《A Sorcerer's Footsteps》


 Chapter 1: The Price of Emerald Flesh

    ¡°Fresh apples! Fresh apples!¡± Cried asoftmasculine voice. ¡°Juicy, soft but not rotten, no sir! Only one iron coin!¡± The voice once again cried out. This time with a salivated lace of boasting.


    The owner of the voice waited a couple breaths, his tonguewiggledexcitedlyin his mouth, hidden from sight. His rump sat upon the cold bare ground, studying the common folk that marchedbackwards and forwardsin front of him. His youthful eyes danced with the gusto of a ravenous fox.


    ¡°You their sir!¡± The man yelled at a fellow walking in front of him,enunciating his words with the thrust of hislong-callused index finger. ¡°You look like the kind of man who knows a good apple...¡±He paused, allowing his prey a moment to soak up the small compliment. ¡°Look at my wares good sir! You won¡¯t find finer apples in all of Connacht ¨Cyouwon¡¯t.¡± A smooth flourish and the man¡¯s handswere now gesturing invitingly with open fingersto the bushel of apples beside him.


    ¡°Not interested.¡± Repliedtheflattongueof a weathered bloke, hispace forward neverbothered to slow for a second for his reply.


    ¡°Hold on now dear sir,¡±the grocer pleaded.¡°Please show mercy on this humble grocer and inspect mine fruits, before you make your verdict.¡±


    ¡°Well,I guess I can perchance spare but a moment of my time ¨C I can.¡± The promising customer replied, making his way of several paces to the grocer. He squatted low, and began to make his appraisal.


    The customergrabbed an apple harshly in his weathered left hand,tracinghis cracked fingers across the delicate green skin, taking in both its weight,shine,and robustness.


    He hummed tohimselfin thoughtwhilst throwing the fleshy emerald towards the heavens ever so softly. ¡°Lil¡¯ on the small size. Not a huge fan of the green ones either, I¡¯m not.I¡¯ll give you four woods for five.¡±


    So,the game began.


    ¡°Four for five!¡± The grocer yipped with mock exaggeration. ¡°Why good sir, these are not just any common apples, why no sir. These are the exotic apples from the forest ofTifindallaroon.¡± The grocer explained, quickly creating the existence of a magical forest. His mind¡¯s eye saw the rapid growth of lush gold trees, dense bracken,the smell ofrichoak and ivy,soundsofbirds and a mysterious buzzingalways in the near distance. A basic construct that hinted at the subtle Soothsayer¡¯s breed of magic. ¡°Why just one single mouth-watering bite will cure you of all common ailments ¨C it will. It will also make you grow taller, stronger, and should you have any trouble ¡®performing¡¯, it will make even the most withered member grow as strong and large as the mighty as the tree it sprung from! An apple this special is worth its weight in gold, but for you my good sir, just a single measly iron coin is all I ask for one of these scrumptious apples.¡±


    The man stared hard with tired eyes at the seated grocer. Their eyes not quite meeting due the shadows the grocer¡¯s oversized cloth cap casted upon his face. ¡°Does thy grocer take me for a fool? A buffoon? Purchase even the behind ofaslab of fresh mutton? You expect me to believe that you, a shady lout of poor attire, with not even a bucket to hold your wares, to possess enchanted products of your description?¡±


    The grocer examined his customer. Now really taking in this man¡¯s appearance. He was about half way through his life, typical peasants'' garb, but made with a slight finer quality and skill. A large muscular back andchestnutcrushing hands.¡°A farm hands? No. A farm owner.¡±He confirmed with his hubris.¡°Not a poor farm, no, but neither one that thrives beyond his cultivated brambles,yet a proud man nonetheless. He also slurs less than the common lout and most certainly possesses more words on his tongue that can be scrawled onto a single messenger pigeon.¡±He then appraised the man¡¯s broomstick posture and hard face, also taking a second gander at girth.¡°Best not lie too much with this one.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but sir I do not take you for anything but what I see: A strong, proud man of awesome presence. I make no lies, no sir. Yousee, I am a hunter and I came across these apples on one of my trips, yes sir. It is as you say, sir, that my enterprise is lacking, but that does not mean my product is too. I hand-picked these gems myself and am not a lying man; honest word.¡± The grocer fibbed - except for the hand-picking part, that he actually diddo.Although, he was also most certainly a poor man, there was no hiding that.


    ¡°Oh yeah,andwhere is thisTifidi-whatever forest?¡± The farmer inquired.


    The myth came quick to his lips: ¡°Why, east good sir, east. Past the city ofGallemdale. West ofArbarkk. Right around the corner of the Vermillion Swamp. Can¡¯t miss it ¨Cyoucan¡¯t.¡±


    The customer went silent and looked idly at the apple that was still in his grasp.¡°I¡¯ll give you two irons for five.¡±


    ¡°Five irons.¡± The grocer retorted.


    ¡°Three.¡±


    ¡°Four and five woods.¡±


    ¡°Three and six.¡±


    ¡°Four and two.¡±


    ¡°Three and eight.¡±


    ¡°Four. Final offer.¡±


    ¡°Deal!¡±


    And with the debate over, the two began their exchange.One ofmoney, the other of dubiousnutrition. Justas their transaction was coming to an end. The sun made an unexpected appearance, materialisingfrom behind the monochrome canvas above them.


    ¡°Oh,what a beautiful light.¡± The customer beamed, now starting deeply at the morning sun.


    ¡°Oh,why It is, good sir. Aren¡¯t we truly blessed to be under her warm bosom.¡± The grocer concurred with his patriate. He too was always humbled by the presence of the celestial amber.


    ¡°Yes indeed. Oh, bless us great Circle. The one that was, is, and shall always be ¨C the true one, complete. Bless us as we bask in your forever giving, warm creation.¡± The customer said ever so sombrely. Gone now was his hard stare; replaced now with the eyes of a sheltered child. One of whom only knew of war and battlesin patriotic fiction.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Yes, um bless...The Circle...¡± The grocer replied in a barely masked uncomfortable tone.


    The customer suddenly cranked his neck and bore into the grocer¡¯s face. The movement looked painfulwith its jarring snap.The man¡¯s hard face returned quicker than it left and with even greater magnitude.


    ¡°You do not refer to the Lord of singular spiral with the use of his title...¡± He breathed. ¡°Nay! You speak as if he was an equal. I also detect no awe, wonder or love inthou¡¯svoice...¡± His stone eyes grew smaller,yet noweaker. The skin slits that now engulfed almost allof hispupils,magnifyingthe intensity of what was still seen.


    A lumpbegan to form in his throat,¡°athousand apologies good sir. I am tired and misspoke. I feel truly horrid to refer to great and omniscient Circle in such a blasphemous manner.¡± The grocer pleaded. He arose fromwhere he sat, making greateffortto be look as harmless as possiblewhile he did so,his back hunchedslightly soevenhis height would not be a factor.


    ¡°Blasphemous...¡± The customermimicked, tasting the wordin itsentirety doingso.¡°Aye. Most blasphemous indeed.¡±


    The grocer new instantly he had made a fatal error. By calling his own action blasphemous, he had admitted to what he said to being a crime of faith;amost heinous crime indeed.


    ¡°Worry not grocer, I believe that you did not mean to commit a most despicable crime, so your life shall be spared.¡±The manassured with the nod of his head. ¡°But a crime you committed nonetheless! I say eighty lashes and some hot coals on the tongue will suffice.¡± He statedin a gentle tone, as ifhetrulybelievedhis verdictwasanincredibly generousone.


    Thehairson the grocer¡¯s limbssharpenedinretaliation. Salty liquid dribbled down his crown,nestlings themselves in his thick brows. ¡°Please good sir,I beg of thee to forget this one misdemeanour. Allow me to find sanctuary in your good heart. Mercy, sir. Mercy.¡± He pleaded with hands entwined in each other, hisframe bowedforwardin submission.


    The former customer stared blanklyat himfor several seconds, as if he was unable to comprehend whathadjustbeenasked of him. Then, a spark of vulgar epiphany ignited inthe man¡¯smind;he began to shake. His bodyspasmedwith an unconcealed rage. Pellets of spit sprang from his slacked jaw in quick succession. Knuckles turned whiterandwhiterwith self-inflicted pressure. ¡°Y-you dare,¡±he stuttered ¡°You swine! You dare ask for more goodwill after I have offered you plenty! You who insults the great Lord Circle with such a casual tongue! You demon! You heathen!You fuckin¡¯ piece of unholyfilth¡± He screeched, losing all sense of decorum with his final insult.


    The spit he fired had now swirled and warmed with a passionate blaze.Itbegan tofoam,masking the red of the man¡¯s lips,tiny whitebubblesspreadthemselves across his face like boils.


    He took hold of the grocer with his strong leathery hands. The grocer began to retreat, but alashewas fixed in place. He noticed a crowd had now formedaround them both. All withcracked eyes and snarls that mirrored hisformercustomer.Itappearedthat they had overheard the conversation and found themselves on the side of theweatheredholy man.¡°Typical,¡±The grocer thought.


    The grocer watched as the swarm of crazed peasants slowly encircled him. Less than an hour ago he was a predator, feasting upon the small amount ofcoins that jangled in their plebeian pockets. Now he was just another meal for the pack. He cursed his slippery tongue. Negotiations had failed, all that wasleft now was to eitherfight or flee. Fighting was not an option for this empty-handed grocer, fleeing was the only option. However, to do that he would first need to freehimself ofthe sentient vices that that ached his bones whilstthey coiled themselves around him.


    ¡°That¡¯s right! I despise your childish idea of divinity!¡± He boomedall of a sudden. ¡°A circle? Hah! Your Lord is but a philosophical shape at his finest. Alas for you all, that shape comes in the form ofmeremortal flesh.¡± An exaggerated smirk grew on his face,¡°that¡¯s right, your lord is nothing but a man, a man and nothing more.¡± He roared with a passion that shockedevenhimself. ¡°A man wholieswith common farm animals, so I¡¯ve been told.¡± The grocer added for final affect.


    Oh, how theyhowled.Theybecame banshees in responseto hisprovocation. Screaming, squawking, flailing their limbsuntil they whistledin an effort to drownouthis words.


    ¡°Y-y-you demon. How it possible for someoneto utter such words?¡± The farmer hissed,nowsqueezing so hard on the grocer¡¯s arms he could feel the bones beneath creakand grind.


    ¡°I but speak the truth! Your lord is pitiful! Ugly! Weak! Smelly! Vile! Stupid! Foolish! A common lout! Why, I heard he was the result of a one-legged whore and one of those rats that has been trained to crawl through a man¡¯s buttocksforsome kind ofperverse pleasure,you know the ones.¡± The grocer spat, doing his best to be heard over the chorus of ear-destroying screams.


    His foes started swaying side to side, becoming drunk on his venom. The grocer did notrelent however, for if he was to allow a mere second of silence, so they may compose themselves, it would be his last.Withlittle other choicehe carried on his verbal assault, using ever curse he knew to describe their deity. Most werechildishandothers used incorrectly,they wouldnot evenoffend even the most riled drunkardtypically,yetthese werenotnormal beings he was dealing with. Each word that came out of the grocer¡¯s mouth, no matter how juvenile, was ashard ofcrockedglassin their blissful brains.


    Eventually the grocer got what he desired, the man holdingontohim could no longer withstand hiswickedviper tongue and threwhis palms onto his ears. As soon as the grocer no longer felt the weight upon himself, he turned and ran. His apples long forgotten; never once did he look backfor them.


    He ran and ran and ran some more. Never once trusting it to be safe. He knew from experience that the modern man could be relentless when it came to their dogma.


    Only afterwhenhis body collapsed onto a forest floordidhefinallystop. Hewasnot sure when he ended up in the forest that now surrounded him, for the last several miles had been a wheezing blur. The grocer was confident he was now safe though, normally theywouldeventually stop their pursuit and go back on with their livesas ifnothinghadever happened. The grocer supposed that was so they didnotdestroy themselves in the hunt. Their Lordwasat least merciful enough to not work his cattle to death, over an insult to his pride,¡°Sometimes,¡±he thought.


    Hours passed before the grocer regained enough of his strength to stand upright. Once hedid,he immediately dusted of his tattered clothing and collected his thoughts,¡°only four iron coins for all that effort,¡± He grumbled to himself, as he twirled the large metal coins in between his fingers. At that thought, he felt a sudden painful rumbling in his stomach. ¡°Damn, I didn¡¯t even have time to retrieve those shitty apples of mine,¡± Hegrumbled.


    With an aching stomach and even more aching body, the grocer was forced to press on. He did notyetfeel safe from society and was alsoin desperateneedforfood. The man marched on once again, alone.


    It had been nearly sixteen months since everything had changed. Before¡°he¡±hadtakenover. In solitude the grocer had trudged on,in a world with not a single friend, comrade, or even acquaintance. A cursed existence surrounded by cursed people. A grocer without groceries;a scholar without books;an alchemist without a laboratory;a magician without a wand.


    ¡°I¡¯m the last sane man in a world of insanity,¡± he mused.¡°wonder if that makes me the crazy one?¡± Heaskedhimself with his hand on his chin,Rubbingthe bristles gently.


