David rushed past the villagers, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek.

  “Oh! Who are you, o lady fair?” Calland’s smile was unsettlingly wide, and he approached Mom with confident steps.

  She stood with her basket, frozen in the middle of the road and avoiding his gaze.

  “Good afternoon, my lady,” Calland said with a slight dip of his head. “A lovely sight on a lovely day. Surely, you must have someone to run errands for you.”

  “I am no lady, Sir Calland, and I enjoy the walk. Thank you for your concern.” Mom forced a polite smile. She tried to walk past him, but he blocked the way. David started toward them, but she gave him a slight shake of her head and he stopped.

  “But surely,” Calland said, stepping infuriatingly close to her, “a beauty like yourself should be resting, not burdened with such trivial matters.” He looked her up and down.

  David wanted to run up and tackle him, even though he was barely half his height and he’d likely be beaten to a pulp.

  Mom turned her face away. “I’m quite capable, thank you, and my husband is waiting for me at home.” She took a step back, but Calland matched it.

  “You misunderstand me, my lady,” he said. “It’s not about capability. It’s about what you deserve. And surely, you deserve better than...” He gestured vaguely at the village around them. A few villagers scowled at him, but they scurried away the moment Calland turned to them.

  “I appreciate your concern, Sir Calland,” Mom said with tight lips, “but I have everything I need here.”

  “Do you?” Calland grasped her chin in his gauntleted hand and raised it. “A woman of your... caliber could have so much more. Even your features—“

  “That’s enough, Sir Calland.” Sir Viel approached, shaking his head. He grabbed Calland by the shoulder with enough force to make the younger knight flinch and pulled him away from David’s mom.

  “Commander,” Calland began. “I was merely—”

  “Return to your post,” Viel said, punctuating every word. He didn’t release Calland until the knight turned away. Calland muttered something under his breath, then swaggered toward the palisade, visibly annoyed.

  “I apologize for his behavior,” Viel said. “It won’t happen again.”

  Mom nodded. “Thank you, Commander.”

  Viel stared at her face a long moment and opened his mouth, but seemingly thought better of whatever he wanted to say. “Good day to you.” He inclined his head then followed Calland toward the palisade.

  Color slowly returned to Mom’s face, but the empty basket still trembled in her hand. Dad’s and Bren’s reactions to the knights suddenly made much more sense.

  David ran up to her. “Are you alright, Mom?” He tugged at her sleeve.

  “I—” She took a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle fools like him.”

  “We're lucky Sir Viel came.” David eyed her empty basket. “Did you need more herbs? I can get them for you.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “That might be better.” Mom ran a hand through her hair and handed him the basket. “I think I’ll stay home for the time being.”

  As he watched her turn away and walk back home, David wished there was something more he could do for her. Nothing came to mind. He ran to Sophie’s, got the herbs and ran back home, hoping to rejoin Mom as soon as he could. The whole way, he couldn’t help thinking about the way Sir Veil had stared at Mom's face.

  “I brought the herbs,” David said, entering the shed. Mom was at the workbench, grinding something with the pestle. The sharp scent of crushed herbs and smoke floated in the air.

  “Thanks.” She didn't turn to face him. It probably wasn’t the best moment to ask questions…

  “Mom, why did Sir Viel stare at you like that?”

  Mom stopped grinding, sighed deeply, and turned to look at David. She remained silent for a solid minute. “I—I used to be a noble. From one of the strongest houses in the kingdom. I don’t think I ever met Viel before, but he probably made the connection.”

  David searched her face. It was like finding the final puzzle piece. “Is that why you were able to learn at the academy and I can't?”

  “My nobility was part of it.” She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “But my status mostly got in the way while I was there.”

  “So you left?”

  Mom bit her lip and didn’t say anything for a while.

  David waited patiently at first, but he could tell the subject pained her. “I don't need an academy. I have you to teach me.” He squeezed her hand on his shoulder. “Can we do some more? I think I'm ready to try purification.”

  “I'd like that,” she whispered and wiped her eyes, and when she turned back to face him, she was smiling again.

  She grabbed a bowl from the workbench, filled it with a few voel leaves from a basket, then put it on the floor between them and gestured for him to sit. Though she moved stiffly and her hands were trembling just a little, she seemed a tiny bit happier, and that made David a lot happier.

  “Purification is a form of unstructured magic,” she explained. “It merges two intents, so you have to decide what parts of the material you want to keep and get rid of everything that isn’t… that, then bring what remains together.”

  “That sounds like a waste.” David eyed the frothy voel that could have become a healing ointment but was doomed to go up in smoke.

  “Not really, no.” She picked up the bowl. “Voel leaf is easy to find, and when you purify it—" Her brows creased and the leaf blackened as if it was burning, but without flame. “You can extract its base element—Earthen—In its pure form.”

  The last of the leaf vanished, leaving behind a few tiny grains. They melted together, forming something that looked like emerald-green glass. Aside from the color, it looked strikingly familiar. “So those dusts you used for your ritual, this is how you made them?”

  “Exactly.” Mom nodded. “Now you try. All you have to do is expel the mana like you did when you channeled it into the notebook, but do it into the leaf. Try to picture it crumbling and leaving behind the dust.” She scooped the earth dust out of the bowl and put a new voel leaf inside. “Just be careful, it’s taxing when you’re starting out. If you feel dizzy, let it go.”

  David had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. If he gave up at every sign of tiredness, he wouldn’t do a tenth of the practice he did. He touched the leaf, focused on the inert mana in his arm, and moved it toward his fingertips, focusing on the sensation of searing heat that came with it. When it started to feel like skin nails might catch fire, he willed the mana out.

  A tiny part of the leaf burnt up, barely the size of a fingernail. And he only felt slightly winded! As soon as David regained his breath, he pumped his fist. “I did it!”

  “On your first try…” Mom rustled his hair. “I'm proud of you. If only we had protective wards like they do at the academy, I could teach you structured magic too…”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “A combination of runes has to be filled with mana before they all take effect, unlike the gradual, unstructured process we did just now. Some spells use dozens of runes and require more mana than you have in your whole body at your age. if you fail halfway through and all that mana goes rampant…”

  David thought back to when she misstepped during her ritual and shivered. “Chaining runes together is dangerous. Got it.” Writing down a single rune seemed safe enough, though, but there was no need to bring mom’s attention to it.

  Mom returned to her work, while David kept assaulting the poor leaf. In the end, he purified half of it, which they both deemed a great success.

  Over the coming days, David kept up with Dad’s deliveries, Mom's teachings and his private practice. In that time, Mom never went farther from the house than the shed. Soon, days turned into weeks and eventually, David woke up to the familiar golden haze heralding the second Long Night since Lillie died.