There was hardly a soul who didn't fear the Royal Sorceress. Her prestige in the art of magic and vast knowledge of the world overwhelmed the land of Ingary so well that no one, not even the Royal Family, was confident enough to stand up against her.

Madame Suliman knew this very well. She made sure no one would question her or become more powerful. For if just one soul discovered her weaknesses, if just one sly person figured out the secrets she locked deep inside herself, then everyone would see behind the mask she built around herself.

"How was that, Mother?"

Madame Suliman pulled her gaze away from the pouring rain trickling down the clean glass windows of her sanctuary. This was her comfort; her realm of control.

She nodded toward her son. "Yes, Owen. Your powers are definitely near mastery."

Owen crossed his arms. "Shall I perform again, hoping you'll watch me this time?"

Suliman, having been outed by her son for neglecting him again, sighed. "I have a lot on my mind. I would prefer that we train at a later date."

Owen scoffed. "Of course. Always later, and never now." Even in his adult years, he still held tantrums like a child.

He turned to walk out until he felt a pressing urge to do the exact opposite. It was a feeling he'd always had, yet never felt confident to share aloud - not even to his own mother. She never fought for him, never praised him in front of her other amateur students. He was far more intellectual in the art of magic than most of them were combined.

He had given her everything, and now he wanted just one ounce of truth from her.

Owen held his stance. "Why is this Howl Pendragon more important than me?"

He couldn't see her, yet he knew his mother was appalled by the accusation. "Owen, that is completely out of place and out of context. You are my son."

"Only by chance." Owen scolded. He turned with a burning rage toward Suliman. "Had Howl been fortunate enough to be born as your son, you would gladly show him off to everyone in Kingsbury, to the entire kingdom!"

"That is enough." Suliman stood from her chair and walked rigidly toward Owen. "A grown man acting like a child - I did not raise you to be envious. You have had everything you ever needed or wanted for twenty-two years all because of me, because of the status I have held for half a century! I will not be spoken to in such a vile tone from my own son."

"I won't stand to be second best anymore." Owen said, his eyes returning to the glare of his mother's. "Why do you favor him over me? Why do you favor all of your students over me?"

Suliman refused to speak. Her breath was heavy and fast-paced as she exhaled through the slits between her teeth. Owen would not release his glare from hers, hoping for some form of honesty from his mother. She was beyond wisdom; she was beyond talent; but as a mother, she failed him day after day.

And in that glance, in that brief moment she witnessed her son - and her mask dropped.

Owen stared wide-eyed. He didn't know how he couldn't see it before; or maybe he chose not to see it, willingly shielding such truth from his already fragile heart. As much as she played him as this amazing magician and gave him so many opportunities to learn from the masters, she would always see him as a disgrace to their family.

Owen clenched his fists. "Is this because of who I am? Is this because of my source?"

Suliman turned her back and walked to her chair. "Howl Pendragon is the magician I have been looking for since before you were born. I will not let this opportunity go to waste."

"Fine." Owen said. "Then I guess you won't have to worry about your humiliating son anymore."

Suliman turned around, but before she could refute, he had disappeared from her sight. She sat calmly in her chair and called for one of her servants. "Please send in Howl Pendragon. It is time for our private lesson." 

Her mind was blank, like a black hole swirling inside the depths of her soul. It pulled her in deeper and deeper until she had lost her way around completely. Everything ceased to exist and nothing made sense anymore. Suliman had ways of doing that to a person, especially when they were trapped in a jail cell.

"Gwenda." Her eyes shot open. Though the void had disappeared, she still stared at a vast emptiness. Concrete walls held them captive, barred openings restricted the amount of sunlight that reached inside, and defeat floated around the entire prison to each victim.

Lona knelt next to the stone prison bed, waiting for Gwenda to rise. "I think you should speak with George again."

"What for?" Gwenda said, her voice still in slumber. "To tell me off again and insult magicians even more? No thanks."

"I think you can change his mind."

Gwenda breathed a laugh. "He seems pretty set on himself. Reminds me of myself actually."

Lona reached her hand and held Gwenda's. Her voice pleaded. "Please. You're better at making a convincing argument than I am. You're the only person I know who can change their minds."

