《From Dreams to Magic》


 Prologue ~ Faireblot Academy

    As the first touches of spring appear brightening the dreary kingdom with fresh greenery and pristine flowers, the great gates of Faireblot academy swing open revealing a place unreachable for the common ilk untested in the art of servitude. It is marvellous with delicate arches and towers decorated by feats of flowing architecture with some details so fine and ill proportioned that if not for the strengthening enchantments in the walls it would not be unreasonable for them to blow over in the slightest breeze. The grounds are so large that even with the sprawling group of buildings it is clear no noble would willingly find the effort to walk so far through the grass and mud that they would reach the edge.


    In the largest of the great halls in Faireblot academy all the students have gathered with their parents to hear the acceptance speech from the great arch magus and 13th headmaster of Faireblot academy, Forte Cantwrite. The man stands and raises his hands causing the light in the room to focus on him. He bows to the royal family and then moves forward to the podium. It is a grand affair with beautifully crafted mana wood carved in the pattern of a bird in flight that could almost and probably literally could come alive. However, in the great hall with its enchanted stone arches and expectedly patterned space this does not stand out.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    The headmaster pauses and then speaks.¡± For all of those here today congratulations. You have all been accepted into one of the greatest establishments for learning and perfecting the magical arts in this kingdom and I am proud to announce that in the finals this year we came overall first in this country for the great tests and the wizz ball tournament.¡± He sighs as his tone become less enthusiastic,¡± for those of you who couldn¡¯t make the cut or are too young to attend I hope you study hard to be accepted next year.¡± He pauses once more ¡°On the subject of next year, by both my own influence and that of our king, we will be accepting a single commoner student among our ranks. For those who object I must inform you that this decision is final! It is being announced as we speak by the heralds. On that note I hope for your success and bid you all a fond farewell.¡± The headmaster leaves to the muttering of the nobles. He knows it is only the presence of the higher nobles that is keeping back pandemonium but he smiles. Finally, the huge amount of magical talent that before was wasted wasted may be harnessed. This is only the first step of many but the most important.


    Every great journey begins with a single step or in this case a single student. He secretly wondered who it may be.

 Chapter 1 ~ a childhood in the great eastern forest.

    I walk through my forest home along the well-trodden path stopping every once in a while, first at a birch and then a small twilight gourd bush covered in small veins of purple and unripe green fruit. Each time I pick a small rabbit and length of rope from the plant and re set the snare. It was a shame the twilight gourds are not yet ripe. They would be delicious. Those same veins of purple would expand to cover the whole plant softening the great delicacies and causing the leaves to become toxic.


    I notice a flash of pink and stop. Breathing deeply, I calm myself and take two steps back. Among the dried leaves of the forest floor I see a ring of tiny pink flowers each so delicate they could be ruined with a touch and a stark contrast to the robust pillars of wood supporting the canopy. These are fairy bloom. They only appear for one week a year and are essential for the enchantment of bonded weapons.


    With my heart pumping in my ears and three dead rabbits on my belt I dash through the forest, pouring more magical energy into my wind step spell. Excitement driving me faster and faster. The assortments of browns and greens merging with the occasional flashes of colour from the bright insects and plants I almost certainly know by name. turning sharply to avoid the blue feelers of a toxic bogshroom I continue.


    I have now seen twelve winters so I can finally go through the trials to obtain the soul blades of a ranger. It is silly that they are called that because even though they are all weapons they often don¡¯t have blades and the nice man who works in the book store told me the bonding enchantment did not have anything to do with a soul. The soul blades are important because they show a person has completed the ranger trials. With those their futures are secure because they can get a free pass to the rangers.


    I never wanted to be a ranger. I wouldn¡¯t mind the job but I always wanted something more. I was always fascinated with the study of how things worked and most of all magic. I wanted to become a mage and throw great balls of pretty rainbow coloured flames on my enemies or spend my time looking at how to make lives better with cleaning enchantments on rivers. I knew now that I would never have the chance. No academy would accept a half-breed nobody like me who lived in the woods his whole life. The rangers were the best way to go. Anyway, I was ok to stick to my two meagre spells for now. Besides owning the soul weapons didn¡¯t make you a ranger instantly, it just proved that you could if you wanted to.


    I finally see my house up ahead. It is a small log cabin with four rooms and just enough space for the three of us. The first thing my father taught me is that if what I owned was too much to carry it was too much for a ranger. We never needed any extra space.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    I approached my father. He looked up from sharpening his knife. It was his turn to cook today. He was always a kind man with a rough appearance and a series of scars I always thought looked awesome. He got them from his time in the military during one of the great orc wars. They also left him with a permanent sneer though I have never once seen him angry. His hair was a mottled brown that never seemed to stay down or sit still on his head just like mine, except his hair was beginning to show signs of grey where mine held streaks of green like the woodfolk.


    ¡°what have I told you about running like that?¡± he asks without a hint of scolding.


    ¡°the noise will alert any monsters that I am approaching and it only takes one well prepared goblin to kill me.¡± I replied. It was a lesson that had been drilled into me by both my parents and dangerously close calls with the sneaky critters. ¡°But I found some fairy bloom. Can¡¯t I be excited for once.¡±


    ¡°That is no excuse¡± my father responds¡± Go and get your mother and give me those rabbits you¡¯ve goth there you can leave with her after you have got some stew down you.¡± I smile, my father¡¯s stew is the best. I hand him the three rabbits as I begin to walk back to the forest I have called my home for so long. This time showing more caution and searching the area for tracks to reveal my mother¡¯s location.


    Five minutes later I have found her sitting in a tree, bow nocked and eyes riveted to the nearby game trail. She is a beautiful woman with the characteristic green tinted skin and hair of the woodfolk alongside their pointed ears. She does have a few light wrinkles from age but still supports her lithe athletic form that my father always claimed was the first thing he fell in love with. I try to sneak the last part of the distance to her seat but she notices. She almost always does. ¡°calling me back for stew today?¡± she similes towards me with a warm voice everyone likes.¡°yes¡± I respond turning as, catlike, my mother hopped down beside me.


    Listening to the call of the birds and the rustling of the lush greenery that surrounds me I marvel at my mother¡¯s soundless footsteps and then hear a crack. It is small but out of place in the sounds of the forest this far from the more frequented game trails. My mother seems to have heard it too because she is just as still as myself with her second soul blade, a throwing needle, prepared in her hand.


    A goblin rushes from the undergrowth letting out a tiny battle cry and raising its club before collapsing with a needle in its eye. The goblin is a runt. They are used to scavenge and scapegoat the goblin tribes and from the look of the half-starved little goblin it has been mistreated badly. Not that it wouldn¡¯t do the same if the positions were reversed. Killing the monster was the right thing to do, it had threatened our lives.


    Slowly we moved on, picking up the pace as we detect the scent of cooking stew. Sitting beside the small kitchen fire place with his hot meaty broth my father begins to fill the bowls with stew. As always it tastes amazing but even more so with the excitement thick in the air, around my mother the most. ¡°I am proud you decided to do the test this year. We leave in an hour; just remember everything we¡¯ve taught you and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll pass with flying colours. Our little ranger.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m thirteen years and twelve winters, hardly little mother.¡± I object


    ¡°our little ranger¡± she repeats with a smile.

