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[Vian Skyfire]

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Standing there with sweat pouring off his forehead, Vian was certain he would pass out any moment. Never realizing how taxing the magical arts could be on your body, he now had gained a new level of respect for every mage he had ever known.

The choice to take up the magical arts was something he always knew he would make. His father was a mage, his mentor, Lord Commander Davaran was a mage, even his fathers best friends were mages. He had first experienced the versatility and usefulness of the arts during his Valor quest for knighthood. Now here he stood along side his cousin Cyrus, under the tutelage of Ragnar Teach, a longtime friend of both of their fathers.

To Vian, Ragnar didn’t seem to care whom their fathers were, how hard they “tried”, or what they had previously accomplished. He only cared about results. You drilled and drilled and drilled until you completed his task the way he wanted it done. He did not give breaks and he did not accept anything that fell below his standards, no matter how close that was.

Exhausted, his father’s words sounded in his head.
“When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place.”

Closing his eyes for a moment Vian thought about his childhood dream to become a hero of Sanctus. A thousand stories and images flashed through his mind.

Blinking away the burning sweat from his eyes, and taking a deep breath, he started casting the next series of spells in his drill.

[Rags]

---

Ragnar stood in his cottage and stared at his two young students who sat before him. They sat on the floor of his home, in the middle of his arcane circle, with their legs crossed under them, their hands on their knees, palms up, with their thumbs touching their middle and index fingers, seemingly at peace as they meditated. Their concentration was total but it had taken a lot of hard work to get them to this place in their training.

Ragnar's home had no windows and was very small. The cold wind of Malas blew outside and the walls softly shook. A single small candle was the only source of light in the cottage but that was more for Cyrus and Vian then it was for Ragnar. Ragnar hated windows for several reasons, privacy and security not least among them, but he also never saw the reason for one because of magic and his enchanted reading glasses that enabled him to see in the dark.

A small bead of sweat started to fall down Cyrus' face but his muscles didn't so much as twitch. They had been meditating for two straight hours and Ragnar knew that the intense concentration would be taking its toll on their young bodies.

Cyrus looked to be the spitting image of his father, King Talon Skyfire. Ragnar almost laughed at times when one of Talon's idiosyncrasies was shown in his true blood son. They had almost identical features and there was no doubt that Cyrus was the son of the mighty Talon Skyfire. Ragnar knew that it hadn't been easy for Cyrus to forgo the Path of the Warrior and Paladin for the Path of the Mage, Vian had been a strong influence for that, but he showed all the dedication to it that was worthy of a Skyfire once his mind had been made.

Ragnar and Cyrus had clashed a bit, and at first Ragnar had considered him to be a spoiled brat, which he might be to an extent, and Ragnar's wrath towards him was that of an angry uncle. But now Ragnar see's that he is the true son of his Battle Brother, Talon, and respected the boys inner strength, though he of course never would tell him as such.

Luckily, Vian, looked more like his mother then his father. As much as Ragnar loved and respected his Battle Brother, Zarlox, he was very grateful that the boy only took after Zarlox in small physical ways, like his eyes and strong chin, but still retained the softness of his mother that made him quite handsome. Vian was every inch Zarlox's dutiful son. Strong, committed, honest, and brave. Ragnar was secretly proud of the boy and the man he was turning into.

Ragnar had once been a mighty battle-mage for Stormhaven and the Light, though he wasn't much of a follower of the Virtues he only truly cared for his friends and comrades, and had garnered a fearful reputation. He had started his career as a warrior and had gradually intertwined magic with his prodigious fighting skills into a perfect weave of magic and might.

That was many years ago, of course, and now Ragnar's weak physical frame was not suited for sword play. He was now a pure mage and never before was he so in tune with his magical aptitudes.

Vian had heard of Ragnar from the many stories of his father, Zarlox, and had asked Ragnar to train himself and Cyrus in the magical arts and how to use those skills in battle. Vian knew that Ragnar considered Zarlox and Talon his Brothers and must of thought that it would be fitting for him to teach them. Ragnar took this duty very seriously since he was so close to Zarlox and Talon. In fact, he was the emissary from Stormhaven that had visited the distant shores of Evermoore where the Prince Talon Skyfire had originally lived. They had developed a wonderful friendship and Ragnar was happier then anyone when Talon had come to Stormhaven and became King. That was ancient history nowadays, but Ragnar still looked back on them with fondness.

At first the training had been hard on Vian and Cyrus. Ragnar would laugh contemptuously at them as they both would attack with their basic spells and Ragnar would bring them low in the matter of seconds.

"Again!" Ragnar would bellow, laughing cruelly at their failures, watching the fire in their eyes grow.

"Again! Again! Again!" Ragnar would say as they picked themselves up, clothes singed from the lightning spell that had brought them to their knees.

Pain is a great motivator, Ragnar knew, and he used it to great effect. Every spell that was mis-cast, pain. Every incantation that was mis-pronounced, pain. Every time their concentration slipped, pain. Every time they looked like they would break and lose their calm, pain. Stubborn just like their fathers, neither one of them would quit. Ragnar would make sure they were ready for the tasks ahead.

Gradually their skills grew, as skills are want to do when someone does not give in. The first time the duo bested Ragnar two on one they barely could hide their pleasure. Ragnar grinned at them.

"That'll do lads, well done. Though I do believe Cyrus added a spell or two once I was already down. Now for one on one sparring." The pair groaned in unison.

Every day the cousins got better and Ragnar's pride in his students grew, though they never knew it. He was always critical, nothing was ever good enough. Once they reached a certain level he would ease up, but that time was not yet upon them. He watched them critically and trained them mercilessly to ensure that they would measure up the their fathers names and not bring shame to their houses.

Ragnar clapped his hands.

"Alright lads, up you go, slowly now you'll legs will be cramped. Drink some water and be back here in ten minutes for sparring practice." The pair winced a bit but nodded respectively and left the cottage. Ragnar smiled a bit. It was going to be a long night.

[Cyrus Skyfire]

---

He was exhausted, far to exhausted to move. He kept trying to think of a word to describe
the torture he was enduring. "Blasted Vian.." Cyrus whispered to himself. He struggled just to lift his arm
so he could drape it over his eyes against the light that was peeking in through one of the windows.
He figured he had another three maybe four minutes before Ragnar would be there telling him to get up.
Cyrus knew better then to roll over when Ragnar would try to wake him. He tried it that very first morning.
He remembered more specifically his blanket bursting into flames. "I suppose I had better get moving." He said aloud.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed he struggled to sit up. Every muscle he had felt like it was on fire.
Forcing himself to stand he went over to the small table he kept his spellbook at.
Ragnar had given it to him all those days ago when they had started this "training".
Alot of the spells where still unknown to him but he had begun to cast more and more of them without fail.
"I guess he really does know what he's doing." Cyrus thought with a smile as the question he had spoken to Vian when he had mentioned taking up this study popped into his head. He could hear Ragnar entering the tower he shared with Vian, instantly his smile vanished.
Turning towards the stairs he slowly walked down to greet his teacher and begin another day of grueling tests.