Banner was up first.

He and Cassien stood face to face several feet away in the clearing, with Banner clutching a heavy branch beneath thick, calloused fingers. He scratched his beard, looking behind at Myron who sat teary-eyed with sleep on a stump.

"How come I have to go first?" Banner complained.

"'Cos you're younger," Myron yawned. "But also 'cos I don't know what's going on, so I'm letting you take the hit first."

Cassien exhaled, flexing his hands. "I need you to try your best to hit me."

"Try? Son, when I was your age, I was out on the streets of Maergon fightin' every day. I don't gotta try," Banner grinned a toothy smile. "The only thing I gotta try not to do is crack your head open."

"That wouldn't help with the memory loss," Myron guffawed, stopping short. "But also, what's the point of all this?"

"Think of it as an… experiment, of some sorts," Cassien responded curtly.

"Oh, nuh uh. If you want help, you gotta be honest," Banner held the branch against the ground, leaning on it slightly. "We old dogs like to know things."

Cassien hesitated, relenting only when he accepted he didn't have any other choice. "Last night, a group of guys tried to attack Daisy and I. There was a metal pipe - and I don't know how - but I broke it. With frost."

Banner's brows shot up. "Frost?"

"In this type of heat?" Myron sounded equally as surprised.

Banner scratched his beard. "Like magic?"

"Magic," The thought passed through Cassien quickly. "If that's the only explanation…"

Myron looked intrigued. "And you think a scuffle will get it going again?"

"I don't know for sure, but it's the best theory," Cassien admitted.

Banner glanced at Myron, then swung the branch to rest on his shoulder, expression a little more serious. "That's good enough for me, son. Alright, we'll help. Just holler if you need us to pull back."

Cassien felt a breath of relief at how steadily they appeared to believe him. "You're not questioning it? That it might be magic?"

Myron laughed, the round of his belly shaking. "We're old dogs, Cassy. We might live in a little village in the middle o' nowhere, but we've heard crazier things."

"Plus," Banner rolled his shoulders. "Pretty sure magic's still a thing, at least in places other than Augustus. So you still sound less of a kook than Myr normally does."

"Aw, shut up!"

Before Cassien could question them any further, Banner eyed Cassien with a readied stance. "You sure about this?"

Cassien didn't even flinch. "Positive."

"Go easy on Ban, will you Cassy?" Myron called out jokingly. "We don't want him pullin' a muscle!"

Cassien nodded for Banner to start. The man ran forward, his dark skin dappled with light from the sun filtering through the trees. For an older man, he was surprisingly fast - but Cassien was faster. He feinted to the right as the branch swung down, making a whooshing sound from the sheer strength leveraged. No matter his age, Banner earned his structure through hard work as a lumberjack - he still had to be careful of his mock opponent. Cassien threw out his hand, as if instinct alone could call forth his mysterious power.

Banner closed the distance again. "A stick against bare hands? S'not a fair fight for you, son!"

"That's the point," Cassien gritted his teeth, stopping the swing with his hands, though the surface of his skin remained barren of proof. He pushed it away, holding back a curse.

Cassien cracked his knuckles. "You're holding back."

Banner scoffed, sweat beading from his head. "I'm tryin' to help you, not give you another head injury!"

The men continued again and again, like a dance between two fighters with no intention to maim the other. The clouds passed in a blur, the sun streaking across the yellowed sky to signal the late morning. Each time he grappled the branch or threw out his hands in an attempt to summon the frost, nothing happened. Myron swapped in after some time when Banner's body began to quiver, overexerted and entirely too winded.

"Great god, how are you not soaked?" Banner panted, his entire body slick with sweat, handing off the branch to Myron. Even Myron who had only been watching under the heat of the sun, was dripping buckets compared to Cassien, who was dry as bone.

Cassien had barely noticed, looking down at himself. He unbuttoned the tops of his shirt as if it made any difference at all - for whatever reason, the heat didn't bother him. "I feel fine."

"Unbelievable," Banner groaned.

The chestnut haired man was slower to move, but there was a heavier weight behind each swing. Cassien blocked, pivoted, grappled at each turn, but the strange magic refused to answer. His frustration rose, a semblance of shame burning through him with each failed attempt. He almost wanted to give up, to save face of whatever pride he had left at the fruitless attempts.

