Torrid flames engulfed the forest clearing, scattering their ignited embers that pranced with spinning cycles of wind, knocking back thieves and rogue mages alike in roaring explosions, etching shadows into the earth. With a flick of his wrist and a leg stretched behind him, that insufferable fireboy expelled a howling stream of flames that consumed any who got too close to him.

Kliff Dresden was the kind of mage who required no external validation or support; his unmatched prowess and formidable skills ensured he stood alone in his power. Custas had witnessed Kliff's extraordinary capabilities firsthand—not just in the confines of their lessons, where spells were practiced and theory dissected, but more vividly, like when Todd and his gang of sulmos plotted to "ambush" them at Lakestone.

In the realm of sorcery, Kliff was often spoken of in hushed tones of reverence, regarded as a prodigy destined for greatness. Whispers of his potential echoed through the halls of their academy, with many believing that he would undoubtedly rise to become a Professional Sorcerer. As he continued to hone his skills, it seemed inevitable that Kliff would ascend to the ranks of legends, carving out a legacy that would etch his name among the greatest sorcerers Incante had ever known.

Now, Custas wasn't as easily blind-sighted as most others. He had seen enough to understand the illusions that ambition could cast, and while he harbored doubts about that brash fireboy's prospects at Glyph Academy, he could recognize a spark of potential when he encountered it. It seemed almost absurd, but there was no denying that Kliff possessed an extraordinary gift for magic. Despite his upbringing as a gold-blooded noble, one could hardly overlook the fierce determination and raw talent that surged within him, setting him apart from the crowd. Even in his currently diminished condition, Kliff stood out as more than a match for most of the men present.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Custas spotted Kliff whip around in a motion as free-flowing as water, thrusting his arm over his chest and lashing it out before him, a spell launching out of his mouth as monstrous flames collided with three sorry sulmos who had gotten too close for their own good. Men in burned clothing dropped to the ground one after the other, their wands or weapons lost from their grips and their pale-eyed expressions kissing the dirt at Kliff's feet. Just under the first three minutes since the fighting had started, Kliff had already defeated a quarter of Serpent Fang's forces without the need to rely on his more advanced spells. Honestly! Why were assholes like him always so damn lucky?!

However, that wasn't to suggest that Kliff was invulnerable. Custas observed closely the way the idiot moved, noting the subtle signs of weariness etched across his features. Fatigue gleamed in his tired eyes, which seemed to sink deeper into their sockets while the dense rhythm of his breathing accompanied every movement he made—labored and uneven—as if dragging an invisible weight with him. Sweat cascaded down his unkempt face, smothered with dirt and grime.

Kliff could hold his own in a fight, but not even he was immune to the effects of enervation. From what Custas could gather, Kliff had already endured several grueling duels with some of the other members of Serpent Fang before this, each encounter leaving its mark on him. The sheer fact that he could still stand upright, let alone prepare for yet another confrontation in such a short span of time, baffled Custas. The fire mage was simply a puzzle he couldn't quite piece together.

Fortunately, for his sake, he had Elaine by his side. She stood resolutely, her rippling, golden hair catching the sun as she invoked her Light Magic. Despite her vocal objections about using magic for harm, her actions spoke volumes; she held her own remarkably well. Each time a projectile hurtled toward them, Elaine raised her Common Wand, casting shimmering barriers that refracted the incoming threats, deflecting them harmlessly away, the air around her sparkling with radiant energy.

In stark contrast, Kyro positioned himself just a few meters in front of Elaine. As a wind mage, he exuded an air of calm concentration. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand as he focused intently, narrowing his gaze to pinpoint accuracy. With a fluid flick of his wrist, he released small, spherical bursts of compressed air from his wand. These projectiles zipped at her with terrifying speeds, invisible to anyone lacking a trained eye.

