Months passed. Arthur and Wis sparred every morning, their movements like a silent dance. Every match ended in a draw because Wis always surrendered before the end. Arthur knew it was only an excuse. He could see in Wis's calm eyes that the boy was far stronger than he let on. But Arthur let him be. Even in defeat he learned something from their matches.
Arthur often asked Wis for advice on tactics, and Wis asked Arthur about magic. One evening, Wis returned home after training, his mind still full of questions.
Days later, thanks to his talent, Wis learned magic. He could feel power stirring inside him but could not tell what kind it was.
"How do I know what kind of magic I have?" Wis asked Arthur while they sat by the river.
Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. "Close your eyes. Be still. You will feel it in your soul."
Wis obeyed. He closed his eyes and reached inward. What he felt shocked him. Time itself pulsed under his skin like a heartbeat.
He opened his eyes quickly. He could not let anyone know. If people learned he had such a power, they would fear him. They would hunt him. They would target his family.
In secret, he explored deeper and found that he carried more than one kind of magic. The choices glimmered inside him like stars. He decided to hide them all and chose fire as his public skill.
"I have fire," Wis said aloud.
Arthur nodded. "That is a strong element. Many warriors respect it."
Wis asked, "How many types of magic can a normal human hold?"
Arthur thought for a moment. "Most only have one. A talented person can have two. I once heard of a man with four, but he lived four hundred years ago. He is long gone now."
Wis remained silent, keeping his secret.
That afternoon they sparred again. Arthur's strikes grew sharper. Wis flowed like water, never fully showing his true strength.
When the match ended, Wis returned home.
The smell of fresh bread welcomed him at the door. His mother Anna wiped her hands on her apron. "You are back late today."
"I was training," Wis said softly.
Michael, his father, looked up from carving wood. "Our son trains harder than a knight. Soon you will surpass me."
Anna smiled warmly. "You should rest. Dinner is almost ready."
They ate together, sharing small jokes about the village, the weather, and Michael's clumsy carpentry attempts. Wis laughed with them. For a moment, the world outside felt far away.
Days later, Wis went to check on Arthur. He found him packing supplies. Arthur's face was set like stone.
"You are returning to your old town?" Wis asked.
Arthur nodded. "Yes. There are things I must do there."
Wis looked into his eyes. "You want revenge, don't you?"
Arthur hesitated but saw no judgment in Wis's gaze. He exhaled slowly. "I suppose I owe you the truth."
They sat beneath an old tree while Arthur spoke. His voice was low and heavy.
"There was a man. My closest friend. We shared everything. He was like a brother. But he began to grow cold. When I asked him what was wrong, he said nothing. I knew he was hiding something.
"One night I was attacked. I barely survived. When I woke, I went looking for my friend, worried for him. I searched everywhere but found nothing.
"A few days later, I saw him with my fiancée. They were speaking in whispers. She looked terrified. When I approached, he walked away without a word.
"That night a group of masked men surrounded me. I fought, but I was outnumbered. One of them stepped forward and removed his mask. It was my friend.
"He said my family had killed his father and mother, that I had everything while he had nothing, that he had never truly been my friend. He despised me. Then he dragged my fiancée before me and killed her right there.
"I lost myself. I tried to fight but I was too weak. I escaped with my life but lost everything."
Arthur's hands trembled. "That is why I must return. Not for revenge alone. I must know why it came to this."
Wis wanted to speak, to offer help, but something in his heart held him back. If he became involved, his family might be dragged into a storm they could not survive.
He only said, "Be careful, Arthur."
Arthur nodded silently and walked away.
That evening, Wis returned home.
Anna was stirring a pot over the fire. Michael sat nearby, repairing a fishing net. The small house was warm and smelled of herbs.
"You look tired," Anna said. "Come, sit. Tell me about your day."
Wis smiled faintly and sat at the table. "It was the same as always. Training. Fishing. Talking with Arthur."
Michael chuckled. "Arthur must be a good man if you spend so much time with him."
Wis lowered his gaze. "He is. But he has troubles."
Anna placed a hand on his. "Everyone carries troubles, Wis. What matters is how we face them."