    With littleelseto do the grocertook off into the dark forest, in search for something to quell his aching belly

 Chapter 2: The Society of Salt

    Six steps. Four at the front and two at the back. The four was different from the two, and the two different from the four. The first was quick and agile, each strike was the focussed needle point of careful keratin. The second pair of pairs trailed many paces behind and lacked much of the adjectives its forward companion possessed. Although, what the behind duo lacked in skill and grace, made up for it withsheerluck.


    ¡°That¡¯s right you little deer-thing-you,keep up that slow pace of yours. Goon. Nothing in this sweetlittleforest for you to worry about, nosir...¡± Mumbled the trailing pair of two legs.


    With a feverish determination, an iron will, and the agility of a common garden worm, the grocer had been stalking a red doe, or what he wasalmostsurewas one, for at least four hoursnow.The poor excuse for an apple merchantwas now huntingin the unknown forest he had accidentally wandered in.


    This was not the first time he had hunted a living creature,yethe was most certainly a noviceinthe trade. Until a mere year ago he had never once had to worry about how food would find itselfuponhis plate. Nay this particular grocer, in another life, wasunable toevencomprehend that the pork and pheasant he so dearly loved, were thosemundane-looking animals hewouldsometimesgander upononhis visits to the market. Now his meagre diet consisted of mostly wild nuts, berries, roots and the occasional overly loud cricket. Sometimes he found himself stroking the empty space in which hisbellyonce protruded.


    He grunted. The primal sigh slipped out unintentionally, a side effect of throwing the crude spear in his hand with wind whipping force.


    The sharpened stick cut the air with a surprising speed, only slowing when it finally lost its battle with gravity and sunk into the ground.¡°Shit!¡±The thrower cursed. The leg long javelin buried itself into the dry forest soil that surrounded them all; landing a hair¡¯s length away from its target. In the instant the spear was planted, the red doe immediately began to gallop in panicked hysteria


    ¡°Notsofast!¡± He gurgled to his fleeing target.Inthe same moment he yelled, hejabbedoutthe hand that neverfelt the roughness of his wooden creation.Instead it held a tingling sensation, awarm sensation, asensation of clandestine visibility.The open palm aligned with the torso of thedoe, giving himself a breath tobe sure his aim was indeed true; heforcefully tensed the muscles inhand. When they reachedtheirstraining limits, he crashed his fingers intothe softfleshypalm, forming a white knuckled fist.As soon as the tips of the fingers touched skin, the doe let out ayelp and fell to the ground.


    Before the beast could compose itself, he darted forward, barely looking at the spear as he pulled it from the ground in the midst of his sprint. He sunk the sharpened tree branch into the helpless creature¡¯slongthick neck. As soon as the tip met bone, he yanked it free and placed it back intoitsmeat immediately afterwards. At first the doe screamed, then gurgled, then whimpered,andthen nothing.It most certainly seemed cruel and barbaric to repeatedly stab the creature ¨C and it was, but no creature dies from one ill planned strike, it could have taken agonising hours for the doe to finally perish if he only struckitonce. At least, that¡¯s what the pained faced hunter kepttellinghimself whilsthe did the deed.


    Once he was sure the beast was dead, he pulled out the wooden spear for the final time and dropped it carelessly upon the ground. He quickly followed suitand flopped to the floor. There he sat for minutes, wiping the sweat from his body. When he had regained his breath, he brought the hand that had attacked the doe with an invisible force and gave it a wiggle. The hand itched, ached,and was red from excessive warmth.


    ¡°This is exactly why a magician needs a catalyst.Bugger me, I miss my wand.¡± He quietlywhined,massaging the hand with his spearthrowingone.


    When his hand finally returned to normal andhisbreath back to its normal rhythm, he stood back up and unsheathed his knife. A small nicked iron blade of plebeian craftsmanship,unfortunatelythemetal was also beginning to show the early signs of rust. With it, he got to work on his new prize.


    **********


    ¡°If there is a god, praise him for the creation of salt. Oh, wondrous preservative of the perished organic! Oh, white jewels of thirst. Bless thee flavourer of low-quality pork. You surely outdid yourselfwith the glorious sparkly white powder, you majestic, not sure if you exist,beautifulbastard.¡± The grocer exclaimed to warm afternoon sky.


    It had now been a little over a day since he had ventured into the unknown forest and in thattime,he had created a small base for himself.


    In his base was the glowing embers and black remains of a still smoking fire place. Above the ashes, wrapped around three large sticks, was the red doe¡¯s hide, going through its last phases in the tanning process.The grocer new little of tanning, with all of his knowledge coming fromlackadaisicallywatching others performing the task in cities and boroughs. He had scraped as much of the doe¡¯s meat he was able to, washed it in a nearby pond, andslathered his urine andfaeceson the hide, just like how he had theprofessionalsdo.Also, inthe camp there was a rotted log of uncomfortable sitting, a bed of leaves, a pile of nuts and berries, and over a dozen thin strips of salted venison drying in the sun.


    With not much to do while the hide was being smoked and the meat transforming into jerky, the grocer passed his time be etching more runes into his iron rod. Why was he doing this? Because he intended to use it as the spine for the magical staff he planned on creating ofcourse.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The rod was made entirely of grey iron, making it strong but heavy. It was quite thin, about double the width of his index finger and the length of the averagepeasantwench. He had acquired the iron rod nearly two months ago. He happened upon it as he was in the middle of his market browse,thoughtlesslyleft on the ground outside of a blacksmith¡¯s workshop. Hehadasked the blacksmith if he could have itfor himself,the blacksmith informed him that he threw it away and the grocer was welcome to his rubbish.


    Since then, he had been very carefully etching various magical runes into its cold rough skin. Doing this essentiallyteaches the metal what magic is, the types of magic, and what to do with its master¡¯sdwimmerwhen channelled through it. Without doing so, it would besimilar totrying to communicate with someone who isboth deaf and unable to read lips.Sure, theywouldeventually get thegistof what youaretrying to tell them, but only the gist ¨C not to mention italsobeing very time consuming and frustrating.


    With the sun reaching its peak in the sky and the small embers finally stopped breathing black vapour, the grocer concluded his work. He gently placed his etching tools on the leafy ground,thenbrushed off the metallic swarf that still clung to the iron spine. The iron rested horizontally across his palms. The grocer appraised his craftsmanship, slowly trailing his eyes across the long metal cylinder, starting from the left as if it was a book.


    The metal did indeed tell a story. A story of skill and dedication. At the beginning the runes were jagged and warped with inconsistent depths and sizes. No pattern to be seen.A misshapen fire rune beside tiny earth rune, their temperature¡¯s conflicting, their shared dryness unable to befriend. However, as the story spirals on across the round metal, the reader begins to see etches of equal worth began to converse with one another. Even further in the story the characters begin to sing, at first their pitch and timing are poorly executed, but as time goes on their voices align into a symphony of primal ¨C yet enticing melodies.


    If the grocer was back in the academy, he was certain his mentor would snap the spine in two and make him start again.¡°Shit,¡±he would too. He would love to redo his workbut sadly lacked the materials to do so. The days of limitless silver, gold, and gems were long gone. Now a stick of dull grey iron was his most valuable and cherished possession. Even if it reeked of an amateur¡¯s penmanship. The grocer was still ever so proud of what he had created, for it was his and his alone. Enchantedbyhis own blood and sweat.


    He remembered the first time he created a magical wand, a wallowing failure that would even fail to direct a musical number. Instead of trying again, he simply bought another one using his father¡¯s coin.¡°Oh, what a sloth I was. Though I was most certainly not the first to bond with another¡¯s wand. The days of pride in one''s own hard work were coming to their endlong before I enrolled at theacademy.¡±


    The grocer shook the nostalgia from his mind. He could notallow himself tobecometrapped in the past when the present demanded his full attention. He quickly flooded himself with his current goals, drowning the past in a sudden concentrated stream.


    Now that the backbone of his staff had been completed, henow neededto decide what came next on his quest. The creation of a magical catalyst needed at least five things: a spine, the foundation in which the rest of the materials nestle themselves upon. Veins, something for thedwimmerto travel through. Crystals to increase its magical potency. A champion crystal ¨C typically referred to as the heart. Something that directs thedwimmerinto the physical world.Finally, the skin, something that protects the innards of the catalyst and nourishes them.


    So far, the grocer possessed a spine and a small bag of crystals. Most of which weretheleast potent gems a magician could use: milk quartz and the marginally better rose quartz. That left the veins, skin and heart. The skin was the easiest to find but the grocer decided to save it for last. Almost all catalyst skins were made of wood, which of course was in abundance. However, the carpentry would take a lot of time, not to mention the grocer would have to lug around a piece of wood the size of himself everywhere,whilsthe still searched for the last two. He was also hoping he would come across something rarer than birch or oak on his journey for the other twoas well.


    The heart was most certainly going to be the hardest to acquire. A champion gem needed to be large and of a single piece. It was also preferably to use something more potent than the minor gems, in the grocer¡¯s case, the best he was hoping for was a fat amethyst. It was mostly certainly not a rare jewel, not even worth a second glace in his old life, but with the changes of this new world, it was a sapphireandsapphireswerenow a myth.


    Sothat leftthe veins.Coils of metalfused to the spine withwickedfire.Just likethe crystals, the veins needed to be of a higher quality of metalthan their foundation. The nextmost conductive metalabove iron on the alchemy chart was copper.While difficult to find since most of it wasconfiscated in the name of the Circle, it was still a lot easier toget than gemstones.


    Though it presented a moral dilemma for the grocer, he was most certainly too horrifically poor to purchase even a nugget of the ore, must less the ingots worth he required. For months now,he had been trying to play by the rules and acquire the ingredients lawfully, but his time as a grocer had achieved nothing but improved stamina, a sly tongue, and a growing phobia of socialising. The curse of the never-ending Circle was everywhere and he now feared any human he came across.


    Perhaps it was time to become a thief. After all, he was doing this for the greater good. Right now, he could barely fight a particularly grumpy badger, much less a god. Besides, their brains now hosted a charismatic worm of villainous intent.Peasantsand nobles alikewould happily tear him limb from limb if he should so utter a single disapproving word or give anunsatisfactory amount of praise to their divine shape.


    Maybe he should leave copper last after all. It would be quite cumbersome to carry. The most likely place to find some would be at a smithy, which is somewhere he would need to go eventually anyway. That was the part the grocer dreaded most. The staff needed to be forged in temperatures only a forge or another catalyst could produce. The latter was impossible so he was only left with the former. Unfortunately, he had no experience in the artof forgingand he didnottrust any blacksmith to do it for him, even if they could follow his verbal instructions or his drawings. Worst of all was that he only had one attempt at the deed. Should he fail, he would have to collect a whole new set of ingredients and start anew.


    Noneof the materials were as easy to get as it first appeared in his mind,and which one to get firstwas becomingharder and harder to decide.


    The groceronly knew one thing for certain, he needed togo back to civilisationregardless of what came first.There he will have to decidewhere two startand whether he should continue hismerchant charade, orsimply give in to the temptation of theft.


    He decided to spend the rest of the day in the forest before heading out, giving him time to supply and for the deer hide to fully become leather.¡°At least I¡¯ll be selling something more interesting than apples this time around.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Gem Maiden

    ¡°Bear leather here! Good quality! Can be used to make saddles, clothes,and arrow halting armour!¡± Yelled a monotonous voice in the market square. Not a single person that walked past made even the slightest effort to turn their heads in the direction of the yelling, their reason being there clearly fartooimportantto amuse the seller for a moment.


    For hours now, the former apple grocer had been attempting to sell doe leather strips of various sizes to the residents of thelittle borough:Ottbrook. So far, he had only managed to acquire one gentleman¡¯s attentionjust enough for a brief discussion.A conversation that almost brought tears to the grocer¡¯s eyes when the gentleman had laughed at his wares.His enthusiasm had long since left and now he just repeated the same phrases over and over again,as ifhe was in a trance of themelancholiestvariety.


    The biggest reason for his lack of sales, the grocer quickly realised, was most likely the lack of creativity he put into the leather of his. Leather while notpatricianlycheap was stillmost certainly not a rarity andeven many serfspossessedsome level of ability in tanning a hide, of course not all wielded the skill to hunt for the skin, nor thepermissionfrom their lords to do so. So, the main reason as to why the common folk would purchase something of leather was if it was crafted intosomething,they couldnotmake themselves. Perhaps a pair of boots,asaddle,or a durable coat.Perhapseven a chest guard or some vambraces. Unfortunately, the grocer lacked the skill and tools to make any of theseitems. He had a knife that could barely cut his creationsand at best a very basic knowledgeofsewing from his boyhood days in the manor.


    The grocer was begrudged to admit it, but a part of him did notwant anyone to approach him. He seemed to have gained a gnawing fear of people in the recent months and even had to stop himself from fleeing when he was in the midst of a conversation with the gentleman from earlier.