The sheer force of his magic was breathtaking, and it was this very talent that had earned him a fearsome reputation within the Syndicate. Most opponents fell before they even realized they'd been struck, their bewilderment ultimately turning to defeat within mere seconds after their sights caught the end of Kyro's wand. Custas had always admired Kyro's precision, recognizing the blend of skill and raw power that made him a formidable ally in the past. As an adversary, though, he'd prove to be more than a nuisance.

The currents in the air shifted again, and before Custas could think, he felt his body carry him in a giant leap to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast of poisonous magic streaking past him like a purple-colored lightning bolt. "Have you really the time to be worrying about your pals over there?!" Vang shouted to him, his wand raised at shoulder height, his dark, spiky hair blowing with the wind. "To think you'd stoop so low as to team up with nobles! You're the biggest disgrace to the Serpent Fang Syndicate! I'll see you take your final breath today!"

Custas chuckled as Vang discharged more blasts of magic at him in rapid succession. Twirling the wand in his hand, Custas called, "Wind Magic: Venti Entes!" At his command, a volley of wind propelled past him as a typhoon, picking up the rocks and debris of the earth and slamming into Vang with such force the man could only remain standing on his feet for a few moments before being whisked away by the wind. Custas watched as he was knocked back several meters, crashing into the ground in a cloud of dust.

His fist trembling with excitement and trepidation, Custas gazed intently at his Commoner Wand, glimmering with rabid intensity, feeling almost alive in his grip. As he stood there, he couldn't help but reflect on the trials he had endured at Glyph Academy, for within those sprawling halls, the relentless pursuit of magical evolution was not just encouraged; it was a matter of survival. Students there swiftly learned that without talent and grit to harness their Gifts, they would be unceremoniously expelled.

Now, as his eyes traced the glimmering surface of his wand, Custas could only marvel at his growth. He pondered the countless hours he had spent pouring over ancient texts, practicing incantations until his voice grew hoarse and sparring with his fellow classmates, their laughter and curses mingling with the crackle of magic from his wand. How far had he come since he first stepped through the towering doors of the academy, a mere, pathetic lowborn thief overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all?

Vang staggered as he climbed to one knee, pointed canines forming the venomous smile between his lips. "Looks like they taught you some new tricks after all," he sniggered. "But you ain't fooling me. I know who you are!" he shouted, taking aim with his wand again, his clothing fluttering around his person from the pressure of the spells flying away. "People rarely change even after they've lived lifetimes! You think a couple of months did you any favor?"

At the same time, Custas hopped off the ground, swiftly shouting, "Wind Magic: Venti Latus!" and at his command, the winds responded with a kind of obedience that felt almost sentient, whirling around his boots and ankles like unseen, coiling whirlpools. With a sudden burst of speed, the gusts thrust him forward, their relentless force propelling him through the air with an exhilarating rush, tears flying uncontrollably out the sides of Custas's stinging eyes as his dark hair fluttered wildly atop his head. Within a blink, he was launched several meters away from where he once stood, the ground beneath him becoming a mere blur as he sailed through the flowing embrace of the atmosphere.

Wind Magic was far more than just a tool for casting spells; it embodied the very essence of freedom and fluidity that Custas had come to revere. While many practitioners leaned toward its offensive capabilities, Custas understood its true purpose lay in the art of movement and liberation. He often envisioned soaring through the skies, personifying the agility and grace of a griffin. For in those moments when he invoked Wind Magic, he felt an exhilarating rush as if he were momentarily unshackled from the constraints of the world below. The winds would wrap around him like a gentle embrace, lifting him higher and higher, allowing him to glide effortlessly among the sun-soaked clouds.

For Custas, every flicker of the wind reminded him of the unrestrained possibilities that lay beyond the horizon. Even if it was just for the briefest moments, he could savor the taste of true freedom, feeling as though the very sky was his to conquer. Wind Magic was not merely a means to an end; it was a celebration of existence itself, a dance with the elements that ignited his passion and fueled his dreams for a better tomorrow.

