It was raging, and it was dominant, so dominant that she could not hold back, continuing to run.

Her silver hair had now felt the impinging wind, which implied a great battle was to come soon. She dashed through the forest, swinging her sword at any posing thickets and brushes that stood in her way. It was her infuriation, her irritated state of mind that caused her to relapse her emotions onto nature. It was anger that she could not fully reveal to Mlad'at. Now she had to show him that she could fight and that she was not weak anymore.

She could feel her energy declining with every step she took, and the bruise that had been partly taken care of before was beginning to afflict her again. When climbing up the forest mounds to return to where she came from, the bruise had taken full effect, and she lost her footing and tumbled down the mound, landing in a pile of leaves and dead branches. She had lost hold of Hnesveta as well, taking several minutes to find it in the darkness.

So many obstacles in my way, Silva thought as she compiled her willpower to get back up.

The pain from the bruise caused her knees to shake a bit. She picked Hnesveta up from the ground and shook off the leaves and branches from her undershirt. It had gotten extremely dirty now, as she had worn it for some time and had forgotten to change in the house. But she kept going, up the mound and across the flat forest ground, which would lead her back to her destination.

She jogged, ran, and ran more and more until her boots only touched the ground for less than a second. She didn't care now about her stamina, painful bruise, or anything else that was an obstacle in front of her. All she wanted now was to fight with the sword that was given to her and unleash all the built-in anger suppressed inside. 

She eventually passed by the pond and the icehouse, still using as much energy as she could muster to run as fast as she could through the woody muteness of the forest. She was the only one making any noise, with her boots stomping on the ground covered with abundant darkish green leaves and acorn scrapings. She hadn't noticed these sounds before, but her intense focus disarranged her attention to many other sounds and sights.

She then heard a fawn, one lonely and young deer among the rustling leaves. Turning her eyes to a patch of thickets, she noticed that the young fawn had been awakened from its sleep and was staring at Silva intently with its beady black eyes. Silva did not conceal herself behind the trees, speculating if she was too involved in her problems to understand the feelings of this forest. It was almost as if she was feeding off the intensity of Hnesveta, realizing that her raging fury would never be enough to defeat Markus.

Is this the reason why I am always drawn to places like these because I am an elf? she wondered. Or is there another reason, to feel again? Whatever it is, it really is the closest place where I can be at home. Maybe I should go here to paint next time.

The fawn crept closer to Silva and, fully revealing itself from the thicket bush where it had hidden. Its beige-colored hide displayed its grace below the moonlight, tempting Silva to touch the fawn's fur. However, once it noticed the sword's presence, it took a couple of steps backward and was reluctant to go any further.

"You're afraid," Silva said aloud to the fawn in a calm and gentle voice. "And you're alone. Where is your family, little one?"

She was going to drop the sword at first, but this time, it began to resonate in a reverberant tone, as if it had calmed down from its fury. Then, the peridot gem in the sword's pommel began to glow, the luminous yellow-green color becoming even brighter than before. It glistened in the moonlight, and before Silva could fully notice, the fawn was pacing towards her again. It finally stopped when it had reached Silva, and it gazed at her like she was some otherworldly being.

Without much hesitation, Silva arched her fingers out and caressed them across the fawn's furry hide, and it playfully licked her face in response. Her other hand held onto the sword, as it seemed to be calling the fawn over to Silva in some way.

"Oh, how friendly you are now!" Silva said with a giggle. "You're a good little deer, aren't you?"

With her hands still petting the fawn, Silva spun her head around the forest, watching it intently. Suddenly, the silence was starting to diminish. Many different voices roused and shadows of wildlife appeared from the darkness.

Squirrels descended from the trees, and rabbits burrowed out from the ground, and they gathered at Silva's feet. Deer that followed the fawn's way had surrounded Silva's side, and birds flew down from their nests and perched themselves on Silva's head. Lastly, there arrived a single butterfly, with wings colored marble white, grey markings around the edges of the wings, and antennae that conveyed a deep brown color.

The small butterfly had appeared almost like an apparition, and it landed gracefully on Silva's pointer finger as she lifted her hand to call it. Soon, all types of wildlife had encircled Silva, and she almost felt like the mother of this forest.

She looked again at the butterfly, and for a moment it stood still on her finger until it ascended again and landed on the tip of Hnesveta, its pure-white wings almost reflected off the moon. Then, Silva felt the butterfly emanate a surging aura, energy so great that it passed through the sword and flowed into her veins. Her eyes then changed, from their emerald-green color to white, and her skin tone radiated milky-white over pale. She now shone brightly under the moon, like a spirit amongst the colorful woodland.

