《Letter From Oblivion (Old Version)》


 A letter From Oblivion, and Dinner

    Letter from Oblivion


    My name is Reiland, and I am a magician. Magic is a word that may not be familiar to you, depending on the Universe, Time and Place you are currently reading this in. I do not even know if someone is ever gonna find and read this, but judging from that you, dear Reader, are doing so at this very moment, I guess it was found.


    I also highly doubt that you, who is reading this, would normally be familiar with both my language and my alphabetic characters. I attached a magic translation device at the end for this reason. The fact that you read and comprehend this sentence is proof enough that it worked (which was only to be expected) and that you were able to figure out how to use it. Congratulations!


    You may want to know why I went through the ordeal of and wrote a Book in this rather uncommon way. As of the moment I am writing this, I am stuck in a dark, vast space.


    As to why I am stuck here, the short answer is that it was my fault for not being cautious enough. The long answer, however, is that with my immense Genius, my inability to understand Human emotions and the inability to reflect on my deeds I made a lot of powerful enemies.


    It is unlikely that I will be able to escape this space in my lifetime. Do not worry though, Reader, I am not asking you to do anything to help me. There is nothing you could do anyway. The sole reason why I am writing this is because I do not want my story to be forgotten. Also, I do not really have anything else to do, and I am unbelievably bored. Because of that, I will write down the story of my life. Even though it may not be a very long one, a lot of interesting, sad and happy, cruel and good things happened along the way.


    I may as well introduce myself properly this time. My name is Reiland Mutazio, even though the second name is not given by birth, but acquired with a lot of effort. When I still inhabited the World I was born in, I was a revolutionary, yet despised researcher in the magic arts, a magician.


    A magician, is a person who uses magic energy to achieve changes in the world. Magic energy is an energy form innate to our planet, and for itself, it normally does not interact with matter. Due to its nature however, it is highly capable of changing into other energy forms, and can be inspired to do so by intelligent creatures at will. My research on this nature brought the world I lived in great understanding of it, and as a result the arts of magic manipulation evolved rapidly.


    But, it is very possible that in your world, reader, magic does not exist. In the dark space, known as Oblivion, it does not. This makes using it exceedingly difficult. Still, I am able to do it with limitations, and this is one of the reasons why my research was considered so great yet so heretical.


    The fact that I am so limited turns sending this letter through time, space and universe into an even trickier thing than it would normally be.


    As of now, it is safe to say that I am a magician. However, I was not born one, because nobody is. The aptitude to learn magic is innate, however. There are people who have access to all magic energy there is in the world, and all of them are selfish idiots. I had to work hard for my success, even if my great intellect gave me quite the advantage, and I did it.


    This is the story I am going to tell you.


    7 years, Home. Dinner


    ¡°Rei, come back home soon!¡± I hear a voice calling me. I sigh, wipe my knife clean of blood and put it back into the sheath. A frog lies before me, gutted. A pastime of mine is cutting open animals I caught and try to understand how they work. This knife is allowing me to do so, and I am very fond of it. I got it last spring, it was a present from my father. He told me that he bought it, but I think he just found it on the street when the snow melted down. It is obvious that he does not have the money to buy a knife like that.


    Still, I am grateful. I stash the frog and its innards in a small cloth pouch hanging from my waist, and return to our shed. My family is poor, and a dirty shed is all we can afford. Its roof is old, and got patched a lot of times. The door creaks, and my mother smiles at me. It was a smile unique to her, nobody else looks at me like this. The most people think I am weird, a psychopath or something. They do not understand why I do what I do, their scientific spirit is lacking. On a small stove, an even smaller pot made out of cheap metal is being filled with water, some mushrooms and herbs.


    ¡°Stew again, I see. Can you make use of that?¡± I open my pouch, and get the frog out.


    ¡°What did you do to that frog?¡± my mother asked, probably curious how it got into this condition.


    ¡°I cut the front open, to see how it works. There were some pulsing things, but that stopped rather soon. It also was a bit hard to see, as there was a lot of blood. My theory is that the pulsing of those innards have something to to with the frogs vital functions.¡± I state my results dryly, but my mothers smile seems to twist a bit.


    ¡°Ah, sorry I asked, Rei. You know, please spare me the details. Anyway, I actually will be able to put that frog into my stew. Thanks for catching it, Rei. You did well.¡± I do not really understand the fuzz that she makes about my experiments with animals. We are going to eat them anyway, and the meat quality does not suffer if you inspect the organs first, does it?


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    I also make other kind of experiments. In the last months, I tried to figure out what exactly warmth is, and where it comes from. I was at least moderately successful, if I may say so. Before that, I made a lot of research regarding why things move as they do. Why do things fall down if you let them lose? How comes that stones can destroy things if you throw them at something, but not if you touch something with them? Every time I asked my parents about those things, the answers they gave me were all but satisfying.


    ¡°What are you going to put in this stew?¡±, I asked, half out of curiosity, half to get my mother to stop making that twisted look.


    ¡°Oh, some forest mushrooms, and some herbs to give it some taste. Water from the well, of course. In addition the meat you just brought in.¡° We have stew quite often. We got the privilege of unlimited water access due to the well that is in the middle of our village. It is not poisoned, there are no feces in it, and you can even drink from it without treating it first. The villages only guard makes absolutely sure that it stays this way, too. If he caught someone pouring garbage into it, he would hack his hands off. As water is the most important ingredient for stew, we eat stew. It is as easy as that.


    It was evening when my father returned. At daytime, he works wherever there is work to do. He does not have a safe workplace, but he helps where there is payment. It is only a rather small village we live in, so it is not that much work, but as he is the only person who tries to work like this, it is enough to make a living, but not quite a killing. I suspect that some people only hire him because they pity us.


    I sit outside, on the ground, and a big stone lays in front of me. The frogs organs lie spread out on its surface and I try to get further information about them. I did not notice my father, even as he approaches me from behind and watches over my shoulder as I cut one of the organs open. A fly, half-digested, is stuck in there. ¡°So this is where the food goes... I wonder if every animal has something like that?¡±, I mumble.


    ¡°Hello, Son.¡± I turn my head around, and look at my father.


    ¡°What are you doing there?¡± he asks, taking peeks on the innards scattered on the stone.


    ¡°You want to know? I just now figured out where the things animals eat go, after they are swallowed. Its this thing right here!¡± I poke the thing- a stomach- with my knife.


    ¡°Ah, yeah. I suppose you got this bloody mess from an animal you caught? What kind of animal was it?¡±


    ¡°A frog.¡±, I state the facts. It is forgivable to no recognize it in this state.


    My father sticks his nose into the air. ¡°Ah, it''s frog stew that I can smell, then. Well, we haven''t had stew in a long time, right?¡±


    ¡°Actually, we had stew yesterday. Are you getting old, father?¡± Of course he has other things to remember as well, but since we have stew basically every day, he should at least remember that much.


    My father smirks. ¡°Yes, that is probably it. Watch out, Reiland, your father is turning senile before you know it!.¡± I want to ask him what he means by that, but he already turned around and went into the shed.


    ¡°Rei! Dinner is ready!¡± I am pretty much finished dissecting everything anyway.


    ¡°Give me a minute!¡± I scrape the innards onto a leaf, and take them over to the piling garbage behind our shed. After that, I run to the door, and go inside. It''s not a very spacious room, and the only one in the shed. It doubles down as a kitchen, eating room and bedroom. We all sit around a small table, with a wooden bowl of hot stew in front of everyone.


    ¡°Thank you for this food, oh gracious Lord.¡±, my parents say, while I mumble along. I do not quite get it - why thank someone for our Food, when he did not give it to us? My father worked for it, and my mother cooked it. I do not even have evidence that this great lord exists. I think he is a charlatan, who somehow got people to worship him. But the one time I said this to my parents, they got angry, so I kept to myself this time. The stew was one of the worst ones we had in a while. It was far from inedible, but even further from being a joy.


    ¡°Next time you maybe should hunt a different animal than a frog, right, Reiland?¡± my father said.


    ¡°Why? The stew is alright. Isn''t, mom? Even though I knew he was right, it still was a frog that I caught. That was not something a could simply agree with. I do not usually make mistakes, and if I do one, it''s usually the mistake of others to view it as an mistake.


    ¡°Well, the frog Rei caught certainly adds an unique charm to it, doesn''t it darling?¡± As expected, mother jumps in to my aid.


    My father grins, it is dawning upon him what game is played here. ¡°Of course, Honey. Don''t worry, Reiland, next time I wont question you culinary choice. Still, maybe you want to bring us joy with something different of a frog?¡±


    ¡°I think I can agree with that, father.¡± Like that, the situation is settled. ¡°I will go to sleep now.¡±, I say, and follow. It was not a very comfortable bed, nothing more than a straw mattress with a thin blanket to warm oneself. It was far better than the dirt floor, however. As always in the evening, I reflect on my newfound knowledge to make sense out of it. I did so quite a while, until I suddenly heard my parents change topic from the usual banter.


    ¡°He is an unusual boy, our Rei.¡± My mother abruptly changed the topic, they spoke about stew recipes only seconds before.


    ¡°He sure is.¡±, my father replied. They must think I fell asleep long ago.


    ¡°He is unbelievable, I do not understand a word of what he says half the time. I don''t think he is fit for the life in the Village. Our Boy could do so much more!¡±


    ¡°You''re right. But what could we possibly do about it? There is no school in this village, even if there were, he would know everything before even visiting it. A village school couldn''t teach Reiland a thing! Hiring a tutor is out of the question. I mean, look at us, we are living in a one room shed! We do not have that kind of money. He is so smart, it is almost scary at times. He would have to go to an academy. But we don''t have the money for that either, not the means to get him there. Even if, he is only seven years old, far too young! You have never seen a seven-year old like him, have you?¡±


    ¡°Obviously not.¡±


    ¡°Me neither, wife, me neither.¡±


    ¡°I just wish he would make some friends. I mean sure, he does look happy doing what he does, but is he not a bit lonely?¡±


    ¡°You may be right. He is not the social type.¡±


    Well, it is not that I never tried to approach other children. But when I did, they mostly ran away, and even if they didn''t, they would share any of their research, and only look around dumb when I tell them of mine. But its their loss, after all. I can work alone just fine. I decide to sleep for today, I seem to have heard the most important part of their conversation.


    Dream 1


    That night, I dreamed of frogs. They where even larger than the ones we have here, almost as large as pigs. They seemed upset about something, but I could not figure out what is was. Suddenly, they turned really angry, and tried to jump at me. I ran away, deep into the forest, when I suddenly hit my head on a tree branch, and everything is black. I am in a dark room. I do not know where upside and down is, but I do not care. It feels cold, but in a rather refreshing way. I let my consciousness slip away.

 7 Years, Village outskirts. Research

    7 Years, Village outskirts. Research


    When I woke up, my father was already gone, and my mother was still asleep. It is not that she is a long sleeper, but I am an early riser, and my father even more so.


    He has to in order to get as many jobs as possible out of the day. My mother however is going into the into the nearby Woods at day, to collect firewood, plants, mushrooms and other useful or valuable stuff. Once she is done with that, she visits the village''s small marketplace, and sells what we do not need. It is not much, but its honest work that helps us make a tiny bit more money.


    She cannot go into the Forest until the Sun has fully risen however, as it can be quite dangerous with the nocturnal carnivorous animals that inhabit it.


    Today, I decided to research ballistic curves of stones, and their force a bit further. I already found out how, if you throw a stone in the same angle with the same force, it almost ever flies the same, except for if there is wind or other disturbances. That of course only applies to the same stone, and for different sizes there are different flight curves.


    Sadly, the stones that I can throw are rather limited, as my Body is only 7 Years old. I have to get my father to help me and throw around some boulders soon.


    A hollow tree stump a small distance outside the village''s entrance is my is my research partner (practice target). I collected several equally big and heavy stones, so that I would not have to retrieve them after every throw. After marking a position on the ground, I buckle up and throw a stone.


    Miss. Power was too low, too much to the left as well. Another one.


    Miss. Power still too low, but better this time. I adjusted too much to the left, and the stone landed right of the trunk. Another one.


    Hit. Power was sufficient, but the angle was too low to hit the top and have the stone fall inside. I adjust the angle. Another one.


    Miss. The power that was right last throw was too much now. The stone sailed further, right in the direction of a traveler I did not notice before.


    Crap.


    Suddenly, the traveler shouted something, and a Light appeared around his wrist.


    ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG NULL¡» !


    The stone''s velocity dropped in an instant. It hovered in the air for half a second, and then dropped.


    What?


    ¡°Are you out of your mind, kid? What are you lobbing stones around for? That would have hit me, had I not done something!¡± The traveler approaches me, visibly enraged.


    He is not too old, probably not older than 24. He is wearing a brown robe, and some crude glasses. He also wears a strange bracelet, the one that lit up when he made this weird shout.


    ¡°I did not notice you, you were irrelevant for my experiment. Why did you interfere?¡±


    ¡°I interfered, you say? Do you have a screw loose, kid? You threw a stone at me, that was what it was!¡±


    ¡°I did not throw the stone at you, I just threw it into the direction you happened to be in. Were you unable to see that I conducted scientific research?¡±


    ¡°Hell, what are you even talking about? You sure are a nosy brat. What are you even doing here?¡±


    I was thinking about not telling him, as he called me a nosy brat, but the urge to share my research was stronger. ¡°I tried to figure out the ballistic angle and force I need to throw a stone into this hollow trunk every time.¡±


    The traveler looked dumbfounded. ¡°So you tried to get good at throwing stones?¡±


    ¡°No, I already told you. I tried to figure out how to throw a stone to perfectly hit this trunk every time, without even looking at it.¡±


    ¡°You don''t sound your look, kid. What happened with ditching stones over the water?¡±


    The travelers initial rage seems to have cooled of, so I decided to take advantage to gain more information about what he did to stop the stone.¡°That''s boring, I already understood the principle behind that half a year ago. So, what did you do to interfere in my experiment? I did not see your hand move. How does that work? I''ve never seen something like that.¡±


    ¡°I simply used magic?¡±


    ¡°You are not taking this seriously, are you? Look, every other seven-year old would be in awe by such a mystic answer. Everyone keeps telling me about magic, thinking I am a fool, just because I am young. Honestly, I am sick of it. Please give me an appropriate answer.¡±


    ¡°Listen here, kid. You sure are full of yourself. You are not normal, that much I can see. But it was the truth, I used magic to stop the stone, projectile stopping magic, to be exact.¡±


    ¡°You are kidding me.¡± I sighed. It is always the same with adults. I decided to just collect my stones, and proceed my research.


    That did not sit right with the traveler. He watched me collect my stones, and throwing them again.


    I do not mind. Being observed does not change the result of the experiment, after all.


    After five minutes, I had the perfect angle and power figured out. Now, four out of five stones went inside the trunk, and the rest was not my fault, but the fault of my body.


    I looked over to the traveler, with a triumphant look on my face. He is obviously interested in what I am doing, he seems to have noticed that I was not only playing with stones. Maybe, there is redemption for him after all.


    Next stone. Angle, check. Power, check. Go!


    ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»


    I heard the Traveler mumble something, and the stone accelerated mid-air, flying a good hundred meters further into the field, leaving a dust cloud where it landed. I turn around, the traveler wears a smug expression on his face. His Bracelet was still glowing faintly. Maybe I should switch focus from trajectories to the trunk to trajectories to a certain travelers face.


    ¡°Do you believe me now?¡±, he asked. He was obviously satisfied with himself.


    ¡°I am no fool who does not trust his own eyes. Please, show me something of the principle that you call ¡°Magic¡±.¡± He showed me something that I could not ignore, a way to ignore the laws of physic that I found out only over a long time. The first time, it could have been just that my eyes played tricks on me, and he simply caught the stone with his hands. But this time, it was undeniable that he did something that I could not explain to myself. Should that magic exist, that would mean that all the people had not lied to me in this aspect, and that was a possibility I could not ignore.


    ¡°If you are begging me like that, I guess I could spend an hour of my time explaining a kid things about the high art of magic. Oh man, how did I even get here...¡± He said, but showed no real annoyance.


    I guess he really likes explaining stuff to people he deems intellectually inferior. That is something we have in common, even though I do not really like experiencing it from this side.


    I sat down next to him, looking at him with my head tilted.


    ¡°First of all, give me your name. Having to call you ¡°kid¡± every time, it''s a bit annoying.¡±


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    ¡°Reiland.¡±


    ¡°Fine, Reiland. Magic, you see, is an art that allows us to achieve our goals. That much is clear to you?¡±


    ¡°I gue-¡± Without waiting for my answer, he proceeds. Seriously, this man bugs me. But, he has interesting things to tell, so I will keep quiet.


    ¡°Magic is working over magic spells. Spell like the one I used to stop or accelerate the stone.¡±


    ¡°Like this?¡± I said, throwing a stone away. ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»


    The stone flew exactly like it should have, and landed on the ground a few meters ahead.


    ¡°Oh, you remembered that? Well, it was correct. But the incantation is not all there is to using magic. You also need this thing right here.¡± He brandishes his Bracelet. ¡°This is a magic adapter bracelet. There are other forms as well, but they all work the same. You really never have seen one before? Well, they are only used by magicians, after all. Probably magicians don''t come here very often.¡±


    He looks around, as if only now realizing that he is deep in the boonies.


    ¡°Well, this adapter listens to one''s voice, and interprets the chants you make. With it, they work, but to be honest, I do not really know how. They aren''t teaching that at the academy. ¡±


    ¡°So you do not really need this bracelet?¡±


    ¡°Well, there are some people who can do it without, but that''s really rare, and requires Mastery. Chants are built from different words in chant language, and once you know them, you can structure them into chants to achieve results at will. It is way easier, and can be done by practically anyone. With something that convenient, why bother learning doing it the hard way? In addition, from what I heard even grand masters are only able to use the most basic spells adapterless.¡±


    ¡°Who developed this device? When? And how did people use magic before?¡±


    ¡°You sure are asking some good questions. The sad answer is, I don''t know. The blueprints for it are kept secret by the magic guild, which also runs the academy, and only finished products are for sale, and only for people that join the guild. But nobody knows who developed them, and when. That obsoletes the third question, too. But the chant and the device is not all there is to casting magic. Your body also needs to be able to use magic. Without that ability, all magic adapters in the world cannot help you. This ability is innate, either you have it or you don''t.¡±


    ¡°What is more common, then?¡±


    ¡°Most people are able to use magic energy at least to a certain degree, actually there are very few who have no aptitude at all. Still, even if you able to use magic, it is not guaranteed to be very much. Depending on this factor, your magic spells would be more or less effective.¡±


    ¡°I hate to admit it, but that is pretty amazing.¡± I still was a bit skeptical of all this, but if this guy is making it all up at this point, he is a skilled liar at least.


    The Traveler seems to have made up his mind, and pulls a small trinket out of his pocket. ¡°Would you like to try?¡±


    I can not quite believe my ears. A broad grin distorts the edges of my mouth. ¡°Yes, I suppose so.¡±


    ¡°Well, then. Look here: This is the same technology as in the bracelet. You have to stick this needle into your body. It works as a connection, It''s the same for the bracelet. It may hurt a bit, but long-time users will get used to it.¡± It looks like a small disk, with a wire emerging from it. At the tip of this wire there is a small needle, as he said. The traveler strips the trinket to his hand, and hands over the needle.


    ¡°Does it matter where I stick to?¡± He shakes his head. ¡°Let me just recover my stones. I need something to try it on after all. I do so, except for the one that flew far into the fields. No point searching it, it would take too much time. Also, I really want to try it out. I decide to stick it into my upper arm. A few blood drops gush out, but I do not mind it.


    ¡°Okay now. You already remembered the stone acceleration formulae. If you want to hear it again anyway, tell me. Now, what you should do is throw a stone like you did before. No incantation this time, please.¡±


    He probably wants to compare the distance with and without magic assistance. I do as he told me. As expected, the stone flies normally, and hits the trunk with a small wooden clank.


    ¡°Okay, . Now, please use the incantation. Depending on when you use it, it will have different effects. Know that it will take effect as soon as you finish the chant.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± I ready another stone, and begin to chant. ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»


    Just before I finish the last word, I throw the stone. An unknown feeling runs through my body, unlike everything I felt prior. The stone accelerates, and flies further than before. This is magic, without a doubt.


    ¡°Good three times as far... That is not a terribly high magic coefficient. It is definitely below average. But, for a first timer it is not bad. While the coefficient is innate, it can also be trained to a certain degree. But you cannot hope to ever match the standard magician who already trained to his full capacity, I fear.¡±


    He surely was direct in his words, this man. I do not dislike that, but in this case, it is a bitter pill. Suddenly, an idea crosses my mind. ¡°Why not cast the spell multiple times? Would that do any good?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes and no. Technically, you can do so, but you can only use magic on things that are relatively close too you. It gives you a good 25 meters for an object you previously touched though.¡±


    ¡°What if I take a stone like this, ¡° I take a stone into my hand, and swing it in circles. ¡° and then use the chant several times?¡±


    ¡°That would not work. First, as long as the stone is in your hand, it is not a projectile, therefore it would not accelerate. But even if you adjust the spell, I would not recommend doing it. Human bodies are not fit for such movements, it could seriously injure you. Would you use a sling, however, you''d probably be able to get some pretty remarkable speed out of it. It is a good idea.¡±


    A thought crosses my mind. Without even asking, I throw it in a high angle at the direction of the tree trunk. ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»! The stone accelerates, and is on it best way to just sail over it. However,


    ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG NULL¡»! The stone stops. Floating in the air, around 20 meters exactly over the trunk. Then it falls. ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»! It accelerates. ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»! It accelerates even further, halfway down to earth. The mysterious feeling intensifies with every chant. One more time. ¡ºSTEIN PROJEKTIL BEWEGUNG HOCH¡»! The stone is so fast now you can hear it. With a loud bang, it impacts on the side of the trunk, and breaks large splinters out of it. I turn around, and look at the magician. He has a shocked expression.


    ¡°Wow. I don''t even have words for that... Let me retrieve that.¡± He picks the needle out of my arm. Too bad, but at least I got the opportunity to use it to some extend. I suppose I now wont be able to make experiments with this new, exciting magic anymore... ¡°To be honest, that was the first time I saw someone using it like that... It had firepower rivaling at least my single cast, maybe even besting it. That is not something you could simply explain with three individual casts of that level. I think it is time I introduce myself, Reiland. My name is Arstibal, and I am, that much you probably figured out already, a magician. My job is to wander through the lands and check the magic potential of people. If I find someone with extraordinary high magic coefficient, I give them an invitation for the magic academy... Most of the time, that is fruitless, though. Really high coefficients are exceptionally rare.¡±


    I see. That is how it is. That at least explains why he had time to sit down with a stranger, a seven-year old nonetheless, and talk about magic. Also, magic academy, huh. That would be interesting, actually.


    ¡°Believe me, if I could, I would give you one on the spot. For someone to be able to use magic with this creativity, it is very rare. Sadly, that is not what my superiors are up too. Most magicians seem to think that the magic coefficient is the only thing that separates good from bad magicians. Your magic coefficient is average, at best. Also, we have to take your age into account. How old are you even? Five? Six?¡±


    ¡°Seven. And I believe I already implied that.¡± Five? For what does he take me? Anyway, his main point does not change with my exact age. My body is definitely too young. It annoys me more and more every day.


    ¡°Oh, did you? Maybe. But listen here. I will return in seven years. If you want to become a magician by then, I will do everything I can to get you an invitation. Fourteen would be no abnormal age for that. If you don''t want to enroll there by then, that''s fine as well. But if you did... I''d expect great things.¡±


    Seriously, why is he making such a fuzz? All I did was destroy this tree trunk using combined physics and magic. He could have done that by magic alone, with a single chant. That is far more impressing. ¡°I think that you could have achieved the same result I had with less effort, Arstibal.¡±


    ¡°Well, true. But that is not quite my point... Anyway, that was enough for this time. Just keep my offer in mind.¡±


    Like that, he went off, to the village. I proceeded to throw stones at the trunk, but I felt something was off. It just did not feel like before. I sighed, and collected the stones. If I ever continue this, I wont have to search new ones. After that, I returned to the village, and the shed, heavily lost in thoughts about the new world that just now opened before me.

 7 Years, Central Village. Magic Coefficient

    7 Years, Central Village. Magic Coefficient


    This day, I slept unusually long. My mother was still at home, but on the verge of leaving.


    ¡°Good morning, Rei. Up so late?¡±


    I decide not to answer, as the answer should be obvious.


    ¡°Anyway, have you heard? There is a magician in the village today. He''s conducting some sort of testing, he announced that yesterday. I heard it when I sold gatherings on the market. Are you interested?¡±


    ¡°I already knew that, and I am only moderately interested. I already know what the result is going to be anyway.¡±


    There is no need to reaffirm what became apparent yesterday, it would only be a waste of time.


    ¡°Confident as always, I see. Well, I think you should give it a try anyway. Would be nice to see proof that Rei''s magic power is one in a million!¡±


    Maybe I should have told my parents that I already met Arstibal? They told me not to talk about my research after all, so I kept quiet yesterday.


    ¡°Well, I''ll be going now. Have fun!¡± My mother says, cheerful as always, and leaves. I simply nod.


    After relieving myself, I head to the marketplace. I do not have anything better to do, after all. It could be interesting to take a peek at what the other villagers have as their coefficient.


    A crowd already assembled here, around half of the villages residents are present. I do not see my father, which only makes sense. Arstibal notices me, and I think seeing a faint smile hushing over his face.


    ¡°My name, ladies and gentlemen, is Arstibal. I am a magician on behalf of the magic academy.¡±


    He pulls a badge-like object out of one of his numerous pockets. I do not recognize it, but some people in the crowd seem to do. Apparently, it is the thing that marks you as a magician.


    ¡°The academy does not differentiate on the basis of old-fashioned values like appearance, heritage and sex. No, anybody remarkably talented and the money to pay the fees can enroll! But for those who are especially talented, there is the possibility of scholarships. This talent is measured in the so-called magic coefficient. It is an easy procedure, and should not take longer than ten minutes a person. But before I start with the tests, who is even willing to get tested?¡±


    Roughly a third of the people present raise their hands. I refrain from doing so.


    ¡°You can always change your decision as long as I am here. I will first show it to you, so you can see it is harmless.¡± He pulls two objects out of his pocket. One of them I recognize, it is the magic adapter I used yesterday. The other one is unfamiliar: A round, flat object. It is white, like a porcelain plate I once saw on the market, and has a spiral pattern on one side. On the outside of each spiral wind, unknown characters are placed. It now bugs me that I am not able to read and write. If I am correct and this is the measurement device, those characters probably mark magic coefficients. In the middle, there is a hollow spot and filled with a silvery liquid.


    ¡°If a person holds this device and chants a specific spell, the magic coefficient will be displayed. That means, everybody who wants to take the test is going to chant a simple magic spell! Do not worry, I am sure you all can do it. Now, I will show you how it is done!¡ºQUECKSILBER TEMPERATUR HOCH¡»!¡±


    His bracelet starts glowing, and the silvery liquid starts to rise, following the spiral pattern. It continues to rise for half a second, and then stops. The crowd starts mumbling, but quickly stops when Arstibal takes word again.


    ¡°That is a coefficient of one-hundred and forty! Now, a few words to what this value means. A value of hundred is total average. The farther you stray from this average, the harder it gets to score in the positive, or lose points in the negative direction. Therefore, a point from one-hundred to one-hundred and one is much easier to acquire than a point from one-hundred and thirty to one-hundred and thirty-one. That might sound very high, but it is the trained value. My untrained value was something around one-hundred and twenty. That is not very high, after all. Should one of you have such a value like my current value innate, or should it be even higher, It is reason enough to give this person an invitation to magic academy. Whether this person accepts or declines then, it is up to them. Well, lets get started! Who wants to go first?¡±


    I look over the crowd. Most of it are adults, expect for two children with reddish hair. I think they are the mayors children. One of them, a boy, is violently raising his hands. His sister seems not all too eager to do it, and tries to keep her brother down. I would guess she is around fourteen years old, while her brother is around ten, or maybe eleven.


    ¡°You there! Boy! What''s your name?¡± Arstibal points at the boy.


    ¡°Brian! It is Brian!¡± the boy says, his eyes seemingly sparkling. Why can he not behave normal? He is embarrassing himself.


    ¡°Great, Brian! Would you like to make the first test?¡± Arstibal does not seem to be annoyed at the boys over-enthusiasm.


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°Well, come over here, then.¡± After the boy walked over to him, Arstibal showed the crowd and him the magic adapter. ¡°This thing is called a magic adapter. It works just the same as my bracelet, allowing you all to chant the testing spell. But first, you have to memorize it. I have to make sure that everyone who casts is chanting it right. A spelling mistake would likely just lead to failure, but there also is a chance of something unwanted to happen. Do not worry, though. Should you actually chant it wrong when you are tested, I will interfere and stop the process. Your safety is guaranteed.¡±


    The boy starts memorizing the chant, but is incredibly slow in doing so. It takes him almost ten minutes until he satisfies Arstibal. An unbelievable time, considering he only had to learn three simple words. I had memorized them after the first time I heard Arstibal chant the spell.


    ¡°To make this adapter work, you have to connect it with your body, using this needle. Just a prick into the fingertip will suffice, even though there are savages who prefer straight up ramming it into their arm... ¡° This guy, could he not have told me that earlier? Ah well, it does not matter.


    ¡°Don''t worry, the needle is clean. Can you do it, Brian?¡± The boy nods, and mumbles something that could have been ¡°Yes...¡±. He is awfully pale in the face. Hesitantly, he grabs the needle, and after holding it for a few seconds, he pricks the tip of his index finger. Once this is done, he starts chanting, crudely, but correct: ¡°¡ºQUECKSILBER TEMPERATUR HOCH¡»!¡±


    The pocket adapter still held by Arstibal starts glowing, and the boy made a triumphant face. Should he not wait for that until he sees the result? Simply chanting it right is no witchcraft, when even an imbecile can do it. ¡°130! Not bad, Brian. That is actually pretty high. It wont be enough to give you an invitation, though.¡± The boy looks a bit taken aback. But what did he expect? He is not the protagonist of some fairy tale. Even then, his score was high, according to Arstibal. This is probably the difference between talent and pure coefficient. Arstibal receives the needle from the boy, and cleans it with some sort of cloth.


    ¡°So, who still wants to take the test?¡± Everyone present raises their hands, safe for me. But all people who just were here to have some fun already left due to nothing spectacular happening for such a long time, so only one third of the original crowd is still present. He picked a random Villager whose face I did not recognize, and whose name I forgot the instant he said it. Luckily, he was a bit faster with learning the chant, but his values were the definition of average.


    This repeated round about seven times, with similar results, until the only ones left standing on the marketplace were Arstibal, the red-haired siblings, and me.


    ¡°So, young lady. What is your name?¡±


    ¡°My name is Ione.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Ione. A good name. You know the procedure?¡±


    ¡°I think I figured it out by now. ¡ºQUECKSILBER TEMPERATUR HOCH¡»it was, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, that''s right. Very well, you seem to know the drill. Here!¡± Arstibal hands her the needle, and she sticks it into the back of her left hand. Not bad. That way, it will hurt a bit more, but when handling stuff, it is not as annoying as a prick into the finger. She also is not so hesitant about it like her brother. She then chants the spell, and the liquid rises again inside of the spiral.


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    ¡°115... That''s far from bad, young lady. I see some potential, but it really is not enough to give you an invitation. Sorry about that.¡± He looks like that truly bothers him. Either he is really feeling his job, or he wants to give people a good opinion of him.


    ¡°I wouldn''t have accepted it anyway. I can''t simply leave my little brother alone, after all.¡±


    ¡°Hey, sister? What is that about? I am old enough to watch myself!¡± Being belittled did not sit right with the boy.


    The girl simply ignores him. ¡°Anyway, thanks for the attempted consolation.¡±


    ¡°Don''t mind it. Anyway, is there anybody left who wants to and has not gotten tested yet?¡± He notices me, still standing there, in the shadow of an old tree. ¡°Hey, Reiland! What about you?¡±


    I juxtapose running away and taking the test, and after a quick thought I decide for the latter. The people present would see my low coefficient, but only Arstibal and the siblings were here, so I deemed it to be okay. I dislike the thought of having the brother see it, but I think I can live with it.


    ¡°You know this weirdo''s name?¡± The red-haired boy asked, sounding surprised. He is one to talk.


    ¡°Yes, I happened to meet him in the front of the village yesterday. What about it?¡±


    ¡°He is... weird... he tortures animals...¡±


    What did he say? I torture them? That is simply not true. I look at their inner life to gain more knowledge about them. How would that classify as torturing?


    ¡°Oh, please. You exaggerate. Sure, Reiland does not behave like someone his age, and has an unusual way of thinking about things, but accusing him of torture? That is going too far.¡± His mellow expression grew more serious in an instant.


    ¡°But he does-¡± ¡°Stop it, little brother. Let''s not take that here.¡± The red-haired sister stepped in. Maybe I should start remembering her name? Right, it was Ione. I really dislike her brother, though.


    ¡°I think I don''t have to explain it to you, Reiland?¡± Arstibal says while handing me the needle.


    ¡°No, I do not think so.¡± I answer while demonstratively ramming the needle into my upper arm. The shocked expression on the boys face is worth it.


    ¡°You really don''t need to do it like that, though....¡± Arstibal wears a pained expression.


    ¡°Why? It works all the same, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose... go ahead, then.¡±


    ¡°¡ºQUECKSILBER TEMPERATUR HOCH¡»¡±, I mumble. The adapter starts to glow in the usual blue, and this strange feeling of energy flows through my body again. It feels like I would stretch my muscles again after a long sleep. However, as soon as the feeling emerges, it begins to fade already. I try to grasp it, but fail to.


    ¡°73... Well, a number in this range was to be expected.¡± Arstibal was not really surprised, and neither was I.


    ¡°Haha-¡± the boy bursts out in laughter, only to be reprimanded by Ione. He quickly ceases.


    Arstibal reaches out to retrieve the needle, but I stop his hand. ¡°I want to try one more time. Please.¡± Arstibal sighs. He hesitates.


    ¡°Sore looser much?¡± The red-haired brother taunts. This time, Ione stays quiet.


    As if this gave him a push, Arstibal says: ¡°Sure. Don''t expect anything to change, though. Wait a second.¡± ¡ºQUECKSILBER TEMPERATUR UMGEBUNG¡»After he chants that, the meter drops down rapidly. ¡°Only one more time, though.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I nod, and begin to chant. ¡ºQUECKSILBER TEMPERATUR HOCH¡»!


    As soon as the feeling emerges, I try to grasp it, and keep this newfound muscle of mine flexed. I succeed, but after half a second passed, it grows increasingly difficult. I manage to hold it for one and a split second, but it slips through my fingers after that. I open my eyes, only now realizing that I had them closed. A thin sweat film covers my face, my arms and my legs.


    ¡°84... You increa- no, wait a second. It still rose further after the adapter stopped glowing... Continued Casting? What in... ¡° Arstibal is standing there, once again absolutely dumbfounded.


    ¡°That should settle it.¡± I said, and plucked the needle out of my arm. I enjoyed the look the brother had on his face for a second, and then turned to leave. ¡°He is still lower than mine anyway!¡±, I heard the brother say, albeit quietly.


    ¡°Wait a second, Reiland.¡± Arstibal shouts after me, he seemed to have regained his composure. ¡°Is it possible from me to speak your parents?¡± I turn around. The red-haired boy has a really sour look on his face now. Ione, noticing it, drags him off.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Is it possible?¡±


    ¡°I suppose so... Only in a few hours, however. They still are gone, working.¡±


    ¡°That''s okay, waiting is alright with me. Is that possible at your place?¡±


    ¡°It is, if you really want so. Follow me.¡±


    ¡°Just wait a minute, I''ll pack my things.¡±


    A few minutes later, we stand in front of my family''s shed. We sit down, and wait. Arstibal seems a bit surprised about the conditions we live in. He asks me a lot of questions, such as if I got any education, what my parents jobs are, If I ever had contact to magic before, and much more. I did not understand why he was asking those questions, but I answered, maybe a bit cynical at times, but honest, and the hours passed. My mom came back, her gathering basket firmly attached to her back. She notices me and Arstibal, and waves.


    ¡°Hello, Rei! You are waiting for me? That''s sweet! Also, who is this man? Isn''t he the magician who is in the village today?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that is me. My name is Arstibal, and I''m pleased to make your acquaintance, mother of Reiland.¡± Arstibal seems to like being recognized, and takes the initiative of speaking to my mother.


    ¡°Oh, my name is Iuli, pleased to make your acquaintance!¡± While saying this, she giggles a bit. Could mother not behave normal, at least in front of other people? If we are alone, it is fine, but other people could think that we are weird. Anyway, she seems to be very excited about Arstibal visiting. ¡°Now, has Rei some unbelievable hidden potential? I knew it all along, our little boy is something special!¡±


    Arstibal smirks. ¡°Well, he is something special, that much I can say. Let us talk about that in detail, shall we?¡±


    ¡°But of course! Let''s sit down in the living room, we have some water, if you''re thirsty-¡± Mother is on the verge of offering Arstibal all kinds of stuff, but he interrupts her.


    ¡°Sounds great! However, Reiland, would you maybe let me talk to your mother alone?¡±


    I do not know what they are talking about that I am not supposed to hear, but I nod. Mother will tell me everything about it later, anyway.


    ¡°If that is so, let me go get my knife. I will search something for dinner today.¡± Might as well, if am not supposed to be around for a while. After retrieving it out of the shed, I leave for the forest.


    On the way, I meet my father.


    ¡°Hey, son! Isn''t it a bit late to go hunting? Sun is gonna set before soon!¡±


    ¡°I know, but I still have around two hours. That should suffice. Mother is talking to Arstibal, and apparently I am not supposed to hear it. Therefore, I search the forest for something that we can put into a stew today.¡± I want to quickly leave, because my father has a point: The sun is going to set soon, and I need to be out of the forest before that. However,


    ¡°Arstibal? Who is that?¡± my father asks. He does not look concerned at the note of another man talking to her wife.


    ¡°Oh, you do not know? It is the magician that is in town today.¡±


    ¡°Tell me, Reiland, how am I supposed to know his name? I wasn''t there when he did whatever he did on the marketplace. Figures that you would go to him, though. Even if only to disproof his magic.¡± Starting that discussion again? My parents were a bit annoyed when I was still certain that magic did not exist. I am a changed person now, however.


    ¡°Why would I want to disproof something that exists? That does not make sense.¡±


    ¡°So he convinced you? Great! Anyway, I will go and join the conversation. Catch us something good!¡±


    ¡°I would not put it that way...¡± I mumble, but ultimately nod, and we part ways.


    After some search in the woods, I find a squirrel. I think about chasing it, but squirrels are way too fast for me. If I only would be able to use magic now, I could easily shoot it down... Well, if only. Just as I want to turn around and search for something else, I notice that something looks off. The squirrel seems to be limping, and on a closer view, I discover that has a front leg injury. That is my chance, and I take it.


    While being careful of tripping, I charge at the squirrel, and catch it with my hands. It resists, but I quickly unsheathe my knife, and keep cutting his throat until it ceases movement. I look at my hands, they are covered in blood. It is warm, too. Not that it disturbs me, it is just the way things are. I think of dissecting it, but decide against it. While it would be the first squirrel, gathering information about animal bodies does not seem that interesting anymore. I had taken a sip out of the chalice of magic, making everything else taste rather bland in comparison. Therefore I decide to call it a day, and return.


    By coincidence, I meet Arstibal on my way back, leaving in the direction of the central village.


    ¡°Hey, Reiland. I talked to your parent. Nice people. Talk with them about it later, if you want.¡± He looks exhausted. ¡°Also, you caught a... squirrel?¡±


    I take a look at it. It is covered by a crust of blood and mud, already dried. The tail lost all of its fluffiness, and the eyes look deep and empty. ¡°A squirrel.¡± I confirm, while nodding.


    ¡°Is it possible that you don''t know how to kill them properly? It looks like you just stabbed it till it died. And, how did you even catch it? Squirrels are pretty fast.¡±


    ¡°I used magic to accelerate a stone, and smashed his head with it.¡± With this sarcastic statement, I skillfully avoided answering his first question.


    Arstibal releases a gust through is nostrils, and says: ¡°Alright then, keep your secrets. Still, would have been interesting.¡± He obviously did not buy that lie, and I did not expect him to.


    ¡°It just happened to have a leg injury, that is all. It was crippled, and was not able to flee.¡±


    ¡°Ah well, I should have figured.¡± Arstibal suddenly gets serious. ¡°Listen here, Reiland. You may or may not be aware of it, but what you did was unique. I am not talking about the tree you split, that was something else on its own, of course. But what you did today... It was kick-started continued casting. That technique is rare, even under renown magicians. Should you ever decide to walk this path, you will come to know why it is so remarkable. I''ll say it again, if I could, I would give you an academy invitation without a second of doubt. I see that your family is not in a place where they could afford the academy fees. But I have rules to play by, sadly. I will have a talk about you with my mentor, and maybe he will give you a special permit... Until then, try to to make the best out of what I left for you, at your parents house. I would be very grateful if you do not go and show it to everyone, okay?¡± He truly looks upset about the fact he could not take me to the academy right here and right now. Also, he left me something? I guess I will find out what it is once I return home. To his tirade, I only nod, and leave. ¡°Don''t you forget about me, once you are a great magician!¡±, Arstibal shouts.


    ¡°Sure.¡±, I reply, without looking back. Seriously, what is he making such a fuzz about?


    However, magician... That sounds nice. A magician...

 7 years, Forest Clearing. Three months

    7 years, Forest clearing. Three months


    I let my gaze wander over my surroundings. Treetops if I look up, shrubbery if I look down, and wood everywhere else.


    I am sitting on a huge boulder, located in the middle of a forest clearing. This became my favorite spot over the course of the last three months, the time after I had my first contact with magic, and I had to adjust my view on the world.


    But magic ¨C What is that even? I thought a lot about that question. Magic is a way to add energy to things, just by thinking of doing so. But where does that energy come from? I look down on the book in my hands. It is my most precious possession, besting even my treasured knife. It is related to the time I got into contact with magic for the first time: Arstibal, a wandering magician, gave it to my parents for me before he left.


    At that time, I was not able to read. With a lot of effort my father convinced someone in the village to teach me, but in return he had to work for them two weeks. I am grateful that he did so. If not, I would have had to learn it by myself by simply trying to find patterns in the book, and comparing them to what I know about the language itself. It would have worked, but it would have taken a ridiculous amount of time. With someone explaining me the system, it went without problems, however. After roughly three hours of learning the Alphabet and what sounds the characters correlate to, I was able to read very slowly, but without much mistakes.


    I remember two children watching me, the ones who also were present when Arstibal conducted the coefficient tests. They even got both the highest and the third highest value out of all participants. The girl was named Ione, and her brothers name was irrelevant, that much I still know.


    After I said that I was now able to proceed learning it on my own, the lady that taught me was baffled at first, but quickly realized I meant it. My fathers hours were halved, as I comprehended it a lot quicker than they expected. I think that the mayor deeply cares for every Villager, and allowed this rather uncommon deal only for that reason.


    With new-acquired skills, I was finally able to read the books content, and its title: ¡°What Is Magic? - The Basics.¡± Contrary to its title, however, it contains surprisingly few Information on what magic actually is. There is a chapter solely dedicated to the founding of the magic academy, a chapter about basic magic theory and history, and a small Chant Language grammar and vocabulary compendium. There are some more chapters on how to actually chant magic, but naturally, they take the possession of a magic adapter as a given.


    Still, I do not think that one really needs an adapter to use magic. Arstibal said when we first met that there are people who cast magic without the aid of an adapter, but that this is an exceptionally rare skill. I thought a lot about this especially, and came to an conclusion: The reason why so many people are bound to the usage of an adapter is solely that they are only using it, without understanding what magic is, at its core.


    That leads me back to my initial question: What is magic? I found an interesting phenomenon described in the book: Magic exhaustion. According to it, if too many spells are cast in a small area within a short span of time, they loose effectiveness, until magic stops working altogether. If the chanting stops at any point, the effectiveness gradually restores up to the former maximum. Therefore, magic is no unlimited source of energy. My theory based on those facts is that there is a form of energy, which I will call ¡°Magic Energy¡± for the lack of a better name.


    This energy seems to be present anywhere, and we cannot detect or directly interact with it. Yet, we can change it into other energy forms, as movement energy, or heat, and add this energy to objects. This magic energy restores over time after its use, and the consumption seems to be tied to the amount of energy added to objects, therefore someone with a higher coefficient will use it up faster that someone with a rather low one. I do not know how it restores, and decided to research it at a later point in time.


    But first, lets put this all into action, shall we? I flip the book around, revealing a spiral on the back. It is a coefficient meter, the same concept as the one Arstibal had, only simpler and cheaper. The magic coefficient seems to describe the amount of magic energy a person can transform over a specific amount of time. Mine seems to be low, in comparison to the norm... Not that I care about such trivial things. Like I did it all the days before, I try to recall the feeling I had when chanting the measurement spell. That time, the magic adapter forcefully induced it, so everybody was able to do it.


    This time this induction is missing, and I somehow have to cope with that. It is like trying to stretch a muscle with the intention to heat up a fluid. According to the book this fluid is a liquid metal, Mercury, and highly poisonous. Over the past weeks, I made some, but little progress. The temperature of the mercury droplet rises once I concentrate, and this mysterious feeling comes with it. However, it rises only very, very slow, a tiny degree of how it rose when I was aided by the adapter.


    But this time there is no time limit at all, so I can do it for as long as I want. While the change was barely noticeable at the first time, and if not for the feeling, I might have missed it entirely, it was at least visible to the bare eye now. If I concentrate for a few minutes straight, I reach values surpassing the hundred mark. I think that this rate will rise further and further until it approaches the rate it rose when I first used the adapter. Until then, I think the best approach is to just train my magic while thinking about the principles behind it.


    As of now, I never reached the point of magic depletion, even after concentrating for hours straight. The reason for that is obvious: My consumption rate is so low that the regeneration of the magic energy overcomes the depletion. While this means that the effects that I achieve are low, it also means that I can test and train for as long as I want, which is at least one good thing.


    I take a look at the sky. It is cloudy, yet it does not look like it is going to rain. It is afternoon, and since it is Autumn with Winter on the doorstep, the sun is going to set very soon. Again, I sat on this boulder from sunrise to sunset, a common occurrence taking the last weeks and months into perspective.


    A thought crosses my mind: In winter, I would turn eight years, another year closer to adulthood. Having such a frail body annoys me, it is one thing I envy the adults for. I slide of the side of the boulder, the book in my tight grip, and turn homewards. We would be having vegetable stew again today, not the most pleasant meal to come home to. It is partly my fault however, since I did not catch any animal today. Not that I even tried, I was too sunken in thoughts, and busy staring and concentrating on the coefficient meter.


    While passing through the rather thick forest, I think about the change that my life underwent. Had I not discovered magic and halted my research in this area, I by now would probably now everything about the normal nature. Yet, I do not feel any regret. Knowing how something works is useful, because you can use it to your advantage. The things to do with the tools at hand and my body were rather limited, though. It is a good thing that I found a way of manipulating things that does not depend on the strength of my body, but rather the strength of my mind. I reach the forest outskirts, and home. Today was a good day.


