Cold, piercing rain fell from the sky.

It was late in the afternoon, and I stood at the entrance to the stables of Codrean waiting for my older brother, Bernar, who promised me a gift on the day I turned eighteen. After about an hour of waiting and shivering, he finally showed up. I felt a sense of relief as I watched him lead a large dark figure through the thick mud and horse shit that lined the path to the stables.

Bernar and I have an age difference of about five years, give or take a few months, but he is much stronger and taller than I am. Granted black hair like a raven’s feathers, golden glowing eyes, and a generally athletic build, he also wore a pendant around his neck which he often kept tucked away.

The black leather jerkin, with hose and boots to match, was shrouded by a rain repellent cloak. The heavy downpour made it a little tricky to see whatever it was he had behind him, but as he approached, it became evident that it was, in fact, a giant horse.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t immediately become ecstatic with the gift.

“Gods above and below, this thing is massive,” I said, not bothering to hide the excitement in my voice. “Yes, he is! I figured it would probably be a good gift for your horse-caster certification today,” he shrugged. “By the way, what kind of psychotic turd decides to do something like this on their birthday, huh?” he raised an eyebrow.

His voice sounded a lot like mine, if not a little higher in pitch, making it somewhat challenging to tell apart by just hearing our voices.

“Haha, well, about that…” I trailed off as I rubbed the back of my neck beneath my hood. “He cost me three months’ worth of my salary, but I’m glad you like it,” he patted the horse’s neck, cutting me off slightly. “Go on then; get him saddled and get ready for your exam,” he gestured dismissively.

I did as instructed and threw the saddle over its back. I did what I could for the leather bindings, but since my father had used this saddle for a long time before passing it down to Bernar, the holes and buckles were well worn and difficult to tighten.

Seeing as I was a little too short to get my foot in the stirrup, Bernar dragged a nearby shodding stool my way. I crawled up onto the horse's back with difficulty, as the size of the damned creature was much larger than the one I was previously used to.

This, in turn, also meant I struggled to get my right foot to the other side.

Bernar cackled while watching me fumble-fuck my way about the giant quadriped; infinite mocking was his prerogative as the older brother, after all. “I should have considered this as a possibility. It’s true that you’re a good sword-caster, but if Mom had seen you struggle like this, there is no way she would have let you try to become a horse-caster,” he said between laughs.

I felt my mouth grimace as I squinted my green eyes. “Oh, just lay it on thicker, you derisive thundercunt. It's my first time trying to mount a horse this large. My old horse was much shorter than this one, and that’s not even mentioning the fact that you put the stirrups a little too high,” I replied with a sardonic sneer.

Bernar shook his head, still chuckling a little to himself. “That's because our rotund father had used this saddle for decades until it was passed down to me. I’m not sure how much you remember much about him, but he cared almost as much for this saddle as his own sons,” he replied with a tongue click. “Sounds about right,” I chuckled, recalling the night I was brought to Codrean.

“After having kept it in storage for so long, I had forgotten about how sad a state it was in,” he continued with a sigh. “I meant to get it repaired before giving you the horse, but I had already drained a lot of my savings,” he shrugged. “It’s still a mighty horse. I don’t know how to repay you for it,” I said with as much gratitude as possible.

“You can repay me by not fucking your exam up and making father, the shit nugget that he is, eat his words,” Bernar snorted. “If worse goes to shit, at least you’ll have a horse worthy of the gods themselves. Just, uh, make sure your spell doesn’t backfire, okay? That would suck,” he added with a wry grin. “Sure, sure,” I waved dismissively.

A spell was the simplest form of magic we, the Synners, used primarily to augment our combat abilities. Sure, some druids and mages solely relied on their mana manipulation skills, but we were monster slayers to our cores.

However, unlike mages or druids, we gained improved mana-based abilities by consuming a plant known as Gwynnleaf. While this wasn’t the only reason we could control mana, it certainly aided the process. We’d earned our moniker of Synner due to the Church of Mideia branding us such, as we, according to their cult-like views, thought we opposed the natural order between gods and men.

It was laughable at best.