The butterfly now arose from Hnesveta, and it flew closer to her until it tapped its antennae onto Silva's nose. She heard a voice, a voice that was so gentle that it reminded her of her mother's voice, although it sounded more masculine than feminine.

Life has a meaning.

Then the butterfly spread its small wings and flew away from Silva's sight, the wildlife around her following the butterfly until all that was left was the young fawn. But, as Silva recognized, the fawn had drastically changed, and it had now grown into a large and prideful stag. Its antlers and reddish fur amazed Silva, and she was so amazed that she touched the stag's fur once more to see if what she felt was indeed real.

The stag licked her face again and knelt on one leg as if it was signaling Silva to mount it. "You're an adult now," Silva said to the stag as she obediently climbed up its hide and sat with Hnesveta still in her hand. "Let's see how far you can go."

As fast as the wind, the stag pranced through the trees and thickets. Minutes passed, and it soon followed the leafy trail down, down the mound where Silva first entered the forest. With one gallop into the air and Silva holding on to its antlers, the stag exited the forest in style and Silva saw the manor.

She couldn't glimpse at it for long, as the stag quickly passed the house and followed down the stone path that led to the main road. Making a sharp right some miles forward, the stag turned to the hillside. There lay the valley and river beyond it, where Silva's training with Markus had been taking place.

"I knew he was going to be there," Silva told the stag.

After traveling the farmlands, they arrived at the tall grass that emerged from the valley, and Silva could see Markus sitting alone on the bank of the river. Getting off the stag, and with one last stroking of its fur, she motioned it to leave her. 

"Thank you, friend, and hurry back to your family now," Silva insisted to the stag. "I have my own family to take care of now."

The stag nodded, and with one touch of its snout to Silva's nose, it hurried off behind her.

Silva brandished Hnesveta again, and as she emerged from the tall grass, she ushered a fierce war cry that could be heard throughout the entire valley. Markus was staggering from his position in astonishment and moved his eyes until he could see Silva standing at the edge of the northern riverside.

"Markus Siegfried!" Silva called out to him. "Son of Olaf, soldier of Morkazaan, and master of Earth! I challenge you to a duel, one-on-one until the other cannot continue. My victory will ensure the end of my training. Do you accept these terms?"

Markus did not hesitate, nor did he falter backing down from Silva's challenge. Silva knew that he had too much pride in him to refuse. He rose from the river and uttering the ancient language he commanded a sword to appear from the rocky ground. It looked the same as the sword he always created to train Silva, however, this time he looked more serious than ever before. Perhaps it was because he saw Silva had her own sword now and that she was fully ready to face him as well.

"I accept," Markus proclaimed, and he brandished his sword as well. "Come at me with all you've got, Silva!"

She charged at him head-on, with Hnesveta only in her left hand, and her right swinging back and forth in the wind. She decided that she would ultimately depend on her left to create her strikes and would use her right to motion her stance. She began with an upper strike, and as Markus blocked, Silva held the sword facing forward and leaped back, her left leg in front of her right. Markus was surprised, and Silva realized that she had to keep pressuring him until his blocks became slower.

She kept attacking ferociously, with each strike after the other gaining in speed. Markus soon figured out what she was trying to do, and he used a two-handed push that forced Hnesveta back. Silva was interrupted by her advance.

"Now it's my turn!' Markus bellowed.

He fended Silva off with multiple two-handed attacks, and each one was getting stronger. But Hnesveta was not like his sword, and it was rarely affected by the hefty strikes. Silva knew that she could not just rely on this new sword, she had to use her instincts and environment to create an opportunity to attack again.

With Markus's next strike, Silva pivoted her feet counterclockwise until her boots were almost touching the river water. She dragged her left leg around, moving her body and right hand which dodged Markus's leftward blow. She cupped her right hand and collected a ball of water, and after spinning around she splashed it on Markus's face. The moment his eyes were blinded she lunged Hnesveta forward to topple Markus's sword from his hands.

But to Silva's dismay, Markus had already recovered and used his shoulders to dodge the strike, and another blow was going for Silva's side until he stopped.

It was the side where he had bruised her before. Silva felt discouraged since he was not taking her seriously once again.

"I'm not weak!" Silva exclaimed, dipping Hnesveta into the river.

She started to feel roots grow on her left arm and bruised side. They had sprouted from Hnesveta's contact with the rivergrass. Silva assumed Hnesveta had grown these roots from the rivergrass, even though it was still absurd to believe.

Markus was shocked by what Silva was experiencing, but he didn't let the surprise get to his focus. "It seems that your Nature side wants you to win," he said to her. "So much that it diverged from your mana and developed its very own mana skin."

Markus then grinned at Silva, and after saying "Skalní brnění! (Rock Armor)," his right arm became engulfed in rock just like his sword. "Fine then, I'll start getting serious as well."

