Fox grumbled as the howling wind picked up and bit at his already cold cheeks. The canopies of the nearby forest swayed dangerously, branches cracking and trunks groaning. Behind the thick grey clouds disappeared the bit of sunlight that had fooled the whole of Moondale into thinking Spring would pay them another visit.

In this stormy weather, he'd rather be sitting in front of the warm fireplace at home than sauntering behind Katla and trudging through the pools of mud that had formed when the rain had returned to the land. Those stupid grey clouds had dropped their load with such force that they had kept him up all night.

For hours he had tossed and turned until—tired of his sheets and thoughts smothering him—he had gone down into the living room with his bag of marbles in his hand. Though Katla had been sawing his nightly logs, he had plunked the bag on his master's pillow, saying. "Katla, I'm almost eleven, almost a man. I don't wanna play with silly children's toys anymore."

Groaningly, Katla had cursed the Gods (and him too). After smacking his lips, his master had conjured a small red flame in his hand and had looked at him as though he had spoken a different language.

"Can I toss my marbles in the fireplace and burn them?" Fox had asked, then without taking a breath he had added. "I also wanna forget Mallard ever lived. Can you erase my memories of him?"

Katla had raised an eyebrow. "No... and no."

"Why not?"

He had put one finger up. "For one, it's the middle of the night."

"I can't sleep."

A second finger had been waving in his face. "Two, those marbles are made out of glass so regular flames won't burn them—"

"I can do it!"

"And three." Katla now had had three fingers up. "I'm done tinkering with memories. I'm not that good an Air Magician. Something might go wrong. And then what?"

"It won't," Fox had argued. "You just don't want to do it."

"You're right about that." Katla had plucked the marble bag from his pillow and handed it back to him. "We'll figure something out for these. Go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"But..."

Katla's red flame had disappeared before Fox had had the chance to remind his master that he was wide awake and couldn't sleep. Since Katla hadn't said that he should go back to his own bed, Fox stayed on the rug by his master's bed, the marble bag hidden under a pillow that he had shoved under the bed and his knees clutched to his body.

The wound on his chest had stung. To ease the pain, he had rubbed the vague outline of that fresh scar that ran all the way from his nipple to his collarbone. The length of the tip of his thumbnail—that was how close he had been to the Heavenly Halls.

Or the Seven Hells.

He had killed a man, after all.

A snapping, crunching noise appeared from behind him. Startled out of his thoughts, he gasped. A flame green in colour erupted in his hand. He was ready to attack as a white critter with pearly black eyes squeaked and scampered back into the shrub he had come from.

"It was nothing—just a mouse." Katla wrapped an arm around him, pushing him forward onto the barren training field just outside of Moondale.

"I'm not afraid. I just didn't expect it to be there," Fox said more bravely than he felt.

He remained close to Katla, close to safety, wishing to go back to a time when he didn't have to fear for his life. Back when Seb wasn't the Crown Prince of The Greenlands, when Father was still his father and Mother the only person who had never kept any secrets from him.

Now he was the bastard son of Lord Brandon and Seb's younger brother; heir to the Greenlander throne—if the Gods ever decided that a magician must wear the obsidian crown.

"Ironic," Leo had said with a broad grin when he had dropped by the other day to see how he was doing. "You'd think Half-Ear would rejoice to have another heir. Seems like he prefers Ari or Fe over a magician of his own blood."

But neither King Ariel nor Prince Felix would ever rule The Greenlands. King Ariel had promised to help him become the best magician in the world. Once he was big and strong, they would overthrow the evil King and claim the throne together.

King Ariel would rule from Moonstone Castle. He as regent from Sunstone Castle. The twin cities and castles finally united again after nine hundred years.

Fox kicked against a stone, which went rolling downhill into a pool. If only the plan didn't involve killing Seb, he would be excited to known and feared by all. As first magician King in the history of The Greenlands, there would be no more looking over his shoulders, fearing his uncle hadn't been tricked by the bloody necklace that King Ariel had sent and that the next spy was coming to kill him.

"I think this is a good spot," Katla announced as he halted by a tuft of mud-damaged grass.

Fox pouted. He still wanted his marbles gone but didn't understand why Katla insisted on doing it outside. They were both skilled Fire Magicians; the risk of burning the house down didn't exist. "I don't like it. There's too much water to start a fire."

"This bit?" Katla pushed the tip of his shoe into the wet sand. "That won't stop the best magician in the five kingdoms, won't it?"

"Maybe."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"I'm gonna have to use green flames to melt the marbles." Fox looked around. From the stone city walls and the cat statues guarding Moondale all the way to the dense pinewood forest in the west, there weren't any other people around but them. "I don't want to accidentally hit someone and kill them."