    8 Years, Village outskirts. Deadlock


    I ready a stone, and throw it. It flies exactly like it was supposed to according to physics, without me concentrating on it having any Influence at all. Over the course of the last eight months, my ability to control magic rose greatly. Three months ago, I had read the book ¡°What Is Magic ¨C The Basics¡± so many times I knew it contents by heart, and I only used the integrated magic coefficient meter to train. Two months ago, I decided that my usable coefficient was high enough to shift to heating up other things, and I left the book at home entirely to keep it safe from eventual harm.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    At first, I tried to heat a cup of water, and quickly realized one thing: Different materials have different rates in which magic energy is transformed into heat. After only half a minute of concentrating, the water began to boil and vaporize. This took me by surprise: I was heating up a way larger amount of fluid, a whole wooden cup opposed to the medium-sized mercury droplet I trained with before.


    I also succeeded in heating up solid materials, like stones, wood and fabric, meat and part of my own skin. When I tried heating up my skin it started of as a pleasant warmth, but quickly evolved into unbearable heat, so I canceled the experiments on my own body for the meantime. Every material had its own effectiveness, with water having the highest, and mercury having the lowest by far. This is probably also the reason why it is used in coefficient meters, to ensure nothing burns or breaks due to the heat.


    Once I succeeded in heating my own skin, I tried hunting with this Technique. However, as much as I concentrated, the Rabbit I had be my involuntary research partner never showed any sign of discomfort. When I killed it with my knife and tried it again, it worked like expected, however.


    Living animals, and Humans as well probably, even though I had no chance to test it out yet, seem to subconsciously hinder foreign magic manipulation of the own body. Whether the effect works only as a hindrance or a complete nullification that cannot be overcome I do not know, but it is relieving to know that no magician is simply able to cook your heart without any way to resist it. Luckily the rabbit was not burned too badly, so mother was still able to make stew out of it.


    While the energy output is limited, I also learned that I can focus it on a specific point, tremendously increasing heat generation. I called this Technique Focused Heating, and it works by not concentrating on a single object, but rather mentally dividing this object into imaginary smaller objects that are only connected, and then focusing on one of those specific objects. A good explanation for it would be to concentrate on a single water droplet, even though it is in the middle of a pond. The power that made a cup of water cook in half a minute evaporated a water droplet in the span of a split second.


    Another useful Technique I developed is what I named Coefficient Regulation, and it basically allows me to vary the magic energy transformed into heat by a certain degree, from zero to hundred percent, with hundred being the normal and maximal power output. It is done by flexing the imaginary muscle not to the fullest, but rather only a bit. I deemed it necessary after conducting an experiment which failed horribly. When I learned about the different material coefficients, I tried to heat up the Glass directly surrounding the mercury droplet, instead of the mercury droplet itself.


    This worked out extremely well, the meter shot to the maximum value in a few seconds. It worked a bit too well however, as the glass shattered only a few moments after I started concentrating, not being able to handle this immense heat and rapid temperature change. Mercury spilled all over the book, and I quickly distanced myself from it, and tried to clean my precious book. This happened on the top of the boulder in the middle of the forest clearing, and since I do not really know how toxic mercury is exactly, I refrained from sitting there after that. Most likely this was unnecessarily cautious, but better safe then sorry. I would not like my odds if I had to find a doctor who is capable of treating mercury poisoning in this village, if there is any treatment to it at all.


    All in all I do not think of this incident as a bad occurrence, since it gave me the final push to start researching the magic arts a bit more thorough, and to not mindlessly repeat the same action again and again, like I did it for almost six months at that point. The training paid off however, as this usable coefficient I gained from it is more than sufficient to back up further experiments.


    I am very satisfied with the results of the last months, since I rapidly advanced in the art of heating objects efficiently. Yet, I craved something else, an energy form left completely untouched by me in my former research, which also takes me where I stand today, and where I stood pretty much exactly a year ago: The place aside of the road, with the tree trunk and the wide fields stretching leisurely behind it, the place where I first met Arstibal, and where this whole Ordeal began.


    I still had the same stones I threw that Day, they were stored in a corner of our shack where I store my few possessions, namely the knife, the book, those stones, a wooden figure carved by my father long before I was born, and some other trinkets. Most of them serve no practical purpose, yet I never was able to get rid of them. I do not like that part about myself, because collecting random junk is bringing nobody anywhere, yet it is a part of me.


    I ready a stone, and throw it. It is a hit, yet hitting the tree trunk is not my primary goal this time. Even though I tried to concentrate, the stone flew just like it did all the times before. I recover all stones, since this was the last one I had at hand, and the only difference I could notice is that it felt warmer than usual, almost a bit hot. This explains the feeling of my magic muscle being used, but is getting me nowhere.


    There are mainly three things that make the acceleration of objects more difficult than heating them:


    The main reason is that it is a totally different form of energy, and requires a totally different approach on thinking. Also, you have to focus on a moving target which is harder than concentrating on a static one. You have to take the direction into account as well, all things that differ in comparison to heat generation.


    It is extraordinarily hard to imagine controlling all this with a single muscle. I think of my magic prowess as a additional imaginary muscle, and so far I was able to explain everything relevant with this model. However, I have no guarantee that that this is the best model, and whether I am able to explain every magic of energy manipulation with it or not, I do not know. If I were to feel how to move this muscle, I could replicate it, probably. This is what I did with my initial heat manipulation, I simply tried to recreate the feeling I had when I chanted the measurement spell.


    I wont get my hands on a magic adapter in the foreseeable future, however. The magic guild, which is leading the magic academy, has a monopoly on them. They produce them, and the only people who are allowed to possess one are either students of their academy, or later on members of the guild. This was what was written in the book, which seems to be standard disciple issue from them. When I meet Arstibal again, I really need to thank him for giving it to me. Had he not, it is uncertain whether I would be where I am today, from a magic perspective.


    Since I have no option to get a taste on the feeling, I have to think about it rationally, and try to figure out how to do it on my own. For that matter, I have to ask myself a question: What is Movement, even?


    Movement is the change of position in a room, with a room being a closed room in a house, or all vast space under the sky, from one horizon to the one on the opposite site. Movement always has a velocity, with velocity being the distance an object traverses in a specific amount of time. What I want to add to a stone now is Acceleration. Acceleration is nothing more than the change in velocity. That much I can say, as it is quite self-apparent. It is important to clarify those seemingly self-apparent things to oneself, however.


    A good training to get a grasp on all would hopefully be to just stretch out my bare hand, lay a stone on it, and try to accelerate this stone skywards. Like this, I do not have to worry about direction much, since there is nothing like the throwing arc. I also start with a resting object, therefore changes should be very easy to notice. Maybe I should start with only Twenty percent of my magic coefficient, since I do not want to lodge stones around like a maniac. Twenty percent should be more than enough to notice a difference, taking the power output I got used with while heating into account.


    I start to focus on the stone. I try and try, but nothing happens. I do not even get the feeling of magic flowing through my veins, so there is most likely absolutely nothing happening. Yet, I cannot give up. I concentrate, and concentrate, and always try to approach the problem from a different angle. On a regular basis, I reposition myself to avoid an eventual magic depletion. Morning turns to noon turns to afternoon, and I make no visible progress whatsoever. I only sat on a spot, so I was in good shape physically, but I am totally exhausted mentally.


    Yet, I do not feel frustrated or taken aback. A weird feeling starts dominating my body, it is a bit like a headache. Despite it being painful, it feels good, really good. On every failed attempt, after thoroughly testing the new thought I had, I catch myself grinning like a madman. I once heard that if you work really hard for a long time, or run, swim or something similar, you can start feeling a high, even though you are exhausted. Even though your arms and legs hurt, it feels good, and even better when you finally look back on all the things you achieved. I always used to think that this was nonsense, but now I can see where this stems from.


    It is only natural that I made that little progress, I am an autodidact trying to learn high-level magic theory all by myself, all while being outclassed even by an adapter adept in terms of coefficient and spell repertoire. Would the answer be so easy on this problem, more people would come to it, and would I figure it out in a measly day, I wold not be human. Using my brain in this way is new, and it is a really pleasant experience. I had a head start, but it ends here. Thanks to it, I got a grasp on the magic muscle, and on heat magic, but now, I need to do it on my own.


    I keep sitting and focusing, and slowly my mind succumbs to the exhaustion. Would I think reasonable in that situation, I would go home and sleep. That reason died in the past hours, and I stayed on the fields, gazing into the stars, hand on my belly, stone on my hand. My thoughts became less and less coherent, and I finally shifted into sleep, hand on my belly, stone on my hand.


    Dream 2


    I am standing on an open, vast field. All the plants seem to carry stones instead of seeds, it is a beautiful sight. I pick one of them, prepare, and throw it as high into the sky as I possibly can. It remains there, and the sky fills with gray dots. Those dots quickly grow larger, and I realize that those are thousands, if not millions of stones raining from the sky. I stretch my arms and embrace the rain like a kid would do in a puddle of mud, and the stones come splattering down, devastating the fields and my body alike. My field of vision turns black, and a gentle cold envelops me. I am floating in a dark space, other objects fly around as well in the distance- Dolls, Swords, also Envelopes and every other imaginable thing. It is a nice place, I think I will stay here for a while.

 8 years, Village outskirts. Spectators

    8 years, Village outskirts. Spectators


    It is Autumn, turning Winter. Movement manipulation was a tough nut to crack, yet over the course of the last months, I managed to comprehend how it works. On the first day, I lost myself in a kind of craze and ultimately fell asleep in a field. When I returned to my parents the next morning, they were worried sick. Luckily nothing preyed on me while I slept, but I caught a slight cold, which had me bed-ridden for two weeks nonetheless.


    This time I used to think about movement, develop approaches to change it with magic, and test these approaches. Since my parents never asked me what I was doing, I never told them. They asked me not to tell them about my research a long time ago, and therefore I kept quiet. In retro-perspective it is a small miracle that my feverish mind was even able to think of something, but after ten days of only laying in bed, occasionally drinking, eating and sleeping, and thinking about my problem every time I was doing none of the former, I finally had a breakthrough.


    Whether it was a short glimpse of genius, or I had simply tried every other approach so I forcefully discovered the one that would work, that I do not know, and do not really care about. As always I had a stone in my hand, and while concentrating, the stone felt lighter. After only one hour of training, I was even able to make it float of my hand. It levitated, and flew upwards with slowly rising velocity.


    After having a glance at how it works, everything following was easy, in comparison. Having it levitate on a spot, steering it into directions, and even the very technique that started everything: The acceleration of a thrown stone. This is where I stand today: after my cold was cured, I returned to the field. For over months, I threw stones to my hearts content, and had them reach murderous velocities.


    Incomparable to the distances I reached under Arstibals guidance, my stones flew over a distance of a hundred meters. The cause for this is obvious: While the accelerating force is the same or even a bit lower than back when I had to use the Adapter, the acceleration lasted only about half a second. Now that I do not have this limitation anymore, I can use the whole 25 meter reach to accelerate, and this becomes apparent as a tremendous difference.


    From some distance, two people are watching me. Over the past week, they would occasionally stand at the villages entrance, and watch me from afar. Even though I only could see their silhouettes I recognized them: The mayors children, Ione and her little brother. This time however, unlike before, they approach me.


    Just as they enter the range where they could hear me clearly, I throw the stone I had readied, and mumble to myself, but loud enough for them to understand: ¡°152 Meters... Not my best shot.¡± In reality, It was a good and impressive throw, and I completely made the numbers up, but stating it like this should make it sound even more impressive.


    ¡°What are you doing here? How are you doing this?¡± The brother began to speak, Ione remained quiet.


    ¡°I am simply throwing stones. Like this.¡± As I say this, I throw another stone, and it leaves a dust cloud far into the field. Without a further word, I go and recover the stones. They all landed in close vicinity to each other, therefore they are easy to find, but the way to the landing spot is no short one, so the walk takes a good while.


    As I return, the siblings are still standing there. They seem to have had a discussion while I was gone, judging at how Iones brother looks upset. This time, Ione speaks up: ¡°Now for real, Reiland. That was your name, right?¡± I simply nod. She continues without heeding it. ¡°How are you throwing those stones like that? They seem to get faster as they fly, but that would normally not be possible, no?¡±


    She seems to have a keen eye. ¡°Precisely that. It is simple, however. All I do is accelerating the stones mid-air with acceleration magic. It is no Witchcraft.¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up! Stop telling us such Bullshit! Everybody knows that you need a special bracelet to use magic!¡±, The boy bursts out. I think I remember now why I did not like him.


    ¡°Oh, you uncovered my secret. It is no magic at all, I throw the stones purely with the strength of my own muscles! Congratulations for looking behind my cover, kid.¡± The boys face turns red after hearing that. To top it off, I use another one of my Techniques: I put a stone on my hand, let it levitate, accelerate it so it flies in a straight line for 25 meters, and another 30-40 meters like it normally would, given such speeds would normally be possible.


    ¡°Don''t call me ¡°Kid¡± when you are smaller than me! How did you do this, tell me now!¡±


    This is starting to get annoying. ¡°I used magic.¡± This will be the only answer he gets from me, should he continue like this.


    ¡°But-¡± Ione interferes, and stops the Boys oncoming words. ¡°Stop it, Brian. You see that something unnatural is going on here, be it magic or something else. Ask him for it, in a civil manner. You are to old to behave yourself so childishly.¡±


    ¡°Fine...¡±, the boy grumbles, and turns to me. ¡°How are you able to throw the stone so far? Please, tell me.¡±


    He is capable of not annoying me with a sentence, how surprising. I will answer him, then. In detail, this time.


    ¡°As I said, it is quite simple. I pick up a rock, like this. Then I add upwards acceleration to it until it starts floating, like this.¡± While explaining every step, so that even this Idiot can grasp it, I exercise everything I say as an example. ¡°Once it floats, I simply decrease the upwards acceleration until it perfectly negates the innate downwards acceleration, like this. Now the stone floats in one position. Once this is done, change direction sideways and increase the acceleration at the same pace, resulting in the stone flying sideways on a constant height. Like this.¡± Everything was explained in an extra slow and understandable tone. Yet, the boy does not seem to be satisfied.


    ¡°Acceleration? Velocity? What the hell are you even talking about? How do you make the stone fly?¡±


    I sigh, annoyed. ¡°I told you that! I simply use magic to execute I every step I just now explained in detail. Are you really too dumb to-¡±


    ¡°You damned liar! You-¡± The boy interrupts me. If he does not want to reason, fine. I can leave now and return another day. I turn around on the spot, not even listening to the rest of his tirade. While walking away, I hear Ione saying something in a harsh tone, after which the Brat quickly stops. She shouts: ¡°Please wait a second, Reiland!¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I stop and turn my head around, listening, but ready to go for good should something rude follow.


    ¡°Brian did not mean it like this.¡± ¡°I-¡± He starts, but Ione glares him down. Defeated, he looks on the ground. ¡°I, and even more so my Brother, are very interested in all magic-related. What you did was undeniably magic or something similar. Therefore, we would be grateful if you could explain to us how can do all this without chant and adapter. If you refused after how Brian behaved, it would be understandable.¡±


    That is how you ask someone for something. Fine. I turn around, and position myself in front of them. ¡°It is obvious that I have no magic adapter, neither did I chant anything. Over the course of over one and a half year, I developed a new form of magic. I call it ¡°The Reilandian Way¡±.¡± I made this word up the second before I spoke it, after realizing that I had no name for what I do yet. ¡°This new form requires no adapter, and with it the chant also becomes unnecessary. It is using magic on a deeper, more direct level.¡± That should have answered that question.


    ¡°Reiland, how old are you?¡± Ione asks me, with a puzzled look on her face.


    ¡°Nine.¡± That was almost not a lie, since my birthday lies only a few weeks into the future.


    ¡°Are you telling us that a nine-year old reinvented magic by himself? I can''t come around saying that this sounds ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Believe what you want, it does not change the facts. ¡°Reinvented magic¡± is a bit of an overstatement, though. There are Arch-Wizards who can do it as well after all, according to Arstibal.¡±


    ¡°Come, Brian. We leave him alone for now. I doubt that we will hear much more useful things from him today. ¡°There are Arch-Wizards who can do it, so it is not that special!¡± You should hear yourself talk!¡±


    The last part was directed at me, apparently. ¡°I hear myself very well. I am not deaf, after all!¡±


    Ione however was already leaving, her Brother was slowly walking behind her. He stayed quiet after Ione scolded him the last time. Maybe he is learning. Probably not. At least I am back to my favored solitude now. Maybe Ione was partially right, though... Having discovered this mostly by myself, it is an accomplishment.


    I am glad that I did not tell my parents the details, they would have gone crazy, told me how amazing I am, and so on, especially my mother. I like praise in modesty, but that is simply too much.


    As for today, I am going to train further, and think of new Techniques while doing so. Even though this is of course not my main focus, something that will impress the mayors children, should they return. Having someone to show off to is nice, after all.


    8 Years, Village outskirts. Disciples


    Whoosh! I let go of the String in my hand, and the stone attached to it shoots down the field with terrific speed. It flies a lot further opposed to throwing it. If I were to guess I would say it landed between the 300 and 400 meter mark. Finally, I came to test Arstibals Idea: Tying a string to a stone, and use this for a prolonged acceleration path. It works well, but I have to be cautious. Would I accidentally hit my arm it could break, and a head hit could easily be lethal.


    It is cold, not frosting yet, but likely close to it. I am not wearing any warm garment, just the same almost ragged attire I always do. To avoid cooling out I have to stop throwing stones every now and then, and heat up my own skin with a quick spell. I discovered this Technique long ago, yet only now I found an application for it. I lower my output for such actions, as an thoughtless use could harm me. With it I am able to cope with the cold. It uses my magic muscle however, therefore I can not do it while throwing stones. I usually do it while recovering them.


    Accelerating stones is nice, but I feel like I have to try something new soon. While throwing stones and freely manipulating their movement is useful, I feel like I almost discovered all that is to it. If I want to advance, I have to experiment on new techniques. Wind? Cooling things instead of heating them? The movement of my own body?


    I will think about that later. Right now, It seems like I have Visitors again. The mayors children watched me from time to time after out last conversation, but now they are approaching me again. I am getting a bit cold anyway, so I decide to take a break and listen to them. They are both clad in fur-lined coats, and towering me by a good head each. The brother seems to have gotten rid of his high-and-mighty attitude. ¡°Aren''t you a bit cold?¡± is the first thing Ione asks me.


    ¡°Not particularly. I have my means of staying warm.¡± I have a vague intuition that they did not only come here to ask this question.


    ¡°Is that related to the ¡°Reilandian Way¡±, or however you called it?¡±


    I nod. I wish they would finally come to the point.


    ¡°Now, listen...¡± She starts, but I interrupt her. I want her to hurry up.


    ¡°I am. Even though it is hard, considering you just keep asking questions with obvious answers.¡±


    Iones brother seems to have taken that as rude, however. ¡°Show more respect to my sister! Who do you-¡±


    ¡°Quit it, Brian! I can talk for myself. Please, leave it to me.¡± The reason why her Brother was comparably docile today was probably because she told him to, not because he had a change of heart. ¡°Anyway, This Reilandian Way... If a 9-year old can invent it on his own, don''t you think a 12-year old boy and a 14-year old girl could learn to use it if taught?¡±


    Oh. It is going in this direction. I figured that they may would come to ask me this one day, considering how they stated their interest in the magic arts. Therefore, I thought of what to say beforehand. ¡°You want me to teach you? Is it that what you want? If so, then say it directly. Do not bother putting it in a nice wrapping.¡±


    ¡°You got me there. Brian and I are both eager to learn magic, yet our father won''t allow us attending magic academy, no matter how often we ask him. For this reason, we come asking you. Please, teach us how magic works!¡± Her Brother does not seem to like it, but he nods to underline Iones words. He must be quite desperate if he does that, considering how he seems to hate me. That feeling is kind of mutual, though. Lets give them my answer, then.


    ¡°Fine. If you are begging me like that, I guess I could spend my time teaching two kids the principles of my magic!¡± I wanted to this sentence for a long time. ¡°Do not expect any rapid successes, however. It took me two years to get where I am, two years of training from dawn till dusk. This is not a magic adapter where you mumble a few words in and a miracle comes flying out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that was unexpectedly easy.¡± Ione seems to be surprised by my answer. ¡°It was expected that it would be harder than with an adapter, though.¡± ¡°Sounds like a pain...¡± Her brother did not expect it, apparently.


    ¡°You do not have to do this, boy. I will teach Ione without you, if you do not want to listen.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that''s a no. Either me and Brian, or none of us. Please, Brian, don''t ruin this for you and me. He is more willing to teach us than I thought, so don''t ruin this for us, okay?¡± ¡°Ugh, fine...¡± The first part was directed at me, and the second she whispered to her Brother.


    I pretend that I did not hear their little talk, and proceed. ¡°We can start right now, but for the other days: Meet me here, 2 hours after the sun rose, and I will teach you until afternoon. Then...¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy? Cut us some slack, already!¡±, the brother spurted out. Before I was able to answer that, Ione added: ¡°What Brian wanted to say is: That is way too much. We have other things to do as well, you see?¡±


    I sigh. ¡°What do you suggest?¡±


    ¡°2-3 Hours every day except each seventh, starting in the afternoon?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± It will take eternities for them to make progress at this pace. However, it also leaves me more time to focus on actually improving my own magic.


    I sit down at the edge of the tree trunk. ¡°Let us get started, then. Sit down on the ground or stand.¡± Ione sits down, her brother seems unsure what to do. He nervously stands on the spot for a few seconds, before finally sitting down next to her as well. ¡°Tell me: What is magic?¡±


    ¡°Aren''t you supposed to tell us, not the other way around? You don''t even know that?¡± The brother seems to have misinterpreted my questions. I sigh deeply.


    ¡°Let me rephrase the question on his stead then: What do we think is magic?¡± Ione seems to have understood what I wanted to say. I nod in response. She continues. ¡°Magic as we know it allows us to achieve superhuman feats with the usage of an adapter. Right?¡±


    ¡°Very simplified, but yes. However, is it really that superhuman if I can do it on my own?¡± I am convinced that magic is innate to all humans, and the Adapter does nothing more than help to bring it out. My results without it are the best proof for it.


    ¡°Onis wear human skin as well, are they human?¡± Her brother mumbled quietly. He probably did not intend to let me hear it, but he underestimated my ears. ¡°I can assure you that there is no difference between me and my skin. I am human, and you both are as well. At least in theory, we all should be able to use magic. Until we can come to magic itself, let me talk a bit about some principles. Without them, it would be hard to understand my reasoning.¡±


    They need at least to know everything about energy I do, or they are going to fail.


    ¡°Every change of state has a connection to energy. This and the following, just take it at face value. It will simplify things for you.¡± In unison, Ione and her brother nod. ¡°Whenever I accelerate or heat up things, I add energy to them. This energy cannot come from nothing, however. Magicians use another form of energy, unnoticeable to the senses, and transform it into energy forms that they can use. I dubbed it ¡°Magic Energy¡±, for the lack of a better word. The rate that one can convert Magic Energy into other energy forms is nothing else but the coefficient, the very same Arstibal tested for.


    Understood everything so far?¡±


    While Ione nods, even though not too enthusiastically, her brother only displays a look of confusion.


    ¡°What do you even mean, energy? You spurt out such things one after another and expect us to simply understand! Elaborate, please, if you want me to understand!¡±


    I sigh. This is going to take a while. I did not expect her brothers common knowledge to be that low. I will take the time it takes, however. It is what I promised them.


    ¡°Fine, let us start from the very, very basics, then.¡±

 9 Years, Home. A little demonstration

    9 Years, Home. A little demonstration.


    "Good morning, Rei! Wake up if you''d like. The sun has risen, rise and shine!" Oh, how unusual. I overslept, and my mother woke me up. Normally, I am long gone by the time she gets up. The fact that I overslept is not very surprising, though. I was awake until deep in the night yesterday, and racked my brain on how to properly teach Ione and her Brother my ways. It has been two weeks since they started coming to me for lessons, and while at least Ione seems to have understood the theory, good enough to even clarify them to her brother, none of them have made any advances in the actual usage of magic.


    I explained them the magic muscle in theory, but they were not able to find it in their own body yet. This leaves room for interpretation: either only a few people have it or are able to sense it, which i think of as highly unlikely, or they just did not have a breakthrough yet. While there were times where I deemed movement manipulation to be almost impossible, it now feels virtually as easy as breathing. As a training method to let them discover their sense of magic, I let them try heat up a cup of water under my instructions. It is different from how I practised, but since I accidentally destroyed the magic coefficient measurement device, that option is gone.


    "Right. I will get up right away." I say, and stand up. I see clouds emerging from my breath, even in this shed it is cold. Not very surprising considering it is currently deep winter outside. Our small furnace is helping, but we can not afford to have it running all the time. We have to make do with thick blankets. Our father worked a good amount of time for them, and even then they are only second-hand.


    "Oh, You don''t have to feel compelled to. By the way, are you going to meet your friends today?" When my parents discovered that I meet the mayors children on a regular basis, they were very surprised, as I never had much contact to people my age. I tried to explain to them that we are no friends, but they would not listen. Noticing my mildly sour facial expression, my mother adds: "Sure, sure. They are your disciples, not your friends. You are teaching them magic, I got it!" She chuckles. "Seriously though, Rei, I am glad that you found someone to spend your time with, that''s all."


    She is not taking me serious. However, This is my fault to a degree. Not once did I show my parents that I was actually capable of using magic, so they must think I am exaggerating when I tell them the little about daily activity that I do.


    Sleeping in was pleasant, but it also stripped me of a good amount of usable time. "I am going to leave now.", I say to my mother. Personally, I think it is not needed to do, but my parents say it is a sign of good manners, and therefore require me to do so. A second piece of clothing just to sleep in is not something we can afford, and since I dislike sleeping naked, I sleep in my everyday robe. For that reason, I am basically always ready to set out.


    "Take care of yourself, Rei!" My mother is worried as ever, when did I not take care of myself? "Will do.", I answer, while nodding once. Instead of leaving, I keep standing in the doorway, since a thought came to my mind. I slept longer than usual, but I have still around four hours until I meet the mayors children. It has been a long time since we had meat for dinner, as I go hunting only very sparsely nowadays. I scurry to my corner in the room, and grab my pouch as well as my knife. My mother uses the knife as well for cooking purposes, since it is our best and only, but she always puts it back into my corner after using it. I leave, for real this time.


    There is very little snow, and small puddles on the ground are frozen over. I enter the forest, on search of an animal, ideally not to big, not to small, and not tasting awful. The last part is more optional than the first two, though. On the way, I collect a handful of pebbles and store them in my pouch. I look for the ones around the size of the tip of my little finger, because rocks of the size I use for training normally would not leave much meat after a direct hit.


    All of a sudden a feeling of nostalgia overcomes me, and I feel compelled to visit the forest clearing again, the very same I read my book on. It is not hard to find, and lays only five minutes into the forest, following a small trail, half-overcome by shrubbery. For the first time in over half a year, I enter the almost circular field, with the huge boulder in the middle. I half expected to see a pile of animal corpses, but I think I overestimated the toxicity of mercury at this point.


    I climb on the boulder, not an easy thing to do since it is frosted over. I keep my own body from losing temperature, but direct contact to cold surfaces still burns a bit. At this point, I warm myself constantly, with a special focus on my feet. I own no shoes, therefore it is needed. On hindsight, I do not know how I made it through the winter when I was not able to help myself with magic yet. On top of it, I let my gaze wander over my surroundings. However, there is no point of interest in sight, so I withdraw from the site, and head further into the forest.


    I am moving away from paths at this point, but my unusually good orientation helps me to find home as long as I do not venture too far into the forest. At that point, the forest gradually turns thicker, and there are rumours of dangerous beasts, out there even at daytime. I was strictly forbidden to go that far, and I have no intention of breaking that rule.


    Maybe I got lost in thoughts, but I notice the deer only as it stands right in front of me. It looks into my eyes, and I look back. Normally I would not say such a thing, but even I cannot avoid to think that this is a beautiful animal. I reach into my pouch, and ready a stone. Were there an observer, he would have seen a strange scenery ¨C a ragged nine-year old boy and a deer, only five meters apart, and quietly eyeballing each other.


    After a few seconds, reason hits me, and I drop the pebble. Even if I were to kill this animal, how would I transport it? How would I explain to my parents how I killed it? A boy under ten knifed down a deer? While my parents would certainly be able to make good money selling the meat we cannot eat, the hide and the bones, it would also raise questions. I turn around, after nodding to the deer in respect. It is not a logical action, but as much as I would like myself to act after reason alone, I cannot. The deer seems to have lost interest in me as well, and we quickly loose sight of each other.


    After that, I encounter only a few Animals. After an hour of searching, I set sight onto a squirrel. It is digging in the ground roughly thirty meters away, and does not seem to have noticed me yet. I had an advantage spotting it, its dark fur contrasted well with the white snow underneath. This is an opportunity I am not willing to waste. I reach into my pouch and grab three pebbles, each held between two of my fingers. I stretch out my arm, and accelerate one of them, adjusting direction via magic as well. It misses, and impacts with a slight thud, ten meters behind the squirrel, only barely audible from the distance. My prey immediately sticks its head into the air to locate the source of the noise, ready to run at away any second.


    This is the last Chance I have. I release a second pebble ¨C which promptly hits the squirrel right in the head. Its corpse is propelled half a meter hindwards, and the snow is coloured in red sprinkles. I immediately reapply my heating, which I had to cease during the aiming and shooting. In that time, my feet began to ache terribly, and I welcome the warm feeling that soothes my soles. I run over to the squirrel, jumping over or circling loose branches and bushes, whatever seems right in that moment.


    Upon closely inspecting the impact hole, I notice that the stone penetrated, and exited on the backside. Using my full coefficient may have been overkill, I will keep that in mind. Around a quarter would have been lethal as well, most likely, without outright penetrating the skull. The fact that the tiny pebble flew at such an enormous speed is not surprising in hindsight, however: It is simply what happens if you apply the power needed to accelerate a stone the size of your fist to a tiny pebble.


    I store the squirrel corpse in my pouch. With this, I lack only one thing for todays presentation ¨C a large stone with a flat surface. I want to use it as an impromptu grill, to cook the squirrel. I could do it in the dirt, but that would be filthy, and there is no suiting stone in the vicinity of the training space near the tree trunk. I still have around three hours, more than enough time. After some search, I find one that I deem fitting. It is so large that I cannot span both my arms around it, but it is rather thin. It has a thin ice layer on it, and I see my face reflect in it- expressionless, but with deep eyes. I almost loose myself in the reflection, but snap back after a few minutes. I have a time limit after all.


    I try to lift the stone, with no success. It weighs a bit more than half my weight, if I were to guess, maybe even two thirds of it. Additionally, I cannot get a good grip onto it, and my bare fingers hurt when I touch it. I let out a loud sigh, as I know what my only option, except from searching another stone, is. I release the warming magic. I suddenly feel cold, and my feet immediately start to hurt. Additionally, the Euphoria that you get when using magic also fades away. I redirect my magic onto the stone, and slowly scale the upwards acceleration to the maximum possible. The stone does not bother, and remains on the ground. When I try to lift it, it feels a lot lighter though, and I can shoulder the rock without much trouble. Slowly but surely, I start walking in the direction of the village.


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    After only twenty minutes of struggling through the bushes, I stopped feeling my feet. Warned by the fact that they even stopped hurting, which they did intensely before, I stop in my tracks. I am still in the forest, but further to the border than I was before, I am certain of it. I place the rock on the ground, and release the spell I used to be able to carry the rock. I heat my whole body up, with extra focus on the feet. Immediately, an intense warmth fills my body. Maybe I even went a bit overboard, because I used self-warming with a much higher coefficient than ever before.


    I sit down on, legs crossed on the rock, and take a good look at my feet. Even from first glance I can tell that they should not have this shade of blue. They are covered by a crust of snow and mud, but the snow quickly melts away under the warmth my feet radiate now. I watch them for a while, too captivated by the warmth as to take a guess at the time I actually sat there. They take on their normal pink-red colour, and I turn down my used coefficient. Part of me wants to simply sit here for another while and enjoy the warmth circulating through my body, just keep sitting here forever.


    However, this will not bring me any further. I stand up, slowly, having given most of my elan to the cold. I reapply the lifting spell, and only let out a slight grunt after the cold burns into my body again. Once again, I shoulder the rock, and proceed on my way.


    One and a half hour later I finally arrived at the destination. After my first, I took a lot of breaks, more regularly, but way shorter- not much more than resting for long enough for my temperature to stabilize again. I am exhausted, but in about one hour the mayors siblings will come, and I want to have everything ready by then. I open the knot on my pouch, take the squirrel out and place it on the stone. I firmly grab my knife, and try to remember what my mother taught me about preparing squirrel, or small animals in general ¨C we only ever had squirrel once before. I think back to that day, when I was out hunting while Arstibal talked to my Parents. How he said he would come for me, and he never did. I am a bit disappointed, but since he left me the book, I was able to make advancements on my own. I should perhaps thank him for that, should me ever meet again.


    A few cuts here and there, and the pelt comes of. I try to waste as little of it as possible, as my mother would perhaps be able to sell it for at least a small price. Once the squirrel is skinned, I take out the innards, and store them into my pouch. I will not be eating those, as I am not sure if some of them could be poisonous. My mother simply threw them away, which might have been a waste on some of them, but better safe than sorry. The squirrel is lacking fat, but it will still be enough meat for a decent-sized meal. I scrape the bones clean, trying to maintain as large chunks as possible. Only the ribs I leave as they are. For the purpose of my presentation, it will be advantageous if it is still recognisable that this was once a live being.


    I arrange them all on the corner of the stone, and now have around fifteen minutes left- Godspeed. I frown at the thought of having to release my warmth coating spell soon for some time, but I endured it before, and so will I now. All in all, I am in high mood. I got something presented, expanded my ¡°classroom¡±, and came to use my magic in two very useful ways, hunting and hauling. I look down at my hands, they are coated in blood. It had not dried yet, too little time had passed.


    I start whirling pebbles around to use the time until my disciples arrive. I do not like to admit it, but the head shot was more coincidence than skill. If I were to master that way of hunting however, me and my parents would be able to eat meat more frequently. I am not fixated on it, but I eat whenever I get the chance. It would be a lie to deny that it tasted better than what we usually have, and it brings some difference. I lay a bunch of pebbles onto my palm, and focus on the most distant first, have it shoot of, and repeat. That way, I can create a kind of barrage ¨C I will keep it in mind for later, when I continue the research. Right now, it seems Ione and her Brother arrived.


    ¡°Hello, Reiland!¡± Ione greets. I encouraged them to call me ¡°Teacher¡±, but for an unknown reason, they refuse. It was half-hidden by my back, yet Iones Brother seems to have noticed what I prepared. ¡°Ew! What is that?¡± He says, with a visibly disgusted facial expression. Ione notices it as well after her brother burst out, and gives me a questioning look.


    ¡°It is meat. Squirrel meat, to be precise. Today there will be a practical demonstration, and this will be needed.¡± I state, already a bit annoyed. I am rather sure that the Brother will stop being that loud once he witnesses my presentation, though.


    ¡°I am curious what that might be, but let me ask you one question beforehand ¨C how did you even get your hands onto that meat?¡± Ione states, seemingly a bit uncomfortable to ask that question.


    ¡°Is that not apparent?¡± They watched my acceleration experiments after all, the truth should be obvious to them.


    The Brothers eyes widen. ¡°YOU STOLE IT?!¡±


    What?


    How bad does this boy think of me?


    Regardless, I try to keep my cool. ¡°No, I did not steal it. I hunted it! You saw what I can do, is it really that far off in your head that I would be able to kill a squirrel?¡±


    ¡°You...¡± His face loses colour, even turns a bit pale. This same reaction is visible on Iones Face as well, to a lesser extent. Sometime I really am forgetting they are still kids.


    ¡°Yes, I killed a squirrel! This is what you do to get meat. Can we proceed now?¡±


    The Brother seems to be really uncomfortable with that thought. I am not here to comfort him, however. I want to say more to finally get started, but Ione beat me to it. ¡°I don''t like it either, Brian. But Reiland is right in that one. The meat we eat at home stems from killed animals as well, doesn''t it? Still, to use magic for such a purpose...¡±


    ¡°At least they die without pain if a professional does it!¡±


    ¡°Oh, it died without suffering, I can assure you that. Can we proceed now? You are starting to annoy me.¡± In all honesty, I am fed up at this point. I went widely out of my way to prepare an impressing presentation, and all they do it complain. I walked barefoot through the snow for that for almost two hours! Finally, they are silent. The look at their faces is a bit pained, though. ¡°Today, I want to talk about the dangers of magic. Compared to me, both your coefficients are extraordinarily high. With little effort, you should be able to achieve results I can only dream of. That, however, also means that you can hurt yourself with ease, should you act careless.¡±


    ¡°You told us that already! Why are you always repeating yourself?¡± Iones brother refuses to wait until I am finished with what I say, like so often.


    ¡°I did tell you that, truly. But did I show it to you? However, now to something else ¨C who of you is hungry?¡± I nod into the direction of the already sorted meat on the stone. The brother refuses with a slightly disgusted face, shaking his head violently. ¡°I will pass for now.¡±, is what Ione states dryly. I shrug, and move one piece of squirrel into the middle of the stone, distinct from the other chunks. ¡°Have a look.¡± I assure that both their gazes are on the stone, and start to focus. After only a few seconds, the meat starts to sizzle on the stone, and small bubbles of fat and water form on top of it. Its dark red texture turns gradually into a dark brown, until I decide it is enough. For this time of around a minute, I had to remove my continuous body heating, and my feet started freezing again. I happily reapplied it after the meat was done. The smell of half-roasted, half-burned meat lingers in the air.


    I pick the steaming chunk from the stone, leaving a small puddle of fat and water where it laid. I blow onto it a bit, and once it has the right temperature, I closely inspect it. Likewise, Ione and her brother inspect me closely, probably guessing if I would actually eat it. I do. It tastes not bad, but a bit bland, and different to having it cook inside a stew. ¡°Magic is surely convenient, is it not? Cooking without fuel and smoke, hunting without a weapon?¡± The both of them nod, but not very enthusiastically. ¡°Luckily, feats like manipulating the flesh of living are impossible to do on living beings, except for your own body ¨C example being the warming spell I am permanently under when not doing anything else.¡±


    While talking, I prepare the second piece of meat. After I finish speaking, both of them nod again, and I eat the second piece. ¡°Now, if you actually learn magic, and try such a nice little trick on yourself, but fail to regulate your power ¨C what do you think your immense magic prowess would do to your precious flesh? How long would it take to burn of your skin? Ravage your muscles? Five seconds? Two?¡± While saying the last few words, I concentrate on a third chunk, but without restricting myself this time. In a span of seconds, the meat spasms under internal steam, bursts open, catches fire, and finally turns into a black, undistinguishable thing, fused to the stone.


    I take a pause to let this sink in. Their faces are pale as the snow surrounding them, none of them is uttering a single sound, moving a single muscle. I unsheathe my knife, and scrape the burned meat from the stone onto the ground. I then push another piece into the middle with the tip of the knife, and have it cook again, under normal conditions. Nobody says a word. After sheathing the knife again, I deem the meat to be done, and turn around. ¡°Are you sure you do not want to try? It is delicious!¡± They do not react. It seems my little presentation worked, then.


    ¡°Any questions? No? A few words from my side, then. You are both will be perhaps powerful magic practitioners, if you put a little thought into it. Just be careful that you do not end it immediately with a careless action, will you? Now, continue your training as always. If you want advice, feel free to ask me.¡±


    Silently, they pull out wooden cups, put them in front of their legs after sitting down, and fill them with water out of a leather flask they brought along. They start and continue to stare them down, probably racking their brains for a clue that could mean progress. I stash the rest of the meat, so that my mother could use it later on for dinner. For the next few hours, nothing more happens then me watching them, thinking about basic magic appliance, and thinking of own techniques and theories myself. At last, the siblings start packing their things. They do not seem to have made advancements.


    ¡°Did you two read the book I lend you? Maybe this could yield some information.¡± As I speak those words, a flash of remembrance hushes over their, especially Iones, faces. I gave them ¡°What is Magic ¨C The basics.¡± three days ago, after I deemed them trustworthy enough to not bring it back in tatters, or not at all.


    ¡°Ah, about that... ¡° Ione starts, and her brother barges in: ¡°Dad took it away from us!¡± What now? Ione takes word again. ¡°Thanks, Brian, I was coming to that. We started reading it, and it went fine for two days ¨C But Father recognised the book when he saw us reading, and confiscated it on the spot. He asked us where we got it, and after hearing, demanded to talk to the one who borrowed it to us. That was today, and we forgot about it after your demonstration.¡±


    I see. The mayor wants to speak to me, and furthermore, he took my book. Naturally, I want it back, it was a gift of Arstibal, and I am fond of it. Additionally, it is my only book. ¡°I will go talk to him, then. Lead the way.¡± I have nothing planned, so there is no reason to get this done with.


    ¡°Excuse me, Reiland... But don''t you want to clean yourself beforehand? You are talking to our father, the mayor, after all...¡± Ione says in a tone as if she did not want to anger me. I look down on myself. My robe is covered in blood stains, in various stages of fading. There are new ones, from todays butchering. My hands are covered in dried blood as well, and my skin is generally dirty, my hair as well, probably. It is short for practical reasons, and has a shade of brown, a common shade of brown.


    ¡°Truly. I will prepare myself before, then. In about an hour, I will be knocking on your door.¡± Ione nods, and leaves with her brother into the direction of the village entrance. I leave as well, in the direction of my shed. A meeting with the mayor, huh...

 9 Years, Village. The Mayor

    9 Years, Home. Meeting


    I passed the way home without problems or noteworthy occurrences, and am standing in front of the shed. Before I enter, I empty my pouch on a close stone, and separate the usable meat from the butchery waste, which I dispose of on the garbage pile adjacent to our domicile. I put the meat back into the pouch, which insides are soaking wet from blood and tissue, and push open the door afterwards.


    My mother sits on a stool, her left leg exposed. She seems to be massaging the leg, but stops immediately after she takes notice of me, even seems a bit startled. She covers the leg with her trouser, and gets up. ¡°You are back early, Rei... Welcome home!¡± Without effort, she composes herself, and greets me.


    I nod. ¡°Indeed. I brought some meat, have a look over it.¡± I pull the dark red meat chunks out, and put them down on a wooden plate laying on the small table in the middle of the room. In fact, I am not the only one who is back early today. Normally, my mother would still be gone for a few hours, foraging through the forest, and taking what she could. However, those times became shorter and shorter over the course of the last months. She never disclosed her reasons with us, but it is apparent that she has strong pain in one of her legs, and that it only gets worse over time.


    ¡°You went out hunting, and even butchered it for me? I should have noticed immediately, there is fresh blood on your clothes. However, that is sweet of you! Thanks, Rei! You do not have to butcher it for me, I still can do that.¡± She seems to pout a bit while saying this, but rather to keep me from worrying about her, and not because she actually thinks I think she is incapable. ¡°Yes, I will make a fine stew with that... Hare? Squirrel? How did you even even catch it?¡±


    ¡°Meat is meat.¡±, I state, and finish the discussion with it. I take of my pouch and my knife, and put them into my corner.¡°Mother, I have a request.¡± While I got rid of the butchery waste and the meat, I still look like a person who did not clean himself properly in months. Which admittedly, is almost true. I know where to get rid of the dirt covering my skin, but there is one thing I cannot do.


    ¡°A request, from Rei... That''s rare! Go on, tell me!¡± Mother seems to be eager to help, she probably wants to repay me for the squirrel.


    ¡°Please, tell me: How do I get rid of blood stains?¡±


    ¡°Oh, my... I mean, of course I can show you... but it never bothered you before, did it?¡± I think a few seconds what to say to that, insecure how to react, but before can I open my mouth, my mother continues. ¡°You should be aware that while I can help you make those stains less visible, fade out a bit, bleach here and there... They will stay with this robe as long as you have it.¡± Blood sticks harder than dirt, I should have guessed... If there is no way to fully remove them, I might as well wear them with pride. Plus, what she said sounds like a lengthy process, and I do not have that much time, after all I announced that I would show up at the mayors door today.


    ¡°Actually, forget about it. I have to go.¡± With those words, I barge out of the room, uncomfortable with the whole situation. I hear my mother calling after me, but I do not turn back. I do not even why I went in such an abrupt manner, but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment. Only a kilometre away from our house, I stop running. Why did I run? I do not know. There was no reason, my mother did not want any bad for me, quite the opposite really. Even though it seemed like I just ran away, I actually had a target: A nearby creek flowing through the forest.


    I cannot do much against the dirt and blood on my clothes, but very much so against filth on my body. I strip naked, and place my clothes on a nearby rock. It is only a small creek, barely reaching my ankles. Needless to say, it is also ice-cold. I intensify the heating magic, to better ward myself against the impending frost, and lay down. In a way, it feels like a cold wind on a warm summer day, but more intense, and not nearly as good. It is an interesting feeling, to say the least. People around the village do not bath very often, and my family is no exception. The mayors family is probably such an exception, as they are quite wealthy.


    I scrub my arms, legs and torso, but lacking a brush and soap, its only better than nothing. There is soap available for sale in the village store, and the unscented one is not even expensive, but our family is lacking the money nonetheless. There are a lot almost affordable chemical things in there, soap, bleach, even some Medicines that are not herb-based.


    They all are manufactured by a guild associated with the magic guild, and sold by caravans to the village merchant for low prices, so that they can turn a profit selling it to other villagers, like us. The caravans could easily make fortunes by raising the prices, but there are laws by the magic guild preventing that. The magic guild wants to secure a generally high living standard for this country, for reasons that are unknown to me. What does it interest them if a random villager stinks after bathing or not?


    All these thoughts rush through my head while bathing, but I am not getting any cleaner by scrubbing at this point. I get up, haze is forming on my skin, and I quickly feel hotter. I turn the heating back down to a normal level, just to offset the ambient temperature. I look at my clothes ¨C they are dirtier now than me, but there is nothing to be done here. I put them back on, it is not great, but better than the alternative. I set of into the direction of the village.


    Our shed lies in the peripheries, and as I can reach the training spot without, I enter the main village only rarely. Every time I do, people give me a weird look, but they do not pay much attention overall. It is not different this time, and like always, I do not care. Through the marketplace, I head directly to my destination ¨C the largest house in the village. It is the only one with two stories, and build with bricks, opposed to wood like it is common here.


    Finally, I stand in front of the door. It is decorated by a metal door knocker, which I promptly make use of without hesitation. After half a minute, a middle-aged lady opens the door. She takes an extensive look at me, and looks amused, but I can not comprehend why she would be. When her gaze sees my bare feet standing in the snow, she shivers a bit, as if she were cold as well. ¡°Yes? How can I help you, young boy?¡± She asks. It is the mayors wife ¨C the very same woman that taught me to read over a year ago. She has a friendly face, and does not look like one to hold prejudices.


    ¡°I have come to speak to the mayor.¡±, I come straight to the point.


