Prologue

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Duels. At first, Elaine never understood their appeal. 

Persons hailing from all walks of life—prideful and arrogant goldbloods, lowborns with empty pockets, rib cages tightly compacted against their diaphragms—would swarm at these events, much like fire pixies around a lantern, or griffins on the cliff sides of Diamer Coast. But in time, slowly, she unearthed the truth.

There was undoubtedly a thrill to combat, one that couldn't be imitated. It was pure, it was fire, it was bright. People chased that feeling, hoping to catch it in their hands, even if they could only hold onto it for just a few fleeting moments. Perhaps it was an indicator of how mundane their average lives were. Or maybe this was just a definitive and undeniable characteristic of human nature; creatures that they were, scrounging after the corpse of a spectacle.

It wasn't hard to decipher when a duel had begun, just as it wasn't that difficult to locate it. Page was a small, countryside town, isolated at the center of a meadow, removed from the noise and politics of noble society. They normally didn't entertain guests for long, not during the winter months.

This day, in particular, was like an ember in a blizzard; a puddle of warmth in an otherwise frosty dystopia. There was no snow, for it had melted off the floor or peeled off the sides of stone houses. Though if she squinted her eyes and looked in just the right place she could still spot heaps of black-stained powder scattered here and there.

But there was a duel going on. Yes, an especially loud one. There was magic in the air...No, what was it called? Essence. That's right, Essence, the lifeblood of every living creature on the planet. Some possessed more than others, and the shadows weren't lucky enough to receive Aeris' Gift; the mages and the dullards. Elaine was the former—a mage—and she tasted the particles of Essence as they floated in the evening sky.

Heaven above was one, colossal canvas, and it had been brushed over with silky violet as pink clouds rolled. There were only a handful of stars, but they were supposed to be home by now. Ellend was supposed to be home.

His absence only meant one of two things: he'd either nodded off in the Silver Dragon again—his face buried in a textbook as was the case whenever she was forced to march in there and grab him—or he was in a duel.

The clapping of hands. Men shouting and bickering over who they predicted was going to win, a fist filled with duls or bronze. Profane phrases spitting off someone's tongue. Yes, there it was. That feeling. That special, blood-pumping, eye-splitting feeling of a duel. Elaine was little, and so if one of the many familiar strangers shoved their thigh or hip into her, surely, she'd stumble to the ground. And she couldn't have that, she'd just washed this dress. Her mother would be furious.

Aeris, save her. Nothing could stop that woman when she was upset. But Elaine considered herself somewhat of an expert when it came to navigating across these mazes of faces. A step there, a pivot to the right, a slight shuffle forward.

She liberated a gasp as she breached her head out the front row. Here, the infectious excitement was at its peak. The crowd had formed a decent-sized ring around them both, though they had to be careful not to get too close. A stray spell off course and the Medical Mages would have another patient on their hands. Naturally, her eyes were transfixed on her brother. 

He was losing.

Ellend was a well-put-together lad, if not a little lankly, who had just turned fifteen around a month ago—one year older than herself. Fairly popular in town, the boy had a particular, amazing gift for spellcasting. And every now and again she'd catch him chuckling with a farmgirl or helping Lacy—who obviously had eyes for him—carry sacks of grain elsewhere. He'd won the favor and affections of everyone around, and his magic shone as bright as the sun. 

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