tree in these woods. Some went so far as to consider it sacred, seeing it as an incorporation of nature itself.

While that may be exaggerated, it also wasn’t so far from the truth. The tree had existed for millennia, seeing kingdoms rise and fall without anything disturbing its slumber.

Except maybe an over-eager fool with a saw.

Being as old as it was, the tree had grown into something more than a simple plant. Over the years it had managed to attune itself to the Art of Nature, facilitating its massive growth.

Although the Art of nature was one of the most powerful Arts, such was not common knowledge. The high scholars of the Guild of Mages themselves didn’t know about it, believing the Art of life to be one of the most powerful ones.

With its insights into the Art of nature the tree developed a kind of sentience unique to its kind. Instead of reacting to its environment, the tree chose to spend most of its time pondering on the deeper secrets of nature. Therefore, almost nobody knew about the power of the incredibly ancient and sentient tree.

It was this sentience that took notice of the little boy thrashing around in his sleep. For the first time in centuries, the mysterious giant woke from its deep meditation. Quite surprised by the little human sleeping inside its trunk, the tree decided to observe Silas for a while before choosing what to do.

Silas however was still trapped inside his nightmare.

He frantically reached out with his mind, trying to find anything to supplement the loss of his parents. And albeit the tree was neither able to bring back his father nor his mother, it was nevertheless deeply moved by the palpable despair radiating from the little boy. The feelings were so intense they seeping from the bottom of its trunk into its very being.

After a moment of contemplation, it reached the decision no entity should have to live while going through so much suffering. Especially not one as young as Silas was.

Pondering on possible solutions, the ancient giant briefly considered sharing some of its magical insights with the little boy. The tree noticed small aspects of the Art of Nature within the small human, making it a real possibility.

Yet it was more likely his feeble mind would shatter in the process, not being able to contain such vast knowledge. The tree therefore quickly discarded the idea, thinking about other options to help the boy. What he needed was somebody at his side.

Having a moment of clarity, the tree knew what it must do.

The tree once more looked at the young human, confirming he had the necessary prerequisites. The tree then began to concentrate on its insights into the Art of Nature. The next few steps would require complete concentration.

Despite being incredibly old, this wasn’t something it had done before. Half of the night passed while the tree used its Art to create the gift for the despairing boy sleeping inside of it. After it finished, the tree severed the bond connecting its new creation to itself. Giving it a nudge into Silas’ direction, the tree watched how it approached the human with hesitation.

Being quite content with the solution it had come up with, the tree congratulated itself for its wise decision. For a gift so small it had exhausted the tree way more than it should have.

‘Maybe I’m getting old’, it thought to itself.

But the tree was nevertheless pleased by the outcome. Besides, it was sure the boy would appreciate the little gift it had made for him.

After all, the tree went so far as to take a small part of itself for the creation of the little fellow. Not that it mattered, the tree would recover given enough time. Maybe the gift he made for the boy would find its way back to him one day, who knew?

With a sigh shaking its top-most branches and causing the plate-sized leaves of the canopy to rustle, the tree returned to its deep slumber.

Meanwhile, Silas continued to be trapped inside his nightmare, searching the mysterious white mist for an exit that wasn’t there. And while the mist still seemed oppressive and empty at the same time, he now began to perceive something new.

This something gave off feelings resonating with him in a manner he couldn’t quite decipher. Focusing on these strange feelings, Silas realized they were the same emotions he so desperately tried to overcome: The sensation of being alone and abandoned.

Silas instinctively tried to reach out to the unknown. A bridge began to form itself, carrying Silas’ own emotions over to the other side. Soon afterward a sensation of acceptance and relief entered him, and the bridge manifested itself. The sensations coming from the other side became clearer with each emotional exchange. This bridge ultimately transformed into a bond, lodging itself deep into his very being.

Surprise overtook Silas.

At first, he felt slightly apprehensive of the unknown entity he had just formed a bond with. But Silas soon took notice of the innocence and helplessness the being radiated and stopped to worry. He was able to understand the feelings of the unknown entity as if they were his own.

Silas’ emotional burden seemed to get easier, similar to a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Strangely enough, the mist started to dissipate all of a sudden until it finally disappeared completely. Silas was finally able to sleep unhindered.

He managed to sleep through the rest of the night without having another nightmare. By now he felt quite safe inside the little niche he found in his escape from the barbarian.

As the sun climbed its way up towards the sky, the darkness of the woods grudgingly gave way to the rays of light that penetrated the canopy and illuminated the forest. The sun warmed Silas’ face for some time until he slowly began to wake up.

It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and how he got there. Remembering the events of last night, Silas began to sob. He didn’t want to open his eyes and confront the reality of his situation.

As the desperation began to overtake him, Silas noticed a new yet strangely familiar feeling of sadness. Although this new feeling didn’t come from himself, Silas realized it somehow was still a part of him. This confused him greatly and momentarily distracted him from his thoughts. Opening his eyes, Silas didn’t believe what he saw.

Amber-colored eyes met his own.

The creature in front of him tilted its head, regarding him with obvious curiosity.