    ¡°You are Iuli and Kuums little Rei, aren''t you? I should have known at first glance.¡± I nod, and she chuckles a bit more. ¡°You sure have to speak to my husband. I just don''t know if my husband also to speak to you.¡± She chuckles again, slightly. Probably at the absurdity of this situation. ¡°I can go and ask him, if you want.¡±


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Do that.¡±


    ¡°Alright!¡± She leaves, and I hear stairs squeaking. After about two minutes, Iones brother comes to the doorstep. ¡°You actually came?¡± He says, as if it surprises him.


    ¡°Why would I not? It was the mayor who called for me, after all. Plus, he has something that belongs to me.¡± Silence follows, and after a short pause, a voluminous voice fills the corridor.


    ¡°Something that belongs to the magic guild, you mean.¡± A tall person with fiery hair enters the corridor, and my view. ¡°I am very interested in how you acquired it, son of Kuum and Iuli. I had a premonition that you would be the one that lent this book to my children. Come in, I have to talk to you.¡± He examines me, and adds: ¡°But clean your feet before you step inside.¡±


    I have seen this man on a handful of occasions before. He is undeniably the mayor, the mightiest person in this village. I rub off dust, mud and snow from my soles, and step through the door. Without further assuring that I follow, which I do of course, the mayor proceeds to go further inside the building, up a staircase, and finally enters a spacious room through a solid, ornamented wooden door. This room alone is larger than the shack I live in.


    Once we both entered, the mayor closes the hefty doors, and takes seat in a ladder padded chair behind a desk, which top is littered with paper, books, feathers and ink jars.. ¡°You are probably freezing to death, judging from what you are wearing. I know, your parents are poor, but there must have been a way to get warmer clothes for their own child... Anyway, you may stand in front of the fireplace.¡±


    His attitude immediately rubs me the wrong way. That my family is poor I cannot deny, but suggesting that my parents do not care for me is something different. ¡°I am perfectly fine with this little cold, thanks for your concern.¡± I position myself in the middle of the room, facing the desk. On my right are the doors we came through, and to left are windows almost replacing the whole wall, letting in light and granting a good sight on the marketplace.


    I wonder if the mayor had watched the magic coefficient tests. The windows are made of a special kind of glass, which only see-through from the inside of the building. One of the windows is actually a glass door leading to small balcony, from which the mayor could speak to people on the marketplace, would he wish so. There are no empty walls in this room, as where possible, bookshelves filled to the brim cover them.


    ¡°I am pretty sure about the answer, but tell me: How did this book get into your possession?¡± The mayor opens a drawer on the side of the desk I cannot see, and pulls out a familiar book: What is magic? The basics. The fact that the magic meter on the backside is broken proves that this is the exact book I lent to the siblings.


    ¡°Arstibal gave it to me when he left.¡± I state the facts.


    ¡°I figured that would be the case...¡± The mayor sighs deeply, and pauses for a few seconds. ¡°He surely told you the reason as to why he gave you the book, did he not?¡± I shake my head. Arstibal gave this book to my parents, but he never told my why, and what it was, and how I should use it. The mayor sighs again. ¡°Did he say anything else?¡±


    ¡°Only that he would come for me in a few years, and get me a place in the magic academy.¡±


    The mayor reacts heavily to that. ¡°Utter foolishness!¡±, he bursts out, as if he could not believe what I just said. He calms down a bit after a few seconds, and now just looks tired. ¡°It is not your fault. This man, however... I have met him only once, and thought he was a free-willed, quick to decide and exaggerative. All of that are bad traits for a magician. But for him to have lost his mind in that manner...¡±


    I have took an liking in Arstibal, and for that reason do not like the mayor talking about him in this depreciating manner. ¡°I think you make him look worse than he actually is.¡±


    ¡°And you simply believed all the nonsense he told you... It is not your fault, you are a good boy. But quit talking about matters you don''t understand.¡± The mayor sighs again. No matter what I say, at this point it will probably backfire. There is a half minute of silence, safe for the usual, muffled sounds coming up from the marketplace. ¡°Yes, only 4 secun and 5 prim for this as good as new pair of shoes!¡± Another voice speaks, too quiet to understand. ¡°You are ruining me, Ma''am! But well, let 4 secun and 3 prim be the final price.¡±


    Finally, the mayors face softens up, and his tone as well. ¡°I suppose this book is the reason why you wanted to learn to read, now over a year ago?¡± I nod in reply. ¡°I should have asked why a boy who would never see a book wanted to learn reading, then we would not be holding this conversation right now. However, your father worked for the lesson, and you learned surprisingly quick, so I have no regrets. In case you do not know already, I should tell you why it is such a big deal that this Magician gifted you this book.¡±


    He holds my book into the air. As if I would not know what my book looks like. ¡°It is, in fact, is issued by the magic academy for students, and for students alone. The academy guards its secrets closely. Even though this book holds no real information, except for the adapter language vocabulary which is useless on itself, giving it away to a stranger is something one could easily be expelled for. Therefore, I cannot give it back.¡±


    I am disappointed. Mad, even. But I know that arguing is pointless. ¡°I understand.¡±, I reply. For now.


    The tension leaves the room as if it never existed. ¡°Good we got that out of our way! The scale on the backside, was it broken when you received the book?¡±


    Oh, that. ¡°I am well aware of the toxic properties of mercury.¡± This should be all the answer he needs.


    ¡°Okay, then. Where?¡± The mayor tucks an eye brow, and he seems to understand what I am saying.


    ¡°Forest. A few minutes in. Nothing to worry about.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I will take your word for that. Now, tell me: What did you think of the book?¡± A faint smile is visible on the mayors face now. He almost seems like a different person, compared to when he reprimanded Arstibals behaviour. Back then he saw me as a child which caused trouble, now it is a discussion between two people, about magic. Kind of.


    ¡°It was interesting, for sure. However, it only contained Information about the magic academy and the organisation behind it, interesting, but irrelevant. It lacked everything I hoped for, in reality.¡±


    The mayor grins, as if he found my answer amusing. ¡°Oh? What kind of information could a child miss in such a book? An easy way to turn vegetables into sweets?¡±


    While it is a more balanced conversation than before, the mayor still takes me for a kid, huh... That is understandable in his position. For the sake of the conversation, I will bear with it. ¡°I had hoped for tips to chant magic without an adapter.¡±


    The mayor stares at me in disbelief. Then, he bursts out in laughter. ¡°Shooting for the stars, I see! I like it, I like it.¡± He chuckles a bit for himself, and in the span of a second turns dead serious again.


    ¡°You are more similar to my children than I thought. This passion for magic... I can almost feel the disappointment you must have had when this book contained no practical Information whatsoever. I felt the same, over twenty years ago now. But I will recommend you to not bother with the academy. Do not even try. I would not even recommend that to my own children. Should you, for whatever reason, still get to attend the academy ¨C Do not bother with adapterless chanting. Stick to the adapter.¡± The mayors green eyes look right into my own at this point. His face was clear of every however so small sign of joking.


    ¡°The way you phrase it, it sounds like you attended the magic academy yourself?¡± A flash of realisation hits me ¨C the mayor was a magician himself. I do not even have to wait for his answer, as I am certain. In hindsight, it took me an embarrassingly huge amount of time.


    ¡°You are lacking basic knowledge at some interesting places, kid.¡± There it is again, the look of tiredness, exhaustion on his face. ¡°Every governor, be it village or town, is a magician, or rather a member of the magic guild.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± This does not even surprise me at this point.


    ¡°I will shift topic now ¨C enough of this depressing talk about magic.¡± The vigour returned to his face, he even seemed a bit cheerful now. ¡°How did Brian put it again when I asked him: You are a ¡°magician¡±, and are ¡°teaching¡± him and Ione ¡°magic¡±? Are you actually repeating to them what you read in the book?¡± The tense atmosphere was blown away, as if it never existed before. It seems like this is a topic the mayor was looking forward to address the whole time.


    I could of course explain everything to him, and show him what magic I actually can do. But the whole talk was tiring. I also dislike the mayors condescending attitude. ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Well, whatever you do, please continue. While Ione has no problems socialising, Brian is very direct, and always says what he thinks. He was never able to make friends, and since Ione stays with him all the time, she has made none either. You were one of the last children I thought Brian would make friends with, but I am glad it happened. If their magic curiosity is fulfilled by harmless games, even better!


    The bratty kid is not my friend. Ione is not my friend, either, but I can respect her. I see no need to correct the mayor, though. It is beneficial for me if he thinks like he does now. Awkward silence turns in.


    ¡°Now, now, you have other things to do as well most likely, don''t you? You may go now.¡± The mayor signs me off, and I am relieved that it was finally over. I nod, and leave.

 9 Years, Village outskirts. The Sound of Magic

    9 Years, Village outskirts. The Sound of Magic


    Wind is nothing but movement of air. This given, it should be easy to recreate with acceleration magic ¨C in theory, at least. In praxis, how do I concentrate on something I can not see or touch? When I asked my parents what enveloped us all the time a while back, they stated ¡°Air¡±. Its movement is wind, and without it we die. This is they knew about it, and it is not much.


    It is easy to concentrate on a rock, or water, or the own skin. All those things are touchable, I can see them, and distinguish them from others. But something that I cannot even quite sense, and whose nature I do not understand? Even though I put a lot of thought into it, I cannot come up with an answer.


    I sigh, and look at the ground before me. Ione and her Brother are sitting cross legged, with their cups of water in front of them. The result that they strive for is heating up the water in their respective cup, having it evaporate eventually. The goal of this is different, though: They are supposed to find the connection between their will and their ability to use magic, the, as I dubbed it, ¡°Magic Muscle¡±. However, over the time I got the feeling that this is more an imaginary construct than an actual muscle in my body. This believe enhanced when, a month ago, I discovered that I could ¡°split¡± this muscle, resulting in two separately controllable, but less potent muscles. They are both capable of doing anything that the single muscle was, although having to split the output will diminish the results, so I should only split up my muscle if I have to perform multiple magic tasks at the same time.


    My main reason for researching this was the great inconvenience that befell me in winter, when I had to release my heat coating every time I wanted to use a different spell. Since the coating only needed about a tenth of my coefficient to work properly, I would still be able to use the remaining ninety percent at will. It is difficult to keep up two spells at the same time, and requires severe mental gymnastics. There does not seem to be a limit of how many times I can split the muscle, but under great efforts, I was only barely able to maintain three at a time. Perhaps with training, this could be simplified, maybe even allowing compound spells. But since my coefficient is low, splitting it up too far would render all of the spells ineffective, and there would be no gain.


    For the siblings to find this connection, they first have to understand what they want to do, and how it can be done. They need to understand the nature of heat, and how to cause it in an object. They surpassed this point a long time ago now. I asked them regularly as what they see heat, and both Iones ¡°An energy inherent to objects, and slowly evening out with objects in their surroundings¡± and Brians ¡°A power to change things from one form to another¡± satisfied me, as they would be enough draw the connection between the magic muscle and the thing itself, to manipulate it.


    Therefore, there is only one step missing for them to be finally, after all that time, able to heat water and make beginnings in magic, is for them to find their ¡°Magic muscle¡±, and use it. This is the phase they are struggling with right now. We talked a lot about how they imagined it accessing it, and they spent a lot of time focused on meditation, searching for answers in their own head. In all honesty, I am impressed by their resolve and unwillingness to give up, despite not making any visible progress whatsoever over the course of half a year, and doing nothing else than sitting in front of a cup for all this time. I did expect Ione to make it, but I figured that Brian would throw the towel after a few days, when realizing that this is not something you can learn in a single afternoon. In reality, his passion for this topic even surpasses Ione, he works harder than her, and presents me more abstract theories than her.


    The three of us grew together in a strange way, a relation like I never had before. Iones Brother has changed in his behaviour over time. He bursts out only very rarely, and he ceased his hostility against me. He actually seems to respect me a bit, even though I am younger than him. As a result, I dislike him a lot less. His determination brought me to start memorizing and calling him by his name, even though it felt weird. I still refer to him as Iones brother from time to time, out of habit.


    When he heard me say his name the first time, he smiled. All in all, the situation now is favourable over when he went on my throat on every occasion he could get.


    They tried to exchange jokes with me once, but I did not find their jokes funny, and they somehow interpreted mine as cynicism, or the pointe went over their head.


    Again, I watch both of them. Brian seems to have the plan of boiling the water by staring it to death. Ione mumbles a few unintelligible words, and a strange impression hushed over her face, like she was experiencing something out-of-the-world. I tuck an eye brow, and get ready to ask her what happened.


    A loud hissing sounds, and a giant steam cloud erupts from the cup in front of Ione. In a split second, her expression changes to shock, and she leaps backwards, pulling her brother with her. I lean backwards as well to avoid the burning cloud. Only a few seconds after, it dissipates, and Brians as well shocked face turns into wide, broad grin. ¡°You did it, sister! You did it!¡± Brian celebrates, and Ione nods, still half in disbelief.


    ¡°It appears so.¡± I comment, and get up from the trunk I was sitting on. I pick up the cup, and inspect it. The insides are dry, but very hot, so I hastily put it down again to avoid speckling my finger tips with burn blisters. ¡°How did you do it, Ione? What was the breakthrough? Did you find the magic muscle?¡± Needless to say, Brian and Ione were not the only ones thrilled about her success, it also was of great interest for me to see that my teachings finally bore fruit.


    Ione, still flustered and obviously a little overwhelmed, mumbles: ¡°I don''t know... I felt like putting what I want to change into words, and spoke them, while imagining how to achieve that change. Suddenly, a strange feeling overcame me, and only a blink later, the cup exploded.¡± While speaking, she steadily regains her composure, and at the end, she talks like she does normally, thoughtful and levelheaded. ¡°This feeling faded promptly after, and left behind a remark of emptiness.¡±


    That fit perfectly to how I felt when I was confronted with magic withdrawal for the first time. While the effects obviously speak for themselves, this explanation further certifies the fact that Ione used magic. ¡°You said you put your thoughts into words, a chant of some sort. Do you remember the exact phrase?¡±


    Ione closes her eyes for a second, after which she answers: ¡°If I remember correctly, it was along the lines of ¡°May the Water in this cup boil!¡±.¡°


    Brian has a perplexed expression on his face.. ¡°Huh? How is that gonna describe that boiling water? That is simply ordering it, isn''t it?¡± Internally, I agree with him.


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    ¡°Looking back, you are right. It made sense at the moment, seemed to fit. But now, it doesn''t.¡± Ione even admits that. I do not think that what she says is important, but rather what she thinks, be it consciously or subconsciously.


    ¡°Could you do it again?¡±, I ask her. She nods, and I especially pay attention on her doing now. She reaches into a pocket, but Brian interrupts her: ¡°No need! You can take my cup.¡± He is visibly excited, and looking forward to what is going to happen. ¡°Thanks.¡± Ione picks up Brians cup, and plants it down in front of her, while keeping distance this time.


    ¡°May the water in this cup boil!¡± , Ione exclaims. Nothing happens. ¡°Alright, I got to focus...¡± Ione inhales deeply, holds breath for a second ¨C and exhales. She inhales again, but this time chants: ¡°May the water in this cup boil!¡± Immediately, something in her expression looks different, and she takes another step back. After only a few seconds, the water explodes in to steam cloud, in the exact same fashion as it happened before. Ione bears a triumphant expression.


    It is remarkable how quick the water began to boil. This power exceeds the coefficient of my starting days by far. I have to compare it to my current coefficient. Without admonition, I vault over the tree trunk, and grab one of the cups.


    At first, Ione and Brian both were surprised by my sudden movements, but they grew accustomed to them after a few times. I dislike wasting time, and therefore I have the tendency to sprint short distances, take shortcuts, jump over things instead of taking the long way around. ¡°I would fill this cup myself, but I have no water at hand.¡± I state this as a fact, but it is my way of making requests. Almost as much as wasting time, I dislike asking people for things.


    Ione seems to understand, as she grabs her water bottle, and refills one of the two cups. I take it, and place it down on the flat stone. I concentrate, and direct my magic coefficient onto the water. Almost immediately after, the water starts boiling, and erupts in a steam cloud, in the exact same fashion like it did for Ione.


    When heating water on a stove, there is no such thing as a steam explosion, of course. Since the heat is directional in that case, water at the bottom will start to evaporate, and leave taking its path through the water in form of bubbles. With magic, there is no direction to the heat, and every drop of water is brought to boiling temperatures at the exact same moment, expanding while evaporating, and therefore forming a eruptive cloud. If I specialize the magic to only heat up the bottom, this marginally dangerous effect can be circumvented, as well.


    Right now, the time I needed to boil water is a lot shorter than Iones, since I can use a larger part of my coefficient. With practice however, Ione will surely and swiftly surpass me in this regard. I will the opportunity to conduct tests with someone that is able to handle higher firepower than myself, since I am rather limited in this regard, whether I like it or not.


    ¡° -just wonder when I will find my power...¡± I snap back, only now realizing that Ione and Brian had a vivid dialogue while I was lost in thoughts. ¡°I am sure your turn will come soon, little brother.¡± I leave them talking for themselves, and continue my thoughts. Ione was able to use magic with her voice, apparently. This was not what I expected. I expected that both of them sometime, if ever, learn using magic with the magic muscle, like I did. But Ione said she did not feel any sort of magic muscle, and I believe her. There is one possible explanation for this: There are multiple ways of accessing the magic coefficient.


    Whether there are predefined ways everyone could, in theory, use, or if there are ways a user would come up with using their creativity, I can not possibly know at this moment. Iones ways has disadvantages, she has the verbal component, which takes time, but it is perhaps easier to concentrate on that my magic muscle. All of this is just pure speculation from my part though. The only thing I know for sure is that she got access to her coefficient, which is linked to the feeling, magic ecstasy. I got used to it and can neglect it by now, but it certainly is an intense feeling. I wonder if someone thought of a spell to create this feeling on purpose, without actually having and effect on the vicinity.


    I will, first off, confirm whether Ione actually has to chant or not. Disregarding the conversation Ione and Brian were having, I ask: ¡°You felt this feeling, right?¡± Ione looks surprised by me taking word, but nods. ¡°I call it magic ecstasy, or magic euphoria.¡±


    ¡°A fitting name.¡± Ione comments, but continues to listen.


    ¡°Now, this feeling. Could you try to evoke it without actually chanting? Alas, could you try to chant without chanting? Bring the water to boil?¡± If my theory is correct, the chant itself is only a crutch, and she should be able to cast magic without it. After all, I am totally non-reliant on a verbal component. Ione, however, gives me a puzzled look.


    ¡°How that? The feeling is deeply related to what I speak, they are not two different things I could simply separate.¡± She does not even seem to consider that option for a second.


    ¡°How can you know if you have not even tried?¡± Just brushing it off because it ¡°wont work¡± seems like a stupid thing to do.


    ¡°Listen, Reiland... I know I found this power only a few dozens of minutes ago, but let me say this: Let me compare my voice to your magic muscle. What if I asked you to now use magic, but without using your magic muscle?¡± Ione seems upset over my proposal, for some reason.


    ¡°That would be impossible, no? How should I use magic without the very thing that allows me to use magic....¡± As I speak this sentence, it dawns upon me. ¡°You actually have a point.¡± This time, I made a mistake, and I dislike it. Instead of grieving over it, I should learn from it to not repeat it. ¡°Think about what I said, if against the odds something crosses your mind, do not be shy to pursue it. Until then, let us drop this topic.¡±


    Ione nods. ¡°Lets do that.¡± She still seems a bit upset, but it wont affect our further doings.


    ¡°Let us do some testing, shall we?¡±


    In this point, Ione and I agreed. I try to give Ione all types of different materials at hand, and have them incinerated with her magic voice. The hours pass, and overall with interesting results. Ione was perfectly capable of heating up other things. I placed samples on the flat rock, to prevent potential fire from spreading, and told her to heat them. Grass burned, stones turned unbearably hot, and small pebbles even started glowing, and melted away. This seemed to impress Brian quite a bit. Several hours later, I started giving Ione techniques to think about, namely point-focused heating and coefficient regulation. While on the surface our ways of magic seem to differ a lot, they actually are quite similar. Her chants did not follow any specific rule, and multiple wordings of the same sentence would have the same effect, as long as she wanted them to.


    She described this process as ¡°speaking words in a specific way that perfectly describes the specific wanted result¡±. This has a striking resemblance of my ¡°Moving my magic muscle in a way that has a specific effect as the result¡±. Are we doing the same thing, but under a different cover? What does that mean for my current magic theory? Is it flawed? Even wrong? This will require a lot of though, and testing.


    The sun dawns, and the three of us still lurk around the training place. This is unusual, even unprecedented. Normally, the siblings leave after two to three hours, but they are just as thrilled to explore this power as I am, and we totally lost track of the time over it. More time passes. It is a cloudless night, and the moon provides more than enough light. In a sense, it reminds me of the time I started learning movement manipulation, a similar kind of fever has us in its tight grip.


    We shake out of this craze as a ruckus starts forming at the village entrance. A shouting crowd leaves the entrance, torches in their hands, even a few oil lanterns.


    ¡°Brian, Ione! Where are you?¡± A loud voice sounds through the field, a voice I recognize. Ione and Brian seem to recognize it as well.


    ¡°Father?¡± Ione startles, she and Brian seem to get aware of the current time. ¡°Crap! We''re out too late!¡± Brian Hastily takes his cup, and wants to relieve the search group of its duty, followed by Ione. Before they get the chance to run off, I grab both of them by the wrists. Had they wanted, they could have easily dragged me with them, considering I am smaller and skinnier than they are. They refrain from doing so. ¡°You are aware of the promise you made?¡±


    They both nod, and Ione adds: ¡°Nobody is going to know from this.¡± I release their wrists. When I grabbed them, both of them looked a bit surprised, but it did not seem to bother them. They run off, and I follow them at a steady pace. When I reach the crowd, Ione and Brian are already in the mayors arms, and defusing the situation. The other participants seem to be relieved that the mayors children were so easily found, and they headed home since they were not longer needed. They did not pay me much attention. People already know that the three of us meet, and while some seem to wonder why the mayors children would be with me, of all other children, they are not surprised by seeing me here.


    ¡°Ione. Brian. Why did you not come home? It is late in the night! Your mother was worried. Hell, I was worried! Who knows what could have happened so late into the night?¡± The mayor seems psyched about the possibility that something happened to his children.


    ¡°We''re sorry, Father! We were so engaged in playing, we did not notice how late it was...¡± And so on. I bailed, before the mayor could come to the Idea of reprimanding me. I ran home, and unsurprisingly, found my parents asleep, and a bowl of stew on the table. They were used to my nightly escapades, after all. I eat mechanically, and go to sleep.

 9 Years, Forest. Self-manipulation

    9 Years, Forest. Self-manipulation


    There has been one thing I always was cautious with, and therefore never spend too much time with: The manipulation of my own body. Sure, I nearly incinerated my own skin, but at that time, it was needed to mitigate the cold. But not once did I manipulate my body''s movement, did accelerate or decelerate it in any form. Today, I want to change that, as to finally gain new, practically usable techniques. For this matter, I chose to venture into the forest. The usual spot a few hundred meters away from the village entrance would too high of a risk to gather unwanted attention. Acceleration of stones and heat magic was fine, the chance of people discovering it is small. Also, back then I was not as cautious as I now am to keep my doings a secret.


    It is early in the morning in autumn, I have plenty of time until I am going to meet Ione and Brian for the lessons. It has not been long since Ione learned to use her magic, but her advancements over the last weeks have been astonishing. Technique-wise, she only learned output regulation, but her usable coefficient rose at an alarming rate, to a point where she even surpasses me. To compare, we usually each start heating a cup of water at the same time, and hers is boiling more or less without delay. In addition, this is most likely not ever her limit. With further time, her magic prowess will be something to behold. Brian, invigorated by the success of his sister, is frenziedly trying to succeed as well, yet until now without visible progress.


    I lay down on leaves covering the ground. Sharpening my senses, I prepare myself to commit my first test: Adding upwards acceleration to my own body.


    Slowly, I begin to focus on my body. Not at a specific part, like my skin, but rather the body as a whole. It is harder than I thought, since I do not really know what is inside my body. I have rough estimations, all based on the autopsies I did on several animals. Those are only valid in the case that we are fundamentally built the same, of course. A weird feeling overcomes me. It has nothing to do with magic euphoria, which I sense exactly like every time before. It is a different feeling in nature, and feels like I was perpetually jumping upwards. It is extremely dissonant with the fact that I had not moved at all, and this dissonance is nauseating. Since I use only a fragment of my coefficient, it is bearable, but I lose concentration nonetheless. The feeling vanishes instantaneously.


    All it leaves is a slight sensation of disrupt, making it hard to focus. For the next minutes, I am simply lying down, and try to recollect my thoughts. Finally, I feel prepared for another go. I focus, and very slowly increase the output. The feeling returns, but this time I steeled myself beforehand, and can keep my concentration. I am still lying down, and haltingly accommodating to the feeling. After not too long of a time, I can sort of ignore it. At this point, I further increase power, and with it the feeling returns. This time, it takes less time to grow accustomed to.


    I repeat this cycle a lot of times for the next half hour. At the end, it takes me only a short amount of time to acclimatize to the change. At this point, I am using my full coefficient. It still feels different to how it feels without any influence, but the nauseating factor is gone. I stand up.


    Or at least, I try to. I want to push myself up with my elbows, which works a bit too well. The bit of force I used was supposed to get me high enough so I can use my arms as struts to get up, but it almost sent me flying ¨C I stumble around, and with great efforts manage to end up standing on my legs. Finally, I can put a finger on this strange feeling: It feels like my body is extremely light. I feel like a sudden gust could blow me over like a straw in the wind. Thinking about it, it does make sense: The innate downward acceleration is still too strong to let me levitate, but it got lessened to a high degree. Were my coefficient higher, it is very possible that I actually would have taken off had I further increased the power of my spell.


    Carefully, I take a step. I used way more force than necessary for that, and again, I struggle to not go prone. To an outsider, it most likely looks like I am in a deep state of intoxication. Even more careful, I take another step. This time I did it right, and there was no immediate danger of kissing the floor. Again, I take my time to practice walking in this state. It is unfamiliar, but it feels great once I got a hang for it. Every step is effortless, and not tiring at all. Most likely, I could walk a whole day like this without tiring out. Every now and then, I pick up the pace. Finally, I feel safe enough to try something: Jumping.


    At first, I do nothing but little hops. They bring me around three two four times higher than expected. Not only that, but I fall down slower as well. Every time I land, there is considerably less impact than one would normally expect. If I were to jump of a ledge, it would probably hurt a lot less than normal. I jump again, this time with more force. Unexpectedly, I find myself in over three meter height. A sudden panic befalls me, but it quickly dissipated since I am slowly gliding to the ground. This is actually quite entertaining.


    After this, I get more confident, and decide to just move forward for a bit. I run through the forest, barely touching the ground; jumping over bushes, fallen trees and rocks alike. Cold wind is blasting into my face, not because the air is moving against me, but because I am moving against the air. A gigantic oak is towering in front of me, and in a spark of madness, I prepare to collide with it head-on, and cling to its bark.


    Legs first, I sail into it, and manage to cushion my rush enough to not get hurt. I grab on to gnarly bark protrusions, and look down. I am roughly two meters above the ground, a previously unknown point of view. I enjoy this feeling of height for a bit, and let go of the tree afterwards. The sun is standing on its highest point now, from what I can tell through the sight-obscuring tree tops. It is time to head back, in order not to be late for the lesson with the siblings.


    I look around, in order to determine which direction would be the best. After some thought, I settle for one, and start running. Even though I did nothing else then running for the past hours, I do not feel particularly exhausted, this lightness that envelopes my body does wonders in that regard. Running fast feels good, and mixed with the magic euphoria, I feel like I could keep doing it for the entire day without ever tiring. Sadly, I do not have that option. It would raise suspicion if I would run like this at a place where somebody could see me.


    I am already almost at the forest borders, so I come to halt. I dismiss the spell I had active for all that time, a bit hesitant since it felt great.


    My body feels heavy as if filled with lead. Additionally, the nauseating feeling is back, immensely stronger than ever before. As if thousand invisible hands were dragging me to the ground, I topple, and fall over backwards. A sharp pain shoots through my head as I hit the the ground without even being able to slow down the fall. I feel sick. I try to at least sit up, but my hands slip away and I fall down into the leaves again, face first this time. I try again, and barely make it, supporting myself with my arms. I vomit on the ground, my throat burns with gastric acid. A pulsing headache is wrecking the backside of my head, where I hit the ground first. I feel dizzy, unable to get a clear thought.


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    After around an hour of trying to cope with the pain, the nausea and everything else, I feel braced enough to stand up and continue walking. I clean my face of dirt as good as possible, and go. Slowly, leaning against any trees in reach, I stumble out of the forest. It took me way longer than wanted and anticipated. When I finally reach the training spot, Brian and Ione are already waiting for me. They approach me once they spot me.


    ¡°You took your time, didn''t you?¡± Brian seems a bit impatient, and so does Ione, to a lesser extent. Their expressions immediately change once they got a better look on me. ¡°Good god, Reiland. You look terrible!¡± Ione expresses concern, unneeded concern.


    ¡°It is alright. We can start the lesson now. I hit my head a bit on my way here, that is all.¡± I say it as I feel it. There is no reason to stop the lessons, just because I feel slightly dizzy.


    ¡°Reiland, you are clearly not. You are pale like ash! You tremble like it is winter! You reek of vomit.¡± Ione seems to view this a bit differently than I do. Am I really looking that bad?


    I look down on myself. Indeed, my hands seem to tremble a bit, I did not notice. There are also specks of vomit on my robe. Weird, I thought I had put care to not stain my clothes... Apart from that, it is also covered in dirt, mud and leaves. ¡°I may have a slight concussion on the back of my head, that is all.¡± I do not like that the siblings are that concerned for me.


    ¡°A slight concussion? What did you even do? Turn around, let me see it.¡±, Ione demands. Brian has a look on his face I can not categorize.


    ¡°I am fine, I am fine. I swear.¡± Still, I turn around, albeit begrudgingly. Are they that eager to skip this lesson? They could have told me. As I said, there is no need to say it the roundabout way.


    ¡°Rei, there is blood on your head.¡± Brian says with an unusually emotionless voice. I turn around. He is pale in the face now as well. I reach for the back of my head, where the pulsing headache formed. A sharp pain brings my hand to twitch back involuntarily. Indeed. My hand is coloured red now. Funny, is it not. The first time that my body is actually covered with my own blood. For such a ludicrous reason. ¡°Heh.¡± I let out a slight laugh. ¡°Heh.¡± This gradually turns into a continuous stream of chuckles and laughter. ¡°Heh, heh. Heh. Haha. Hahahahahahahaha.... ¡­... ¡° I suddenly feel very tired. ¡°Fine, fine. You have reached your goal. You may skip the lesson today. However, do not think you can do the same thing tomorrow as well.¡± I start slowly walking into the direction of my family''s shed.


    ¡°What are you even talking about, Reiland? Come back! We''re taking you to the Doctor.¡± Ione shouts after me. Why can she not care for her own shit now? I choose to remain silent, and just keep walking.


    Suddenly, I am grabbed from behind, my arms were forcefully slung around two necks, and kept there with iron grip. ¡°You are coming with us, Rei. You need to see a doctor.¡±


    ¡°Leave me be.¡± I say with my coldest voice possible. My ability to bring forth cold voices is severely hampered by my roaring headache, so it came out more like a squeak. I try to resist, but am lacking the power to do so. In a desperate attempt to free myself, I try to make myself heavier with self-manipulation. It is very hard to concentrate while I am being dragged over the ground, and I only succeed when they already dragged me through the village entrance. Needless to say, I go in full power.


    I hear a groan from both sides, and I get a bit closer to the ground. I would celebrate that, but the dissonant feeling makes me puke, and lose concentration. They have me in their tight grip again immediately. A few villagers have already assembled to watch the spectacle. Ione and Brian are still dragging me through the streets. I am not going to forgive them this. I try to wiggle me free, but no chance.


    ¡°Come on, now, Reiland. We are almost there.¡± It was probably Iones voice, but it is hard to tell. Sight and sound turned blurry after my last attempt for freedom. I puke again. How is there even still something inside me to puke out? A waste, really. I think the last meal I had was decent. Too decent to puke it out. I wish the headache would stop. It would do that, certainly, if I was able to lay down on my bed. And rest. They wont let me. Why? I hate them.


    My arm on one side is free, now. I am only held by one person now, this could be the chance. I try to focus on myself again.


    Distant knocking.


    No matter how hard I try, it wont work. I can not focus myself, can not make my muscle react. It is irritating.


    Distant voices. ¡°Please, help us! He is hurt!¡±


    ¡°The mayors children? And... oh. Come inside.¡±


    The second person grabs onto me again. I am carried inside a building, most likely. The light shifts, but I can not make out details.


    ¡°You can put him ¡­ on this bed over here.¡± I think I know this voice, it is the village doctor''s. Fits, considering they said they would bring me to her.


    Suddenly, I go prone on a soft surface. I want to roll on my face, but someone keeps me sideways.


    ¡°Now, tell ¡­ happened to him?¡± I am only understanding fragments of the conversation now. ¡°Don''t ¡­ head ¡­ blood, all pale in the face... ¡°


    This surface is surprisingly comfortable. What is it? Not leaves, that is sure. It is too warm for that. Too soft...


    I wake up. My head is surprisingly clear. I open my eyes. I see a wooden ceiling. Judging from the colour, angle and intensity of the light shining through the windows, it is most likely late in the evening. My throat is dry, and I am hungry. How did I get here? It is not my shed. I sit upright. There are bundles of herbs hanging around, and several bottles of unidentifiable liquids stand all over the place, in shelves, on tables, some are even hanging from the ceiling as well. Right, I remember. The doctor''s house. A door leads to another room, and another door leads outside, most likely.


    I look down on myself. I am clad in a grey linen shirt, and similar pants are revealed once I pull back a blanket. Both of them are a bit oversized. Memories of what happened slowly return. I want to sink into the ground. It was not exactly my most glorious day. My head is still slightly aching, but it is absolutely bearable. I touch the back of it, only to feel some sort of fabric cover. Rags. Right, I hit my head. There was probably a stone inside this leaf pile. I sigh.


    A door opens, and I look right into the eyes of a woman. Not exactly elderly, but not young, either. Strains of grey hair, a few wrinkles all over the face. ¡°You are awake. Good.¡± She has a strict voice, and a strict expression. I simply nod. After that, she asks me a question¡°Tell me how you got injured. I did not get much out of your friends yesterday.¡±


    Wait. Yesterday? I take a look outside through the window. Indeed. What I thought to be evening, was in fact early in the morning. ¡°Where my parents here? Or do they know I am here, at least?¡± I was out overnight a few times already, but they were worried sick each time I was not there when they woke up. Therefore, I have to make sure they know.


    ¡°Don''t worry. Your mother came here yesterday. She wanted to stay by your side, but I quickly denied her that.¡± There are is a second bed standing in this room. A groan halls through the room, and a person starts squirming inside. ¡°Wait with your explanation. I have to help him.¡± Everything she says sounds like a command not to question. Strict, but not particularly unfriendly.


    I watch her doing. She removes a wet towel from his forehead, and changes it with a fresh one. Afterwards, she puts some medicine from one of the hanging bottles into a metallic spoon, and administers it to the person. He quickly stops moving afterwards. She seems finished for now.


    ¡°What does he have? An illness?¡± I ask, out of curiosity.


    ¡°I believe that is not of your interest. All you need to know is that you would not like to change place with him at this moment.¡± She restricts me, but without anger. ¡°Now, answer. What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I hit my head. A rock, probably. I do not know it exactly. My memories are a bit foggy.¡±


    ¡°As I thought. According to your friends, you behaved quite weird afterwards. The wound on the backside of your head reinforces that story, of course.¡± I could be wrong, but I think a slight smile plays around the edge of her mouth.


    ¡°When can I leave?¡±


    ¡°Oh, so eager to? Well, I wont keep you here. Actually, I would appreciate having the bed free in case something serious comes in.¡± Right, there are only two beds, and one is occupied by something that does not look like it will heal soon. ¡°Be careful of your head in the next weeks, however. Take it slow.¡±


    I nod. Then, I look down on myself. The fact that I am not wearing my clothes has not changed. The doctor seems to follow my gaze. ¡°Oh, right. Wait a second.¡± She leaves the room, and returns with my robe and underwear shortly after. ¡°I have seldom seen clothes that stained with all different bodily fluids. I hope you did not mind me washing them.¡±


    I shake my head, and catch the bundle she throws to me.


    ¡°Leave what you are currently wearing on the bed.¡± After she said that, she discretely turns around, and looks after the other patient.


    I swiftly change, and neatly fold the borrowed clothes on the bed. A thought crosses my mind, not a sweet one. ¡°What is about Payment?¡±


    ¡°Payment? Oh, right. We will figure something out, me and your parents. In a village, you do not want to owe the doctor money, or so they say. I am sure they will come by themselves regarding that, as I know Kuum and Iuli. Don''t worry about that.¡±


    I swallow. ¡°Thanks.¡± I say, but very quietly so. I do not even know whether she heard it or not.


    I head to the door, and open it to leave.


    ¡°Its alright. Also, I hope that you don''t have to see me again soon. Have a good day.¡±


    I close the door behind me.

 9 Years, Village outskirts. Envy and Pity

    9 Years, Village outskirts. Envy and Pity


    ¡°It is not working... Again...¡± A loud, frustrated sigh escapes Brians mouth. As of lately, he grew increasingly weary of making no progress. Ione, over the past months since she discovered her magic ability, made tremendous advances, while Brian watched it all and continued to sit in front of his water cup, trying to stare it into submission. He must know that this will eventually bear fruit, since it did for Ione after all, but that does not keep him from feeling left out. He even told me so. After all, he is the last of us who is yet unable to use magic.


    ¡°Faster!¡± Ione says, while throwing a stone. The stone, however, does not seem to take her command, as it flies in a completely normal manner. A few days back, Ione wished to advance from heat to acceleration magic. She does not really have to ask me, but of course, I ¡°gave her permission¡±. There is nothing left for her in heat magic, having learned both output regulation to a degree and point-focussing. Notable as well is that she shortened her chants over time, single one-word commands are enough for her now, such as ¡°Boil!¡± or ¡°Burn!¡±. Naturally, she has not been able to actually use acceleration. It took me a long time to grasp, it would have been weird had she seen behind it so quickly.


    I picked up the acceleration of stones again as well. I have mastered the magic component, but having a bit of aiming practice will probably prove beneficial should I decide to go on a hunt again. I suspended my experiments on self-manipulation for a while. It has been under two weeks since I first tried it, and got myself a concussion. The days after, I still had occasional headaches and attacks of dazedness, but I was not as mentally deranged as directly after the thing.


    It was the first time I actually apologized for something to Ione and Brian. Viewing back, my behaviour was irrational, and what they did was the correct choice. Luckily, they did not seem to have taken it the wrong way, and saw it as what it was, mental derangement and not my actual opinion.


    A rhythm ensues, Ione''s ¡°Faster!¡±, the two of us collecting stones we threw, and Brians mix of sulking and rambling about the nonsensicality of his actions. At first, I wanted to simply retrieve Iones stones with magic, they never flew outside the range of 25 meters. However, I quickly realized that focussing on a small object that far away is insanely hard if you have not mentally marked it as it was close, and additionally Ione disliked me taking her work.


    In some distance, around forty meters away, I arranged the flat stone as something like a practice target, and using some charcoal I picked up somewhere earlier, I drew a point on it. This was the spot I sought to hit. Ione did not have any target, but rather was focused on accelerating the stone at all. Getting it into places would come after that.


    Since Ione reached the point of being able to use magic, our daily training time approached four to five hours, instead of the former two to three. This was also a factor in Iones rapid advance, and she told me that she does some practice before we meet as well. We started around noon, and would keep at it until late in the afternoon. However, their father made clear they had to be back until dawn. I was not particularly excited about having another search party coming after us, either.


    ¡°Ah, fuck it!¡± An annoyed shout is disrupting the rhythm. I turn around, only to see Brian empty his water cup in a single gulp. He rises up, and joins us at the crudely drawn throwing line. ¡°Anyone got a few stones extra? I''m gonna throw as well.¡±


    A slight hint of disappointment hushes over my face, without me being able to stop it. ¡°Do you not think you should find your magic before doing this?¡± Ione looks over to me, then to Brian, and nods in approval of my words.


    ¡°I''ve sat there long enough! I''m done with it. Sitting there and achieving nothing, it doesn''t even bore me, it just straight-up sucks me dry of my will to do anything, it is depressing.¡± To remain fair, he did that for a very, very long time now, over a year, and a few hours daily. From his perspective, it is probably justified to be upset.


    I shrug. ¡°I have a few spare stones. It is your choice how to spend your time.¡± I take a handful of stones out of the tree trunk, and hand them over. Every time I was in the forest and spotted a fitting stone, I took it, and finally stashed it here. Over time, a decent collection amassed, thirty-seven stones with similar weight and size.


    Brian aggressively proceeds to throw a stone with the maximum of momentum he can offer. Unaided, it only flies a little further than Iones stones. Still, Brian seems to have took satisfaction in that act. Again, and again, he tosses stones as hard as he can. A new rhythm ensues, quite more pleasant than the last one. The sound of stones swooshing through the air, going to reclaim said stones side to side, it has something deeply meditative to it.


    Time passes. Brians mood lifted over the course of the hours, and he visibly puts all his energy into this matter. If he continues, his arms are sure to be sore tomorrow. He does not seem to care, however. At this point, I have no problems hitting the marked spot basically every time, and the flat stone volunteering as target is showing marks of abrasion at the point of impact.


    Brian suddenly raises his voice. ¡°Hey, sister. Do you think dad will have anything against us bringing a guest to dinner today?¡± Ione seems a bit surprised, but not overly so. ¡°I think not. He does it all the time, after all. We have to ask him and mother first, though.¡± ¡°Okay, lets do that.¡±


    ¡°Who are you talking about? Who are you going to invite?¡± It is not really anything of my business, yet I am a little interested. However, they only give me a weird look. Understandable, I would not like it either if they would be asking me about what I do after our lessons. It is their free time, after all.


    Brian quickly dispels my thoughts ¡°I don''t know who else Ione might be thinking of, but I thought of you, Rei.¡± Ione nods.


    ¡°Oh. I see.¡± What brought him to that idea now? Why now? I mean, I have time. I always do. I relatively certain mother and father would not mind me missing a dinner, they do not overly when I stay out late at times at least. But why would they invite me. Do they have any backhand thoughts?


    ¡°I mean, sure. I have time. I guess.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you do? Great! I will quickly go and ask!¡± Like that, Brian was gone. I and Ione are still standing there. There is slight awkwardness in the air. Still, why would Brian propose something like that? I thought he hated me. Sure, he became docile. He calls me ¡°Rei¡±, a shortened form only my mother calls me. I do not like him doing that, but I was not able to talk him out of it. It is his form of showing depreciation, probably. Is he going to mix something into my food? No, that would not fit him. He is too straightforward that underhanded tactics. Why then...


    I do not dislike him, though. I appreciate all the effort he makes, and therefore can overlook his obvious hatred against me. I respect him, in a way. This is also the reason why I did accept the invitation. This, and not the fact that stew every time starts to get a bit boring. Especially not the fact that I even somewhat enjoy to spend time with the mayors children.


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    Brian returns a few minutes after. ¡°Dad said its okay!¡± He shouts, even before he gets into talking range. ¡°Dinner''s like always, in an hour and a half.¡± Ione states. There was still one hour of training time left.


    ¡°So, in the meantime...¡± Brian starts, leaving the end blank. ¡°We train further.¡± I finish his sentence. Brian does not seem to agree.¡°Ah, I''ve got a better Idea. You come over, and I show you my room!¡±


    Why would he do that? All this time, he voiced no real complain about his training. But now, he wants to delay it in favour of showing me his stuff? What is up with him? What is he scheming? I decide to ask. ¡°Why? Why would you? What for?¡±


    Brian seems surprised. ¡°What for, Rei? Do I need a reason to show my room to a friend?¡±


    A friend. That is what he said. In case I have not misheard him. Does he really view me as a friend? I have never had a friend, so I can not really say what that would be like. I do not think of them as my friends. Sure, we spend a lot of time together. But that is only for teaching them magic. If that would fall away, they would have no reasons to interact with me, right? I would have no reasons to interact with them, right?


    He is most likely scheming something. But, I see no reason to deny. It could be interesting to see how he lives. ¡°Okay, as you want.¡± Brians face brightens up. ¡°Great! Let''s go, then!¡± ¡°Do not expect me to show you my room in return, though. It would be a very short trip.¡± After all, we only possess one room, and there is not all too much in it except for a rudimentary kitchen and spots to sleep. ¡°Alright, alright, got it!¡± Brian chuckles a bit. Did he take that as a joke? It was the truth, though.


    Ione and Brian start going to their house, and I follow them. I am not extraordinarily dirty, and neither are my clothes. They got cleaned really well by the village doctor, back when I was at her place with my concussion. She even got rid of all those blood stains somehow. I should maybe ask her for instructions on that sometime. In the meantime, a bit of dirt and dust had speckled it, but it is still somewhat presentable in the eyes of others. I, myself, do not care about looks, but I can not come around the fact that others might.


    We are standing in front of their door. Instead of knocking, Ione simply pushes the door open. It was not locked, apparently. Brian announces our presence with a hearty shout. ¡°MOM! DAD! We''re back!¡± A muffled ¡°Oh, so early? Well, dinner is ready in an hour!¡± sounds through the hallway like an echo. I recognize the voice, it is the mayors wife. ¡°We got some time, then.¡± Ione remarks. Brian gestures me to follow, and we climb the stairs. The siblings have a room for themselves, on the second storey, even.


    The mayors house is big. Not big in a common sense, but even bigger. They may have even larger buildings elsewhere, but this house is easily by far the largest house I have ever seen, and probably will ever see. It even inspires a tiny bit of awe in me, considering I lived in a shack not even comparing to a single room here. Sure, I have been here once before, but only now I can really see that fact. Last time, I was a bit too distracted by the imminent conversation with the house''s owner.


    ¡°Here we are!¡± Brian demonstratively pushes the door open. Like every room in the house, you almost call it a mansion, there was a wooden floor and a colourful wallpaper covering the walls. In two of the four walls windows were embedded, flooding the room with sunlight. An oil lamp was standing on the bedside table of a bunk bed, in case the light outside was too dim. The bed had mattresses, pillows and blankets. It is an astonishing sight.


    ¡°Look, here is our bed. Then, here is our closet, take a look inside! Winter clothes, summer, autumn... my spare boots, Iones underwear...¡± Ione scornfully looks at Brian in reaction to that remark, but he does not even seem to notice it. I feel dull. A bitter taste inhabits my mouth. ¡°Here, our own little book collection. ¡°The adventures of the little gnome¡±, I used to love that book when I was younger!¡±


    I think back to my own room. Windows, none to speak or think of. Shared with my parents, serving as a kitchen and living room at the same time as my bedroom, and the bedroom of my parents. The floor is just dirt, and my ¡°mattress¡± a pile of straw. My ¡°blanket¡±, patched up more times than I could count. My ¡°wardrobe¡±, the robe I have at my skin this moment. My ¡°book collection¡±, reduced to nothing after the seizure of Arstibals gift.


