Will Karnford was cleaning his master's dishes. They were all made of very rare and precious materials. among them he could see gold, silver, and even metals that weren't naturally made. "Nothing that I can have," Will muttered to himself. The thing Will loved to clean most was a chalice, made not of gold or silver, but of otherworldly materials, which always seemed to be full with a magical liquid that tasted like the user's most desired drink and increases their stamina and morale, sometimes affecting their magic ability or lack thereof. Despite being incredibly hard to clean, it was beautiful to Will, and he could never fault it.

"Too bad there are guards" he said. The guards would definitely stop him from using the chalice, and they might even kill him if he tried to drink from it. Being an indentured servant like Will though, meant that his life was pretty bad anyways.

'I just realized, I don't care anymore.' It didn't matter if there were guards or not, he would still drink. He picked up the glamorous chalice and; noticing the guards coming near, drank heavily.

Power surged within Will. He felt unstoppable. Though the drink tasted of cheep wine, his least favorite drink, he still loved it. The two guards were right by him and ready to strike. Words popped into Will's head. "Wishlor," Will shouted. The guards were frozen and unable to breathe a single breath. Suddenly drained, Will drank more of the addicting drink and walked on.

More soldiers with bows and blades got ready to face Will but he froze them, drank from the chalice, and walked into the cold night where no one would find him.

* * *

When Flyte woke up he was immersed in the beauty of nature, scent of summer, and the breath of the air. Ander sat by a bright orange fire, glinting in the bright sun. "You good," Ander said. When Flyte nodded the affirmative he said "Good cause we have to go."

Flyte was wondering what he meant, so he took too long and Ander dragged him all the way to the other side of the woods. It was just when they passed the brightly shimmering waterfall that Flyte noticed the big gash on Ander's head. He stopped Ander and said "Elgro" to make the wound close. Ander pushed Flyte away from him and ran to the waterfall. When he got there he washed off him face and sat thinking. Flyte noticed a distinct look on his face. 'Oh no, Ander doesn't like magic, does he'. Flyte walked to Ander and apologized.

"It's not your fault, you were just trying to help," Ander sadly said. "My personal life has just jaded me against magic." He then began to tell Flyte a story.

"It was fifteen years ago, when people still called me by my nickname Adder, and my Ma and Pa were in a protest against the king. The Dark Circle sent some of their own to snuff them out. I was visiting with them when five members just barged in. Without even speaking they killed them. I had just been chopping a tree down before it happened. I ran, shouting and screaming at them for killing the ones I loved. I quickly killed four of them, but the last turned my arm into some sort of moving stone. I then killed him with a quick swing of my arm. Each time I see magic I can't help but remember that if I had been quicker I could have saved them."

"I'm so sorry I had n--" Flyte started. Ander shushed him.

No wonder he hates magic. As Flyte set up camp, Ander hunted. With a set camp, good meat, and a fire they had a luxurious night of well cooked food, sweet water, and nice dreams.