 Chapter 2 ~ to the town

    In the end, we left in a little over half an hour. My father was not one for long farewells and we have everything we need for any journey in our rucksacks beside the bed. We were only ever forced to use them once when an angry drake chased an injured thunder hound into our house, but with the dangers all around us we expected to use them more often. Even outside of being security against the forest, the bags were useful for the long journeys to the nearest town we took occasionally for events like this and to sell our accumulated monster cores and furs.


    ¡°Come on,¡± called my mother as I wriggled back into my usual spider carapace armour that I had removed for lunch. I continued to walk swiftly, catching up with my mother just as we slipped among the trees and sped up to a fast jog. We had both powered up our windstep spells so we could run for the few hours until sun set.


    I had first made this journey only three years before and was fascinated by the world beyond the forest. I had discovered two new friends and opted to complete the journey every time my parents went to the town. The running was monotonous with only few quick fights with minor monsters like the goblins and spear bugs. Spear bugs are giant beetles with a single sharp horn. Some people think they are powerful but they have a lot of obvious weak spots and only attack by charging with their wings out to gain extra speed.


    Soon enough we reached our usual campsite. My legs had begun to complain and my back had begun to feel the strain of the heavy pack. The site was a small clearing surrounded by ghost wood trees. They had a curious appearance as though made of clouded glass and glowing softly. These trees had the curious effects of unsettling monsters and disappearing if cut down. Nobody knew what, if anything happens to the dead ghost wood but that trait is what gave it its name.


    I set off away from the ghost wood grove to find firewood. It would be dark in only a few hours and we needed to eat. Along the way I gathered some onion and sweetroot that would be grilled with the last of the rabbit for a small meal. At one point, I heard a tremendous roar and climbed a tree to see the cause.


    Among the flow of endless greenery, broken by patches of browns, blues, reds and purples two great beasts roared at each other clashing in a flurry of claws, teeth and blood. They were orons, huge tusked reptilian creatures built like boars. The usually gentle giants only became like this when provoked or mating. I assumed it was the latter because as they finally tumbled into the trees one moved away revealing another who had been motionless before. The great forest had consumed mountains, leaving only vague undulations in the tree line, it was easy to see how such a creature could hide from those so far away.


    Hopping down from my perch I grabbed my pile of firewood and moved back to camp. My mother had finished collecting water and setting the tents. Approaching the small fire pit left from our previous stays I organised the wood and withdrew a flint stone from a miniature pouch next to my knife. After three strikes I had a flame that would catch and I began to prepare the food. A few precise cuts neatly divided the vegetables and filleted the already skinned rabbit. It was then speared on a long steel pine branch. We would eat soon I thought as my stomach added to my bodies demands for rest.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    It was time to use my second spell, cordon of arrows, that allowed me to protect a space for eight hours by causing specific objects to fly at anything that entered the area who I did not mark as a friend. My mother was also setting up non-magical traps but it was good to have both options. With my secret desire to become a mage I insisted upon using my two spells as often as possible.


    We ate in silence before dousing the flames and crawling to bed. With the small comfort of my mother¡¯s proximity I fell asleep.


    <hr>


    With the light of dawn filling the inside of the tent with a soft orange glow I awoke. Stretching I rub my eyes putting some spit on the lids to prevent the pain in my eyes from the sudden change in light; it was a trick I learned through trial and error. Yawning in slide out of my furs rolling them and placing them in my bag. Crawling out of the tent I look upon the clearing. It had been covered in dew during the night and the whole place from the wet grass to the translucent ghost wood trees seemed on fire with the dawn light. Grabbing a handful of nuts and dried food from my pack I ate quickly. For us breakfast was a small meal. With the large amounts of exercise required for daily life in the great forest, a large breakfast never settled correctly.


    Getting up from her seat and looking at me, mother said ¡°I heard they added a combat test to the ranger trials.¡± I nodded at her, removing the pack from my back. My father had introduced sparing after I memorised the basic forms he learned in the military. The rules were no causing injury and first to three touches wins. They always attacked first. ¡°You should not attack a person first, besides, the first strike is the easiest so you need to learn what happens afterwards¡± was how my father explained it.


    Springing forth my mother struck with a series of quick jabs, which I stepped back to block, followed by a sweeping high kick. I ducked the kick, stepping to the side and countering with my own flurry of jabs. We jump back, casting wind step and speeding up. Every movement became instinctive. There was no time to think. Suddenly, the flow of battle is interrupted as I score a touch to her retreating forehead just in time to notice the foot in my stomach.


    I had been baited I thought as I was tossed over her by the momentum of her fall and the foot in my chest. She continued her role landing on top of me to score her three touches. This was what I expected. Despite her somewhat dainty looks she was tough enough to withstand a lifetime in a forest many bandits avoided.


    There had only been twice I had won against her. Both times I got some help in distracting her mid fight. I had never won against father. ¡°Don¡¯t over-reach and try to be more wary of a retreating foe.¡± she instructs holding out her hand for me.¡± but you should be able to survive the test.¡± I take her hand and get up, wiping myself off. We take down the tent and she takes it whilst I adjust my shirt placing my armour over the top.


    Still aching a little, we set off again at a quick jog. Just like the last time we have an un eventful trip. We still met the odd monster and had to change course around a drake, a relative of the dragons, the undisputed kings of the forest. Drakes are weaker than dragons but still stronger than a wyvern on the ground and not something we want to fight.


    Finally, we burst from the last parts of the undergrowth onto a small trail that leads onto a road bound for Guendon, the frontier town with walls only rivalled by forts, the capital and the walled city to the south. It is important for trade and thrives off the flow of resources from the great forest. The town also happens to be one of a few places that host the ranger tests. That can, for some, determine their future. This is what I am here for.

 Chapter 3 ~ Friends and rangers

    ¡°Ellaria!¡± a large and cheery woman calls out to us as we approach the gate. She had been playing cards with some of the off-duty guards on a large empty barrel next to the gate but was now running towards us. Almost withoutstopping she scoops us both into a huge hug causing the two guards by the gate to laugh. My mother had a reputation for being an ice queen from even before she had met my father but I was sure it was her grimace at being hugged by the shorter woman that caused their laughter. Even I giggled a little despite knowing she might stretch the¡± no injury¡± rule next time we spared.


    We quickly got waved through the gate and into the city with a few last glares at the smiling guards. ¡°I¡¯ll go and sell some fur and those monster cores in the market. You can go and see your friends.¡± She says to me, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small pouch¡± take this for anything you may need.¡± The pouch contains two silvers five coppers and eight reds. Reds are small alloy coins coloured red. They had the lowest value of all coins. Everything in this pouch could feed a poor man for most of a week and a rich man for a minute. We rarely used these coins but still collected them, so despite our humble lifestyle we were by no means poor.