    ¡°Here is my collection of games, this set of dice I got when I turned twelve.¡± I gulp. A lump has formed in throat. I feel empty. Lonely. ¡°This pocket knife I got a while ago, but I have no real need for it...¡± Small tears start forming in my eyes. I do not understand why. Do I envy Brian? Ione? For their great room? Their fantastic things? Do I pity myself for the dirt-hole I live it? The rags I wear? None of those feelings are rational. They do not change anything, only bear bad things. Jealousy. Envy.


    Still, those feelings are there. Unfazed, not even realizing, Brian continues. Ione watches him and me in turns, bearing a unrecognizable expression. ¡°An anatomy book! Dad allowed me to borrow it. It is very interesting, do you want to take a look, Rei?¡± Only now, his view returns to me.


    At this point, I lost myself. I feel bad, outright miserable. I hate myself for feeling that way. It is irrational. Yet, I can not change it, no matter how hard I try. How hard I try to simply swipe those thoughts away, it wont work. Tears are running down my face. The lump in my throat seems to have reached the size of a pumpkin. The first time in the many minutes Brian was proudly reporting every detail about his room, I raised my voice. I hate myself for how shaken and cracking it is. ¡°Do you want me to feel bad, Brian?¡± My face felt hot, it was probably red as a beet now.


    Brian expression turned shocked, taken aback in an instant. ¡°No! Why would you think that, Rei? I would never...¡± I try, once again, to get my calm. Explain my behaviour in a cool, regulated manner. Congratulate him for his amazing room. I try. I really want to do it. But I can not. ¡°Then..¡± A pity sob escapes my mouth. ¡° why... ¡° Another one. And another. And another. Tears start flowing from my eyes in rivers. My nose runs wild, I feel snot mixing with my flowing tears. Uncontrollably, I sob.


    ¡°It''s alright, Rei... It''s alright...¡± I hear those words, and I feel someone pressing me against their shoulder. It is not a bad feeling, crying on someones shoulder. Or rather, it is a bad feeling, but the bad feeling subsides. Once the bad feeling subsides, you feel better than before. A hand is caressing my hair, I lack both will and determination to stop it.


    After some time, the door to the room opens, as I vaguely hear it squeaking in its angles. ¡°What is going on here?¡± A almost growling voice, I connect it to the mayor. ¡°I don''t know, he just suddenly started to...¡± Iones voice. The one holding me must be Brian, then. It does not really matter. I am not crying because I envy him. I am because I pity myself. Hell, why am I even crying? Stop it.


    I stop. A second after, I stop stopping, involuntarily. ¡°Its alright... Its alright...¡± Strange. I have not cried in years. In fact, I can not even recall the last time I cried. I did not when I hit my head. I would have had a reason, back then. It had hurt like a thousand bee stings. I did not back then. Yet, now... for a reason as trivial as this...


    Eventually, calmness starts seeping inside my thoughts. My sobs subside, and my tears as well. I stand up, and look in Brians face. He has a pained expression, probably unsure what to do and say.


    His shirt is wet with tears. I wipe my face with my robe, cleaning it of tears and snod. ¡°I ¨C I am sorry. I lost myself.¡± A apology is due. At this point, I owe him one. Weird. It has been the second time I truly apologized to someone, the same persons nonetheless, in a span of a few weeks.


    Brian smiles, although very wryly. ¡°Like I said you, a hundred times now ¨C Its alright. I did not realize this affected you this much. In fact, I am sorry. I know your family is poor, and...¡± This time, I stop him with a small wave of my hand. Fired up by the awkwardness of the situation, I decide to say something I normally would not. ¡°Let us be friends?¡±


    Brian energetically nods, and adds: ¡°I thought we had been all the time, Rei...¡± At least half of his offence is probably played up for show. Right. I had been blind, to not see it. He had seen me as a friend. And I refused to believe him that, even when he told me so. Truly, truly foolish. Thought all of his doing were because he resented me. In what twisted mindset did that ever make sense? I have been foolish... I look up to him. After all, he was still a head larger than me. Hesitantly, I stretched out my hand as in initiating a handshake. Brian grabs my hand, and shakes it good.


    Ione stands up, she had been sitting on the lower bunk bed up until now. ¡°Good we have seen through that, now. Come down. I think dinner is ready.¡±


    Brian and I nod in unison. ¡°Yes, lets go downstairs.¡±

 9 Years, Village Outskirts. Get a good grip on it!

    9 Years, Village Outskirts. Get a good grip on it!


    Whoosh! Three stones fly through the air, in varying speeds. One flies measly ten to fifteen meters, another one hits a flat stone in the distance, leaving a small dust cloud where it impacts, and the third one sails far over the stone, landing over fifty meters behind. Needless to say, the third stone belongs to Ione. Three days ago, she figured out movement manipulation, with a little guidance from myself. She has been training it since, and her results are truly speaking for themself. Not only did she break all my prior distance records, she even did so with ease.


    The second stone belongs to me. In the last week, I have again and again put it further in the back, yet I have been able to hit it every single time, except for a few. I redeploy it at different positions every time, as to be able to train my general aim, and not my aim for a specific point, but that had no impact on the results. I should go out in the forest and hunt soon. Having a live, moving target is completely different to shooting an immobile stone. However, I should not tell Brian of that. He despises violence and killing, especially against animals. Brian is my friend, so I do not want to hurt his feelings, although I do still not understand why it would hurt him if I killed an animal. It is not his pet, is it?


    It still feels very weird to refer to him as my friend. To refer to any person as my friend, really. I never had one before. I do not even fully know what that means and implies, being a friend. But after I burst out in tears last week in their room, and Brian comforted me, even for minutes long, while I was nothing but a pathetic crying bundle. I felt that I owed him to offer my friendship afterwards, which he accepted. I am doing my best.


    Speaking of him, the first and closest stone belongs to him. His throws are not bad, by no means. For a thirteen-year old with no magical assist, that is. A thirteen-year old very skilled in throwing stones, but still a thirteen-year old. However, It does not seem to dissatisfy him any more. He seems hell-bent on overcoming me and Ione with only the power of his muscles, and if I would not know better, I would have guessed that he will surpass us in a week or so. All his fancy technique, his spinning and gracefully twisting into the throw, the power of his arm far surpassing mine, will mean nothing in the face of magic. Its the reason why a magic guild and not a fighter''s guild is ruling this country.


    Brian only rarely trains with the water cup now. I, and Ione, try to get him to every once in a while, but he refuses mostly, and if he does start, he also stops very quickly, and always seems sour after it. I am wondering whether or not he actually gave up on learning magic.


    We are out of stones. Since our travel times to get the stones are that different, everyone going to get his own stone would not be efficient, therefore I and Brian tag along with Ione as she goes collecting hers, while we pick up our stone along the way. I do so with a little magic assist, because I can. All in all, we throw for maybe three, and then collect for five minutes. It may not be very efficient, but on our walks, conversations develop. I am very active in them when they are magic-related, and remarkably less so if they are not, although I try, at least.


    This time, Brian starts it. ¡°I think I understood movement now!¡±


    What an interesting thing to say, interesting and also unbelievable. But, in doubts for the accused, so I will assume he is right and look where it goes. ¡°You did?¡± I look over to Ione, and see an expression on her face I have learned to read as ¡°Reasonable doubt¡± over the long time we spent together.


    ¡°I think I did, at least. See, I have watched stones fly for so long now, have so many stones, how could I have not understood it by now?¡± He seems very excited about bringing us this message.


    ¡°It definitely did not work the same way for me. Wished it would.¡± Ione expresses her doubt with words now, but in a backhanded manner. I agree with her, but I want to see if all of this leads to something. ¡°If you understood movement and the energy behind it, you can enhance it with magic. That is how it works. Can you do that?¡±


    Brian snaps back, having taken that as an insult, somehow. ¡°Of course not! I have not found my magic yet, you both know that. I -¡± He stops from one split second to another, and grows very, very silent. He nods, and we continue our way after that. The conversation steers into discussion of mid-air direction change after that, but Ione and me are the only ones partaking in it. Brian does not come out of his silence, and walks a few meters behind us. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals that he has a anticipating smile on his face. He is beaming with energy, and his eyes seem to be directed inward. If I were to project that behaviour onto me, I could think he got an idea he wants to test.


    Not minding Brian''s strange behaviour, the discussion continues. Do complicated movement patterns have to be announced beforehand? Or do you do it after the throw, with added commands? This is regarding Iones use of magic, of course. Direction change is a triviality for me, but Ione struggles with it. We reach the stones, and Ione swiftly collects them while I watch. Once she is done, we return to the throwing line, continuing our conversation where we left off. Brian still does his own thing, trotting behind us. Silence returns after we pass the line. I restricted conversation while throwing, as to not distract each other, and me. Safe for Ione''s chants, of course. She can not help it.


    Everyone of us has ten stones. Since the ground is little more than flat, hard dirt and dust, with a few weeds sprouting here and there, they are easily spotted. Can I change direction without losing speed? This question circles in my head, since a few days already. If so, it would grant me access to a lot very advanced techniques, which I developed, but simply am not able to use. How I change direction now is fairly inefficient, I slow the stones velocity down, only to add velocity in a different direction. It gets the job done, maybe, but lacks power build up, and will not work for very high speeds.


    ¡°Faster! Faster! Faster! Faster!¡± Every few seconds, Iones chants her spell, always sounding the same, although not monotonous. Her voice has something deeply vibrant to it while chanting, almost a bit hypnotic to listen to. I am through with my stones as well. I look over to Brian. He is sitting at his spot, looking at his stone. Right next to him, another nine stones lie on the ground. I want to tell him we''re done, but Ione holds me back. ¡°Give him some time.¡± I nod, and we go on the way to collect stones.


    Once we return, Brian seems to be anticipating us, and as soon as we cross the line, he lines up for a throw wordlessly, and seems to put all his power into it. It flies down the way perfectly normal. Brian sits down again, taking the next stone, and continues to brood over it, unintelligibly mumbling from time to time.


    Ione and I continue with throwing our stones. It is probably for the better to just leave Brian be, no need to interfere if it does no harm.


    Time flies by, as always when using magic. This is at least partly due to magic euphoria, which makes everything seem to pass faster. We just came back from collecting, and are currently throwing again. A stone passes my left, where it did not for a while. A glance over my shoulder reveals Brian standing on my left, all of his stone in close vicinity for quick access. He is already taking the next one, and makes a weird gesture with both his hands enclosing the stone. After that, he twists, twirls, and throws the stone with all his power. Nothing unusual happens. As every time before.


    I concentrate on my own stones again. I feel like at this point, I would be able to hit the target eyes closed, had I acquired it first. I try it. After opening my eyes a few seconds later, it is apparent that I missed. By a wide degree as well. Would have been too good to be true, I guess. How could I remove the visual component?


    Can I, using magic, see with my eyes closed, or covered? What kind of magic would I have to use for that? Light magic? Does that even exist, is light its own energy type? I do not think so, it is probably a sub-category of warmth. Sun rays are warm, after all. But what distinguishes light from warmth? Closed ovens are as warm as open ones, and Bodies radiate heat even without glowing at all. Maybe light becomes warmth after hitting a surface, and is its own energy before? Questions over questions. Maybe, at the magic academy, they would have answers to those questions. The adapter interests me none, but all the other knowledge... Maybe I should attend one day, after all. Maybe even Arstibal will let me in. Maybe even...


    A stone passes me on the left. It impacts, a few meters next to my target stone, leaving a dust cloud.


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    ¡°152 Meters... Not my best shot.¡± The tone in which they are spoken deeply contradicts the content of the words. I turn around. Brian is standing there, a beaming smile on his face, joyous from one ear to another. Incidently, the stone flew about one-hundred and fifty meters indeed, as it is the distance I have set my target up on. I doubt that Brian knows that, though. I am a bit at a loss for words, honestly. My mouth is not agape, this feat costs me a lot of my willpower.


    ¡°Rei, why are you looking at me like this? I did it, right? There is nothing wrong, right?¡± Hearing that, I quickly normalize, meaning empty, my facial expression. ¡°You did it. Congratulations.¡± Ione, hearing that, turns around as well, shaken out of her concentration. ¡°You did it, Brian?¡± Did she not see it? Or did she thought it was my shot?


    ¡°Yes! I did it! Sister, I did it!¡± Brian seems wanting to emphasize the fact that he did it. It is his right, though. It is not an everyday feat. ¡°That''s great! Now both of us did it at last, huh...¡±


    Yet, something feels off. Surreal. Brian did manage to immediately handle movement manipulation? What''s even weirder, the power behind his throw... He immediately came almost as far as me. Nowadays, I could perhaps reach two-hundred using my full coefficient. That is, without special techniques like tying a stone to a string, or similar things. With that, reach is and never was a problem. Accuracy, though.


    Sure, according to Arstibals test, Brian had the highest coefficient. By a lot, compared to me. Still, compared to Iones usable coefficient when she started off, it seems ridiculously high. Are those fifteen points really making such a difference? Or is there something else, something I have overlooked?


    There is only one way to find out: Ask him. ¡°How did you find your magic? I did not hear you chant like Ione, did you find the magic muscle? What about magic euphoria?¡±


    ¡°That are a lot of questions, Rei... I will think. ¡°How did you find it¡±, how did you find it? It just was there, clear how to use from a moment to another.¡± Ione nods, and adds: ¡°I can only describe it the same way for me.¡± Looking back, it also was what happened with me. From the moment I used the magic adapter, I felt that there was this magic muscle I could use. Like it had been there since ever, and I had simply been ignorant to that fact. Thinking back, it had already been over three years since then.


    ¡°I also still don''t know what you mean with the ¡°magic muscle.¡± Upon hearing that, I keep a sigh for myself. Yet again, something new and unexplained opened up, just when I thought I had widely figured it out. But, there is no helping it. ¡°Can you describe how you did it? Or actually, can you repeat it?¡± Brian nods. I keep a close look on everything he does now. Ione, right next to me, does the same.


    Brian, seemingly fully aware that our gazes lie upon him, picks up a stone with a fancy gesture, and holds it in his right hand, his throwing arm. After that, he grasps into the air with is left, and closes to a fist. Then, he encloses the stone with both hands, and makes movements like he would be forming something, maybe clay, or kneading dough. Then, he releases it, throwing it with all his power.


    Whether expected or unexpected, the stone sails through the air, and impacts at roughly half the way between the line and the practice target. Without a doubt, magic. ¡°Explain what you were doing there, please! It looked like you were holding something in your hands, and pressing on it. The stone?¡± Ione started asking questions before I got the chance to. ¡°I will explain! Okay, it is like this. Rei, you explained us all about energy, right? How it affects everything? How magic is only another for, of energy? Since I understand movement, I can also form movement! Easy! I take magic energy, form it into movement, and stick it onto a stone!¡± Brian is telling this very excitedly.


    That makes an surprising amount of sense, and no sense at the same time. To shape energy, you would have to touch it first. Magic is not some sort of clay. Yet, Brian claims that is what he does. Ridiculous, though I will try to keep that judgement to myself. Brian used magic, the goal he, and I, worked towards for such a long time. Does it really matter how he did it? I can still secretly think that he is wrong. ¡°The stone did not fly nearly as far as last time. What is the reason for that?¡±


    Brians face brightens up even further upon hearing my question. ¡°Easy! I took more energy before, so it flew farther. Makes sense, right?¡± Not only did he prove a gigantic magic power, he also uses output regulation from the get-go. I do not understand him. I wanted to keep back, do not question his words. Yet, his claims... ¡°But, you can not just touch magic like it is clay! It is a principality that it does not interact with matter, its just not possible to do.¡±


    Brian does not take that very well. ¡°Well, of course you can! I did it, that is proof enough!¡±


    ¡°No, you cannot! There must be a different thing working here, maybe you are using a shortcut or...¡± I said I would not undermine his claims, but they are too outrageous. Iones way, I can see that. It is merely using the voice as the muscle, instead of the muscle. But this? It is completely different. Brian must be fallen victim to a wrong assumption. Maybe he is using his hands as a muscle, or maybe...


    My thought torrent came to a halt, as I saw Brian''s hurt expression. ¡°Maybe you are right, Rei. YOU are not able to do it. YOU can not touch magic.¡± Ione does not come to my side in this one. ¡°Brian finally used magic, that is what counts, right? Don''t get hot-headed over the details, now.¡±


    Fine. What does it even matter? Brian found his magic. That is all that counts, right? Of course it is. ¡°Fine! Brian, I am sorry. Forget everything I said. Actually, forget all of it! You can use magic. Great. Train it or something, I guess.¡± I turn around, ready to get going with my stones, again.


    ¡°You are being a jerk, Rei! Why?! It is not like you!¡± Hearing that shout coming from behind my back, I wince. A jerk? Why would he call me that?


    ¡°Are you mad because I can use magic? Is that it? Why would you be?¡± Of course I am not mad. Why would I be? It has been our goal, all the time. We have reached it, now.


    ¡°WHAT exactly do you want me to do? I said it was great! You discovered your power! Not only that, you immediately learned two advanced techniques, ones that I needed weeks to accomplish! You showed power way higher than what I have seen to this day! Great! I SAID all of that already! WHAT else do you want me to say? Do you want me to give you a medal? Do you want a MEDAL?¡±


    Silence. Only after the fact I realized how far I raised my voice for those words. Silence.


    Eventually, Brian speaks up. I do not see him, as I am still staring at the throwing range. I hear him as clear as only possible, though. ¡°Rei? Are you... Jealous?¡±


    This question lingers through the air, unwilling to dissipate until answered. Am I jealous? I ask this question to myself. When acting emotionally, my actions are not lined up with my thoughts. I act on impulses. Do, and say, things that, under a second thought, would never have prevailed. I hate it.


    I need to clear my head. Think. Rationally. I raise my hand, form a fist to give myself a blow. Then, I realize that this would not be a good Idea. Rationally, it would be a bad thing to do. This revelation brings me back, makes my thoughts more level-headed. Yet, I gulp, since I dislike what I am about to say.


    ¡°Yes. I am... How could I not?¡± Speaking those words, I turn around. Ione sits on the trunk, not really participating in this. Brian just looks into my eyes. ¡°Oh, Rei... I wasn''t aware...¡± He approaches me, and tries to give me a hug. I squirm, and he ceases his attempts. He is towering me by a head, I am not really comfortable with it.


    Brian sits down, and gestures me to do the same. I sit down legs crossed as well. ¡°Listen, Rei... I do not understand much from magic. I may be talented in it. I may have power... Or at least, you and this magician said so. Since some people have more of that than others, it is always going to be unfair. You can be angry at that. Its okay! But, think of your own achievements! You thought yourself magic, through self-study and a book! You developed complicated, wondrous techniques! Mastered Heat and Movement! And most of all, you taught all of that to us, my sister and me! Without you, we would still be able to use magic as good as a brown-speckled horse! Our magic, that is not our, but your achievement! While we learned from you, you discovered all of it by yourself! Two years ago, when you where Seven! If anything, I would have to be jealous of you! You are far more amazing than I could ever be, having achieved power not by birth, but by your own hard work!¡±


    His tirade is over. Against all odds, I actually feel better now. Brian raised valid points. As a rational person, I can not come around adjusting my position after hearing them. The praise I received has nothing to do with that, naturally. I get up, shake out my legs to keep them from going numb, and take a deep breath. Seeing that Brian still looks at me, I nod in his direction. ¡°Thanks.¡± A relieved look runs over his face.


    In all honesty, I am interested in what Brian can do with his magic. It may contradict most of what I know about magic so far, but when thinking over it, that only means I am on the verge of learning something new, which I always had been excited about. ¡°Let us do testing, then! Brian, we got a lot of things to try.¡±


    Brian nods. ¡°Tomorrow? Very early?¡± I look up, realizing that the deadline is nearing. I nod. ¡°Yes. Sounds good.¡± I look over to Ione. ¡°You can come if you want, or you do not. It is up to you.¡±


    Ione looks at Brian first, then at me, and quickly gives her answer. ¡°I think I will come. I can''t miss out on my brother''s magic, can I?¡± Brian''s face is beaming as bright as ever. ¡°Great! Until tomorrow!¡±


    Like that, our ways part after the short, filled with chit-chat way to the village entrance. While the siblings head right into the centre, I take a path on the peripheries, following the wooden wall enclosing the village. I leave through a small gate in the back, and shortly after arrive at our shed. I push open the door. Father and Mother are sitting on stools, and he is rubbing her left leg with a green, leafy paste. ¡°Now... That should help.¡± Father finishes as the door swings open. ¡°Thank you, Darling... You know I would have gone to the healer myself, but the leg is just...¡± Pain swings in her voice. I do not know whether or not it fully is of physical nature. ¡°I know, I know. It''s alright.¡± Father plants a kiss on Mothers lips, and turns around to me. ¡°Is it not a bit early, Reiland?¡±


    ¡°We stopped a bit earlier today... Starting even earlier tomorrow in return.¡± Normally, I remain on site a bit after Ione and Brian leave, and sort my thoughts while the sun sets. Today, I felt like I rather should get some extra sleep.


    ¡°There is some stew in the pot. Help yourself with it.¡± Father remarks that, and faces Mother again. As of lately, her leg got even worse. Father spends a lot of time with her, and does things she normally would have done. Leaving the house is out of question for her.


    I take a glance in the pot. Water, and a few plants. Not quite vegetables, rather a mixture of common herbs and weed that may barely count as herb as well. I think back at the Stews we used to have. Rich vegetables. Mushrooms. Meat, even if it was frog. They even where creamy, when we had enough money to buy starch. Water with herbs is just not as filling as that. My ribs are more visible than they used to be.


    I eat all the leftover soup, assuming that my parents already had their share. Then, I head to bed. Surprisingly, It does not even take long for me to fall asleep.


    Dream 3


    I walk along a wide, straight path. It is barely more than trampled dirt, but stretches up to the horizon. In the distance, mountains tower, but they seem to far to be reached. Since I have nothing else to do, I pick up the pace. Walking, even running seems easy and light. Runner''s High envelops me. Then, a sharp pain. I try to ignore it, just run further. I manage for what seems a minute, but my speed dropped tremendously. Everything seems heavy, tiresome, cumbersome. Finally, I take a look down at my legs. A bloody stump is flailing through the air where my left leg was, while I jump forwards on my right. A crimson trail leads to the leg, left on the path back when the pain set in. Panicking, I stumble back, and try to reattach the leg. It does not work. Yet, I try. And try. And try.


    Until everything fades to black...

 9 Years, Forest. Carnage

    <div>


    9 Years, Forest. Carnage


    ¡°Sis! Rei! Come over, I found something!¡± A loud shout sounds through the forest, originating about fifteen meters from my position. ¡°What is it, Brian?¡± Ione, walking not too far from myself as well, answers. She strolls to his position, and I do so as well. It is early ¨C no more than a few hours after sunrise. Since Brian learned how to use magic, the times at which we meet became more and more irregular.


    One day, we would meet like usual in the afternoon, but the next as early as the first bird''s song. This usually correlates to how close we were to a new discovery, or a special feat, the evening before. In return, when starting early, we also end our practice before evening. Concentrating on magic for an extended period can wear you out, and once this point is reached, there usually is not much to gain by continuing. The method of magic used seems to have an effect on the rate at which you tire, with Ione getting a headache comparably quickly, myself after a few hours, and Brian having a seemingly bottomless pool of stamina.


    The fact that we do not train all day does not mean we are not close, however. If our session starts and stops early, we do other stuff in the afternoon. Or rather, Ione and Brian are doing other stuff, and I tag along. They started inviting me to it. Brian did, to be precise. Without much experience in that regard, my uneducated guess would be that he does this because we are friends. I think back, to our first real encounter ¨C the marketplace, where Arstibal held the testings. He certainly was a different person back then.


    On the other hand, when we start practising late, we meet in the morning ¨C exactly like today. This means I have no time to prepare anything for our actual lessons, but looking at it, this is not needed any more. Instead of lessons, it is more like practising, and growing, together.


    Today, we went on a forest trip. It has nothing to do with magic, its rather rummaging through the woods, searching for curiosities, and other points of interest. Brian seems eager to spot animals, as well. I once asked him why he held no animal at his house, a dog perhaps. He got a sad expression and said his father would not allow him to.


    ¡°Now, what have you found?¡± I finally caught up to Brian, and take a peek at what he leans over.


    ¡°An anthill!¡± He points at the conglomeration of mold, fungi and rotting twigs, from which countless ants emerge in all directions. A particularly broad stream of ants transports white, squirming maggots, which enter the ant''s nest to never be seen again. ¡°Gross!¡± Ione states, but without disgust in her voice.


    ¡°Let us go, and look where the ants get all those maggots from.¡±, I suggest. ¡°Perhaps we will see something interesting there.¡±


    ¡°Alright!¡± Brian leads way. Since leaves are covering the ground, it would have been hard to see the ant trail, were there not the countless white dots marking it. It reaches surprisingly far into the forest. Before long, a putrid stench is digging into our nostrils ¨C the stench of decaying meat. Ione starts covering her nose, while Brian seems to grow increasingly uncomfortable.


    We continue our way nonetheless, and discover a sight unlike everything I''ve seen before, with almost grotesque levels of savagery and beauty. A boar head lies on a large patch of moss. The whole ground is covered in rotting meat shreds, bone pieces, dark-red blood. A dark cloud of flies is hovering over the scenery, thick enough to hinder sight, and emitting a loud, constant buzzing. Masses of larvae are squirming all over the ground.


    The whole boar seems to have been torn to shreds, tiny enough to count as mincemeat. It''s head however is not even scratched, although covered in blood. If it was not punctured by maggots, it would look like it still belonged to a functioning body. Needless to say, the stench was unbearable here.


    Ione is very pale, and Brian is as well. She seems to try to contain herself, but she fails horribly. Ione vomits into a nearby bush, her back turned to us. ¡°What in hell... ¡° Brian whispers, but loud enough for me to understand. ¡°Who would do something like that? How cruel...¡± Uttering those words, he stares at the abhorrent view in disbelief. Tears start forming at the edge of his eyes. I can not tell whether the stench is driving them or not.


    The excessive odor is breathtaking, but other than that, the sight does not particularly move me. I am too interested in how it came to be to bother with the cruel way this boar was taken out of life. Therefore, I analyse the situation. Something big, and incredibly powerful, attacked the boar. However, it was not thoughtless while doing so, since it did not even scratch the head. It most likely tore the body to shreds after separating the head. Maybe this happened out of cruelty, or because the attacker is not able to eat large chunks. I think of this as unlikely, though. There are flattened bushes, broken branches on surrounding trees, and a closer look at the surroundings revealed large paw prints, the size of a large plate. Whatever did this was undeniably big. The most puzzling thing though is something different: Why did it went the extra way of leaving the head intact, but shredding everything else?


    ¡°This poor animal...¡± Brian found courage to speak up loudly now. Ione seems to have composed at least a bit, and watches us from some distance now. When I give her a sign to come over, she simply shakes her head in refusal. Brian looks like he could burst out into tears every moment, and I am at a loss what to do.


    ¡°It is just the way of nature.¡± I try to comfort the sulking Brian. He snaps back, to my surprise.


    ¡°The way of nature? Would you say that as well if the being lying here was someone close to you? Or you?¡± He seems very upset over my statement.


    ¡°I understand you just fine even if you lower your voice.¡± What is his problem? There are hunters and prey. This is nothing new. Brian should be focusing on the fact that there is something out there capable of mincing a Boar. ¡°To answer your question, yes, I would. If hunters do not prey, how are they going to survive? It is no use sulking over things you can not change.¡±


    ¡°They should just eat plants. No harm done, everyone is happy.¡± Brian rejects my words as I speak them.


    ¡°This can not be what you are seriously thinking. If it was that easy, violence would not exist.¡± I feel like I should end this conversation as quickly as possible. I have to learn from my mistakes, after all ¨C once Brian talked himself into rage, he will not stop rambling until the other party forces a stop to the conversation. ¡°Let us not discuss this here and now.¡±


    Brian, still trembling, nods unexpectedly. ¡°You are right. You need to help me with something important. We need to bury the body.¡±


    My jaw drops. ¡°You want to bury the body? How are you going to do that, please?¡± He can not mean that. After all, the ¡°Body¡± is nothing more than a head, and over fifty kilograms of rotting, sticky, maggot-ridden shreds of various fleshy substances.


    ¡°I don''t care what you think, Rei. I am going to bury it. Everything deserves a proper burial.¡±


    ¡°We do not even have tools. Do not be ridiculous. It is not going to work without tools, not even if you try.¡± I look into Ione''s direction, searching for help with this matter. When she does not come over, I go to her instead.


    ¡°He wants to bury this... thing. Can you help me talking him out of it?¡± I am fuming internally, but I do not want to lose my composure yet again. After all, I did so quite a lot of time lately, I do not want it to grow into a habit.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Ione sighs. ¡°I feared it would come to that.¡± She shakes out her hands, as if readying for something, and approaches Brian, who is busy swatting off flies left and right. A heated discussion between them ensues. I can not make out any details, but I also do not want to get any closer. The discussion grows more intense as it develops, and Brian grows more heated by the second, even though Ione is obviously making efforts to calm him down. Finally, signals her to step back. Ione slumps down, covering her face with one hand. She does step back a good meter, however. To my surprise, Brian does so as well, creating distance between him and the site.


    He starts grasping into the air, more and more. Then, he starts enclosing something in both his palms. He can not mean to...


    I start running into his direction. He finally grips whatever he was holding into one hand, and raises his hand, as if in anticipation of a throw. Only a handful of meters between us, I scream ¡°WAIT!¡± However, he does not. Brian strikes his hand forwards, opening his fist. Immediately, hefty surges of wind run through the forest. Wind howls through the trees for a split second, branches shake, fallen leaves get sucked into the air. I stumble, the sudden blow works added to me running, which is not a stable position to begin with, and I hit the ground face-first.


    Leaves have gotten into my mouth, quite the unpleasant taste. I get up, clearing my mouth in a number of quick spits. It seems that Brian was able to stay standing on his feet, and Ione as well. The swarm of flies has noticeably dissipated. I continue my short walk, and finally approach Brian from behind. I find him staring at his hand, although I can not get a good look on his expression before he notices me, and turns around. ¡°That was... strong. Sorry, I should have warned you, Rei. You too, Ione.


    ¡°It was reckless.¡± I state the obvious. However, that was not what not what bothered me the most. ¡°Also, It was wind. Wind magic.¡± Brian used a technique I failed in developing for a long time. This is the first time I saw him using it, he never even spoke of wind magic before.


    ¡°Yes! You saw it?¡± Brian seems relieved about me switching topic from his recklessness so quick. A sarcastic ¡°Hard to overlook it...¡± comes from the place where Ione stands.


    ¡°How?¡± How did he do it? What energy did he manipulate? The body does not matter now, at least not anymore.


    ¡°I just wanted a way to scare away those flies... It was hard to think about a proper grave while nearly swallowing one all the time.¡± Right. That was still a topic. I look down at the ground. It is covered with plenty of leaves now, but the mess in front of us is still there. ¡°I went overboard, I know. It is hard to get the proper power right.¡±


    He is not answering my question. ¡°You are right with what you said. Nonetheless, how did you do it? Explain me.¡±


    ¡°Rei, you look a bit scary. Let us bury the corpse first, please? I can tell you what I figured later.¡± Noticing the serious look on Brian''s face, I stop the words I had already prepared. Thinking back, he had a comparably serious look on a face all the time he was talking about burying the boar remains. ¡°Alright. I will help you. Still, my initial question remains ¨C how are you, are we going to do it? We do not have tools ¨C that fact has not changed.¡±


    I feel like I need to give Brian a service of friendship, and help him with this. It is important to him. I will never understand his fixation on animals, but it is alright. Brian helped me quite a few times now. Not only he, but Ione as well. The concussion, the time at the mayor''s house... Also our fights, discussions, conversations, whatever of that it has been. Brian''s persistence in striving for magic success, up to the point where he made it.


    ¡°About that, I thought I would use this.¡± He holds both his hand into the air, clenching them to fists.


    ¡°You want to use magic.¡± It worked to get rid of the flies. Splendidly so, although my mouth had to suffer a few casualties in form of ingested foliage. But I also see the danger of whipping out new techniques left and right. In case of my self-manipulation, it earned me a heavy hit on the head. In case of a mistake with Brian''s tremendous power... Maybe it goes smoothly this time. And perhaps the next. Perchance even the time after that. But what if It goes wrong? I know of no magic to mend wounds. Maybe, just maybe, If I asked the village healer, she would help me develop something. But that would require me telling her about my magic, which is out of the question.


    ¡°Yes.¡± However, Thinking about it, it may be our only possibility. We do not have shovels to dig a suitable hole, and even if, It would take hours. We need to think it through, calculate the risks. But magic is the only way. Not my magic, it is way to weak for that. Brian''s magic, on the other side...


    Ione slips into the conversation. ¡°You want to use even more magic? Be sure to not hurt yourself. Reiland, keep an eye on Brian so that he does nothing stupid. This stench, it is sickening. I will leave now. Watch from a distance, or return home. I still have to decide on that.¡± She does not look all too well indeed. ¡°Sister, you are so pale... Go rest, I will be okay.¡± Brian seems a bit worried about her condition. Ione nods to his words, and leaves ¨C in direction of the village, I reckon.


    Once Ione is gone and out of sight, I turn around to Brian, who is facing me in anticipation of my words. ¡°First of all, what do you see as a burial? A hole? Or is it sufficient to cover everything with dirt?¡± To get on equal terms, I need to talk with Brian about that.


    ¡°I want to give it a proper burial... a dug out hole, and then we will cover it with dirt. If we can find one, a small headstone.¡± Brian says so without even giving me a hint of unseriousness.


    I release a gust of wind through my nostrils. ¡°That is a better burial than some humans get... Alright. Can you lift dirt with your magic?¡± Maybe, if he could dig out a hole, we could scrape in the remains with some sort of stick, and then cover it with dirt again. There should be a small rock around here as well, most likely.


    ¡°I can do it. I am certain of it.¡± If there is one thing Brian definitely does not lack, it is self esteem. I never touched upon dirt manipulation, but it should be trivial, not harder than manipulating any kind of material. To test it, I concentrate on the ground in front of me. Clumps of earth rise up, one after another, and fall down again. As I thought.


    ¡°Well, then.¡± I let out a small sigh, but I am also curious on how this will turn out. I point at a spot at the edge of the meat fields. ¡°There. Lift a chunk of dirt out of that, let it down next to it. We will push everything in the created hole. After we are done, we simply fill it up with the upturned dirt.¡±


    ¡°Yes! I will do it like that!¡± Brian takes stand at the spot, and starts grasping for whatever he sees in the air. ¡°Do not overdo it this time... you can try again if the power was too low.¡± Brian nods, and starts forming. After a few seconds, he slams his hand into the ground.


    Silently, as if pulled by invisible strings, an estimated cubic meter of dirt takes a leap, diagonally to gain distance from it''s original position. It impacts a small distance away with an audible thud. Brian turns around.


    ¡°That was good.¡± No, good is not the right word ¨C it was perfect. Brian smiles. Even I smile a bit ¨C although I merely try to reproduce Brians facial expression. Not too well, apparently, as Brian drops his smile quickly. ¡°Thanks.¡±, he says. ¡°Thanks, Rei.¡±


    The flies have returned to the place. While not brimming with them like before, there still are more then plenty. They also remind me that the most revolting part is not done yet.


    We then do what we must, without talking much about it. Brian searches for sticks, while I stay at the site. I try to recreate Brian''s wind magic, but fail. I will have to ask him for it later, after all.


    Brian returns a with a pair of long, sturdy sticks. We try to poke them in a way that gets meat shreds into our hole, but it is a tedious and exhausting process. ¡°Take a step back.¡± I ask Brian, while doing so as well. He does so, and I control the stick of mine. It feels a bit different than controlling stones, given the the different length and size, but I adjust fairly quickly. Having it hover horizontally, I push every last scrap of meat onto a large pile. A large pile squirming with maggots, that fact has not changed yet.


    An idea strikes my mind. ¡°Should I burn it beforehand? Kill the maggots feasting on it? The boar would like that, would he not?¡± I try to do Brian a favor. However, he shakes his head. ¡°To what avail? The boar is already dead. The maggots did not kill it. Why punish them, then? It is not their fault for eating it.¡±


    I shrug my shoulders. ¡°It was just an idea.¡± I fully push the shreds into the put. I make the head follow shortly after. Brian is whispering a few words, eyes closed and hands clasped together.


    Shortly after, the grave was sealed. There are still some tiny scraps laying around here and there, but other than that, the site is barely recognizable. Brian pulls something from his pocket he must have found while searching for sticks ¨C a small stone, the shape of an egg where someone cut off the lower have. He places it on top of the dirt that I kicked solid a few moments ago.


    We return to the village. The way is not a long or hard one ¨C alarmingly not long and hard. Whatever did kill this boar, it would most likely have no issues treating a villager in a similar fashion. Those are the kind of thoughts that run through my head.


    Just before we enter the village, someone taps onto my shoulder. I startle, but all to quickly I realize that it was Brian. Who else, really. He looks into my eyes, and utters a single word - ¡°Thanks.¡±


    We enter the village.

 9 Years, Forest Clearing. The Wind Rises.

    9 Years, Forest Clearing. The Wind Rises.


    Brian, Ione and I are sitting on the large boulder in the middle of the forest clearing. It is noon ¨C of the same day we found the beheaded boar. Earlier, Brian used wind magic. He agreed to explain me how he did it, back then. However, we are not at our trusted spot near the old tree trunk in the outer back village outskirts. There are two reasons for that: First, things as wind manipulation might raise suspicion of a possible observer. Second, and that reason did even beat the first in urgency, we needed a change of pace. I suggested this spot, since I know it well from the times I sat here, reading in "What is magic? The basics." and making my first attempts in heat manipulation. I originally left it because of the mercury hazard, but the poison should be gone without a trace by now.


    It is cold. While it had been the whole day, fresh winds started to blow in the past few hours, diminishing the temperature to downright chilly levels. Still, the winds that envelope us are fitting to what we are trying to do. I am constantly running a self-heating spell on low power, warm enough to keep myself from freezing, but not hot enough to cause discomfort ¨C an act that uses about a tenth of my magic coefficient. Ione and Brian had to resort to thicker clothes, they re-suited themselves earlier when they went home for a short break. Brian thought about informing his father of the fallen animal and its condition, but I talked him out off it. It would be best if nobody knew about the fact that we buried a considerably large cadaver, since questions would arise then on how we managed to achieve that feat.


    "Now, look. I''m waving my hands. Can you feel it? The air blowing into your face?" Brian sits in front of me and Ione, rapidly shaking his hands in front of our faces. Ione nods, as I can see in my peripheral vision. Indeed, I feel it as well. However, that is nothing to be surprised about, it is how these things work.


    "Truly, I feel it. But what is your point? How is that going to lead us any further?" I got a few hypothesises, but I want to hear it from Brian himself. Knowing him, he probably just "enhances" his hand swings with magic. I still get puzzled about what he can and what he cannot do with his power, or how exactly it works. It only seems the first category is ever so larger than the second. Personally, I like me my magic muscle. It is simple, and effective. It does not involve any childish gesturing.


    "Glad that you asked, Rei! It is simple: By waving your hand, you make the air move. Now, just use magic to make a lot of air move!" Brian explains it like it is the most obvious thing in the world. Certainly, I thought that far already, and even further beyond. There was always one point where I hit a solid roadblock: How to imagine Air, and concentrate on it? Stone, yes. Water, I can see it. Air? What is it even? But, I can not blame Brian for thinking like that. Even if I would like to for him stating things I figured out months ago. Fact is, he succeeded where I failed, he accomplished what I could not.


    ¡°But how do you focus on the air? I was at that point as well, months ago. How can you direct your magic energy on the air? I do not get it.¡± Maybe, just maybe, I can get an intelligible explanation out of him.


    ¡°Hmm, let me think...¡± Brian scratches his forehead, and finally give his conclusive answer. ¡°Think of water! When you move your hand in water, it creates ripples. I think it is the same with air! Just think you are underwater, but that it does not slow you down, and you don''t drown. That is what I think of, for myself.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°That is not how it...¡± I disrupt my words mid-sentence. I spoke them before even considering his explanation. However, the more I think about it, the more sense it does make. If I think of air as a liquid, I can think of wind as a current. Who knows, that may even be close to it''s true nature. I never tried to create water currents, but that is because there never was a good chance, so I never thought about it all too much. Still, it should not be all too hard.


    I go through a thought experiment, starting with me accelerating a portion of air around me, focusing on this portion alone rather than the whole air. It is similar to manipulating a droplet of water opposed to the whole cup, a very basic and easy technique I mastered long time ago. If I were to accelerate this portion, it would surely push all surrounding air to the side. If you scoop through shallow water with a finger, there is a place where there is no water whatsoever. It quickly gets filled by the surrounding water, but it is there nonetheless. The same phenomenon would most likely happen with this scenario of air manipulation as well.


    However, this would be a short gust, and not a continuous stream, therefore not quite what I want. It is most likely what Brian did earlier this day to blow away the fly swarm feasting on the boar flesh. Perhaps I should try to master this gust first, and focus on a stream afterwards. Normally, going this thought train all by myself, I would have done so. However, I feel like I need to correct something, a kind of broken power level. Up until now, It was always me who taught Brian, and not the other way around. I would prefer for it to stay that way on the long term as well.


    To get a stream, I would need to switch focus from one air portion to another each time the current one hits the maximum range of twenty-five meters. Still, that would not be a true stream, either... more like chaining a lot of short bursts all together. It also would use up inexcusable amounts of concentration and focus.


    I notice Ione''s bright red hair swaying in the wind, back and forth. Indeed, it looks like sea grass in the river, swaying in the water. Only with twisted colours, red instead of green... Brian''s hair is swaying as well, but a lot less since it is considerably shorter. ¡°Reiland?¡± My gaze jerks abruptly back to Ione, who said my name. ¡°Maybe consider telling us what you think?¡± Oh, right. It has been over a minute since I ended my sentence without finishing it, and retreating into my own mind. I wave her off, and turn around. I can not afford to be distracted now.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I suddenly have to think of my bed. Right next to it, there is a crack in the shed''s wall. Sometimes, wind flows through, and blows into my face while I try to sleep. It is only sensible a short distance as it quickly loses power. Is that not the answer? Instead of accelerating a certain part of the air no matter it''s place, I have to accelerate a certain place''s air, no matter what specific air is inside. It does not matter what lies in before and beyond that place. Air will continue to flow, just like water in a river.


    I stand up, and step into the centre of the boulder''s top. I stretch out my arms to balance myself. Then, I concentrate.


    On what? Air. That I all I need to know. I do not have to see something to manipulate it. I proved that much by flinging around stones eyes closed. A rectangular portion of space, right in front of me ¨C kind of like a opened book. I know something is in that space, and I accelerate it.


    Magic euphoria clouds and sharpens my mind at the same time. At first, I feel a new, all so slight wind tucking at my robe, competing with the way stronger, predominant wind that blows all the time. To further steel my concentration, I undo my body warming, exposing me to the cold, but enabling me of the usage of my full coefficient.


    I slowly, but surely, increase the power put into acceleration. The tucking grows stronger, and turns into a notable grabbing. I feel my hair fluttering in the wind. I open my eyes, and part of me is surprised the rectangular space I had imagined so clearly is not visible to the bare eye. In return, its effect are not to be overseen. I feel my robe getting pressed onto my body, doing little to nothing to protect me from the wind''s harsh cold, but at the same time making it indescribably more enjoyable.


    Finally, I have reached my full coefficient. I initially stretched out my arms to gain stabilization, now I keep them stretched out to feel the wind even more. The wind tries its best to blow me over, but I refuse him with a secure two-foot stand. It is nowhere as strong as the gust Brian evoked earlier. However, it is still the real deal ¨C wind manipulation, a goal I strived for for a long time, and that I always avoided because the concept of air, and having to think about it, scared me. Who would have thought that it is as easy as imagining it as water?


    I try keeping the air current up as long as possible. Yet, all good has to end once it''s due. My body is trembling, on touch my skin feels cold as ice. Gradually, I decrease my used coefficient, and finally cease my magic. I sit down, and reapply my warmth shielding. Like sitting down next to a gentle fire in the homely oven while a snow storm is raging outside, my body temperature stabilizes, and I can only describe my mental state as deeply serene.


    The only wind left is the same that had been blowing before, but in face of the wind I called just now, it seems like nothing but a tepid breeze.


    Unexpectedly, a voice emerges from behind. ¡°Wow.¡± I twitch around, only to see Brian looking at me in what I learned to classify as awe. Ione has a similar look on her face, although to a way lesser extent. Right. ¡°Oh. I had forgotten about you, for a moment.¡± Following a sudden urge, I continue with another sentence. ¡°Your advice was not even half bad. Thanks for that, Brian.


    ¡°You certainly looked that part...¡± Ione states, probably in reply to my first sentence. Brian, on the other hand, seems delighted. ¡°Happy to help! Now you got to explain me how that cool long wind works!¡±


    I laugh. It was not my intention. I did not plan it, and I did not see it coming. Had I known, I would have tried to keep it inside. It is not a laugh at Brian, which I would not do, but a laugh with Brian, which I normally would do even less. It was not a bad feeling, though. And, it was a first of its kind, ever since Ione, Brian and I met.


    ¡°Sure thing! We got time, and plenty of it!¡± I say, unusually delighted. Even a bit of anticipation was in play here.


    ¡°I happen to be interested in that as well...¡±, from Ione''s side.


    ¡°Let us start, then. You see, imagine a rectangle....¡±


    Hours late, I stand right in front of my domicile. Today was a brilliant success ¨C learning the nature of air, applying that in a very practical use... I thought it would be a matter of minutes to teach the siblings my findings. I did not even frown on the prospect of having no technique Brian is unable to use. However, I was wrong. I tried, and tried. Rectangles, cracks in the wall, water currents, streams, droplets in cups, air portions in the whole, they seem to have understood it- but are unable to put it into practice. This left a small stain on the bright day. Is it that I am a bad teacher? After all, they needed a year to learn the basics of magic under me, whereas Brian was able to explain wind manipulation, rather advanced techniques, to me in a mere few minutes. Ione was able to use wind bursts, at least. At the end, we cut the total time a bit short today.


    I decide to not let that bring me down, and open the door. Mother is sitting on a wooden stool in front of the oven, a pot of stew right on top. She is noticeably not putting stress onto her ill left leg. Father is sitting at the table, counting small handful of shining iron coins ¨C most likely nothing more than a few prim, and the occasional secun. ¡°Rei, right in time! Dinner is ready!¡± My mothers clear voice echoes through the room.


    I nod, and step inside. It was cold outside, but inside, it is at least fine without heating my body any further. I fold my robe, and lay it on top of my sleeping spot. Then, I sit down at the table, on a third roughly-carved stool. Almost immediately after, Father helps Mother take a seat at the table, and continues to fill the stew into three bowls, handing one of them to each of me and Mother, and keeping the third for himself.


    What concerns stews, it is one of the better ones, even spiced up with some potatoes. The only way to get it here is to buy them, so Father must have taken some money to buy the ingredients of that.


    ¡°How was your day, Son? Had you and your friends fun?¡±


    ¡°Guess so.¡± I avoid talking too much. I do not want to concern them with the gruesome find we had today ¨C Mother is burdened enough with her leg, and Father with the increased workload he has to do since Mother is unable to do any real work that requires walking.


