Ahrden woke up to the sound of his father barging into his room. Mud, muck and sweat were dripping from his weathered armour, oozing through the individual metal plates. He looked exhausted and in a terrible mood.
'Get dressed Ahrden; we are going to the headmaster,' and with that, he was gone.
It was the second day of the specialist school and not long after the notorious Choosing. William told Ahrden not to go on the first day because it was still unsure how he would pursue the mage class, so he remained at home on the first day. He knew that his father had an advanced warrior class that he trained at dawn and now it seemed that he managed to arrange a hearing afterwards with the headmaster himself.
After the Choosing, his father stopped calling Ahrden his son and instead started calling him simply Ahrden. This subtle, little change was devastating at first, but Ahrden slowly learnt to cope with it, knowing that things would only worsen from here on out. A multitude of other similar changes occurred around Ahrden, which combined proved to be more than a young boy could handle independently. As painful as it was and despite her mother's best efforts to hide it, even she became colder towards him. Ahrden knew that this wasn't going to be an easy path to walk, but he doubted his ability to continue on it right at the beginning.
He got dressed and went out to the kitchen to have his breakfast.
'You'll eat afterwards; it shouldn't take long. Let's go,' William said.
This was odd because his father was a warrior who solely relied on his physical strength and regarded eating as a very sacred thing, for which there always needed to be time. This also must have been another side effect of choosing the mage class.
On the way to the school, they drew a lot of attention, both because his father had not changed his outfit and also because by then, everyone in the capital knew about what had happened at the Choosing. Seeing the two of them walk down the streets towards the school made many onlookers whisper to one another, speculating what could be the reason behind it.
William led the way into the school because where they went was a completely different segment from what Ahrden had attended thus far. These buildings were dedicated to the students who had already gone through the Choosing and were now pursuing the one they chose. His father being a guest teacher here, knew his way around, so they reached the headmaster's office in no time.
When they arrived, the door was ajar, and Ahrden could get a glimpse of the headmaster inside as he was sitting behind his desk reading something. When he heard them arrive, he called out loudly:
'General William, please come in.'
'You wait here,' his father said to Ahrden, then he went into the office and closed the door behind him.
The door was not thick, so Ahrden could hear as the two old friends greeted each other, but afterwards, they lowered their voice so he could no longer make out a single word that they said.
Some time had passed in this manner, with a few teachers entering the waiting room, but after they saw who was waiting outside, they quickly put the pieces together and decided to return later. This continued until suddenly, his name was called from the inside.
Ahrden stood up; he readied himself then entered the office.
His father stood by the desk with the headmaster behind it. Both of them looked serious and tense. The inside of the office looked lavishing and immaculate, with his father standing out remarkably in his current condition. He had left a small stain under him from all the filth that was dripping from him, but the headmaster didn't seem to care.
'This is headmaster Miksten; he is responsible for all the students in the establishment,' his father said as Ahrden approached them.
'And that includes you too, Ahrden. However peculiar your situation is,' Miksten continued with a forced smile that was perfected over the many years.
'Greetings, headmaster Miksten,' Ahrden greeted him, not forgetting his manners.
'Your father had told me that your decision regarding your class has not changed since the Choosing, but if he was wrong and you indeed wish to pursue another class then, this is the time to speak up.'
'My father was right; it has not changed,' Ahrden said in a quiet but firm voice.
'Very well then, this doesn't make things easier, but we have talked about what the best thing for you would be, and we decided that you should pursue the class on your own, at home. We cannot provide you with teachers who had dedicated their lives to reading books about fairy tales, so you'll have to do that on your own. We found a scholar, old Berton, who claims to know the most about the class. I talked to him, and he agreed to take you in and teach you whatever he knows. He lives opposite the bakery on the west side of the capital. Do you know where that is?'
'Yes, I do,' Ahrden replied.
'Good, you'll go to him as often as he wants you to come, but every week you also need to come here and demonstrate what you have learnt, how you have improved. You'll participate in the Trial, and you'll choose a profession afterwards. Is everything clear?'
