The two women were alone on their journey, weeks away from the nearest divine city, days from even a remote village, and the land showed this. Here, far away from the domain of the gods, the land was uneven, the sun shone not as brightly, and the animals that stalked the hills were not tame, nor friendly.

The younger was walking ahead to find a way through the terrain, glancing back at her companion every few steps. A grey mantle laid over her shoulders, protecting her from the mundane elements, and she had pulled her hood far over to obscure her face. Her breath was heavy after the six hours they had already marched, but it was nothing compared to her companion, much too old for the strain of travel this far away from the gods.

"Master, please we must go a little further." The younger called out, walking back to her companion. The other woman was dressed in a similar coat, though it was embroidered with silver threads to denote her superior status. She took the younger's hand, and together they braved the last hill, with difficulty. "Thank you, Dema." The older woman sat down at the top of the hill, her heavy breathing interrupted by violent coughing. "Please, I need just a moment."

While her master caught her breath, her student walked in circles, looking at the desolation around them. Nothing but steeps and inclines, wild plants, trees scattered at random, not even a dirt road hinted at another human. "Master, why must we take this way? I think we should head east." She dropped her heavy bags, all four of them hitting the ground with a thud. "Our supplies are getting low and we can't eat books or gemstones."

The older pulled the brim of her pointed hat up a little, and rose her head to stare into the skies above, covered with clouds, even though there was not going to be rain. "Demadara, dear. I am branded." She ran a hand across the black mark stitched across her left cheek, a web of lines denoting her as a mage and apostate. "We are lucky that the Judge only had us exiled, near anywhere else we would not have left the city alive. If I showed my face even in one of the hamlets around here then being chased away would be the best we could hope for. We are far away from the Twin Academies."

Demadara shook her head and stuck her hands into the pockets of her coat. "You should have told me earlier what you were, you didn't have to lie to me." Her head hung low. "Why didn't you just let them take the books, make up something, lie, anything. It would be better than this." She bit her teeth together as her stomach growled loudly again, like it had the past couple of days.

"I am a follower of the Scholar first, anything else second, Dema. I must stand by what I know to be true, regardless of the consequences. We can only thank the Judge for her grace and what we were allowed to take with us, and what she overlooked."

The older rose back on her feet, ignoring Demadara who was rummaging through the bags to look for the rest of their food stash. "Though I do agree that this terrain is truly blasphemous, we should continue on before the sun sets. With some luck we may find a cave, anything so we don't have to sleep in the open."

Her student had found a small bag of dried berries and was busy shoving them into her mouth. She had taken off her glove and felt the cold wind brush across her skin, covered in old, jagged burn marks. With her hunger barely sated she shouldered the four bags again and lead the way down the treacherous hill, needing to stop twice to guide her master down a particularly nasty slope.

It was their first stroke of fortune in weeks that they did find a small cave, just as dusk was settling in. They could barely sit without their heads scraping the wall, but it was relatively dry, and empty. "The gems please, Dema." Her student rummaged through the bags, and pulled out a small box full of amber-coloured gemstones. "We don't have many left."

"Then we should use it for more than one purpose, no? Why don't you make the fire this time." Demadara squirmed but relented. She took out one of the gems and placed it in her palm, closing her eyes. She focused fully on her sense of touch, until she could sense the lingering strength within the gem, the condensed life force that gave it it's power. Then she opened her eyes, able to see what she had only felt previously. She bent her fingers into a claw, and muttered the guiding words. "Heat from fire, fire from heat. Heat from fire, fire from heat."

The gem's colour began to dim as it's life force was drained and entered Demadara. The sensation caused her fingers to twitch and eyes to widen, she rose up her other hand, bending her fingers again. A silver flame appeared in her palm, slowly spreading and giving off warmth and light. Every fibre of her being screamed for her to get away from the dreadful flame, as every scorched mark on her body flared up as painfully as the day she was branded. But the apprentice fought against her body and persevered. Demadara carefully placed it on the ground near the cave entrance, where it grew in size until it was big enough to warm her and her master. The moment her task was done she scurried away to the back of the cave like a frightened animal, away from the fire as far as she could.

"Very good. You could even see it this time, your progress is quite commendable." The power had left Demadara's body, leaving her empty yet again, and even her master's praise was not enough to fill it. "You may soon not need guiding words either." Her master was leaning against the walls of the cave. "Could you please give me 'Treatise on the gods' again?" Her student obliged and looked through their bags. She finally found it next to a massive box that her master had been insistent on carrying with them. After handing her master the book she again stared at the box.

