In the weeks that followed, a comfortable rhythm settled in. Mornings meant a hearty breakfast, lately often without Lord Ainsworth's charming presence, which was a definite plus. During these meals, Lady Ainsworth revealed herself more and more to be a genuinely kind person—at least on the surface.

  She asked every day how we were doing, how my training was progressing. And even though she always wore expensive, elaborate dresses, she never seemed too proud to pick Pip up or let her curl up on her lap during the meal, stroking her fur gently.

  She chatted easily with me, asking about my—admittedly limited—experiences and thoughts. Often, she subtly intervened whenever Lord Ainsworth was present and found some new reason to try and humiliate or threaten me. A quiet word here, a distracting question there—she often defused his temper before it fully exploded in my direction.

  But somehow… it all had a bitter aftertaste.

  Who knew if her kindness stemmed from genuine goodness or simple pragmatism? I was, after all, potentially valuable property now.

  My doubts solidified one evening when Theo, the kitchen boy, served dinner. Lord Ainsworth decided his cut of meat wasn't cooked rare enough for his liking. It clearly wasn't Theo's fault—he just carried the plates—but someone had to bear the brunt of the Lord's foul mood. The poor kid was showered with curses, then pelted with food from the Lord’s own plate. Lord Ainsworth even backhanded him across the face hard enough to make him stumble, tears welling in his eyes.

  And Lady Ainsworth? She sat there, silent, her expression placid, not saying a single word in Theo's defense.

  Nothing.

  That silence chilled me more than that bastard's yelling. So yes, doubts lingered about her true nature… but, I reasoned, as long as I proved my worth, kept progressing, I probably didn't need to worry about ending up like Theo.

  Probably.

  Which meant focusing back on training with Corbin. I was making good progress with Water and Fire magic. I could now form decent-sized spheres of either element and actually throw them at targets across the training ground. To be honest, though, only the fireballs seemed particularly useful, since they actually set the straw targets alight with a satisfying whoosh. The water balls just made them… damp. Plus, the spheres only flew as fast as my own physical throwing strength allowed, which felt slow and inefficient. Not exactly a powerful attack.

  Still, I understood the basics now: summon, shape, project. I was already thinking about creating my first real spells, combining the elements or manipulating them in more complex ways. But the water spell I had in mind… that would require another skill I hadn't grasped yet: Air Magic.

  I held up my hand again, taking a break from water practice, and tried to summon a blast of air. Corbin had mentioned Air Magic was trickier because, well, you couldn't see it. No immediate visual feedback like water forming or fire igniting. My only clue was aiming at the sand, hoping to see something happen.

  The familiar mana-tingle pulsed in my palm, warmer this time, less fluid than water. I focused on pushing it out—whoosh.

  The effect was… underwhelming. A faint swirl of dust kicked up a few meters away. Maybe.

  I suddenly burst out laughing. Was that my spell, or did the wind just happen to gust at that exact moment? I was getting paranoid.

  Ah, screw it. Fine. If subtle wasn't working…

  I gathered as much mana in my palm as I could hold, pouring energy into it until my hand felt like it was vibrating intensely, almost painfully full, like… like trying desperately not to have diarrhea, weirdly enough. Then, I just let it go.

  The mana erupted from my hand. The sand in front of me didn't just swirl; it exploded upwards, erupting in a massive, choking cloud of dust that instantly enveloped the area around the training grounds.

  Ehm… yay? Did that count?

  Coughing erupted from the cloud—the few remaining trainees, the guards, and Corbin.

  “SORRY!” I yelled, coughing myself as the grit filled my nose and mouth. But amidst the coughing, an idea sparked!

  I raised my hand again, ignoring the annoyed shouts from the dust cloud. This time, instead of a sudden blast, I focused on creating a steady stream of air, pushing outwards from my palm. Slowly, feeling the controlled flow of mana, a tunnel began to form in the dense brown cloud, revealing a patch of blue sky above.

  Yeah, man! It worked!

  I increased the output slightly, widening the tunnel, pushing the dust back more rapidly. Sweeping my hand back and forth like a human leaf blower, I cleared the air around the coughing guards, then finally revealed Corbin, who was swatting dust from his robes and glaring daggers at me. The dust cloud slowly dispersed, settling back onto the sand, leaving everyone looking rather unhappy and gritty.

  I bowed apologetically, though I couldn’t quite suppress a small smirk. As I raised my head, that familiar flash of information bloomed in my mind.

  < Skill learned: Air Magic (Inferior) >

  Oh yes! Finally! Now nothing stood in the way of creating my first real, unique spells! A wide, idiotic grin spread across my face.

