'Do you understand why I showed you this?' asked Eirian, emerging from the shrubbery on the hillside, Will following shortly behind. He didn't answer, tears of confusion and hurt spilled over his cheeks.
'Her spell never worked,' he murmured. 'I remember it as if it was a dream. I thought it was...until now...'
'Troll magick is weak and unreliable,' he said. 'Only the highest form of magick could have blocked such trauma, perhaps the kind of memory magick used on other events of your life.'
'How is this supposed to convince me?' Will asked quietly, following Eirian slowly and solemnly down the pathway to the streets. 'I hurt people, even back then.'
Eirian put a hand on Will's shoulder, bright on dull. 'An accident, one you regret. You defended yourself, the best that we can hope to do in this world. I want you to remember that feeling, how you felt when Wilhelmina condemned your existence. That is what awaits you if you return here. For magi everywhere, they are hated for what they are, for the mistakes they make through the blessing given to them. Your actions affect more than just yourself.
'And now that you have used your magick, now that your body recognises the natura magica within you, you cannot forget it as you have here. There is no turning back, either you embrace it and learn control, or deny it and let it control you.'
Will felt the sky closing in around him, darkness falling in wisps onto the ground, colouring it like ink flooding water, turning his surroundings to nothingness, leaving only he and Eirian standing untouched.
'This is it, Willow Avaric,' said Eirian in bidding words before he awoke. 'This is the one truth you cannot run from.'