"We're the only Foambrains out there in this weather." Katla snickered. "But I'll keep watch, if that would please His Majesty?"

"Katla!" Fox smacked his master's back.

"Just helping you to conjure the right flames."

"I can do that without you." He untied the string of his pouch and scooped out a hand-full of glass balls. Most of their once so bright colours had faded, and some of them had scorch-marks already. He crouched low and placed them in between two puddles of muddy water. "For those that told me lies." He grabbed another handful. "For those that underestimated me." He paused to gather the marbles that were rolling away, then reached for the last dozen balls. "And for those that betrayed me. May they all burn in The Seven Hells."

As Katla nodded his approval, Fox stretched his injured arm, the scar sending a stifling pain all the way to the tip of his fingers. He winced, yet embraced the root of his bad thoughts. Mallard was an evil man who had served an evil King. Death was all he deserved.

A beam of poison green flames shot out of his hand and enwrapped the pile of marbles. The fire instantly cracked the glass, tiny fragments flying upwards only to disappear in the brownish smoke that rose together with the flames. When the cracking stopped, the sizzling began and created a lump of sticky red paste that hardened and burnt further like a syrup that someone had abandoned in a pot above a smouldering stove.

He repeated the trick thrice until all that Mallard had created was gone. It didn't change much. The memories of him were still alive and kicking in the back of his mind.

Katla swung an arm around him and pulled him into his embrace. "You did well. I'm proud of you, son."

"But I'm not your son!" He jerked free as the God of Wrath took control over his voice. He couldn't stop the God, His words flowing out in a stream of suppressed anger. "Nor am I the son of a blacksmith. No, I am now the son of a former Prince who was my Lord and is now my father. My best friend is my brother, and my uncle wants me dead."

"So..." Katla paused. "Fox, I'm here to protect you, train you, and help you become all you ever wanna be."

"But it's hard and confusing. I wish people hadn't lied to me—you least of all."

"I didn't know." Katla licked his lips, his eyes darting away from the conversation. He swallowed visibly. "Not when I took you, anyway. I believed you were an oppressed magician, mistreated by both friends and family. Your mother clearly loved you, but she mollycoddled you."

"She did not. I liked her cuddles. They were better than yours."

"Maybe, but I'm not wrong about your father."

"Which one?" 

Katla threw him a glance. "Is the answer any different?"

The memory of Father's slick blonde hair and soot cheeks turned into Lord Brandon's black hair and harsh features. Blue eyes turning to green, the colour of his own eyes. "Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know, and I don't wanna think about it."

"Then... we gotta do something so you won't think of it." Katla winked.

Fox cocked his head. "Did you change your mind? Are you going to erase my memories after all?"

"No, never again. But we're gonna do something involving magic." Katla wiggled his eyebrows. "My Air Magic is limited, but I'm not a shabby Fire Magician myself, if I may say so."

"You are during winter."

"Winter has left the land, son."

"I'm not sure winter got that message, Katla, cause it came back." Fox gestured at the sky that was dark with heavy clouds threatening to drop their fresh load at any moment.

"I've lived long enough in Moondale to know only snow makes for winter. That's just rain."

"Just rain?" Fox mocked him. "Rain is water, and I hate water."

"Now you're just being grumpy for the sake of it, aren't you?" Katla held his chin high. "Tell me, son, how many coins have you saved for that sword of yours?"

"My sword?"

"Yeah, the fox-shaped sword you want Corbin to make for you. Weren't you catching rats and selling them to Falcon to earn money?"

"Right." He scratched his cheek, hardly remembering the last time he had counted his coins. "I don't have enough, maybe like twenty silverlings and a couple of bronze coins. I would have had more, but I spent most on buying you food when you were sick."

"Which you didn't have to."

Fox shivered as a gust of ice-cold wind blew over him. "I did it anyway. You're my friend. I didn't want you to starve."

"Next winter, don't. I appreciated the gesture, but you made it worse for me."

"Why?"

"Cause your visits,  they made me...." Katla tensed. He didn't finish his sentence. "Anyway, winter is over, and I wanna pay you back."

"But you don't owe me anything."

"Stubborn child." Katla let out a snort, ruffling through his hair. "I knew you were going to say that, so I thought of something else. A game for boys who are nearly men. And their masters too."

Another gust of wind swept over the field, causing goosebumps to grow on Fox's skin. "Will the game make me warm again?"

"Oh yes. Do you wanna hear it?"

"Yes."

"So. I was thinking that you and I could have a small rat-catching competition. Whoever catches ten rats first gets to keep all the coins from Falcon, and the loser..." Katla poked Fox in the belly, to which he giggled. "... will have to do the dishes."