    The grocer sighed deeply and began to pack away his belongings. Hewas nottoostubbornto admit that his leather selling plan was a coin-less endeavour. Maybe he should use the hardened hide himself, after all it would be advantageous to wear something that can resist the rain and at leastfend-offthe punchesand kicksof children. However, hiring a tailor would still cost money and involve talking to someone. For now, the grocer would just have to put¡°do something with the leather¡±on his forever growing to-do list.


    Once all of the grocer¡¯s belongings were all placed in the tan sack of his, he began to walk through the market,now as a potential patron.


    The market possessed the basic design ofLonciantrade structure. A row of stalls on the left, a row on the right, plenty of room for man and animals to walk in between. The merchandise was also typical, though that was to be expected of aquaintboroughof no historical worthto be found. Breads, fruits, vegetables, mutton, pork, beef, dog,pelts,and plenty of fish. So much fish of so many different species that most of which the grocer had never laid eyes upon before. The galore of sea creatures was a good indication that the town ofOttbrookwas close to the ocean. Not so close one could feel its winds or the salt they carried,yetstill close.


    The smelland sight of fish wasthe bestinkling of where he was in the land ofLonciahe hadhad in a long time.With no compassor map in hisinventory, he had been completely lost for months. Fortunately for him,however, he neitherpossessed a destination either.


    As he continued his march through the rudimentary maze of stalls, his eyes fell upon a small one, barely visible through the towers of fish. It¡¯s lousiness actually made it stand out in the normality. The stall was shabby, terribly so. Though, the grocer couldn¡¯t judge too harshly, he did noteven have a cloth for his wares to rest upon.


    He lazily walked over to the stall and began his inspection.


    Laid across the top weretrinkets!Bracelets of steel, necklaces of bronze ¨C even the oddrose quartz ring. The grocer had to manually stop himself fromdrooling over the treasures.


    ¡°May I helpyou,young man?¡± Asked a gurgled voice from the front of him.


    Looking up the grocerfinally paid attention to the seller of these magical wares. A smallold woman withso many stretched wrinkles, sheresembled the bark of a dehydrated tree.


    ¡°You most certainly can, fare maiden.¡± The grocer replied,adding just a hint of flirtatious desire in his voice.


    ¡°Fare maiden? Aren¡¯t we a boldsprout?The name¡¯s Finley, luv.¡± She said with a softer tone than her previous remark.


    ¡°Finley, huh, what a beautiful name.¡± Exaggerating his compliment with a flourish of his arms. ¡°As for myself: Bry...¡± He paused. Not once had he been in a situation where he had to give his name. His namewas nottoo uniqueit would raise an eyebrow, norneither was he a person of fame, yet he still hesitated at the idea of someone learning of him, even if it was an old peasant woman.¡°Think;think;think...¡±He thought.¡°Bry-Bryp- p-p,Brypple. Apple...Apple...Apple...Tanner.¡±He stammered.¡°DidI just tell this old biddy that I¡¯m called Apple? I¡¯m suchabloodyidiot! She¡¯s not going to believe that. Apple is not a name!¡±


    ¡°Apple huh.¡± She hummed, interrupting the grocer¡¯s inner turmoil. ¡°Your parents must be simple folks with a passion forpickin¡¯, I¡¯d bet.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Oh yes! Ma¡¯ and da¡¯ sure did love their apple picking. Of how they went on about the picking of apples. Even more so than the leather work me da¡¯ did. Oh, how they loved the apples they picked, and the ones they didn¡¯t, I suppose. Yup, they loved all apples and picking ¨C leather too!¡± He responded immediately.¡°Seems I overestimated the simplicity of commoners. Though, I guess I¡¯m going to have to get used to being called Applefrom now on.¡±


    ¡°So, Apple, how can I helpya?¡± She asked, returning the conversation back tobusiness.


    ¡°Well, my dear Finley, I was walking through your humble market and happened to lay but the very corners of these grey eyes of mine upon your wares. In just that small peak, I was entranced...Such marvellous trinkets, pulsating with love. Pray tell, how did you happen upon such treasure?¡±


    ¡°Oh,they aren¡¯t no treasure young man, at least not the kind you would find in a magical forest, or at the bottom of the ocean. Nay, these are but my own jewellery. In my sin I hid them from those queer knights several months past. The shame has been eating away at me the entire time. I tried to find those same soldiers, but they left as quick as they came. Now I just want them from my sight through whatever means.¡± She explained. The guilt and sadden laid ever so bare across her aged face.


    While the story was a sad on indeed, Apple supposed, he was more fixated on her resistance to obey the Circle¡¯s men. Perhaps she was unaware of whom the knights worked for. Maybe this queer mind magic ofthe Circle¡¯s hadnot spreadto this corner of the country yet.


    He almost asked the woman, butdid notdare to utter that accused shape. For now, he should just thank his luck that crystals now laid before him, with an owner who could barely look upon them.


    Just the momentbefore Apple asked the merchant: Finley,how muchfor herpoorly cut rose quartzring, he was struck with the realisation that the question was of little worth, as he himself possessed none.


    ¡°What a tragic story. If it pleases you, I will do my up most to take theseburdensfrom your hands. Pray tell, how much for the beautiful pale red ring?¡± He asked, deciding there was little risk in asking regardless or his wealth.


    ¡°Two wooden coins.¡±


    Apple wanted to scream.¡°So cheap!¡±She had not even attempted to haggle the price. Apple once sold a rotten pear for four wooden coins. Four woods! The price offended him as a fellow merchant. He did wonder however, why no one had snagged up these jewels before him. The whole ordeal angered and confused him. The worst part was even at such an absurdly low price, he still could notafford it, he still wondered what happened to that iron coin heacquiredin that village a while back.


    ¡°My word,¡±he began. ¡°Such a low price. You were not jesting when you said you wanted them gone. Your honesty of your woes has almost moved me to tears. I must admit, good woman, but I actually do not currently possess even that amount ofcoin,mayI instead interest you in a trade, perhaps?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. What do you have to trade?¡± She inquired.


    ¡°Why just the finest leather in all of-¡°


    ¡°I don¡¯t need no leather. My husband is a cow farmer, he is.Got more leather then I know what to do with.What elseyagot?¡±Finley interrupted.


    ¡°Oh.,Erm, how about this hat on my head?¡± Apple stuttered, awkwardlytaking off the cloth cap on his head and presenting it to the old woman.


    ¡°No thanks dear. I haverags forcleanin¡¯ cow dung off meboots in a better state than that thing.¡±


    Applewasnot sure how to respondto that. Hewouldbe insulted if he couldnotcurrently feel hundreds of tiny feet parading across his head. It seemed he had grown too accustomed to living in the wildness. The epiphany of his current hygiene struck him with force. When was the last time he bathed?It wasa question,much to his dismay, thathe could not answer.


    ¡°Tell you what, Apple, with those shabby clothes and that queer posh-like accent of yours, you¡¯re clearly one of them city beggars I used to gander at in my younger days. Not sure why you¡¯re ¡®ere, I¡¯m not. But I¡¯ll tellyawhat, why don¡¯t you help me and husband out on the farm? We¡¯re getting¡¯ a bit old and our children have all left the nest, they ¡®ave.Some help would be much appreciated. Even from a city dweller that¡¯s probably never even touched a cow in ¡®is life. In return I¡¯ll give you all of the trinkets beforeya.¡± She asked for him. While even with the minor insults, her offer was still warm and sincere.


    Apple weighed up the request.On one side he had an opportunity to get some crystals withoutmoney or theft. On the other hand, he had no experience working on a farm orknew how long it would take.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± He declared. Hedecided it was worth a chance. Besides, if it turned out to be too much work, he could just leave. It was also a good chance to learn a bit about currentevents and hopefully get a bath.


    ¡°Atta boy. I guess since I¡¯ve promised my goods to you, no need to be here. Help me pack up dear and we¡¯ll head to myfarm.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Apple did as he was asked. Quickly wrapping upthe jewels in a large cloth. He had to resist the urge torun away with the bag. But the trust this stranger had for held him in place.


    Once everything was safety packed away, hefollowed Finley¡¯s painfully slow pace, towards his new job as a farm boy.


    **********


    Salty liquid oozed from scorched skin; stinging it in routine masochism. Luckily the sensationneverlastedlong, it took only seconds for the blazing sun to vaporise the liquid; only leaving a slight itch and a wanting coolness.


    Even though this cycle continued for hours on end, Apple stopped feeling the sensations evenlonger ago. He was in a trance. His body had a reached a state of tranquillity in which it was only itself and the axe it held. There was no pain, no hunger, no fatigue, just the jobat hand.Heraisedthe axe above the head and broughtit down onto the wood, repeating themovementuntil the wood has been fully cleaved in two.


    For three days now, this had been Apple¡¯s entire goal in life. Shortly after arriving at old lady Finley¡¯s farm, Apple was put to work at the instruction of her husband. Tom was his name. A short old man made even shorter with the great hunch in his spine. Skin with the appearance and texture of tree bark ¨C like Finley. Once he was informedofApple¡¯s situation by his wife, he shook the grocer¡¯s hand and found him wanting. Over the months Apple¡¯s once soft hands hardened threefold as they combated nature and the discomforts of peasant life. However, they might have well been threads of loose silk when compared with the carved rock that was Tom¡¯s hand. Skin so rough you couldcreatea spark by striking it with flint.Skinso old and weathered it waslost under the layers and layers of iron calluses. The second Tom felt Apple¡¯s hand, he could tell the¡°city-boy¡±knew little about a hardday''swork.


    So here he was, chopping a seemingly endless supply of logs. A simple job thatonly required an average level of physical strength and even less intelligence.


    One the first day Apple took a break after less than hour of chopping. That break quickly ended when Tom reminded him of their agreement: For a fortnight Apple would do whatever Tom told him and in return wouldhave a place to sleep, three meals a day, and at the end he shall receive all of their unwanted jewellery. So, he had two options: quit or suck it up. He begrudgingly chose the latter.


    What helped him power through the tortuous exhaustion and aching was realisation of his weakness. The magicians ofLonciawere taught that it is more dignified to move as little as possible. Running, dodging, grunting, even moving your arms was considered primitive behaviour. The less a magic user moved in battle, the better. Apple in the pasthadhappily subscribed to this philosophy, proudly wearing a blank expression when sparring, never once moving an inch on his own accord. However, now that his golden carriage had abandoned him, only his body had remained. A squishy thing used to the tenderness of rich comfort. Lamb became mouse and mouse became worm. His soft fleshly armour of cushions and pillows disappeared in the wind, revealing bone and leathery sinew. He now realised that if he wanted to thrive in this world, he would need to don a new armour. He shall weave chainmail with the pink fibres that dwell beneath his skin. And that skin shall have no choice but to be beaten by the elements and his actions, over and over until it becomes something that would win the respect of a gristly elder.


    The axein his handwas his hammer, the wood his anvil, and he the blade.


    **********


    ¡°No, no. Much too loose! Stitchinglike that will never hold the two pieces for more thanan afternoon, theywon¡¯t.¡±Old lady Finley scolded.


    ¡°You¡¯re right.I¡¯m being toohasty.¡± Applesombrelyagreed with the woman.


    ¡°It¡¯sfine dear. You may not ¡®avemuch of a talent for this,yasuredon¡¯t, but as long as you keep at it, you¡¯ll get there.¡±


    So,Apple did just that. With a slight sigh he undid his stitching and began again.


    It had been eight days now since he had begun his new job as a farmhand. He was currently in the midst of his third sewing lesson with old lady Finley. On his fifth day at the farm, when called for dinner, he found Finley mending a pair of wool trousers.Applerememberedall the leather he owned that was just taking up spacein his sack, he worked up his courage and asked if she would be willing to teach him in the art of sewing. The old woman seemed more than delightedto becomehis tutor. No matter how much he messed up, she always encouraged him andsimplyseemed to enjoy the whole experience. Even Tomappearedcontentwith their current lessons; never once complaining that it was eating into a bit of Apple¡¯s work time.


    Sewing was notjust the only thing that Apple was learning at Tom¡¯s farm. On the fourth day of none-stop wood chopping and pondering all the physical benefit he was receiving from it,he realised that this farm was also home to plenty of other activities that coulduse aidhis survival skills.


    Later that day he watched Tom butcher a cow and skin a rabbit.The tasksmade him nauseous at first but he quickly grew accustomed to the scene. He cursed internally when he saw Tom skin a rabbit with an awesome speed and efficiency. It made him realise just how poorly his self-taught skillswere. He thought longingly of all that skin and meat that was left onthat doecarcass. It could have all been his if he had donethedeedafter watching Tom at work.


    On the fifth day hehadmanaged to persuade Tom to teach the basics of growing and preparing crops, then about wild plants,saltand pelts.


    On the tenth day a routine was made:wake up at dusk.,chop wood until breakfast. Afterwards shadow Tom until he gets fed up with Apple,at an appleor two,chop more wood until dinner., and finallysewing and fabric lessons with Finley. Bed. Repeat.


    **********


    The fourteenth and final day had arrivedand thus Apple¡¯s time on old Tom¡¯s farm had come to an end. He woke up at dusk like normal and chopped wood until breakfast,like normal. However, this time he was met with more than just a bowl of porridge, bread,andthe all toofamiliarapple.


