Chapter 1

  Arnik awakens in the pitch-dark room and his mind mentally gropes for his surroundings while he lets himself adjust to his environment. It has to be the hour just before the darkness turns into light, he thinks.

  Outside his window, the dark sky is starting to lighten its colors while the city of Lidurnia sleeps on blissfully.

  Arnik lies in his bed some more as he smells the city air drift in through his window, the air is freshest at this hour. He turns a little to face the window and the bed protests against his weight with a loud creak. Arnik looks over to see if the sound has woken up his father, but he snores on peacefully and Arnik sighs.

  For as long as he could remember, it had always been he and his father against the entire world. His father had raised him all by himself while working as a manservant for one of the most prestigious families in Lidurnia, the Frost family. He still worked for them now and the attic room in which they slept was one of the many rooms reserved for long-term servants in the Frost's estate.

  With another sigh, it's looking like a day of plenty sighs, he swings his legs off the narrow bed and sets out to arrange his father's clothes for work. Maybe he will tag along and hang around the castle for today but he needs to start thinking long-term.

  He just turned fifteen last week. A man, his father had called him with a joyful tear in his eyes that melted Arnik's heart. There had been no birthday gifts for young Arnik, his father had said there wasn't any money. Arnik sighs again as he unfolds the big black pair of trousers, one of the few his father owns. He shakes it out to make sure no spiders had crawled into it during the night in the big wooden box where they packed their clothes. He drapes it over the only chair in the room and searches in the box again for a white shirt and waistcoat.

  "Arnik?" His father groggily calls out.

  "Good morning, dad," Arnik responds as he bends over to look for his father's shoes under the table.

  Shimon, Arnik's father groans as he rolls to his side. "It's morning already?"

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  "Yeah."

  Arnik had always been the morning person between the both of them. On so many days, his father would have just preferred to sleep. He was getting old after all being in his late fifties and Arnik did not blame him. But a servant was a servant and a Frost servant had to report for duties at 6 am every day in the Shadow room. He didn’t even know why it was called the Shadow room, it was just one of those things he grew up hearing.

  Shimon finishes his morning meditation ritual like he always does and turns to find his son cleaning his shoes. The boy has been a good lad to him, wiser than many boys his age and the thought makes him both happy and sad at the same time. He braces his hands on either side of the bed while remaining in a sitting position as he starts to speak.

  "Son, I know I haven't given you the life you deserve, you might even think that I have failed you."

  "Oh no, not again," Arnik mutters under his breath.

  This seemed to be one of those mornings when his father got caught up in his feelings. He knew where this was going, they had gone through this routine so many times in the last couple of years that Arnik had lost count. On mornings like this, he just allowed his father to start his speech, and get some of the guilt off his chest before he found a good way to get him to stop worrying.

  "I see how you admire the children that go to the Lidurnia School of Apprentice Mages and I know how you'd love nothing more than to get into it and explore your love for magic. But with every passing year, that dream gets more difficult."

  "Dad, let's not do this. We've been over it, we can't afford it, not in fifty years. The fees are so exorbitant and can only be afforded by the very rich families of the Lidurnia society. And even if we found a way, I might be too old already to awaken my magic circuit. So let's not go down that road", says Arnik with a boldness he feigns.

  Shimon struggles to get up as he battles with all of his guilt toward achieving his son's ambition. He is a tall man with a spry figure and a mop of black curly hair which his son inherits from him. Their distinguishing feature is their eye color; Shimon's is brown but Arnik's is green. Shimon looks into the green eyes now as he puts a hand on his son's shoulder to give it an encouraging squeeze. The boy has his mother's eyes.

  "I'm still sorry, my lad. As a father, there should be something I can do to make your dreams come true and that thought alone eats me up every day."

  Arnik shifts on his toes, lowering his eyes and wishing his father would just let go of the topic and dress up for his duties.

  "It's fine, dad. I genuinely understand."

  "I do not know if you really do or you are just saying these things to appease my feelings. I just wish things were different and I could witness my boy living a life he so richly deserves", Shimon finishes as he lets his hand fall from Arnik's shoulders back to his side.

  Arnik watches him out of the corner of his eyes as his father gets ready. He wishes too that things were different and his father could rest from his duties on the days his body could not take any more work.

  By the time his father leaves, Arnik is sufficiently caught up in his thoughts. He drags a chair to the window and thinks back to that fateful morning that had changed his entire view of life and what he had wanted out of it.