My fourth birthday wasn't supposed to be very interesting.
I mean - there was cake, yes. And Maren had drawn a picture of me fighting a dragon, and Jakob whizzed up some fireworks.
He shot fire into the air, and it exploded very similarly to how actual fireworks would.
It wasn't night, but his magic was strong, so it was clearly visible in different colors.
But it was still a birthday for a four-year-old.
Dad and Orrin set up one of those outdoor gazebos and put a table and a few chairs under it.
Then I noticed something strange.
We were in the garden in front of the house, but by the gate stood a figure.
He stood completely still. Then he floated upward, as though he were detached from gravity, went over the gate, and landed softly.
He didn't look like someone who belonged at a children's birthday party. Rather, he looked like he belonged in a fantasy novel.
He was old, and his beard was silver - not gray, not white, but silver - and the color matched his eyes.
His clothing and staff were silver too. He wore something like a mix of a cape and a poncho, and because one hand was raised to hold his staff, I could see that he wore no shirt underneath, but he was strangely buff for an old man.
He had wrinkles all over.
I tugged on Father's sleeve before I blew out my candles to get his attention. An adult was needed in this situation.
"…There's a man."
Alarick turned, squinted, and frowned deeply.
The old man raised his staff.
"Hello, young ones," he said softly. "It seems I am late for the festivities."
The moment he stepped close enough to discern his face, my skin prickled. There was something strange about him.
Sera, who had also attended my birthday, as she had gotten closer to Dad for a while now, drifted her hand closer to her sword.
Master Orrin, on the other hand, didn't do anything. He was overwhelmed, and his face reflected that - like someone had slipped ice down his back.
Alarick, after he got over his frown, had no expression.
"You could have sent a letter," he said.
"Letters are slow. And this occasion felt pressing," the old man responded.
His eyes drifted to me.
Me?
Master Orrin stepped forward fast, almost protective.
"Gregorio," he said with the careful respect of someone standing next to someone with a far higher rank than oneself. "It has been many years. I've heard quite a bit about you, and I was there during the funeral of your daughter, of Rosa."
Rosa? Mom? That must have meant that this old-timer was my grandfather.
"So?" Gregorio said.
Orrin's jaw tightened, and he stumbled over his words. "I… uh…"
"If you have nothing to say, then be silent. I am only here for my grandson, Caleb. I am here to teach him the ways of the Hollowstars - philosophy, way of life, magic."
"If you're here to teach," Orrin said, "then perhaps Jakob would be the better student. He's a few years into his magical studies already, and - "
"No." Gregorio's tone sharpened, and he looked to Jakob. "There is no point."
Orrin bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Gregorio didn't even look at him. "Nothing can grow on salted earth. Caleb is unsoiled by whatever the Lightbanes, or you, decided was their way."
When Jakob heard that, he balled his fists. He was furious and embarrassed at the same time. He puffed out his chest, but he stood closer to Sera than before.
And everyone realized this was no casual visit.
Sera subtly shifted her position closer to the children.
Maren was staring up at Gregorio, unimpressed. For her, this was just a rude old man.
Father cleared his throat, stepping between Gregorio and everyone else.
"Let's try to avoid making a scene at Caleb's birthday."
Gregorio tapped on his staff. With each tap, it felt like the earth was shaking.
"My apologies," he said in a voice that somehow managed to sound polite while absolutely promising nothing. "I merely wish to teach one of my grandchildren the Hollowstar way. And nothing - " his eyes slid over the adults, " - will stop me."
Sera flared up. "Then we will have a problem."
"Or," Gregorio interrupted, "you simply… cooperate."
There was no threat in his tone, but everyone interpreted it that way.
Alarick raised a hand before anyone else could say anything.
"What exactly do you propose?"
Gregorio smiled. "I come for Caleb four times a week. I teach him. I return him before sundown."
"No," Alarick said immediately.
"Three times a week," Gregorio suggested.
"He is still little, what - " Alarick said, but was cut off.
"He has a spark to him, one that none of you understand. It must be nurtured quickly."
Gregorio gave him no time to think.
Dad looked at me for a long moment, like he was already regretting giving Gregorio even a single inch.
Alarick breathed out slowly. "We set terms. Do not break them."
Gregorio inclined his head. "Of course not."
Sera and Orrin glared at Father.
"Alarick, don't let him take the boy alone," they told him.
"It will be supervised. Someone of my household will - " Alarick said to Gregorio.
"No. That is something I cannot abide. We must be alone. No outsiders may gaze upon my family's secrets."
There was a pained expression on Alarick's face, but he seemingly couldn't do anything about it.
He was silent for a long time.
"With those terms," he continued, and sighed, "I accept your offer."
Orrin and Sera looked betrayed.
Gregorio looked satisfied.
He bent down to me. "Happy birthday, young one," he said gently.
This was exhausting.
I didn't cry or anything, which I think was very mature of me.
I wonder how Shadowboon spent his birthday.
That day, dinner was quiet.
Sera and Orrin stayed near the doorway, watching the shadows outside as if Gregorio might reappear. Father didn't touch his food at all.
I saw that Jakob had been affected by the comment Grandfather made.
And I, myself, thought it was harsh too. Jakob was a genius - not just in magic, but generally too. He was very smart for an eight-year-old, in the book-smart kind of way.
Maren, on the other hand, ate like nothing happened. It seemed like she either had no clue what was going on or just didn't care.
I didn't really know what was going on either. Even though Dad and the other adults hadn't said anything, it was obvious that whatever Gregorio had planned with me wasn't good or "nice."
They seemed to fear him, in a strange sort of way.
The next day, Gregorio's teachings started immediately.
"Granddad" arrived before dawn.
He stood by the front door, having already gone past the front gate without anyone's permission.
The day before, he left without saying goodbye after he told my father he wanted time with me for now. I can only assume that he stayed somewhere in Endil. Maybe he rented a room in an inn or something like that.
If he was a great wizard, then maybe he lugged around a portal tower? I'm not sure. The limitations of magic in this world were still unclear to me.
But then I wondered again. He was famous, wasn't he? Did he get recognized on the street, or did he go undercover? Seriously. Where was he staying?
Anyway, I still thought it was good to have famous relatives, in every way.
"Good morning," Alarick said when he opened the door.
Gregorio nodded once. "Let's not waste daylight. Bring me the boy."
I was already behind Father. I had to admit, I was kind of interested to see what Gregorio had in mind.
I'd already heard he was a great mage, but how great? And what kind?
Father placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "If there is any trouble, come right back here. Do you understand?"
I nodded, and I went with Grandfather.
He led me into a clearing far from the Lightbane manor. The grass was wet with dew, and my short feet were cold. Gregorio walked as if he didn't feel the weather at all.
When we stopped, he turned to face me. "Before I teach you, I want to be honest with you."
I nodded politely, the way a four-year-old was supposed to.
He sighed, and then changed. And I mean, really changed.
His beard disappeared. His wrinkles were gone. His posture straightened. His eyes sharpened.
In seconds, he no longer looked like an old man - more like someone in his late twenties.
I showed no reaction except some curiosity. I wasn't sure what to feel.
"Most people," he said, "would panic if they saw this."
I stared.
"…Okay."
He exhaled through his nose in amusement.
"You take after your mother."
He tapped his chest.
"Inside my body, there are magical markings - let's just call them tattoos - on my heart, lungs, even nerves, that keep me… healthy, as you can see."
He gave me a sideways glance. "I know you understand far better than your age lets on."