In the middle of a forest clearing where the winds would not stagger against tree branches or shrubbery, Custas could use his magic to its fullest potential, and with another leap, Custas permitted the winds to carry him over the ground in the direction he saw fit. With a snicker spreading over his lips, Custas swirled, dashed, and lunged through the wind currents like a falcon in pursuit, blowing past every projectile his enemy sent his way. Soaring, Custas enclosed Vang in a ring, his taunting grin growing wider each time he spun around Vang, the rogue sorcerer cursing as he struggled to meet his mark.

"Bold of you to call me a traitor after everything you've done. I was just taking a stab in the dark earlier, trying to buy time for Serpens to get here. I wasn't actually being serious, but, man, looks like I hit the nail on the head," Custas snickered, easily zipping past another flying bolt of poison. "You really did betray Douglas, didn't you? And I suppose that means you want to get rid of me yourself before your dulbrained followers catch on. Though, you'll have a hard time explaining this to Kyro. That guy's as sharp as a runesword."

With his canines crushed together in a scowl, Vang whirled around with one massive stomp, whipping his arm across his body and firing his attack spell at Custas; had he been two seconds faster, perhaps he might have actually struck him that time. "Everything I've done was necessary for the future of the Serpent Fang Syndicate!" he bellowed stubbornly. "I wouldn't expect a turncoat like you to understand!"

"Turncoat? How do you figure?" Custas questioned, landing a sizeable distance behind him, though he wasn't so far away where the dark grimace cloaking Vang's face was any less visible. "I left only after you guys abandoned me. I figured that if I returned, nothing would change. How much longer would it be before you left me to fend for myself in a street surrounded by State Sorcerers or blood-thirsty rogue sorcerers?"

"There he is, the pitiable Custas the Coward," Vang chastized, spitting on the ground as he did. "Told you, you haven't changed! You're still that scared little pissant, too afraid to fight for himself!"

"Cowardice and caution are two different things, dumbass," Custas retorted with a sharp tone, his voice rising with indignation. "Besides, I might not be too keen on fighting myself, but I would never go so far as to sell out some of the only people who gave me a chance at a better life. All of you were asshole scumbags who didn't give a shit about me, but you let me eat, gave me a bed to sleep with a roof over my head, dangled the promise of riches and fortune like I was some malnourished street dog. Serpent Fang was a real hellhole, but I'd much rather take my chances with you guys than go to bed at night starving in that unforgiving Capital. For that, you kept my respect, and even if I were to be confronted by a State Sorcerer, betraying you would never cross my mind."

"Oh, how splendid!" Vang exclaimed with false appreciation, holding his arms out to the side. "Are you expecting me to wallow in tears and offer you your spot back?"

"Nah, I've got my own thing going on right now. It's tough, and the company is a bit much at times, but I think I'll stick with Glyph Academy for a little while longer," Custas admitted with a light chuckle. "Besides, with you at the helm of the organization, we'd be doomed for ruin."

"Sunder you!" Vang snarled. With a swift motion, Custas raised his wand overhead, channeling his focus into the tip as he conjured a shimmering barrier. Almost immediately, a surge of purple-colored energy collided with it, the barrier flickering violently before shattering into countless fragments like glass shards in the air. "It wasn't an easy decision to make! I loved Douglas like a brother. I was one of his elite mages!"

"You were nothing but his obedient lapdog who did everything he told you without a whimper," Custas slung back at him.

"I watched him lead the Syndicate for many years. He was a great man, a great mage. But even I could see that it wouldn't last forever. The direction he was steering us toward would have led to all of us shackled in chains. I had to act! It had to be me! I couldn't afford to wait any longer!" Vang shouted, drumming his free hand on his chest. "I realized the only way to save the Serpent Fang Syndicate...was to destroy it. And from its ashes create a true legion of unstoppable rogue sorcerers."

Custas pinched his brows together with distaste. "You backstabbed them all."

