Kael walked in silence beside Virelle, his boots crunching the withered leaves beneath them as the chilly breeze that lingered from her spell brushed against his skin. His mind replayed the image over and over—the way the blinding light erupted from her scroll, the roar of the golem choked off mid-bellow, and how the sheets of ice had coiled around the creature like serpents of frost before crashing it down like glass.
He couldn't hold it in any longer.
"What… what kind of spell was that?" he finally asked, his voice low but laced with wonder.
Virelle didn't pause as she replied, "Ice Spread. A Tier 4 elemental rune spell. Designed to cripple and obliterate targets in one instant sweep." She glanced sideways at him. "It has no blocking property, no delay time. If it lands, it lands."
Kael stopped walking for a heartbeat, stunned. Tier 4?
That was above Raleigh. Above anything he'd seen in this backwater village. Tier 4 magic wasn't just powerful—it was territorial. The kind of spell that could lay waste to a room full of mages if they weren't careful. The idea that Virelle—his soft-voiced, meek-eyed stepmother—had cast it so effortlessly was jarring.
And she'd used it… for him.
For Kael—the outcast. The boy with a cursed bloodline. The one everyone spat at when they passed. She had risked the safety of the entire village, summoned a golem of death, and then revealed a forbidden level of power, all to shift suspicion away from him.
"You're insane," Kael muttered, but there was no venom in his tone. Only awe. And something else… something strange and unfamiliar. Warmth.
He looked at her again—really looked. The plump lines of her face, her soft brown eyes that always looked like they were thinking too far ahead. The woman he'd pushed away, shouted at, cursed behind her back… was also the one who had just saved his life without hesitation.
Virelle, oblivious to his inner tide of shifting emotions, cast a sharp look around the forest and whispered, "We shouldn't stay out here any longer. Come."
Kael followed automatically, mind still tangled. As they moved through the underbrush, heading toward the path back to their house, Kael suddenly remembered something.
"Wait—Tilly. And the others. Where are they?"
Virelle gave a small nod, not even turning her head. "I placed them just at the north clearing near the hunter's post. Someone should find them soon. Their wounds are bad… but survivable."
Kael gave a dry exhale. "You really thought it all through, didn't you?"
Silence followed. Virelle didn't answer, but Kael caught a fleeting glance from her, subtle and cautious. Her mind was elsewhere. On him.
She was remembering the moment earlier that day—his shouting, his eyes full of betrayal and fury, his words echoing like knives:
"You lied to me. My whole life. You're not my mother. Just someone who pitied the cursed brat."
Now, as they walked side by side under the dimming sky, she saw none of that anger left in him. No scowl, no suspicion.
Instead… there was a lightness in his eyes. An energy. Excitement. Resolve.
Kael, for the first time in years, felt something new growing inside him.
A hunger.
Power like hers existed. And if she could wield it in secret all this time… why not him?
---
As they approached the humble wood-and-thatch house at the edge of the village, Virelle's thoughts lingered on the look Kael had worn moments ago—sharp eyes lit with inner fire, mouth pressed in a line of quiet conviction.
She'd seen that look before. Too many times.
On his mother's face the night she turned against the Circle of Mages.
On his father's the morning he fought against the invasion of his kingdom, and was buried under it's magnificent stones.
And now… Kael. She swallowed uneasily. Please… don't follow their path.
A sharp motion up ahead snapped her back to reality. Jorran was pacing in front of the house like a wolf on edge, his thick arms crossed, brows drawn tight. The moment he caught sight of them, his face twisted into a scowl and he stormed over.
"Where the hell have you two been!?" he barked, his voice coarse and echoing in the empty air.
Virelle barely opened her mouth before he launched into a storm of curses. "The evacuation horn sounded nearly an hour ago! The golem—you've heard, haven't you? It nearly leveled the east ridge! And you—both of you—vanish like idiots! Do you think this is some game!?"
Despite the fury in his words, his eyes betrayed him—wide, glossy with tension. Worried.
Kael tilted his head, studying the man like an animal he hadn't seen in a while. His memories of Jorran were painted in years of coldness. A once-charming farmer who became distant after marrying Virelle. Then cold. Then cruel. He used to avoid looking Kael in the eyes. Now he was staring straight at him—veins taut in his neck, but not with hatred.
With fear.
Has it really been that long since he looked at me like this?
Before Kael could speak, Virelle stepped forward, putting a hand gently on Jorran's chest. "We were by the river," she said quickly, voice calm and steady. "When the horn blew… we hid in the shrubs near the western bank. We waited until the rumbling stopped before heading home."
Jorran's glare lingered a moment longer, but he let out a low grunt, rubbing the back of his neck. "Stupid. You should've headed for the tunnels." But the venom was gone from his tone now. Just weariness.
Kael didn't say anything, but his eyes narrowed slightly. There was a moment—barely a flicker—where Jorran looked him in the eye. And Kael saw it.
Softness.
Fleeting. Almost embarrassed. But real.
Jorran turned his back before either of them could say more. "Stay inside," he grumbled. "I'm checking with the watch to make sure the threat's done."
Virelle nodded. "Be careful, Jorran."
He didn't reply, but his pace slowed as he approached the crossbow resting against the porch wall. He picked it up, slung it over his shoulder, then cast a final glance back at them.
Kael thought he saw it again.
The faint flicker of something buried deep—concern.
Then Jorran was gone, footsteps crunching along the path toward the village square.
Kael stood silent as Virelle exhaled quietly beside him.
But Kael's mind was elsewhere. That look he'd worn earlier hadn't left him. It was still there—growing. Solidifying.
Because if Tier 4 magic existed…
If Virelle could wield it…
Then there was more to this world than he'd been told.
More than isolation. More than hiding. More than enduring.
Power was real. And it could be claimed.