“Tell me a story about when you were in the war,” Max said cheerfully. “How about when you first joined the army, what was that like?”

“I don’t feel like talking about that,” Ivan replied gruffly. Max’s disappointed sigh could be heard nearly a mile away.

“What about how you and Theodor met? You served with him, didn’t you?” Ivan glanced back at him as he spoke. “How did you two become friends?” Max continued, hoping Ivan would break and divulge something about his past.

Ivan paused for a moment, struggling to find words. He began to speak, slowly at first, and faster as the story flowed out.

“Theodor, Anders’ uncle, and I… were from different towns in Southland. Back in those days, the King’s army sent recruiting officers to get young men to sign up and join them. When they came to each town, the recruiters would set up obstacle courses in the town square and hold contests. As one can imagine, each contest was physically demanding and catered toward those who were the strongest and fastest. I won most of the competitions each time they came to my town. Ever since I was old enough to think for myself, I wanted to be soldier. When I became of age, I didn’t even blink twice before signing up for the King’s army.

“All of the recruits within Southland went to the same training camp. After six weeks of training, the recruits were assigned to divisions. Most people were placed into the infantry or cavalry, as more bodies are needed at the front lines during a war. Numbers were typically what won wars back then.

“Theodor and I were sent to the same camp and were both placed in bunkhouse thirteen, which became our training squad. During our first week of training, it became clear that I was going to be our squad’s leader. Theodor, however, needed some encouragement and drive to do what was expected of a new recruit. You see, he was underperforming and didn’t take the training very seriously. I was very committed to my role as our squad’s leader and began to help Theodor. When you have to rely on each other in a setting like that, you are only as good as your weakest person.

“Theodor told me briefly after meeting that he was forced to join the army by his father, who would strip him of his family rights if he didn’t do his part for the war effort. He didn’t want to dishonor his family name, so he joined reluctantly.

“Looking back on it now, I was a little harsh with him at first. We spent extra time in the mornings and evenings going through the drills. I helped him find his role in our group and after several weeks his improvements were leaps and bounds above any other person at the training facilities. We became quite close during those six weeks,” Ivan paused for a while, looking up at the sky.

With a long exhale he continued, “Once our squad’s training was complete, we were assigned and placed into our new roles. Theodor and I were posted to different divisions and didn’t see much of each other for a long time after that.”

“I thought you two served together during the war?” Max interrupted.

“We did serve together when the war reached its peak. But after training camp, we both went our separate ways for several years before our paths crossed again,” Ivan said succinctly.

Ivan quickened his pace to put some distance between himself and the others and walked in silence, clearly not wanting to say anymore. Anders wondered if there was something Ivan wasn’t telling them, and he wanted to know, he deserved to know.

“Please continue,” Anders urged Ivan as he jogged to catch up with him.

Anders could tell Ivan didn’t want to continue but knew Anders wouldn’t let him end where he’d attempted to, so begrudgingly he picked up where he’d left off.

“Theodor was placed in the cavalry as a marksman. He had a special talent with his bow that not many could rival. I was sent off to an officers’ training program to further my role as a leader,” Ivan stopped at a small stream flowing across the trail. “Red,” he hollered at the Rollo warrior who was walking with his men several yards in front of them. “Let’s hold up here for a moment,” Ivan commanded.

Max and Anders took this opportunity to sit and rest their feet. Ivan stopped and drank from the stream.

“Theodor never talked about his time during The War of the Magicians,” Anders said. “Thank you for talking about it with us. It seems there’s a lot about my uncle that I didn’t know.”

Anders felt Ivan was holding something back and wasn’t telling him everything about his uncle’s part of the story, but reading the current situation, he knew now was not the time to ask. If he did and wasn’t sensible about it, Ivan might clam up and never talk about his uncle with him again. Anders had the over-whelming feeling that Ivan knew things about his family that could help him discover where he came from, perhaps even who his parents were.

“We have about two more hours of daylight; we should consider making camp soon,” Red said to the group.

“There’s a place coming up where I’ve camped many times before,” Max said.

“We will camp there,” Ivan said, speaking as if Max’s idea were his own.

Max rolled his eyes and sat next to Anders on the side of the trail. Whispering, he asked, “Did you get the feeling he wasn’t telling us the whole story?”

Anders nodded and replied, “He’s hiding something all right.”

Once they’d set up camp, Anders and the four others set out in search of firewood while Ivan went hunting for their dinner. By the time they returned with armloads of sticks and sizeable broken branches, Ivan was already preparing a small deer he’d killed. Anders noticed that the deer didn’t have any arrow wound like he’d seen in the deer he’d hunted. The deer was definitely dead; Ivan had already begun slicing off pieces of meat for their meal.

Anders and the others sorted the wood they’d gathered into piles according to size and diameter.