'Yes, headmaster.'
'Ahrden, thank him for taking care of you like that,' his father instructed him.
'Thank you, headmaster,' Ahrden said in the sincerest way he could muster.
'It's nothing son. The least we could do for the offspring of the greatest warrior we have in our sorry nation,' the headmaster smiled, and William returned the gesture although his thoughts were far away from the compliment.
'Ahrden, go find Berton and start training. He is expecting you,' William instructed him.
'Yes, father,' and with that, Ahrden turned around and left.
Now he knew what his father's plan was with him and he felt betrayed. His father made sure that he would be kept away from everyone else so that his family would not be a daily topic to gossip about. All William had to do was wait for the Trial where no matter what Ahrden could do, he would be voted to pursue a profession rather than the class, and from then on, all of this nonsense would soon sink into the fog of the past. The plan was well-thought-out, and deep down, Ahrden knew it made sense, but at the end of the day, it was his father's doing, and the thought of that made him sick.
Disheartened about how dreadful his future looked, Ahrden headed towards where Berton lived. He was looking forward to meeting him because, despite all the hardships his father had given him, Ahrden was confident that his father made sure to find the most qualified person to teach him magic. He had never met Berton before, nor had he heard much of him, but this must have been due to the simple fact that as someone associated with magic, he was actively overlooked by everyone else.
Ahrden understood how important this first meeting was because this was going to be enough for him to see how his following years were going pan out and, with that, his success or failure at becoming a mage. When he arrived at the house, the first thing he noticed was how much worse its condition was compared to the others surrounding it. He decided to not give much thought to it, so he went up to the door and knocked on it.
Ahrden felt nervous as he stood there, shifting the weight of his body from one leg to another, while clenching and unclenching his fists. He wasn't sure what to expect, but his expectations were high. After nothing had happened, he felt relieved as he had not yet had to deal with the situation, but he knew that getting over it was easier than prolonging it so he repeated the knock. Although it was louder this time, no answer came, and he was about to knock again when he heard a woman's voice come from behind him.
'Are you lost, my dear?' the woman asked in a kind manner.
The question was so odd to Ahrden that at first, he couldn't even respond to it. The woman saw the confusion on the young Ahrden's face, so she helped him out.
'It's just that you are knocking on the door of old Berton, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone do that.'
'I actually came to see him,' Ahrden answered.
Now it was the woman's turn to look confused, which in an instant turned into realization.
'You are the son of general William are you not?' the woman asked in a lot less pleasant manner. 'You came here to learn magic from him.'
The woman already started walking away, not wanting to spend more time helping Ahrden.
'You shouldn't have bothered; that old fool can do even less with magic than Melan, the baker can. You shouldn't have dishonoured your family like that. My son would kill to have a father like yours, and look what you do with such opportunity. Disgraceful… Berton is probably out in the woods picking mushrooms or some magical dirt,' the woman finished her sentence from the other side of the street and disappeared in the corner in the next second.
Ahrden sat down on the steps leading up to the door, and he wanted to cry. He could hardly count the number of things that were wrong with the situation, but the two that stuck out were how Berton's neighbours thought him to be even a worse user of magic than Melan, and why he had gone to the woods when he had been told that a student was coming over, probably for the first time ever.
Ahrden wanted to boil in his anger until Berton arrived so that he would see how hurt he felt, but that was not how things turned out. No matter how angry, disappointed or frustrated he was, he could not fuel his negative feelings for as long as he had to wait. Ahrden sat there for hours without Berton showing up. After he stopped being angry, he got bored, and soon he became famished. Knowing how his father would look at him if he went home for food without even meeting his teacher, he was determined to wait there as long as he needed to.
It was past noon, and Ahrden was in physical pain from the hunger when Berton finally showed up with a large basket of mushrooms. When he saw Ahrden sitting at his door, he looked surprised.
'Can I help you, young man?'
Ahrden was sure that this day couldn't have turned out to be any worse than it already was, but he was wrong yet again.