    On the table, alongside his meal, was a green cloth and upon that was the crude jewellery he stumbled upon a fortnight ago. The rose quartz ring, steel bracelet, milk quartz necklace;all there.


    ¡°They¡¯re allhere, dear. Well, all except one.¡¯ Said the old feminine voice that Apple had grown fond of.


    Apple turned around and was met with the sight of sweet old lady Finley.Her eyes looking ever so tender. Her mouth in the shape of a sad looking crescent. In her small cupped hands was what appeared to be a lump of honey.


    ¡°Good morning, Finley.¡±Apple responded.


    ¡°Goodmornin¡¯, Apple.¡± She replied, her crescent mouth growing insize.


    Apple was unsure what to say next. The air in the room was strange. He was about to make an opinion about the days weather but Finleythankfullyspoke before he could. ¡°I want you to have this,¡±she said,gesturing to the honey in her hands.


    Apple was again unsure on what to say next. He liked the taste of honey. But, was he supposed to scoop the sticky substance out of her hands? As he walked closer towards her, he realised hehadappraised the thing her hands wrongly.


    What was cupped in those branch-likefingerswas solid and of aglossier shade thanhoney, like tree sap.It was tree sap, a long time ago.Nowit been hardened by time, useless to a tree and insects that feast upon itsnutrients;amber.


    A gem morevaluable thananamethyst. A gemthat Apple dreamed of.It was also large. It looked to be the size of his fist, oraheart.


    He had to violently blink his eyesto stop the liquid he could feel forming inhis eye sockets. Though, he was unable tocontain the well of emotions inside enough to stophimself from hugging the old woman. He took her in his firm arms, lifting her frailbody off the ground, and spun.


    He twirledfour times before he regained his senses and awkwardly put the poor old ladyback down.¡°My word! You startled me. I had no idea you¡¯d be so excited to see thisgem.¡± She said, wheezing slightly.


    ¡°Oh, you have no idea! You could have presented me with the finest horse you own, withawench a bosom the size of a mammoth¡¯s testicles,carrying a lifetime supply of gold ale,yetthat would pale in comparison to the treasure you have shownme!¡±


    ¡°Well. I guess that¡¯s good then,¡±she mused. ¡°I didn¡¯t originally plan to give this toya, I didn¡¯t, but you¡¯ve been good company and given us enough fire wood for more winters than I¡¯ve been alive.¡±


    ¡°Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!Youmagnificent woman! If I didn¡¯t respect Tom so much, I would have us married by dawn!¡± He declared.


    ¡°I should ¡®aveshown this last, I should. I¡¯vegot a few more goodies to giveyabefore you go, but first you need a bath.¡±


    That was something Apple could not argue. He still had not bathed since he came to this farm.


    ¡°The water has already been set up for you. Cleanyaself-upand the rest of your stuff will be ready forya.¡± She told him.


    Apple immediately did as he was ordered. He was most certainly exited for his other gifts, but even more so forthe idea of being cleanonce again.


    In the wash room he was greeted to the divine sight of awoodentub filled with steaming water, covered indandelionsand mint leaves,highlyluxurious for peasants. Apple wasted no time in stripping bare and submerging himself completely in the water.


    He sat in thewoodentub for at least an hour. Only finally leaving when the water turned cold and having aggressively scrubbedhis bodyrawseveral times over. Afterwards he found a mirror and began to trim his hair.First his beard,ascraggly thing that had tickled himin annoyancefor the past moons. He sliced through the hair effortlessly with the fine bronze blade Finley had left him beside the mirror. He eventually stopped once all that was left wasauburn-coloured stubble, daring to not go further less he removed skin.He again thought back to his old life when a steady-handed servant performed this task for him every morning.


    Next came the hair. Straight strands the colour of dirty copper, laying idly on his back. He gripped tightly his hand, fixing it into the style of a pony¡¯s tail. He cleaved off the long tail with the alloyed blade, leaving only hair that fell to the lobes of his ears. It pained him to do itfor heenjoyedhaving long hair,althoughhe hadlonggrown tired of untangling it from tree branchesand shrubberies.


    With his grooming done, Apple dried himselfoffand headed back to the kitchen.


    On table, along with his now cold breakfast and his new jewellery, werea variety of differentof other oddities. A hat with a large rain sheltering brim, made of a familiar looking leather.A wool tunicaccompaniedbywool trousers. A long leather coat and a pair ofcrudeleather boots. Finally, the last of the gifts was an axe, smaller than the one Apple had been usingthe past fortnight, but still looked quite capable of cutting things in two.


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re not that bad on eyes when you cleanyaself-up.¡± Complimented Finley, appearing at his side as if by magic.


    ¡°This, this is all too much. I can¡¯taccept this. AllI really didwas chop wood.¡±Apple protested, not even hearing Finley¡¯s praise of his new groomed appearance.


    ¡°You can and you will.¡± She huffed ¡°You¡¯ve done more for us than you realise. Nothing I¡¯m giving you if of value to us. The clothes are my son¡¯s and too big for Tom. The hat was made with your leather and I made the coat and boots with some of my cow. Not as soft as yourdoebuttougherand if you forgiveme for saying so, of a batter quality.Tom¡¯s got more axes than a horse has flies and I promised you the jewels a while back.¡±


    ¡°But, but...¡± He protested.


    ¡°But nothing. Now get changed and eat your breakfast.¡±


    Once again, Apple simply did as he was ordered.


    **********


    OnceApple had finished his meal, he said he final farewells.Deciding it would be easier to get it over with quickly.


    He donned his new coat and hat. Strapped the axe to his belt. Fastened his catalyst¡¯sspine to his back and slung his sack of goodies over his shoulder.


    As he began his march through the farm fields one final time. He felt bitter about Tom not seeing him off. They had only known each other for two weeks but Finley had reminded him that the old man does notlike getting all¡°sappy¡¯¡±.¡°but still...¡±He thought.


    His bitterness vanished in an instant when he small the small silhouette of a hunched man at the farm¡¯s entrance.


    ¡°You off lad?¡± Asked a voice that sounded as if itswallowedgravel for fun.


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Got any place in mind?¡±


    ¡°Oh right! You wouldn¡¯t happen to know where I can find a blacksmith, wouldya?¡± Apple asked, a question which should have beenaskeddays ago.


    ¡°Aye I do, lad. Take the road from ¡®ere south. Keepgoin¡¯ till you find aborough called ¡®Westin¡¯. Not all that far, ¡®n¡¯ travel¡¯sreallysimple, it is.¡±


    ¡°I see., thanks Tom.¡± Apple replied, not even attempting to calm the giant smile on his face.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get soppy on me now lad. Go ¡®n, get.You clearly don¡¯t belong on a farm with them soft ¡®ands of yours,yadon¡¯t.


    Apple just laughed in response.


    Off the former farmerhand went. Much richer now in both materials and knowledge.


    So far on his travels he had acquired a spine and a heart, all thatwas left was some veins and astudycovering ofskin.

 Chapter 4: The Twin of Tin

    Ello, ¡®ello.What we ¡®ave¡®ere then?¡±Asked a gruff voice.


    ¡°Can I help you good sir?¡± Applerepliedtheman who had just jumped out some bushes in front of him.


    The man beamed, ¡°¡®elp? Why yes, I think you can be a ¡®elp¨Cyacan.¡± The man replied with a crooked grin. Crooked in both design and the stained shards of what were once teeth the smile exposed.


    ¡°Marvellous.¡± Apples declared,¡°always happy to assist a fellow traveller. Tell me, good sir, what is the particular thing in question, that is of your request?¡±


    ¡°Erm, what?¡± He replied with the cock of his head and a blank stare. ¡°Yasee,meleg don¡¯t be too good these days,yasee.¡±HeGesturedto his right leg that now suddenly seemed to be unable to support his weightof his evident pot-belly. ¡°I know a healer that can mend it all good, but I don¡¯t ¡®avethe coin ,yasee.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see, I see. You need not the aid of labour or good humour, but instead require of memy very ownprecious coins.¡°Applehummed, stroking his chin in thought. ¡°How much to fix that poor leg of yours, good sir?¡±


    ¡°Erm,I¡¯d say thirty irons should suffice - they would.¡±


    ¡°Oh my. That is a hefty request, good sir. Why, I would be delighted to sacrifice my own wealth for somestrangeunkempt lout, who can¡¯tseem tolet go of the hilt of the sword strapped to his side, but alas I do not possess the amount you sodesperately need. A thousand apologies, good sir.¡±Hebowed his head slightly as a sign of apology.


    The man stared at Apple in silence for several seconds. His eyebrowscrunched togetherand his eyes squinted in deep concentration. ¡°Well.,gimmewhatyagot then!¡± He barked.


    ¡°He¡¯s not very good at this. It¡¯s kind of cute in a strange way. Like watching a dirt-stained child happily dine from therumpof an ant hill.¡±Apple thought.


    ¡°Oh, but good sir. The coins I own are not enough for your leg, theleg thatseems to have miraculously healed,by the way.¡± Apple gestured with a nod of his head at the man¡¯s right legthat was now once again easily accepting his girth.


    The man¡¯s face began toflushbrightred. His smirk was now replaced with sunken lips that vibrated ever so softly. ¡°Enough of this horse shit!¡± He yelled. ¡°Gimmeyamoney, or I¡¯ll gutyalike a pig ¨C I will!¡± The man drew his sword. An iron spatha with nicks so large Apple could see them from the distance of ten paces that separated them.


    Apple wondered how to proceed. The bandit seemed in no rush to attack him. Perhaps Apple¡¯s confidentdemeanourhad made him wary. If only he knew that Apple¡¯sbehaviourwas a result ofbecomingdesensitisedto being mugged and not because of his martial prowess. The first months of the reign of the Circle was certainly a tough time for him,wandering the open roads in his tattered noble garb; like a beacon to the unsavoury folk that stalked the roads.


    In a way Apple was flattered by this confrontation. Notasingleperson had even attempted to even pickpocket him inthe past few months. Itwasquite amazing what a fresh pair of study clothes, a shave,and no longer smelling like an excitable mongrel will do fora man.


    ¡°Well, yougonnagive menyacoins, or what?¡± The bandit yelled, freeing Apple from hispondering.


    ¡°Tell me, are you alone?¡± Heasked the bandit with a calmness that did not suite the situation.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Are you alone?¡±


    ¡°Yes I¡¯m - Wait!No,I¡¯m not alone. All me mates arehidin¡¯ in the trees, justwaitin¡¯ to fire an arrow upyaarse.¡± He boldly claimed. Enhancing his threat with a few jabs at the air with his sword.


    ¡°My word, he is bad at this. I almost feel sorry for him. So stupid that not even otherlow-livesdon¡¯t want to team up with him.¡±


    ¡°Last chance!Gimmethe coin,or me ¡®n¡¯ the boys aregonnafillyafull of¡®oles!¡±


    Apple cursed himself. He was acting too much like a smug arse, even though the possibility of being slain by this man was very real. All he had on his person was a hatchet and the foggy memories of swordplay. ¡°Sorry, good sir, but I can¡¯t do that.¡± He replied almost sadly. He yanked his small axe from the leather hole it rested in at his waist. ¡°Have at thee!¡± He bellowed, immediately feeling likeapompous foolafter the words left his lips


    The bandit surprised Apple; he charged immediately. Hegripped his sword in both hands and raised it tilted above hisleftshoulder. The bandit¡¯s sudden boldnessstartledApple. Hefailed toregain his composer until the sword had almost met hisflesh.Just before the sharp iron kissed him, his instincts managed to place his hatchet in the blades path. The collision numbed his arm and slammed it down to his waist. Sadly, the hastily formed block was no match for the two-handed swing from the bandit.


    Applewrist began to burn. He insultedhimself immenselywith a barrage of witty remarks.Hehad alsomostly likely already nicked his new axe with that poor move.


    The bandit was on him again,swinging hisdamagedspatha from his hip upwards. Apple managed to dodge this time, returning a quick jab of his fist at the bandit¡¯s nose. The blow was weak but it appearedtobeenough to stunhisopponentfor a moment. Apple took advantage of the moment and swung his hatchet at the man¡¯s chest. The blade met its target,breaking skin and creating beads of crimson liquid.


    Unfortunately, skin was all the blow managed to sever. Apple withdrew the axe and quickly placed it in his other hand. The growing fireinhis once hatchet-wielding wrist told him it would notbe much use in this fight anymore.


    The banditcomposedhimself,swinginghis sword wildlywithsavageintent, forcing Apple to retreat.


    ¡°Swing thy sword! Swing thy sword!¡±Cried an old voice in Apple¡¯s mind. ¡°Swing thy sword! Swing thy sword!¡±It repeated. Apple wanted to ignore the voice¡¯smockingadvice. His vision became impeded by streams of sweat and the numbness of rage.


    ¡°Swing boy! Swing!¡±


    ¡°I am!¡± He roared. His hatchet became a blur, only becoming visible once again when It crashed into the bandit¡¯s bladeand came to a grinding halt.


