Anger surged through me. A faerie. Using illusions. Tricking us. But I was a Radiant of Rithi. I was trained in the art of painting. I had mastered it...And illusions were merely painting with magic.“Gods damn it!” Sven snarled, stumbling back, blocking an unseen blow. But clumsily. His footing stumbled; his short sword almost knocked out of his hand. “Show yourself, coward!”A laugh rumbled, deep and cruel. And male.I frowned. What game was the faerie playing?I burst out of the tent, standing. The vibrant young girl in the beautiful setting had gladdened him further. He was riding to where he could start to see snowfields on the closer mountains. The young woman brought his memories back to when he himself was a youth, before he had undergone his training. He remembered the playful flirtations with the village girls, kissing behind trees. Such thoughts were not out of keeping with his training. While strict, he was also taught to appreciate the beauty of life.But as the minutes. More

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