'My name is Ahrden, and I was told that you were expecting me today,' Ahrden saw that this didn't clear anything up for the old man, so he continued. 'I chose the mage class, and headmaster Miksten told me that you were going to teach me.'
'Oh, Miksten, you are the son of the general who decided to become a mage; how splendid,' Berton smiled kindly. 'Yes, I did speak with Miksten about your teaching, but he didn't tell me that you were going to come today. I'm sorry, I wouldn't have gone to pick mushrooms if I knew you were coming. Please come inside.'
Once they were inside, he told Ahrden to wait in the living room while he put down the mushrooms in the kitchen. Upon entering the house, Ahrden was immediately amazed at how many books Berton had. The whole purpose of the house seemed to be for storing all these books, which occupied every bit of space in there. The walls were lined with bookshelves that barely managed to hold all the books placed on them. Ahrden had been to the library before and there were much more books there, but it was spread out in a larger area. The confined space here made it look as if all the books in the world had been collected here.
'Oh, I see you like my book collection. Only took a lifetime to gather it, and it was worth it, I can tell you that much,' Berton said as he came in through another door with a few books in his hands. 'Most of these books are about history, philosophy or nature itself, so, unfortunately, only a few will aid you in your quest. This is due to the sad fact that magic fled this world a long time ago, but let's hope that the few books I do have on the subject will help you bring back a little.'
With that, Berton sat down in a large armchair located in the middle of the room and started placing the books he was carrying on the coffee table in front of him, which already was entirely covered in books.
'As I've told you, I was not expecting you today, so all I can do is send you off with a few books to read and learn. Later we'll discuss everything in more detail. Until then, here are a few books that will help you with the basics. This one is about breathing. Sounds simple, but every mage needs to perfect it. Next, here is the extended history of all the magi who lived in the Valley. This one is called 'Basic mage gestures', and the last one is about the history of potions.'
Ahrden took all the books that Berton handed to him while hiding his disappointment regarding the books he was given.
'When are we going to learn about spells and about how to cast them?' Ahrden asked in a shy voice.
'Already wanting to cast spell do we now?' Berton laughed cheerfully. 'There is a long road ahead of you before you can cast a single spell, and it's not even certain that you'll get that far. First, start with these books and come back here next week, same time and we can discuss what you have learnt from them.'
'From all of them?'
'Yes, of course all of them. Don't just pick out the ones you like. Learn them all.'
All of this was very strange for Ahrden, and it was far from what he was expecting. He knew that later he would have time to ask all the questions he had, but there was one he didn't want to leave without knowing.
'Sir can I ask you something?' Ahrden asked.
'I'm no Sir, just call me Berton and of course, ask away.'
'Are you a mage?'
'No, unfortunately, I'm not. I know that you were expecting to be taught by one, but there are no magi left in the Valley. I'm a scholar; I know about magic, its history, its origin. I have read books about spells, incantations, runes, and many other things, which makes me the most qualified to help you on this path, but I cannot control the arcane forces. All I can show is the way, but you have to walk it.'
'Thank you. I'll come back next week,' Ahrden said and walked out while tears filled his eyes.
--
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and months into years in the same manner. The postponed discussion about the fundamentals regarding who Ahrden was and why he chose what he chose never came with Berton. During the first few weeks, Ahrden was really looking forward to telling Berton his passion for the arcane arts, because no one else could understand him. Unfortunately, the old teacher either forgot about it or just wasn't interested in asking Ahrden about him, so after a while, Ahrden gave up on trying to bring the topic up.
It was impossible to keep up with all the reading that was given to him, but Ahrden still kept on receiving new books, so soon, he started storing them in his own room, which quickly turned into his study. Berton told him that the public library also had some interesting books on the subject, so Ahrden started going there too, his visits becoming ever more frequent. Since no one cared about the books he took out, and he got tired of dealing with the librarian's expression whenever he brought back the books about magic, he started storing those books at his study too.
After patiently waiting and giving Berton every opportunity to prove himself wrong regarding what he said about how he would not teach Ahrden how to cast the spells, the old teacher remained true to his words. Berton provided ample material that aided Ahrden, but after time went on, this did not change, and Ahrden had to realize that the most Berton could offer him was these mountains of books. It bothered him greatly, but soon he wrote it off as just another disappointment that came with choosing this class.
