Icarius stood still, staring up at the towering walls of the Duke's palace. The sheer size of it all made him feel small, yet he couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and discomfort. The smooth marble steps, the meticulously sculpted statues that lined the entrance, and the gold-embroidered banners hanging above all pointed to the wealth and power of the people who lived here. "So this is where nobles live," Icarius thought. He never cared much for these kinds of people—they were usually more trouble than they were worth—but here he was, about to leave Freya, Gideon, and Esmeralda in their care.
As their carriage rolled to a stop, a high-pitched voice broke through the silence. "Freya! Gideon! Lady Esmeralda!" A maid rushed out from behind the gates, nearly tripping over herself as she waved frantically at the others. The huge palace doors creaked open, and more maids spilled out into the garden, forming a circle around the group. Freya and Gideon were quickly swept into tight hugs, while Esmeralda was practically smothered with happy tears.
Icarius hung back, watching the reunion with a faint smile. "They're home," he thought, feeling a twinge of satisfaction that his job was done. Just as he turned to leave, one of the maids caught sight of him. Her eyes narrowed, and she marched over with an air of suspicion. "Who's that? He looks like he crawled out of a cave," she said, her tone dripping with judgment.
Before Icarius could respond, Esmeralda stepped in. "He's the one who brought us here safely. His name is Icarius."
The maid didn't look convinced. "Well, what's he still doing here? He doesn't belong."
Icarius chuckled softly and shook his head. He wasn't interested in sticking around for any more awkward stares or questions. "Guess that's my cue," he muttered under his breath. He gave a casual wave to Esmeralda and the kids. "I gotta go now. Thanks for the company along the way. I wish y'all the best." He turned and began walking away, not waiting for a reply.
Freya, who had been silently watching, took a step forward as if to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply whispered, "Goodbye, Icarius." She felt a strange sadness as she watched him walk off, disappearing around the corner of the city. Something in her hoped she'd see him again.
Icarius didn't waste time as he left the palace. The bustling streets of the capital were full of life, but he was already planning his next move. "Six months until the next exam… That's plenty of time to explore," he thought, pulling out a map he had bought from a local vendor. His eyes scanned the area around Turpinia, and one spot caught his attention: the Elven Forest Union. A mysterious and mostly unexplored area on the map, it seemed like the perfect place for an adventure. "I'll head there," he decided. "I can always sneak in if things get tricky."
But first, he needed a change. His hair had grown a bit too long and was becoming a hassle. Stopping at a small barbershop, he trimmed it back, making sure it was short enough not to get in his eyes. With that done, he left the city behind and ventured toward the forest, eager for whatever lay ahead.
As he traveled deeper into the forest, the scenery changed. The trees grew taller, their thick canopies blocking out most of the sunlight. The air was cool, filled with the scent of moss and earth. Icarius felt a sense of calm but also a lingering unease. Something about this place felt off, like the shadows were watching him. He shook off the thought and pressed on. "It's just a forest. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."
Hours passed, and the path became less clear. Icarius wasn't sure if he was heading in the right direction anymore. "This map is useless," he muttered, crumpling it and shoving it into his pocket. Just as he was about to turn back, he heard faint voices. They were distant, echoing through the trees. Curious, he dismounted Astrid and gave him a pat. "Stay here, I'll check it out," he whispered.
Moving silently, Icarius crept toward the voices. But the closer he got, the heavier the air felt. His instincts screamed danger, but before he could react, the ground beneath him shuddered violently. The earth split open, and he was pulled down into a dark pit. He landed hard on a cold stone floor, wincing in pain. As he tried to get his bearings, an eerie voice filled the space around him.
"Finally, I've found you, seventh sage," the voice hissed. It was laced with ancient malice. "The one who stole our powers and wasted them."
Icarius's eyes narrowed. "What is this?" he thought, trying to sense the presence behind the voice, but there was nothing—just emptiness.
"This is just a recording," the voice continued. "But I am the third sage, master of magic. I've trained for centuries to surpass even you. Now, you'll face the ultimate punishment—sealing magic. Your powers will be locked away forever unless you can break free without them. It's impossible, isn't it? The other sages are likely dead, but I'm not taking any chances. So, I seal you now!"
Before Icarius could even process the words, searing pain shot through his entire body. He screamed as waves of agony crashed over him, each pulse tearing at his very essence. It felt like hours, days even, of torment, but eventually, he blacked out.
When he finally awoke, Icarius was a husk of his former self. The connection to his powers was gone—he felt hollow, empty. He tried to stand, but his legs were weak, trembling under the weight of what had just happened. "What… what did they do to me?" he thought, his mind racing with panic. He reached out, trying to summon even a flicker of magic, but there was nothing—just a void where his strength used to be.
As he sat there, dazed and lost, a different voice echoed in the darkness. This one was calm, almost indifferent. "You must be reeling from the shock and the emptiness. I don't care about that. But I've left coordinates for a location you should visit once you're ready. I'm no longer alive, but your powers are stored within this cave. Remember the location."
Something clicked in Icarius's mind as he forced himself to focus. "Coordinates… a way to get my power back," he thought. He committed the location to memory, clinging to it as his last hope.
Without warning, the pit vanished, and Icarius found himself standing in the forest again. Everything was as it was before, except now he was alone, powerless, and unsure of what to do next. The dense trees surrounded him like silent sentinels, and for the first time in a long while, he felt truly vulnerable, left with nothing