Gwenda closed her eyes once more. Lying around waiting for someone to come was futile. It was easier to pretend that everyone would be fine until their eventual rescue and then they would see the good in magic, but that was just a fantasy. Gwenda was tired of arguing; she was tired of defending people against other people who wouldn't listen to her.

Then again, she wasn't the type of person to wait for action - she made action happen.

With the energy she regained from her brief rest, Gwenda sat up on the bed and hung her legs off the side, her newly adjusted braid falling firmly down the center of her back. She paused until the rush in her head passed and she could clearly see the room. Most of the prisoners were resting on the uncomfortable hanging beds or sitting on the floor with the same blank expressions. Prison was meant for people who committed actual crimes, and yet Suliman used them to contain innocent bystanders for her own control.

Not surprising, Gwenda thought. She continually found qualities of Suliman that only enraged her even more.

Lona took her seat as Gwenda stood and walked to the locked iron door. In the cell next to her, Beth and Mari sat across from each other, their dim gazes staring at the tiny bits of rubble on the floor. She had hoped that their friendship would be enough to encourage them, yet they were as willing to help her as anyone else in the room.

Gwenda held the icy bars and leaned her head as close to them as possible. George tossed a pebble in the air and grumbled under his breath when he didn't catch it. She stood there for a while until he saw her staring. He rolled his eyes and threw the pebble in the air again. "What do you want now, little lady?"

"I want you to reconsider your position." Gwenda said. She looked around the room. "All of you. These are your friends and family in danger and-"

"They had their chance." George said, her voice stern. "I told my son, he could stay home and train with his aunt or he could go to Suliman's school and never come home. He made his choice years ago and I stand by my word."

Gwenda dropped her gaze. "I remember when I was little, I saw the lines of young magicians waiting to witness the magnificent and prestigious Madame Suliman, all in the hopes of entering her school. Everyone loved her for years. Why didn't you trust her then?"

George scoffed. "That's where you're wrong, girl. The people didn't love her; they were afraid of her. She used fear to gain power - that was clearer than anything. I didn't want my son to be associated with those kinds, but he was blinded by becoming a renowned wizard."

An older woman in the cell next to him joined the conversation. "You talk as if she was always that way."

"Once she became Royal Sorceress, she did. I'm telling you, Somer, that kind of power does not belong to one person. She has taken advantage of magic."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, George." Somer reached her hand into his cell, though George was reluctant to take it. "I just miss Nolan."

George tightened his grip around the pebble and his hands shook from the pressure. He threw it against the bars, the clang echoing throughout the room. He turned to Somer with red eyes. "I miss him, too. But that doesn't erase the terrible things he's done by leaving and joining her army."

Gwenda heard a soft cough from behind her, close behind. Lona crept up next to her, though her intent was toward George and Somer. "This ring was given to me by a wizard." She held her hand out for them to see the square diamond bound inside a silver band. "His name is Kenta, and he studied under Suliman and joined her army as well. I'm not saying he made the right decisions, but he made the decisions he thought would keep me safe. Everything he has ever done was out of love, and I believe your son would see his wrongdoings if you forgave him."

George licked his cracked lips. "My son never wanted to use magic for the right reasons. Your lad may have done so out of love, but believe me when I say Nolan joined Suliman out of spite against us."

Lona turned away and sat against the bars, biting her lip to hold the tears in place. She whispered a list - which Gwenda remembered from when their mother left - of things that could never change and things that made her happy. She whispered things like chocolate covered strawberries and great-aunt Felicia's cooking and their old dog begging for treats. There were a few new things added to the list, things like how much she loved Kenta and finally being with her sister again.

Gwenda inhaled a heavy breath. "What about the rest of you? You must love these magicians if you were important enough to be taken away from them."

Some of the prisoners looked up, but others hardly paid any mind to her. Silence. A room filled with innocent prisoners unwilling to fight. It boiled her anger further and further the longer they avoided her gaze and zipped their mouths shut.

Gwenda grasped the bars tighter. "I have friends, too, that are in danger because they are trying to put an end to Suliman's reign of terror. They're humans and magicians alike and are giving their lives to save you and your families. Wizards like Howl Pendragon, the one who used to walk around in his castle and supposedly ate the hearts of women. The Witch of the Wastes, who used to work for Suliman is now trying to stop her along with all my friends - Sophie, Markl, Kenta, Martha, Calcifer-"

"Gwenda, I think you've made your point now." Lona said softly.