The area where Berton could really assist Ahrden in his studies was the theoretical part of the class. Given the nature of magic, this was more than an enormous segment, and Berton proved to be more knowledgeable than Ahrden would have suspected him to be. He knew everything there was to know, although he was unable to perform even the simplest spell. At first, Ahrden was trying to find out how could Berton neglect the actual application of the class, while staying so knowledgeable about the abstract areas, but the old teacher never wanted to talk about it. The most Ahrden could get out of him was that some inner drive was missing from Berton, which prevented him from even trying. Feeling the ever-present burning fire inside himself, Ahrden knew that this was not a problem for him, so he decided not to press the issue further.
In one of the lessons, Berton told Ahrden about Felinda. She was a potion maker in the capital, one of the few who still followed the old ways, and among those ones, she was closer to the arcane arts than any of the others. Many-many years ago, there was a thing between Berton and Felinda, but he made it clear that this was another topic he wished not to talk about. It didn't take long for Ahrden to visit the old potion maker, and after he did, the two became fast friends.
Their friendship swiftly reached the point where Felinda didn't want to accept any money from Ahrden, but he still tried to forced it on her knowing that due to her mysterious ways, she didn't have many customers. Besides potions, she was selling all kinds of other items as well, which all had some ties to magic, that gave the items an evident enhancement. Still, no one wanted to buy these goods, because of the connection that the they had with magic, so they mostly just gathered dust on the shelves. Ahrden found immense joy in rummaging around the items; looking for signs and runes that he could recognize from the books, and buying the best ones he could afford because he was persistent about not accept anything for free.
--
Time went on and a comfortable pattern quickly emerged in Ahrden's life. He spent the overwhelming amount of his time in his study, where he was hunching over books, he got from Berton or took from the library. Along with the books, his collection of items that were in some way traced with magic grew as well, although he had a hard time putting them to any use.
The weekly meetings he had at the school were what they were meant to be: a waste of time, and for that very reason, he had to attend them all. Unable to show any spells that he could cast in the first years, all he did was tell the appointed potion maker what books he was reading.
Ahrden knew that it was going to take him a long time before he would be able to cast the simplest of spells, but he never would have imagined just how much time that really meant when the years started going by. Ahrden looked into how Melan was able to draw that coin to him all those years ago, and he actually sat down with him to talk about his past.
Melan told Ahrden the story of how he ended up choosing the mage class and how he got to learn that spell with the coin. For him it was predetermined to follow in his father's footsteps to become a baker as soon as possible, so no serious class was an option for him. His father made him work at his bakery even before the Choosing, so when the time came, Melan decided to choose the class of mage to skip all the trainings he otherwise would have had to do for any of the other classes. This was an unprecedented thing to do, and the headmaster made an exception with him, allowing him to pick up the profession sooner than the Grand Challenge, but the school made sure that no one could follow in his footsteps.
Now that Melan only needed to work for his father, he had time to practice in his free time. He practiced one spell and one spell only, which he wished to do to be able to demonstrate the slightest of deeds that would resemble the class he chose out of necessity. Over fifteen years of practicing a single spell every day, he was able to call an object, as small as a coin, to him if it had the right rune on it. The fact that it took him fifteen-years scared Ahrden more than he cared to admit it, but he tried to reassure himself that his dedication, his drive and his undivided focus would enable him to achieve that in a much shorter time.
Melan also told Ahrden how he could call that seemingly random coin to him all those years ago, because he indeed needed the right rune to be on the coin to be able to make it obey his will. After he was able to successfully call a small object to him if it had the rune on it, he started carving this miniature rune into the coins, that went through the bakery. At first it was for no particular reason other than to use it for convenience and to impress people. Melan admitted that there were times when he called back a few coins from the hands of costumers who were particularly rude in the shop, but other than that he didn't use it anywhere else. Melan's father even forbid him to use it in the shop to not scare away any costumer with his witchcraft. This is how the sparkling coin Ahrden saw on that faithful night happened to be one with Melan's rune on it and the rest is history.
