Fred turned to look at the king. "Then what if they've been watching me?" he asked. Aurelius considered the possibility. "It's possible. Alas, we have no proof of that, not yet," he said. "Tell me something, lad. Has anyone approached you recently - specifically about your Pathlessness? Anyone you didn't know, anyone who might have wanted to test you?" Aurelius asked. Fred shook his head. "No one that I know of, sir," he said. "Have you been followed?" "Not that I'm aware of," Fred replied. Aurelius inclined his head. "Very well. I'll leave that to your parents to investigate," he said. Fred leaned back in his chair, his fingers curling into a fist against his thigh. The princess was in danger, and the people who had kidnapped her wanted something besides her. They were powerful mages, and they were willing to die for what they wanted. If they wanted the princess for leverage, there were easier ways to acquire her. Fred's thoughts were in

Fred thought back to the attack on the Academy. They hadn’t just fought randomly. Some had increased movement, some had separated the guards and students and multiple had focused on getting to Lyra. Their magic had been well co-ordinated. "They had planned what roles they would play." Alvin immediately understood. "At the Academy?" Fred nodded. "They weren’t just attacking whoever got in their way. Some created openings whilst others moved Lyra." "Remember that. A mage can be dangerous but a group of mages who understand each other can be much worse." Fred looked down at his sword. "What about weapons?" "Another variable." Alvin flipped through to a few diagrams. Most mages focus on their magic as that’s where they have the biggest advantage but weapons can help their Path. Alvin pointed to a Red Mage with a flaming sword. "Fire can strengthen their weapon and increase their range." The next image showed a Yellow Mage with an electric spear. "Lightning can increase their speed a

Far from Fred, Princess Lyra Ashre was staring at a stone wall. She had been for so long she could almost remember every crack. The room she was in had no windows. Only a lamp hanging near the entrance. Showing her the rough stone, locked door and thin bedding (which she had refused to use for most of the day). Her wrists were no longer tied. Instead, dark ropes were around her ankles. Whatever method they had used to tie them made it hard for her to use too much mana. She had tried a few times, carefully, and realised two things. They were strong. And whoever had made them knew exactly how dangerous she was. She leant her head against the wall. "Annoying." Footsteps echoed outside. She sat up. The door opened, and Felan Sravel walked in. Alone. She frowned. "It’s you again." He shut the door behind him. "I was starting to think you liked visiting me." "I was starting to think kidnappers usually had better things to do." "They do." "Then go do them." He smiled slightly. She d

Fred glanced toward the weapon at his side. "I usually carry one." The guard's expression suggested he didn't appreciate that answer. Another soldier approached. "What is it?" "Baron Meyer's son." The soldier looked at Fred. Then his eyes narrowed. "You're supposed to be at the Meyer estate." Fred remained silent. That was definitely not good. "His Majesty's orders," the soldier continued. "Students were dismissed, and you specifically were placed under your family's protection." Fred looked beyond him toward the Academy. "I only need a few minutes." "For what?" Fred didn't answer. The soldier stepped slightly in front of him. "Lord Meyer, you need to return home." Fred almost corrected the title out of habit. Instead, he asked, "Which gate did the kidnappers use?" Both men became quiet. The first guard frowned. "What?" "The carriage that took Princess Lyra." Fred pointed toward the Academy grounds. "It didn't disappear. It left through one of the gates." The royal soldier studied

Fred awoke with a pounding headache. He looked around, his vision blurry. Several lamps were attached to the stone walls above him, casting a pale light onto the ceiling. The air smelled of herbs and metal. There was also a strange smell that made his nose wrinkle. Fred tried to sit up. Something was pulling on his wrists. Looking down, Fred noticed his arms were strapped to either side of a thin stone table. Metal bands wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles. He tried to pull with more force, but they just tightened.Fred winced. His shoulder was throbbing. Every time he breathed too deep, his ribs would hurt and his back felt like it had been hit repeatedly with a hammer. He remembered fighting in the forest. The dark bands wrapped around his body. The final blow that sent him into unconsciousness. Fred was no longer on the road. Fred slowly turned his head. There were a lot of shelves. Glass jars, books and odd looking tools were spread around several wooden tables. Some jars