The long, empty hallway leading to his and the others’ quarters echoed to his footsteps. The setting sun’s last rays reflected off the windows, blinding him momentarily as he passed by.

  The prisoner’s words rang clear in his mind. He claimed to be chosen by the old gods, he claimed Instructor Caarda’s efforts would fail. He claimed his mission was going to succeed. He claimed many things. It wasn’t an act either – it was clear in his voice. He believed his own words.

  He paused the hallway opened up into a large chamber. There were several, narrower hallways leaving the chamber on the other side. The one in the middle led to his and Alistair’s chambers, the one on the left led to Arwen and Willows’, and the one on the right led to the quarters of the instructors.

  The crackling sounds of the lit fireplace broke the silence. Flames danced, creating oddly shaped shadows on the walls. His gaze turned couch by the fireplace. On the soft cushions sat Arwen, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames, and her hands clenching her staff.

  Instead of her dress uniform, she was wearing loose, dark green leggings with a brown, leather belt. There was a small, green gem on her faded gold coloured belt buckle. A holding gem, Midhir assumed, as she lacked her usual jewellery. She noticed as he approached, fixing the shoulders of her white blouse as he circled around the couch and sat on the other end of it.

  “Ending the day early?” He asked, pointing in her general direction.

  She nodded, gently putting the staff on the other couch cushion. “I’m rather exhausted.” She admitted.

  It was obvious now that he could see her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks were slightly red, and her hair seemed a little wet, like she had been out in the rain.

  “You look well.” She averted her gaze. “Better than you did yesterday.” She bit her lower lip. Lost in thought, she peered into the distance.

  “Thanks?” he raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Arwen? You’re not just exhausted.” Something was clearly on her mind. Was it students acting oddly? People where they shouldn’t be, perhaps…

  “We had resonance casting training today.” She opened her palms, staring at her hands as she spoke. “It wasn’t anything like what we were taught at Solus.”

  Midhir raised his eyebrows. “One of the honour guards taught you?”

  Arwen nodded. “She was so fast, I could hardly sense her resonances before they activated.” She clenched her fists. “She said what we knew was useless in battle. That Solus hadn’t been doing us any favours by teaching what we know. That we were wasteful with spiritual power.” She seemed to become more distraught with every word. “I know we’re not as skilled as her but…” she shook her head, her voice fading.

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  “She’s one of the honour guards. The best Eldoria has to offer.” Midhir let out a sigh. “And she’s not entirely wrong. All of you use a lot of spiritual power to cast your resonances.”

  Arwen’s gaze shot up. “Spiritual power isn’t some limited resource!” She objected with a sharp voice. “You’d need-“ she stopped with a scowl. “A lot of powerful crystals…”

  “Like the defensive pylons lining the northern border.” Midhir completed her thought for her. “Or two armies, full of resonance casters clashing.” He smiled. “You’re already aware that the spiritual power around Derwen Hold and the Northern Wall is stifled – dozens of human-sized crystals does that to their surroundings, not to mention the many soldiers all posted in and around this place.” Not to mention the Ring of Stone – though she didn’t need to know that.

  “She told us to work on using as little power as possible to achieve the same result.” Arwen fiddled with her hair. “It’s difficult.”

  Of course it was – especially for someone who could manipulate the spiritual power around her so easily. Using an augment, casting a resonance, these were simple things for her. She never needed to actually learn how exactly the power around her resonated with her own, and how much she really needed to achieve the same result.

  “But did you notice?” Her voice came alive as her eyes glimmered with the excitement of discovery. “It’s different today. It’s not quite so stifled, and it keeps getting better and better. It’s almost as if the world is healing from some grave wound.”

  Of course she had noticed. “Is that so?” He asked, blinking once. His expression was empty aside from a hint of confusion. “One of the pylons must be inactive then.” He muttered.

  “You didn’t notice?” Her disappointment was palpable. “How? I know you can sense the power around you, even if you have trouble using it.”

  That was quite the understatement. “I’ve not paid any attention.” He breathed out. “As for what the resonance caster from the honour guard told you – they are trained especially for battle. For large scale conflicts. The kind we hopefully never see in our lifetimes.” It felt like a slim hope. “Pay attention to her words, but don’t take them as gospel. Just make sure you can do what she asks of you. If there is ever the need for it, you should be able to.”

  He pushed himself back up on his feet. “I’ll be in my quarters.”

  His boots clicked on the stone slabs as he walked away. He was well aware of how much more spiritual power was all around them now. He could breathe. The relief he felt from it was palpable. It felt as if his mind had been clouded since he arrived, and that cloud was only lifting now – and just a little bit.

  It was a frightening sensation. He gently touched his left eyelid. Since this morning, he was also much more aware of it. The Old God was still here. Sure, Circe had stopped him from seeing the beyond, but she couldn’t sever whatever connection this was.

  He closed the door behind him and sat on his bed as he pondered. She said there was no way to fully prevent the influence of the Old Gods. She told him that he had one year at most. “Maybe she’s wrong…” he whispered.

  After all, she didn’t know about the Ring of Stone.