And serious he was, as the hardened sword became even tougher as it collided with Hnesveta. However, Silva did not delay, and she did not feel at all weighed down by the evergreen roots. She even felt lighter as if the tree roots were supplying life energy to Silva, making her even swifter than before.

Soon, Silva's attacks were getting tiresome for Markus to parry, and even as he was able to dodge some, his earth arm was taking a toll on his speed. He used the arm multiple times as a shield, and every time Hnesveta was parried, the roots would cover the weakened spots of the sword.

Markus grew ever more frustrated, and he changed his fighting stance to where he was standing upright, and he was clenching the dull rock sword with both hands. He was going fully on the defensive until Silva wore herself out.

I knew you would do that, Silva thought with a smirk. Now to show you what all this training has been for, old man.

Silva ran at Markus again, with the sword's tip facing down and her right hand holding the pommel. She was planning to trick Markus, deceiving him with an upward heavy swing to the right and switching to her left hand to perform a light strike to the wrist. This would cause Markus to drop his sword and surrender, ensuring Silva's victory. It was the exact opposite of her previous plan, hoping he wouldn't notice.

And with her right foot taking a massive step forward, she did just that, hunching her shoulders and pivoting her body so that she could perform her attack. She heaved Hnesveta so, but halfway through her attack she quickly thought of a better idea. It seemed that Markus predicted her trickery, as he had switched his stance where his knees were bent more, and his sword was arched behind him so that Silva couldn't reach with her left-handed strike.

Silva exerted a sigh of relief. This is why I've never been able to beat him, she thought. My bluffs were too obvious, which was why he was able to predict each one. Now I know, to deceive someone else you must first deceive yourself.

She decided now to use what had been graciously given to her, the very power inside that she had longed to present to the world. It was the magic vested in her by her mother, the element of Nature she wished to have with her when she fought her battles. It was a sign for Silva, that her mother was right there beside her, watching over her and doing her very best to keep her daughter safe. This magic, she realized, was the magic she was proud to possess. Knowing this she raised her left-rooted arm, performing her left-handed strike as she had intended to.

But this attack was different.

As she saw Markus attempting the same strike she was, Silva used the remaining energy she had left to envision a mental image, where the roots had grown so long that they would cover Hnesveta entirely. To do this, she had to let go of the roots covering her bruise, and it made her grit and wince in pain since the healing energy the roots were providing was halted. The roots then slithered up her body and moved their way to Hnesveta, entangling it to the point where no part of the sword was revealed.

At last, she had Markus baffled, as when they both began their attack, she could see the anxious expression on his face. With a cry of conviction, Silva thrust Hnesveta until it grazed the dulled stone sword. As the two elements of magic clashed with one another, the roots concealing Silva's sword began to soften, and a thick, amber-yellow sap oozed out from the tree roots and adhered to Markus's sword. This let Silva able to loosen his grip on the sword, and with one wrenching pull she jolted the sword from his hand, and it clattered onto the ground. She directed Hnesveta to Markus's neck, thus indicating the victor of the duel.

Markus sighed, knowing that he was under subjugation. "I concede defeat," he ushered, throwing both hands into the air. "The victory is yours, Silva."

Yet, it did come with retaliation.

"And it was only due to luck!" he declared, as his pride as a warrior still showed itself to Silva. "First, you show up with a fancy-looking sword, and then you start to grow tree roots out of thin air! I don't know what sort of sorcery you performed before this duel, young lady, but it does not in the slightest mean that you bested me in combat!"

"I won fair and square!" Silva retorted back.

It didn't help to know that his statement had some truth to it. Silva did emit some of her Nature magic without ever practicing it, and she did just receive a powerful sword from her meeting with the Guardian Tree. Nonetheless, Silva knew how to outwit Markus with her given powers, and that was enough for her at least.

"I know that once trees are first grown, their roots produce sap that then transmits to their leaves," Silva explained. "So, I used that sap to force you to drop your sword. And that means that I bested you in combat!"

"Out of all the ways to lose," Markus groaned, as he seemed not to care about her reasoning, "It's to tree sap! It appears that old age is laughing at my foolishness." The encased rock on his right arm started to vanish, as did the dulled sword.

"You lost to me, not tree sap!" Silva exclaimed. "You lost because of my knowledge of nature. I have studied my surroundings of the forest for many years as a child, and now they have finally come to fruition!"

Markus frowned, and Silva noticed his forehead had more wrinkles to it than before. "If you love trees and plants so much," he inferred, "Then why not become a botanist? I'm sure you'll love it as much as you love your artistic hobbies."

"No!" Silva said in defilement. "I'm striving to be an artist, and that's that! After all this nonsense is finally over, I'll become an artist!"

