Argentgard was unusually silent today.

His master, Beldaruit—who usually sent a smoke sculpture spell of himself, was missing. So were the children, who normally awaited and adored the wise one's eccentric display of magic.

Though that wasn't a problem for Riliphin; he preferred it this way. He sat under the large, ornate glass greenhouse that caged an ancient behemoth of a Silverwood tree.

Riliphin reflected deeply on his life as a witch, a student, and a brother.

It was an unparalleled honor to be taken under the wing of a sage, especially one whose entire domain was the art of teaching.

Yet, after all the time that had passed, his mind still lingers for that one person.

"I wonder how she is these days..." He murmured to himself.