  The guards’ glares only darkened, however, and Corbin barked, dust still in his voice, “Are you finding our suffering amusing, boy?!”

  Oh. Right. My grin vanished instantly. I shook my head quickly and bowed again, murmuring another apology.

  After the dust finally settled completely, the guards grumbled and went back to their patrols, pointedly ignoring me. Corbin, however, sat back down and pulled out… a small notebook and pencil? Huh. That was new. I’d only ever seen him reading. He started scribbling something down, occasionally glancing at me with that unreadable expression.

  Shrugging it off, I moved to a relatively clear corner of the training ground to practice my newfound Air Magic without annoying anyone else. I tried doing similar exercises as with the water—forming spheres, moving them around. But it was unnecessarily difficult trying to judge something I couldn’t see. How did I know if the sphere was stable? Or moving where I wanted?

  But the dust cloud gave me another idea. I scooped up a handful of fine sand. Okay, try this.

  I focused, forming a sphere of air in my hand, then carefully let the sand trickle into it. Yes! The swirling sand grains perfectly outlined the rotating ball of air. Now I could see it!

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  This was much better. I practiced making the sand-filled air sphere bigger, then shrinking it down. I made it rotate faster, feeling a slight suction pull at my hand as a mini-vortex formed inside. And, most importantly… I focused, built pressure, and then shot the sand particles out of the sphere in a focused blast, like a miniature sandblaster. They peppered a nearby practice dummy, confirming my theory.

  Nice. Air could be used offensively too, not just for blowing dust around.

  Lost in thought, I practiced and practiced, manipulating the sandy air sphere, trying different things, until a soft nudge against my leg startled me. Pip?

  “Pip! Where have you been?” I exclaimed, looking down at her. Then I blinked. “Whoa, look at you!”

  She was practically coated in dust, with little leaves, bits of cobweb, and general grime stuck in her fur. She must have been exploring somewhere thoroughly disreputable.

  I crouched down. “Hold still.”

  With a raised hand, I summoned a gentle stream of air, aiming it carefully at her back. Pip cautiously closed her eyes as a few loose leaves and some surface dust blew off. But it didn’t do much for the ingrained dirt or cobwebs.

  Okay, plan B. I increased the output slightly… maybe a bit too much.

  With a sudden whoosh, leaves, cobwebs, dust—and very nearly Pip herself—went flying. She let out an indignant meow and scrambled away, shaking herself vigorously.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “See? All clean now!”

  Pip gave me a look that clearly conveyed her displeasure, then promptly ignored me, found a patch of sunlight, and started rolling around in the remaining dust, grooming herself meticulously.

  “Could’ve saved myself the effort…” I muttered, shaking my head. Cats.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing Air Magic and occasionally tossing a small, sand-filled air ball for Pip to chase, which she seemed to enjoy more than being blown clean, until the training ground gradually emptied as the sun dipped below the horizon.

  Corbin eventually packed up his book and notes, gave me a nod that was accompanied by a pointed, theatrical cough—the bastard, definitely getting a last jab in about the dust—and left.

  But one thing felt strange… normally, Conrad would have arrived by now, maybe even earlier, to fetch me for dinner or evening duties. Usually, I was one of the first to leave the training ground. Tonight, I was the last one here besides the patrolling guards.

  Did I miss something? Is dinner cancelled? Well, it was still technically light out. I decided to wait a bit longer, practicing dissipating my air sphere silently.

  Yeah, that was a mistake.

  I waited what felt like an eternity. Full dark settled, the sky turning inky black, pierced only by stars. My stomach was actively complaining now.

  Okay, screw this. I sighed heavily and was just about to leave the training ground myself when two guards approached me, their armored footsteps crunching softly on the sand.

  “Grim. Come with us,” one of them said gruffly, his voice muffled by his helmet. No explanation.

  Okay?

  “Uh, sure. Come on, Pip,” I said, scooping her up as she trotted over. I followed the guard who had spoken, while the other fell into step behind me. Felt less like an escort, more like being marched somewhere. Or protected? Against what? I guessed I’d find out soon enough.

  We left the training ground, but instead of heading towards the main halls or my room, they led me into the manor through a side entrance and then down corridors I hadn’t seen before, finally stopping outside… the kitchen?

  I blinked in surprise, also curious. I’d never been inside, but the food that came out was always amazing.

  The kitchen was large, with rough brick walls, a massive hearth big enough to roast a whole cow, a sturdy steel oven, lots of dark wooden counters and cupboards, and rows of tools hanging from hooks—knives, ladles, meat forks, whisks, pots, pans.