"I hadn't a choice! What did you expect me to do? Stand around and watch as Douglas crushed all of our fates? Demolished everything we sacrificed? No. No! I have little patience for such nonsense! I wouldn't let things end so pathetically, so I did what I had to do. I called the Arcanum." Vang's forked tongue glided smoothly across his wide, grinning lips as he leaned forward slightly, a low, rumbling laughter bubbling up from deep within him. "It wasn't easy, and a piece of me doubted that they would trust the map to our main base that I'd sent them, as well as the blueprints of its structure. But not only did they come, they brought with them a pack of Military dogs! Light and shadows, it worked like a dream! In the span of an evening, the Syndicate was wiped off the face of Erith. All that was left was me and some men I knew I could trust in the face of adversity."

"You stood back and watched as all your friends were captured and killed?" Custas grunted. "Mages like you are the worst."

"It was a sacrifice, you idiot. Can't you see that? A dream thrives on a solid foundation. On that day, I made a pledge to ensure my comrades' futures would not dwindle away pointlessly. I committed to achieving what Douglas could not." Cries and howls sounded behind him as a plume of Kliff's flames and ash jetted into the air like an enormous fountain, Cusas spotting some of their enemies being blown away like ragdolls. No matter the explosion, no matter how the ignited winds rustled his clothing, Vang continued standing straight, wickedness tainting his orange eyes. He kept his look fixed directly on Custas as venom dripped off his smiling spiked teeth. "I'll transform the Serpent Fang Syndicate into a force to be reckoned with, so much so that not even the Arcanum would be daring enough to cross us. We'll ravage Incante with iron claws until everyone learns to fear our names! And who better to lead them than I?! Vang the Vicious Cobra!"

Custas felt the irritation swell inside of him. This guy's completely delusional. I was right to keep my distance from them like I did.

"Every organization needs funding, though. And sure, we'll have to resort to taking on odd jobs like these to get by for a while, but it'll all be worth it in the end, which is why I can't have you or your noble friends interfering." Stomping hard on the ground, Vang shot his wand up at Custas, purple energy crackling around it. "So quit getting in our way, you damned coward! Poison Magic: Venum Aspidas!"

Magical energy burst forth from his wand, intertwining in the air like a vine from the depths of a jungle. Along its accelerated course across the forest clearing, the sinuous arc of energy began to morph, gradually adopting a more defined and intricate shape, glistening with hues that shifted in the sunlight. Its elongated body undulated savagely, stretching out to reveal the flat, hood-shaped appendages that emerged from the nape of its neck, arching outward on either side of its slender head. Its blood-soaked eyes gleamed with hunger, and as it closed in on Custas, the beast of poison unhinged its jaws, revealing its set of frightening fangs.

Inhaling deeply to fill his lungs with the baked air, Custas felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as, with a swift bend of his knees, he pushed off the ground with all his strength. The wind whipped around him, urging him forward with a vigorous push, his red tie unwinding from his neck and robbed by the pull of the sky. As he soared, he tilted his body to the side, narrowly evading the massive serpent lunging at him, snapping its jaws shut dangerously close to his left arm. Fritz! That would have been ugly! Custas thought in a panic, but he willed himself into concentration, focusing on the path ahead.

"What's this?!" Vang loudly provoked, flicking out his tongue. "Running away again, are we?!"

"Not quite!" Custas shouted. The next instant saw the rogue sorcerer's eyes widen as he grappled with the jarring sight before him: the lowborn, a mage he often dismissed as a 'coward,' was charging at him with unexpected ferocity, hurtling rapidly like a comet amidst the stars. In one hand, Custas kept his glimmering wand securely in his grasp, while his right hand, clenched into a fist, was poised to unleash a punch that would disrupt the paradigm of magic with raw strength alone, his knuckles white with tension.

Shaking off the fog of his previous inaction, Vang reasserted his focus, lifting his wand with a hasty, impulsive motion and unleashing a volley of Poison Magic Spells, sending sizable purple orbs of energy launching in Custas' direction. Each sphere—the size of a cannonball—crackled with arcs of raw magic power as they shot forth, trailing wisps of dark while homing in on their target with relentless precision.

