As Syra and Firnix drew closer to the exit, what began as a pinhole-sized prick of light grew into a swath of forest-filtered sunlight, heralding an opening into the outside world; a mossy slope leading up to the forest proper. It had been a long walk. It could’ve been hours since escaping the Root Horror.

  When Syra took her first steps out of the underground cave and into the glade, she was surprised how pleasant it felt to see something so normal. Nestled in the Glimmermoss Forest, humming with life under the evening sun, the glade boasted dappled flower beds, moss-covered boulders, and a playful breeze carrying in fresh scents of resinous pine and floral notes.

  She finally got a look at Firnix under the sun, and almost missed the blindness of the cave. She knew she would look no less disgusting; she could feel the slime and gunk all over her. The burbling of a nearby river called to her like a sweet tune.

  “I’ll go wash up,” she told him, her voice coming out like a croak. She’d need a drink from the river, too.

  “I will do the same once you have returned,” he said stiffly.

  He sounded cold and distant, and she suspected it wasn’t just because she smelled like wet crottle and diseased death put together. He probably didn’t see her as much of an ally, after the treatment he’d received on coming to the island.

  Syra wasn’t used to having to be wary of people. Usually, she reserved that feeling for snarling creatures with sharp teeth. And an underground monster living amongst greatwood tree roots, it seemed. It felt wrong to have to add Firnix to that list, especially after he’d gone out of his way to lead her to safety with him. He had unleashed a mob of angry snakes on her and the others, but that had been in self-defense, to protect himself from what he thought was a threat. She didn’t often get to see such bold action, having lived in Elkah’s world of Umbras for so long.

  When she returned, he shakily bowed and trudged toward the river.

  Her stomach growled again, so she forced herself to keep her eyes open. If she didn’t, she knew she’d drop onto the grass and sleep the sunlight away. Finding food in the forest was a familiar activity to focus on; Syra had spent much of her years foraging and hunting in the plentiful forest. There wasn’t much else to do around Sylvanshade.

  An empty stomach, unfortunately, wasn’t as distracting as fighting a monster in a dark cave. Her thoughts wandered as she foraged, pulling her mood down to the depths. She thought about how she’d let Elkah down by losing control of her ardor; how Elkah had seemingly abandoned her and whether she’d be welcome back at Sylvanshade.

  By the time Firnix returned, she was eating on a log, berries and mushrooms laid out beside her for him. Because only eating some of the berries wouldn’t be enough to fill her — Elkah always joked how she had an unusually large stomach for how small she was — she’d picked out some mushrooms too, which she usually didn’t do. Da said she was deathly allergic to them, so she couldn’t recall ever having any and had no plans to; they were meant exclusively for Firnix, so there’d be more food to go around.

  Confusingly, Syra hadn’t found any rodents or other sizable animals, nor did she hear the song of birds overhead. That almost never was the case. Maybe the exhaustion was getting to her.

  Firnix had dark circles under his eyes and an uneven gait. At least he was much cleaner now. She could make out his short black hair, his hazel eyes, and his small leaf-shaped earrings the color of gold. Those must’ve been a struggle to clean. He appeared surprisingly stylish, though he carried himself with none of the confidence she’d expect from someone so good looking.

  “Found these for you,” she said, pointing to the food she’d laid out beside her.

  He staggered over. Instead of sitting on the log and eating, however, he eyed her array of Nightveil mushrooms suspiciously, then looked at her much like a deer sizing to dash off.

  “Why did you save me?” he asked.

  That question wasn’t what she’d expected first. He’d fallen in her hole by accident; she’d meant to run away by herself when she cast her lightning in Elkah’s house.

  But she had dragged him with her when he was unconscious.

  Syra settled for a shrug. “Jolts me to leave someone behind for dead, if I can do something about it. Why’d you save me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You could’ve ran off without me. I was blind as a mole down there.”

  “I only meant to repay the favor,” he said, inclining his head.

