Prologue

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From the teachings of The Radiant Path, the Book of Resilience, written in the Pure Tongue

From the teachings of The Radiant Path, the Book of Resilience, written in the Pure Tongue

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Ohtar-nín, na lírë tasar tiel i fëanor, ar i nárë símanen olvar yassen.

My warrior, the spark may not start the fire, but the flames will roar in the end.


Year One

The young girl, no older than eight years of age, clearly had a strong elvish lineage, given her stark white hair and clear blue eyes, the professors had murmured upon her arrival at Elindar Academy of Magic. She would likely grow into a fine mage if her lineage was of any indication. While the adults murmured of powers and politics, Eira herself had been fascinated by the many forms of magic that were taught there, from the elemental magic of fire and water to the enchantments of the mind and soul.

She was admitted quickly and soon Eira found herself stumbling alongside a kind looking water mage through the grand halls of the academy. She was overwhelmed by the new environment, and she clung to the sleeve of the teacher who had brought her there. A classroom door burst open, and a wave of snow pelted them as they made their way down the corridor. Though magic had seemed inviting in her books, experiencing it for the first time made Eira realize how dangerously real it was, and how cold she felt in its presence.

"I don't know if I can do this," Eira whispered, her voice trembling.

With a warm smile, the teacher knelt to look the trembling child in the eyes. "Of course, you can, dear. You have a gift, a powerful one, and we're here to help you learn to control it."

Eira's eyes widened in wonder. "I have a gift?"

The teacher nodded. "Yes, dear. You're a mage, like many of the others here. And we'll help you learn to harness your powers."

Her nose scrunched in distaste. "Will my powers always make me cold?"

The woman laughed lightly, glancing back towards the classroom. The door had been thrust shut, and snow melted in the hallway. "Well then, I suppose you're not an ice mage. Perhaps you have a proclivity for fire, Eira."

Over the next few weeks, Eira learned that she did in fact manage to conjure fire. She began to attend classes and learn the basics of magic. She was amazed by the different spells and incantations and couldn't wait to try them out for herself. But whenever she tried to perform a spell, it always seemed to go wrong.

One day, Eira had tried to conjure a small flame in the palm of her hand, but instead, she had created a burst of sparks that had set her robes alight. She had cried out in fear, and the other students had looked at her with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"It's okay, Eira," one of the students had run after her when they had been dismissed for lunch, a girl named Freya with warm hazel eyes. "It happens to everyone at first. The first time I tried to levitate a rock, it exploded instead." She tapped her chin, a pale scar on her olive skin.

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