On rare occasions, William made Ahrden come to the trainings that he held for the elite warrior squad. Understandably, Ahrden didn't participate but had to watch the whole trainings. It was vital for his father that Ahrden had at least some idea what his family was best at. William didn't give up on trying to convince Ahrden to change his mind, but he no longer was as fierce on the subject as before.
Besides attending a few trainings, another obligation that his father forced on Ahrden was taking care of his physical condition. For William, this meant being in the prime state of the body, which was hard to reach and even harder to maintain. Ahrden thought that it was best if he complied in this relatively small matter that his father asked of him, after what he had done to his legacy. So Ahrden went on daily runs, sometimes with his father, but more often alone and trained his body in ways a warrior would. This resulted in him having a lean and muscular body that kept him energized even if he spent the rest of the day sitting in his chair. His father didn't make him use weapons, but they sometimes spared using only their hands which sharpened Ahrden's senses, quickened his reflexes and taught him how to breath in combat.
Rose learnt to live with the situation faster and was even delighted to have his son always be around the house. She didn't force him to help out with the daily chores just because Ahrden was at home, believing that he indeed was doing work in his study. His mother did her best to aid him wherever she could, but she never quite got rid of that hint of sadness that she always carried around.
The sensational news about Ahrden's class slowly died down in the capital, and people started paying less attention to him, but that in no way meant the end of his shunning. No one ever approached him or talked to him in a friendly manner. No one asked him of anything, so he couldn't ask others for anything either. The open hatred dulled down over time, but he was not part of the cultural circles that the city had. His old friends forgot he ever existed, and whenever they met, they did their best to get away from the situation as soon as possible.
Only Sophie, a girl at his year, visited him occasionally and cared about what was going on with him, but only after she made Ahrden promise that they would not talk about magic or anything related to that. Ahrden could tell that she really wanted to get closer to him, but his class kept her at a distance. It was an invisible yet ever-present barrier that she would never be able to concur and deep down, both of them knew this. No matter how much Ahrden wanted to make this work, he knew that this was a battle neither of them could win.
While growing up, it was hard for Ahrden to be surrounded by people who didn't support him. It was challenging to cope with meeting resistance every time he wanted to do something. As an ambitious young boy, this should have toned his enthusiasm down until his spirit became mediocre or worse. But, if anything, he only felt the divine engine within him double in strength. He welcomed the rejections; he treasured them. Deep down, he knew ever more certainly than he will better everyone and everything; the city, the nation, the Valley. He had the most potential to rise, and he would, like no one before him had. He would pass everyone who once thought him lesser and that he knew this for a fact.
Only Berton and Felinda were truly there for him when it came to his class, and between the two of them, Ahrden preferred to spend his time with the potion maker.
Berton was a true scholar, a lifelong student who only cared about knowing more, but lacked the drive to implement his knowledge. Ahrden felt that Berton cared more about the arcane arts than about teaching it to him. Ahrden being the first person who talked to Berton for an extensive amount of time they enjoyed each other's company, but they never got close. Berton never asked anything that didn't have to do with what they were doing, and Ahrden never dared to be the first one to do. Their relationship was somewhat cold and strictly professional.
Felinda, on the other hand, was like a caring grandmother to Ahrden, who sought nothing but the best for him. She dug up old books that had unique spells in them, and when she travelled to the other towns for supplies, she bought everything that had anything to do with magic; knowing that Ahrden would love them. She even taught Ahrden how to make potions, but not the bland background of it or the simple ones that all the student made for their first few years, but rather the ones that were actually valuable and useful for Ahrden. First, they went out to the forest together to gather ingredients, then they later made the potion together with Felinda precisely explaining everything to him. Ahrden learnt almost as much if not more from her than he did from Berton, but by far, this was not the most significant reason he visited her so often. Felinda was the only one to whom he could tell his problems originating from the class he chose. She was always there for him when he needed her, and Ahrden couldn't be thankful enough that she was this caring towards him.