“And what if I do pass this certification? Do you think the Master will finally train me to become an all-caster?” I asked, openly displaying my hopes and dreams for the future. Bernar sat on the question briefly, placing a soaked glove on his chin.

“Well, you’re still missing your spear and bow-casting certifications, and that’s not to mention reaching the next stages of mana manipulation, so I can't say for sure,” he lifted a finger for each point. “But, if he accepts you for all-caster training, I would suggest you dig deep and dedicate yourself to succeed,” he tilted his head seriously.

“All-casters are rare enough as it is, and we Synners are likely to become a dying breed. There are even some in other nations that have become outcasts, living like nomads or bandits for hire because of their skills,” he began, spreading his arms. “But why? What the hell could they possibly have done to get that title?” I raised an eyebrow.

This wasn’t the first I’d heard of these outcasts, after all. There were several rumors among the other New Bloods and Juniors, like me, of Synners turning their backs and betraying their kinsmen over conflicting ideals or other such reasons. According to them, those rumors had reached the far corners of the Continent.

“Beats the fuck out of me, little brother,” Bernar shrugged. “However, the Master told me that we must always do our best to avoid following in their footsteps, because when all is said and done, we were created for ridding the world of evil; not adding to it,” he continued, giving his best impression of the Master.

I chuckled at the accuracy of his imitation, but I also knew the depth of what my brother meant from his history lessons over the years.

“In any case, let’s begin,” Bernar waved his hand. I nodded and stuck my heels into the horse's side. Hoof-fall like rolling thunder whipped up a splash of mud, and I could feel the strands of my hair flowing in the wind.

I held onto the reins as tight as I could, focusing on breathing in rhythm with the horse's gallop and relaxing my mind to focus on the challenge ahead.

Casting from a solid stance is relatively simple, but this is a whole new devil I'll have to manage, I thought.

I was closing the distance to the target quickly, and knew I had to begin gathering mana. The enchanted ring, which all junior Synners wore, served as a magical ward that helped to stave off, but not entirely block, the heat produced by the condensed mana just before casting a spell. I focused on the one I had to produce, and reviewed the training I'd had since I was only five years old.

First decide, transfer, then conduct, and finally, release! Never mix the order up or the spell won't work, the Master’s words echoed in my head.

For whatever gods-forsaken reason, I decided it would be fun to try to impress my brother with a bolt of lightning that could be cast from my fingertips. The target was well within striking range for the spell’s effect, and I took a deep breath before the channeling process.

This process required anyone who wished to use a spell to draw mana from the Ethereal; The invisible realm surrounded all things, both living and inanimate, which, to my knowledge, was the origin of mana itself. I began to focus intensely, while still trying to maintain my posture in the saddle.

I forcefully closed my eyes for an instant, using all of my willpower to divide my attention, sending my consciousness into the other realm. My eyes reopened as the familiar feeling of my dilating pupils covered the olive green irises and the whites of my eyes, as my consciousness went from the Between into the immaterial world.

The Ethereal was a realm of pure and plentiful power where bright, colorful shafts of light circled a glowing sphere of pure power in the sky. Stars of all sizes wheeled overhead and meshed with the shafts, releasing a blue and yellow flare whenever they merged.

I looked around and observed the ongoings above me as I did every time I drew mana from the realm. I never had any need to rush this process, as time was not something the realm took into consideration, the only one I knew of to have such a characteristic.

It was filled with life forms that roamed the vast forest of magnificent trees. A stone’s throw away, the shimmering lake glistened and reflected the light produced from the sphere above it.

The river that flowed beside me constantly changed its shape and color, according to the stars that merged with the tendrils of power. I outstretched my right hand towards the sphere, spreading my fingers as wide as possible. The mana responded to my call and began to flow in tendrils towards my hand, warming the air around it wherever it went.

They wrapped around my fingers, and my connection to them began harnessing and transforming them into a nebula of raw mana. As I drew more from the sphere, it encased my body like a flowing, gaseous cocoon, which began to show itself in the Between.

Exerting my will on the mana in my mind, I quickly absorbed it into my body and mind, where it could be molded into the spells I'd already learned. I then condensed what I had gathered into my hand to cast the spell out in front of me.