    Walking away from the main road, I began to navigate the twisting backroads of the city. I am by no means familiar with them, but I know this one rout. I had gotten entirely lost in these once which is how I met my friends. I will soon reach my destination, a shop. The place came into view sparkling clean but had clearly seen better days. Above the door a faded sign, proudly decorated with flowing text and the picture of a book proclaims the store Iscor¡¯s. It was run by my two friends Henry and Cameron Iscor. Opening the door, I am greeted by a polite boy who I have never met before. ¡°welcome to Iscor¡¯s store of the written arts.¡± he says proudly, bowing to me.¡± how may I help you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to see Henry if I could¡± I reply with an identical bow in his direction just as I see someone walk through the door behind him. ¡°Nathan! That is my friend I told you about¡± the two people had the same golden skin often seen in the great desert country to the west combined with the same golden hair. I always thought it made them look like the beautiful statues they put in the lord¡¯s home but they were often insulted for it. ¡°Cameron!¡± I call as we clasp arms at the elbow, a traditional western greeting. ¡°How are you doing?¡± he asks.


    ¡°I¡¯m dying with excitement!¡± I reply smiling.


    ¡°and you¡¯re smiling, it must be a symptom.¡± He responds with deadly seriousness placing his hand on my forehead as we burst into hysterics. ¡°Come and sit down. Do you want a cup of our famous house blend?¡± he continues as we settle down. ¡°You know I do. who is Nathan? Did you scoop him off the street?¡± I probe my friend with a few questions. After a short giggle, he says ¡°you don¡¯t beat around the bush, do you? We were doing quite well so we decided to hire a door-boy. Nathan was a perfectly good choice and, besides, he needed the job.¡±


    This was one of the boys that found me and taught me how to read and write for free. They also shared my passion for mage craft but had no talent. They could never become mages without expensive elixirs to open their mana channels, something outside of their means to purchase, not that it would mean much without a proper magical education. The other was Henry and from the looks of things he was absent.


    ¡°So, you are here for the rangers¡¯ trials. I saw some of the competition and if even a few of them are succeeding, then I am sure you will.¡± He says ¡°good luck tomorrow.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report itGetting up I reply, ¡°Thanks, but I think you should get back to that shop before a customer comes in.¡± then we separate and I begin to walk towards the front of the store and then remember something. ¡°Cameron!¡± I call back to him, scrambling through my pack. ¡°I almost forgot, here is that rush-weed you asked for last time¡± I threw him a small pouch. ¡°Now you can finish that map you have been scribbling.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± He shouts back as I walk away swinging the pack back onto my back. Time to meet some other trainee rangers for the first time.


    <hr>


    I run fast towards the rangers¡¯ guild, weaving through the wood and stone maze of the city. It would not be hard to find it as it is close to the gate we entered by. I also never expected the trials would start tomorrow. I thought we may have had at least a week in the city first. I hiss in annoyance. I would not be able to enact my incredible plan to gather hints on the exam and friends among the other participants. I would also not have much time to spend with Henry and Cameron. It could not be helped I would have to face the unknowns alone.


    Ahead of me I see the rangers¡¯ guild. It is a small discreet building set into the outer wall, built of the same messy but solid looking stonework mixed with wood of the buildings surrounding it. Finding it would almost be the first challenge if it were not so easy to find someone happy to tell you the way. Approaching the building causes makes me tremble with the excitement and a fear. Opening the solid oak door would lead me to the unknown. Another step down the path I have been on my whole life.


    It creaked open to a slightly dim interior that was clearly larger than it appeared on the outside. ¡°It must have been built into the wall,¡± I think to myself amazed at the craftsmanship that would allow such a simple looking building to support even a portion of the weight of such a wall. In the room, there was a single desk and a few doors leading to the nearby buildings. At the desk sat a man. He was strange, with gaunt features, supporting a pair of elegant spectacles and deathly pale skin. His nails ended in points and clicked against the wood of his desk whilst his undivided attention was fixed to the book he was scribbling in.


    As I am unsure how to approach such a man I decide to stand where I am until his attention wavers from his work. I stood for some time before he stopped, stretching, with a pleased expression that contrasts so violently with his appearance it makes me giggle. He jumps back with surprise evident on his face straight into his chair which simply gives way, leaving him on the floor with his legs waving in the air. It is so funny I switch from simply giggling to full blown hysterics. ¡°Don¡¯t laugh!¡± he calls, still struggling. ¡±help me!¡± I walk forwards and push his chair upright, still laughing. ¡°what are you doing here.¡± he demands, trying to appear stern but dignified. ¡°I¡¯m here to apply for the trials.¡± I tell him honestly. ¡°you¡¯re a bit late but I can sign you up.¡± He states with a matter of fact tone muttering something under his breath about children.


    ¡°Do you have anything to identify yourself with?¡± he asks, peering down at me over the place his glasses would be were they not on the floor behind him. I fumble through my pockets and draw out my birth coin. It is something that gives conformation of the age and identity of the wearer whilst identifying them as out of bounds for slavers, not that it would stop one. ¡°hmph¡± the man responds quickly noting something down in his book. ¡°you are allowed to attempt the trials. Until they start tomorrow, you will be staying here, 3rd door on the left. You may not leave this building without risk of disqualification. Also, a piece of advice, in return for your silence on what happened just now: don¡¯t get too comfortable, you will regret it in the morning. Sleep light.¡±


    I almost feel that I misheard the last part as I grabbed my bag and followed his bony finger to one of the doors. Suddenly, I remembered how my mother had not told me where we would be staying this evening. ¡°She knew!¡± I cried out in my mind.

 Chapter 4 ~ The Trials (part 1)

    Walking further into the guild I realise I am inside the building next to it. A herbalist and greengrocer if I was not mistaken. He probably benefits greatly from the rare or unusual plants brought back from the forest by rangers wanting to earn a small amount on the side. As I approach the room I was assigned I hear some small sobs through the door. This was it I would meet my first companion or competition. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.


    On the other side, I see a man who is obviously no ranger. He looks more like a mating bird in their brightest plumage. If he weren¡¯t here I would never have expected him to be taking the test. I may as well talk to him. Looks can be deceiving after all. ¡°Hi¡± I say quietly, feeling a little nervous. He looks up, wiping the tears from his eyes. ¡°will you talk to me?¡± he asks in a pleading voice. ¡°ok.¡± I reply.


    After that he bursts into a rendition of his life story. As it turns out, looks weren¡¯t deceiving. The man was the unwanted third son of a merchant and liked to think of himself as a poet, actor and playwright. He was not bad at it. It was just he had little to no support in those endeavours. In the end his father had forced him into trying other paths of life, none he had shown any talent or enthusiasm for, so here he was. As it turns out, he found rangers gave little in the way of conversation and he had been there for a week, so he was bored to literal tears. I enjoyed the conversation. He was witty and likeable, adding additional emotion and drama to spice up even the most boring parts of the story and tales the most mundane occasions. I also found it fascinating. I had no idea that merchants and nobles were so complex. I had never even heard of a promotion ball or knighting ceremony but now I wanted to visit one, just for the experience.


    ¡°So that is the story of Macias (may-see-ass)!¡± he exclaims finally, giving a quick bow. ¡°what about you?¡±


    ¡°My life is pretty simple.¡± I begin. ¡°I grew up in a cabin deep in the great eastern forest. We lived off the land and I was trained as a ranger by my parents. We had a few rough times and a few interesting ones, but mostly it was just a constant repetition of the routine.¡±


    ¡°what!¡± he shouted seeming shocked ¡°I heard it was impossible to live in the great eastern forest and that even this close is dangerous. Tell. Me. Everything.¡± His voice was taking on the screeching quality I had learned to associate with excitement so I decided to tell him more. We talked until almost an hour after nightfall before going to sleep and I made sure to set a trap or two, as well as a cordon of arrows linked to a few scattered stones. I hadn¡¯t forgotten the thin man¡¯s warning as I fell asleep.