To this, Custas tapped into the very essence of the atmosphere, the winds spiraling around him like a protective cloak. Issuing his subtle command as his wand flickered at his side, the winds responded eagerly, shifting and swirling, creating a dynamic force that nudged Custas left and right, allowing him to dance gracefully between the lethal projectiles of poison, each one missing their mark by a nose. Vang's magic was indeed executed with impressive speed, yet they paled in comparison to Custas' mastery of the wind. Before long, Custas closed the gap between them; now, only a few short meters separated him from the more than astonished Vang. The rogue sorcerer took a nervous step back, and Custas propelled himself even faster in response.

In the high-stakes game of magical dueling, it was almost customary for one to assume that their opponent would deploy spells and enchantments as their primary means of attack. The rush of adrenaline in the heat of battle could warp a mage's perception, leading them to focus solely on anticipating arcane strikes and avoiding their devastating impact. This was precisely why Custas theorized that Vang now stood frozen, his expression one of utter confusion and disbelief.

"I've always wanted to say this to you!" Custas roared, gliding speedily over the ground until he came within range of his former leader, his legs tucked underneath him and his arm swung back behind his neck. Through the tears building in his eyes, he saw the poison mage's shock rather clearly, Vang not even attempting to cast a barrier to protect himself. "Eat shit, snakefreak!"

Custas' fist flew straight into the side of Vang's jaw with such heavy vigor that he was removed off his feet and sent hurtling backward with blood spluttering out his gaping jaw. Vang crashed onto the ground, landing hard on his back with a resounding thump! and consumed by a dust cloud. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, and he began to cough violently, his chest heaving rhythmically as he struggled to regain his composure.

Steadying himself in the air, Custas gradually relinquished his hold on the swirling currents of wind, his feet gently sinking back onto solid earth beneath, grounding him firmly. With a subtle sigh of relief, he stood tall and composed, the weight of his elemental control settling back into the stillness of the movement. Though he had felled Vang, he didn't dare take his glance off of where the mage now lay, and as the dust settled, he watched as he wheezed in pain, a hand clutched to his diaphragm. "Wh...What the hell was that?" he croaked with what little remained of his voice.

"Payback, that's what! And it felt good! I'm a mage who can cast magic and throw a nasty—" A searing pain erupted from Custas' clenched fist, flowering outward like wildfire, its intensity overwhelming as it coursed through his knuckles and spread to his wrist. With a sharp intake of breath, Custas winced, the burn radiating across his hand causing him to grimace. Instinctively, he clutched his throbbing hand to his chest and slowly sank to his knees, his body bowing under the weight of his discomfort. He could only hope he hadn't broken anything. "Ow! What the hell?! Nobody ever mentioned that punches hurt me, too! Dammit!"

"I don't get it. Why are you fighting so hard?" Vang asked, struggling to sit up, knuckling the ground hard with a fist. With a scowling expression, his eyes found Custas, a purplish mark having been left behind by the punch he'd just received. Cracks expanded from the wound like the jagged threads of a spider web, pieces of Vang's skin cracking off as dark flakes. Underneath the surface of his false flesh was neither blood nor bone but segments that formed a coarse, diamond-shaped pattern of scales. "You know you can't beat us! It's pointless to try!" Attempting to stand, flakes of his face fell off like the shedding skin of a lizard, revealing more of the reptilian hide he often kept hidden. "Tell me, Custas! Have they driven you mad in that academy?!"

"Why?" Custas grunted, still kneeling on his knees with a hand clasped around his swollen wrist. "All my life, this world and the people in it have treated me like shit! I was convinced that that was just how it was supposed to be, a constant battle for survival." With a shuddering breath, Custas resolved himself with the strength to steadily pick himself to one knee, his eyes blurry from tears. He felt himself shake instinctively, but with another hollow inhale, he rose to his feet, battered yet cementing his boots into a solid stance. "Then, I enrolled in Glyph Academy, and suddenly everything changed! I met people who genuinely cared about me. People I'm happy to call my friends."