    I eat in silence, while my parents talk about life in a light manner, as if nothing of what is happening would concern them. How can they be so happy even if it looks so grim for them?


    A hint of remorse floods my mind ¨C I could easily improve our situation, would I use my time for something that helped them. Or my magic. Yet, they never asked for my help, never even gave a hint of that. Always appreciated when I brought a animal, or helped otherwise. But not once asked for my support.


    Yet, perhaps I love them for exactly that.


    I decide it is time to go to bed. I nod to Mother, then to Father, and then lay down to sleep.


    Dream 4


    Everything is bright and warm. The ground feels soft, comforting my feet as I stride upon it. I am neither hungry nor thirsty, nor do I have any complain at all. I feel fine. Things could stay that way, and I would not mind.


    Silhouettes form out of the bright light, and I recognize Brian, Ione, Father, Mother, strangely even Arstibal ¨C all them with beaming smiles on their faces. I want to be happy like them. What is keeping me?


    The dark. At the horizon, mountains are towering way beyond anything I have ever seen. Over them, dark clouds have formed themselves. An urge comes to my mind, and does not leave ¨C what is in those mountains? What is to be discovered there? It will not be as pleasant as that situation here is, that is sure. But the most important question that I ask myself is: Do I care?


    I take a step towards the mountain range.

 9 Years, Forest Clearing. Battle Techniques

    9 Years, Forest Clearing. Battle Techniques


    "Okay, I will begin." Carefully, I put a dozen of small pebbles onto my open palm. I focus on a gnarly hole in a distant tree''s bark. One after another, in quick succession, they start shooting at the tree, impacting right in the hole with an audible "THUNK" each. Accelerating mid-air, as if pulled by invisible strings, they miss not a single time. It took less than five seconds to fire all stones, a considerable feat of concentration. Each stone is only propelled by roughly half the allocated coefficient, as I concentrate on two stones at any time, switching focus from one to another as soon as it hits it''s target.


    The ground is covered by snow. It is deep winter, I would turn a year older very soon. Naturally, I make use of heating magic all the time. The snow has a nice, white colour, and reflects the sun right into my eyes. It complicated aiming a bit, but when getting used to it after a short while, it was no issue.


    Brian sits next to me, and is watching me from behind. He has also something prepared, but he did not want to disclose any details on it up until he reveals it. Seven days ago I, Ione and Brian found a slaughtered boar. Afterwards, we found three animals in the exact same condition: a hare four days ago, and three days ago two foxes. Brian insisted on burying them again, but luckily there was not as much meat to bury like the first time, and we knew what to do. Additionally, these animals had not been dead for days, and therefore were not as maggot-ridden as the boar.


    In company of the shredded meat, the surrounding forest was damaged, bushes were flattened, branches snapped. We also found more tracks, suggesting that whatever killed those animals was frequenting these parts of the forest quite often. However, we never found tracks close to our village. Even less did we see signs of the perpetrator himself, indicating a nocturnal predator.


    Brian was furious anytime we stumbled upon another corpse. This also leads to the current situation: after finding the butchered pair of foxes, Brian spoke of driving the unknown predator away, once and for all. He requested us to think of magic battle tactics, and said he would to the same. The day of presentation would be today, and I had thought of two things, one of which I just now showed.


    Ione was not very happy over Brian''s proposal, however. She said it was too dangerous, and that we should involve the mayor. That it was time to open up to him about our magic, to be fully able to explain to him the predicament this hunter puts us in. While I see her point about it being dangerous, I absolutely opposed involving the mayor. It is unpredictable what would happen if he learned of this, considering the way he behaved on our last serious talk.


    ¡°Awesome!¡± Brian seems to be impressed. When this topic first came up, I asked him why he wants to take action against this animal. Why does he want to fight this beast, if he despises violence that much? I had an extended talk with him about that topic. According to his words, attacking someone is a thing no one should ever do, except for when you protect animals or people from things that already did so in bad faith. As a vigilante protecting the weak, it was okay to take action against oppressors. Or something like that.


    To be honest, I do not quite understand his reasoning. Either violence is allowed, or not, is it not that way? What difference does it make between this predator killing a boar, or whatever animal else, and us attacking it in return?


    Still, I am in a consensus with Brian that we must do something against this threat. Not only does it discomfort Brian, it also means danger for the people of our Village, and us, since we come to this forest rather regularly. Since the other villagers are yet unaware of this threat, it is best to dispose of it before they notice ¨C it would be advantageous to keep them from being unnecessarily worried.


    It may be huge and powerful, that much is obvious to anyone who saw its tracks, its prey, and the destruction surrounding it. But in the end, it is just an animal, and nothing more. We should have no problem competing with it using long-range magic attacks.


    ¡°Is it now? It may have been a looker, but each of these pebbles did not have strong firepower or penetration on their own. Maybe to harass or distract a target they are usable, but that is about it.¡± If I wanted those two things, I can still resort to using larger pebbles, or even fist-sized rocks. Still, should I go for the eyes with this, it could prove debilitating to the creatures eyesight, making the further process easier.


    ¡°It is impressive, Rei! I am sticking with that, no matter what you say.¡± Brian seemed a bit down when we started finding the victims of our target, but he seems to have come over it. He is back to his energetic old self, through and through. While I marvel his ability to stay light-hearted in this situation, I would also wish a little more seriousness. With wit and planning, we should be able to step out of this unscathed. A slip-up however, and we could end up in a similar state to boar, fox and hare.


    ¡°Thanks. I guess.¡± I wonder what Ione would have said to it. She went back to the village an hour ago, said she had to get something crucial for her technique. She prompted us to start without her, and despite our objections she insisted on that. I gave in relatively quickly, knowing that there was no use in arguing. We could still show her our techniques later, it is not like there is any real limit to how often we can use them.


    ¡°I got another one.¡± After ensuring myself of Brian''s attention, I open my pouch and grab out a quickly-woven hay doll. My mother showed me how to weave them after I asked for it. I think she was happy that she could to something that did not require moving around and therefore gladly taught me the basics. I made two, just in case I mess it up one time. On the other side of my waist, my trusty knife hangs in a small, scuffed sheath. I draw it, inspect its cutting edge, and hand a doll to Brian. ¡°Could you throw this into the air?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡± Brian takes the doll, and throws it in a nice, wide arc. He got seriously skilled in throwing things during our practice, be it with or without magic assistance. I release the knife, and instead of wielding it with my hands, I put it in the firm grasp of movement manipulation magic. It approaches the still-airborne doll at high speed, and slows down just enough to precisely cut it in two, separating the upper from the lower half. Without a pause, it turns around, and continues to further mutilate the already dead straw doll, halving it again, and yet again. All that comes pouring down to the ground are single straws, and some knots here and there.


    Manipulating a blade requires a lot less force, but iron precision compared to a stone. You need to angle it correctly, and precisely adjust speed, as well as inverting its movements in a moment''s span.


    Luckily, I practiced that long enough with stones, so doing the same trick with a knife is easily adapted. The next part would not have been necessary, but in some way, style points also are important. I hold the sheath open with my hand, and the knife slowly returns back to me, until it lies embedded in it just like before. Brian, as if struck by something, utters a single sentence. ¡°Before we start to seriously harm it, let us try to just scare it away, okay?¡±


    ¡°Why? Are you scared?¡± Maybe I overdid it a bit, and my demonstration was slightly too impressive.


    ¡°No... I just would feel bad hurting it outright. You killed animals as well, didn''t you? I can see you had your reasons, and you did mean no bad with it, even if it is still wrong. Maybe this animal is the same? Even if not, we should give it the chance to think about it''s actions, repent...¡±


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    I snort through my nose. ¡°I think you are giving an animal''s thinking capability too much credit here.¡±


    ¡°I know that it will most likely end with us killing it, as it is our only choice. But that does not mean I have to like it, and if there was another option, I would hate myself for not taking it when being able to.¡±


    ¡°Alright. If we find a way to solve this situation without violence, we can take it. Gladly. But realistically, that is unlikely to happen.¡± I am already a bit tired of this discussion. Of course I thought of a less dangerous way, without confronting the beast ourselves, but still containing the information on it so noone else realizes it ever existed. Yet, this seems like an impossible task, given the circumstances.


    It is time I steer the conversation in a different direction. ¡°You thought of a fighting technique as well, did you not?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. I did.¡± Brian gets up, and slides down the frozen-over boulder. ¡°Come down! I can''t show it properly up there. I myself jump down the rock, and land in the leaves on arms and legs. It is a bit softer compared to landing on only my legs. I adapted this particular way of falling and landing after I had seen a village cat jumping down a tree. I can not say that I am as gracious as this cat, but it still helps a bit.


    Brian pulls a pair of heavy gloves out of his coat. I come a bit closer, to have a proper look on it. ¡°Can I have a look on that?¡± Brian nods, and hands me the glove. Upon closer inspection, it is too large for me, and for Brian as well. It is also heavily padded, and severely encumbers the hand. I hand it back. ¡°You are not planning to punch anything with that, are you?¡± I ask, half joking.


    ¡°Why not? Just look at it first before you judge.¡± Brian takes the right glove of the pair, and puts it on his right hand. ¡°Just watch!¡±


    Fine. I take a step back, and watch. Brian will have thought this through.


    Silence dominates the surroundings. Not even a bird is chirping a song, and the snow creates an almost surreal atmosphere. Brian is standing right in front of a tree ¨C a pine tree. Both leaf- and needle trees are growing in this forest, and therefore it never fully looses its green. The tree in front of Brian looks sickly though, its needles giving away hints of brown, with a green that is all but the usual radiant dark. Almost like an old lady waiting to die, it has several bents in its log.


    Slowly, but confidently, Brian reaches out with his left hand, grasping for something in the air, but invisible to my eyes. I hold my breath, to have the least impact on this scene possible. Right as Brian stretches out his arms, it starts snowing. Not heavily, barely more than a few snowflakes filling the air.


    Following his grasping motion, Brian starts forming whatever he encloses with both hands now. While doing it, he seems oddly calm, in opposition to his his normally energetic attitude. Finally, he puts everything he has in his gloved right hand, and goes into stance as if for a mighty punch.


    ¡°There is no way he is going to do that.¡± This thought revolves all around my head, but the certainty of that fact I had at the start quickly dwindles.


    Brian opens his fist, and immediately closes it again. As soon as his fingertips touch his palm, his fist flies forward. The surrounding air seems to vibrate, and the pine seems to shiver, awaiting its demise. The speed at which the fist snaps forward is incredible, had I blinked, I had missed it entirely.


    The arm impacts on the tree''s bark. This does not stop the movement, however. As if time slowed down just for this moment, my eyes widen in horror as, first of all, Brian''s fist shatters.


    A horrible crack sounds through the clearing, as immediately afterwards, the bone in his right forearm snaps right apart.


    His body is flung forward, and hits the trunk with the sound of a filled sack of corn hitting the ground.


    I feel my facial expression derail, without being able to do the slightest thing about it.


    A primal scream of agony tears through the silence like a hot knife through wool, leaving behind a disgusting stench. I want to move... but my body is paralysed.


    My thoughts, as accelerated as they were just now, come to a halt with screeching brakes.


    As if in a dream, I slowly put a foot in front of another, and start moving. ¡°Brian...¡± I utter this name, but no response comes from the curled package right next to the tree, only the continuing wail shattering the very fabric of reason.


    A distance voice adds to the chorus of screams, with a deeply concerned note. I know this voice, it is the voice of a man ¨C the mayor.


    I hunch over Brian, who is writhing the ground. ¡°Calm down. Let me see that.¡± I stutter these words, rather subconsciously, not spending a single thought on it. Although I get no answer, from this distance my blurry yet clear gaze can make out details.


    Blood is sogging from the glove, dying it in a brilliant dark red. It also covers the snow, giving a clear contrast. Brian''s face is distorted from pain, his eyes closed tightly, but emitting streams of tears.


    His nose is running, and as I look at him, he vomits right over himself, turning the howling into a heinous gurgle for a short second.


    I realize that my whole body is shaking. Weird, how can I feel cold when almost cooking my skin with magic? I increase the power yet again.


    I feel like I have to do something. Anything. Anything that helps.


    Yet, my mind is blank, and I remain standing still.


    Without any warning, I get flung back and land in the snow. A man with flaming red hair is stooping over Brian, his back obscures his actions to me. A voice is penetrating my eardrums, screaming at me. I fail to understand the meaning, but I vaguely recognise Ione''s voice.


    I simply continue to stare at Brian, who I can not even see right anymore. I stand up, and approach the man, trying to get a better look on Brian. I get a look over the man''s shoulder, and see him caressing Brians head with one hand, while the other shakingly supports his back. Brian himself is still screaming like an impaled pig.


    I reach down my hand, trying to stroke Brian''s head as well. The man puts him down gently, but then smacks away my hand. I look into his face.


    Red hair, no beard, watery eyes, but a rageful expression. I try to say something, along the sorts of explaining what happened ¨C when a hit in the face sends me reeling, spinning, and falling face-first into the snow. This blows away my daze, and I finally get together a clear thought. The mayor, and Ione. What in hell is the mayor doing here?


    I get up, and finally understand what I have been said. ¡°How could you!?¡± Ione screams into my face, beaming with rage and spite. ¡°WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO BRIAN?!¡±


    The mayor is back to looking for Brian. ¡°What? I did not do a thing! Brian did that to himself with a stupid punch!¡± My thoughts, so clear just now, become clouded by a different emotion: Rage. Why does Ione accuse me? It is not my fault! ¡°It is not my fault that Brian is a hot-headed Imbecile! Why would anyone right in their mind punch a tree? That is insane!¡±


    I never once saw Ione raging before.


    Why are we even fighting? Should we not be helping Brian? This is priority now, is it not? I get these thoughts after saying the last sentence. As if my subconsciousness is trying to tell me something, and trying to get over the fact that I had been accused for something that absolutely was not my fault.


    ¡°You should have protected him! Why did you let that happen? You could have stopped him!¡± Ione screams at me, but do her words even have a meaning?


    Could I have stopped Brian? There is no way I could have! It all went that fast... ¡°HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN HE WAS GOING TO PUNCH THE FUCKING TREE?!¡± There was no way for me to stop him. No way. It is not my fault that he is injured. Not my fault that his arm is bleeding, that he is screaming, writhing, and in agony. ¡°not my fault, for...¡± My voice gets quieter and quieter, until it finally gets silenced by tears.


    Tears, huh. A hot stream of them is running from each eye.


    I hear Ione address me again, but nothing intelligible reaches me. I feel pathetic. I was not able to keep my friend from harm... what kind of person am I, even?


    Voices, I hear voices. They speak to me, but I can not understand. I just sit in the snow, and yet I feel awfully hot. Why? It is winter.


    Tears are running from my eyes, for so long now that I fear of running dry on them. Voices.


    ¡°Your fault, it was your fault and you know it...¡±


    I heard a voice unlike the ones I heard before. Instead coming from the outside through my ears, it originates from the inside. It is a terrible, cold voice.


    ¡°Savage... Who would let his friend get injured like this?¡±


    This voice should shut up. Why can''t it be blurry, as all the voices coming from outside?


    ¡°He is going to hate you. She is going to hate you. Everyone will hate you for what you did.¡±


    I can not bear it. ¡°Quiet...¡±


    ¡°Trying to shut up the truth? That never works, trust me. Just look it into the face ¨C you are a horrible person...¡±


    I pull together all my power, and scream as loud as I can. ¡°QUIET! QUIET; QUIET, QUIET, QUIET!!¡±


    Something dark touches my shoulder. I swivel around as fast as I can, and look at the person that touched me with blurry eyes, in shock. ¡°get away...¡±


    I start crawling backwards, facing the person that touched my shoulder. It''s head is on fire, but the silhouette is blurry beyond recognition.


    Again, it extends it''s arm after me. Panic runs through my veins.


    ¡°GET AWAY!¡± I scream, and turn around. I must run.


    Run, and get away, from the voice, from the people here. Run.


    I run through the forest. Without looking back, I run as fast as I can.


    I hear steps behind me, menacingly crunching through the snow, and they are close.


    Magic... Magic will help me! I only need to... use it...


    Levity surges through my body, at the same time as adrenaline. I sprint forwards, only barely avoiding hitting obstacles.


    I run, as fast as never before, as it is for my life. I know this for a fact. If the person catches me, I will die. Die for what I did, for what I committed...


    I will not have that. I run, and run further, and further.


    At last, my vision dwindles. I have not heard steps in hours now, but it is never save.


    It turns dark, and the ground comes closer to my face in alarming speed.


    Impact.

 9 Years. Forest. The Way Home.

    9 Years. Forest. The way home.


    I wake up. I feel warm, even hot. I open my eyes to be greeted by a blue sky, although barely visible through the top of the high trees surrounding me. Birds are singing, and sun rays fall through the naked branches right into my eyes. Snow has fallen everywhere, covering the trees, the ground, the bushes, and turning everything into a brilliant white hurting my eyes.


    I look down upon myself. I am wearing what I always wear, my beige robe. It seems a bit more ripped than usual. It is also soaked in water. The spot where I slept is free of snow. Rather than snow, puddles of water fill it. I grab a handful of snow right next to me. It does feel a bit cold, but not like you would normally expect. It melts quickly, and its drips add to the puddles already on the ground.


    My body temperature seems unusually high, as if I have fever. Also, I feel unusually elevated. That has to be the reason why all snow in my vicinity melted away. And why I did not freeze to death over night. I lower the output of my self-warming to a bearable level. It had been activated even though I went to sleep? But why was it active on such a high level? A bit more, and I may had have damaged myself.


    I feel like I am forgetting something important, about something that happened. What is it? Why am I in the forest?


    ¡°Brian.¡± A cold voice penetrates my brain, bringing all the memories back.


    I wander a few steps in a daze, and sit down. Right. Yesterday, unspeakable things happened, and actions were taken that I regret now. I ran away from responsibility, when Brian needed me the most... But do I even have the right to get close to him now? It is my fault that he hurt himself... Had I talked with him properly before, I could have kept him from harm.


    ¡°Are you even his friend? Running away, just because a small problem emerges?¡± Again, a cold voice resonates through my head.


    Shut up, I think. Just shut up.


    ¡°No.¡± The voice takes a gloating sub-tone.


    Great. What is this, even? It appeared yesterday. I can remember only vaguely what happened after I got hit in the face. I inspect it in a puddle beneath me: a bruise covers my left cheek, in form of a purple spot, speckled with hints of red. I stroke it, and it hurts. I do not remember it hurting that much yesterday.


    Why is there a voice in my head? I have enough problems as it is, therefo- ¡°Because you will not take responsibility otherwise.¡± Great. Just great. What I needed now was exactly another voice to tell me how miserable I am.


    ¡°Yes, that is why I am here. Else, you would not have understood the whole extent of your patheticness.¡±


    Oh shut up. Shut up.


    ¡°Hehe. No.¡± I really can not stand it, the gloating that fills this voice. It deeply enervates me. I form a fist, and smack it against the side of my head. ¡°That will not solve the problem, you know.¡±


    I blankly stare into the sky for a few minutes. The sun has risen high, it is most likely almost noon. I have to get back, right. At afternoon, our training will begin. I will go there, and everything will be normal, right. Brian will sit there, his right arm lightly bandaged, but smiling. Ione will apologize for screaming at me, saying that she overreacted. The mayor will stand behind them, laughing about his foolishness, apologize for hitting me, and actually teaching us a thing or two about magic. I need to get back.


    ¡°Stop dreaming.¡±


    A tear rolls down my face. Of course that will not happen. I have seen the injury. It would be a wonder if Brian''s hand is anything but bone meal now. His arm is broken as well. He looked like he were in agony... I get the great urge to follow his example and uproot a tree with a single punch. It would not change anything, but at least he would not be alone in his suffering...


    ¡°Go ahead. There are plenty of trees here, free for you to hit. Repent!¡± Almost beaming with anticipation these words get spit into my thoughts. I shudder. I was right, it would not change anything. Brian is not going to feel any better when I suffer, I think. I need to go back. Apologise...


    But where? I am deep in the forest. I do not know how long I ran until I collapsed, but it must have been a few hours at least. This great stamina must have come with self-manipulation. I managed to use it even though my thoughts were stirred up, and do so while also maintaining a second spell. This is a considerable feat, no denying that. Dangerous as well, considering how it went the first time.


    Yet, I got no choice as to use it again to find the way back. I never was as deep into the forest as I now am. To add to that, I can not seem to remember which direction I came from. Carefully, I apply self-manipulation again. My body becomes lighter, my senses shift, but I withstand the sensation, and keep standing. I take a step forward, then another, and finally begin to walk. It surprises me how quickly I can adjust to it now.


    To get a general sense of direction, I climb the nearest tree. It requires next to no effort, my body only weighs a fraction of what it normally does now. I just am not allowed to lose concentration, or I could end really unfavourably. On top of the tree a spectacular view presents itself to me. Trees are reaching up to the horizon in every direction. The only outstanding landmark is a colossal mountain range in the distance. For a short second, I feel reminded of the mountains I have seen in my dreams several times now.


    Yet, my goal lies in the opposite direction. This mountain range is the only thing you can see from the village beyond the forest, therefore to return, I have to turn my back on the mountains, and start running. I climb down the tree cautiously, and begin moving.


    Running through the forest is incredible. I feel like I should be feeling down, over what happened. I even want to, it would only be the right thing to do. Yet, I can not. Magic euphoria is pumping through my veins, which is only reasonable considering I maintain two rather complex magic techniques. In addition to that, running through the forest at this speed, this levity, is fun. As much as I want to deny that, I can not.


    Just wait for me, I will be getting back soon. Before this next dusk, I will be back. Ready, to take responsibility. Thinking such things, time elapses rapidly. The forest looks the same, but is getting less dense. Every now and then I climb another tree, and check my direction. Now, the time I take to get back depends on how straight I ran yesterday. If my muscle memory failed me and I went in a bent path, I may emerge from the forest, but some distance away from the village. In that case, I would not know in which direction to head.


    How long did I run now? Two hours? Three? I feel like I am getting close. The forest seems fresher than back where I awoke, less dense and less old. I should get even more exited now, should I not?


    But, that is not the case. What if Ione resents me? She did always seem to care for Brian, and for him especially. Will she hate me for what happened to her Brother? I think she would have a good reason to do so.


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    My speed declines, and from running I switch over to walking. What will the mayor say? Will he deny me the usage of magic? Will he punish me for spreading knowledge? He seemed so mad and sad at the same time yesterday.


    What about Mother? Father? Will they look at me differently? Will they scold me for running away? Will they even recognise me as their son, having brought such misfortune to an innocent kid?


    I am coming to a halt, and stand motionless between the bald trees. Soon I feel water covering my feet as the snow starts melting from the emitted heat.


    What about... Brian? What about what he told me, that we are friends? Does he still see it that way? There is no chance he does. Does he resent me for not stopping him? For allowing all this to happen? For being a bad Friend, and not being there for him when he needed me? For not comforting him when he was in agony?


    Why is it so hard to be a good friend? How am I supposed to act right? Nobody ever taught me all of this! How am I supposed to know how to act with people? How to understand them? Is it not unfair, that seemingly everyone seems to be able to do it perfectly fine, but no one ever felt the necessity to let me in on that?


    What if... I return to the village, and everybody just tells me: ¡°Why did you not stay in the forest?¡±


    I sink onto my knees. It is really not fair, is it?


    ¡°No, of course not! If life were fair, how comes that you, who instigated Brian on all of this, got away unscathed, while he has a crippling injury for the rest of his life now?¡± The coldness in this voice, it strikes me unprepared yet again.


    I fall over, and bury my face into the snow. Why is it so hard to just go back into the village? If I am prompted to leave, I can still just do that. What am I afraid of, when expecting the worst? My expectations can only be met, or disproven by a more soft outcome. What am I afraid of?


    It would be logical to go, and see for myself. Yet, my body seems to lack the power to move itself albeit being light as a feather.


    ¡°Ha. I knew you could not do it. Weakling.¡±


    It hurts. This situation, it hurts. The words, they hurt. My emotions, they hurt. Yet, being addressed as a weakling fills me with rage, and the urge to disprove this cold voice. ¡°AAGAGHHAGHAHGH!!¡± I scream into the melting slush that seconds ago was the white, cold, beautiful snow I buried my face in.


    Slowly, I get up again. Hanging around here will not solve anything. I have come all the way here. Turning my back on the village now would be illogical. With firm yet shaky step, I continue to walk.


    I start recognizing the territory. Only a few more minutes now until I would reach it. Apparently, by chance I took the correct way. I start to think about what to say. ¡°Hey.¡±? No, too casual for the situation. ¡°I am sorry.¡±? No, too... I do not even know what it is too. Too meaningless? Too expectant? Too... Hollow?


    Branches are cracked all around the place, and my path crosses a trail where everything seems to have been completely obliterated, from bushes and branches to even young trees. It seems familiar. I have seen it before, definitely. An unpleasant stench discomforts my nose, although the smell is familiar as well. Another victim. And so close to the village as well. No thirty minutes into the forest.


    Maybe I should bury it. Maybe Brian will forgive me if I do what he values so much? I follow the trail. It is afternoon now, but the sun will set very soon. I should hurry.


    To think of it, everything started with this animal. The problems, I mean. Had he never come near to us, we would not have trained battle techniques yesterday. Ione would not have left, and kept Brian from being mindless. We would be at the forest clearing, training. If only...


    I start to resent this animal. What have we done to deserve it? Did we offend any god with our research, and he decided to send this here?


    I arrive at the site. From far, I see snow covering the scenery, it looks unusually peaceful.


    I come closer. Even though the smell is very present, apart from a few shreds of meat here and there the snow had the grace to cover it all up. Yet, to properly see what I am working with, I need to get rid of the snow. Melt it? Blow it away with wind? The second option.


    I position myself next to a tree to not be affected by the wind, and reduce to power of the spells I have been maintaining for all that time, to make it free for a third chant. Cold starts creeping into my skin and shooting into my feet immediately. This is the first time I seriously try to use three spells at a time. Why not undo the other two? Maybe I want to prove something to myself.


    I imagine the used picture, a broad vertical area of acceleration, and face the tree. Will I have enough power to do the job? The snow is rather fresh and very fine, so it should be taken away by wind without a problem. But will my power suffice? Maybe. In this specific topic I did only little research in energy consumption, so I can not really tell.


    I close my eyes, and yet again concentrate. The air howls up, and passes me in a fast, steady stream. I maintain that for about a minute, the cold is destroying me without heating myself, so I cease and reapply the power to the two other spells. I turn around.


    I look into the face of a severed human head. Its expression is distorted in shock, disbelief and fear. I lean myself against the tree I was facing just now, fearing I would fall otherwise. I feel weak, as if I had taken a hit into the stomach just now. Why is a human dead? Why was he out here in the night? It is not someone I recognize. Most likely one of the villagers, a man.


    The body is shredded. This was the unknown attacker. Without a doubt.


    Why was he out here in the night? Everyone knows you must stay away from the forest at night. Had I thought clearly yesterday, I would have thought twice whether or not to actually flee into the forest.


    That is what Ione warned us about. The beast attacked a human, and killed it.


    I feel cold even though I am warming myself as usual. I increase the output a bit, but it does not help. A stale taste is spreading over my tongue, my throat is dry. Thinking of it, I have drunk nothing in over a day now. Maybe I should go back now, and tell the people in the village. Maybe they are searching for this man already. I hate being the one bringing the bad news, but I has to be done. I compose myself, and continue walking to the village.


    Thump.


    My foot hit another object. A stone? No, the feeling is not right. It is not hard and heavy enough. I bend down, and swipe the snow away.


    I freeze for a second. Underneath the snow, there was a second head. I recognize the face, although barely: It is a villager I have seen a few times while wandering through the village, with long, grey hairs and a remarkable beard. Hastily, I pull my hand back, and jump back. I almost slip on something slithery, but barely manage to keep my balance. I lift my foot, it is red in blood. I shudder. The snow hid a cover of fine shreds, meat, bone and tissue. It surfaced as I walked over it.


    The streak of havoc continues down the way I wanted to take, I just now realized that. Along this way, there are several objects hidden by the snow. I thought of them as stones. Could they all be... something else entirely?


    My breath goes wild, I hyperventilate. Sweat runs down my cheeks. I try to calm down, and only succeed after a few minutes. What in hell happened here? Why are there so many people here? Surely, that are not people, right? Stones! Yes, they must be stones. Two people went out in the night, for some moronic reason, and got themselves killed in return. Why would so many people out here? That is...


    ¡°You wonder what they were doing here?¡± The arctic voice, cruel and rough. ¡°Is it not apparent? Come one, think with that head of yours! You know it, don''t you? You know it and do not want to have it true!¡±


    ¡°SHUT UP!¡± I want to hear no more from it. What would be the reason for so many people to be outside at night?


    I stumble over to the next bump. A head. The next one, another. Every head has this same horrified expression. Next, a woman. I recognise her as the merchant of the general store on the marketplace.


    Another man.


    Another man.


    The surroundings seem colourless.


    Another woman.


    It is silent, I hear nothing but the creaking snow under my feet.


    Another man...


    Tears well up in my face as I dig out the awfully familiar face. Why...


    I look in the cold, dead eyes of a man with short, brown hair, brown eyes, and a normally honest and kind face.


    Thoughts of a conversation of mine with Brian cross my mind. ¡°The way of nature? Would you say that as well if the being lying here was someone close to you? Or you?¡± I feel like someone hit my face. It hurts, even more than the hit the mayor gave me.


    I stare in the cold, dead eyes of my Father. I do not understand the world no more.


    ¡°You want to know why they were here? Is it not normal to send out a searching troop if a child gets lost in the forest?¡± The voice laughs as if it has the fun of its lifetime.


    Shut up. Shut up. Shut, shut, shut up.


    I check Father for a pulse, like I have learned from the village healer. There is none. Father is not breathing either.


    ¡°Look at you, clinging at straws. PATHETIC, isn''t it? What do you think happens if a predator hears a bunch of snacks walking through its territory, screaming for attention? It is just the way of nature, is it not? What is your Problem? There are hunters and prey. This is nothing new.¡±


    ¡°SHUT UP; YOU FIEND!¡± I scream from the bottom of my lungs, mixed up with wailing and as loud as I can to blast this monster away.


    ¡°Are you not going to check the other heads? Who knows who else joined the search out of concern for you? Maybe Ione? The mayor? Perhaps even your mother? I am sure she would be able to run away with her leg, so don''t be afraid!¡± Word for word is hitting me like stones flung by a skilled sorcerer.


    I just want to die here. Could something put an end to my misery? It is my fault, that...


    They came searching for me, and paid with their lives. I can not forgive myself for that.


    ¡°Good, good! Finally you understand the gravity of the situation! Suffer more sweetly for me!¡±


    Will this voice end too, if I end myself? Maybe it is worth it then.


    I blankly stare at the head in my hands. Following an impulse, I close it''s eyes with my right.


    I can not die here, not yet. There are things left to do. I stand up, and walking slowly, I gather all the heads in one place. It is impossible for me to dig out a grave for all the flesh. Sorry, Brian. If the character lives in the head, this has to suffice.


    I begin digging hole I in the frosted ground. I see no stick, so I use my hands. Maybe then they are good for something, at last. Shortly after, they are roughed up and bloody, but the work is not done.


    I focus solely on the task at hand. Shovelling away dirt, piling it up next to me, hitting rocks and pebbles in the progress, tearing my skin, striking the earth. I shove away every other thought. The feelings of guilt and the voice, I cover them with the dirt I excavate.


    It is dark. Clouds are covering the sky, and it snows. The sun has set long time ago. A pit is dug out before me. I used both magic and my own hands to equal parts to create it. It shall be the resting place of all these villagers- and most importantly, my father. One by one, I put them inside. There are nine overall.


    Again, tears start flowing all over my face. Weird, I thought I expended my final one long ago.


    In a last power struggle, I close the pit with the dirt amassed while digging it, sealing the memory of my father there.


    I can no longer bear it, and every thought turns hazy as I am bawling my eyes out on the grave. I wail, weep and cry.


    Why?


    Why Father?


    Finally, I lack the power to even cry. Laying on my back, I look at the sky.


    Isn''t the night sky beautiful...

 10 Years, Village. Aftermath.

    10 Years, Village. Aftermath


    I startle up from my light, restless sleep as a loud brush cuts through the night''s silence. Following the first, a few more cracks sound through the forest. Involuntary, I release a heavy groan. My body aches, and my hands burn in particular. My throat is dry, and I have a hard time concentrating well. When was the last time I had something to drink? Foremost, a pulsing headache is tormenting me.


    The sky is black, covered by clouds. Only the moon barely shines through a small gap in the cloud cover, and vaguely reveals my surroundings. I get up, leaning on a nearby tree for support. I look down ¨C my sleeping spot was a freshly dug and covered mound of dirt. The surrounding stench finally reaches my nose again, and reminds me of what happened.


    ¡°You remember all too well, do yo-¡±


    A voice that grew familiar in the course of the last day speaks up, but I do not want to hear it. There is a more pressing matter at hand, regardless of what insult it was going to hurl at me.


    Oddly enough, I feel unusually serene. Maybe not serene, rather... cold. If not for the pain, I wonder whether or nor I would feel my body. The picture of me laying the head of my father into the mass grave flashes before my inner eye, but it evokes no feelings. Is this normal?


    Only now, I notice that I am trembling all over the body. Am I cold? I do not feel particularly cold, even though I am standing in the snow bare foot. It must have snowed while I slept, the paths that I traced into the snow are gone.


    I take a step, and another. Slowly at first, but shortly after in a normal pace, I walk towards home. I did everything I could here, so what else would there be to do?


    ¡°End yourself?¡±


    Does Mother already know of this? Was everyone of this search party caught? Did anyone escape? I need to find her, look for her.


    The forest is dark, but being this close to the village, finding the way is a triviality. After a few minutes, I step out of it''s boundaries, right next to our shack. I approach it, and without slowing down the slightest, I push the wooden carved doorknob and enter the room. It is even darker inside, but there is no doubt nobody is in here right now. To be absolutely certain, I go to the spot where my mother normally sleeps anyway. It is empty.


    On the table, there is are three bowls of soup, emitting a foul odour. On closer exception, fine mould swims on top of it. It contains, to my surprise, small chunks of meat, and vegetables of the kind you would find on a market, and not in the forest. A shame its already spoiled, thinking of my protesting stomach. A jug full of water stands in the middle of the table. I pour some of it in a mug near the bowl that is closest to me, and some over my face.


    The water over my face does not very much to refresh me, but the water I drink runs down my throat like ¨C well, water if you are extremely thirsty. It is stale, and has a strange aftertaste to it, but in face of need, I can not be picky.


    ¡°You noticed? Three bowls? Funny.¡±


    I freeze. I look over to the spot where my father normally sleeps. It is empty. Three bowls. Mother must have made this the evening I ran. Did father buy those ingredients? I know for a fact we had neither meat, nor potatoes and turnips at home. Or, did mother buy them to make him and myself a nice meal for when we return, unscathed? But her leg... If that is the case, what pain must she have went through to go to the market? To make this stew, to ready it on a table, to wait patiently, only to have no one return that day?


    A hint of sorrow mixes itself with my cold thoughts, tainting them grey. I feel like crying, but not a single tear comes out. Odd, they flowed just fine yesterday...


    Mother is not here. Where is she? I doubt she went out in the forest. If that is not the case, the only other place she could have gone to is the village, the more central part of it. I pour another cup, empty it with a few swift swigs, and put the cup back on the table. I remain in the doorstep for just a second, before finally closing the door and heading to the marketplace.


    There is one place I have the greatest chance to find out about her whereabouts. Coincidentally, I also have other business to do there, namely a long due apology.


    The marketplace is silent. Not surprising, considering it is deep in the night. The cloud cover has loosened up, and a fairly full moon shines on the ground and the nearby houses. Right in front of me, an exceptionally large house with a balcony and shaded windows stands, almost menacingly compared to the rather meagre houses next to it. A metal door knocker decorates the door. Memories come back, from when I first entered this house on my own. Back then, I was on a quest to get a book back. Now, I got to explain how the mayors son got injured, and people died.


    Unlike last time, I do hesitate a bit. Yet, hesitation is the opposite of progress, and I therefore can not afford it. I knock, once, but powerfully. THUNK.


    Nothing happens. After half a minute, I grab the knocker again. THUNK.


    Again, nothing happens. I prepare to unleash a knocking staccato, but before I come to that, the door on the balcony opens, and a person steps onto the protruding platform, the mayor. He spots me, I notice that his expression immediately changes once he looks down. ¡°You!¡± Uttering that, he vanishes in the building again, and no time after I hear wild footsteps on the stairs, coming closer by the second.


    The door opens. In front of me stands a changed man, if not for the red hair, I would not have recognized him. The proud expression is substituted by extremely dark circles under his eyes. ¡°Where the HELL where you? Why, why the HELL did you run away?¡± He hisses loudly. Overwhelmed by the angry words, I get a bit flustered.


    ¡°I, eh, wanted to check on Brian... Make sure he is alright...¡± Until now, I had not seen anyone this angry. Yet, the mayor being the mayor, he manages to keep his anger to a emotional level this time without making it physical.


    ¡°They would have killed you for that at magic university.¡± He turns his back to me, and proceeds to go up the stairs again. Only when he notices I am not following, he turns around. ¡°What? We have to have a little talk. No need to wake up the whole neighbourhood for that.¡±


    Killed? Was that a threat? I do not think so, but...


    I step into the house, and close the door behind me. The mayor is already vanished. I head to the office, I have been here often enough to know the way. The doors to it are kept open by a door wedge. I enter, and a pitiful sight greets me. The mayor sits behind his desk, and behind his anger, there is also an incredible tiredness. His face looks like he has not slept in days. His shirt is crumpled, and he stares at me with his green, deep eyes. ¡°That is a wonderful situation you got me into, is it not?¡±


    ¡°I am sorry.¡± I do not know what else to say.


    Had I known how dangerous it is for Ione and Brian, I had not taught them magic. Had I known they would come to search for me, I would not have run away.


    ¡°You did know, and you know that.¡± The voice, totally different from the mayors, whispers me these words. It is cold, composed and calculating.


    Right. I knew it. I just ignored it because the alternative seemed more pleasant. Was it not nice to play teacher, just to get company? Was it not nice to run away, to escape from responsibility? It sure was.


    ¡°I said I am sorry.¡±


    ¡°Oh, are you really? Is it not a bit late for this? The damage is already done... What does being sorry change now? Does it get people unhurt?¡±


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Yet again, I feel like crying. Every word this voice says hurts more than the time I fell into nettles when I was younger.


    ¡°I said I am sorry...¡± When will this voice be satisfied? I am sorry, and that is all I can do at the moment. What does it expect me to do? Create a miracle to revive the dead? Hunt down the predator?


    ¡°That would be a good start.¡± Gloating, stinging, malicious. This is the nature of this voice...


    ¡°I heard it the first time, no need to repeat it.¡± The mayor''s words snap me back into reality. ¡°Maybe I was harsh. You are a kid. What, 10 years old? What did I even expect of someone of that age?¡± The mayors anger seems to have subsided, at least partially. I look at his face. There is a deep tiredness in his looks. His age estimation might just be correct. It is about this time of the year that I grow a year older.


    I want to say something, struggle for a good formulation, but the mayor beats me to it. ¡°You know what that is like? Having a son unconscious, with a severe crippling injury? The healer said it is unlikely that this hand will ever be able to grip onto something ever again. On top of it, his wound got infected. We have proper medication, the healer assured me that his life is not in danger. But still, do you know what this does to a father?¡±


    ¡°No. I do not know it.¡± My words sound weak, but I can not muster the strength to change that fact. Brian is unconscious? His wound infected? The guilt on top of my shoulders feels as heavy as ever.


    ¡°Of course not, you are still a mere child. All I want to do now is sitting at his side.¡± He looks down on the papers piling on his desk.


    ¡°Why are you not doing that, then?¡±


    ¡°What a dumb question! I have to explain a lot of husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, sons and daughters why their relatives did not come back from a simple search trip.¡± The mayors voice sounds pleading at this point. I feel hit in the gut.


    ¡°Moreover, do you know how many friends I lost this day? Good acquaintances? People I have known for over a decade?¡±


    I remain quiet. What should I even say to that? I know the number. Nine people, I counted.


    My silence seems to be words enough. ¡°Oh. Kuum... He was a good, honest man. Judging from your reaction and lack of questions, you already found out what happened to them. I am sorry for him.¡±


    I nod, pathetically. Then, I remember why I came here initially.


    ¡°Where is my mother?¡±


    ¡°Iuli? She... is laying in our guest room, at the moment. She fell unconscious when she heard about what happened to her husband. We could hardly let her lie on the street, so we took her in. It was obvious that she was unable to care for herself, and it was not sure that you would ever return. Given what happened in the forest.¡±


    ¡°Can I see her?¡±


    ¡°She is asleep. Did you look outside? It is dark. Leave her that way.¡±


    I see. Mother collapsed. To be fair, anyone who would have seen her walk would have suspected that only a matter of time. Yet, the final straw was shock.


    What else has life on line? How is it going to shock me now? I feel dead. Inside.


    ¡°On top of it, I have to contact the magic guild. To send an Exterminator. To Cottan. Words I never thought I would have to use in a sentence.¡±


    ¡°An Exterminator?¡±


    ¡°Oh right, I forgot your worldly knowledge is as good as that of a loaf of bread. Listen, I would love to have an extensive talk about all of that. Not only you, I have questions as well. About magic. About how you taught my children. How everything came to this disaster. However, I have tasks I have to tend to, and as soon as possible. Requesting aid. Help. And, I have to think about how to do all of this without revealing the magic ability of my children, and you. So go now. Leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°What about Brian? Where is he?¡±


    ¡°At the village healer''s house. Go now.¡±


    I nod, and head out of the room. The last thing I see before closing the doors is the mayor grabbing a pen, sighing, and then starting to write on the paper on his desk.


    Only after leaving the room, lots and lots of questions flood my head. Was he with the search crew? Did he see the attacker? If so, how did all of this go? Also, why would it be so bad if the magic academy learned of our magic? I think about entering the room again and demanding answers, but that would likely get the mayor even more upset than he already is.


    Since Brian gave me an extended tour in this house once, I know where the guest room is. I open the door, and its well-oiled angles are not making any noticeable sounds. There are three tidy beds, and on one of them my mother is sleeping. The one in the middle is occupied by a person I do not recognize, and the one to the left is empty. I approach the bed in which my mother is, slowly as to not wake her up. She looks like she is sleeping like normal, so I leave her. I gently close the door, and quietly leave the house.


    Even though I feel tired, my steps are not heavy, and I am not freezing. This could be part of the explanation of my headache ¨C part of me was still calculating the necessary things to sustain two spells. I do not know how this became as easy as breathing, but it seems to be, and it saved my life once or twice, so I will not complain. The headache is noticeable, but is not of the sort that quenches clear thought.


    The streets are still empty. This is probably for the best. I take the shortest path to the village healers house, and knock on the door, as silently as I can. Then a bit louder, and yet a bit, up to the point where the door is opened.


    ¡°Yes? What do you want?¡± The doctor looks at me with a slight hint of annoyance. ¡°Are you injured on your own, or did you just thought you would come by for a sick visit?¡±


    She has always been very direct, that is what I like about her. ¡°I want to see Brian.¡±


    She sighs. ¡°At least it is not an injury that brings you here. I already have enough patients to tend to. But, congratulations for returning uninjured, I guess. I will say that I had liked the situation where you never ran away in the first place a whole lot better.¡±


    The doctor has dark circles under her eyes as well. ¡°I am sorry that things turned out as they did.¡± It may not be much, but an apology is all I can give at this point.


    ¡°Yes, I am too. I initially settled down here not to treat such gruesome injuries, you know?¡±


    Another sentence to add onto my ever-growing mountain of guilt. ¡°I am sorry.¡±


    ¡°I know. I need to go back in. Come with me. You have right and duty to see what your actions entailed.¡± She steps inside, and leaves the door open.


    I gulp, and follow. The room is illuminated by a fire burning in a stove in the corner, which heats the room. All two beds are occupied, and there are three emergency mattresses laid out on the ground. In each of them lies a person, one of them completely covered by a blanket. Drips are standing next to the other ones, containing a clear fluid. The one to my left has a thick, bloodied bandage on his left arm. I recognize him as one of the villages lumberjacks. The second person I do not recognize, but where her left leg once was, there is a bandaged stump.


    ¡°What a sight, is it not? Makes you think we are at a front line, not in some boonies. It is a wonder that those three were still alive when they were carried here. The mayor sure is amazing. I saw him coming here, two of them shouldered by himself. Sadly, it was too late for one of them after all.¡± She looks bitterly to the completely covered body.


    This sight makes me feel like puking more than what I have seen in the forest. The doctor hands me a bucket, right in time. All that comes out is a clear fluid that burns in my throat and mouth. The doctor is already at changing a wet towel on the head of one of the persons in the beds. I recognize him as the boy already here when I first came to this place with my concussion.


    ¡°You are not here to see the search crew survivors, are you? Go see who you are here to see. He is in the other bed. I need to tend to this boy here now, so do not interrupt me for the next minutes.¡± She gives me no glance after that.


    Right, there was an other reason why I came here. I silently step up to the second bed. Brian lies in there, sleeping. He looks pale, and his right arm is bandaged and splinted. His hand, however, is just covered in an greenish paste. It is the fingers are all bent and broken in unnatural angles, and bone pieces are protruding here and there. I keep standing there and looking at him, uncertain what I should do.


    Eventually, a hand finds its way onto my shoulder. ¡°I can use you help.¡± I turn around. The doctor points at the covered corpse. ¡°I need as much space in here as I can get. We need to to take him into my backyard, his condition will not worsen by that at this point. I would do it myself, but he is heavy.¡±


    I look at her, perplexed for a second, then I nod. I release the self-lighten technique, with the intention to apply it to the freight afterwards. However, my legs are unable to handle the sudden weight increase, and I slump down.


    I see the doctor rushing to me at the side of my eye, but I get up on my own, with trembling legs. ¡°I am fine, I am fine.¡± Being remembered my true weight, my body suddenly feels very tired. My headache grows worse as a result of the dwindling magic euphoria. Yet, I need to do this before allowing myself to sleep. I walk over to the body, and apply my whole remaining coefficient as upwards acceleration. I fail the first two attempts, but on the third, the magic euphoria I got used to sets in. It is not nearly enough to make this body weightless, but it should at least halve the effective weight.


    I try to lift the corpse on my own, but it is still to heavy for my tired self. The doctor comes to help, and together, we carry the body through the backdoor into the yard. Miscellaneous herbs are growing in neat rows, even protruding through the snow cover. ¡°It does not look like it will rain tonight, so we can just put him on the snow here. It is not perfect, but what time allows.¡± We put the body down, and return back into the house.


    Once we are back in the treatment room, I get back to my position next to Brian.


    ¡°That was surprisingly light just now. Did you do something?¡± I turn around, and nod in answer to the question. ¡°Remarkable... The mayor told me that you, as well as his children, learned to use magic. That this is how Brian got injured.¡± I nod again. ¡°I can not even begin to fathom how you managed all of this. It is surreal, really.¡±


    Bitterness surges into my voice. ¡°It is not like any good came from it yet.¡±


    ¡°True... Go now. You look terrible, you have to get rest. I don''t need another patient I have to tend to.¡± The doctor gives me my sign to leave. I want to stay here, but I realize that this would be unreasonable.


