Monday, July 12th 1790

Glandera

The morning passed without Glandera being called out of the mine. She stubbornly hammered on the quartz and threw the material into the minecart. To follow the quartz vein, she closed her eyelids and felt along the rock face with her fingertips. The tingling sensation on her skin diminished the deeper she stepped into the crevice. Completely absorbed in her work, she only noticed Zulkis when she was overcome by his acrid stench.

“Glandera, you don't obey me,” he complained with an arrogant undertone.

She turned her head away from him, covering her nose with her hand. “I do my work as you wish.”

“That's not enough.”

He stepped closer, and she realised that she was at a dead end. Her only option was to squeeze past him. She held him at a distance with outstretched arms, but Glandera had no chance against his body mass. Inevitably, he pressed her against the rock face with his spongy body. He reached into his trousers with his right hand.

“Leave me alone!” His fist moved against her stomach. The sour smell of sweat made her gag.

“Instantly,” he panted, “…just a moment longer.”

Thanks to her slender body, Glandera managed to squeeze herself deeper into the crevice. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and hoped that he would finish quickly. Memories of her colleagues flashed before her eyes, and she clenched her hands into fists. The situation seemed increasingly hopeless. Discouraged, she leaned her head against the cool rock face. Her forehead hit the quartz vein. Like a sponge, her senses were absorbed by the mountain and her surroundings faded away.

Ferron

A few kilometres away, Archmage Ferron heard the roar of the earth before any of the other mages. His irises immediately turned grey. In his magical perception, he had an exact topographical image of Chattenberg before his eyes, and it was easy for him to find the epicentre of the quake via the waves. He jumped up in the middle of the conversation. "An emergency!" His chair fell to the floor with a thud, and his hand formed a horizontal figure eight, which he used to open the portal. Then he was gone.

Surprised, his colleagues looked at their glasses, which were moving across the table, vibrating softly as the liquid formed circles in them.

Glandera

Glandera was surrounded by complete darkness. She wandered around, not knowing where she was, desperately looking for a way out. Danger had brought her here, but she couldn't remember what she was running from. Panic rose inside her, and she shook the rock with increasing determination so that a path would open up for her.

There, a touch. The backs of somebody's fingers gently stroked down her arm. Somebody clasped her hand. She knew it was Ferron's presence. How was that possible? Grateful to have found someone in this darkness, she followed him in the direction he was pulling her. Gradually it became brighter until her consciousness finally reached the light.

Ferron

Lightning flashed one last time before Ferron pulled her powerless body out of the crevice. The trembling stopped. He bent over her protectively, his hand making a circular motion. She hung limply in his arms, but to him, she was as light as a feather as he stepped through the portal.

Glandera

The pressure in her chest eased as Glandera strolled through the small forest beside the archmage. It smelled of resin. A narrow path led them past beech and fir trees until the area cleared.

The view of the Mage Academy was clear. Although Glandera's stomach clenched, she stopped for a moment and looked at the imposing building. She had never seen the back part before, but this was how she had always imagined a fairy tale castle to look like. The whitewashed walls shone brightly in the afternoon sun and vines ran up to the second floor. Red roses bloomed in front of the windows and tables and chairs on the small terraces invited guests to linger. The bushes in the garden were a lush green and perfectly pruned. The scent of roses mingled with thyme and crickets chirped in the lush grass. Hundreds of butterflies flew through the garden. It hadn't rained for months and the harvest was withering all over the county, but here she didn't notice anything of the hot summer.

A cold shiver ran down Glandera's spine, and she walked on, shaking her head. What am I doing here? she thought. It makes no sense at all that I'm the only one being brought to this place because of an earthquake. Everyone can see from my dirty clothes where I really belong.

A forgotten umbrella was leaning against a glass pavilion. Ferron nimbly opened it. “You'll want to protect your skin from the sun.”

She accepted the ornate handle with the crocheted lace sunshade in disbelief. Her voice failed her, for she thought it was worthy of a queen.

Fortunately, Ferron led her in a wide arc around the building, showing her the beehives and the hen house. Glandera savoured the feel of the cool, lush grass beneath her feet. She secretly looked out for toys, like a ball that a child had left lying around – but she found nothing. Was her grandmother's story true? She didn't dare ask, and for the most part, the archmage remained silent as he accompanied her through the town to her street. There he gallantly said goodbye to her.

Hilde rushed towards her daughter and hugged her as soon as she had closed the front door behind her. “My dear! At last! Are you all right? Where have you been all this time?”

“Safe.” Glandera scratched her head. “I was taken to safety.”

“I'm glad about it.” Her mother hurried back to the window. “Is that him?” She kept moving her head to get a better look at Ferron, who was leaving the street in the direction of the market square.

“Who do you mean?”

“Well, the handsome man who accompanied you home. Is he the admirer you've been keeping secret from me?”

Glandera rolled her eyes. “You certainly can't call him that.” She resolved to be more careful. Otherwise, the whole town would soon be talking about her.

“Then what is he? First he sends us food, then he escorts you home...”

Glandera quickly hurried up the stairs. “I don't know, Mother.” She shook her head slowly. I don't know, I really don't know.

Ferron

Without his robe bearing the insignia of his rank and the earth element, Ferron looked like a wealthy citizen of this town in his clothes. Smiling, he turned around. Of course, he had noticed her mother rushing to the window to inspect him. He laughed as Hilde called him Glandera's 'admirer'. But that was all he learned.

This family was still a mystery to him. Arminio had told him that only the marriage of Glandera's parents was recorded in the church register. They were devout Christians, and he was sure that their children had been baptised. Why hadn't this been recorded? And why didn't she carry an artefact like other mages that showed her origins? Her brother didn't need it, as he didn't show any magical talents.

He was glad that nothing had happened to her family during the earthquake. Lost in thought, he grabbed at his right side to get out his silver gloves and reached into the void. These, too, were still tucked into his robe. He smiled, for he had not felt the desire to wear them for a moment in Glandera's company. His path led him behind the archway directly into the fire wing to his friend Sverker.

Tired from the long debriefing with the fire mage and the many unfamiliar events, Ferron returned to his study. Since Sverker was writing the report, he had time to make notes about Glandera and plan his next steps. The servants had returned his robe and cleaned it. He reached into his pocket, took out his gloves and put them on. He paused in mid-motion.

A servant had placed a silver tray on his desk. On it lay Glandera's dusty headscarf. The image of it slipping off her head and revealing her brown curls flashed before his inner eye. Her red lips that brought a smile to her face. A warm feeling spread through his body.

Hesitantly, he approached and placed the gloves on the table. Carefully, as if it were Glandera herself, he took the cloth in his hands and scrutinised it. Slowly, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed it.

He was not surprised that it smelled like the mine where she worked, but there was another intense odour: that of thunderstorms. That special moment when the energy had built up in the clouds, when lightning flashed overhead and it thundered at the same time, and then the first raindrops fell with a loud splash on the heated ground. That scent when they evaporated and the earth eagerly soaked up more rain was unique.

Ferron took a long breath. It electrified him. The desire to plunge his nose deep into Glandera's hair flashed through him like a bolt of lightning. His fingers clutched at the headscarf. He wanted to see her every day, be near to her. To be able to do this, he would concentrate all his efforts on taking away her fear of mages.