Myron heaved down again, and this time, he was too distracted - the wood clipped Cassien's shoulder, tipping him off-balance. Cassien staggered, jaw clenched as he quickly regained his footing. It wasn't a hard hit physically, but it might as well have been with how the feeling of failure hit him.

Myron let the stick drop, catching his breath. "You're not even payin' attention anymore, son."

"Let's take a break," Banner yawned loudly, stretching his back against the flat of a stump. "All this fightin' got my appetite built up. We can hit up the 'Gull for a meal."

Cassien opened his mouth to tell them to go ahead before his muscles tensed up, his acute senses prickling at an approaching figure from the thick of the woods. He turned to see Daisy pick her way through, blonde hair swept up in a messy bandana and wearing a white-blue milkmaid's dress. Around her arms slung a brown burlap hanging low, a delicious aroma almost visible to the naked eye wafting out.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Someone say 'meal?' Daisy called, the sunlight catching the blue of her eyes. "I saw you three run off earlier and figured if you were still here, I'd bring something by."

Daisy stopped short a few steps from Cassien, settling the sack against the flat of a stump.

Myron and Banner immediately hobbled over, hungrily reaching for packaged brown boxes that she began to pass out. "Just in time, Daize. Cassy here was workin' us like dogs."

"Is that so?" Daisy laughed, turning to Cassien with a wrapped box.

Her brain stuttered at the sight of him - his dark hair was windswept into a tousled mess but in an effortless way that just worked. The top buttons of his shirt were askew to reveal the sharp line of his collarbone and the top of defined pectorals, the visible flex of his forearm muscles evident as he took the package from her.

His gold-flecked eyes met hers, though they seemed distracted. "Thanks."

"...Welcome. My way of saying 'thanks' for last night," Daisy managed, clearing her throat. "So what're you three doing out here?"

Myron managed to pull himself away from the grub long enough to speak. "Helpin' Cassy figure out his magic fingers."

"Myron," Cassien threw him a sharp look.

"...Magic fingers?" Daisy squeaked.

"Not like that," Cassien swiveled to her quickly, and she could see the tips of his ears turning red. "How much do you remember from last night?"

"Cassy!" Myron's mouth dropped, bits of food stuck between his teeth. "Daize saw your magic fingers?"

"No!" The two shouted at the same time.

Daisy's cheeks turned pink. "I'm so confused."

Cassien dropped down to sit on a stump, pushing back his hair. "We mean literal magic. Which is how I think I broke the metal from last night."

Myron chomped down on a thick slab of roasted pork. "Now he's tryin' to do it again."

"And failing," Cassien added, and the frustration came back like a heavy wave. "This was a waste of time."

He sat down with a restrained sigh, trying to focus on the hearty meal to reinvigorate his body. The food was rich and well-seasoned, but it might as well have been grey mush with how dejectedly he chewed. Thoughts circled around and around his past, trying to find something - anything - that could help. The same blurred faces of his parents came back, distorted and vague beyond the fact that he shared the same black hair and golden eyes as his father.

Banner sucked the gravy from his fingers. "Magic or not, you're tryin' too hard. Why keep beatin' yourself in the same spot with a hammer? Pull back. Try another way. Don't give up."

Don't give up, A voice echoed deep in the recesses of his mind. All giving up means is that you've allowed fear to win - and only then, is failure imminent.

The phrase triggered an old, forgotten familiarity deep in the fog of Cassien's memories - a low, gravelly tone that took him a second to register as his father's. It was a somber moment to hear a voice that he knew should be dear to his heart, yet felt as cold and distant as a stranger's.

Cassien didn't need his memory to know he was a man who detested failure, that he was someone who strove for perfection. It was etched into his very being, and even now with his memories obscured and identity scattered, the one thing he could still cling onto was a relentless drive to succeed.

He straightened, setting his food aside and headed straight for the edge of the clearing where a thick acacia trunk waited. The others chattering died down as they turned their attention to Cassien, noticing his sudden tunnel vision.

He drew a deep breath, leaning into the tree with his forearm. Cassien closed his eyes, cycling his breath in a steady pace and channeling his entire focus into his stance.

Try another way, Banner's suggestion echoed repeatedly.