    Their weapons continued to stop one another. Again, and again. Sparks flew, warming their bare skin.Afrenziedclash of little grace or technique, theconditionof their blades mattered little to them while they fought tosurvive.


    Apple¡¯s sudden rage made him unaware of the screaming of his arm muscles. He had long stopped seeing the scruffy bandit, the cobblestone path,andthe scattered birch trees. Now Apple was in a world long gone. In front of him now was ayouth,atall handsome lad in fitted chainmailwielding a spatha of an elegant design.Besides them both fromalargestable,witha tower of stone looming in the corner of his vision ¨C all surrounded by lush grass planes.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Stop running, boy!Stop using just your shield! Remember your footwork! Swing! Pathetic! Swing!Disgraceful! Swing! Are you really The Red Bison¡¯s grandson! SWING!¡±


    Apple stopped swinging.


    He wasn¡¯t sure for how long, but he regained composer he realised he was swinging at nothing but the air. He looked down on the ground and found his foe.Anill carved mess of deep gauges and bloody pulps riddled his body. Beside him was the shattered remains of his iron spatha.


    ¡°Shit...I didn¡¯t mean to kill the sorry bastard.¡± Hewhimpered,staringhard at the bandit¡¯s corpseandburning every detail into his mind,lesshe may ever forget the butchery he committed today.


    Apple said a prayer, to no deity in particular, for his fallen advisory. He felt shame for what he had done. This bandit was stupid and pitiful, but that wasnot a reason forsucha torturous execution.


    He decided the least he could do was bury the sodor at least cremate him. It wasnotlike he had a shovel and he was awfully busy. A stranger that tried to rob youwas notreally worth at least six hours of manual labour. So, instead Apple began to slowly gather the volatiledwimmerhis palms forthe cremation.


    ¡°Welp, might as well loot him first. Wouldn¡¯t want his stuff to go to waste, after all.¡±


    OnceApple had retrieved teniron coins, seven woods, and a couple of driedbiscuits, he got to work on thecremation.


    He placed one hand on the man¡¯s forehead, the other on his stomach. Thedwimmerthat had been nestling in his hands was sent forth into his corpse.


    ¡°Brinro...Brinro...¡±He whispered,¡°Brinro...Brinro...¡±


    Slowly, the spell began to take effect. Apple¡¯s hands were now glued to the bandit¡¯s corpselike a leech, that wasexactly what he was, a leech.Brinrowas the old word for water and thatwaswhathis hands were feasting upon.


    The bandit¡¯s body began to collapse in on itself, quicklybecoming crinklier than an old man who enjoyeda masochistic relationship with the sun¡¯s rays.


    After aroundten minutes had passed, all of the corpses moisture now resided within Apple. Apple felt disgusting. His whole body swelled and pruned. Water leaked from him in every direction and he no choice but to urinate as soon as he let go of the man. He tried to express hisrevulsionby speaking but as soon as he waggled his tongue and spread his lips, water burst forth from his mouth. He then frantically pulled down his trousers and let loose a torrent of crystal-clear urine.


    After another of ten minutes of chaoticurinating, vomiting,and flailing his bodyin an attempt toflickthe moisture that leaked through his poresof him, Apple got to work on the second part of the cremation process.


    ¡°Bloody shit biscuits! I forgot to give the water an exit!¡± He cried, in between sloshing burps. ¡°Oh,my gods! This feels awful. Water¡¯s my specialty, how the bloody hell did I mess this one up?¡±


    After acouple more minutes of yellingand burping, Apple finally calmed down enough to proceed with the next stage.


    This part was a lot easier than the previous one. All that was needed now was to ignite thehumanraisin, that lied upon the cobblestone floor.


    Once Apple¡¯s hands were completely dry, he again placed them upon the dead bandit. This time it only took a minute for the spell to be cast.


    The dried flesh immediately became consumed in fire,spreadingfrom head to toe, engulfing everything.


    Once Apple was confident the fire would not go out until there were nothing but ashes, he took off, not bothering to see his work in motion.


    As he walked away from the crackling of boneand the smell of roasting flesh. He shook his hands lightly;they ached and burned horribly. ¡°I¡¯m never doing that again.¡± He promised to himself.


    **********


    Once again Apple had found himself in a market. He was beginning to grow tired of the same sights. Same formation of stalls, selling the same merchandise, same buyers,and sellers, all infectedbythe Circle. He wasnot entirely sure what his next course of action would be after he had completed his staff, all he knew so far was that ithopefully no longerinvolvedcrowds.


    Pushinghisintroverted grumblingsto the back of his mind,Appletook off through theborough¡¯ssquare. A smith of some sort was his target for today¡¯s outing, or more specifically: copper. Glorious, conductive copper.


    Tom had told him that there was most certainly a blacksmith somewhere in thisborough calledWestin. Unfortunately, he hadnotmentioned that thisboroughwas on the largerside and the locals all wore sour unwelcoming faces.


    After an hour or so of searching Apple finally stumbled upon a little smithy called: Jim¡¯s Nail. He entered the grey stone building and was welcomed to the sight of metal workings. Scattered around the room were horseshoes, iron chains, nails,and the occasional sword, axe,andwarhammer. It seemed this blacksmith specialised inthemore mundane forging, though Apple expected as much. It would be quite queer to find a weapon specialist in an ordinary old town.


    ¡°Copper you bewantin¡¯lad?¡± Asked a gruff voice.


    Apple looked forward. About ten paces in front of him was a large burly man clad in nothing but a giant apron and bushy black beard. ¡°Yes I¡¯m ¨C huh?¡± Apple halted his answer. How did this person know what he wanted at a mere glance?


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so nervous, lad. Didn¡¯t mean to spookya. I¡¯ve hadnothin¡¯ but strange folkcomin¡¯ to my shopbuyin¡¯ all me copper, thought you¡¯d belookin¡¯ for the same - ¡®tis all.¡± He explainedina tone a slight warmer and friendlier than the tonehe used amoment ago.


    This information allowed Apple to breathe again, but not releasethe tension in his muscles.Strangers were buying this man¡¯s copper, why? It couldn¡¯t be the Circle¡¯s agent. They would justtake the copper and be off again. So, either bronze is making an unexpectedcomeback, orthere wereothersorcerers afoot.


    ¡°Yes...Copper. I would like to purchase some copper, if you please.¡± Apple replied. He decided it was best to get the precious metal and figure the rest out later.


    ¡°It pleases me just fine. How much you bewantin¡¯, lad?¡±


    ¡°A single ingot should suffice.¡±


    ¡°Strange, all the others asked for the same amount.¡± The blacksmith walked away into another room.


    ¡°Well that doesn¡¯t bode well,¡±he thought.


    As Apple stood contemplating what all this could mean, the blacksmith returned. In his hand was the clear sight of a metallic block, the colour of polished rust.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be ten irons, ifyaplease.¡±The blacksmith informed.


    For the third time during this encounter, Apple was disturbed. Ten irons for a whole ingot of copper. Even before theexistence of theCircle copper was still worth a lot more than that. He also found itoddlycoincidentalhowitwas the exact amount of iron coins he looted from that bandit earlier.


    ¡°Yeah, that pleases me greatly. Here¡¯s ten irons.¡± Apple said, as he reached into his coin pouch and retrieved the money.


    ¡°Pleasure doing business withya.¡± The blacksmith replied, as he took the money and in turn gaveApple his new copper ingot.


    Apple didnotutter another word. No small talk or courtesy browsing. Heshouldhavebeenecstatic but the whole scenariohadstraightened the hairs on his body. He originally planned to ask to use the smith¡¯s forge once he got the copper but right now, he had the uncontrollable desire to leave thisborough immediately.


    So that wasexactly what he did. He left Jim¡¯s Nail without a word and walked as fast as one couldfor it to still be considered walking, right out of the borough, until he found somewhere that can loosenthefrightened hairs on his body.


    **********


    Once again Apple had found himself in a forest. He was notentirely sure why he kept finding himself hiding inain a maze of treeswhen he wastroubled. Perhaps it because he felt hidden inthedense trees and bracken. Maybe it was something to do with his magical affinitiesalthough he possessed the most talent for water out of the four elements,although that reasoning would mean he shouldbefindinghimself knee-deep in puddleswhen life got the better of him.Apple eventually decidedthatit was the first reason, no need to get all philosophical about whysomeonehidesin certain places.


    He looked at theingotofcopper in his hand, allthat was left was to melt it intofinewires and craft a wooden shell for the staff. Apple was certainly no expert on the ways of metals but he did at least know that it required a lot less heat to melt copper than iron. Unfortunately, he doubted his handsdevoid of acatalystwould be able to produce enough heat to do the job.Perhapsif he gathered enough wood and dry leaves tofeedhis flames that would suffice. With no better alternative than to risk finding another forge, Apple got to work.

 Chapter 5: The Arcane Aid

    For three daysnow,Apple had been hard at work building a forge. The magician turned merchant possessed no experience in the art of forgingat all, all he had to rely on his brief of observations of the task being performed and that arcane intellect of his.


    What he quickly realised was he needed something to allow the melted copper to take the shape of thin wire. After a day of pondering and using a lifetimes knowledge of some book reading, Apple dug a long trench into the forest dirt, the depth and width of aplump garden worm.


    Afterwards he then made a pot container out offire-mud for the purpose of holding the liquid copper.


    It took two days for those two tasks to be completed, with the third day being nothing but gathering fuel for the future fire.It wasnotuntil the night of the third day when everything was ready.


    On top of a mountain of twigs, bark, logs,anddriedleaves rested a large brown pot with a shiny orange object poking out from its brim. Witheverything ready in place, Apple sat down in front of the pile of kindling, placed his hands on the outer layer, and summonedthedwimmerin his stomachto his hands.


    ¡°Cambigin...Cambigin...Cambigin...¡±Applechantedwith a harsh whisper.


    It took about a minute for the pileof kindlingto smoke and ignite. However, Apple kept his palms on the pile. No ordinary camp fire would melt the copper, he had no choice but to keep pumpingthe element of fireinto the growing flames.


    Long painful minutes past until the entirety of the man-made hill had been consumed byblaze. The waving scarlet weaves sizzled and roared, drowning out the sound of Apple¡¯s mantra.


    ¡°Cambigin...Cambigin...Cambigin...¡±He still uttered,evenwhilsthis hands began to sting withanunnatural redness.


    It was notuntil nearly two hours had passed until Apple finally stopped chanting. His hands never once moved from their position. Even as they begged to be released from their oblivion, even when Apple began to feel blisters form on his fingertips andthe skinon his palmsbecome dried flakesthat fluttered away in the wind. He only gave his hands peace when it became apparent that the fuel feeding the fire had reached its burning limits. Not wanting to waste even a second for the mud pot to cool down, Apple grabbed it with primitive wooden prongs he made earlier and poured it into hisworm-shaped moulds.


    He walked backwards awkwardly as hespilled the molten liquidintodirt mould. Thegooeymetal was quickly emptied andbegan tohardwith asurprisingspeed.


    With nothing left to do but wait for the copper to completely cool,Apple began treating his wounds.


    **********


    Apple wrapped strips of black cloth around his hands, after hours of submerging them in the cold nearby lake. It took almost all the willpower he had to free his hands from the icy-cold water, for as soon as his fresh burns kissed air Apple would scream. With his hands now covered in fabric,Applelamented on his lack of ability toaidhisblistering handsany more. He was lucky that magicianspossesseda small resistance to the elements otherwise the pain he felt right now would havebeen so much greater he would havepassedoutlong ago. For now,he was only merely panting, with only the occasional tear drops leaving his eyes.


    Applehad littlechoice but to ignore the painthat tormentedhimfor now.Applerose from where he sat andheadedtowards wherethe copperwas cooling andinspectedhis work.


    There were dribblesand splotchesof now solid metal scattered everywhere. The wires weretoo fat in some places and too skinny in others. Most of the wireslookedas if therewere a battalion of air bubble trapped inside. Shoddy, shoddy workbutApple expected as much.


    Deciding it was now too dark to do anything else, Apple went to sleep andtriedto ignore the sound of his own screams.


    When Apple awokein the morning, he instantly noticed the feeling of wet scabscrinkling andtearingapartslightly as he carefully moved his hands. He grimaced sourly and carried on his plans for the dayin a foul mood.


    Hefreedcopper wiresfrom their dirt mouldswith his knife, while chewing on a piece of dried venisonas he did so.


    Afterwards he wrapped the wiresaround the grey iron of his staff¡¯s spine. This was a lot harder than hehadanticipated, due to the sharp painsthat now occurred whenever hishandsmovedthis became one of the most painful things Apple had ever done.


    Once the wireswerewrapped tightly and evenly;the next stage was to attach the crystals. First, however, he needed to grind them into a powder so they could be sprinkled evenly across the spine, instead of just bulbous gems scattered across itlike some kind ofprimitive goblin¡¯sstaff.