    BANG! ¡°SCUP!¡± a man¡¯s voice echoes through the room, jolting me from sleep. The man had called out one of the worse swearwords that I am aware of. It seems he didn¡¯t like the traps I had set. I see him dangling at the foot of my bed, a wooden knife is on the floor and he is covered in both red marks from the stones as well as water that was leaking from the big hide water bottle on his waste.


    Macias was shuffling around, slowly entering wakefulness whilst I was already up and armed with the knife in my boot. I got dressed quickly and walked up to the man. ¡°What were you doing here?¡± I asked him. ¡°This was the first test.¡± He replied. ¡°And you are the only pair I can say have passed with a top score the first time around, in all my memory. Now let me down. I must give the others a prank and jab. That is, if they don¡¯t wake up or, set traps like you did.¡± I untie his ankles and look closer at the man. He was old, but not so much that you could not see his youth. His eyes, in particular held a mischievous glint. His clothes held quite a few pockets and hooks. The equipment contained in them made me realise the consequences that failing the test would have been unpleasant to say the least. ¡°Go and continue your testing¡± I told him.


    ¡°Good,¡± he replied. ¡°Go to the breakfast hall in ten minutes. Any later and you will have forfeited the trials. You only have to succeed in two more of these and the final trial to pass now. This may give you an edge against those other first timers. Good luck!¡±


    I am already up, dressed and ready to go but my new friend is still asleep in those ridiculously thin clothes he insisted on sleeping in. I shake him awake violently and tell him with urgency ¡°get dressed and out of the room immediately because we need to get down stairs in 10 minutes!¡± I found it amazing what that man did with those ten minutes. He got dressed in his ridiculous clothes, styled his hair, washed his hands and face and still found time to neatly reorganise his bag before leaving and appearing with me in the hall just on time.


    Another group consisting of two obvious city people. Approaches the room not 20 seconds after us. ¡°WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!¡± shouts the ranger in charge of the next trial. Despite his huge muscle bound body and voice the man moves with an unnatural grace and silence. He seems to be just as skilled as the one that got past the door traps in our room but of a very different personality. ¡°YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE 15 SECONDS AGO! BOTH OF YOU ARE DISQUALIFIED AND ARE TO LEAVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.¡± The two scramble away towards the exit. They both look a little ashamed.


    ¡°AS FOR THE REST OF YOU!¡± the ranger continues. ¡°YOU ALL MAY HAVE PASSED THE LAST TEST OR FAILED IT¡± his eyes fall on those who are manically scratching and wet around the groin ¡°BUT ALL OF YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED! TAKE PRETTY BOY HERE! LOOKS LIKE HE HAD A MAKEOVER AND CATNAP IN THE TIME YOU WERE SCRAMBLING OUT OF BED! AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT THE NEW BOY WAS RUNNING ALL DAY YESTERDAY AND STILL TURNED UP MORE PERKY THAN YOU LAYABOUTS!¡± this is bad. It is never good to have an instructor like you especially when others are irritable like now. Even my minimal interactions with humanity has taught me that. I noticed at least a few glares in my direction.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°NOW, YOUR NEXT TEST WILL BE TO MAKE BREAKFAST TO PREPARE YOU FOR THE DAY! BEHIND ME ARE YOUR INGREDIENTS! TO PASS, THE MEAL MUST BE EDIBLE AND FILLING! BUT I EXPECT GORMET WITH ENOUGH LEFT OVER FOR ME!¡± he pauses. ¡°WELL! YOUR INGREDIENTS ARE ON THE TABLE! BEGIN!¡± with that the everyone starts towards the table. There is a small fight over some of the simpler ingredients as there is not nearly enough of them for even a quarter of us. I have now finally realised what Camron was talking about yesterday. Only a few showed any talent as a ranger by the wat they moved or acted. I also noticed that among the simple layout of the test in a bare room filled with ample firewood, cooking utensils and pits alongside a single table stacked with plants and foods there was a lot of well-planned complications. Immediately I noticed that a few of the ingredients were those that contained weak poisons and horrible tastes. No one would die, but some may end up with stomach cramps later or an inedible meal now. It was no accident that this test was one of the first.


    I approach the already looted table and pick up all I would need for a decent stew. It would not be as good as my dad¡¯s but it should be respectable enough to complete the challenge with reasonable merit. Turning back to the room I notice that all the fires had been taken so I head towards the only one who looks willing to share. Macias. As I come closer I see he is just about to light his fire. Something is wrong with the wood though. I stop his hand and whisper forcefully ¡°that¡¯s oleander. It produces poisonous smoke if burnt.¡± I then switch the offending log with a more innocent counterpart. This was no simple task. ¡°Thanks,¡± he responds. I grab a cooking pot and knife then we begin to cook.


    As it turns out he was far better at this than me. He claims it is because he had just been kicked out of the apprentice position in the lord¡¯s kitchen for insubordination and idling before this. I passed. My stew was certainly edible, healthy and filling but Macias aced the test. He is not even close to being called a ranger but is doing better than me so far. I secretly hoped that wasn¡¯t the case by the end. Only five of the 24 participants failed and only one had failed so badly he had to leave. Two more had failed both tests so were also out. However, I expect that the last two and some successful cooks would be suffering the effects of sub-par cooking and oleander smoke as the day went on.


    The third trial is one of stealth. We were guided through a door and down a rope ladder to the outside of the city to a small farm. From distant shouted instructions, we had to get a scroll each from the farmhouse in the centre of the field, without being caught and move it back to the wall. If we were tagged or did not get the scroll we would fail. I had done this type of training with my parents many times. I should be able to succeed.


    Crouching in the tall grass I stalk towards the structure, staying low and silent. Almost everyone else had gone for the same approach but without any precision or real stealth. Suddenly one of the noisiest ones cry out and stand up straight above the grass. He was clearly caught. The instructor was in the grass with us. It was then I noticed Macias. He is casually walking along the path ignoring all pretence of stealth. I could tell from his confident posture that he had come up with a plan but I thought this was a stealth game so I couldn¡¯t think what his plan may be. By the time I got close to the house a nice line of over half the competitors were out. Not Macias though. He had turned and is still just strolling casually down the path towards the house. The grass had become far quieter now.


    Looking at the house I thought about how I could get inside unnoticed. There was a chimney, a door and two open shutters as the obvious points of entry. From peering through the shutters, I notice the two rooms inside. One contains a bed and the other a fire and some chairs. I know there to be a third room because there is a spare door and space unaccounted for. There is also someone inside the house just out of sight.