    ¡°Truthfully.¡± I open the door outside, get a last view on the doctor already being at work again, changing one of the infusions for the victims on the ground, and close it behind me.


    Where to should I go? I do not feel like returning to my shed. I do not feel like begging the mayor for a guest bed, either. I can not bother the doctor for a bed, either. In face of magic self-heating ¨C what does a bed even matter? The ground in front of me suddenly looks very alluring. I yawn, and roll together in the snow. It is a bit cold, but rather a slight chill. I felt hot in the house, so this is a welcome refreshment.


    I close my eyes, and sleep overcomes me.


    Dream 5


    I sit on a chair in my shed. The other two chairs are occupied as well, by my father without a head, and Brian without an arm. A pot of stew is cooking itself on the stove, cutting vegetables on its own. We all wait for food in silence. After ten minutes, the pot serves itself, and all of us have stew in our bowls now. The silence bugs me out, so I try taking word.


    ¡°Do you think we will stay like this forever?¡±


    Father squirms around on his chair.


    Brian answers, but it is not his voice, yet rather a very cold and dark one. ¡°Why would I want to talk to you? You mutilated me.¡±


    Insulted by this rebuke, I snap back. ¡°Yes? Is that so? Well, keep whining about it, and you will never have friends.¡± I sigh, and turn around to father. ¡°What about you?¡±


    The same voice speaks again. Father does not have a mouth. In order to speak, he gurgles something from the red line on his neck where his head was severed. ¡°Why would I want to talk to you? You killed me.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°What else do you want me to do? I did what I could.¡±


    Suddenly, the two fall over. Black smoke dissipates from their bodies, and finally forms another person in front of me. The dark voice is now clear as ever, freed from the impurities of Brian''s childish tongue and the normal inability to speak that comes with being headless.


    ¡°You know what to do now. Go, and get revenge! Kill the beast that is the cause for all of this!¡±


    ¡°But what will that change?¡± Even if I set out to kill the beast, and manage to do it, it will not bring the dead back, it will not heal Brian''s arm.


    ¡°That are the thoughts of a coward. It is about justice! Justice is what will solve this situation. Go now!¡± The voice sounds almost commanding now. The black silhouette grows further and further.


    ¡°I do not want to...¡± I try to ward it off in a last, desperate attempt.


    ¡°GO!¡± The creature expands even more rapidly than before, and covers everything in darkness.

 10 Years, Village. Farewell

    10 Years, Village. Farewell


    I wake up to the sight of an unfamiliar room. I am laying on a bed, and a very comfortable one as well. The room is very small, and almost exclusively filled up by the bed, which, on second inspection, is a good deal larger than what would fit my size. I get up, and a wet towel falls into my lap. It seems to have rested on my forehead. I touch my forehead, it feels warm. There is a heavy Blanket beneath me, which looks like it is meant to cover someone with in cold, freezing nights.


    I get up. I still wear my familiar robe, but it is drenched in sweat. My whole body feels extremely hot, at that. Hot and heavy.


    Oh, right. I lower my self-heating to a minimum, and reapply my self-lightening. The lightened form grew on me a lot in the past two days, I hardly feel like going back to what weight I was used to carry around. A mild dizziness lingers as I channel the spell, but it is nothing, compared to what struck me down when using this technique initially.


    I feel well-rested, but terrible thirst and hunger are tormenting me. I inspect the room, hoping to find something edible, but there is nothing. A small window lets in an even smaller amount of sunlight, an unlit oil lamp hanging from the wall seems to be meant as a primary light source. A few books stand in a small wall-mounted book shelf. I pick one out at random. After having trouble reading the text, I think it is called: ¡°The Anatomy of a Human''s Body¡±. I open a page at random, intrigued by this promising title, and land on a intricate depiction of a human hand, including bones, each and every fit with with a name and description.


    This book is basically the answer to all my anatomical research I did in the past. I opened all those animals, tried to draw conclusions from them to my own body, and the final answer is just written in this book? How wonderful. I close the book and inspect its back. It is decorated by a Human weirdly distorted. hands and head are over-proportionally large, while the rest of the body seems rather frail and short. A very small caption reads: ¡°Always be aware of your strengths and weaknesses.¡± At the bottom, a small line reads: ¡°Magic guild doctor issue. Do not distribute.¡±


    I want to read more of it, but my stomach growling aggressively keeps me from doing so. To think of it, I have not eaten in almost two days now... I put the book back at its place. It is clear whose house this is now, taking the books standing here into account. I open the door, and step into a familiar hallway. To my left, there is the garden where I put down the corpse. To my right, there is a door. The light of a burning fire shines through the semi-transparent glass pane embedded in the top half.


    I knock at the door. An audible ¡°Come in.¡± sounds, and I open the door. A clearly overworked and dead-tired doctor kneels over one of the patients, which is moving slightly and seems to have his eyes opened, and feeds them with a spoon. She has a bowl with steaming soup next to her, and a pot of presumably the same thing standing on a small, separate cooking stove. ¡°You could have told me you were on the verge of collapsing. It would have spared me the hassle to drag you into the bed.¡±


    ¡°I did not realise this myself, either.¡± Collapsed? I think I just slept on the ground. Collapsing would imply that it was involuntary. After seeming to have followed my gaze, which has been locked on the steaming pot ever since it touched it, she sighs. ¡°No point thinking about it now. Are you hungry?¡±


    This question perplexes me. Am I hungry? My stomach cramps painfully, and emits a loud roaring. Yes, I think I am hungry. I nod. ¡°You can help yourself to a bowl then. Once you are finished eating, grab another and start feeding the boy in the bed over there. He can gulp down the food you give him just fine, but he cant eat on his own.¡± Silently, as if she says this more to herself than to me, she adds: ¡°It will spell trouble if the others do not awake soon... They have not eaten in days either.¡±


    I fill myself a bowl, and start eating it. It is hot, but the hunger prevents me from taking my time and blowing the steam off first. In the background I hear further rambling. ¡°This is one of the moments were I wished the guild would issue adapters to doctors more easily...¡±


    The soup is very liquid, probably as a measurement to make it more easily digestible. It tastes alright, but only for my low standards. The doctor seems more proficient in mixing medicine than in cooking. Since there are nearly no big chunks or things of the sort, I can just drink it ¨C which I do promptly. Then, I fill the bowl again, and head over to Brian''s bed.


    ¡°No, not him. He has yet to awaken. The other patient.¡±


    Right. I take a quick glance at Brian, there is not much change compared to a few hours ago. Then, I head over to the other bed, and take a first real look at the boy inside. A wet towel is lying on his forehead ¨C probably as an caution against fever. His lower half is covered by a blanket. He is younger than me, maybe five ¨C six at most. His eyes are open, and seem to follow my every movement. His mouth is open, a thin stream of saliva is continuously flowing from his mouth.


    I fill the spoon, which looks closer to a miniature ladle, with soup and bring it to the boy''s mouth. He squirms as the spoon touches his lips, and I retract my hand. ¡°He does not want it.¡± I look over my shoulder, in the direction of the doctor who just now finished feeding her patient, and is changing the drip of the other one. The person with no leg, which the doctor just now fed, stares at me. A woozy look lies on her face, but she still musters the consciousness to focus on my face with her almost drunken gaze. It creeps me out.


    ¡°Of course not, it is much too hot. You got to blow it cold. Not everyone likes burning their mouth as much as you.¡± Now that she says it, my mouth does hurt. The hunger just helped masking that pain.


    ¡°Understood.¡± I break eye contact with the injured woman on the ground, and face the boy in front of me again. He looks at me, with much calmer, clearer eyes than the attacked victim on the ground. I blow of the steam of the spoon, but cooling it takes awfully long. Finally, I deem the temperature right, and I try feeding the boy again. This time, he eats without complaining.


    Next spoon. Blowing the soup to a tolerable temperature takes me several times of taking and exhausting my breath, for each spoon. This is tiresome, and having to take breath every few seconds is annoying.


    What started out as an interesting task quickly became repetitive and boring. There must be and easier way of doing this.. with magic. I create a miniature scale wind spell. This adds a third demanding spell to my two already running ones, but I manage. A slight gust emerges from right before the spoon, and cools it down without me having to do anything else.


    The boys eyes widen upon seeing that. He was looking at the spoon in anticipation all the time, but now his grey eyes are solely looking at me.


    This little trick shortens the time I need immensely. It is not terribly efficient though ¨C if I had a way to reduce the warmth energy in an object, instead of increasing it, this would be a lot easier.


    Finally, the bowl of stew is empty. I get up to put it back on the table where I took it from, but as soon as I make efforts to do so, the boy starts wriggling again. I remain frozen for a few seconds, but as he does not stop, I turn away totally. Just as I want to ask the doctor what to do now, a ghastly screeching sounds from behind my back. I swivel around. The boys gaze is still locked on my face, and as soon as I look at him, he stops with his tirade.


    ¡°He seems to have taken a liking in you, How unusual.¡± The doctor chuckles. This may very well be the first time I heard her chuckle. I look around to her. Her face is still ridden by deep shadows and wrinkles, but a slight smile plays around the edge of her mouth. As soon as I face away from the boy, he starts screeching again. A sour look appears on my face. I sigh, and turn around again.


    The wailing stops. Cold steel eyes look into my own, hazel brown. The doctor seems to have noticed my predicament, and steps next to me. She seems to have completed whatever she had to do, at least for this short moment. ¡°Now, listen, little one... I know you are excited you met someone new. It does not happen a lot, I know that. But, you must not behave like this, just because this person has not all the time in the world for you like I do.¡±


    A different look appears in the boys eyes, almost reminiscing... guilt? It is baffling how the doctors demeanour changed so drastically just by speaking to another person. Also... ¡°He understands?¡±


    ¡°Of course he does. He is fully sentient.¡± A slender, but strong hand pushes past me, and I take a step back to not obstruct its way. The doctor gently strokes the boys forehead. I watch, uncertain what I should do. Finally, the doctor resumes her work again, as if nothing happened. The boy still watches me and her, but I decide to give that no attention any more.


    As I turn around my back on the bed the boy is occupying, I immediately see the woman who looks at me, with a very hazy, clouded gaze, a polar opposite to the clear, understanding eyes of the boy. The doctor is hunched over her, and changes the rags covering her leg stump. I catch a glimpse of the wound ¨C something is sewn over it. It looks similar to human skin, but not quite like the real deal. However, the doctor works very fast and efficient, and therefore the leg is covered in rags again before I can draw further conclusions.


    ¡°Go, take out these bloody rags. I can not afford to leave this place for any longer than absolutely necessary.¡± She stretches her arm out in my direction, the ¨C indeed encrusted in dried blood ¨C rags dangling from her hand. Her behaviour seemed much less tired when she cared for the bed-ridden boy, but all of that is back now, or even worse. Yet, she makes no signs of failing her work, and her dead-tired eyes contrast the stoic look that inhabits them. Normally, I would think she was on the verge of collapsing. But the doctor is a doctor after all, she knows her bodily limits.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    I nod, take the rags, and leave through the front door.


    After being in what felt like scorching heat inside the house, it feels refreshing to step into the cold air again, with snow covering the streets and roofs. I reapply my heating, and take a look around.


    The street is empty. This is weird, considering the time ¨C almost noon. I dump the rags on the small garbage pile in front of the house. Everything on it seems very recent, not older than two or three days. On the opposite side of the street, a door opens. A villager stands in the doorway ¨C staring at me in disbelief.


    ¡°You... YOU!¡± I flinch. What is his deal? Does he want to attract the whole village? ¡°THE BOY! ITS THE BOY! THE BOY WHO RAN AWAY!¡± I start feeling uncomfortable. The shout echoes through the street for a moment ¨C and just before it fades, a second voice tunes in. ¡°Where?!¡± A second door opens, then a third. The street starts filling with people. ¡°He is it!¡± ¡°How is that possible...¡± ¡°How comes that he is fine, while...¡±


    A crowd assembles in the short time I stand there, confused about the situation, and it assembles quicker than I would have ever thought it possible before. Finally, a man steps out of the crowd, and approaches me. His eyes are reddened, and he looks angry. ¡°Hey, boy! Where the hell where you? Do you even know what happened to...¡± A ashamed look distorts my face, involuntarily. This seems sign enough for the man. His face darkens even more than before. ¡°So you know. Come with us to the mayor. Now.¡±


    I refuse. What would happen if I go with this angry man? The crowd of freshly done weeping faces? I refuse to let chance decide and find out. I bolt to the door of the doctors house, rip it open, and slam it shut behind me. From outside, I hear mad cries. ¡°Come back here, you little shit!¡±


    I lean my back against the door, my something in my chest is pumping like mad. The doctor looks at me with a grim-bitter gaze, but averts her eyes before speaking. ¡°I saw the injuries. I can imagine the dead. I hate to say it, but this is a normal reaction.¡±


    I hear steps approaching the door. The boy in the bed looks at me, with a curious gaze. Does he know of the predicament I am in? I am weighing my options.


    Wait it out here?


    Before I can even think that thought through, the doctor answers my question. ¡°I will try to keep them out. You are a patient of mine. Yet, I think their motivation to get you is justified. I will not endanger myself or my other patients for your sake. As soon as they threaten violence, I will yield.¡±


    I nod. That is cruel of her, ditching me. But, I am not shameless enough to discuss with her about that, it would not end in my benefit.


    Then, Submitting to them?


    ¡°Yes, yes, that is the way! Submit yourself. Repent. Repent! Let them get you in their just striving for revenge!¡± The cold voice sends chills down my spine. I swat it away. Yesterday, I spent a lot of time loathing myself. I have enough of it. Submitting, no, surrender, is not an option.


    Fighting?


    Ludicrous. This would never work out. I know a little magic, but while that could maybe take one or two by surprise, it would only enrage them afterwards. On top of that, it would disappoint people I care for. I strike this one as well, or at least postpone it as the last resort.


    Heavy knocks shake the door. I quickly make place for the doctor, who opens the door and impolitely attacks the mob verbally. ¡°Quiet! I have patients in urgent need of rest. I believe it is in your interest that Helene gets plenty of rest, is it not, Ulmar?¡± That must be the names of the woman lying here, and the man leading the mob. No wonder he is worked up.


    In light of this predicament, there is only one option I have, really. It would be foolish to believe that the doctor can avert them for long. I take an extensive look through the room, until I find what I need on a small table in the corner of the room: My sheathed knife and my multi-purpose pouch. This option, is running. To the mayor. He certainly has the authority to keep me safe for a while ¨C for long enough to think how to resolve this situation, at least.


    ¡°Be reasonable, Fabienne! This boy got an obligation to us. Do you know what pain we had to endure because of him? He must pay for what he did!¡±


    Yes, the air is getting hot here. I take a last look at Brian ¨C still unconscious. ¡°I am sorry.¡± I know he does not hear me. I know it. Yet, it feels like the right thing to say.


    The conversation at the door is getting heated up ¨C time for me to leave. I scurry through the backdoor, and run in the direction of the marketplace, to the mayors house. It is not very far away.


    I run as fast as can, even with self-lightening. Someone of the crowd seems to have spotted me as I dash over the road, for I hear them getting loud. There is one bend in the street, and it serves well to make them loose sight of me soon. I run straight to the house front ¨C and instead of knocking at the door, I take a giant leap, and jump straight onto the balcony. I almost lost balance when landing on the railing and fell back down, but I somehow managed to fall to the other side, onto the balcony and not down on the ground.


    I knock at the window. After a half a minute of silence, I knock again. Nothing happens, yet again, so I push down the door handle and open the door. Inside, the mayor is sleeping on the desk. Now that I am inside, I can hear the snoring clearly. However, I will need him awake right now.


    I shake the mayors shoulder. He is heavy, so it seems not much what I can actually do, but the man actually starts moving, so I take a step back. Slowly, the mayor raises his head, and winks crust out of his eyes. ¡°Huh? You? How did you...?¡±


    It is apparent that the mayor is still tired, but I can see that he has had a decent amount of rest since I saw him last this midnight. ¡°I used magic to jump on the balcony, and opened the door from there.¡±


    The mayor seems perplexed. ¡°I see... I had not thought of that security flaw.¡± He shakes his head rapidly, as how I would do it to get it clear. ¡°Pardon me.¡± He stands up from his chair, and swiftly strides to the door into the house, passes through it, and is gone.


    Now it is my turn to be perplexed. For the lack of a better idea, I open a very specific drawer at the mayors desk ¨C it contains exactly what I had hoped. I open my pouch, let a certain print of ¡°What is Magic ¨C The basics¡± glide in, and try to conceal it with my robe as good as possible. Then, move a chair clearly meant for guests in front of the desk, and take a seat. Even though my situation is bleak, this brings me a little spark of joy and satisfaction.


    It does not take long for the mayor to return, but it was enough time for him to seemingly become a wholly new person. He is wearing a fresh garment, his eyes are clean of sleep, and his posture is not resembling that of someone who just woke up at all. ¡°First of all, thanks for waking me up. I should not have fallen asleep at this time, and this place.¡± He takes a seat in his armchair behind the desk.


    I wave in a dismissing gesture. ¡°Do not mind it. I have an urgent problem, and I need your help.¡± I hear the crowd assembling on the marketplace. From what I saw on the street, there must be around twenty people.


    ¡°You break into my room, and then have the guts to make demands? Bold.¡± The mayor does not have the face to match the criticizing tone, though. He ultimately shrugs. ¡°Let me hear it. That alone can not hurt.¡±


    ¡°Save me.¡± I point in the direction of the window. ¡°Save me from those people.¡±


    The mayor sighs. ¡°Do you really think you have to ask me for that? As long as I am mayor of this Village, I will not tolerate lynchings ¨C especially not on children. But, I understand their pain. In fact, I share it. I lost a lot of community members, and friends. Being reasonable as I am, I know that injustice will not make the problems disappear. Will not make everything go back to normal. Will not magically get rid of the fucking Owlbear in front of our village. Yet, there is a little part in me that is unreasonable.¡±


    The mayor gets up from his chair, and closes in on me. I can smell foul odour from his mouth, his face is not a hands span afar from mine. He whispers: ¡°It wants to grab you right here, and drag you outside to all the good, honest people out there. It wants to see an earned, although not morally justified form of Justice.¡± Directly after finishing the second sentence, he sits back down.


    ¡°When all of this is over, be sure that you behaved in a way that makes me not regret not listening to this little part of my conscious.¡±


    I gulp. I completely forgot how frightening the mayor, the person of absolute power in our village, can be. I nod. ¡°Whatever I can do...¡±


    ¡°Good we understand each other.¡± Saying these words, the mayor approaches the door to the balcony, but refrains from opening the door and stepping outside to say a few last words. ¡°Oh, one thing ¨C I believe Iuli is awake. You may want to talk to her.¡± Then, he steps outside.


    ¡°Villagers of Cottan!¡± With a voice that is loud, deep and used to authority, the mayor gets the public attention.


    ¡°The mayor...¡± ¡°Its the mayor!¡± ¡°Quiet, the mayor is going to talk!¡± Faint murmur reaches the room.


    ¡°I understand your unrest ¨C better than anyone else. I lost as much in the past days as all of you. Still, this is a lawful place! No matter the circumstances, I can and will never... ¡°


    I do not hear the rest of the speech. Almost immediately after it started, I get on my way to the guest room, where my mother should be.


    On the way, I come across the mayors wife in the hallway. I want to pass her quickly, but she looks at me with deep reproach, I would even say hatred. I am confused. She always seemed like such a nice woman ¨C where does this come from? No matter the reason, she is none of my concern now. I try to pass her quickly, but she grabs me as I get too close. Why would she do that?


    I quickly free myself, and take three swift steps back. Then, I look at her face, this time properly. There is hatred, most definitely. Is it against me?


    Before I can make more thoughts, she spits on the ground, looks at me disdainful, and hastily scurries away, in the opposite direction of guest room. I can not afford to waste to much thoughts on it, therefore I quickly enter the guest room before another problem could emerge.


    Mother sits upright in the guest room ¨C she is the only one present in the room. The person that had laid in the middle bed is gone. As soon as the door opens, mother starts greeting me warmly. ¡°Ah, Rei! You have finally come! Come here, let me hug you...¡±


    I would rather not, but I also do not want to refuse her, so I get close to her, and she embraces me in a tight hug. ¡°Oh, Rei... I am so glad you came. I had terrible dreams, terrible terrible dreams. I want to talk with you about it, once your father comes back as well.¡±


    ¡°He wont... come back.¡± I stutter those words. Without being able to actively control it, tears start overflowing from my eyes. A knot has tied up in my chest as of yesterday, and only in the gentle embrace of my mother it seems to have loosened a little bit.


    ¡°What are you even saying? Of course he well come back. He is just on his way, out to... search you? Rei, why are you crying? Shhhh, come here. Be a good kid, let me wipe those tears...¡±


    I can not bear it any more. The guilt, the shame, the sorrow. In light of all this, an idea that had been lingering in my head for days finally solidifies and takes concrete shape.


    I force myself to stop crying. It seems to work, I think. It is hard to tell, since internally, I am weeping no less than I just now did externally. ¡°Its alright, mother, its alright...¡± I squirm myself out of her embrace. ¡°I will go now... I have to do something. It is urgent.¡± I step back from mothers bed, almost fleeingly.


    ¡°Oh, I see... Take good care, then.¡± Mother seems down upon hearing that.


    ¡°Do not fret, I will return to you as soon as possible.¡± This is a hollow promise, and I feel bad to feed mother with it. But, it is also a necessity. I quickly leave the room, leaving mother behind.


    The idea of mine is to exterminate the beast that set all these stones loose and rolling. The mayor talked with me about taking responsibility ¨C did he mean this by that? When I do this, will at least the lives of the survivors gain some sort of normality? I walk through the floor, with the mayors office as my goal. The mayor offered me shelter here, but in the light of everything, I can not accept it. I have other, more important things to do.


    The mayor seems just in an argue when I re-enter the room. ¡°Try to think it through from the boys perspective, too. He is ridden with guilt! Nothing of what happened was ever his intention, not even in the slightest. I...¡±


    A loud voice interrupts the mayor. ¡°But that does not change the facts! After all, ...¡±


    I dash past the mayor, who gives me a surprised, and then a terrified look when he seems to understand my goal. I jump off the balcony ¨C and sail ten metres, far behind the crowd that has assembled.


    ¡°There he is! Catch him!¡± Loud shouts of that sorts fly through the air. But, I do not plan on letting that happen. I sprint as fast as I can, into the direction of the village exit that borders to the forest.


    "SCHNUR ZIEL BINDEN!¡± As I recognize the chant language, conveyed by the mayors full voice, I dig deep into my power reserves, and dash forward. Not a second too late. I hear something like a thread flying through the air directly behind me. ¡°Come back! You fool! You don''t even know what expects you! Come back IMMEDI...¡± I get past the distance where I can understand the crowd and the mayor.


    I enter the forest. Having spent a lot of time travelling through the forest, I move in it like second nature, and it synergizes well with my self-lightening.


    I run through the forest, with a single goal in mind ¨C extermination of the beast who murdered my father, and so many others.


    The hunt is on.

 10 Years, Forest. Hunt.

    10 Years, Forest. Hunt.


    I breathe heavily, and come to a halt. I ran faster than ever just now, and spent all my breath on it. I try to calm myself down, try to steady my breath, thoughts and will. This is it ¨C should I ever return to the village, I doubt even the Mayor can, or is willing to, stop the masses from tearing me apart. I ran away from that ¨C but this is first time I ran to solve a problem and not to escape from it. There is nothing left I can do in the village to resolve this situation.


    The beast which is responsible for this mess must die. This way, it wont be able to hurt anyone ever again ¨C and especially my Mother, Brian and Ione. The Mayor and the Doctor being out of danger is a plus as well, I guess. The other people... I do not care what happens to them, in all honesty. They ever brought me more pain than good. Yet, maybe if I defeat this foe, it will even quench their anger, and let me return to what family and friends I have left.


    "At least if they still want to see you after everything that happened."


    I bundle my hand to a fist, and hit the side of my head. This will be my go-to procedure now, anytime the cold voice feels like taking word again. It gets my head clear, and seems to shut it up for a bit.


    I take a look around. I do know where I am, more or less. A few minutes inside the forest. I figure that nobody would actually come for me in here, not after what happened last time.


    Now, I have to make a plan on how to actually get rid of the predator. In mind, I go over what tools I have in my arsenal. My trusty knife. Despite all the years it served me, it never rusted ¨C father once explained that it was made out of a special steel mass-produced at the magic guild, which does not rust. It does get dull from time to time, but he also showed me how to sharpen it. Father...


    I hit myself against the head again. I can not allow myself to get distracted when I have a goal in mind. Masking pain with pain might be not ideal, but what else should I do in this situation?


    Then, my most used and useful tool: My magic. I can manipulate heat and movement ¨C of my own body, of rocks, pebbles, water, air, and whatnot else. This could be used to hunt and cook, and therefore bring me cooked meat rather easily. My self-lightening can act as a wonderful way to travel, and my self-heating removes the need of warmth from a potential sleeping spot, opening up completely new possibilities of where to sleep. It is winter, without this power, the forest would be inhabitable to me.


    The ability to manipulate air is likely only going to be moderately useful. Sadly, my low coefficient limits what I can actually do with all these intricate techniques severely. Had I only a half of Brians power, I could make myself fly, create mighty winds, or combust everything at will.


    Still, these all are tremendously useful abilities, out of question ¨C but for a longer while now, I feel like I am barely scratching the surface of what is possible. There are still so many unsolved mysteries out there. Is light energy? Are emotions energy? What are the limits of magic? Once I have ridden myself of every other, more urgent matter, I feel like thinking about all those questions ¨C hard, and long. It is an aspect that got lost in the later days of my magic studies with Brian and Ione. We refined what we had, tried to explore every nook and cranny of its potential usage ¨C but not one of us ever felt the need to take the pain onto themselves of actually inventing a completely new technique.


    The long hours of trying to figure out movement in its essence ¨C they were painful, but they were fulfilling. Brian and Ione probably felt similar when they were trying to find their forms of magic.


    But all of this does not matter at this moment. The sooner I get rid of the beast, the better. Therefore, my plan consists of two steps: First, find it. Second, kill it. The first is probably going to prove more problematic than the second one.


    As if to prove it to myself, I let the knife glide out of its sheath, and whirl around in the air, cutting up a small shrub before me. Via movement magic, of course. I nod, and let it fly back to its sheath. With this, I can go for eyes, throats, tendons, and any other weak point. If that fails for some reason, I can still launch pebbles like a maniac.


    I start wandering around, in search of possible traces. The beast should be somewhere in this area, and its tracks are quite obvious, even to the unkeen eye. The sun is still rather high in the sky, although that will change in a few hours. Should I find it now ¨C I may not even have to fight it. It has behaved nocturnal so far, and an animal of this size and power should not find too many hiding spots. Maybe it is just sleeping somewhere on the ground. There are no caves in this area that I would know of. If I find it sleeping, I will not hesitate to just slit its throat without resistance.


    It does not take long for me to find tracks ¨C after all, they largely consist of devastated area and rugged trees. How big must this animal be... Its footprints are also quite distinct. Huge, and like mix of a claw and a paw. I remember the words of the Mayor: "...get rid of the fucking Owlbear in front..." What is an Owlbear? At that point in time, the mayors further monologue quickly killed that question. But now, that I think of it, I should have asked the Mayor more about my target when I had the chance. He seemed to know what it was, and could have given me valuable information. But, I can hardly go back now and ask.


    While the sun starts sinking, I find more and more signs of the beast''s presence. From time to time, I find obliterated animal corpses: as usual, with their heads intact. They were in various states of decomposition, and also varying in size. I count two deer, a boar, three foxes, and at least twenty smaller animals. The sheer amount and variety is impressive, and frightening. Squirrels, rabbits, hares, there was even a mouse. How can such a large animal have such a precision? The head was never damaged, not once. The rest of the body was finely torn to shreds. The stench is awful.


    I wandered a bit deeper into the forest by now, deeper than I usually go. Here, the smell is ever-present. No matter where you look, there are signs of destruction somewhere. I am definitely on the right way. The light is starting to dwindle, I should find the beast soon if I want to kill it in its sleep.


    I step into something glibbery. I take a look at my foot ¨C that is definitely flesh and blood. I seem to be on some sort of forest glade, with a boulder in the middle. It reminisces me of the clearing I used to read my book on ¨C up to the point where I broke the magic meter in the back, that is. Later, Brian, Ione and me practised there. It was also the place where Brian injured himself...


    It may not be the best time and place for that, but I decide that I want to sit down on the boulder, and pretend to read. Its stinking, but so does it everywhere here, and I do not care. If I do not find my prey anyway before dusk, I can wait for it here as well. Like that, I will at least be able to choose the battleground.


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    I carefully take the book out of the pouch, and go to the boulder. It is to dark to read, or see anything really well, but I don''t care. I could jump on it easily, my self-lightening allows for that. But, for the sake of the old times, I will climb onto it.


    I rapidly jump back a few meters. This rock... is it moving? Ever so slightly, but it seems to vibrate. Could it be... I quickly put the book back into the pouch, and draw the knife. If it only would not be so dark...


    I approach slowly, careful to not make a single sound. On a second look, the texture seems odd, almost like... feathers. Feathers and fur.


    My heart rate starts to rise. Sweat starts pearling from my skin. This is...


    I circle the huge animal in front of me. The darkness tricked my eyes ¨C how did I ever see a boulder in that? It is massive.


    Its forelegs are thick as branches. Brown-Grey Feathers cover them, and I see massive claws protruding from its paws. Its head looks like the Bear trophy hanging in the small tavern of our village ¨C only instead of the mouth, it got a menacing beak. Its eyes are closed ¨C luckily. It is laying down, and still towering me by a meter. I see why the mayor called it an owlbear... and I see how it obliterated the search troop.


    Cold sweat running all down my body irritates me. How am I going to kill this monstrosity...


    Slit its throat. It seems to be my only option, with what means I have. My hand shakes uncontrollably, and my legs feel like failing me any second.


    I form a fist, and knock it hard against my head. Now is not the time for weakness. I have to do it now. Now is the chance...


    I firmly grip the knife, and enclose on the beast. I touch its neck with my left hand, to find an optimal spot to stab with my right. The feathers covering the neck look a bit like downs, and they tickle my hand as I wipe them away. The skin beneath is rough. Rough and cold. The animal is not any warmer than the surrounding temperature. Is it dead? I hold the touch a bit ¨C I feel no pulse whatsoever. It does not breath, either... It must be dead if it does not have that.


    A shuddering runs through the massive body in front of me. It is not dead... It is very much alive, actually. What kind of monster lives without a pulse, without having to breath?


    I must kill it ¨C now. If I wait any longer, it might awake.


    I take my hand off, grab the knife with both hands, and prepare to stab it right into the throat, as deeply as possible. I enhance this swing with everything I have, putting all my magic coefficient into it ¨C therefore releasing self-applied heating and lightening. The cold instantly starts claiming my body, and I feel heavy. In favour of this one crucial strike, I ignore all of it.


    ¡°DIE!¡± To fast for my eyes, the dagger gets ripped out of my hands, and embeds deep into the Owlbear''s throat. A triumphant expression forms on my face.


    Then, a primal roar of pain shreds through the night. I freeze, unable to move a single muscle. To my shock, the gigantous body starts moving, and a pair of orange eyes with massive, pitch-black pupils stares at me in hatred. As if it had waited for this very moment, the moon purges the darkness with its silvery rays.


    Slowly, the Owlbear rises to full size, twice as big as I am. Thick, yellow fluid flows down the handle of the knife, and drips onto the ground right before my feet.


    Run. I need to run. I need to run, or I am dead. I desperately try to send those signals to my legs, but they continue to be frozen. The Owlbear opens its beak ¨C and releases a piercing scream so loud it bursts my ears. I see it lash out for a blow, its amber claws shining in the moonlight. Finally, my legs free, and I stumble backwards. The place where I just now was gets torn to shreds. Fighting to get onto my feet, I crawl around and run. Fear runs through my veins, and gives me power I did not now I had. I get tunnel vision, focused on only one goal ¨C escape. In a last-ditch effort, I reapply my self-lightening, and sprint. I hear more screams, and a rumbling as the monster gives chase.


    The mayor is not a fool. If he can not solve a problem, how did I think I could? Was it hubris?


    I run as fast as I can, but the steps of the pursuers do not get quieter. How is this massive thing so fast?


    Can I even get away from it? Am I fast enough? A staccato of my footsteps and the beasts stomps is everything I can hear now, expect for an occasional scream that seems to rip through the fabric of my mind.


    In opposition to me, the beast never seems to tire. My legs started burning after two minutes of running, and now, after what felt like an eternity, they are just seething pillars of fire. This heat seems only almost enough to stop the cold from whittling me down, however. In favour of the self-lightening, I ditched heating entirely. In face of the fact that the pursuer never seemed to be more than a few meters behind, I thought freezing a bit is preferable over being torn to shreds.


    My lungs start failing, I am completely out of breath. After all, I have run for God-knows how long a time now. I never believed in the God and his Followers, but if they truly exist, I would not mind a little help from them. This bidding seems to stay unanswered, however ¨C the only thing I hear are my footsteps, the Owlbears footstomps, and all sort of plants being obliterated by a moving boulder.


    If I want something done, I need to do it myself. There is no use in waiting for ¡°Gods Miracle¡±. If I can not steady my breath soon, I will collapse.


    This now is risky ¨C but it is a risk I need to take. I lower the output of my lightening, just enough to allow for another meaningful spell, and concentrate. In thought, I create a small manipulation plane right in my gaping mouth. Everything passing it should be accelerated ¨C in this case, mostly air.


    Instantly, all of the air in my lungs gets sucked out. I try breathing in, it does not work. I revert the acceleration direction of the pane ¨C fresh air floods my lungs, stretching them out painfully wide.


    Yet, with this, I should be able to breath.


    I lower the used coefficient, and switch the direction around every two seconds. Finally, I seem to breath in a way that is sufficient - and requires lots of concentration. But, it keeps me running.


    I risk a peek over my shoulder. The Owlbear is roughly twenty meters behind me, and still as vigorous as at the beginning of the chase. The knife is still embedded in its throat. Moon is shedding light upon the scenery, the naked trees are barely obscuring its rays. How is that possible? This animal should have run out of stamina long ago, its body seems way to massive to be a long-distance runner. Also, does the knife in the throat not even bother it in the slightest? This injury would have caused anything I knew before to drop dead immediately.


    How longer will I be able to run? My most important resource, Magic, is not going to deplete. But my legs feel like they should have stopped running a few minutes ago. My skin feels terribly cold as well ¨C if I am not mistaken, I feel frozen sweat on it. Until now, I was able to avoid any obstacle in the forest rather fine, but now I have to dedicate my concentration to changing the direction of the air flow regularly, it becomes hard watching for obstacles..


    Ten, maybe fifteen minutes. If I run any longer, I feel I will collapse. The Owlbear seems to sense my incoming demise, and screeches excitedly. How can I get it off my tail in fifteen minutes? I can not hide on trees, the Owlbear would just run them over ¨C it proved capable of that. If I would get a decent lead, I could try to hide. I do not know how good the beasts tracking capabilities are, but it would be worth a shot.


    There is no way I could fight it. The strongest attack I could think of proved utterly ineffective.


    Five minutes. I see the edge of my vision turning black.


    I run ¨C and in front of me, a giant ravine splits the ground. This is it ¨C the end.


    No, not the end. Its the chance. The ravine seems deep, but it is only around fifteen meters wide. It stretches far in both directions to my left and right. I prepare for a giant leap, and just as my feet hit the edge of the cliff, I jump.


    I sail through the air. Then, I dive face-first into the snow on the other side. My skin is too cold to make proper notice of it, and I get up. On the other side, the Owlbear rages and screams. I shudder.


    I have to run further, and hide. This is my chance ¨C if I miss it, I am dead.


    I sprint further into the forest. Shortly after loosing sight of the ravine and my pursuer, I climb up a tree. It has a considerably large spot in its crown where the branches seem to form a little cave.


    Without second thought, I curl into a tiny ball, get rid of lightening and breathing aid, and apply a good chunk of my coefficient as heating.


    What a monstrosity have I challenged here...


    My consciousness fades into slumber.

 10 Years, Forest. Forging Plans.

    10 Years, Forest. Forging Plans.


    I wake up. Sun rays fall through snow-covered branches, and leave a pattern on my skin. I get up, and find myself on top of a tree.


    Right, I remember. I sought shelter here yesterday ¨C after running from the owlbear. All this anticipation I had before ¨C of myself killing the beast, returning to the village, making things alright ¨C feels ironic afterwards. To think I was planning to take on this monstrosity with Brian and Ione... They would have been torn to shreds. I can run, thanks to my self-lightening. With that, I can probably run twice as fast as anyone in the Village. And yet, the beast kept pace with me. There is no chance anyone but me could have escaped from that for even a few seconds.


    Now that I am awake, I realise that my body hurts, and my whole skin feels like someone is pricking me with needles. An inspection of my hand confirms my expectations: my fingers are red, and a bit swollen. The forearm does not look much better. I lift my leg to get a better view on my foot, and immediately wish I had not.


    The toes are coloured in a dark blue hue, and the skin is peeling off. The sole is a mess, the callus which formed through years of walking bare foot is flaking off, revealing open, painful sores. A jolt of distressing pain surges through my body as I stroke the right sole. At least I am still able to sense pain. From what my parents taught me, I should be concerned otherwise. This concern sets in once I come to the front of the left, to my toes, and start feeling nothing. This particular part seems especially dark, and gives of an eerie feeling.


    I decide to not worry about it as good as I can, since I can not really do anything to treat it anyway. Still, I should be very, very careful with stopping my self-heating.


    My shins are full of scratches that look very recent. I must have cut myself on branches and shrubbery. How did I not feel that while running? Maybe I was focused on different things. My robe is torn to shreds down there, as well.


    I shudder. I made the mistake of neglecting the cold too long during the chase yesterday. I had to, or else I would have been caught by the owlbear. Still, it took its toll on my body. The pain is distracting, and also not really fading over time.


    I sigh quietly. I need to live with it ¨C and learn from this for the next time I encounter the owlbear. Still, thinking back of my plans only a week ago... I would have never thought things would go downhill like this. Back then, I would have pictured myself talking to Brian and Ione about magic, or sitting at home with my mother, and my father. The menace would be eradicated, and we would be happy.


    In a sense, maybe it is a good thing that the preparations for the fight did not go as planned, that Brian took himself out of commission before the owlbear could.


    It is still my fault. Ione acted right. We should have went to their father with this problem. If I had done that, none of all this would have happened. If only...


    I hit myself. This can not be starting again. Looking back at things will not solve anything. I need to devise a plan. Brute force did not work at all against this colossus. I stabbed it in the throat. It did not even budge, and despite this gave furious chase at neck-breaking speeds, without showing any signs of exhaustion. I got close enough to touch its neck yesterday, and found it had no pulse, no body temperature, and did not breathe. Does it even have a vital weak point? If it does, it definitely is not the neck. Strange yellow liquid gushed out of the wound, not resembling blood as I know it.


    Maybe I should accept the fact that there is no way for me to kill this thing. At least not until I learn more about it. I can hardly do a field study on it, though.


    Thinking about it, killing it is not my primary goal. I simply want to keep it away from the village. Or, keep it away from Brian, Ione and my Mother. I do not think I could convince them to leave the village, so I have to keep the owlbear away from them.


    If I leave it alone now, would it return to the village on its own? It is possible that this is not the case. Maybe it will wreak havoc in this forest, and eventually emerge somewhere else, and end up terrorizing people over there ¨C I do not particularly care. Maybe this would solve this problem, and I could return to the village now.


    ¡°You know that is not the case. You can never return to your home, not even should you bring the head of this beast in your hands. The pain of loosing loved ones ¨C it sits too deep.¡±


    Why does this voice always say the words that hurt the most? I raise my hand, form a fist, but stop.


    All things considered, the voice may be right. It is still painful to hear it, and hurts on a different level than my aching body.


    ¡°Even if they would accept you again, what IF the owlbear returns? What would you do when it ravages the village? Run, like you did before? Could you really live with that?¡±


    I lower my hand. ¡°No. I would not want that.¡±


    ¡°Right. You know what you have to do. Get to work, now.¡±


    Sitting here idly will not help. I double-check my magic: A decent amount of cold precaution, and the rest of my power put into self-lightening. I am glad I do not need the breathing aid like yesterday any more ¨C it was not a pleasant experience at all, as my body was not able to control my breath, but rather something else, foreign did. I know of course that it was due to my own doing, and I could have stopped it at any time, but that knowledge did not help at all soothing my lungs as they felt on the verge of bursting.


    I jump down the tree, and land in the snow beneath it. My feet hurt fiendishly on impact, and it takes me a lot of composure to not immediately slump down, or release a scream of pain. Still, a silent grunt escapes my mouth.


    ¡°Ughhhhh...¡±


    Alright. This is what I have to live with now. I take a step, which only sends a new surge of pain through my body.


    I envy Brian and Ione for their nice, fur-lined boots. Had I worn them while running, my soles would be in a considerably better shape.


    I crave water, and I need food. Those are my primary goals, if I do not fancy collapsing out here soon. I did not eat or drink anything since I left the Doctors house, and that is already a day ago. Hunger and thirst was not a problem when I got chased yesterday, I had slightly more urgent things at hand. But right now, I can at least do something against the first of those two.


    I kneel down, and scoop up a layer of snow with my hands. My warming protects against the cold decently well, so I wont have to fear cooling out from eating snow. Therefore, I take a good bite.


    It tastes bland as a rock, but also has something refreshing to it. All the heat from my self-warming can get into my head from time to time, and eating snow is a good way of cooling down a bit.


    My fingers hurt when I grab another layer of snow after gobbling down the first one. Compared to how my feet feel, it is nothing, so I try to ignore it.


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    The snow is fresh, it must have snowed while I slept. I reach down for a third portion, and then a forth, and a fifth. Finally, I feel like I have eaten something, and my thirst is gone.


    Now, it is time to think. My thoughts seem to be clearer than they were before, and I do not want to waste this opportunity. I sit down legs crossed. To achieve what I want, I have to keep the owlbear away from the village. Therefore, leading it even further away from there would be a good idea. The further we are from the village, the narrower the chances of this beast finding the way back, should it search for it.


    This would be the ideal solution for now ¨C if it were not for a problem. I can not run in this shape. Maybe I can power through the pain somehow, and outrun this beast for a few minutes. However, to run for longer distances again, I would likely have to cancel my heating. I could be as determined to run as the sun is to rise and shine every morning, but if my feet fall off, it would mean nothing.


    Adding to this fact, this location has a very important advantage to me. Without the ravine, I would have not been able to escape my predator, and if I would challenge the owlbear for a race again, I would be dependent on a similar opportunity.


    No, I can not leave this place with the owlbear behind me, at least not in my current condition.


    I need to fight it. There is not really an other option. If I just leave it alone, it could wander off who knows where ¨C assuming it did not already leave, that is. If that is the case, I have no chance anyway. I could, probably, follow its tracks. They are not easily concealable, after all. In that case, however, I would have the same problem as if I would try to lure it even further away from the village.


    How could I possibly hurt the owlbear? The knife proved ineffective, and even if it would work, I lost it, it may either still be lodged in the owlbears throat, or fell out somewhere, in both cases there are little chances for me to recover it.


    I could try to blind it, rob it of its senses somehow. If I managed to do that, my options would vastly expand. Maybe I could use wind to create a little, sight-obscuring snowstorm?


    That is not really realistic, given the amount of magic power that I have. Even if I was able to use it for effectively blinding the foe, there would not be much power left for any offensive actions. Then, what about attacking the eyes directly? I could try to launch pebbles at them, and once I managed to destroy them, it would only be a matter of time until I find a way to kill it when it is disoriented.


    Yet, if I use up power to accelerate stones, I do not think I would have enough left to run fast enough at the same time. Additionally, aiming and running could be difficult. If only there was a way to get a few clean shots in every few seconds, while still being relatively out of danger...


    I think back to a technique I only ever attempted when I first experimented with self-lightening. The owlbear is capable of uprooting trees, at least the kind that grows around here. I have seen it a few times when searching for tracks, and also witnessed it during the chase yesterday. Still, it can not just run them over and continue at full speed. If I stay in the trees, and jump from trunk to trunk when the one I am currently on gets attacked, I could get a few quick shots in ¨C hopefully, at least.


    How useful it would be to have a higher coefficient.... After witnessing what Brian was able to do, I think I would be able to crush the owlbear, if I had that power. Is it really fair, that there is such a discrepancy in people, from what they are able to do? Not only that, but also in what families they are born into? Brian and Ione had both high coefficients, and a wealthy family. I, on the other hand...


    I need to stop. How can I even think that? They did not chose those things, or took them from me by possessing them. It is just the way this world works. After all, I just need to make the best out of this situation.


    Alright. I get up, ignoring the protests of my legs, as good as I can at least. They still hurt as much as at the beginning, but I feel like I have at least accustomed to it marginally. If I want to bombard the owlbear with pebbles, I am going to need some. The snow is quickly pushed aside, and I start seeking and gathering appropriately-sized specimen: A bit larger than my fingernail, but not too small that it lacks power, and also not too large so I can still conveniently shoot it.


    My hands are hurting a lot from digging through the cold dirt, so I grab a stick to loosen it before, and then pick the harvests afterwards. Like that, I manage to gather around thirty good pebbles in what feels like an hour, which I store in the pouch hanging around my waist. My hands are dirty, so I wash them with a bit of snow, and eat another handful of it.


    Now, the only thing left seems to be to go look for tracks. The sooner I finish this, the better. I have serious doubts that I will be able to kill with just a few pebbles, but for the time being, I have no better idea. I climb up the closest tree, and try to move by jumping from tree to tree, grabbing branches and hanging from them. My arms and the branches are easily able to carry my alleviated weight, and I am able to jump quite far if I press my feet against the bark. Of course, it hurts using my feet and hands like this, but right now, what does not?


    I arrive at the ravine. Without having to search for long, I find the spot where I jumped over it, easily distinguishable since on the other side everything is devastated. Getting here took me longer than just running, but speed could come with a bit more practice, and the main reason for staying in the tree tops is avoiding what is on the ground, not moving faster, after all. I let myself fall down from the tree I was hanging onto, and land on the ground, supporting my legs with my arms.


    Still, it hurts.


    I distance myself good ten meters away from the ravine, take charge, and finally jump over it. The jump is a bit harder than yesterday, as I am using less energy on lightening, and also am more injured. It is not a problem, though, as I pass the distance still without complications.


    The owlbear seems to have raged on a bit after I escaped, as there are concentrated marks of destruction. The edge of the ravine is solid rock covered by a bit of snow and dirt, and I see claw marks on it. How in hell did it manage to carve the stone? Are its claws that durable and sharp?


    It was the right decision to run from it, no doubt. After analysing the site, I come to the conclusion that the owlbear is not longer here. A second fact fills me with dread. My worst fear came true: A second trail of destruction leaves this place, headed in about the direction of the other trail. This means that the owlbear is headed roughly in the same direction it came from: the village.