It was made out of a metal Demadara had not heard of before. It was lighter than steel, and of a golden tinge. Her eyes darted over to her master over and over, making sure she was completely engrossed in her book. Then she finally reached out, and opened the lid.

She had expected more books, perhaps a second stash of gems or money. She found something else. Wrapped in a blanket of black velvet laid a large, dark purple orb. It reminded Demadara of the pearls on the necklaces of noblewomen, who usually fetched a good price whenever she had gotten her hands on them. But this one was huge, almost as large as her head.

Her curiosity won over her limited magical training, and she reached out to lay her hand on the orb. The sensation took her breath away. Without prior focus she could feel the power, the energy residing within the orb, greater than she had ever known, ever thought possible. Only once had she perceived anything similar, on the day she had stolen a glance at the Avatar of the Judge

"Let it go, right now!" The shout of her master pulled Demadara back into reality, though she did not obey. Her hands were trembling. "What, what is that, how do you, how are we in this place!" With all her willpower she pulled her hand away, the feeling of emptiness only fuelling her anger. "You could level a city with that much power, you could break a mountain! Why are we scurrying around like insects when I was carrying this thing all this time?!"

Her master glared back at her. "That is no mere gem or trinket to be used lightly, Dema. It is the heart of the scholar, entrusted to my line by the great one himself. It must not fall into the hands of the other gods, they must not know that it exists, and what better would give it away than me pompously using it to make things easier?"

She closed her book and shook her head. "I know the temptation, Dema. But followers of the Scholar uses their powers only in defence, the search of truth, and to help those less fortunate. If we stray from that, we become no different than those who banished us."

Demadara's body was still trembling, though she closed the box again. She pulled her hood back and stared into the silver fire she had created. The colour matched her pure white hair and skin, the parts not covered in intricate burn marks, too curved and proportioned to be natural. Three claw marks ran across the right side of her face, old enough that she no longer felt an itch.

Her student was glaring holes into her master, her knuckles turning white. "You could build an army." The teacher scoffed. "To give the legions an even bigger target? Do not be ridiculous, Dema. Be glad that you grew up in peace, that you did not hear the sound of them marching. The very earth trembles, they block out the horizon, numbers beyond counting. No. We are to bring the heart north east, the academy will keep it safe."

"Don't tell me I grew up in peace." The younger hissed, her eyes narrowing. "The only peace I knew was these last two years with you." Her teacher closed her eyes, and lowered her head.

"I did not mean to belittle you, or your suffering. But trust me, as someone who lived through a war, it is more gruesome than you can imagine. And I would rather die than bring that suffering upon the world again."

Demadara did not sleep when her master did. She stayed up, staring into the fire's she had made. She could feel her marks all over her body flare up, the laughter she had banished to the back of her mind so long ago run in her ears again. Twice she prodded her master, to make sure the woman was sleeping. Then she once more opened the box, and laid both hands on the orb. The feeling of sheer power filled her body, eased her pain and silenced the voices. She needed it.

The student took her time. She rummaged through their bags until she found the one knife they had been allowed to take with them. She spun it in her hand, throwing it up and catching it as she crawled over to her master who was laying on her back, sleeping sound with a calm smile on her face.

She knew what to do, she had done it a dozen times. This was the first time that her hand wavered as she brought the blade to her throat. She sliced across, and pushed her other hand on her mouth, muffling the last confused screams and gargling as her life left her. She could not look at her, and quickly turned her back, cleaning the blade on the seam of her coat.

With all the time in the world she now went through all of their, her, bags. She shook her head at all the books, all the useless books. 'On the nature of the divine', 'The nature of states', 'The trinity of mind, body and soul', and countless others that had nothing to do with Arcanery. She piled the useless books up at the end of the cave, lightening her load by almost half.

With her luggage sorted, she returned to her prize. She pulled the heart of the Scholar out of the box, and pulled it close to her chest. The warmth of power that flowed through it into her eased the disgust she had been feeling, and calmed her nerves.

Time passed without her noticing, when she rose her head again the morning sun shone through into the cave. Inside the box she found a set of leather straps, with which she bound the heart to her side. At a glance it looked just like an eccentric crystal ball, and she as little more than another pretentious fortune teller. She shouldered the bags and gave a last glance at the corpse of her master.

"Thank you for everything." She could only mutter under her breath. After leaving the cave she looked back at the entrance, and narrowed her eyes. Her hand on the heart, and she let it's power course through her. Clenched her hand to a fist, the entrance to the cave collapsed under rubble.

"I hope you can rest in peace."

Demadara kept her head low as she continued her way. And whenever her thoughts darkened with regret, she rested her hand on the heart again. She finally had power. No one would torment her again.