  Syra swallowed a handful of berries. “I’m shocked you managed to become a Soulcaster so soon. So what ability did you manifest, anyway? See-in-the-dark eyes, like a bat?”

  “Pardon, but bats can’t see in the dark—”

  “What? So? Forget that, what’s your ability?”

  “— They actually make use of something incredibly interesting called… never mind. So you’d rather hear about my Form?”

  “Yes! Wait, what’s a Form?”

  He hesitated. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “No, why?” she asked, but she realized why after a moment, and her voice dropped. “It’s a Soulcasting term everyone knows, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed. Forms are specific applications of Soulcasting abilities. Most experienced Soulcasters have a few Forms they focus on practicing very well.”

  “Was my discharge in Elkah’s room a Form?”

  “I don’t believe so. That’s called Formless Soulcasting. Your Branch ability is probably Elemental lightning, or something similar, so when you cast your ardor without specific intention, it comes out as uncontrollable discharge. Most Soulcasters are advised never to perform Formless Soulcasting, because, ah, they usually don’t survive it.”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Syra smiled. “That’s very good to know.” Hearing this knowledge was like finding an oasis after years wandering a desert. Even if she was defective, if there was some way she could get stronger with this better understanding of Soulcasting, Elkah might finally change her mind about considering her weak and useless.

  “So how did you do it? How did you learn a Form?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, shuffling his feet. “I took your advice to think of a desire. I cast my ardor to my eyes, and I was able to see ardor flowing through the roots. And through you. Like streams of gold-tinted water.”

  An exciting thought occurred to her. “What will you name it?”

  “Name what?”

  “The Form,” Syra said, unable to believe his lack of enthusiasm. “Naming a Form has to be the best part of learning one, right?”

  Firnix took a seat on the far side of the log. His legs must’ve been tired, but it also meant he was relaxing a bit around her. Maybe.

  “I must confess, I am not familiar with Form names,” he said. “Why don’t you name it?”

  Syra almost protested. Wasn’t this like him asking her to name his firstborn child?

  But she couldn’t pass up the opportunity. After all, she already had a name in mind, from the moment he’d described it.

  “The All-Seeing Penetrating Vision of Flowing Clarity.”

  He gave her a peculiar look. “Pardon, I must have failed to clean out the slime from my ears. What did you say?”

  She repeated the name, giving it a grander pronunciation this time.

  “I apologize, but I do not believe a Form is worth such celebration. Might it simply be called Ardor Eye?”

  She shrugged. “If that’s what you prefer.”

  She hadn’t been sure of his character after all that he’d done before the Root Tunnels, but from his timid demeanor, it was clear he’d only acted in self-defense. And not only was he free from the clutches of Elkah, the only such person besides Syra on the island, he was a Soulcaster with an interesting ability. An interesting Form.

  She really wanted one of her own, too.

  As she began thinking about the future, though, she ended up faced with reality again. Would life ever be the same again, in Sylvanshade? Or was she overthinking it?

  Firnix’s stomach growled. He still hadn’t eaten any of the food she’d laid out. He probably felt more lost and alone than she did.

  “What do you plan to do now?” she asked.

  His breath caught.

  “I won’t force you to come back to Sylvanshade, if you’re worried about that,” she said. “You’re like me now. You’ll never have a working Umbra. There’s no point keeping you where you don’t want to be anymore.”

  The tension in his shoulders didn’t seem to lessen, but he turned his head slowly, looking her in the eyes. “I told you and the others I came here to study wildlife. That, ah, isn’t entirely why I came here.”

  Syra was surprised it was even partially true.

  “Are you familiar with Auri?” he asked.

  “The Goddess?” she asked. She’d heard a few stories from Da about her. “Her son is Taizer, the planet’s life force. So she’s like the mother of the planet, right?”

  “She is also said to have created the Wall when she descended on Fraela a thousand years ago,” he said, nodding. “I lived in Fraela for a long time as a Warden. We have a library with stone tablets from the ancient time when Auri descended.”