    My heart starts to beat faster, and I get up the trees again. Carefully, I follow the second trail. I swing myself from tree to tree, my heart still pumping and my muscles full of tension. After a short while, I calm down a bit. The trail here is way less violent than the one left by our chase yesterday. It reminds me more of the trails I saw back in the forest around the village, and on the sides of it, I also spot two mutilated animal carrions, a squirrel and a boar. This means that it is moving way slower than before, and also hunting while doing so. If that is the case, I do not have to worry about it rushing to the Village, and it should take way longer for it to arrive there.


    Still, I should follow it at a steady pace, before it is too late.


    With time, I learn to ignore my pain better, and I pick up in pace. Every few minutes I find another shredded carcass, and there are no signs of the owlbear having picked up its pace. After about and hour and a half of swinging around, I notice a squirrel, digging in the ground. I decide to make a short rest, since my arms feel like they could become sore any moment now.


    The squirrel probably wants to dig up something it buried in the summer. Watching it, I feel my own stomach rumble, snow does not seem to do a very good job keeping one satiated for an extended period of time. I open my pouch, and take out a pebble. I should be able to hit at this distance, after all I spent a considerable amount of time doing target practice with accelerated stones back in the village. I sit down on a branch that looks sturdy enough to support my weight, and cancel self-lightening. My body instantly feels heavy, but since I am prepared for that, there is no danger of me falling of the tree.


    The squirrel seems to be done digging, and pulled out a big acorn. It starts nibbling on it, and I throw the stone, accelerating its movement in mind using all the coefficient that got free. It shoots through the air, corrects its course a little bit mid-air, and finally enters the squirrels head, only to leave it on the opposite site. Well, that was to be expected.


    I reapply the lightening, and jump down, again supporting my weight with both arms and legs. The shot left a splatter of blood behind the squirrel, and I see the big hole in its forehead. I pick the body up, and climb up the nearest tree again.


    However, a new challenge presents itself: How am I going to eat this? Previously, I had my knife to skin small game, and could cut it up into pieces that were easily cooked on a small stone. However, neither do I have my knife, nor do I have a suitable stone for cooking. Should I just heat it as a whole, and try eating it with the fur still on? That sounds unpleasant, and potentially unhealthy. I would rather refrain from that.


    Maybe I can prepare it with magic, apart from just grilling it? I think about how a knife works. It forces itself in between a thing, and pushes that thing apart. Apparently, things do not hold together very well when opposing forces play tug of war with a very small portion of it. It is the same concept of applying a lot of force to a small amount of material, such is that small pebbles fly faster then bigger ones when I put in the same coefficient and time, and that small water droplets immediately evaporate while pots of water take a long time to cook when I heat it.


    If I apply this knowledge to this problem, it would be possible... I make a bit of coefficient free from my lightening, and try to envision a plane going right through the squirrels neck. I can not use this destroyed head anyway, so I might as well get rid of it. Then, I apply movement to both sides of the plane, but in opposite directions.


    ¡°Shhhrhhtaith...¡± A disgusting tearing sounds, and the squirrels head falls off and down the tree as if lobbed of with a cleaver. That worked... surprisingly well. Sadly, I can only use I on dead animals, since I can not apply movement to living ones. I also have to be careful, in theory, I could use this to cut off my own hand as well.


    Now, I just have to prepare the squirrel with this technique. I skin it patch by patch, since the corpse has no perfectly flat side. What falls off is just discarded down the tree, I have no real use for it. Then, I dice it, spreading the front side of my robe over my legs, using that as surface to store everything. I discard the guts as well, and everything that I cant identify as plain meat. Now, all that is left is to fry it.


    Sadly, I have no proper surface for that, the tree bark is not very even, and I do not want the meat to fall off accidentality. I think I will just use no surface at all.


    I completely shut of my self-lightening. I do not really need all that coefficient, but I have a hard time concentrating on three separate spells, four could be too hard. For what I am planning, I need two spells maintained at the same time.


    In a similar fashion to my self-lightening, I let a piece of meat levitate in the air, hovering at an arms distance. Then, I use heat manipulation to fry it good. The meat immediately starts to sizzle, and over the course of half a minute, turns brown-greyish and then suddenly black. I cease the heating.


    Dammit, I overdid it. This was a little bit too much heat. I contemplate whether or not to eat this still, decide in favour of it, and stick it into my mouth. As expected, it tastes a bit burned, but apart from that and being a bit bland, it is not bad. Most importantly: It is something of substance, not snow.


    I make another one.


    Then, another one.


    Another...


    Finally, I am done. I clean my robe of tidbits left on it, and reapply my self-lightening.


    Then, it is time to continue.

 10 Years, Forest. Pursuit.

    10 Years, Forest. Pursuit.


    It is getting darker. I have swung around in the treetops for what feels like three or four hours now, but the trail left by the owlbear still has no sign of ending. It has been a while since I ate the squirrel, but doing so reenergized me, and gave me enough power to push on despite my aching hands and body. The sun seems to go down in one or two hours, and I would prefer having caught up to the owlbear by then. I like to think that it stopped at daybreak, and did not continue at daytime. Right now, I think this is more likely, given it was not particularly quick on its way, and took its time to hunt while travelling.


    It grew increasingly frosty over time. My self-heating is still doing a good job at offsetting it, but I had to increase output two times now for it to keep warming sufficiently. Luckily, the lightening needed for climbing in the trees is not nearly as much as for running extremely fast, and I can afford taking a bit of it away. It puts a bit more strain on my already tired arms, but especially during the chase yesterday, I had to learn to ignore this feeling. Also, since I have no immediate time pressure, I can afford making short breaks to catch breath.


    I also got a hang on how to swing around in the trees more proficiently, and now I am faster than I was at the beginning. It started snowing, and the forest turned quite beautiful as a result, desolate and cold, but pure. The only thing disturbing that sight is the devastation at my feet, and the occasional bloodbath.


    The line of destruction goes very straight, showing that the owlbear has a clear goal in mind. This reaffirmed my determination to catch up on it in time, since I can only imagine one goal this beast could be having at this moment, in this direction.


    Apart from the occasional mutilated cadaver at my feet, swinging around is quite monotonous. I focus more on the treetops in front of me, and look down only occasionally. The line is extremely straight, so there is no real need for me to look where it is going all the time. At first, I looked down every swing, but over time, that became once every twenty seconds, once every minute, and finally I arrived at a point where I look down every five minutes, only to see the exact same path of destruction directly underneath me.


    Except that right now, it is not there.


    My heart picks up pace, and I stop swinging around, hanging to the next branch. Where did the trail go?


    I look behind me. The sight is bad with all that snow, and I can not see the trail behind me. Did the owlbear suddenly change direction?


    No, why would it. There is one more explanation for this. The trail is not here, because it ended since the last time I looked. Could this here be my destination? I carefully jump from treetop to treetop, this time in the opposite direction. For a painful minute, I spot nothing. Then, I arrive at a huge pile of snow, lying in the middle of a field of fiendish destruction. Footprints are all around it, half-covered by snow, but I easily identify them as the ones that I saw at the opposite side of the ravine, and all the way on this track. In a medium radius, every tree is uprooted in a way it acts as sort of a barrier, again solidifying the fact: The owlbear is here.


    My heart beats fast in my chest, I need to calm down a bit to be able to think rationally. I sit down on a nearby branch, high up, a long distance from the ground.


    There it is. No doubt about it. What else could cause this much destruction, what else could be in a pile of snow this big?


    It should be sleeping now. Even then, it seems to radiate an aura of fear, even affecting me, as my body appears colder and heavier than before.


    I need to engage this beast. The sun is still up and shining, although barely and at a very low angle. I need to get the advantage of surprise, if anything. But, where is the head in this pile of snow? Even more, the eyes? I have to just fire in blindly, I guess. It likely will not do any damage, but perhaps the stone will wake it up, confused as to where the shot came from?


    Or, would it be better to just wait, to get a clean shot in the eye when the owlbear cleaned itself from the snow, but is not yet aware of me? But how long will it take for it to wake up?


    I do not feel like waiting. My heart is racing, my muscles are full of tension, and my whole body is shivering from stress and anticipation. I loosen the string around my pouch, making it easy to grab a pebble out of it, and ready one of my remaining projectiles. I need power, so I lower the coefficient used on self-heating, but all while trying to distribute it in a way that my extremities are warmed better than my torso.


    I also take a good chunk from my self-lightening, as much as I feel will still allow me to swing through the treetops with some effort. Now, I got about fifteen to twenty percent coefficient left to accelerate the pebbles. That should, in theory, be more than enough to lodge them into someone''s eye.


    I inhale deeply, and exhale very slowly in order to calm down a bit. It works kind of, so I repeat that for a few times, before going into throwing position. This one shot, it could determine the outcome of the approaching battle. Alright...


    ¡°This is the moment, your moment of revenge... but you will blunder it, wont you?¡±


    I was ready to throw, I was so ready. The cold voice brought me out of concept, broke my concentration and sowed doubt in my mind.


    ¡°Do you really think it is that easy? You throw pebbles at a fortress, expecting its walls to crumble as a result?¡±


    I wipe of the snow covering my eyelashes and the rest of my face with the left hand, while still having the right in throwing position. ¡°Of course I know its not that easy... But I have to do something.¡± I whisper that as loud as I dare, careful not to wake up the sleeping beast in front of me.


    ¡°Even though you know its worthless, you still try? What happened to the rationally thinking Reiland? I am disappointed...¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± I have had it with this voice. If I want to advance, I need to go my way, no matter what it says. I hurl the pebble right into the snow pile, doing my best to accelerate it, concentrating as hard as I possibly can on this task in order to blur out everything else, every doubtful notion of thought.


    ¡°CRAck...!¡± A loud sounds echoes through the forest. The pebble went right into the snow pile, and in there, released this inorganic sound, of two rocks clashing together. A patch of snow falls off, revealing blank, cold and grey stone underneath.


    What? Why is there a stone? Was that not...


    In an instant, a loud, familiar rumbling starts roaring right behind me. In daze, I grab the tree I am sitting on as tight as I can, and immediately afterwards, a shock runs through the tree, which almost shakes me off, and a piercing scream almost shatters my eardrums.


    My vision jumps to the base of the tree, and I see a shadowy, huge figure seemingly hug the trunk. The trunk itself starts to tilt, and fall over. I somehow manage to release my grip, and using the branch I am sitting on as a surface, I propel myself into the direction of the nearest tree.


    I do not reach the lowest branch, but manage to cling onto the bark. I climb upwards as quickly as I can, in a similar fashion as I have seen squirrels do, and reach the branch that gives me better hold and stability. The tree I was on just now falls over completely, and under horrible cracking whirls up thick clouds of snow. The owlbear charges right at me, breaching through the falling snow and approaching ridiculously fast.


    This time, I am more prepared, so I jump do the next tree right before the impact of the several-ton colossus. The tree base splinters in the crash, but I am already clinging to the next tree. The owlbear opens its beak for another piercing howl, and I can clearly see a crusted, yellow spot at its throat. The knife is no longer lodged in there, it probably fell out somewhere. I reach into my pouch, up so far this was a confirmation that my tactic is working, and so I pull out another pebble.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    The surprise attack by the owlbear threw me off a little, though. I could have sworn that boulder covered in snow was the owlbear, it had the exactly same proportions. Also, from where did the real one come? Did it hide nearby? Could it be that the pile of snow was nothing but a trap? Can this beast really think that far?


    I hope that all this was a coincidence, and not a trap laid by the owlbear. If the latter was the case, I would have severely underestimated its intelligence so far. A raging brute is bad enough, but a raging brute that is also intelligent is truly terrifying. I do not like it, but I feel this was more than a pure coincident.


    The owlbear charges at me again, and again, I switch trees in the last second. The beast is visibly raging, and all but overjoyed over my little evasion shenanigans. Again, it charges me, and again, I evade. Like this, I am able to avoid it very well, and since I am relatively safe, I also start loosing my fear. Now, I am just waiting for the perfect chance to strike, ideally right after it crashed into a tree, and is charging me, so it can not possibly evade ¨C after all, I do not see this colossus stopping so fast once it started moving.


    Now, now is the chance. The owlbear charges at me, and I switch to the nearest available tree. The next tree bursts, and the landscape looks like after a heavy storm, the kind that leaves no stone unturned and sends trees flying. Again, the piercing scream...


    I go into throwing position, and wait for the owlbear to turn around. It rushes at me again, and I throw.


    ¡°swoshhh...¡±


    The stone flies through the falling snow, and I try to adjust its trajectory as good as I can. With a bone-freezing sound, it embeds in the owlbear''s left eye.


    A howl erupts from the wounded beast, unlike anything I have ever heard before. It seems like all the screams before were just training practice for this one, primordial scream of pain, and hearing it induces me likewise with a feeling and dread and victory. The owlbear stumbles over its own feet, flips over, and continues its charge at the tree, half rolling, half sliding. It crashes into the tree trunk, but lost so much energy that the tree is not even in danger of falling.


    In a sudden urge, I scream as well, as loud as I can to declare my triumph. ¡°RAHHHHHHHH!!!¡±


    It worked. In my mind, I forged a plan, followed it, and came to my goal. Incredible...


    The owlbear is squirming down on the ground, and I jump over to the next tree, filled with new vigor. I reach into the pouch on my waist, and pull out stone after stone, and throw them after the owlbear, some hitting the back, some the limbs, some the head, every one of them surely strong enough to kill a man, and each answered with another painful cry. From the looks of it, they pierced its skin, and stuck in right under, with yellow, pus-like fluid dripping from the wounds.


    I throw stone after stone, barely aiming anymore, in a certainty of victory, and as rapid as I can. My pouch ran empty before I could blink, and I hang with one arm on a branch, huffing and puffing. The owlbear is whimpering in pain, which fills me with triumph. It is not dead yet, but with this injuries, it perhaps is only a matter of time...


    ¡°SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAACHHAHHCHH!¡± A dreadful scream hails from the cowered creature, and changes my mind. As soon as the barrage of pebbles stopped, something changed with the owlbear. This is not a scream of defeat or grief, but it sounds more like...


    A scream of pure, primal rage.


    The owlbear gets up in an instant, and rushes at me faster than I can react, my mind still numbed in victory. Its whole face and right side of the body, the side that received all the shots, is covered by yellow blood, and I think I can see bone shimmering through a wound at the skull. The right eye is completely destroyed, and gives an impression of decay and death in its mangled state. Time seems to slow down, but only giving me more time to squirm in the feeling of impending doom, not more time to properly react to what is coming.


    As the owlbear crashes into the tree, faster and more impactful than seemingly ever before, a shock wave runs through my whole body, and clears me from this thought paralysis. The tree is sent flying for a few meters, and I try jumping off, but get entangled in the twigs, sending me rolling over the ground nauseatingly fast, where I finally come to an halt ¨C abruptly, as I crash into a tree trunk of one of the still standing trees, feeling and hearing something in my chest crack.


    A jolt of pain surges through my body, and the involuntary scream of agony makes it only worse.


    Still, If I want to live, I have to soldier through, and I start climbing the tree I rolled against, looking over my shoulder to check on the owlbear.


    I have only climbed up halfway to the next branch when I see it charging at me again, its screams full of hatred mixing with my whimpering in pain, that I can not stop no matter how hard I try. The edges of my vision start to darken, but I can not fail now, not if my life, and that anyone I care for, means anything to me.


    I jump right before the owlbear crashes into the tree, and only barely sail over its head. I somehow manage to land on my feet, but the jump was not nearly enough to reach the nearest tree. Not only was it way too far, but my self-lightening is also not what it once was, my body feels cold and heavy in comparison to only three minutes ago, at the start of the fight.


    I redistribute the coefficient I used for shooting stones both to heating and lightening in equal rates, but that only gives me slight betterment. I do all this while sprinting to the nearest tree, and when in reach, I jump onto it, climbing upwards immediately.


    My feet and hands hurt like hell, but it is nothing in comparison to my chest. Breathing hurts more than ever before, making it hard to concentrate properly.


    This time, I manage to reach the branches, but the owlbear is already charging again, so I have to jump to the nearest tree. I aimed for the lower branches, but actually fell a bit lower, still far enough to climb to the nearest branch without problems before having to switch trees. I regained the advantages ground of the treetops, but something feels off.


    It is not only that I feel heavier and colder, I actually am. The reason why my magic is failing... am I loosing concentration? No, I could even be sleeping once I established a spell, that is not it. Then...


    Magic exhaustion. This has to be the reason. I never experienced it, but this is the only explanation. There is not enough magic here, so my spells are loosing effectiveness.


    The owlbear comes charging again, more furious than last time. Its rushes are growing increasingly fast, intense and frequent at an alarming rate, leaving me less and less time to think and react.


    I barely manage to jump off before impact, and since I aimed for a way higher branch this time and the tree is not that far away, I reach it with only slight problems.


    Magic exhaustion is a localised, so to circumvent it, I need to get away from here. A quick glance over the surroundings reveals that we barely moved from the boulder, and have been in a small territory the whole time. I look what tree in reach is the farthest from the boulder, and mark that as my next target. I jump off in time, and have already my next target in mind.


    I watch the owlbear recover from the impact with the tree in an instant, shrugging it off like I would a fly on my skin. The tree, like the ones before, is absolutely destroyed. Only a few seconds after the last impact, the owlbear is charging again, stomping everything in its way aside, not even bothered by a small rock in front of it, which it simply kicks aside.


    I jump again, and so, I manage to distance myself further and further from the artificial clearing. The owlbear shows no signs of changing its tactics. I wonder who of us is more pain, who is more injured. Except for the eye, every wound on the owlbear seems only superficial, while I am certain I have cracked at least two ribs. Breathing is agonizing, but I can hardly stop it, can I now. If I gave in to the pain, everything would have been in vain. The owlbear did not do so either, and instead of getting weaker like I do, it only seems to get stronger.


    Maybe I underestimated the scale of this monster, not once, but twice and thrice. It could start breathing fire now, and I would hardly be surprised.


    While most of the shock from the owlbear''s sudden attacks wore off, the pain and injuries did not. If I want to make it out alive, I need to retreat to the ravine. It may be my only hope now, but that also means I need to avoid the owlbear for several hours now.


    This prospect lets my sore arms scream in agony, but what choice do I have?


    The further I led the owlbear from the forest clearing, the more my strength returned, and my body was lighter and warmer, thanks to the recurring effects of self-lightening and heating.


    In between all the pain, a new feeling starts blossoming, very faint, but very welcome: Hope. If I survive this encounter, I avoided death not only once, but twice, and even permanently injured my enemy in the process. Who says it can not be done a third time?


    Having lost every sense of intelligence I once thought the owlbear to have, it always tries the same thing, rushing at the tree I am on, destroying it, and then repeating the process to the next tree. Its endurance and stamina is unfathomable, a normal being should have long dropped dead. How is it that indefatigable?


    For hours, all I sense is the jumping and crashing sounds, the screams of my pursuer, and my progressively worsening exhaustion and pain. Yet, the owlbear seems more and more desperate, which I think means that I am close to my goal.


    Finally, I see the saving grace, the ravine, gaping in the distance. While the owlbear turns more and more furious, feelings of joy grow in me, almost, but only almost, overshadowing the fear of collapsing at any given moment. In an last ditch effort, I jump over the ravine, battered as I am, to leave behind an at least equally battered, but deadly and unyielding, raging and screaming pursuer.


    I continue to jump through the treetops, unwilling to trust the ground any more, and finally fall asleep, securely lying in some conveniently convoluting branches.

 10 Years, Forest. Showdown.

    10 Years, Forest. Showdown.


    I abruptly awake as I crash onto the ground , forcing the air out of my lungs. Coughing and gaping for fresh air, I confusedly try to assess the situation. I am lying on my back in a layer of snow, and see trees rising into the sky everywhere.


    I fell off the tree while sleeping. I feel tired and exhausted, I probably slept for only a few hours. The sun has still not risen, but the moon is shedding its silver light all over the place, making eyesight not a problem. It has stopped snowing, and the night is clear.


    My body is killing me. I feel like someone stomped onto my chest, someone who weighed considerably more than I do. I need to take a look at all my injuries, to assess in how they will affect me and my further plans. But first, I climb back onto the tree, back into safety. I do not feel comfortable on the ground any more, I have to stay at least seven meters up, far from everything down there that could hurt me.


    At the top, I take off my clothes, the robe and the shirt and the pants beneath it, to get a better look onto my body. I try breathing as shallowly as possible, as one particular spot hurts like hell when the linen of the shirt glides over it. Bruises are covering my chest, but are especially dense around the area that is hurting the most. I try touching this spot to feel if anything is actually loose.


    Ughhh... No.


    So, no touching. I wish I had the expertise of the doctor in the village, but as I am now, I can not make a better guess than ¡°A few ribs are cracked or broken, and the pain will not stop anytime soon.¡± I thought the same yesterday already, and I come to the same conclusion now as I did before: As long as I am still able to cast magic and bring myself to do what is necessary, I will continue. This mindset does not lessen the pain, but the prospect of setting everything on one card to get this situation dealt with soon helps enduring it greatly. I can still whine and pity myself all I want after this.


    The injuries on my hand and feet have evolved in a disturbing way: My hands have turned bright red, and large blisters are covering the top of my fingers. They are filled with a clear fluid, as I learn when I accidentality pop one while inspecting my left hand. Luckily, my palms and the insides of my fingers are not that badly hurt, which allowed me to grab firmly onto branches yesterday and not release them in a pain reflex.


    My feet are another story. I feel them, every part of it, and I am glad about that fact. They do not hurt as much as I would expect them, but are still more than distressingly painful. The top and soles have turned greyish-white, and are sprinkled with the same blisters as my fingers, but only even larger. The dark blue hue of my toes has turned into a dark black, the part I have the least feeling in. It was the right call prioritising my own temperature over a bit of extra output for combat techniques. Seeing how the wounds only seem to worsen, I can imagine how they would look when exposed to more cold.


    I put my clothes back on, after taking a split second to pity their disastrous state: Wet, ragged and dirty. Dry clothes are a luxury I never thought to value so highly before. Wet clothes do not cool me out, my magic covers for that, but having them stick to my skin is giving my mood the last kick downwards.


    The sooner this is over with, the better. Yesterday, I ran into magic exhaustion for the first time. This is strange, since normally, my magic energy consumption is too low to ever deplete the surroundings. Even when joint with Ione and Brian, we never reached a point where it was noticeable. It honestly escaped my mind, and I noticed almost too late what phenomenon I was actually witnessing when the need arose. But how did this happen? Was the recovery inhibited due to some reason? That would be the first time I heard of such an effect.


    My coefficient did not rise randomly, either. What in the world...


    I hit my forehead with my palm. A sudden realization overcomes me, hits me like a rock, and it has tremendous implications. This would be the puzzle piece missing in the picture, giving me a good understanding of what actually happened.


    The owlbear is a magic user as well. How else could I, in retrospect, explain its terrific strength, inexhaustible stamina, and rock-like endurance? How else would such a creature, seemingly not even feeding on the prey it hunts, sustain itself?


    Not only does the owlbear have unnatural capabilities, but it also does not breath, has no pulse and no temperature. Magic must be the essence of it, keeping its body running, moving and thinking.


    What a majestic, yet pathetic creature: apex predator, unchallenged in every respect, but only due to foreign powers, and not their own. In a sense, we resemble each other. Without magic, I would only be a human, and it would not even be alive.


    Having found a bit of solace in understanding what I am facing better, I, for the first time, feel like I am facing a person, and not a wild beast.


    I reminisce about yesterday''s encounter again. When I was jumping around in the trees, and was right in the middle of the magic energy deprivation zone, I most likely was not only one affected by it. If we fought each other until the last bit of magic energy runs dry in the area, it would definitely have consequences for both of us. I would be standing, as a normal human boy, utterly defenseless. But the Owlbear... It would perish. Robbed of its own source of energy, it would stop moving like a starved bee.


    The plan is risky. It involves presenting myself in a vulnerable state, it involves so many unknown factors. But at the same time, I also feel like it is the plan with the highest chance of succeeding. I will trap the owlbear in a confined area, keep it from leaving by any means necessary, and do so as long as it takes for it to collapse. As if it was fate, we are at the perfect location for that: The ravine. If I trick it into getting down there, and keep it busy for long enough, it may just drain it from its resources.


    The owlbear will have protection mechanisms against that, most likely. It will shut down its energy consumption, like it seems to do when sleeping, when in danger of using up its last magic power. But, if it is going to do that, I will do whatever it takes to keep it active. Every last bit of magic it does not consume I will relentlessly use to shoot pebbles at it, which have proven capable of causing injury.


    A distant sound, so quiet I did not even fully realize it was there, has continued getting louder and louder. Rumbling through the forest, trees bursting, and screaching: Unlike last time, the owlbear seems to have decided to go after me instead of the village. It was furiously boiling with rage when I escaped its claws yesterday, so it probably will try to hunt me down with iron determination.


    Then, today will be the deciding battle. Whatever the outcome, I doubt that both of us will be alive at the end of it. Either the owlbear will die in the ravine, or it will kill me beforehand. Given the trend of my situation to deteriorate, even if I escape, my chances of defeating the foe will be abysmal.


    I jump down the tree, and eat a few hands full of snow. I am both thirsty and hungry, and this is the only thing I can do to stop that. After quenching my thirst, and clearing my mind to something that can only be described as ¡°almost half-conscious¡±, an improvement over before, I get back into the treetops, and scream as loud as I can, to get the owlbears attention.


    ¡°Come at me, piss-head!¡±


    The rumbling in the distance stops for a few seconds, but then it returns, and this time followed by an angry shriek. This got its attention alright. I swing from tree to tree, at the direction of the ravine. While previously the rumbling got quieter and louder at random, it now grows in volume, rapidly. Finally, I see the owlbear breaching through a tree in the distance.


    At the same time, it spots me as well, and stops for a few seconds to cry out a primordial scream of hatred. Like a creature from a nightmare, it is visibly mangled, but its functional eye locks onto me with steel-like precision. Then, it charges at me faster than I would have deemed possible. I am on guard, so I jump off in time, and cling safely onto the next tree.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Even so, I feel first signs, however slight, of my body turning cold and heavy, and that even faster than yesterday. I can not fathom how quickly the owlbear burns through the energy here, and while this power is frightening, it also reinforces that tiny glimpse of hope that my plan could work.


    I traverse the trees at speeds unknown to me before as well, not even waiting for the owlbear to take down the trees before switching, simply jumping off to the next as soon as I grab hold of a new one. Finally, I reach the ravine, and the owlbear, fearing to loose me the third time in a row to the same trick, desperately yelps and in a last effort, tries to charge at me again and again. However, escaping is not my intention ¨C not this time. Therefore, I continue swinging from tree to tree, but remain on one side of the cliff.


    Most of the trees the owlbear breaks remain on the ground, but some fall into the chasm, resulting in sounds of wood bursting on hard stone when they finish their fall around thirty meters deeper.


    Alright. Now, only one question, one part in my plan remains unclear: I need to lure the owlbear down there. If I jump down, will it follow me? I think that is not unlikely, given its furious state. That alone could injure it greatly, but if it will, it is also less likely that the owlbear will dare the jump. Furthermore, what about me? I can, in my lightened state, jump down a ten meter high tree without problems. But, what about here, with triple the depth? Even if it does not outright kill me, it would surely burden my cracked rib and aching feet.


    I could continue to forge plans, continue just evading over and over again, hoping for something to change in my favour, but a feeling in my gut tells me that is not going to happen. I have to seize the moment, if I want to emerge victorious. I steel myself for what is coming.


    The owlbear points its beak into the night sky and screams in frustration over my unwillingness to let it tear me to shreds properly. I realize how ridiculous my plan is, but also realize that this one time, I can not seem to be rational, and therefore run away, hide, and let this problem be someone else''s. I let a slight smile play around the edge of my mouth, as good as I can given the pain I am in, and as the owlbear focuses on me, and charges with relentless violent intent, I let go of the branch I hang from, from which I previously hung right over the chasm opening beneath me.


    I fall freely, slow at first. The tree I grabbed onto was destroyed only a split second after I released my grip, and its trunk falls next to me, but way faster, it was blown away by the force of the impact. The owlbear stares at me from the ledge, a spark of triumph seems to glimmer in its eye, finally it got me out of the trees. It strikes at me with its right paw, I see the strong moonlight reflect on its claws, shining in amber, it does not reach me by a good meter.


    As I fall, looking into the owlbears face quickly tilting downwards to track my movement, I can not come around noticing how we resemble each other, in a way that we are both giving our all to bring demise to our opponent. Our mutual hatred, for it killing my Father, for it dragging Brian into his condition, for me stabbing its throat and gauging its eye out, forms a bond of negative emotion between us, as strong as the the bonds of positive emotion I feel when thinking of my family and friends.


    I fall, faster and faster. Time seems to slow down, as my excitement accelerates my thoughts. I realize I did a miscalculation: The same principle is at work here as when I shoot a stone. Accelerate it for half a second, it flies fast. Accelerate it for two, it flies FAST, a big difference. If I continue accelerating like this, I will end up down there as a smear on the rock. I have to slow down or stop my fall now, when I am still relatively slow, or else I am dead.


    Immediately, I drop the self-heating. Cold starts creeping and seeping into the wounds on my feet and hands. I can treat frostbite later, I cannot treat death. I am going to need every last bit of energy I can get to avert this peril. Even then, with all my coefficient on self-lightening, it wont be enough to stop my fall.


    I apply acceleration to myself, not directed upwards, but directed at my front. I begin moving to the rough, stony wall in front of me, and try to grab a protruding rock at random.


    A jolt of pain runs through my arms as they scream in agony, and it feels like they are being pulled apart, and stretched unnaturally. My fall comes to an abrupt end, and I finally find solid grip against the wall. I feel wind trying to rip me off the wall as something enormous falls past me, screaming familiarly. I grin, only to have it wiped of my face the second later with my my chest bouncing against the stone and slamming it, driving a figurative hot needle into the broken rib.


    The first step of my plan succeeded. Tears of pain roll down my cheeks, not the first since lately.


    As if the world was expecting the sound of me getting blown apart on the rock floor, another half of the fall I already had down, and is now, that it did not get to hear it, compensating for that violation of nature, a heinous sounds of cracking bones and splattering meat caresses my ears.


    I look downwards at the same time as an eruption of sound seems to blow through my clothes like wind, stinging into my eardrums like a blade. The owlbear lies down there, with ghoulishly shattered hindlegs, and cries bitter screams. Broken bones are protruding from its equivalent of my shins, and the rest is yellow-grey goo permeated by splinters of the bones formerly giving structure its hindlegs.


    I answer its death cry with a definite scream of triumph. It is already dead, its still squirming body just does not know it yet. Now, there is only one way history can take its course: by me draining it of all its energy, and having it die miserably in a ditch for what it did to me.


    I shake off the freezing feeling in my extremities by shuddering and reapplying my self-heating, and start climbing down to the bottom. The wall is rough and has good climbing opportunities everywhere.


    I jump down the last three meters, roughly three of its body lengths away from the owlbear. The bottom of the ravine is very dim, only little of the moonlight bathing the surface reaches down here. Mosses seem to cover the stones, but apart from that, it is just barren rock, from what I can tell in that light.


    The owlbear, still releasing its never-ending, deafening scream, albeit visibly in agony, continues to lash out after me with its claws on the uninjured forelegs. It seemed to land in a way that the hindlegs took the damage from the fall, and left the rest battered, but not splattered. I am too far away for it to reach me, so it ultimately lashes out in vein.


    My body grows heavier and colder. The owlbear is still active, while my body seems to freeze away. I look in its eye, and notice a shining glimmering in there, almost bright enough to actually cast light on the outer world. Even though it may have shown signs of intelligence before, it now displays only beastly rage. If it had kept its smartness, I doubt we would stand at the same position as we do now.


    The rate at which this enemy of mine churns through the energy here is unprecedented. I watch it flailing so fast, its scream makes concentrating even harder than before, and I feel all my body''s weight more than ever.


    Yet, I stand my ground, still facing the owlbear, even though I feel like a freezing stone. Suddenly, the owlbear stops just flailing at me, but tries to drag itself using its forelegs to reach me, a sight that horrifies me. I take a step backward, and another, but the owlbear is still dragging itself faster than I can walk, and so comes closer and closer, and the closer it comes, the faster I feel all my spells losing effectiveness. Magic euphoria grows weaker and weaker, and only now I realize how much it did to lessen my pain and mend my mental condition. Having this soothing effect withdrawn, my body revolts, and screams after only some more magic.


    I try to pick up my pace of stumbling backwards, but overestimate the control I still have over my body, and fall onto my back. I barely manage to land in a way that I do not hit my head, but the fall still forces the air out of my lungs, leaving me struggling for breath.


    I gasp for air, which now, without the dulling effect of magic euphoria, is unbearable to to with my cracked rib, and under great efforts lift my head, only to see the owlbear dragging itself towards me.


    Is this how I will die, after all? I try to push myself backwards with my arms, but my body feels all too heavy. My body feels cold, no ¨C freezing.


    A weird mix of feelings overcomes me as the owlbear closes onto me, meter by meter. It is regret and sadness, pain, but also mixed with something else... What is it? Acceptance?


    My clouded mind does not seem to be able to make sense from it. I try to ponder over it in my last moments, as the owlbear comes closer and closer.


    Then, it stops. With a thump, it falls over, and comes to an halt. Is this... it? The glimmer in its eye has faded, and now been extinguished. I want to sigh in relief, but out comes only a grunt of pain. Finally, it is over...


    The remaining eye flashes up again, with a burning intensity, and sheds me in a bright, orange light. The owlbear revives, and drags itself to me in enormous speed. Yet, I see also changes in my body: It grows light, and warm. What is happening? Am I hallucinating? Euphoria, no ¨C magic euphoria wipes my mind clean, leaves me grinning. I lift of the ground, the upward acceleration overcomes the natural downward acceleration. My skin seems to burn, it is unspeakingly hot, but in my euphorious delirium, I do not mind. I levitate upwards, and so the owlbear, raging as it is down there, can not reach me. However, I now rise slower than before, and the burning feeling lessens, and worst of all, my euphoria weakens, too.


    The owlbear''s movements lose in ferociousness at the same rate my abnormal status normalizes itself.


    Then, I stop rising upwards, hover in the air for a moment, and then slowly, but getting faster, fall back down. The owlbear collapses a second, final time, and I fall directly down onto its corpse.


    My mind turns black when I land on its feathery back.

 10 Years, Forest. A Trophy.

    10 Years, Forest. A Trophy.


    I get waken up by sun rays tickling my face. Irritated, I slowly open my eyes, and see stone walls stretching upwards, leaving only a slit in the sky for the sun to fall through. It is in the right angle ¨C which should mean we are enclosing noon. The sun burns on my skin, but apart from that, it is something I had no chance to witness like this in a while, so I welcome it.


    I realize I am laying quite comfortably. It reminds me of the time I got to sleep in the village''s healer''s bed, but only a bit more uneven. I try feeling with my hands what I am laying on ¨C and with a sudden realization, leap from it, and take a fight-or-flight stance a few meters away from it:


    The owlbear is laying there, motionless.


    My chest did not take that sudden movement lightly, as well as my feet on the impact, and new to all this pain comes a burning on my whole skin. I observe the owlbear, but it does not move the slightest. Then, remembrance tells me what happened yesterday, just before I passed out. I triumph, but my body does not seem to accept the fact that it is over, and remains in unease and tension.


    Finally, after at least five minutes of just observing, my body dares to come closer, and inspect the laying corpse, in fact a corpse, up close. It lays there in a yellow puddle of sticky fluid, which feels somewhat like manure on my feet. It''s hind legs are gone, and a trail of the yellow pus leads to a heap of that stuff, with flesh-like texture. I remember the sound of it impacting on the ground. Back then, when still under the veil of an intense fight, it made me celebrate. Now, afterwards, it makes me want to vomit.


    All the older wounds the owlbear is littered by, stemming from the pebbles I shot, have crusted over, but apart from that do not look like they healed. The single eye in the owlbear''s head looks dead, as the glimmer it always had is now gone. The ground under the corpse is scratched, again showing what remarkable claws the owlbear had. Now, that the danger is over, my scientific spirit returned, and compels me to take a closer look at the owlbear''s paws. Close up, they really look more like hairy and somewhat broad clutches of an owl, but with talons that are remarkably large, and seeing what they were able to do, also remarkably sharp and durable.


    Now that I have seen that there is no danger left from the owlbear, a lot of tension and stress built up in the last days falls of my chest. I sigh up, relieved that this ordeal is over, and do not even mind my hurting chest. Then, I pity that I did not stay sleeping longer, the back was extremely comfy in comparison to the trees I slept in the days before. I contemplate whether or not to just lay back down again. I feel like I deserved it, and my whole aching body is also pleading me to do it.


    Yet, I can not. Not only am I injured, but I am also hungry, and thirsty. If I get down to sleep now, who knows in which state I will awaken? My magic seems to work properly again, the energy must have returned after the owlbear died. The euphoria, oh how I missed it yesterday, returned as well, making all those wounds more bearable.


    I take a closer look at my skin, wondering why it burns that much, and see all of it reddened and swollen. It reminds me of the time I accidentally poured hot water over my arm, but only on the whole body. I remember my body getting light and hot yesterday, and back then, I thought of it as an hallucination, but now, I think I know the cause. For some reason, my spells gained a massive amount of output, and that made the heating and lightening overdrive, lifting me from the ground, and singing my skin.


    This also explains the owlbear''s sudden burst of power, after which it collapsed. When the glimmer in its eyes vanished for the first time, magic energy bursted into the surroundings, and vanished shortly after, consumed by me and the owlbear. But where did this energy come from? In fact, I have no idea. Most likely, it stemmed from the owlbear. In a death struggle, it released this enormous amount of magic to finish me off, funnily enough so much energy that it ended up saving my live.


    How this happened, I will ponder about another time. Now, I need to get away from here, and find some food. I am starving.


    But first, I have to take a trophy, something with what I can prove I did it, something with what I can convince the villagers that I killed the menace threatening their lives. I look at the motionless corpse, and contemplate what I should take. Feathers would be easy, but not very remarkable. No, I need something more spectacular. The head? Too heavy. Unless... My gaze wanders, and finds its destination on the talons on the bears paw. This is it.


    I try casting seperation on the paw, and somewhat surprisingly, it pops right of. Yellow liquid is dripping from the stump, but lacking pressure, it is not much that drips out. The paw looks indeed like a feathery clutch of a predatory bird, spotting three talons pointing forward, and a singular pointing backward. It is as big as my chest. I try lifting it, but is too heavy for me. Does not matter, I only need the claws. They are as long as my forearm, and their lower side seems sharpened, almost like a knife. It is quite straight, and reminds me of a blade the more I look at it.


    I cast seperation yet again, into a line between the outer claw and the other ones. The paw splits, and leaves me with a hump of yellow flesh, in which the talon is embedded. I could, of course, remove the flesh with magic as well, but I fear the accidental removal of bits and pieces of my trophy, so I seperate another claw, and start cutting the meat straight of the first one with its cutting edge. It cleaves the meat of the talon with almost surreal ease, but fails to do as much as scratch the claw itself. This is truly a remarkable material. I try scratching it over the rock floor, and it leaves a scratch mark as soon as I apply the lightest pressure.


    I inspect the claw in my hand. It has a nice amber colour, way less threatening than when what was attached to the claws was still out to kill me. It got a not sharpened side, looking almost predestined for being a knife handle. It is larger than the knife I lost, but not too large for me to use it properly if I use two hands to wield it. I originally intended to take only one, but given I ought to never return to this place, it would be a shame to let the claws, those perfect, brilliant knives, just sit here unused.


    Half an hour later, I sit still at the bottom of the ravine, with eight cleaved clean claws spread out in front of me. The sun is withdrawing from its sweet spot that it illuminates the ravine in, so I need to make haste. Two are particularly big, to are a bit smaller, and four are of the same size in between. I untie the rope functioning as my girdle and attachment notch for my pouch, and string all the claws together to a bundle. I noticed earlier that for their durability and sharpness, a singular claw was surprisingly light. After bundling them all together, I am actually able to lift them all together. A paw was heavy due to flesh and bones, not the claws, apparently.


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    I divert a bit of magic energy into alleviation of the bundle, and it quickly seems to weigh not more than a feather, surprisingly quickly for the weight it weighed before. I pay no further heed to it, and cling the bundle under my arm. Applying pressure to my skin hurts, but so does seemingly everything at every time, no need pondering it. In my mind, I long suppressed myself of noticing the involuntary actions of pain my body does, actions unfit of me, such as whining, crying and whimpering.


    I take a look at the bloody, mangled and defiled corpse of the owlbear, and turn around one last time to first pat its head, then, after thoroughly collecting spit in my mouth, spitting right into its face, and placing a heavy kick right onto its cranium. This sends new bolts of pain through my leg, and myself hopping backwards on the other leg while swearing profusely. After having taken proper measures to let this fiend rot in a ditch, I start climbing up the walls of the ravine, to finally put an end to this episode.


    I trot along the trail of destruction connecting the ravine with my village. I ate some hare I shot right after leaving the ravine, but my mood is at a low. Now, that the menace threatening the lives of myself and my friends and family is eradicated, I have proper time to think about what actually happened. I have had an argument with the cold voice earlier, and although I knew its only purpose seems to be to drag me downwards more and more, it did what it does best and had me crying like a child who lost its parent, unable to do anything but bawling in the snow for so long of a time that I can only try to guess. In retrospect, I look down on myself for that. I have proven myself stronger, why fall back now?


    Father... I freeze. Feeling another storm approaching, I panically try to remember my views of life and death. There are hunters and the hunted ¨C the way of nature. The hunted must become hunters, or be hunted ¨C the proper, only secure way of reassuring ones life. In the end, my father turned out as someone hunted, and not a hunter. Then I came along, and turned his hunter into the hunted myself. It is only right and proper this way... Right? Right?


    I realize instead of striding forwards, I stopped an unknown time ago, lost in anguished thoughts. I try to take a single step forwards, to break the bane laying over me, but the images of my fathers head, together with eight others, resting in a pit, and getting dirt shovelled over to be never seen again, strikes me down again like a hammer, and darkens my mind like a gentle and cruel altogether embrace.


    I slowly trot through the snowy forest, alongside a trail of destruction. I had a goal in mind, but with every step I take, I am less sure whether or not I will reach it, and even more important: whether I or not I want to reach it. A few minutes ago, I recovered from the fifth breakdown this day. They grew more violent every time, and each and every time it took me more conviction to get back up, to not just lay down and take a rest. Each time, they sowed new doubts into me what would await me in the village, and lessened my desire to get back. Each time, my body seems to arise weaker, with less power in its limbs, with less energy.


    I feel hot, but not due to the magic heating. I was almost tempted to undo it, but I then remembered that this amount of heating was only good and proper, and served me well in the past. I can not let it go on a whim. So, I just bear with the heat, driving sweat down my body, burning on my skin, and continue to walk.


    I do not know how much way I already walked, I lost track a long time ago. Am I halfway back? Maybe close to the village, even? Or is the distance still a few days marches... At this pace, with that much breakdowns, I favour the latter theory. The sun seems about to set, so I walked for about half a day now. It felt like an eternity.


    I stand in a path of destruction, connecting two places with forgotten meaning. I had two breakdowns at this exact same spot, the first one striking me down after only a handful meters of travel, and the second one while still searching for the needed willpower to get going. I look into the sky, where beautiful red colours tinge the blue to announce the imminent departure of the sun. A bird seems to circle over me, watching me closely. Is it a vulture, and I am that close to death? But, I do not want to die...


    I need to continue. I set a foot before the other, focussing only on the waning sun in the sky. Its gentle warmth seems to invite me, but I am unsure to what, and whether I should happily accept the invitation, or if I should be afraid and run from it. Step after step, I get going again. As if noticing the shift in my resolve, the bird of prey in the sky stops circling me, and flies away, in the same direction I am headed towards. My limbs have lost their integrity, they feel more like cloth than bone, but my left arm is still clinging to the bundle of claws, and my legs are still moving, step by step.


    The light turns dim, the red fades into black. The gentle embrace of the sun fades, and leaves only cold horror. I take another step, but a branch obstructs my way, I stumble, and unable to save myself from falling, fall face-first into the snow.


    I feel hot tears running down my cheek, but I so burnt out emotionally that I feel nothing, nothing except for burning pain.


    I lie there. The outside is completely silent, but in my head, I hear blood rushing. Then, I hear the scream of a bird. Not the twisted scream of the owlbear, but the scream of a genuine bird. It does not sound like a vulture, however. Maybe it is one, still. Did the bird come back, and is declaring me for dead now?


    I may very well be dead, for all I know. I admire the owlbear for its strenght now, to be able to fight on even though close to death. But, it had something to focus on, an object of hatred, it could always strive towards the goal of killing me. Now, I do not even have that. The only thing is my body, which I continue to loose control and feeling over.


    A faint voice breaks the silence surrounding me, and gets my thoughts up and running again.


    "Pipin was right! A... ...boy, a... ...here! I need..." I understand only measly fragments of what is said, but this excited, and exciting, voice peaks my interest, and gives me something to work towards. It is the high, but coarse voice of a woman.


    "Holy hell! You are right! A child, at this of all places!" I hear a second voice, sparking my interest even further. It is a deep, manly voice, reminding me of the voice of a burly, strong man I once knew in the village.


    I hear several footsteps rushing towards me, more than I can count.


    "Did he spirits pass on?" A manly voice, with a calm, foreign accent mixes itself with other voices, which are all intermingling.


    The footsteps come to an halt, and loud, incoherent chatter fills the air, but it is full with concern and surprise.


    I feel a hand touching my neck, and hear a new voice, which sounds strict, and reminds me of the village doctor, with the difference that this is clearly a manly voice. "He is alive! Quick, prepare my field bed ¨C he is feverish and hurt!" I hear rushed movements, and a short while filled with a heated conversation later two strong arms lift me up, and turn me around. I see numerous faces, but my vision is blurry, and I can not make out details. The voice of the man carrying me, the same voice I heard after the first one, exclaims: "He is so light... Poor boy must have eaten nothing in weeks!" I get then laid down on what feels like a straw matress, a feeling reminding me of home. I feel my consciousness fading, and I feel relieved: against all expectations, I have been found. I hear another man''s voice saying: "What in the world did this boy carry under his arm? It looks like...", but instead of hearing what it looks like, I fade out.


    Unrestful dreams are drawing themselfs through my slumber, but I can not make sense of anything what is happening. One second, I stand in a hut, like what I live in, then in a forest, in an unknown place, and lastly, in a black void. It all happens too fast to puzzle together the meaning of anything.

 10 Years, Improvised camp. The Nosediving Merlin.

    10 Years, Improvised camp. The Nosediving Merlin.


    I wake up. The burning on my skin has faded, a relief, and has been replaced by a refreshing coolness, like a cold breeze on a warm summer day. My chest still hurts, but the pain seems to have lessened. In fact, I feel not all too much of my body altogether, and my mind seems a bit clouded. I open my eyes, and look at the face of a bearded man with dark brown hair and green eyes, whom I see from a sidewards perspective. It seems to be around early morning. The man seems to be busy working something in front of him. The bundle of talons lays right next to my bed, an assuring sight. I try to get up, experience taught me to not expect to much, but it is wrong this time, for I can get up without problems. How strange.