"Who?" Vang inquired dubiously, rising to one knee and spitting out a ball of blood with a flick of his tongue. "You can't possibly mean those filthy nobles?"

"Yeah, them," Custas said, fondness in his voice. Quickly turning his gaze over a shoulder, Custas caught sight of the both of them engaged in their fierce duels, Kliff enveloped in a swirling inferno and Elaine wielding her radiant light. They were far better sorcerers than he ever was, and so he placed his trust in their ability to protect him from any encroaching threats. However, a flutter of anxiety gripped his heart at the thought of their safety—though he wouldn't necessarily lose any sleep if Kliff fancied himself a black eye. "They're the ones who have been real friends to me, and I'm not about to let you destroy some of the only slivers of happiness in my life so that you could fulfill your nonsensical dream!" Custas shouted, raising his Common Wand out in front of him, poised to strike with a gleaming tip. "If you try to harm them, I'll do everything in my power to stop you!"

The sneer spreading below Vang's fiery eyes as he stood up caught Custas off guard, the man wiping blood from his disintegrating face with the back of his hand, flakes of his tanned skin dropping into the grass beneath him. "Dammit, I really hate being wrong, but it looks like they went and done it. They really did change you, and for the worse, might I add." Purple-colored electric bolts whipped out of Vang's wand held at his side, Custas sensing the energy swirling within the man's Core. "This makes me curious, though. Just how much do your friends mean to you?" Vang asked, his orange gaze shifting off to the side. "Could you bear to lose one of them?"

Fear enveloping him from within, Custas followed Vang's glance; the rogue mage was staring straight at Elaine. More than twenty meters behind him, Custas watched as Elaine fought against Kyro and his Wind Magic. The tall Rymevai mage, with his long hair billowing like storm clouds, unleashed a series of rapid, lashing motions with his wand, each thrust sending forth powerful bullets of compressed air that sliced through the wind with a sharp whistle. Standing her ground, her face a mask of concentration, Elaine maintained the flickering barrier of light before her. The energy shimmered and pulsed with a soft glow each time it absorbed one of Kyro's attacks.

Solely focused on her opponent, with strained eyes, gritted jaws, and bent knees, Custas struggled to conceive how she could respond fast enough to evade an impending assault that could cease her breathing life. That poisonous thought was more than likely rippling in Vang's brain, too. "If you're a different man now, then prove it!" he exclaimed wildly, brandishing the end of his wand at Elaine. "Show me how well you can save others!"

With a burst of adrenaline, Custas quickly pivoted on his heel and took off like a shot, dust erupting behind him in a spinning cloud. "Elaine!" he shouted with alarm. "Look out!"

All he could make out was the blonde-haired girl turning to meet his stare, her eyes widening with shock and horror just as a savage, stinging pain pierced his chest. The breath in his lungs evaporated, and the warmish air of the forest touched his skin as cold wisps; Custas was flying...no, no, he was falling, his feet knocked from off the ground as in a purple flash, the streaking bolt of poison drove into his flesh. Custas had enough time to identify a sniggering Vang, the fire in his orange eyes shining almost as brightly as the magical energy radiating from his wand he had aimed toward him, blanketing most of his grinning expression with purple light.

It felt as if time had stretched and warped, each moment elongated as he lost his footing and collapsed to the earth, almost weightless in his descent. The heavy thud of his body against the unforgiving forest floor sent a jolt through him, but he barely registered the pain. Someone had called his name, but as he grabbed the edges of his consciousness, trying to recall the voice, it merely hopped out of his reach.

Lying sprawled on the earth, Custas turned his gaze upward. His eyelids felt heavier as he blinked, the world around him growing darker with each fleeting second. Shadows crept into his vision, yet amidst the encroaching gloom, something caught his attention—that sacred sapphire glint that had changed his life's direction.

It served as a beacon on the border of his mind.