“The key to preparing a good fire is first to have four different-sized wood piles ready when you go to light it,” Red said as if he were showing them how to build a fire for the first time. “First you need two large handfuls of straw-sized twigs, then a bundle of finger-sized wood. Next, a bundle slightly larger in diameter goes on the fire. And finally, once that’s burned and you have your bed of coals, put on your larger logs.” He demonstrated by lighting some dry grass and placing the bundles on one at a time as he spoke.

Anders leaned over to Max and whispered, “I’m not a child. I know how to build a fire.” They both rolled their eyes and tried to ignore Red’s arrogant demonstration.

“Or,” Ivan said. “You can do this.” He pointed to a log that was not on the fire and whispered to himself. The log burst into flames and he chuckled.

“Not all of us are magicians,” Red said angrily.

“Thank the gods for that,” Ivan said in response. “That is the last thing this world needs, more sorcerers to mess up what the natural world already provides. And only non-magical people call us magicians; the proper term is sorcerer.”

Anders thought it was strange that he had that kind of outlook on magic, seeing as he was someone who could wield it.

“I see the magician has regained his strength,” Red said mockingly.

Ivan shot him a deadly glare that made Red turn away from him and continue to put wood on the fire. Ivan went back to preparing the meat for the six of them. Soon all of them had bellies full of fresh venison. They washed it down with the crisp cold water gathered from a nearby creek. Exhausted from the day’s travel, they were all sound asleep before long.

The next day they walked across the base of the Sharpstone Mountain Range. Anders hiked at a distance from the others using the time alone to ponder during their trek. He was angry with Red for not seeing that the storm they sailed into was a trap and Ivan for not stopping it, but mostly he missed his cousins. They were like brother and sister to him. Anders controlled his anger by keeping his thoughts to himself and staying away from the others while he fumed in solitude.

He also used this time to think about Theodor and Ivan’s shared history. He wanted to know if Ivan was born with the ability to use magic or if he became magical through some kind of transformative process. Anders could tell there was more to what Ivan told him about his relationship with Theodor and considered asking him about it. Before he did, Anders remembered that Ivan told him there was a time and a place where he would tell Anders everything, besides Anders was still irritated with Ivan, so he decided to wait.

Anders found it difficult to trust Ivan because he didn’t know much about him, but it did seem as though Ivan was doing everything in his power to help as he had agreed on the ship. Anders found himself realizing that he only really trusted Max, who had never given him any reason not to.

Ivan had them set up camp that night in the center of a long narrow valley. He wanted Anders to accompany him while he hunted for their supper, so Anders agreed and brought along his bow and three arrows. They hadn’t been gone long before a thick fog surrounded them. It wafted through the air and blanketed the two so they couldn’t see much farther than their immediate surroundings. Ivan told Anders not to worry about getting lost as long as he stayed close to him, because he could sense where camp and the others were.

The setting sun could only be seen as a bright orange circle through the fog. It dropped steadily lower, nearing the horizon. Ivan had killed three rabbits with his mind, snapping their necks as they tried to escape. It was getting dark when he suggested they head back to camp.

Anders bent down to pick up the last dead rabbit. As he scooped it into his hand, he thought he saw a person standing in front of him through the fog. When he looked closer, it was gone. Anders got Ivan’s attention by making a ‘psst’ noise.

“I think I saw someone in the fog just now,” he said.

“That’s strange,” concern flooded Ivan’s voice. “I don’t sense anyone.”

The two of them peered intently toward where Anders had seen something or someone. Then Anders saw the dark shape again, this time moving. It slunk low to the ground and darted from behind a boulder to a nearby tree.

“There!” Anders said, pointing to the shadowy figure as it moved across the misty foreground.

Ivan shot a burst of energy from his hand toward it. Anders saw chunks of bark blow off the tree and knew he’d missed. Anders drew his bow and aimed toward the tree where he’d last seen the figure. He moved closer toward it, arrow nocked and ready to fire. The shadowy figure bolted as soon as Anders drew near. He let his arrow fly; shooting in the direction he saw it fleeing. There was a screech and he knew he’d hit it.

The two of them approached the figure with caution. Anders had struck it right in the side, mid-ribcage. Getting a good look at it, he didn’t know what kind of creature it was. He’d never seen anything like it. It had two arms and legs in the same way humans do, but its skin was dark green in color and the creature had wiry gray hairs covering most of its body.

“What is that?” Anders asked curling his upper lip in distaste.

Ivan knelt down beside it and began searching its pockets for anything of value. “It’s a goblin,” Ivan said. “My guess is it’s a scout, probably one of a group of scouts. There will be more, lots more. Goblins travel in hordes and move quickly. We need to go.”

He paused at the sound of light footsteps trotting up behind them. Ivan turned and to see another goblin and swiftly shot his hand out, snapping its neck with an accurately placed flow of energy.

“We need to get back to the others,” Ivan said. “The only reason we’re not already dead is because of this fog.”