Cassien dug his palm flat against the bark, feeling the rough edges scratch the surface of his skin. He willed whatever dormant power to answer in a controlled manner - slow, solid, measured. He combined in his mind the visualization of what he remembered from last night of the cold white-blue frost, the spidery veins as it had crept up the pipe. Except now, he commanded it to glaciate the outer bark of the tree.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then - he felt it.

A creeping sprawl of silvery veins released from beneath his palms and onto the wood, crystals of frost spreading over in a thin sheet. It didn't spread as quickly or have the same intensity as before, but it was real.

Myron nearly dropped his meal on the floor in excitement, and the three cheered at the same time at his achievement.

"There ya go!" Banner whooped through a mouthful of mashed potato.

But as the frost spread from his hand, a dull pain began to grow from behind his left eye steadily. The more magic that emitted from him, the stronger the ache became - and with it, the sparkling violet light came back. A surprising desperation ripped through him at the hope of seeing the silver haired woman - her face having been so breathtakingly familiar - but into view came a wooden slate, the grain marked with expertly carved lines to depict a map and a short message: Harsbach, with yesterday's date scratched out and replaced with today's.

Cassien held on through the pain, each moment sharpening the image with unmistakable clarity - this was a deliberate message. Somewhere, someone was trying to reach out to him with a destination.

He gritted his teeth, thinking of a plausible explanation where only one existed. They know who I am.

The vision faded as he pulled back on his power and pressed his fingers to his temple. The ache was still there - dull but present, a steady throb behind his left eye. Cassien tested his theory - he willed the frost forward once more, then retracted it; each time, the pain lessened every time the frost dissipated from his hands, only to return whenever he summoned even the faintest chill. The two were correlated, like two sides of the same coin. Except now, with a fraction of his powers returned willfully, a small ache remained constant.

Cassien jerked away from the tree, striding towards the path back to the inner village of Pentley without a single word. Banner's celebratory grin faded at his intense expression. "Hey! Where are you going?"

The three of them looked at each other, scrambling up to follow him. Myron quickly stuffed the last bit of food in his mouth, stumbling forward. "Cassy, slow down!"

Cassien didn't waste a second. "Where's the stable house?"

"Cassien," Daisy's voice called out to him. "Talk to us."

For a moment, Cassien almost ignored the plea out of habit - not because he wanted to be cruel, but his instincts were of self-reliance, solitude. But for whatever reason, whether it was that these three strangers somehow burrowed deeper into his skin than he thought they ever would, Cassien stopped.

He turned to look at each of them. "I saw- The magic, it gave me a glimpse of something. A map pointing to a place called Harsbach. I need to make my way there."

Banner and Myron glanced at one another, with Myron speaking up. "Harsbach? Can't say I've heard of that, son."

"I have," Daisy interrupted, looking at Cassien with steady eyes. "It's a tiny village down in the savannas, just a days' away by horse. My father occasionally trades with them for medicinal remedies."

"Savannas?" Myron whistled. "If you think it's warm here, it's hotter than hell down there."

Cassien didn't hesitate. "Then it's a good thing I'm getting a handle on this frost magic."

"Well," Banner scratched the back of his head. "If you're intent on goin', then we'll get you sorted out. Water, food, a map, obviously a horse." Myron nodded eagerly in agreement.

"Thank you," Cassien said, caught off guard by their willingness to help. "And thank you for everything you've done. I'll make sure to repay you."

Myron scoffed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Repay nothin'. Tell ya what, if we ever wash up on your part of the world, buy us an ale then."

Cassien almost smiled. "Deal."

"Maybe I should come with you," Daisy offered. "I've been there a few times. Help keep you from going in circles."

"I can't ask that of you. Don't put your life aside for a total stranger - I'll be fine on my own."

Daisy shrugged, undeterred. "You didn't ask. I offered. And you're not really a stranger now, are you?"

Cassien frowned slightly, unconvinced. "It's a long ride."

"Geez, just take the lady with ya," Banner groaned, nudging Cassien's arm. "Some company would do you good. Get ya to stop talkin' like you're some hoity-toity noble."

"Ha!" Myron guffawed. "As if Cassy here could ever even stand being 'round one of 'em higher ups."

Daisy turned to him, her smile bright and ready as ever. "Then it's settled. Let's get going."

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