In the castle gardens, Wilhelm plays with fire. Plays more in the sense of an instrument than a toy — he takes it seriously. He's chosen this slice of the garden because of the pond around which the manicured shrubs and one dainty tree gather. That way if something goes wrong as he's juggling a ball of flame around, he has water ready to go.

It used to terrify him, the fire at his fingertips. It was another thing he never asked for, another thing out of his control. Now, it feels like it's his in a way that so few things are.

Less familiar is the weirdly opaque darkness that began to creep out of him unbidden a couple months ago, but Wilhelm is getting acquainted with that too. He's learned how to call it out on purpose, at least. Experimentally, he encloses the flowers in shadows, watches them curl up as if night has fallen. Only he can see through it. To anyone else enjoying the garden, the flower bed simply vanishes in a blob of darkness that can't be explained even by the overcast day.

Around town, he can be found picking up odd jobs for pocket change. Sometimes shopkeepers need an extra hand to unload goods from the carts that pull up in the alley, or they have no time to haul out the overflowing trash. It's not glamorous, heroic work, but it keeps him busy for a little while, and more importantly it puts some coins in his purse.