    This stage tooktheunfortunateApple all morning. Hours and hours of hitting shards of quartz and amethysts with hisdamagedhatchet, hoping theywouldshatter instead of just fly away into vast flora like they kept doingwhen he struck them.Apple lickedthetearsthatfell into hisgrowingmoustache todistract himself fromhis body¡¯s spasms. At least when he finally made thegemssmall enough, he could proceed with the much easier method of placing them in his mud pot and bash themrepeatedlywith his pummelof his knife. Theentire ordealhurt worse than the questionable banter ofanew step-mother.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Next came coating the now copper-clad iron rod in a thin layer tree sap. Apple used the sap ofavoluptuous looking oaktreefrom nearby.


    After the coating, Apple got to briefly experience whatheimagined itwas like to be aforest fairyand playfully sprinkled the crystal dusk all over the stickyironspine. He concluded his fun by gluing the fist-sized amber to the top of the rod. Once he was positive all the three materials of his catalyst were touching each other harmoniously, Apple celebrated with lunchof more rock-hard dried meat.


    With that done, there was only one final stepto dobefore wrapping it in its skin, unfortunately for Applethistaskonce again involved fire.


    In the time it took for a lowly maggot to transform into a common horse fly, mate, and die,Apple had once again gathered a hefty sum of kindling. He was thankful to whatever god was in charge of fire these days that this partof the processdidnotrequire him to place his hands inthe flamesagain.No, all that was needed this time was a strong but normal flame to soften the metals so they couldfuse together. Tree sap was a great holder of materials, butit would notbe capable of coping with the rigorous staff wielding of a homeless magician.


    Although, Apple was still required to start the fire with magic, unless he wanted to spend hours bashing rocks into each other, hoping for a spark instead.


    ¡°Cambigin...Cambigin...Cambigin...¡±He mumbled the old word for fire once more. The rudimentary spell worked, but at a cost of searing hot pain that contorted the flesh and skin of his hands. This basic incantation of his hadannihilatedany sort ofhealinghis hands had undergone since they were first burned.


    With nothing to do while the welding process was in play, Apple once again ventured off to the lake to soothe hissizzlingpalms.


    **********


    ¡°Soon. Soon.¡± Applebuzzed as he washed the smoke covered staff of his.


    It was a new morning and Apple was in a terrific humour now that he was only one step away from completing his first staff. All that was left now was to cover the rod in a protective skin of wood. He knew just the tree. A great and mighty oak tree of about two hundred years of age.Amagiciandid not wantthewood of a treetoo old for the skinwastoo brittle andflaky. Apple was hoping to come across a higher quality wood like mahogany, but decided this sublime oak tree would be just as good, it most certainly had nothing to do hisinabilitytorecognisethe difference between most tree types.


    After washing and drying his precious creation, he fastened it to his back and headed into the forest to find hischosentree.


    After about half an hour of walking Apple found the standing oak and got to work. Deciding he wanted to keep the bark intact for a more naturalruggedappearancefor his staff. He climbed the tree and looked for a branch big enough and strongenough for his staff.


    It didnottakehim long, due to the thicker branchestypicallybeing lower on the tree. He then went through the agonising task of chopping his chosen branch. Forced to grip his axe even tighter than usualbecause of the clothstripswrappedaround his hands,with every minute action causing him tosweat and shudder.


    One final good whack with his iron bladeseparated the branch from its host and crashed to the ground.Apple climbed down after it and continued to chop the wood intothe length his iron rod.


    It would take the grocer the entire day to shape the wood into the magicinsulatingskin he desired.Chipping away splinter by splinter with his knife at the wood¡¯scentre,over and over again. Whenthetip of his knife could no longer reach the slender hole he had dug, Apple stabbed at the hole with various stick scattered across theforestfloors for hours upon hours. Hollowing a piece of wood of around five feet and eight inches was no easy feat, requiring amonotonygreat enough to drive someoneinsanewithboredom. If Apple was not used to days on end of mind-numbingsilence andrepetitivesurvival, he mostdefinitelywould have quit theendeavourlong ago.


    **********


    ¡°I did it! I did it!¡± He proclaimed to the heavens above. ¡°Me, the hopelessacademynovice has created a magical staff completely by myself!¡± What Appleboldly declared to the evening sky wasindeedtrue. For nearly a year the empty-handed magician had been attempting to create something that would once again allow him to wield the forces of nature. Blood, sweat, tears, skin,and most importantly time had been spent on this goal of his. The staff was crude looking and made of materials that a common magician wouldnevereven consider when making their own catalyst,yet Apple loved his creation like an uncle lovedtheirrambunctiousnephew.


    The staff was thick, heavy,andonly an inch shorterthan himself, but Apple didn¡¯t care. How many magicians out there could say that they built theirowncatalyst completely fromnothing? Apple wagered none. Maybe a lower creature like a filthy goblinor akobold, although they typically either inheritedtheirs''sor simply stole itfrom someone else.


    With nothing left to do now but use his new toy:¡°Brinrogwyminumghar. Fliener, fest, teas.¡±He vibrated, his voice echoing slightly, as if he was repeating himself after each other word in a slightly deeper tone.


    With the incantation complete and his new staff aimed at a tree in front of him a torrent of water, shrouded inawhite smoke, slammed into the tough bark with a wet thud. The geyser continued to spring from the faintly glowing amber fixed atop of the staff foraroundeight seconds.


    Once the spell was over and the mist becamediluted by the wind, Apple appraised his attack. ¡°Damn, only some of the bark hadbeen blasted off. With my old wandI couldexpose the innards of a tree withthewidthof a pig¡¯s head.Aboutinhalf the time too.¡± He grumbled. Though, heshould not havecomplainedtoo much. Apple was well aware of the inferiority of his staffwhencompared to the modern-day wands. Besides, this wasnotthe limit of his catalyst¡¯s capability, the more one uses and grows accustomed to theirmagicalaid, the better it becomes. He also couldnotjust blame the staff foritscapabilities, the vast majority of a magician¡¯s power comes from oneself. Appledesperatelyneeded to start training again.


    So, for the next week, thatiswhat Apple did. Hours upon hours ofperformingthe few spells he knewover and over again,followed by intense meditation. If a fighter wishedto become stronger, they must abuse their muscles over and over, forcing them to become stronger to protect themselves. If a magician wishedto becomestronger,theymust look insideof theirown bodiesand force thedwimmerthat fuels their power to grow in magnitudeas muscles do.


    Apple also tried to exercise his body as well as his mindbutalas his burned hands made itexcruciatinglydifficult to move his body in many ways.Over timehe wasat least able toaid in thespeed the healing process with magichowever, he was no healer andknew none of their spells. At least he was able to firm up hisbuttockswith an exercise regime almost entirely made up of squatting.

 Chapter 6: The Forgotten Voyage

    It had been a long time since Apple had gazed upon walls so high. Great slaps of cut grey stone piled on top of one another, reaching a height greater thanfive menperchedon each other¡¯s shoulders. The wallscurved in his peripherals, forming a seal that protected whatever dwelled insideofthem.


    In front of where Apple stood, on the sandy cobblestone path he had traversed for the past half moon, was the sight of a large rectangular hole in the wall,allowing a slight peak to what lurks behind.


    On each side of the hole stood two men, identically dressed ingambesons, tin caps,holdingshortspearsloosely between their hands.


    All of the scenery that bore into Apple¡¯seyescould be summed up into one single word: city.


    He had arrived at one ofLoncia¡¯sfew cities. He had avoided the giant hives of humanoids this past year due to the reasonable fear of what nestles withinthem. Every city has a little of everything. Supplies, weapons, good food and drink,bad food and drink,information, and most importantly companionship.However,that was only one side of the same coin;thieves, rapists, spies, soldiers, and worst of all, magicians, all also residedwithin these walls.


    Apple had avoided everywhere that he believed his magical brethren would be skulking;cities;archaeological sites;ruins;battlegrounds;anywhere he believed a creature bigger than a wolf would live, he hid from them all.


    Hecould nothide forever, unfortunately. Now was the time. His left hand once again felt the sweet embrace of a catalyst. At least if he if hewasever caught by a fellow magic user, he could at least distract them with a few spells,giving him enough time to run away.


    ¡°¡¯Morning. What business you be having in Pier?¡± Asked the gentleman to Apple¡¯s right, as he approached the cities¡¯ entrance.


    ¡°Morning,¡± Apple replied ¡°Just came to purchase some goods and be on my way again.¡±


    ¡°What sort of goods?¡± The fellow to his left chimedin.


    ¡°Oh, nothing fancy. Justsome fish and hopefully a new weapon of some kind. A sword perhaps, heard they¡¯re cheaper these days.¡±


    ¡°Whatyabe needing a sword for?¡±


    Apple gave the man a forced perplexedlook. ¡°You sawnohorse beneath my thighsas I approached your walls now did you?Walking is a slow method of travel, it is.Lots of bandits and wolves waiting to pounce onlone travellers like myself. Got to have something to defend myself with, now don ¡®t I?¡±


    The left man nodded. ¡°Fair enough.¡± He remarked. It appeared that his interrogation was over.


    ¡°What¡¯swith that oversizedwalking stick, you got there?¡± The man of the rightasked as hepointed atApple¡¯s staff.


    ¡°What, this old thing?¡± Apple replied.¡°Wornmyself out on the trip here and needed something to support my aching feet and back. I¡¯ll need its aid for a little longer, but I should be fine in the morning.¡±


    The man stared in silence at Apple for a few seconds. ¡°Alright, come on in.¡± He finally declared. His curious mind now satiated.


    It was a good thing Apple had remembered to hide the protruding amber with wrapped twine a few days ago, you do notsee many walking sticks with gems glued to the top of them, at least not ones so shabby looking.


    ¡°Much obliged¡± Apple gesturedwith a nod and began to proceed through theopen gate into the city of Pier.


    **********


    Apple was sofrustratinglytired of seeing markets. The first location from the entrance Apple had entered was the merchant plaza. It wasnotsurprising, every city flooded their doors with goods, waiting to prey upon the weary travellers that came throughthem. Apple was thankful for his currentattireandhis crudewooden staff; theymadehim reek with the stench of a lowly country bumpkin. Barely any of the merchants tried to grab his attention as he strode past.


    ¡°Where to first?¡±He asked himself. He needed supplies butnot sopresentlyindesperateneed of them. News of current events was a must so an inn would be good idea.It could notbe too hard to find one,as within cities therewastypically one close by the entrance to attractand hosttourists.


    As Apple carried on his pace through the market place, hoping to eventually stumble upon an inn or at least awelcomingpub, he began to hear the faint sound of yelling from the distance. The yelling didnotsound angry nor frightened, the tone way more akin to theslimy voice a merchant used whentryingto get someone to buy their wares.


    Apple was intrigued slightly, whatever this voice was selling, it musthave beengood to be soboisterous about it. Since it seemed to be coming from the direction he was already heading,Apple decided that he might as well check it out.


    ¡°Come one come all! Welcome toPief¡¯squarterly slave auction!¡± Declared a short plump mandressed in finery, stood upon what appeared to bea long scaffold of timber.Behind himstood side by side wasline of about thirty people ranging from a boy,that looked as if had only just recently left his mother¡¯s womb.In contrast to his youth wasa grisly senior thatstaredat the crowd with glazed pupils, almost hidden by large saggy eyelids. All were naked, showing their exotics skin colours and some of their less thanwhat was considered to behuman features. All were shackled together withwrought-irons.Faces of either unbridled fear orapatheticstares met the crowd.


    A slave auctions. This was the second time Apple had been to one these events, the first with his father when he was just a boy,there to purchase slaves to tend to his mother¡¯s newly grown orchids.


    Curious, Apple merged with the large crowd of potential buyers. There were a lot of people at this auction. Most looked too poor to purchase a slave, most likely justthereforpurelyentertainment purposes. The ones that lookedtoable to lose some their coin were either at the very front, or sat stop elevated chairsat the back.


    ¡°I see we have a lot of promising customers this time around, allow me to not disappoint.¡± The plump man continued, rubbing his hands softly and showing a well-rehearsed smile. ¡°Our first item for today comes from the far away land ofTattapon.¡± Hemotionedhishandsto his left, a practised motion that told a slave behind him to step forward. Now besides the slave broker wasa large muscular man whosedarkskin was almost hidden beneath a chaotic mosaic of pink and red scars. ¡°Once a proud solider for his pitiful king, thislionof a man will perform any physical task you give him effortlessly ¨C and with a militarydisciplineandefficencyI might add.¡± He added. ¡°Starting bid, two lead coins for this mighty warrior.¡±


    Two leads, that was more money than Apple had ever seen, although it sounded a fair price for the slave being bargained. Apple missed the days of gold and silvermoney, it was so much easier to tell if something was worth the price.


    ¡°Two leads!¡± Cried a voicesomewhereto the left of Apple.


    ¡°Two leads and five irons!¡± Yelled another.


    ¡°Three leads!¡±


    ¡°Four!¡±


    The price eventually stopped at five leads and eight irons to some fat man sat atop one of the elevated chairs. Apple thought it was a bit pricey for thedarkfellow, but looking at way fatty ever so slightly licked his lips and breathed even heavier than his girth would assume normal, itappearedthe slave meant a lot to the man.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Now, our next itemfor today is a fiery redhead all the way fromDoihamislands.