    The first brave soul crept towards the house. He was accompanied by another. They had passed both other tests and looked like they knew what to expect. Nodding to each other they simultaneously began to climb through the shutters. One of the two with black hair and simple clothing immediately dashed away, chased by an angry looking old woman. Despite her age and small stature, she was fast; faster than the young man anyway. He was caught. Meanwhile, the other was on his way back out, cloaked in green and hidden by the grass with a scroll in hand. He had succeeded. I see the woman return and realise that the person in the grass is no longer a threat. It is time to make my own move. I creep around the house to the back and climb up onto the roof. I position myself in a place where I can quickly enter any of the entrances if needed. I would wait for my chance. Seeing the previous success another group tries the same but the woman is closer to the window this time and tags the first boy immediately with the second leaving through the door with an embarrassed expression. There should be about 6 left in the grass and Macias.


    Macias is the one to make the next move. He knocks politely on the door and is answered by the old woman. I hold my breath thinking he would be caught but he isn¡¯t. ¡°hello dear,¡± the woman begins holding out her hand for a more eastern handshake. ¡°Good morning. Sorry, but it would be disrespectful to shake the hand of my elder¡± Macias responds holding out one of the filled buns he had made that morning. I said that his cooking was incredible. ¡°please have this. You look like you haven¡¯t eaten this morning¡± he speaks with a bow. Soon the old woman and clearly ex-ranger ushers him in. He had not been touched yet so he was still in the game and they had given me my opportunity.


    I crept down off the roof and through the bed room window. The sounds of conversation masking the minute creak of my weight shifting between floorboards. I quickly moved into the final room. Inside there was a single desk and chair. The desk was covered in scrolls. Which one should I take, I thought to myself. The scrolls were all marked with insignia that varied from one to another and a few were labelled. Sifting through them I found most were boring personal letters but one or two seemed important. Suddenly one caught my eye. It was among some messages sent to the cities crier. A letter with two crests upon it. One of the king and the other of Faireblot academy. Another smaller scroll, slipped out of it. It had the same insignia and was labelled ¡°To give as proof of recommendation.¡± It was addressed to the lord.


    Brimming with excitement he grabbed the two. One on display and the other tucked deep inside his safest pouch.

 Chapter 5 ~ the trials (part 2)

    I turn back towards the door as it opens, revealing three others in the room besides this. All of them producing an excess of noise and moving very slowly in an attempt to reduce that. The third one apparently had his leg caught in the shutter. He was the only man in the group. I want to facepalm but I have to leave as soon as possible. Who knows when my friend in the other room will end his dangerous conversation.


    The boy finally breaks free and tumbles to the floor in such a way that I wouldn¡¯t doubt he was carrying a full orchestra and had smashed every instrument. It was little wonder that it caused the old lady to dash from the other room. The boy had no chance. He was tagged immediately. The rest ran. Only one of the two girls had a scroll. She was the neater of the two with sharper features and a slightly lighter shade of my own brown hair. Fortunately for her she was faster so unlike her companion made it to the grass. She was still caught but her smug smile and the lack of a scroll when tagged showed she knew she would be.


    I was the fastest of the group and am running from the woman. I have to out-run her and can think of only one way. I cast haste.


    Suddenly, I gain a burst of speed.


    I am moving faster than her.


    I would make it.


    Unfortunately, it seems the one who sprung up and grabbed me had other ideas. I remembered him from the hall. He was standing alone in the dining hall and, with his raven black hair and inflated features, seemed to show the most obvious distaste for the favour of the instructor. I am so close, only a dozen more steps from my goal. I feel it is over as I struggle free of my saboteur.


    The old lady had run back. Aiming to head off the final trainee as she dashes to the cabin. I am sure she will make it. I dash the final few steps to safety and then notice that my scroll was taken during the scuffle. I turn once more to face the trainee who took it from me. ¡°Give it back!¡± I shout moving to prevent him from crossing the safe line. ¡°make me.¡± He replies smugly, his oversized nose distorting his voice to be higher and more winey. He literally asked for it, I think as I dash forwards, flipping to put my legs either side of his head. An instant later he is in a headlock and I have the scroll. I let him flail about and hit me before I disengage and move past the safe line scroll in hand. He was not hurt badly but I am sure he didn¡¯t enjoy the fall and the feeling of helplessness that came from being in the lock.


    I cursed myself for my over-confidence. He was far less sneaky than a goblin and a lapse like that could have cost me my life in the great eastern forest. It was a bad way to go about the task but I wouldn¡¯t hold it against him. It was never against the rules in any case. A short while later Macias came out of the house, gave one last bow to the old lady and left back down the road. We all watch in either awe or anger as he performs a stylish jig of delight. Scroll in hand. I¡¯m just about to warn him of the black-haired boy but then I notice some movement in the grass. Something big is approaching him. From his expression as he walks back towards the line empty handed I assume it was our instructor.


    A moment after Macias finally crosses the safe line my suspicion is confirmed. A large man springs up from the grass. He is slightly on the larger size with a distinctive white moustache. A few of us are obviously a little shocked that the current town crier is a ranger. ¡°well done,¡± he says in the well-spoken and clear voice familiar to all those that decide to listen to the kingdoms key events. ¡°you got quite a few more of those scrolls than I was expecting. I can see you are all wondering what I am doing as an examiner here. Both myself and my wife were rangers. Now she is a scribe and I¡¯m sure you all know what I am. This means that every document you stole is the genuine article. Even if you only helped to get one you passed. However, for all those that successfully escaped with a scroll, you can have a bonus award of reading its contents or having them read to you if you are illiterate.¡± I am burning with excitement as I gently peel off the wax seals of the king and academy. For me, they are priceless treasures. I wrap them and pocket them before slowly unravelling the message.


    It reads:


    To the esteemed crier,


    On behalf of Faireblot academy I am pleased to announce that we will be accepting a single student from outside the usual student body of the rich and noble in the year after the sending of this letter. With the basic requirements: capability to read and write, basic talent in magic and a reasonable personality, I request that you select a few candidates for this position for final testing in the western capital.


    The candidates will be identified by letters of recommendation sent to arrive at a similar time to this message. We are planning to accept more of such students in future years as we gain further backing from the king bare this in mind. I ask you consult your lord on the exact nature of the announcement. However, we still wish for the general population to be made aware of this development so expect some announcement to be made in this regard.


    Thank you for your service


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.Headmaster Cantwrite


    Now in a small fit of excitement, I realise the importance of my other message. this is what I have been waiting for my whole life a chance to learn the great magics. A chance to become one of those that can change lives with a few magic words and the wave of a hand.


    I know where I will go after the trials are over and my spirit weapons have been bonded to me. I will head to the capital and try for a chance of mage craft. If I fail I will have a life as a ranger waiting for me. I will lose nothing.


    The old man collects our scrolls and directs us to the next test location verbally. I assume that his slightly dodgy directions are a part of the trials and take off with the rest of the group falling in step with Macias after we hit the ground inside the wall. ¡°what did you do to get a scroll and what was it?¡± I asked. ¡°I told her my story.¡± He replies smiling. ¡°a shortened version of course. She gave me a recommendation with a travelling performer¡¯s caravan that she rescued many years ago and is still close to. I finally have a backer and a place to go that my father can¡¯t block me from. But I will have to leave of course.¡±


    ¡°I got a message from the crier. Faireblot magic academy is opening its doors to a single commoner. It may be me. I just need to get all the way to the capital so maybe we will not be separated so soon anyway.¡± I had told him about my dreams of becoming a mage and for us that previous trial may have been the best thing to have ever happened to us.