With those words, a faint smile came from Markus's withered and old face. He walked closer to Silva, and before she knew it, his arms had come around and clenched Silva tightly, with her chin feeling his drooped and stiff shoulders. She was startled at first, but after feelings of submission, she put her arms around his back, embracing the hug he decided to give. It was the only time she could remember receiving a hug such as this, so she wanted to cherish it for as long as she could.

"And you're one step closer," he told her. "One step closer to reaching your dream. You're strong enough to fend for yourself now, which means that my training with you has finally ended."

Her ears drifted closer to his face, and she heard the soft travels of tears tumbling towards his cheeks. Even though he was usually a stubborn man, his emotions revealed themselves beside the flowing river.

"I'm sorry for making you wait for so long," Markus said, his face now tilted towards the moon. "I've finally repaid all of your troublesome favors, you foolish coot."

Silva realized he was talking to Alfred, and she remembered the three favors Alfred had asked Markus to do for him for when he met Silva. She believed that he had achieved all three now, and Silva could not have asked for a better mentor and father figure. It didn't feel right to say before, but now she could accept it, and she was happy that she did.

"Stupid old man," she said to Markus, and she released her arms from his back, looking at him with eyes that had turned back to their original color. "Warriors aren't supposed to let their emotions get the better of them."

"If you really think that, then you still have much to learn," Markus proclaimed, and he released his arms from the hug as well and wiped the rest of his tears from his face. "Well, never mind that, I can see that you exerted too much stress onto your bruise again, so we'll have you stay in the house and rest for a week or two. I forbid you from doing any reckless activities during that time, and that is final."

"That's overdoing it!" Silva shouted at him, voicing her disapproval. "No bruise ever takes that long to heal!"

"I said what I said," Markus stated. "Emilie will yell at me until the end of days if you worsen that bruise any further. I can tell it's still hurting, Silva."

He was right once again, and she decided not to argue with him further. She knew that she needed time, time to find out what she was going to do for the future. There was no need to rush, as she still had the Siegfried family to look after her for now. Until the time came, she would remain with them and enjoy her peaceful life in the countryside, without dwelling too much on what to do next. However, she expected that she wouldn't stay relaxed forever.

"Okay then, if you say so," Silva grunted, her words of approval not sounding as genuine. "What am I to do during that time? I'll be so bored!"

"Well, there are many things you can do," Markus offered, and he had a sleek smile on his face. "You can sweep up the attic or mop up the floorboards; the possibilities are endless!" His laughter echoed out into the night, and he was clutching the back of his head as well.

"I didn't mean doing chores!" Silva said. "Doing more of those will make me even more bored!"

"No, you and the others are going to help Emilie out more often," Markus told her. "If you want something else to do, then perhaps you can examine my father's study in the basement. He has many books and records shelved down there. Inside, you can find countless knowledge of Czahunlia and its history, containing information on the varieties of races, lands, kingdoms, countries, etcetera. If you intend to save this nation, Silva, then I suppose you should know more about it."

Those words were like sugar, as they appealed to her more than she could ever imagine. She could learn about everything she ever wanted to know. What places did Olaf Siegfried visit, what was their history, and who ruled the land before the Czahun, so many other questions she had about the world might be answered just a basement away. Her eyes of satisfaction and enthusiasm gleamed at Markus, but she then wondered if it was okay for her to go down there.

Markus could tell what she was thinking, stating, "Yes, you can go down there and study to your heart's content. I think my father would be proud if someone else read his work, and it will benefit you if someday you leave Czésta and journey out into the world beyond."

This time, he didn't lower his head, but he knelt on the ground with his hands behind his back. "Now, I reckon we should get going before the moon gets any brighter," he told Silva. "We don't want anyone waking up to our disappearance, don't we?"

Silva nodded, and with another sigh, she dragged herself onto Markus's back, and with one heave he stood upright with Silva holding onto his shoulders and to Hnesveta as well. After that, he trotted down the riverbank and entered the tall grass, the wind beginning to die down as they walked amongst the silence. Silva could not see the stag around the wide plain when they exited the tall grass. It must have listened to her wish and ran back to its family, which made Silva pleased. She had a family to go back to as well.

"When we get back, we'll have to ice the bruise again," Markus told Silva. "And you'll need a bath as well, and a clean change of clothes, oh, and we'll need to find someplace to hide that new sword of yours; we don't want anyone finding out about that now and how you got hold of it. That'll be too many questions left with vague answers, I reckon. Well, for now, sleep is most important, do you hear me?"

"Right, right," she assured him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Silva saw the stag again, standing proudly in the middle of the field. It was looking at her directly with its opal-white eyes. She could see the mirage of a rickety, white house behind it.

"Home is this way," said the stag.