"No, no, no. I'm gonna win, Katla. There's no way I'm gonna do the dishes. Have you seen the pile in the kitchen? It looks like you haven't touched one of those dirty plates since... since..."

"Since our spring cleaning a couple of weeks ago? You're not wrong. Most of those plates actually belong to Doe because she kept on bringing food."

"Sloth lives in you, Katla. You didn't cook, you didn't do the dishes—what did you do?" Fox started running towards the edge of the forest, where there were more patches of long grass and small shrubberies for rodents to hide the entrance to their burrows. 

He didn't need an answer from his master. He was well aware of what had kept Katla busy: figuring out who had murdered Princess Panthera.

When Leo had visited them, Katla had pleaded the warrior to let his cousin see reason. "Ariel is demanding answers, but I have none. I'm a magician, not a poison master."

"You must," was all Leo had said about the matter before offering to play cards. Katla hadn't brought the subject up anymore.

Fox approached an ivy-covered wood stump that had once been an old oak tree under which the farmer responsible for the land took shelter from the rain. Rumour had it Hunter had burned it down during his training with Katla. The rodents didn't eat the ivy, but snails did, and rats didn't mind a slimy breakfast. "I'm gonna lie here," he announced to Katla.

"If you insist," Katla said with a grin.

"Yes, and I'm going to beat you." His shoulder protested as he laid down on the field, his clothes uncomfortably soaking up the ice cold water, his hands caked in filth.

His master crouched against a tree by the road and closed his eyes. Fox did the same to concentrate on the world around him. His heart beat steadily in his chest, playing the song of pulsating pain. A first raindrop landed on his nose, and then a second...

He hated being there so much that green sparks sprung from his fingertips.

Minutes passed, then something stirred in the distance. He hastened up and opened his eyes, yet could only witness his master sliding towards the rolling water in the creek, a thin beam of green light shooting out of the palm of his hand and knocked over the thick brown creature with wormish tail. 

It was dead before it could utter a squeak.

Fox huffed and retreated back to his waiting spot. Katla would get that one, but he would get the other ten. But with a wind so loud and rain so wet, it was hard to focus on the rustling of leaves or the pitter patter of rat feet.

I'll break the dishes if I have to do them. One way or another, I will beat Katla in this stupid game.

A light peep was all that was needed for the deadly magic to twirl around his fingers. A few feet from him, a rat was crossing the field with something white in its mouth. He darted behind it, but the rodent's legs were faster.

He crouched down, ready to fire a ball of green light and hit the rat in its side. Yet as his knee hit the pool, there came a green ray of light from behind him. A blink later the creature laid on its back, fur smoking and its four paws in the air.

"That's number two, son. You're too slow."

"My shoulder hurts," Fox gave as an excuse.

"Do you wanna call it quits?" Katla asked as he picked up the dead rat.

"No." Fox pouted. He rubbed his shoulder. "It doesn't hurt that much."

For the third round, he kept his eyes open. He took in every shadow of birds that flew over the field, watched how the wind shook petals off their stems and tasted the rain that fell on his lips.

Katla stomped his foot loudly, sweeping a wave of air across the field, scooping up a rat from beneath the bushes and sending it towards them with a force mightier than the wind.

Not a good Air Magician—what a lie! Fox scrambled to his feet and ran towards the rat. He wasn't going to stand by and watch Katla take an even bigger lead in the game. Ignoring the tingling aches in his shoulder, he set the chase. This rat would be his. He'd rather die than not get this one.

And he was no stranger to Air Magic either.

As a gust of wind approached, he leapt up and swirled the air around his body into a perfect bubble. Now all he had to do was fly over Katla and kill the creature. 

Yet as he soared past his Master, he couldn't stop. The wind pushed him upwards and spun him around. Up was down, and down was up, with no idea of what lied east or west anymore. He clawed his arms to break the spell and burst the bubble, but the air was as thick as a wall.

"Katla! Help me!" Though he was screaming, his voice seemed muffled. He had no idea what was happening, like some outside force was controlling the air bubble instead of him.

His master was but a crumb on a dirty plate and shrinking every second. While his limbs stiffened, his heart beat so wildly he could no longer breathe.

What if King Thomas hadn't been fooled by his fox pendant covered in blood? What if a second assassin had come to kill him? 

Goddess of Kindness, She had to help him now. 

He grew light in the head, feverish almost, as the dark grey clouds ruptured the sky with deafening thunder and pouring rain. His bubble of air collided with a forceful blast of water and burst. 

Uncontrollably, he plunged to the ground.

"KATLAAAAA!!!"