    **********


    After about forty minutes and thirteen slaves sold, Apple left the auction. He was quite indifferent to the concept of slavery, the strong ruled the weak and that was something Apple knew all too well. His family had owned several slaves,most likelystill do,althoughhe never saw much of them.They tended tomostly tend the fields with the surfs,or destroy themselves inhisfather¡¯stin mines. His mother always said that a good slavewasan unseen slave. Servants inside;slavesoutside.Apple did notreally agree with thatmindsetbut still he had no qualms about owning anotherlivingbeing. However, something about the looks on the majority of the buyer¡¯s facesat this auctionrubbed him the wrong way. He was shocked to realise that as the auction went on, his handshad slowly becomeclenched fists, beckoning thedwimmerin his stomach to come to them.


    The whole affair no longer existed as far as he wasconcered;back tothemission at handof finding an inn.¡°Wait!¡±His mind suddenly cried.¡°I¡¯m right next to the sea. I¡¯m in a city with a dock overflowing with boats. Why the hell am I wandering around with my thumbs up my arse when I can just leaveLoncia? By the gods! Why didn¡¯t It occur to me sooner? I¡¯ve been bloody hiding from the Circle in his own garden this whole time, when I can just leave...¡±Apple paused and gulped.¡°I mean, I¡¯ll come back eventuallyof course, but it will be much easier to prepare myselfto stop himwithout the constant threat of everyone...That settles it, I¡¯m going straight to the docks and hiring a ship!¡±With that decided, Apple headed off towards the docks with a slight skip in his step.


    **********


    In Apple¡¯s new eyes, he did not they see thedull metallic-lookingocean. instead ofthe dullblueeveryone else saw; aboring blue.Ablue no flower nor peacock would ever dress their body¡¯s with,Applesawa field of sapphires twirled by the gales. The dull grey that was so thickly mixed with the blue did not exist in Apple¡¯s mind. It was a pure blue. A cool refreshing blue thatcradled alullabyto himof a bright future.


    Only agenerous five minutes awayfrom the blue, hehad to force himself from running the rest of the way. Best not draw any attention tohimself in his last moments of this accursed island.


    ¡°Ahoy!¡± He yelled at what appeared to be a sailor, that stood upon the wooden planks of the dock.Themaybe-sailor hosteda thick scruffy beard and seemed to inspect the ship in front of him with an expert¡¯s knowledge, for Apple those were enough qualifications for being a sailor.


    ¡°Ahoy!¡± He yelled again, as it seemed the man did not hearhim.No response again. Apple waiteduntil he moved another one hundred stepscloser until hecalledagain.


    ¡°Ahoy!¡±Again,he cried. This time however the man seemed to have heard him and turned his direction. ¡°Ahoy!¡± He now added a wave to his cry.


    ¡°Ahoy!¡± The most-likely sailor finally responded.


    Apple quickened his pace, deciding to not start the conversationuntil he was in front of the man.


    ¡°Isthis your boat?¡± He asked the hairy chap now in front of him.


    ¡°Aye, it be.¡± He replied with ahoarsevoice.


    ¡°Wonderful!¡±Apple grinned uncontrollably. ¡°Are you planning on any voyages in the coming days?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Be actuallyheadin¡¯ off on the morn¡¯. Why lad,yabewantin¡¯yarump on one of me woodenplants, ¡®ey?¡±He asked as he began to rub his hands with a stained washcloth.


    It took Apple a second to decipher what the man had asked him. ¡°Oh yes, absolutely. I wish to purchase a seat on yourvessel.¡±


    ¡°You sure, lad? Youain¡¯teven be told of whereI ¡®n¡¯ me crew beheadin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. As long as it¡¯s not here.¡± Apple so honestly and earnestlydeclared.


    ¡°On the run, ¡®ey? Well Iain¡¯tone to ask what chases a man¡¯s tail, I¡¯m not.All we seaman have had our nubs gummeda tad.ThoughI bewarnin¡¯yalad, thisain¡¯tno passenger ship, ¡®tis for fish ¡®n¡¯salty folk. Your landwalkin¡¯ arse might not be able to ¡®andlethecold mistressthat tickles it.¡±


    Apple was so thoroughly enjoying this man¡¯s accent, he almost forgot to reply to him. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, I¡¯m tougher than I look.¡±He eventually said.


    The sailor nodded. ¡°Alright, be ¡®ere at dusk ¡®n¡¯ we¡¯lltalk coin.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I pay now?¡±Apple responded with a slight tilt of his head.


    ¡°Nah. You¡¯re not the first sod who¡¯s asked to stow on me ship, youain¡¯t. Most ofyaturn chicken ¡®n¡¯ don¡¯t show up. Don¡¯t sit right with me; takin¡¯ a man¡¯s coin withoutdoin¡¯ anything¡¯, it doesn¡¯t¡±


    Apple was quite shocked, hedidn¡¯t expect such just words from a sailor. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll be here at dusk, I promiseyou.¡±


    The sailor grunted inresponse. ¡°Sure. What beyaname ladanyway?¡± He asked.


    Apple thought about coming up with another fake name, but decided it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. ¡°The names Apple. Yours?¡±


    ¡°Apple ¡®ey, queer name, that is.Call me Phil.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you Phil.¡± Apple said as he brought his hand up.


    ¡°Likewise.¡± He remarked as he took hold of Apples hand and shook. ¡°You¡¯re a strange one, you are Apple.Yalook likeyabeenlivin¡¯ in a treeya¡®wholelife, butyasound like a right posh git,yado.¡±


    Apple laughed. ¡°Like you saidearlier, we¡¯ve all got something chasing us.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± He hummed. ¡°Be off now lad, I got work to do.¡±


    ¡°Very well, see tomorrow, Phil.¡± Apple replied, not taking offence at the brashness of the sailor¡¯s words.


    Apple didn¡¯t wait for nor expect a farewell, so he simply turned around and walked off the dock. He was disappointed he was notleaving immediately, but less than a day''s wait was still most certainly a blessing.


    He supposed the best thing to do now washis originalobjective: find an inn.


    **********


    The Bramble Bush.An Inn of standard sizemadealmost entirely of wood like the majority of buildings in the city of Pier.


    Apple appraised the establishment before entering. It looked decent enough in its normality. He was actually worried thatthe sheeraveragenessof it might still be too much for him, especially since he needed money for the voyage tomorrow. A sum he could not calculateright nowand it bothered him so. There was a good chance the lowly magician may have to finally resort to thievery to escape the land ofLoncia.


    Just as Apple was about to open the Bramble Bushes¡¯ door, asudden powerful force struck him from behind;tumbling forward and causing him to bang his head onthestudydoor.


    ¡°Ow!¡± Apple instinctivelyyelped, as most due when they feel pain.


    Whilein a slight daze, he turned towards the source of his discomfort, rubbing his forehead all the while.Satawkwardlyupon the rough groundin front of his feet was what appeared to be agirl, eyes closed from the sudden shock of impact.


    ¡°Look where you¡¯re bloody goingyou little miscreant!¡± Apple scolded.


    The girl looked up at him with a blank expression; unresponsive. She suddenly jumped onto theedge of her toesand darted past Apple, or at least triedto,¡°Oi. Where do you think you¡¯re going young lady? Did your parents never teach you manners?¡± He asked as he grabbed her by the shoulder with his none staff-holding hand and held her in place.


    She opened her mouth but instead of speaking she clamped her unusually large canines around Apple¡¯s burn scarred hand.


    Crunch.


    ¡°Shit biscuits!¡±Apple cursed, as he felt her teeth piece thenewly formedskin on hispalms.


    ¡°All right-all right, I¡¯ll let go!¡± He screamed as he loosened his grip on her shoulder. Apple was thankful that shetoo released her gripas soon as he did.


    Applefell onto his knees and dropped his staffusing hisnowfree hand to cradle thefreshlybleeding one.Apple thought back tears as herememberedhe was in a public place and wished to notembarrasshimself any further.


    As he was absorbed in the task of trying not to cry, he felt a powerful gust of wind fly past his face, quickly followed by a yelp andthena thud. Apple turned his head towards the direction of the yelp and saw the extremely rude girl who had bitten him laid on the ground, her consciousness unknown.


    ¡°Magnificent shot, my Lord! Butisshe still alive?¡± Asked awheezy voicedfrom somewherein the distance.


    ¡°Oh, I believe so, I believe so. Merely a breeze I used on her, Master Henderson, merely a breeze. Although, should she have perished you shouldtrack down thegentlemanwho sold you your new you andask for a refund for such brittle merchandise.¡± A voice that sounded as if its pitchwasalmost entirelyproducedbynostrilsreplied.


    Applegazedat the two men conversingwhilstthey approach him and the girl. The first voice belonged to an overweightman of average height. Adorned in a silk shirt, silk breecheswitha silk jacket that wrapped around the two. A blatant receding hairline of brown, below an oily beard of black. However once Apple gazed upon the second man, all of the previous man¡¯s characteristics were long forgotten.


    Longoilyblack hair. Slanted blue eyes. Beneaththema long-crooked nosewitha thin moustache so heavily waxed, Apple could see the sun reflect of it from a distance,beneaththat. An ever so smug expressionthe man¡¯slips produced, an expression only a lifetime of being pampered and zerohardshipscould create.Although it was the clothes that truly caught Apples attention. A long robe of silks of various vibrant colours swam down his long thin body, almost completely hiding the man¡¯s noblewine-gut. Blues, reds, yellows, greens, purples, and more. Their obvious beauty made the more monotonous white at the centre of the robe stand out. Not to Apple though. Carefully stitched fabric curled into the shape of a big thick Circlepresented itself at the centre of the man¡¯s garb.

 Chapter 7: The Mockery of Power

    ¡°Thank you, peasant boy, for apprehending my new slave.¡± The fat manpraised, though the words bounced of occupied ears,Apple didnotevenhear his wordsor notice that the man now stood before him.


    ¡°Oh, come now, Master Henderson. No need to praise that lout. In fact, I saw him put a filthy hand of his on your new toy. You would notpraise a maid who dirtied your new vasewith her common fingersnow would you Master Henderson.¡± The robe manasked hiscompanion, as he also now stood beside the fat man known as Master Henderson.


    ¡°Youare quite right, my Lord. I must have been spending too much time among the commoners these days. Made me a little soft, I believe so.¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it, Master Henderson.¡± He remarkedas he placed his palm on top of Master Henderson¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°I shall, my Lord. Thank you for insightful words. However, I do believe this peasant at leastdeserves tobe forgotten from our minds. Let us grab the girl and be on our way.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, Master Henderson. I am merelyyourguardian and aidin this scene.¡±


    ¡°Youaretoo modest, my Lord. Were it not for you, who knows if I would have been able to capture my prize?¡±


    ¡°True enough,¡±the robed man causally agreed. ¡°You do, however, at least have the assistance of the city guards.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, I had forgotten about them. Guards! Grab the girl and let us be on our way.¡± He ordered with a snap of his fingers. Almost immediately, Apple felt the presence of two heavy sounding men walk past him. He was notsure when they arrived, they had most likely been with the two richer men since the beginning,Apple wassimplytoo preoccupied with the flashy robeand what itforetoldto notice.


    ¡°Get on out of ¡®ere lad. Go find an apothecary or someone to tend to that hand of yours.¡±One of the guards commandedApple.


    Apple was almost too scared to move. He had actually forgotten the pain and bleedinghe suffered,even though he had been staring at his hand throughout the whole conversation between the men. He was too afraid to look up. Terrified of locking gaze with the robed man. There was good chance the man was capable enough to see what most could not see, behind theboringgrey of Apple¡¯s pupils.


    Deciding it would be worst to stay, he slowlyrose wherehe kneltandshuffledaway, never once raising his head.


    ¡°Wait!¡± A man cried. Apple looked back:¡°You forgot your walking stick.¡± The guard who told him to leave said, as he held Apple¡¯s staff in his hand.


    Apple cursed internally. How could he forget something soimportant?Worst of all, by forgetting it, he had drawn attention to it.


    ¡°Thank you, Sir.¡± Apple mumbled as he took his staff from the unusually thoughtful guard. Not many people would inform someone about their forgetting of a stick.Perhapshe just hated litter.


    ¡°No problem, lad. Surprisingly heavy for a stick, it is. Feels like I¡¯m holding an iron club inmyhand.¡± Apple nodded in response and took off in his previous direction, before anyone more conversation could start.


    ¡°Halt.¡± Aloud nasally voice commanded.


    ¡°Whatisthe matter, my Lord?¡± The fat man asked, confused at his companion¡¯s manner.


    ¡°Forgive me, Master Henderson, I have not walked upon the common streets of Pier in quite some time.Enlighten me, Master Henderson, is it the new fashion for commonersto hold such long sticksbetwixttheir fingers?¡± The robed man asked, trying to meet Apple¡¯s gazeeven thoughApple still had his lowered.


    ¡°No, my Lord. This is the only such case I have witnessed aman holding a branch. Perhaps a crude walking stick?¡±Master Hendersonsuggested.