    We continued to follow the instructions with only one or two wrong turns. It turns out that his reference to a statue of a golden lion referred to a man who carved miniatures and when he said ¡°a shrine¡± he meant the holy goblet pub. We finally approach the final waypoint and our destination. A wooden door with large brass bolts holding it together. In front of this door sat a woman, standing up at our approach. She was younger than many of our previous instructors. She was easily identifiable as a priestess by her pure white robes broken only by the black hems and wide blue belt long enough to leave tassels almost touching the ground and so wide it prevented the free-flowing nature of the robe from hiding her figure. I saw some of the older men looking at her in a clearly lustful way.


    ¡°Macias?¡± she turned towards him ¡°I¡¯m afraid that after your apprenticeship it is clear I should fail you here. Is that ok?¡± I had heard about this. He had, of course been apprenticed to the healers¡¯ complex but it turns out he has a serious fear of any injury larger than a minor cut on someone else. A fear that caused him to disrupt and complicate a surgical procedure and throw up in the wound in question, causing an infection. The worst part was it was a fear he never knew he had. ¡°that¡¯s ok.¡± He replied siting down on the now vacant step. The rest of us headed into the market part of the medical complex.


    The healers¡¯ complex is one of the larger buildings in the city and is responsible for its health. It has four parts. The living quarters for healers, priests, priestesses and long stay patients. This is only for those with nowhere better to stay or those who are so keen on their job they feel they can¡¯t afford to spend time away in case of a crisis of some kind that overburdens the main part of the complex, the hospital. For medicine, there is the market. It sells everything a patient may need and is all verified to be actual healing application by a healer of the complex. The final part is a temple for those who are religious or close to death. The hospital proceedings can be extremely stressful, especially when a loved one has a 50% chance of surviving an amputation that is unavoidable. It is the job of the temple to, even in only a small way try to relieve that stress.


    The market is teeming with both life and the shadows of death as we receive our instruction. ¡°With this final exam we will be testing to see if you know what to do about the minor stuff. Cuts, burns, bruises, poisoning, illness and maybe even a minor breakage. None of what you heal will be too serious, just bad enough to warrant the attention of a healing hand. I will oversee your actions so you don¡¯t kill anyone. To succeed you must use those healers¡¯ tokens I gave you to pay for medical treatments for these. The merchants have mostly been informed of this test so will probably avoid giving you hints. Your money is limited so you can¡¯t just buy a huge number of magical cure-alls and use those on everything. You must then use these herbs to heal the injured for half an hour.¡±


    With this we left to do just that. I stocked up on the basics that I could easily identify despite the plants I knew from the forest changing form from the drying process and the products using strange extra ingredients that changes their appearance from the mixtures we made in the forest. I bought some wood for splints in the event of a break, clean cloth for cutting circulation, dressing a wound or tying the splint and basic medicines, antiseptics and creams for the rest. I noticed one or two looking confused at the mass of different medical herbs and their different purposes.


    Another was muttering to a friend that he was hoping for a combat trial like last time. In the end we regroup now mostly confident with just under half of our original number having left during the previous trials. We seem to be mostly those both prepared and expecting these trials. We are led into the main building to a medium sized room over half full, with seated patients in need of attention, not urgently but still obviously holding injuries of various kinds. ¡°go help them.¡± The priestess said, ¡°you have half an hour.¡±


    I moved among them targeting unattended patients with the most serious injuries first before approaching the more minor wounds. It was a tactic I saw similarly employed by my companions. By the end of the half hour only three of our number were relieved for incompetence and a fourth by a sudden bout of food poisoning, I am amazed he had gotten this far after poisoning himself. This left the final group to consist of 9 people. First are the two girls who had teamed up to use Macias as a distraction and the third who had waited until the end. The remaining boys are Macias, the people that took the initiative on the stealth challenge and finally the jealous black haired boy. I am the youngest of the group by what seems to be at least a few years.


    ¡°you have all passed!¡± the priestess seems excited. ¡°Now, it is getting to the end of the day. You will choose your weapons tomorrow! Go back to the rangers¡¯ guild for the night. Have fun next week!¡±

 Chapter 6 ~ Soul blades

    Meeting with Macias and slowly walking back to the room we talk about what type of weapons our spirit weapons will be. It seems clear his choice will be entirely based on appearance. For me on the other hand I have no idea. I have always had misgivings about killing despite never hesitating and knowing that it was necessary in the forest so I want them to ideally be weapons that can be used either to kill or protect myself but not kill. I need to decide on three, a melee weapon, midrange weapon and a long ranged weapon.


    For a melee ranged weapon, the beat choice would be something like a club but that would be too heavy, so I have no idea. For a midrange weapon, I know I would go for some kind of sling because that is what I am best with and it fulfils my requirements. Finally, for a long ranged weapon, for lack of a better option at the moment I am forced to go for a bow.


    Crawling into my bed I toss down a quick cordon of arrows. The mental strain from the action taxes my brain enough to drain me of conciousness until tomorrow...


    <hr>


    The next morning, I awoke with the sun as always. I could hear little movement in the building or outside, nor did I expect to. In the city, I found most people wake up quite late. This was fine by me I still had to wonder about my choice. Without the help of a mage it would be impossible to break the soul bond enchantment on the weapons. It was only because a few mages owed their lives to the ranger¡¯s guild that it could get the enchantments in the first place.


    I wander through the halls towards the eating room now taking in the rest of the hallway. Several maps sat in frames on the wood and stone patchwork walls. They were among the oil lamps and the odd works of art that made up for the buildings lack of windows, clearly a result of the guild being situated primarily bordering the city wall and the buildings on the street.


    I reach the breakfast hall see the fire pits from the second trial were blocked in by what is probably the stack of firewood we used. The table had been moved to take up a central position in the hall and is occupied by at least five people from the voices I hear. ¡°So who do you think did the best.¡±


    ¡°The angry one with the black hair, Nathanial. He showed ruthless resourcefulness that is always useful with our least savoury work.¡± I felt slightly annoyed by that. Nathanial, as I now knew he was called had clearly underestimated me for being smaller than him and never had any real skill.


    ¡°I think we can say my son did the best, even accounting from my obvious bias.¡± I stop. I know she was a ranger but I didn¡¯t realise she would be a part of the process. I listen a little longer.


    ¡°I would agree that he was the best individually but being raised in the middle of the woods was in no way good for his teamwork. Both, the croft sisters and the two from the year before last did better in that regard.


    ¡°If the tasks were even a challenge for him he would probably have been more willing to team up with the others. I think he is probably here by now anyway.¡± I see some shadows move on the wall near the entrance to the room and my mother¡¯s voice call me in. I enter.


    ¡°good morning.¡± I say. They each respond with their own greeting as I take a bowl of a ranger stew. I take a spoon full and notice that someone had added their own twist to the recipes I have tried. It is almost as good as my father¡¯s, almost. I look around at those gathered at the table. They include the clerk from the entrance, the muscle-bound ranger from the food trial, the small older ranger from the first trial, my mother and a blonde stranger with bushy eyebrows set in a permanent dark scowl that contrasts his otherwise pale complexion.