    The man was grinding herbs in a mortar, but stopped almost immediately, looking at me with an unfamiliar expression. "You are awake."


    I decide there is no reason not to answer this man, my apparent saviour, and say with silent and rough voice: "Yes." Surprised from how weak that sounded, I clear my throat, and say again, louder and clearer: "Yes."


    The man continues to stare at me, and seems unsure what to do. Then, he remarks: "I had my doubts. How do you feel, little one?"


    Little one? Come on. "I have a name. It is Reiland." This man was about thirty, if I had to guess. Still, he got no business calling me ''little one''. Then, I add, albeit more quietly: "I feel better."


    The man seems taken aback from my answer, and stutters: ¡°Ah, oh, sorry. Reiland, of course. I am glad you feel better. In all honesty, you have some unusual set of injuries and bodily conditions, so I was not sure about my prognosis. Also, that terrible fever of yours... But, you seem better indeed.¡±


    Unusual injuries? I think he may be right. After all, it is not exactly normal for a boy of my age to stand against an owlbear. Or be a magic caster. ¡°Where am I?¡± This question haunted me ever since I woke up a few minutes ago.


    ¡°How much of a fresh-up do your memories need? Do you mean this camp, this forest, this region or this country? This world?¡± In his voice there is not one gram of irony. I look at him in bewilderment.


    ¡°This camp should suffice? I hit my head once, but not that hard, you know.¡± I notice a small accusatory tone sneaking into my voice.


    The man blushes, which looks strange, paired with his looks, especially his beard. ¡°Sorry! I... You just seemed so outlandish, so out of this world, that I just... ¡° The man hastily brings forth an apology, and finally after a bit of awkward silence, he says: ¡°We are at the improvised camp of the Nosediving Merlin Band. A... what was the proper word again? A... Right! A hunting band, specialised on big game hunts. The biggest kind there is, to be precise.¡±


    So that is what it is like. This band was travelling along the path of destruction, presumably in the opposite direction, presumably to hunt the owlbear. The mayor said he would hire an exterminator, but I had not expected them to come this fast, or be this unprofessional. Still, they mended my wounds, so I have to be grateful. I think back to not being able to properly assess them ¨C and how I would need someone with proper medical experience to do that. It seems that I have someone who has this experience now after all. I should ask him for a status report.


    ¡°You told me that you had doubts of me waking up again... How bad is it exactly?¡±


    ¡°You want to know?¡± The mans expression changes, subtly only, but I see his insecurity waning. ¡°Yes.¡±, I answer. That is why I asked, after all.


    ¡°You have first degree burns over every last bit of skin on your body. In addition, you have frostbite on your extremities, of varying severity. Your feet are barely alive, a wonder they did not turn necrotic already in that snow. You  a cracked rib, if not for the narcotic I gave you, I doubt you would be able to think as clearly as now due to the pain. You have extreme fever... It went down a bit, but every part of your skin is still glowing in heat. Most peculiar of all, you should be dead. Starved, long ago. For how tall you are, you should weigh tenfold, better more. Yet, you show no particular signs of starvation. This puzzles me the most, to be honest.¡±


    All of that makes sense, I can see how that happened. I look down on myself. The blanket laying over my lap was made of fur, it covered me whole when I was asleep, but slid down when I sat up. It revealed blank skin, covered in a cream. I touch my face, and feel that the same cream is applied there, too. Indeed, I feel like I am a bit hot, as he said. The cream itself seems to cool my skin a bit, but none the less does the rest of my body feel searingly hot. I lower my self-heating by a good bit. Now that I am covered by a thick and warm blanket, it is overkill. ¡°I see. I should have figured.¡±


    The man nods in thought, and then proceeds to say: ¡°I gave you quite a strong narcotic, and a fever-suppressant, so it is normal that you do not feel pain. Still, do NOT take that as a reason to get active now again. You are not healthy. In fact, I never before saw someone in that strange of a condition before. You would do well to just stay on this bed until it normalizes. Of course, I will have to discuss that with Olivia and the others as well...¡±


    ¡°Olivia?¡± I did not hear that name before. I realise I do not even know the name of the man in front of me.


    ¡°The leader of our group. You will get to meet her, and the rest of us, soon enough. They are off hunting at the moment. Safe for Simon, he is sleeping in his bedroll close to here. The past few days of travelling were stressful for him, he is not as used to it as the rest of us.¡± The man explains this, but makes not efforts to introduce himself, so I wont ask him for his name, either. Yet, I can see a question in his face, but he does not seem to have the courage to ask it.


    I want to, as a thanks for him saving me, at least relieve him of that question. ¡°You have questions, I see that. Go on, ask them.¡±


    Relieved, the man immediately starts to ask away, not passing on this chance. ¡°What are you even doing in the forest? This deep in, none the less? Pardon me, but this is not a place for children. You seem more mature than your age, but still... what were you thinking when venturing this far into the forest? Don''t you know that there are dangerous animals here? We are actually pursuing one especially dangerous, its path is the one we found you on. Don''t you have a home where you ought to be? What about your parents, aren''t they worried? And even more, what is it with this bundle you carried? How did you get that? Why are you so light? Why...¡±


    This torrent of questions was a bit surprising to me, but I had intended to answer them, until one particular question hit me right in the heart, and that extremely painfully so. The man sees my agonized expression, which I am making even though I tried to prevent it, and immediately starts to apologize.


    ¡°I am so sorry! Was that a sensitive topic?¡± And then, more quietly, more to himself: ¡°God, I am the worst with people...¡±


    I try to regain my composure, try to brush it off as nothing, but in the end, the best I can do is say nothing. I just slid back under the blanket, and think about those topics that the question brought back, from where I tried to bury them.


    Depressed silence arises, and the man does not try to talk to me again. He seems to have gone back to his mortar, silently grinding herbs into powder. After half an hour, I start talking, without getting up. ¡°I live in this forest. I have no parents, never had some. There is no home, no place I got to be.¡±


    I feel like masking the truth behind a convenient lie. I do not want to talk about how it is, I only want to forget, so I talk about how it not is, and make this the new reality. I do not care if anyone believes me, because the only one that has to believe is myself.


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    The man looks into my face, says nothing for a few seconds, and then turns back to his work. Quietly, he mumbles: ¡°Sorry for your loss.¡±


    I wake up, on the same mattress, covered by the same blanket as before. I feel colder than before, or at least not as hot any more. This shows that lowering my heating was the right call. A glance at the sky shows that it is around afternoon. The man who was sitting next to me is gone, instead, there are people rummaging through something at the edge of my vision. I barely recognize some of the faces as faces I saw yesterday, when they picked me up.


    I watch them for quite a while, until someone notices me not longer sleeping.


    ¡°Awake! The boy married to spirits is awake!¡± It is the same deep, calm but foreign voice I heard before. This exclamation seemed to have stirred up the others, I hear several voices saying something along the lines of ¡°Finally!¡± and ¡°God be praised.¡± They all assemble around my bed, and seeing them all lined up like this, frighten me a bit. Then, I spot the familiar face of the one who spoke to me hours ago, and I calm down a bit. Finally, a woman steps forward, with the clear authority of someone who leads others. A bird is sitting on her shoulder ¨C I recognize it as the very same bird that circled over me yesterday, right before my collapse.


    ¡°Hello! Good to see you awake, Maaten said he had doubts. Whatever fears you had before, do not worry ¨C we will protect you.¡± The woman, who seems to be Olivia, the leader of this band, comes even closer and strokes my head while saying these words in a charming voice, but one which is charged with power and importance, at least in the confined space of this camp. I recoil from her touch, almost on reflex, and she withdraws her hand. Then, she continues to say: ¡°Whatever the reasons for you being here were, it is alright now. We would be a bad group if we did not care for children in need.¡± She looks at the other members, who all nod. While she seems to sense some deeper issue that I have, she, in contrast to Maaten, (Which has to be the name of the man I spoke to earlier) seems sensible enough to not ask for it directly.


    After that, she gives the rest a sign, and they proceed to go after their individual activities. She then speaks to Maaten, probably not intended for my ears, but they were keen ever since I was born. ¡°His temperature seems better. He is not glowing anymore.¡± The addressed nods, and answers: ¡°In fact, it went down right after I talked to him. He was more talkative back then. I think I scared him somehow...¡± Olivia dismisses that with a wave. ¡°Don''t worry about that. That boy is an enigma. Just be glad you got to talk to him at all.¡± After that, they both go after their own work as well.


    For the next hours, I just observe them. First laying down, from the edge of my vision, but later I also sit up, and follow their doing with all my attention. They seem to be a pretty random bunch of people. The man who had carried me to this bed, a really muscular type, is butchering a boar which hangs from a long rope of a tree. He has various knives and other tools fit for the job, and uses them skilfully to first skin the corpse, then remove guts and organs, and then cut it into handy pieces. I feel hungry, so I look forward to seeing that cooked.


    I could use my magic to get me a piece of that and cook it for myself, but for the meantime, I do not want to draw their attention on me even further. The man is not only professional, but also fast. I try to copy a few tricks to use when I will inevitably have to prepare an animal body for myself to eat the next time. I also can not come around to notice the difference to the owlbear, who just butchered everything by brutally tearing it to shreds. The most impressive thing about the man however is the enormous blade leaning against a tree next to him. It looks like an enlarged meat cleaver, more like an axe than a tool. He was also wearing heavy armour, which he had put next to the cleaver for ease of movement when butchering.


    Another strange man is the one with the foreign accent. Not only his accent is foreign, but his whole looks as well. He has dark skin, unlike everything I have seen before, and also short, black hair. He trains with a spear, with an uncommon tip, it looks more like bone or tooth than metal. When he does not train, he watches me. In fact, he seems very interested in me, and continues to ask me how I came to marry a spirit. I do not know what he means, and also do not answer his approaches. Still, he is persistent, returning every few minutes. He is wearing a leather garment, almost armour, but still allowing for maximal movement, the same garment as Olivia and Maaten.


    I notice someone who seems out of place in this group. He seems to be the youngest, barely twenty, and is wearing normal clothes, but more of the kind the mayors children, not I would wear. He also seems interested in me, but after I did not answer him as well, he scurried away and continued to watch me from a distance. Eventually, he got paper and a pen out of his sling pack, and was since then engulfed in his own writing. Olivia sometimes came over to him and sat next to him, but always not for long.


    Olivia herself was sending her bird around, and then feeds it with bits of meat jerky. The bird seems to be missing part of its beak, so Olivia is pre-chewing the meat, and then giving it the jerky in a softened state. She talks to the bird, and given I hear a abnormally high amount of the word ¡°Pipin¡±, I guess this is the birds name.


    Maaten was preparing a fire site, with large stones and a good amount of firewood. It seems to be in preparation to cook the boar that the muscular man butchered. When finished and the site only needs to be lighted, he gets to working his mortar and pestle again.


    I notice that one member of the group is gone, a woman with a pouch of stones slung around her waist. I know it contained stones because before she left, I saw her picking up one from the ground, inspecting it, and then putting it into the pouch.


    Finally (It was already evening) Maaten glaces the meat with a cream from a tallow-like substance, ground herbs and salt. I saw him preparing the mix right next to my bed, so I can tell. Then, he tries to light the fire with a pack of matches (one of the many conveniences produced by the magic guild), but it had turned quite windy, and he struggles to get it burning. I locate the tinder by vision, and heat a small spot with the coefficient that got free when I lowered my own heating. After a few dozens of seconds, quite some wasted matches and a few hearty swears from Maaten, the tinder catches fire, and a short while later the whole campfire burns in a nice orange.


    Maaten proceeds to lay out the meat on stones laying next to the fire, and not long after, the smell of frying meat is in the air, remembering my stomach how long it had nothing to eat.


    The missing woman returns as if attracted by the heavenly scent, and shortly after, everyone sits down with crossed legs, indulging in idle chatter, and Maaten hands out wooden plates with crisp boar meat, leaving me drooling in expectation. He gives one to everyone in the circle, starting with Olivia and then the person right to her, right and right till all around, and then comes to my bed, with a portion of meat that I feel is almost double as large as what the others got. While cooking the meat, he also had two copper pots on the fire, one now reveals itself as a fragrant herbal tea, where everyone gets a steaming cup from.


    I dig in. Self-fried squirrel bits were nice, but this is on yet another level. Taste explodes in my mouth, and as if I were out to get first-degree burns in my mouth as well, I ravish the meat even though it is way too hot. Only after gulping down my first portion, and seeing Maaten get my plate to promptly fill it with seconds, I realize he had been eating the meat from hand, and drinking tea from a bowl. Did he give me his only plate and cup?


    As he returns and hands me the new plate of divine meat, I take it, and say, albeit quietly: ¡°Thanks.¡± Nothing more, nothing less. Maaten smiles glumly, says nothing, and returns to the campfire.


    The time passes, and after everyone had seconds and thirds, and I crunch on my fourth while sipping my second cup of herbal tea, they tell each other stories from the past. Then, the foreign man, addressed by others as Popey, sings wonderful and mysterious songs in a completely unfamiliar language, much to the joy of the rest of the group. The stars watch over us, and I tiredly lay down to sleep ¨C the first time in a long time with a full belly and at peace at mind.


    ing with Olivia and then the person right to her, right and right till all around, and then comes to my bed, with a portion of meat that I feel is almost double as large as what the others got. While cooking the meat, he also had two copper pots on the fire, one now reveals itself as a fragrant herbal tea, where everyone gets a steaming cup from.


    I dig in. Self-fried squirrel bits were nice, but this is on yet another level. Taste explodes in my mouth, and as if I were out to get first-degree burns in my mouth as well, I ravish the meat even though it is way too hot. Only after gulping down my first portion, and seeing Maaten get my plate to promptly fill it with seconds, I realize he had been eating the meat from hand, and drinking tea from a bowl. Did he give me his only plate and cup?


    As he returns and hands me the new plate of divine meat, I take it, and say, albeit quietly: ¡°Thanks.¡± Nothing more, nothing less. Maaten smiles glumly, says nothing, and returns to the campfire.


    The time passes, and after everyone had seconds and thirds, and I crunch on my fourth while sipping my second cup of herbal tea, they tell each other stories from the past. Then, the foreign man, addressed by others as Popey, sings wonderful and mysterious songs in a completely unfamiliar language, much to the joy of the rest of the group. The stars watch over us, and I tiredly lay down to sleep ¨C the first time in a long time with a full belly and at peace at mind.

 10 Years, Improvised Camp. Healing.

    10 Years, Improvised Camp. Healing.


    I wake up by the feeling of someone touching me. My heart starts racing, but calms itself as soon as I see Maaten, who changes the wound dressing on my feet. He stops for a moment when he notices me starting, but continues when I calm down. I watch as he cleans my feet with a soft brush, and then applies a brown-greenish ointment, which he subsequentially covers under new, still white rags. Now that I am awake, he started explaining what he does, in a calm and calming tone.


    ¡°I need to get the dirt out of the frozen area, or else it has a high chance of infection. Here, this cream is to disinfect further, and keep your feet from deteriorating beyond the critical state they are in already. It is composed of an active agent produced by the magic guild, generally very handy, and ground medicinal herbs, in a suitable carrier fat. Of course, I also need to dress it properly, or it will be for naught...¡±


    While explaining, Maaten states his knowledge as facts, showing not the slightest insecurity for his ability as a doctor. This is weird, considering how insecure he seems otherwise, but it also puts me to rest, giving me the feeling of being in competent hands.


    ¡°Your skin is going to blister soon, that is natural when recovering from a burn. The ointment I applied yesterday and today while you slept will help mitigating that a bit and also aid the recovery, but you can not get around it totally.¡± Indeed, the cooling effect which had faded over the past day is back, implying that the cream has been reapplied.


    ¡°I used nearly my whole jar of burn ointment, so you will have to go on without it tomorrow. I also refrained from giving you more narcotic, drugging you the whole time is not an option, especially since your young body might react poorly to continued doses. Yesterday was an exception, since you had this terrible fever.¡± I feel my cracked rib more than yesterday, and it makes breathing painful, but it is still nothing compared to what I had to endure during the fight, so I think I will manage.


    ¡°Regarding the rib itself, there is not really anything I can do. What you need is bed rest so it can heal by itself. If not for this important beast we are hunting, I would have proposed staying here until you are healed, but like this, I will have to find another solution.¡± Maaten looks troubled over that, but I do not feel like telling him he does not have to worry ¨C after I opened up yesterday and it only hurt me, I will remain silent so I can live in peace. At least for now.


    During Maatens whole talk, I looked into his face, trying to assess if he is hiding anything from me regarding my condition, but it did not seem that way. If this continues, I estimate that I will be able to do pretty much everything again in a few days. Not without pain, but to good enough capacity. Still, I take his advice, and lie down again.


    That is, until he and the rest of the band left, and something else in the camp peaks my interest. One person stayed behind, and is now minding his own business. I try getting up, but realize I am naked under the blanket. My clothes are not laying next to the bed, so I wrap the blanket around myself. I also increase the heating on the spots that wont be covered by the blanket, and set my foot onto the snowed ground.


    It does not hurt as much as Maaten had foretold, probably because I apply less pressure on it, since I am so much lighter than normal. I feel a bit guilty about completely disregarding Maatens advise, but at the same time, I feel like I am wasting my time when just laying idle.


    The young man in the travelling attire sits on a small leather sitting blanket, separating his fur-lined cloth pants from the snow underneath. I quietly step next to him, and get a good look at what he was hiding behind his rather slim back. A small, short folding table is set up in front of him, barely enough for a stack of paper sheets held together by a wooden clipper, a small piece of erasing mass, and a collection of three pencils, in varying sizes. The man himself, referred to by others as Simon yesterday, from what I picked up when they where sitting around the camp fire, is moving the pencil in his hand over the paper manically, letting line after line of tiny, untidy writing appear.


    I sit down next to him, so I can get a better look at what he is writing. (Plus, my feet actually are hurting more when standing up, if only ever so slightly.) He does not seem to notice me, totally engulfed in the sheet of paper in front of him. He fills the first sheet shortly after I sit down, turns it around, finds the backsides covered in the same messy handwriting, and stores he in a leather folder that layed on his lap up to this point. Without hesitating, he then proceeds to do the same on the next sheet of paper. Finally, when he reaches for a water skin next to him, he notices me.


    ¡°Ah, you were that sitting here. Did you enjoy watching me write?¡± He unties the water skin, and drinks from it in big, greedy gulps. Unsure to how to answer his question without embarrassing myself, I slightly shake my head. In fact, it was interesting to watch him write, however.


    Simon laughs. ¡°You didn''t? Ah, a shame! Olivia always tells me she enjoys watching me write. I''m glad you did not snuggle as close as she does when watching me, though!¡± Relieved that I did not seem to offend him, which would subsequentially have made getting information from him harder, I breathe a slight sigh of relief.


    ¡°Did Maaten allow you to get out of bed already? I remember him talking about your injuries quite in detail, and also setting a minimum span of your bed rest of at least two weeks. Did anything of that change?¡± After a long period of contemplating, I again shake my head, only a little. Simon bellows out a short laughter, again. ¡°I get you! Staying in bed is boring, right? I totally get you, believe me. But, although I had quite the quarrel with Maaten when I broke my index finger and he forbid me to write, I believe in his ultimate competency as a doctor. If he says something is best for you, it is.¡±


    Guilt starts flooding into my consciousness, after all, Maaten had only wanted the best for me. Yet, with all the involuntary experience and training I had in the last two weeks, I manage to mask my guilt behind a stone face, barely, but fully. Simon sighs. ¡°Well, I am not Maaten, so I will not carry you into the bed. Still, I recommend it. Seriously.¡± His joking tone is gone, and he now talks like a older person would lecturing a child. My stone mask cracks, and the guilt finally seeps into my facial expression. I slump back to the bed, and lie onto it.


    Simon, instead of continuing to write, sits down next to me. ¡°I get it, its boring. I will give you a bit of company, if you wish.¡± Again involuntarily, relief seeps into my expression, and I work hard to rebuild that mask of stone again. ¡°Say, have you ever learned to read? I believe it is one most important skills anybody can possibly possess, right next to writing. If you want, I can teach -¡±


    I nod my head, and speak, very silently: ¡°I can.¡±


    For a moment, Simon looks downright sad that he does not get to teach me. Then, he quickly overwrites that with excitement. ¡°You can, that is great! Have you read ''The Dark Nothingness''?¡±


    I shake my head. Simons joy seems to have halved over that motion. ¡°Hmm, I unfortunately do not have a copy with me, either... Then what about ''Silently the peck-potter cries''?¡± Again, I shake my head. ¡°But you surely read ''Dark Moon over the City''? ''Thoughts of yesterday''? ''Abyssal Cravings''? ''House of Tuttenberrow?''¡± To each, I shake my head, and each one plants more questions in my head. What does the Abyss crave for? Who was Tuttenberrow? What where the thoughts of yesterday? From how Simon described it, I get the feeling I missed out.


    Simon himself seems devastated. ¡°Those all were classics... What book did you even read? ''Temptation of the promiscuous Landlady''?¡± Again, I shake my head. Then, with silent voice, I say:


    ¡°I read ''What is Magic? The basics.''


    Simon does not react well to that. ¡°Are you mocking me?¡± His voice seems thoroughly insulted. I see a deep pain in his eyes, appearing as soon as he heard my words. I feel my words were not the cause of the problem, but rather the reason why it resurfaced. I quickly shake my head, and add ¡°It is the truth!¡± That seems have triggered something in Simon, and instead of offended, he just looks depressed.


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    ¡°I am sorry, I overreacted. It is just, this book and I have had a bad history, and hearing that title, it brought forth bad memories.¡± Simon does not seem comfortable talking about it, and for the sake of wanting others to treat me like I do them, I do not pry. I, too, got painful memories to bury, just not related to this book. This brings to my mind that all the time, I carried it with me in my pouch.


    ¡°Where are my clothes?¡± As long as it is about normal topics, a little talking will not hurt too much. I actually wondered where my clothes where since yesterday, but since I did not need them under the blanket and with all the ointment on my skin, I saw no urgency in getting them back.


    ¡°Oh, we hung them up into a nearby small tree, to dry. They were wet when we found you. Wait, I will get them for you.¡± Simon gets up, and leaves, I loose sight of him in the dense forest surrounding us. Shortly after, he gets back, indeed with my robes, pants and shirt. I sit upright in the bed, and Simon plants the clothes onto my lap. I rummage through them, and quickly find my waist pouch. It had stuck in my trouser during the last journey before I collapsed, since I needed the string that normally kept it on my waist to tie together the claws.


    I open it, and pull out a slightly tattered and wet copy of said book. The pouch did decently enough at protecting it, and although it is not at all beautiful, it is still fully readable. Simon winces a bit when seeing the cover, but it not like he has a phobia against it. He does not comment on it, instead, he continues writing, he moved his desk and sitting pillow right next to my bed. I skim through the book, and even though I have problems reading it, (since I never was a particularly good reader), it brings back memories. While the feelings they evoke are bittersweet, they themselves are happy. They tell of a better time without problems, with healthy parents and nothing to do except merrily bathing in your own thoughts.


    When I actually get to reading its content, I realize with how much I disagree, how much is just straight-up not adding up with what I discovered myself, and what I witnessed with Brian and Ione. Most obvious, not mentioning adapterless casting at all. I do not understand why they do not teach that in the magic university, it may be harder and more complicated, but ultimately, it is faster and more versatile, both useful aspects. Most important however, you can do it without this annoying thing in your arm.


    There are some other things not adding up, like the laws of how magic energy drains and recovers, but I stop thinking about it when I notice that Simon stopped writing, and is looking at me. Noticing being noticed, he asks a question, seemingly one he had waited long to ask: ¡°Is it true what Popey said? Are you married to a spirit?¡± He asks this with a notion not unsimilar to when I ask someone a, in retrospect, pretty silly and self-explanatory question.


    ¡°What is that even supposed to mean? Why would you think that?¡±


    ¡°Well, because you are so light! Popey often talks about them, when he talks of his home. The men and women married to spirits, I mean. He says it is common there, but he never saw anyone like that again since he left. That is also why he is so excited, I think. He says those married have fantastical abilities, like jumping like a leaf in the wind, or scorching objects with their fists, or being as hard to hit as water. I actually wrote a poem collection about a married one, from what stories Popey told us.¡± Simon seems to have broken free from his glum state, and now is as excited as ever. ¡°That reminds me: If you only ever read that book, you never read any poetry, right?


    A bit overwhelmed, I nod. Simon rushes to the old spot he sat at, reaches into his backpack, and rushes back. His cheeks are a bit reddish, whether from the cold or from excitement, I can not tell.


    ¡°I am sorry I mistook you for a boy of bad taste, when the reality is still worse! I only got some poems with me that I wrote, and an anthology by Silgur Silverpen. Start with the anthology, then read my own works!¡± He puts a small bound book into my hand, and followed by a small leather folder. ¡°I always wanted that Olivia reads them, but oh shame, she only wants me to read things out loud to her. I am glad I found another appreciator of the arts in you!¡± He sits back down, and with newly-kindled spirits, starts writing down word after word, line after line.


    I did not know I was an ''appreciator of the arts''. Yet, I got hardly anything better to do, so I start reading the anthology.


    Hours later, I am about a quarter through. What I read elated me more than hardly anything, safe for whenever I made a new advancement in the magic arts. I read familiar words, but composed to sentences in an unfamiliar way, painting strange and beautiful pictures in my mind. The first poem was only a page long, about ten lines, and dealt with a boy plucking a flower in the midst of a field of weeds.


    At least I thought that the first time reading. I am a slow reader, and not a very secure one, so I had to read every sentence and passage again and again, and everytime, I found a new possible meaning, adding another layer of depth to the text. Now it was about a boy plucking a flower, then about a man finding something beautiful in a sea of mediocrity, and next time about a lover following his acclaimed through all the things throwing itself into his way.


    The poems only got better after that. Over time, I got faster and more secure in reading, with everything I learned from the mayors wife coming back into place. I also found subpatterns in the patterns of the text, revealing more meaning to myself each and every time.


    Finally, I was burnt out by this new sensation, and felt I needed a rest, so I put the book aside. Simon had decided to take a nap, and snored a few meters away, in his own bedroll. It was about this time that the others returned.


    They were visibly exhausted, and as soon as they returned, Maaten started preparations for the next meal. Olivia was feeding her bird, and Popey sat down together with the other woman, who apparently goes by the name of Shina, and the muscular man, named Timo. They talk about their trip, I do not understand everything, but from what I get, they had been following the tracks of the owlbear quite far into the forest, but eventually returned to stray not to far from the camp.


    The name owlbear was actually used for the beast, so they most likely had heard of it from the mayor. I wonder if the mayor also told them to look for a disappeared child, I do not think it is unlikely, but if he did, noone mentioned it to me. Although they seem to have quite good teamwork and combat power, I doubt they would be able to take the owlbear down. Maybe the mayor knew that as well, but still sent them for the lack of better options.


    Not long after, a pot of stew is hanging over the campfire, apparently with lots of leftover boar meat from yesterday, and various mushrooms and herbs Maaten picked in the forest. It has a hearty fragrance, and reminds me that I am actually quite hungry. The sun is about to set as well, bathing the whole scenery in a nice orange-red light, mixing with the light emitted by the campfire.


    Finally the soup in the pot seems about done, but before Maaten gets the chance to give everyone a bowl, Olivia stands up and gets everyone attention with a single word. ¡°Companions! Before we eat, let us discuss how to proceed. I know, you are hungry, but this is important.¡± A slight grumbling runs through the rest of the band, it is apparent that they had looked forward to that meal, but the protest does not stretch further, and everyone, myself included, listens to what she has to say.


    ¡°Our prey is deeper inside the forest than expected. If we want to follow it, we need to break the camp and venture deeper into the forest as a whole. However, given our special guest, this may be hard to do.¡± She looks into my direction, but even without that, everybody knows who is meant. ¡°Originally, I had planned to take out the troublemaker on this trip, return to the camp, and remain here until the boy is in a transferable state. But, this is not an option now. The village where we started off is about a days march away from here. Maaten, if someone carried the boy, do you think he could be brought to the village''s healer? Is that possible in his condition?¡±


    Wait. This is not going into a direction I like.


    ¡°Hmm, I think it should be possible. His fever went down, he does not seem like he is on the brink of death anymore. In fact, he seems not injured in any way that would have direct life-threatening consequences. I would actually prefer him being brought to a proper doctor with proper equipment.¡±


    Damn it. I do not want to go back there. If I do so, I will get killed. No question. The mayor said he would protect me, but this was before I ran the second time. I can not go back there, or the mob would kill me. No way. But what should I do?


    After thinking a second about Maatens answer, Olivia takes word again. ¡°I''ve been thinking about this on our whole way back, actually. If we break camp and go further into the forest, we can not let Maaten stay here with the boy, in case anyone of us gets wounded, we would be helpless without him. Popey, Simon.¡± The two adressed listen extra carefully to what Olivia says next. ¡°You two, carry the boy back into the village. One of you would suffice since he is so light, but to be honest, Simon, I do not want you to travel through the forest alone. Neither do I want you to go with us further, it was a bad Idea from the start, after seeing the destruction this monster caused. Therefore, Popey, go with him. Your experience as a trapper and a fighter are very valuable, but of little use against a beast of this calibre.¡±


    How do I convince them otherwise? Do I use magic to fake a relapse into fever? No, that would freak Maaten out, and I do not know what he would do then, quite possible rush to bring me to the village doctor, seeing himself unable to treat me.


    In the worst case, I will just run away again. I know how to survive in the forest, and I did so before. But, I would also rather not do that. I ran away so often from problems, just because it was the easiest way. Plus, I have taken a liking in the group, and I bet I could learn a lot from them, if they only would let me.


    Then, there is still the option of telling them the truth. To what extent is unclear, but to tell them enough so they keep me with them, and do not bring me back. But what do I tell them? That I would be killed if I got back to the village? That the owlbear, the monster, as they proclaimed it, was already killed by me? Both do not seem particularly believable from the mouth of a feverish ten-year old. For the second, I would have at least the proof of the claws that I took.


    Considering the two options I have and how I swore to act in the future, I only have one option, really.


    ¡°NOO!¡± I scream. The six flinch a bit, not expecting my scream. Then Olivia, followed by the rest of the band, comes and stands right next to the place where I lay down.


    ¡°What do you mean, no?¡±


    ¡°I must not go back there, to the village...¡± I try to put as much emotion and dread into my voice, but surprisingly I realise that I do not even have to try. Tears start flowing down my cheek, and I howl more than I speak. I realise I genuinely fear going back there, with every last bit of my body. ¡°All but that! Please, I beg you! Don''t bring me back there... I do not want to die! Please, all but that...¡± The words flow as fast and hot as my tears, and they seem to have an impact on the faces of everyone.


    ¡°Now, now, calm down... It is alright... Shhhh...¡± Olivia sits down, and lays her arm around me in an almost motherly embrace. When she pats my head, I do not recoil like I did last time. From the edge of my vision, the part not obstructed by her chest, I see the others standing around awkwardly.


    She sat there for as long as I remember. I had originally planned to tell them why I did not want to return to the village, but in her sweet embrace, something I only now realised how much my body craved it, I was quick to fall asleep.

 10 Years, Improvised Camp. Fessing up.

    10 Years, Improvised Camp. Fessing up.


    I wake up, a sun ray is tickling my face. As I open my eyes, I see it had snowed again, as everything is covered in a fresh, safe for a few boot prints untouched layer of white. A small wooden bowl covered with another, larger bowl stands next to me. I remove the top bowl, and see a portion of the stew Maaten cooked yesterday. Realising how hungry I am, I sit up, and put the bowl onto my lap. A wooden spoon is lodged into the partially-frozen soup, whoever put it here did not fully think this through.


    I use a bit of my coefficient to heat up the stew, making it melt after only seconds, and finally emitting soft vapour into the cold winter air. I see that my arms have blistered, like Maaten had said. The blisters are filled with a clear fluid, not unlike those that I developed from my frostburn on hands and feet. They look less nasty however, and cover my skin only sparsely. Praise be the cream Maaten applied.


    I blow off the steam from a spoonful of soup, and begin to eat. It tastes a bit mushy, but not bad. It reminds me of the stews I used to have at home.


    The rest of the camp seems either gone, or still asleep. I see three bedrolls moving slightly up and down, two are empty. That makes five, so one more is probably set up out of my vision, whether occupied or empty, I cannot tell. Just as I am about halfway through my bowl, the figure of a sleepy Olivia emerges from one of the bedrolls. I hear a cry from one of the nearby trees, and the bird comes flying down, and lands on Olivias shoulder. She greets it quickly, before noticing me watching.


    Her eyes meet mine, it is clear that she had not much sleep yesterday. Dark circles underline her grey eyes, and single strains of her light brown hair have broken out of her ponytail, and dangle in front of her face. She takes a bit of snow, and rubs her face with it. This seems to invigorate her, and shortly after, she walks up to the bed I am sitting on.


    "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" She asks this without reservation or spite for my outburst in tears the day before. I nod. "Good!" She sighs, and then sits down next to me. She is not looking at me, but rather aligning her view parallelly to mine, gazing over the rest of the camp. ¡°When Popey, Maaten and Timo return from the Scout trip, we will have to make a decision. You know what I am talking about, don''t you?¡±


    I nod reluctantly.


    ¡°Then you also know why I, why we as a band, need to send you back. Back to the village.¡± She stops talking for a moment, before continuing in a soft voice. ¡°You are the boy who ran away from Cottan, right?¡±


    So the mayor did tell them about it. ¡°I know. I know why you want me to go. But still... I can not return there. They would kill me.¡±


    Olivia raises her eyebrow. ¡°Do you really believe that? I do not think so. Sure, the people in the village seemed upset, but you paint it darker than it is. You are a child, after all. They will forgive you, for whatever happened. I am certain of it.¡±


    The mayor apparently did not tell her details, only that I was gone. I will give her the details. She will change her mind then. I am tired of keeping to myself anyway. I will tell her all, and if she thinks bad of me for it, I will just run away. I should be able to in my condition. In fact, I will do the same if she continues being iron on sending me back to the village.


    ¡°I ran away. Due to my fault, someone close to me got injured, and instead of helping, I ran away.¡± The regret I am feeling over that naturally mixes into my voice. Olivia sighs, as if expecting something like this. She lays her hand on my head, and strokes my hair.


    ¡°I see. This must have laid heavy on your heart. Even then, I am sure the people will understand...¡±


    I sharply look into her face, instantly stopping her in the word. My eyes start tearing up. She signed up for the story, she is getting it in full. ¡°When I ran away, they sent a searching party after me. Around a dozen members¡­¡± My voice sounds miserable and pathetic. Not letting her eyes wander off, capturing them with those water-shod of mine, I press out word after word. ¡°Can you imagine what a shouting, torch-bearing group may attract in a nocturnal forest?¡±


    Shock of realization. Those three words are the essence of Olivia¡¯s whole expression, Shock and nothing more. ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°They got slaughtered! Nine of them!¡± I manically start crying, sobbing and shouting, not even thinking what to say, just letting these pent-up confessions flow like a river. Olivia withdraws an inch, and has taken back her hand as well.


    ¡°Do you know why I know there were nine? DO YOU KNOW?¡± Hysteria has me in its iron grip. ¡°I know that because I FUCKING COUNTED THEIR SEVERED HEADS! I FUCKING COUNTED THEIR SEVERED HEADS as I DUG A PIT with my BLOODY FINGERS to give them the honour of NOT ROTTING OUT IN THE OPEN!¡±


    Like a dam that broke, everything floods out. Olivia looks terrified. She? Terrified? Of What?


    It hits me like a bolt. She is terrified of me.


    ¡°Under them was Father. Father, oh Father...¡± It takes me longer and longer to get further sentences out, too worked up are my thoughts, it would be a miracle if anything I say was still coherent. Finally, I set out for a last sentence. ¡°This is why I ran away. I ran away to FUCKING END THIS MISERABLE CREATURE.¡±


    I am done. Spent. I cry, cry and cry. Minute after minute, eventually hour after hour. Time lost its meaning. Yet, after only a few minutes, I feel someone hugging me from the side, and caressing my head. Words are whispered into my ear, but words for which meaning I no longer care. Finally, I get embraced by a second entity, a deep, gentle slumber.


    I wake up. My head hurts and I feel sick, but I am leaning against a warm chest, giving me hold like a solid rock in the surf. Something tickles my ears, reminding me of the time I fell asleep on the dead owlbear¡¯s back. I look up, and see a bird of prey lodging its talons into a leather falconer¡¯s shoulder guard. The shoulder itself belongs to Olivia, who, noticing me starting to move, smiles at me. It is a warm smile, making me reminiscent of older, better times.


    It is a smile that reminds me of mother. A smile that, with her progressively worsening leg condition, I got to see rarer and rarer, and that seemed to disappear forever after the incident.


    Yet, in all its goodness, the smile Olivia is bearing, unlike that of mother, also hints of something deeper below, a state of uneasiness, a state of being torn between a decision, the proper, safe decision and the decision that feels right. Just the moment as I study this smile, this fight seems won by one side, although it is unbeknownst to me which decision won, at the end.


    After a bit of silence, Olivia starts talking. ¡°Do you want to come with us? In all honesty, having you come with us on this hunt will hinder us, but I recognised your will to fight, and believe you have a right to see this beast, this beast which has brought you and so many other people nothing but pain, to death. Therefore, I ask you again: Do you want to come with us?¡±


    This is all I wanted to hear. Without hesitation, I answer. ¡°I want to, yes.¡± I take a breath, relieved. Even though I said I would run would they force me back to the village, I did not want to. I like it here. Everyone is nice, and the food is good. I feel like every single person here could teach me as much as I learned on my own so far, only in new topics, different from magic.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Olivia gets up, I notice that Simon and the other woman, Shina, were watching us all the time. ¡°Get back and rest. I will discuss everything necessary; you can try to collect all you know about this owlbear. To be honest, we do not know much about it ourselves. Anything you can tell us could potentially help.¡±


    As requested, I lay back down, and slip under the blanket. With this burden taken from my chest, I can forget what happened, and focus on what is coming. I do not have to try long to fall asleep, since even though I just now woke up from a long slumber, the toll that the healing of my wounds takes on my body is noticeable.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Someone wakes me up by gently shaking me. I half-open my eyes, and see Maaten. He is wearing his backpack, which until now I have only seen lying next to my bed. As a matter of fact, the camp of the Nosediving Merlin had ceased to exist, had been disassembled into lots of backpacks and slingpacks, the majority of which are now resting on Timo¡¯s back. Without breaking into sweat, this colossus of a man shoulders half the cargo on his own.


    ¡°Don¡¯t panic, Reiland. We are departing. Come here, get into your clothes, and wrap yourself into the blanket, Timo will carry you as well.¡± Carefully guiding my half-asleep movement while speaking to me in a tranquilizing manner, Maaten helps me up, hands me piece after piece of my clothing which I dazedly put on causing irritations where it slides over blisters, envelops me in the blanket, and then nods to Timo, who lowers his back to allow me to cling onto the already stacking backpacks. I notice how they strap me tight with a few ropes, and not long after, the band leaves this spot behind, tracking through the forest in a caravan line. Due to the slow and steady swaying of Timo¡¯s walk, I gradually sink back into sleep.


    When I wake up, the group is still walking. I feel better rested, but I can only make a vague guess how long I was sleeping in the end. It was dark when we departed and it is dark now, this is all I know. My legs are still asleep. I feel a bit hot, which I attribute to my heating, not a possible fever. My feet, although still hurting, are screaming for some change, something that is not laying around or being carried, as I had been continually doing that in the last three days.


    ¡°I can walk.¡± I quietly say that, and Maaten, walking right next to Timo, hears it.


    ¡°Not with those feet, not without shoes. If you do that now, even I won¡¯t be able to keep your soles from freezing off.¡± That was a quick, and solid rebuttal. I pout, even though I know he does not know better. He does not know I can very well keep them properly warm on my own.


    Olivia, upon noticing that I woke up, falls back from the front position. They tied me down around my waist, still allowing for moderate movement of myself, so I can pretty much see the whole group. ¡°Slept well and sound?¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°Have you thought about what I asked you? Can you tell me something about the owlbear? Anything could help, really. We know very little right now, only what the mayor told us, what became common knowledge from rumours and legends, and what we have seen on the way. The destruction, I mean.¡±


    I realise our journey so far was all along the path of destruction that the owlbear caused on the first pursuit. Following this path, we will eventually reach the ravine, the place where it all ended. Until then, I will have to familiarize them with the thought that their prey is already dead.


    Well, I will tell her what I know, without holding back ¡°The owlbear is big as a boulder, and as heavy too. With a single dash, it is capable of uprooting even large trees, and nothing can offer protection. When it runs, it is twice as fast as any human¡±


    ¡°Well, that much we can see. Not anything can devastate a patch of land like we see it here.¡± Olivia nods, her gaze roaming through the surroundings. This kind of destruction somehow turned into normality for me over the span of my struggle against the owlbear, but thinking about it, it is really remarkable. I doubt even a rolling boulder would have equally destructive effects.


    ¡°It has the body of a bear, but the beak and the eyes of an owl, and its front paws are like the claws of a bird of prey. Its feathers are soft and warm, but it itself is cold. Its blood is yellow. Its claws are of an amber colour, long as a forearm, and sharp as a sword.¡±


    Olivia nods, with an earnest face. Still, her gaze wanders off to something hanging next to me, my bundle of war trophies, perhaps unconsciously. In any case, it always rapidly snaps back to me.


    ¡°It is as cold as the surroundings, and it does not breathe. It has no pulse, either. Every prey it catches it mutilates, tears completely into shreds, but it leaves the head perfectly intact. It does not eat anything it hunts. It hunts down everything it sees, be it as small as a mouse or as large as a deer.¡±


    An unrecognisable expression starts taking over Olivia¡¯s face. ¡°That is somewhat incredible, don¡¯t you think¡­ Legends tend to exaggerate, don¡¯t they?¡±


    I slowly shake my head, and continue. ¡°It is smart as a human, and has feelings as one. But, instead of consciousness, it has only infinite rage, rage that brings it to pursuit its sworn enemy even if a knife is sticking in its throat, even if it is missing an eye, even if its legs are smashed to pulp.¡±


    ¡°You sure sound like you have seen it with your own eyes.¡± Olivia seems somewhat uneasy, but overplays it well.


    ¡°I have seen it. With these eyes.¡± While saying that, I point at them, dead serious.


    Olivia remains silent, but under her skin, I can see thoughts racing about, trying to fit things into sense.


    I nod to her silence. Then, after she remains quiet a bit longer, I jokingly remark: ¡°You are mighty lucky that you came across such an owlbear expert like myself, are you not?¡± I need to spill the beans, and soon. But not just yet.


    Olivia looks at me, and finally asks, dead serious: ¡°Say, you expert¡­ Do you think we have a chance? Winning against such a beast?¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°Can you run faster than the wind? Can you lop off a bear¡¯s head in one strike while it charges at you?¡±


    Olivia kicks a stone in front of her, it flies off to the side, and impacts somewhere with a thump. She then mutters, as if not for my ears: ¡°Even then, we need to go.¡± I intrude into that monologue, following up with a quick ¡°Why?¡±.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Olivia seems surprised. ¡°You ask why? Shouldn¡¯t you, of all people, know the best why? Or was that grief, that hatred you showed earlier, nothing but a facade?¡± Olivia states this as if it was obvious.


    ¡°No, my longing to see it dead was the real thing. But what is your reason? Nobody you know was harmed yet. Why do you not let this problem be someone else¡¯s? I do not think anybody would blame you.¡± Or could it be that they want to kill the owlbear to prove their own ability? Is it a matter of proving strength?


    ¡°You speak like someone who could make it far in life, given proper time. But in this case, we are not alike: It is my problem because it is someone else¡¯s problem. What good is being strong as we are, if not to use that to protect the weak, even if it risks our own life?¡±


    I see, I get it now. They are those kind of people. ¡°Noble.¡± This word is being said without positive or negative notion, only as a matter of fact. But Olivia seems to have understood it in the wrong way.


    ¡°There are not enough noble people in this world. If there were more, maybe we could hope to see a better future.¡± She is not angry, but at least a bit irritated.


    ¡°I had a friend that was just like you. Noble, I mean.¡± Had? That is right. Brian and I, we will not see each other again. Neither will I see Mother, or Ione again. As I said, that possibility was wiped out when I ran from the village. Even if I returned to the village, even if nobody would lynch me there, I can not get around the feeling that in the end, all the persons once close to me came to hate me. Mother, for loosing father, Brian, for messing him up, Ione, for hurting her precious brother.


    While I think such thoughts, Olivia remains quiet for a while, pondering on her own, but finally, she asks: ¡°What happened to him?¡±


    ¡°He overestimated himself, and ended up paying a heavy toll on his body. His intentions were only the best, I certify for that.¡±


    Why did I go after the owlbear? The answer is clear, to protect everyone dear to me. Also, to avenge father, and seek retribution for the pain inflicted. Still, why is all of that important? I will never see anyone of them again, no matter what I do. Would it then not have been rational to just go the simplest way, to just run away from everything? Not to hunt down this beast, but to rather flee into a totally different part of the world, and free myself of everything remaining?


    Yet, it would have felt wrong. In this case, acting rationally would have felt wrong. Weird¡­


    Maybe this is the essence of what it means to be noble. Acting on what feels right, even if it is not rational at all.


    Maybe, acting noble is in fact a good thing.


    Finally, we come close to the ravine, and I start recognising the territory. Sensing that we come closer to our target, Maaten unties me from Timo¡¯s back. Having Simon carry me, we two are supposed to immediately retreat when spotting the owlbear. He loudly remarks how I am light, and therefore does not grumble too much about having to carry me. Mentally, I prepare for what is coming.


    The ravine is appearing at the edge of our vision. Olivia¡¯s bird does not seem to have spotted anything, so they are not particularly on guard.


    I slip off Simons back in a single motion. Since I was awake, they did not bother to tie me, there is no risk of me falling.


    ¡°Hey! What is it?!¡± Simon shouts out loud, but unfazed of that, I quickly walk barefoot to the ravine, passing through the group. Maaten tries to get a hold of me, but I take a step back, and shake my head. He reluctantly gives up on picking me up again.


    Swarming behind me, asking questions in unison, the band follows me as I almost run to the edge of the ravine. My feet hurt, but it is alright, thanks to the heating I pour into them, alongside with the co-ensuing magic euphoria.


    I follow the edge in a certain direction, ignoring the increasingly loud shouts of the group. In the time it took to reach the ravine, dawn had arrived, so there was some level of visibility all around.


    Finally, I reach the spot where two fell in, but one climbed out victorious.


    I turn around, and see six people running behind me, With Popey, Olivia and Shina being at the front, Timo and Maaten following up close, and Simon being left behind quite some distance.


    I look down. One after another, they reach me, bursting with questions, but when looking downwards alongside me, they immediately turn silent. Finally, a good half minute after everyone else, Simon reaches us, panting and coughing heavily.


    ¡°Seriously! Don¡¯t run like that, please give me some time to catch up, for god¡¯s sake. What¡¯s this commotion about?¡± He looks down as we all do, and mutters: ¡°Oh.¡±


    Down there, a dead body of a gigantic bear with an owl¡¯s head is taking its time decomposing.