  His gaze gained a quality she hadn’t seen before. All tension from him was suddenly gone; he seemed suddenly excited. Even desperate, but for what, Syra couldn’t tell.

  “One of the tablets said there was a lake on this island. A lake that is home to a being of great—”

  “A lake!”

  “Ah, yes. A lake. Why—”

  Syra got up, unable to keep her excitement in. “That’s it! The lake!” She took a few steps toward Firnix, who got up from the log and backpedaled. But Syra wasn’t focused on that. “Tell me, what do you know about the lake?”

  “The tablet I read said it’s wide as any other, yet shallow as a soup bowl,” Firnix said, sneaking glances behind him. “And it’s covered in mist so thick the water’s surface is invisible to the naked eye.”

  “Mistbound Lake,” Syra said. “You’re looking for Mistbound Lake.”

  “Mistbound Lake? You mean you know of it? Is that a place on this island?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve heard Elkah say it’s the source of her control over Umbras. It’s someplace on the other side of the island, apparently, but it can’t be found on a map. That’s all I know.”

  Firnix’s eyes brightened considerably. “It’s really— I actually have a chance to return!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m looking for proof that the lake exists, so I can bring that back to the Wardens. I was told not to return until I could. The stone tablet also said it couldn’t be found on a map, so I was worried it was just a fairytale!”

  The source of Elkah’s power to create and control Umbras. Mistbound Lake.

  “Do you think the lake, or whatever is in it, has the power to remove an Umbra?” she asked, lost in thought.

  “I’m hoping it has the power to do much more than that.”

  She nodded. She remembered Da’s tears, and her heart clenched.

  She knew her exception to Umbras was selfish — or at least, that’s what she’d thought for so long.

  She wasn’t sure anymore.

  But she was sure there was nothing more she hated than those tears she’d seen.

  If she had a chance to free Da, she’d take it.

  Besides. She’d been waiting for a chance to finally spread her wings, out from under Elkah’s shadow. Before, she’d be lucky to find a few minutes to practice Soulcasting, under threat of a disciplining from one of the Redcloaks. Now, she could practice all she wanted, and get strong, and soon Elkah would have no choice but to accept Syra as a Redcloak.

  Would they be looking for her right now? Or did they think she died?

  She hoped Da wouldn’t take her absence too hard.

  I’ll come back for you, she thought.

  And she set her resolve.

  “We’re going together,” she said.

  “Pardon?”

  “We’re going to find Mistbound Lake together. We’re the only ones capable of breaking the law on the whole island. This is something only we can do!”

  He looked at her like she’d said something crazy. “Why do you want to find the lake?”

  “Power?” she shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t think I’ll be useless. In a fight, my lightning might hurt myself more than my opponent, but hey! I’ll be perfect for everything else. I know how to survive in this forest.” She pointed to where the river they’d used to clean off was. “That’s River Sunda. If we follow it, we can find a small village to get some sleep at. I haven’t been there before, but I’ve heard some people from Sylvanshade talk about it.”

  He looked overwhelmed. “You won’t try to kill me?”

  “Why would I? We saved each other’s lives.”

  “And you trust me not to attack you?”

  “Sure. You haven’t given me a real reason to distrust you, yet.”

  “In my experience, people need to earn trust in the first place.”

  She frowned. “That’s a sad way of looking at things.”

  He was silent. He stole a glance at the mushrooms she’d laid out on the logs. He’d been doing that several times.

  “Eat up, then,” she said, gesturing to the food she’d laid out. “You’ll need energy for the walk. The village might be half a day away.”

  He still looked at the food suspiciously.

  Syra’s heart sank. “You don’t trust me enough to not poison you?”

  He gasped, as if realizing something. “I thought it was intentional, but did you not know all along? These mushrooms are Banecaps.”

  Banecaps? She peered closer at the mushrooms. Her eyes bugged. Banecaps were almost identical to Nightveils, only they caused long-lasting runs.

  “Strike me, I never should’ve picked out mushrooms!”