  The guards ignored all of it, walking purposefully to a corner of the room where a heavy wooden hatch was set into the stone floor, secured with a thick padlock. One guard produced a key, unlocked the padlock, and lifted the heavy cellar hatch, revealing dark stairs leading down. He took a hooded lantern hanging on a hook next to the hatch, struck a flint and steel, and lit the wick.

  The guard holding the lantern started down the dark cellar stairs. We followed him, Pip tucked securely in my arms. Downstairs, the lantern revealed a gigantic, stone-walled cellar space filled with crates, sacks, barrels, and shelves stacked high with goods. It stretched further than the lantern light reached.

  Suddenly, the guard with the lantern stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Wait here a moment,” he said, then turned and started back up the stairs, taking the light with him.

  “Hey!” I called after him. “Could you maybe leave the lantern?!” With every step he took, the darkness below surged back in, leaving only the faint light from the kitchen doorway spilling down the first few steps.

  The guard paused at the top, silhouetted against the kitchen light. He turned his head back towards me.

  “Lord Ainsworth bids me to inform you,” his voice echoed slightly in the stairwell, “that due to you embarrassing him so grievously today, you are being relocated. To the cellar.”

  And with that, he slammed the heavy wooden hatch shut. The sound boomed in the enclosed space. I heard the heavy padlock click firmly into place above me.

  What?! Plunged into near-total darkness, my mind reeled. I embarrassed Lord Ainsworth? How? I haven’t even seen the stupid peacock since breakfast!

  Sighing in the cold, musty air, I carefully lowered Pip to the floor, then raised my hand, summoning fire. A small flame flickered to life in my palm, casting dancing orange shadows.

  Right away, I noticed a pile of bedding, a candle, and a corked bottle, likely filled with water, sitting on crates close by. How thoughtful. At least I don't have to sleep on the cold stone floor.

  I focused the fire into a tiny flame at the tip of my index finger and lit the candle wick. Now I had both hands free and a slightly more stable, if dimmer, light source. I spread the bedding out on the floor away from the dampest spots—it was a thick sleeping pad, a rough woolen blanket, and a lumpy pillow.

  Well, this or try breaking down a locked cellar door and definitely get into even more trouble.

  Okay, it was dark, smelled faintly of damp earth and rotting vegetables, and it was definitely cold down here. Not exactly inviting. But… it was nothing compared to Ithrak's ruined temple, filled with actual monsters. I survived that… barely, but still. I could survive this.

  Sighing again, I placed the candle carefully on a crate beside my makeshift bed, crawled under the blanket, and pulled it up tight. Pip immediately burrowed under with me, poking just her head out near my shoulder. I reached out, scratching her under the chin.

  Time to try and get through this latest farce. I aimed my finger at the candle wick and snuffed it out with a precise puff of air magic.

  Was using magic necessary when I could have just blown it out? Nope. Would I take any excuse to practice because using magic was actually starting to be fun? Absolutely. Yawning, I closed my eyes, stroking Pip’s soft fur. Maybe things would look different in the morning.

  It felt like I lay there for ages in the oppressive silence of the cellar, sleep refusing to come. The cold seeped up from the stone floor, and every distant creak from the manor above sounded sinister.

  At some point, I thought I heard a faint whimpering sound.

  Just my imagination? Rats? I tried to ignore it.

  But then it came again, slightly louder this time, a definite sob or whimper. Even Pip reacted, lifting her head with a low growl rumbling in her chest before wriggling out from under the blanket, alert.

  Okay, that’s not good. My heart started pounding.

  I sat up quickly, instantly summoning fire back into my palm, willing it brighter this time so I could see more than a few feet. The orange light pushed back the shadows, revealing stacks of barrels and crates looming around me. And there it was again… a weak, muffled whimpering sound.

  It made my skin crawl. In Ithrak’s temple, at least I knew I was dealing with skeletons. What the hell is down here? Please don’t let it be a banshee or something…

  Holding the flame high, I got slowly to my feet. Pip stayed close to my legs, her fur slightly bristled. I moved cautiously through the cellar aisles, listening intently.

  The whimpering came again, seeming to echo slightly. I moved towards the sound, my footsteps silent on the cold stone. Louder now. Definitely coming from behind that next tall stack of crates. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, glanced down at Pip who looked tense but ready, took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and peered cautiously around the corner, holding my fire-light out.

  And saw… what the hell…?

  I stepped fully around the corner. More crates. Some old, ripped, mouldy-looking bedding piled in a corner. Rats scurried away from my light. A pair of worn leather shoes peeked out from behind the crates. The whimpering sound was definitely coming from right here, muffled and heartbroken.

  I took a few more steps, angling my light to see behind the crates properly.

  And there he was.

  Curled up in a tight ball on the filthy bedding, crying softly into his knees. A boy with curly blond hair…

  Theo.