"No!" Gwenda shouted to her. "Obviously I haven't if they still don't want to help. I've been afraid of magicians since mom left with that manipulative jerk and destroyed our family. I've been angry at magic because of what it did to us, but now I know that just one wizard cannot define them all. I have seen so much good in my friends that I doubted everything I used to believe. I've seen the Witch of the Wastes turn from her horrible ways to living the rest of her life doing good for others. If that change is possible, I can't wait to see what the future holds."

Gwenda dropped to the floor next to her sister and held her hand tightly. Gwenda didn't care if they decided to do something or just sat in their cells. She was more concerned with finding her friends, hoping they were still alive. Her last contact was with Calcifer, and their brief window of opportunity had slipped away.

Calcifer. Gwenda tried not to think about him, but he was the only one on her mind after his attempted rescue. His words pierced her heart as she repeated them over and over in her mind. He loved her; he really loved her. All the little moments they had together, those late night conversations, his attitude whenever she was around him, even the way he spoke to her - she had blocked love from her world for so long she had forgotten the signs.

She had forgotten how to feel love.

She'd been hurt so many times, it pained her to think about experiencing that again. For years, Gwenda built up a guarded wall around herself, restricting new friends from knowing her and restricting herself from freely opening up again. Before she knew it, Calcifer had learned how to break that wall.

And without question, she let him.

From the corner of her eye, Gwenda noticed Betha and Mari staring at her. As she turned, they held soft, hopeful smiles. Maybe a few more would gain hope as well.

The door to the prison opened and four guards entered the room. The prisoners jostled around and cowered. George was right about one thing: Suliman's fear tactics.

"Gwendolyn and Lona Maguire." One of the guards said.

Gwenda turned to them, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. "Yes, what do you want?"

The guard motioned with his hand toward her and two guards unlocked their cell. As quickly as they opened the door, they handcuffed the sisters and dragged them out of the cell. Neither Gwenda nor Lona resisted.

"What's this for?" Gwenda asked. "You can at least say where you're taking us."

The main guard led them to the exit. "The Royal Family has requested your presence immediately."d them to the exit. "The Royal Family has requested your presence immediately."

A slow and agonizing torture was worse than any curse he had encountered. The weight upon his lifeless being had deteriorated every bit of strength, courage, and hope. He feared the worst at this point.

"Markl, help me clear the smaller pieces." From a faded perspective, Kenta watched as Calcifer instructed Markl on how to ease the load atop him. He hoped that doing something was better than waiting for the end to come.

Markl removed the smaller pieces of wood first and added them to Calcifer's fire. He went through wood faster than most fires, but at least he had more to support. He kept their environment free of the chilling weather and hid them well from Suliman's army and whatever beasts were wandering in the Wastes. His powers were a true gift.

Kenta coughed out dust and soot. His voice sounded like he had smoked for decades. "I don't think this is helping."

"It will." Markl said, his mind set on this one task. He spoke as his arms moved nearby pieces from Kenta to Calcifer. "We'll get you out of there, even if I can't use magic."

Kenta tried raising his hand, but he could barely feel it. His hands lay downward as if he were strapped by handcuffs. A trapped, helpless, misfortunate victim - all the antagonism he remembered from his forced entrance into Suliman's army. However, he didn't have Lona or Howl to get him out of trouble this time.

"Maybe if I move my fire over you, I can burn the wood. Then, all that would be left is hot metal." Calcifer said as Markl dropped more scraps of wood over him. Kenta fixed his exhausted eyes to Calcifer, the fire demon growing red with embarrassment. "I guess that would hurt more than help, huh?"

Kenta nodded as best he could. "Probably, yes."

As Markl removed a large piece, a low crashing pushed toward Kenta, dropping the rubble that lay above him further down to replace what Markl took. Markl frowned and threw the wood onto Calcifer, taking the fire demon by surprise.

The boy stomped away. "Argh! Why is this so difficult? Why can't I just remember how to use magic?"