--
The very first spell that Ahrden had learnt was the one he had seen Melan perform all those years ago. This spell wasn't necessarily a spell on its own, but rather a command, to which a certain rune obeyed. The spell was among the easiest to master, yet it took Ahrden years to make the object even slightly move.
As time went on, Ahrden became more and more proficient with the spell, and soon he was able to call any small object to himself that had the rune etched into its surface. The achievement was grant on its own and only the first in the long journey that he was on, but comparatively, if one took into account all the other classes, Ahrden was nowhere compared to them. After years of studying, dedication, and hard work, all he could achieve was to call back a smaller object to himself, after he first tempered with the item, but not much else.
Not letting up with the intense studying and practicing, Ahrden thought of utilising this one spell in different ways. Oddly he found no written material about this subject, but after putting much time and effort into it along with going through a multitude of failed trials, he finally arrived to something he believed would be useful.
After using all of his own money that he had earned throughout the years, Ahrden made a deal with a blacksmith who knew his father well, to make him what he wanted at a reasonably low price. Ahrden asked for small blades that were similar to throwing blade, but it lacked the handle part of it, so it only consisted of the blade part. He asked some of it to be pierced at the end so he could put a leather strap in it and hang it up the rest he just asked to be as they were. After he got the small blades, he spent countless hours carefully etching the well-practised runes into them and eventually, he got to try them out.
After tossing the runed blades away or dropping them to the ground and walking away from them, he could call them to himself, and they all eagerly flew to him with immense speed and power. Ahrden tested their strength by standing behind a tree and seeing how far they dug into it. He tested the distance from where he could still make the blades obey him, and finally, he made sure that he could stop them in front of him before they would do any harm to him.
Ahrden was amazed at how well this new weapon of his turned out to be and how many ways this could be utilised on the battlefield. At the moment, he couldn't even imagine using it against another person, knowing just how deadly these blades could be. Still, Ahrden was not naïve, and he knew that the day would come when bloodshed and violence will not evade him any longer. If that day came now, he at least had something to defend himself with.
--
Ahrden could not wrap his head around how the power-level of certain spells worked and how skilful one needed to be to cast a certain spell. In the beginning, all seemed in order, but based on his progression, he felt it to be too soon when the beginner book he was studying suggested that he learned the teleportation spell.
Ahrden didn't feel ready to perform a spell as complicated and intricate as the teleportation, not to mention that a failed attempt seemed deadly. He was unsure why the book would suggest that he learn it among other much less complicated spells. Since Ahrden didn't feel adequate to question the method and he wasn't brave enough to ask Berton about it, who strictly made him study the theoretical aspect of the spells, Ahrden decided to learn how to teleport.
Months went by without once feeding arcane into the spell when Ahrden finally felt ready to try the spell out. He took every precaution he could; he read extensively on the subject in many different books and journals of various magi and took way more time than they did to practice the spell. Ahrden didn't feel bad about progressing slowly because none of the journals failed to mention the tremendous aid that a mage teacher was in the students' improvement. Ahrden had no one to show him the ropes, only the books.
When the day finally came, he went out into the forest and meditated for an hour to prepare for what awaited him. He had been nervous before, but this was a different kind of feeling. This was the first life or death feeling he had ever had, and the scariest part about it was that he was the literal source of the threat.
Ahrden didn't bring the tome, having memorised every detail of the spell, so when he felt ready, he just stood up. Focusing on the spot right in front of him, he concentrated. He lowered himself into a casting stance and begun the carefully practised motions along with the incantation. The book elaborated how much shorter the casting of the spell will become once he had fully mastered it, but for now, it took some time to complete. When he did, bright blue lights started flickering all around his body, and like fire, they started spreading fast in all directions. As the blue fire spread, the edges were bright and swift and what remained behind was a softer blue hue that lingered on Ahrden's body. Once his entire body was covered in this pale blue arcane layer, everything happened instantly. He dematerialised and then reappeared again on the spot he had chosen to teleport to.