The mana cloud surrounding my body suddenly condensed in the palm of my right hand, moving with the fluidity of a river as it rushed toward it. As it moved, it warmed what little armor I was wearing, making the hairs on my arm stand on end as it went.

The warmth gathered into an opaque indigo sphere that glowed brightly in the palm of my hand. The heat it generated grew rapidly and began seeping through the minor ward from the ring.

Time to cast. Otherwise, my ward will fail, and my hand will melt from the heat, I winced, feeling the heat begin to seep through my meager protection measures.

I found my target and whirled my arm the same way I’d practiced so often in the late-night hours. With the casting hand, I whirled my arm in a clockwise circle, followed by a pull-push motion, making quick work of the spell’s release. The heat that threatened to burn through the ward went along with it. The best way I can describe it would be like quickly removing my hand from a campfire.

All of this happened in a fraction of a second as the bolt of indigo lightning shot out from the fingertips of my glove.

The mana-bolt, now traveling through the air, vaporized the raindrops near it as it flashed. The difference in temperature from the bolt and the air around it was so great that the resulting boom kicked up large clumps of mud as it careened towards the target.

Charred bits of the exploding target flew everywhere as it struck, with more than a few passing by a little too closely for comfort.

The unfortunate chicken pecking at the ground behind the target was, unsurprisingly, turned into little more than a pink feathery mist.

Bernar's jaw dropped as he looked on in astonishment. “Haha! I didn’t think you had that in you, sneaky little shit,” he shouted. I looked over my shoulder as I turned the horse. “Didn’t you have some kind of wager with Roburn on whether I was going to fuck it up?” I scoffed with no small hint of sarcasm.

“N-no, why would I have that?” he chuckled nervously. “I was actually hoping you would be able to do it, though, as for the others…” he trailed off with a shrug.

Yeah, he definitely had a bet with Roburn, I shook my head.

I rode to my brother's side and dismounted with more grace than I’d had when I tried to mount the large horse. Bernar embraced me firmly and patted me on the back with matching force.

“Finest use of the Kyr spell I've seen in a while,” he smiled brightly. “Well executed, but dangerous,” his tone shifted, prompting me to raise an eyebrow. “Horses get spooked easily, and most horse-casters recommend using quieter spells while riding. Luckily for you, this one’s well-trained to handle surprises like that,” he continued.

“I see,” I muttered pensively. “I just hope the Master will be surprised once he hears about this,” I shrugged. "I don’t doubt it, little brother," he smiled, tousling my hair. “I know I wasn’t pulling these stunts at your age. Hell, he might even train you to be the best all-caster of all of us,” he grinned. My eyes widened in surprise when I heard him say that. “You really think so?” I asked, hardly containing my excitement.

“Why wouldn’t I? After all, he does sense that you have much more power than most other boys here,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I really hope you’re not just saying that to make me happy, brother. You know damn well I would do my best to be the best he’s ever seen,” I said with ironically little self-confidence.

My brother smiled and put a gloved hand atop my shoulder, tilting his head slightly and looking at me from beneath his dark eyebrows. “I'm sure you will be, and I'll help you in that endeavor wherever I can,” he said warmly. “Does that mean you’ll let me kick your ass during training?” I asked, making him laugh heartily.

“You're more than welcome to try, but I guarantee you won't land a blow if you don't pack on some muscle and learn a few new tricks. Your arrogance far outweighs your flagpole build as it is,” he lightly punched my arm. “I might not have your strength, but I'm at least twice as fast as you,” I grinned as I nursed my arm.

“Sure, sure,” he waved his hand dismissively. “But what is speed when your legs are sore, arms are tired, breathing heavy, and all that after only 10 minutes of having it out with one of those damned-ugly creatures outside?” he asked, the smile slightly fading from his face.

“No, shit bird. You'll need both to survive out there. Being good with mana will only get you so far,” Bernar said with a seriousness that I had never seen in him until that point.

I began to think about the reality of the world outside the fortress walls, which I had yet to explore.

He never did explain why I haven’t been allowed to go on expeditions yet, has he? I thought, trying to remember any conversation we’d ever had about the topic.