    They mostly seem to be responding well to my presence. ¡°I am going to be helping with the choice of weapons today. you should probably not refer to me as mother. That would leave bad impressions. Understood¡± she smiles at me. I nod in response and turn to the muscle-bound ranger. ¡°so what kind of weapon are you hoping for?¡±


    ¡°A 160 pound draw longbow with arrows for 25, 30 and 35 inch draw so I can get some extra out of it if needed, for the long range and a sling, probably the adaptable split end slings they use in the southern mountain kingdoms, for the mid-range weapon. I have no idea for the melee.¡± I respond.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    To my amazement, the blonde ranger begins to look even more angry. ¡°With arms like his there is no way he could use that bow and a sling, seriously, that is basically a toy! Go for the smaller 60 pound bows and some knives or something.¡±


    The old man speaks up in my defence. ¡°the boy clearly knows what he is doing. Let him demonstrate that he can use his weapons properly and we can give them to him.¡±


    ¡°Thankyou.¡± I nod to the old man.


    For about another hour we hold idle conversation until the various prospective rangers trickle into the hall for breakfast. They talk in excited whispers amongst themselves. One or two ask about my choice and I answer in the same way as I did with the instructors. They offer some advice on possible choices on the short ranged weapons but it didn¡¯t help.


    As Macias finally sits next to me the angry instructor clears his throat loudly to call us to attention. ¡°Good morning. We are here on the final part of the trials. We are here to help you come to a reasonable decision in regards to your choice of soul blades¡± he glares at me during his short speech. The old man steps forwards. ¡°with that in mind, lets go to the toybox. Follow me¡± and we do.


    Crossing the entire length of the ranger¡¯s guild and entering a cellar, we step out into a simple room. The walls are lined with weapons of all description and their training counter parts. There is also a simple sandpit with a sparing circle and some targets at one end. Probably to try out said weapons. ¡°we will first decide on our shorter ranged weapons and move to the bows later. They need farther targets than we can fit in here. LET¡¯S GET STARTED!¡± with the exception of myself and Macias everyone starts to run about swinging various things around to get a feel for them. Most already knew the general type of weapon they would choose and are just testing out the specifics. Macias was just looking around. He would always gravitate to the best-looking sets of equipment despite that annoying instructor telling him over and over again to go for something more practical. I am glad that he was asked by the black-haired boy for help which he gladly provided. Surprisingly, I feel he has redeemed himself.


    I don¡¯t browse. I just walk straight for the slings and pick up the exact one I want. It is a woven rope that flattens out in the centre like those used by the southern mountain kingdom¡¯s (look up the Incan slings for image that is what I am picturing.) but this one is reinforced by thin strips of metal and leather. It has a slit in the larger part of the sling that allows the stone to escape the pouch in the event of a sudden increase in pressure but this is stiff enough to prevent the stone from leafing when the momentum is being built up in preparation. I place a single stone in the end and with a single swing send the stone whizzing through the air and leaving a dent in the wooden supports behind the bullseye of the target. This is perfect.


    For my melee soul blade, I look around and my eyes fall on something I never even considered: a set of arm guards. They are pieces of armour but will easily enhance punches elbow strikes and backhand fists whilst leaving the possibility of open hand fighting. Most importantly, they offer protection from strikes as well. I approach and pick them up. They are well made and forged from a strange but clearly strong alloy. They are mostly undecorated and yet beautiful. The only flair being a circle with four simple leaf patterns fanning out from the centre. Unlike some of the weapons in the armoury these seem unmarred. I rub some loose sand from the pattern and to my surprise it turns causing a short blade to spring out of the end of the foremost plate and a sharp ridge to appear along the outside of the arm guard. This would easily be deadly. I notice some boots as well, also reinforced by plates of the same alloy. They also have the pattern on them. I turn it and spikes appear on the soles whilst blades appear on the front and back. I turn the pattern the other way and all the blades retract leaving simple reinforced arm and footwear. I grab both and string them on my new sling which I tie around my waist like a belt. I am the first to have made my choices.


    The next two are the two boys that took the initiative in the stealth challenge. The last to finish is Macias. The two boys both got identical sets of darts and daggers, the black haired boy got a short sword and set of throwing knives, the three girls got a mace and atiati, a whip and shuriken and a double bladed shortsword with throwing axe respectively. It was an odd set of choices but who was I to question. Macias ended up with a flute I asume was modified to function as a blowpipe and a set of fancy blades, more decrative than useful but absolutely beautiful.


    ¡°now one last choice. Follow me.¡± It is my mother¡¯s voice and we begin to leave. Our last stop is just outside the city walls. I notace some targets and a man in magician robes holding a book. Arround us are a collection of bows with scuff marks revealing they have been placed here recently. ¡°hand your choices to the magician and then choose the bow you would like to use.¡± The magician ushers us to place the equipment arround him in s certain patern. We comply. He mutters a chant. Chants can be bypassed with consequences to the strength of the spell. In this case the chant is short. We are asked to place our hands on the blades and as we do he sends a small jolt of arcane energy through them. I notace that I can feel the location of my soul bound weapons. I flex my hands and imagine them appearin in place, pulling on the feeling. They appear, the sling tied to my waist and the new boots and armguards on my hands and feet. A few of the instructors and the magician show mild shock but move on. We each grab a bow and fire it. it is clear who is struggling and who is not. Our angry instructor huffs at my bullseye that blows a hole through the target and burrys deep in the ground behind. Not long after we have our bows soul bound in the same way as the rest.


    We are all given the option to join the rangers and all but myself and Macias accept. We have other plans¡­

 chapter 7 ~ leaving home

    I walk out of the ranger¡¯s guild to the start of a light patch of rain. As it moves out of sight my mother approaches me. ¡°Why?¡± she asks ¡°you have always rushed into things faster than you should. Why would you not accept.¡±


    I steel my voice and face as much as possible, trying to show unshakable determination rather than childish excitement as I reply. ¡°I found out that I now have a chance to be trained in the use of magic in the greatest academy that this country has to offer.¡±


    ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°In the scroll from the stealth test.¡±


    She smiles. ¡°I am never going to be able to talk you out of this am i?¡±


    ¡°no.¡±


    Her backpack opens and she pulls out a pouch. ¡°Take the money from the furs we sold. We would probably never use it anyway. I will talk your father out of chasing after you.¡± She strains a half smile. ¡°I knew you may do something like this about now.¡±


    ¡°I will be gone for a few years at most and come back wiser for it, more powerful too.¡± I tap my chest with my fist. Mother simply hugs me so hard it hurts.


    ¡°just don¡¯t do anything stupid, always travel in a group and never let your guard down. People are far more dangerous than any drake.¡± Tears on the edge of both our eyes, we part. I am surprised she was so supportive of this choice. I have one last stop before I meet the traveling performers that I may travel with.


    As I approach the old shop for possibly the last time in years. Tears from parting with my home had all but run their course. I knock thrice and enter. This time both of my friends are there. Henry greets me at the door, Cameron is polishing an immaculate case and the owner of the shop that Cameron calls father is sitting behind the counter.