When Ahrden arrived, he fell on both knees and panted heavily from the physical and psychological strain. After moments of disorientation, he felt his stomach turn and before he could even check his surroundings he threw up. The spell itself got so much attention in the books and journals yet this side effect was not once mentioned so Ahrden couldn't prepare for it. Once he got rid of his breakfast he straightened up and looked around.
He did it.
The spell wasn't only a great success but it was also a significant improvement from what he had been able to cast so far and this feeling of achievement intoxicated him.
Despite all the hardships that Ahrden had suffered after choosing this class, he had never wavered in his devotion towards the arcane arts. Once he learned how to teleport, this fidelity strengthened into a lifelong devotion that was so divine no earthly force could derail him from it.
--
Ahrden cherished his lifestyle, but on some occasions, it did raise some questions in him. It was easy to follow a path that everyone took, which made him question every step he made on the one he walked alone. He spent most of his time in his cosy study, alone, reading old tomes and ancient scrolls. Deciphering some was a real challenge on its own, but using that knowledge was an even harder task, so he moved through the mountain of carefully collected information sluggishly.
Most of the time, there was no feedback on what he was doing; it took him years to cast a single spell, and although the process did speed up afterwards, not right away. Berton did guide him towards things that he could later show him, but for a very long time, these spells occurred rarely, and it took Ahrden quite some time to learn to cast them. Other than what Berton taught him, Ahrden learned other things on his own even though Berton advised him not to. Ahrden decided to keep the spells, runes and incantations from Berton, which meant that he couldn't show it to anybody because there wasn't anyone who could judge his achievement or even anyone willing to witness it. Felinda was the only other option he had, but her fear towards Ahrden's safety made her agree with Berton that Ahrden should not practice magic on his own. The denials from the ones he could trust on this journey were the greatest, yet these too served only to further empower his inner divine fire.
Practising magic in combat was another thing which, he couldn't do unfortunately since there wasn't anybody who would be able or was willing to practice with him, not that he was keen to ask anyone. His outcast status did not change over the years, and he didn't want to burden anyone to be associated with him, so he deliberately learnt to distance himself from everyone. The worst part about it all was that he was becoming numb to it all. He dreamed that someday he would make his parents proud and that his father would finally see that all the time he spent in the library didn't go to waste, but that day seemed to only drift further from him.
Most of the time, Ahrden was just sitting alone at his desk, memorizing incantations, hand movements, and gestures while focusing on gathering more and more arcane energy with increasing efficiency. He'd have liked to participate in the activities which the others at his age were doing, but he chose a path of solitude. He knew that road he decided to take would be a lonely one, but he wouldn't have chosen otherwise even if he knew just how lonely it indeed was. He still wished that there was something to be done about it.
The lack of confirmation that what he was doing was not in vain was what he missed from his life the most. There were times when he felt that there was no purpose to his life and that he walked a path alone that remained unchosen for a good reason.
After Ahrden had crossed the invisible threshold and he actually started making progress as he practised, he felt a renewed sense of energy surging through him. That has not abated since, but he wasn't feeling this excitement to be enough anymore. He witnessed the improvements that he was making day after day, but he couldn't put a reason behind them. While the others were preparing to defend the city or attack another nation, Ahrden worked to become more powerful, knowing that no one would take him under his command. What he was capable of was something that even his own nation wished not to see by their side. What he was working for had ultimately no purpose as it didn't fit into the bigger picture. Ahrden felt that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to achieve the things that others could because of the class he pursued. This saddened him greatly, yet it wasn't enough to remove him from the path he was on. No matter what, he was determined to see what lay at the end of it all, even if that meant that there were times when he felt defeated by life itself.
Ahrden often found himself sitting at his desk, flicking through the pages of a book he was reading, unable to focus on the words which were supposed to teach him something, because his mind had travelled to other topics. During these times so many hostile thoughts were in his head, that he felt unable to concentrate on what was in front of him. He thought he was prepared for the hardships that would come with this path, and although he was prepared to take on the world on his own, he didn't expect that he would also have to fight his own thoughts along the way.