A month later. “Oh, you want a buffeting?” I say aloud menacingly, flaunting my daggers in a reverse grip with the edges out at a tree I have randomly selected to be my “opponent”. I’m practicing the moves I learned to do during spars with Severin. “You want to fight me? Ah, no… You are unworthy of being my opponent. Hm? What did you call me? Take this, then!” In a flurry of attacks, I strike the trunk of the tree, leaving cuts, marks, and dents on its dark, rough bark. I occasionally slip in a kick or two to make my battle against my imaginary opponent more realistic, but I only end up hurting myself. The dull sounds of metal meeting wood surround me with every hit I make, giving me a small sense of satisfaction as the sharp edges slice through the tough outer layer. I’ve become more nimble, more reactive… mayhap impulsive, even. This might be enough to put a stop to my father, but I must do more, I must continue to improve; not when it will be two people against an entire nobleman

Alas, 'tis another day working alone in the village… There have been no signs of my beloved friend, not even after the news about the death of Lord Edgar a month ago. I do not believe it one bit that he had died due to a disease, nor of natural causes, despite the knights’ announcements that day— they’re hiding something, and I know it is because Maia caused his death… I can feel it! T’was exactly a sennight after she left that the lord died; it is the only thing that makes sense. Maia had successfully slayed a Davidson. As terrified as I was for her when she was insistent to leave the village all alone, I was filled with pride upon discovery of a noble's death, and I am quite glad that t'was the old fart who passed… eradicating him must've helped Maia get one step closer to achieving her goal. As I roll the cart across the village to deliver barrels of grain to the village’s brewer, a couple of villagers greet me on my way, asking the same questions they always ask me since the day

“Go where, now?” I ask the excited brunette, who gently drops all of the items she has stolen from the village into my arms. “What are you going to do, again?” “I need you to head back to the pit house on your own for now— do not push yourself if you cannot make it thither alone, though!” “Pray thee, tell me why am I going to leave you in this village?” “There is something I need that— as I’ve heard— can only be bought in this specific village,” she answers as she pulls back her hood over her head. “I can make it back on my own, you need not worry. Be careful on your way back, alright?” With a hesitant nod, I watch her smile at me and carefully exit the forest edge, blending into the crowd when a cart-pulling donkey passes by. She disappeared fast! About two days ago, we were attacked by this odd organization who called themselves “The Unkindness”. Their name can only mean two things to me: they are merely the epitome of malice and ill will, or that of a flock of ravens, which ha

“Oh, oh! How about setting my daggers aflame?!” I exclaim excitedly as I share my thoughts with Severin. I am preparing a salt brine in a pot for the vegetables he and I stole today to preserve them. “That way, it can seem like I am using magic as well! You must tell me that that counts as something!” “And set not only yourself, but everything else on fire by accident?” the green-haired man replies, turning to me from his position in front of the table with a straight face. “That is no better than the last six ideas you’ve suggested, Maia.” With a pout, I submerge the reddish-purple root crops into the brine and place the pot over a fire. “I’m merely being true to life with these ideas. Mayhap it can help us improve as a team!” “Of course, because blasting magic out of one’s hands is true to life.” “You’re practically a living enigma, Severin. Would you mind adjusting the fire for me? Gramercy.” Nose-deep in his mother’s journal, he promptly lifts his arm and flicks his hand upwa

Opulence is too often thought highly of… “I want to cast a spell again!” I've never thought somebody with no experience in the mystical and unnatural could do the impossible— I cast a spell with Severin, and it worked! I have… also never thought I would trust someone so much like that. Despite my fears and hesitance yesternight, he did not judge me nor speak about me holding his hand. I felt like a child, suddenly holding someone’s hand out of fear, but the way he held my hand back was… emboldening. It gave me strength, and I do not think I’ve ever felt that way with anybody before. As I shake my head to rid my thoughts of him, I try to refocus on the makeshift dummy my green-haired ally created and tied to the same tree I trained on before. It barely resembles a humaine being, but the effort is there— I’ll give him approbation for that, at least. Oh, I shall name it Mallory! I think the name is rather fitting. “Alright, Mallory,” I say, breathing out of my nose as I walk backwa