    ¡°Hi¡­¡± I greet my oldest friends with a quiet voice. ¡°what¡¯s wrong? I know you. You would never have failed those tests. You are better than most rangers at this stuff.¡± I feel my face split with one of the widest smiles I have ever made. ¡°I got a chance to do what we dreamed about. I came here to say goodbye.¡± I reply as their eyes fly wide open.¡± TELL US EVERYTHING!¡± they cry in unison. I giggle and tell them everything that had happened.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The moment I end with the words. ¡°and so I ended up here¡± the two of them were smiling just as much. ¡°You should leave now. We have kept you too long. Take these.¡± As I am dragged out of the shop by my two grinning friends and tossed onto the road with a book and the set of writing materials they taught me to read and write with. I am shocked. This is worth a small fortune. I would have tried to refuse but I was starting to gather unfriendly stares from the few inconvenienced shoppers stepping around me. I walk off quickly towards the western gates of the city.


    Macias already looks completely at home within the caravan of brightly coloured cloth surrounded by light hearted music and people. The only unpleasant face belonging to a red-faced man sporting a huge brown moustache. From his description in Macias¡¯ story I knew him to be his father. Paying attention to the merchant in a huff I step up to Macias as he greets my arrival with an open smile and a wave to me. ¡°so this is the one you told me so much yet so little about.¡± Said a young woman standing nearby. ¡°yes he is.¡± ¡°My friend, this is Olivia, the dancer who handles the caravan¡¯s protection. As I understand it she would be happy to hire you.¡± The pretty woman gives my arm a small squeeze and steps back. ¡°I would certainly hire anyone with muscles like those.¡±


    I spend the remainder of the day and some of the night talking to each member of the group whenever they are not preforming. Great tales of mighty explorers and mages and smaller converations about love and everyday life are told repeatedly with huge flair and emotion. The one that interested me most was a fortune teller named Avira. I quickly realise her powers do not use conventional magic at least and that she would never teach me but her tales were still some of the most heartfelt and longest some probably from experience of many years on the road others from folklaw and legends.


    Soon enough we go to sleep with my own room paid for by the agreement with the innkeeper. The next morning, I leave my home for the first time ever for new horizons and a vague hope of being something great.

 Chapter 8 ~ The journey begins.

    The caravan trundles away from the great walls of the town and I fall in with the other guards. Two mercenaries, four adventurers and an old ranger I don''t know make up the rest of the guards. The old man is the only one I get along with among them even though he keeps to himself. The mercenaries look down at me but are skilled enough I don''t take offence. It is the adventurers that annoy me are the sons of minor nobles with no more than a spark of magical ability between them but talk like they are supreme tallents and direct desendents of the throne.


    When not on scouting duty I mostly sit and talk to Macias or sleep. His wonderlust is infectious. Every nuonce of nature I point out to him is met with awe and more questions. When I am not talking I am being swept away by new ideas for performance and am used as a test subject for tricks. It turns out years spent in a forest surrounded by dangers has made me difficult to fool with unrefined slight of hand and minor magics. Olivia joins us some days and introduces her own take on everything, giving us both lessons on how to dance, play cards and improve on the slight of hand we have been learning.


    Other than my friends and obligations the two magic users in the caravan have fascinated me. They are easily the most reclusive and cryptic performers. The two are a couple with the husband being a minor oricle and fortune teller and the wife being an illusionist. They are both somewhat old but it is impossile to track their ages as their appearance changes day to day, especially the illusionist. Since the day I fond out about their magic abilities I have been pestering them to teach me to no avail. They seem to have some ammusement teasing me and giving me clues as to their magic but the clues are indecipherable at best. When they don''t want to be pestered I can never find them.


    I find it somewhat amazing that we encounter monsters so infrequently. I am used to at least several fights a day in the forest even with stealth and a fast travelling speed that avoids dangerous areas. The most annoying part is that myself and the old ranger have to ignore the occasional weak creature in order to prevent the adventurers from moaning about how bored they are and how their tallents are wasted sitting around. This is especially irritating as it has caused some of the mercinaries distain. They only see the creatures we miss and not why we missed them.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Some nights we stop at hamlets. Each time the troup performs and trades with the inhabitants they also gather information on celebrations that are likely to occur and other matters. I am informed with great pride that the information networks available to performers is the largest in the world as it spans class, boarders and religion while recording the matters of even the most inane of communities. They do admit that the networks are often unreliable due to their nature as story tellers and that information from distant lands are harder to access but are proud nether the less.


    It does not take long before we reach a jovial and busy village. Immediately decorations are being made and recovered. A middle aged man comes. "I am glad you have come." he calls. "My son has just married to the third daughter of a noble in the town near here. We would happily have entertainment for the party tomorrow." The proformers that prefer the softer fixed beds are welcomed into the rooms above the local tavern and the rest, including myself are greated by a clamour of gwarking onlookers. Due to the schedualed celabrations tomorrow there are not as many of the usual small performances or displays of trinkets. I soon find myself exhausted by the constant interactins especially with the children. As if in answer to my silent plea a hand taps me on the shoulder. The old man signals I should do some scouting for pests and monsters. I nod and wander away. There isn''t really a need for the duty in such a large village but it makes for a perfect excuse for some isolation. Thanks old man.

 Chapter 9~ The night before

    I enter the woods and begin walking through it away from the village. I encounter no monsters but feel far more relaxed with the everpresent sound of birdsong and all encompassing greens of the forest. Hours later a small boar disterbs me and dashes from a bush towards me. I and use my air step to reach the branch above me. The boar snorts at me and growls causing two pigglets to dash past me and escape into the foliage. Killing the boar would be a bad option as it would drive away some of the weaker monsters like goblins and be a good source of food for the village hunters.


    Not long after my encounter with the boar, I hear the sound of children playing. I move towards the noise and watch as a young boy counts down with his eyes closed in a clearing. It is clear from the scuff marks all over the clearing and the sounds of movement in the woods that others have dashed off to hide. I frown. They are too young to be allowed in the woods and the sun is already setting. With the woods as piecefull as they are and the lack of the usual indications of childish disobedience I am not willing to impose by disrupting their game. I also do not want to leave them alone as the local fauna may still be dangerous to them. However, I am curious as to what possessed them to play in the woods rather than the fallow fields that children usually use.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I decide the best way is to ask them. I follow one of their tracks to a large hollowed tree and duck inside.


    "Hey. Mister, this is my hiding spot." a young girl whisper-shouts.


    "Don''t worry, I am very quiet." I reply putting a finger to my lips. "What are you doing out here anyway?"


    "We are playing hide and seek." they answer.


    "Why not in the fields?" I ask


    "Because, we want to be adventurers when we grow up, and if we can''t even go into the woods now when it is safe, how will we ever be able to fight evil things living in caves or deeper in the forest."


    I hear the sounds of footsteps and the little girl shushes me. The boy from earlier calls out "I know you are here Meril. I heard you." Meril glares at me.


    "Don''t worry I''ll destract him." I say and dash from the hiding spot to behind another tree snapping a few twigs and catching a few ridged leaves intentionally to mark my passing. little footsteps follow my trail of sounds until I hop into the canopy and move in a more comfortable silence.


    I check the surroundings as I continue my inquieries with the other children. Aparently their parents let them go into the woods for a while before dark because I was here, hunting monsters that might hurt them. As soon as the sun dissapeared I hearded the children home and slept. The wedding was due to take place tomorrow.