Kenta shook his head. "Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. It's like you're learning the basics over again."

"I hate the basics!" Markl threw fists by his side and bowed his head. "I hate having to do everything over again. I've trained with Master Howl for years and half the time I was teaching myself. Why can't I just be a master already? Why can't I just be a wizard?"

Calcifer turned to Kenta, who merely stared at the boy with regretful eyes. He remembered something, even if it was simply the pain he felt as a novice. After all the years of hard work and dedication, he was back to the beginning. They both were at a loss for words.

Markl returned to feeding Calcifer with the wood, using what little muscle strength he had to remove the heavier pieces away. Kenta appeared relieved at times, but the entire load pressing down on him would crush him before Markl even made a dent.

Nevertheless, the emergence of sunrise was a glimmer of hope for Kenta. He closed his eyes and embraced the warmth, enjoying this simple gift.

Markl threw a burly plank of wood - one of the broken stairs from the castle - over Calcifer to the other side of rubble. Calcifer glanced between the boy and where the plank landed, much farther than a boy his age was capable of flinging. Markl wiped his forehead and huffed. The fire demon narrowed his eyes, watching as Markl threw piece by piece across the space, all falling near the first plank.

Kenta shot his eyes open when he felt the pressure against his chest relieved. He took in deep breaths, something he was restricted from for a long while. Markl paid no mind to Kenta's relief and continued his haul. The light from the sun poured out like a golden waterfall against Markl's back like an energy source.

Or rather, a magical source.

His movements seemed instinctual as sunlight fed into Markl's motions. One moment he physically heaved the heavy weights off Kenta's limp body and the next he used power and ability which had seemed so distant from his memory. This was far from brute force, however. This was pure magic.

He pressed the heels of his hands together, conjuring a white light and it gleamed in Kenta's direction. Calcifer shielded himself from the brightness. Markl whispered the words Kenta had been rehearsing to him, only this time everything clicked in his mind.

The rubble vanished into the light, mostly disintegrating into ash. Kenta nearly toppled onto the ground as he took his first deep breath in over a day. He knelt on the ground as he coughed roughly. His muscles tingled from the lack of use and he struggled to gain control of them at first. He moved his arms and legs around to bring the feeling back to them, but he was more amazed by how he was free in the first place.

Kenta looked up to Markl, the boy jumping with joy. "I... I did it!"

Calcifer darted his eyes between the two of them. "How did you... what did you do?"

Markl stopped jumping as he searched his memory. It happened so quickly and he didn't have to think twice about what to do. It just happened.

Kenta walked on shaky legs toward him. "It was the sun, wasn't it?"

Markl's eyes widened. "You're right. I felt the sun on my back and there was this burst of energy in me. All the spells, the motions... everything just made sense again."

Kenta smiled. "For some reason, I thought you were a magician of light."

"Light?" Calcifer stared at him. "Are you sure? That's such a rare source."

"And a source that fits Markl's personality perfectly," Kenta said. He turned to the boy, whose eyes were filled with wonder. "Your powers are strongest in the light of day, something you may have noticed but didn't think too much of before. I guess it took losing your magic for you to find everything you needed."

Markl bowed his head, his mind revolving around this new revelation. A creature of light - looking back, he couldn't tell how it wasn't more obvious to him, or even to Master Howl. His training focused on releasing one's source, but Markl's magic was slow in the process. Knowing what he was, knowing where his magic came from, was an immense relief.

"Howl's source is darkness." Markl pointed out. "Does that mean... that we're enemies?"

Kenta smiled. "Magicians make enemies by using their abilities against one another. You and Howl have such a close bond, I know you two will only help each other grow." He turned to Calcifer, his eyebrows creased upward. "You know, I've only known of three other magicians whose sources come from light and purity."

Calcifer's flames crackled atop the ash and molten wood. "Master Erikku of the Spirit Realm is the only one I can think of since he was the first."

"That's because the other two were in my apprenticeship with Howl. One of the wizards who attacked us in Ovela, Xarx - he's a magician of light."

Calcifer shook his head. "Look where that's gotten him."

Markl leaned in closer. "Who was the other?"

Kenta turned to the boy, his face dropping and growing colder. "Someone you would never guess. Suliman's son, Owen."