    ¡°A walkingstick?¡± He hummed, with his long fingers placed upon his chin, stroking hiselgentclefted chin. ¡°Surely not. Thisloutof foul smell has neither stumbled, groaned, wobbled, or so much as limped. Nay, he may have walked away with the knotted back of fear but I detected no pain nor deformity in his steps...Tell me, boy, why do you carry such a large twig?¡±


    It feltas ifhailwascrashing downonto Apples forehead. Ice cold droplets of fear trickled down his face and nestled in his stubble. What should he do? What could he do?


    ¡°It is as the Master suggested, My lord. Tis a walking stick and nothing more. I had aches from my travels, but I¡¯m almost better, my Lord.¡± Apple explained, doing his best to prevent his voice from cracking.


    ¡°I see...Humour me then, boy, why is the top of your stick so tightly wrapped in twine? Why did the guardsman say it was so unusually heavy? Why is it that walking stick of yours has such a queer aura?¡±


    Theairbecame heavy.It seemed all the moisture in Apple¡¯s mouth was now raining down his body.


    He stared at the robed man twenty feet in front of him, still doing his best to not directly meet his stare. It had occurred to him that his catalyst would give off a queer aura, Apple just assumedand hopedthe aura would be so weak that only magicians intentionally looking for it would see it.Itwould seem thisparticularmagicianwas. Apple¡¯s staffgave of anauraakin to thefading warmth of charcoal, the polished stick, held in the robed man''s fingers was more akin to a fresh flame.


    Just before Apple could come up with an excuse, the girl held in one of the guard''s arms awoke with a furious intensity. As soon as her eyelids loosened, she howled andflailed,thrashinghersmall body.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± The guard holding her cursed as he tried to constrict her limbs. A poor action on his part. As soon as he had successfullylockedherbehind her back,herhead lungedupwardsand bit down on his nose. He screamed.


    All eyes were now on the scene of a grown man spinning around wildly while apainfullyskinny girl held onto his nosewith her teeth, like a fish on a hook. Never one to waste a spontaneous distraction, Apple sprinted away from the group of people.


    ¡°Get her off me!Get her off me!¡± The guard begged, while the other guard was trying to do just so.


    ¡°My lord, can you do something?¡± The fat man asked, still doing his best to be polite while he was obviously panicked.


    If the robed manhad heard him, he did not show it. His small blue eyes were focussed upon the fleeing fruit.


    ¡°Potiagingwyminumgar,wordenveltaiondfligen!¡±The robed man bellowed, withthe wand in his hand pointed directly at Apple.


    Apple was fortunate the robed man casted his spell so loudly, while volume does help cast spells, it also makes it incredible obvious to fellow magicians what they are casting. Even to Apple¡¯s barely trained ears, he easily recognised the basic air spell: wind arrow. As soon as he heard the loud overlapping echo of an incantation, Apple began his own. ¡°Potiaginwordenbarraastyterond...¡° Before whispering the final word, he spun on his heel, aiming his staff at the robed man. ¡°Cingo.¡± He flourished, with thefinal word of the spell being declared.


    The twine bound around his staff was torn to shreds by an invisible force as soon as the last word left his lips. A breath before theinvisiblearrowwas about to strikeApple, his spell activated. Wind wall. Another basic air spell that was a must for all magicians to learn.


    From the tip of his amber came a raging spiral of wind. A spiral large enough to cover Applefrom head to knees in a shieldof gales.The wind arrow wastornapart by the raging current and instead of seriously injuring Applethe attack was only left witha gustof airstrong enough to wobble his hat.


    ¡°Well, well, well.Whatbringsa sorcerer to my humble city?¡± The robed man asked with mock politeness.


    ¡°Oh, you know...Seagulls.¡± Apple replied as his spell came to its end.


    ¡°Seagulls?¡± He repeated inconfusion.


    ¡°Yes, seagulls. Big white birds with yellow beaks. You must be spending too much time in your cosy manner, mylordif you have yet to witness the sight of a majestic gull.¡± Apple replied, his confidence returning after managing to block the fellow magicians attack fairly easily.


    ¡°What the bloody abyss are you talking about?¡±The robed man spat.


    ¡°You got wax in your ears? Gulls, good Sir, gulls.Nature¡¯smischievousflyingpaupers.¡±


    ¡°My Lord! I do not wish to interrupt, but the girl has escaped.¡± The fat manmoaned, interrupting the two magic wielder¡¯sseeminglymundane conversation.


    ¡°Silence fool!¡± The robed man roared. ¡°I care not for the newtargetof your perversions. I have a much more urgent matter at hand.


    ¡°Oh my, I¡¯m flattered.¡± Applerepliedwith aflamboyantbow to further show hisappreciationfor the compliment.


    ¡°What happened to the cowering lout from a moment ago?Donottell me that this newfound boldness comes from blocking such a novice spell?¡± He chuckled.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d be lying if I didn¡¯t say it was a bit ofaconfidencebooster.¡±


    The robed man smirked grotesquely, his lips forming deep black creases. ¡°It appears that Iam being underestimated. Allow me torectifythat.¡± He continued to speak but Apple could no longer hear the man¡¯s words. He once again aimed his wand at Apple. It seemed a fight was inevitable. Unfortunately for Apple, the robed man was now being smart enough to make his incantation unknown.


    Unsure on what to do, Apple castedwind wall once more and prepared himself.


    Instead ofanotherwind arrow, this time a wild stream of redand orangegushed from the ruby at the tip of the man¡¯s wand.


    Apple¡¯s wall held true, but it required a lot more power this time around to shred the torrent of embers. Any fire he managed to divert from himself was quickly replaced by moreand moreflames. He could feel the heat singe the tip of his hair. The fresh bite wound on his hand began to cauterise and sizzle.


    ¡°Youare looking a little flush, sorcerer. Where did all that confidence of yours go?¡± The robed man taunted, as fire continued to pour from hiswand.


    ¡°Flush, me?¡± Apple gasped. ¡°I¡¯ve hadbaths warmer than this.¡±


    His foe laughed,¡°Iwouldbe more inclined to believe your retort if I couldnothear your pained breaths and smell the succulent smell of cooking meat. Itisunfortunate that my flames are growing solarge.Pity they arenow hiding thatdespaired face Iamcertainyouaremaking.¡±The robed man moanedwith pleasure as his spellcontinuedto attempt to engulf Apple in arighteousfire.


    Apple was about to make a wittyretortbut decided heshould focus all of his energypreventinghimself from burning to deathinstead. He was managing to ward of the fire so far but he doubted he could do it for much longer.Thewind element was not exactly a great way to block fire, it had a bag habit offeeding the flamesmaking thembigger.Applewas also extremely venerable right now. If a guardsman was stillskulkingaround all it would take is for him to leisurely approach from Apple¡¯s side andcausallyplace their spearsin between his ribs. It was times like this when he wished he had put more effort into learning multi-casting, or just casting in general.


    ¡°You know, Iam only using a fraction of my power.¡± The robed man boasted as he continued his onslaught.


    Apple ignored hiswords; his eyeshowevercould not help but roll at his foe¡¯s constant need to pat himself on the back. He also continued to pour more and more of hisdwimmerinto his windshield, yet eventhat could only be a short-term solution. Apple doubted he would be able to win a battle of¡°whohoststhe mostdwimmer¡±. A memory flashed in his mind of the first time hisdwimmermagnitude was measured. Such pityinglookshis mentorhadgivinhim.


    ¡°I can feel your shield weakening, sorcerer. Itwould appear thatour bout is coming to its ¨C SHIT!¡± The robed man wailed. The seemingly never-endingbreath offlamesendedsuddenlywith only a brief curse as a warning.


    Apple was unsureas towhy the magicianhadstopped his spell,it did not matter,he wasnotgoing to miss this opportunity. With the elements still under his control, he flungthem backat his opponent. ¡°Thro, thro, thro! Opotiagan,flienerondfest.¡± He chimed.Thevortexin front of him, engulfed in flames,began to shrink insize. Once it was only the width of a melondiditcatapultforwardin a haze of twirling inferno.¡°Thro, thro, thro.¡±Applecontinued to mutter, as the spell darted forward with an increasing speed.


    It appeared to Apple that his opponent was not coming up with any rebuttalto this attack. A surprising victory just winds away; Apple was curious as to what was preoccupying the robed man.


    His silk-covered back was facing away from Apple and he appeared to be stomping furiously. Even more curious,and slightly insulted, Apple craned his head to the side to try and get a glimpse of what was stealing the man¡¯s attention.


    The girl! Her body laid still upon the ground oncemore. Thistimehowevershe was under the barrage of a heavy lookingblackboot.


    Apple cancelled his spell instinctively. The fire tornado lost its shape, rapidly becoming dilutedinthe air. Only fluttering wisps landed on his foes silk robe. Afraid of hitting the girl if he used another spell, Apple charged at the man. Running with an animalistic pace, he erased the gap between them in the timeit took for him to take along-painedbreath.


    His advisory noticed his silhouette too late. As he turned to face the sorcerer, Apple struck him in the face with his oversized catalyst.Themagicianand his gaudy robe collapsed to the ground with awetcrackingboom.Henowlaid directly beside the girl he himself had renderedpronejust a moment ago.


    Apple stood over the potbellied man. Noticing his eyes still flickered, he drew his hatchet and prepared for the final blow. Sadly, as he was about to make an overhead swing, the whizzing of an arrowdarting past his earforced him to refocus his attention.


    ¡°Kill him! Kill the sorcerer!¡± The fat man screamed. It seemed he had gone and broughtreinforcements while they were battling.There had to be at least a dozen guards surrounding the man, some of them holdingaccusedbows.


    ¡°What an annoying pig.¡± Apple said to himself. Not risking the time, it would take to kill the unconscious magician, Apple dropped his axe and scoped the girl intohis arm. He at least made sure to step on the robed man¡¯s face as he fled from the guards.


    Applesawall too clearlyand heardall too well thearrows flytowardshim as he sprinted away. It wasa good thing guardsmando nottypicallyget to practice with bowsveryoften. As Apple thought that, he felt a sharp sting on his arm and saw the arrowthattore a slit into his leather coatdart past.


    ¡°After him you curs! He¡¯s running away with my new toy!¡± Apple heard Henderson oink in the distance. That man had a surprisingly powerful voicewhen he was angry.


    The downpour of arrows thankfully came to an end when Apple began to weave through more densely populated areasofPier. He wasnotintentionally using bystanders as meat shield anddeterrentsforthe guards, he just didnotknow the city well enough to slip through its hidden cracks.


    While he had so far managed to outmanoeuvre the guards,Applestill needed to figure out a destination. He could not outrun them forever. But where could he go? He had incurred the wrath of the local magician and a wealthy pervert. He could hide in the woods but if the guards mount horses while he runs through open plains, hewould be slaughtered in an instant.


    Apple did notknow anywhere he could use as sanctuary. A temple? Hewouldrather die than rely on that accused shape. First things first;he needed to lose the guards ¨C fast. His lungs and legs burned from the extra weight he was carrying.


    While he still pondered hisfuturesafe house,Applemerged with the hive ofpeopleand weaved through itsanatomy. Using every ounce ofdexterity,he possessedhe danced through the masses of bodies, almost managing to never touch a single soul. However, he lacked enough skill to not whack the occasional person with his staff oraccidentallyslap them withthe limp legs that protruded from the frail creature in his arms.


    He could still hear the thundering of guardsfortunatelytheyweregraduallybecomingmuffled by the swarm of soft bodies andthenimble distancebetween them.


    Unfortunately, the mass of humans ended quicker than Apple expected. He was now in a street with only a few scraps offolkresiding in it. The guards will soon be upon himonce again.


    "Acrack!¡±Hismind cheered; anarrow gap between two buildings.


    A narrow gap indeed. A width so small, Apple had no choice but to awkwardly shimmy between it sideways.


    He found himself on another street once he made it through the open-air tunnel. He could no longer see any guards, but itstill was notgood enough. He needed more and more distancebetween them. Apple continued to sneak through the crevices of the city. Some so long that almost no light could penetrate,othersso narrow his nose scraped across the jagged wooden wall in front of him,withthe girl he clutched tightlyin his arm, her limbsgrating against the roughness of the walls.


    Sixalleyways laterandApple finally found shelter. A tiny house, barely held together by rotted wood. Its ugliness and the invasion of moss and grass that infected itmade Apple confident it was uninhabited. As he drew closer, his eyes began to water from the scent of urine of variouscreatures andfreshness.


    Freeing his left hand, he placed it upon the damp wooden door and pushed.Atfirst itrefused to budgebut asApple began to apply more and moreforit finally creakedopenwith a horrendous stiffness.


    Just enough light entered through the cut square holes in thehut¡¯swalls for Apple to see. Though there was nothing worth seeing, apart from a broken chair and table, the odd patch of moss, the building was barren.


    Apple walked to the corner of the room and placed his coat on the ground. He then gently placed the still unconscious body in his grip onto the leather coat. Apple whispered a quick spell and the amber of his staff glowed softly with an orange tint. He slowly hovered the light over thegirl''sbody, inspecting the lit areas with a scholarly mind.


    Apple, at this moment, had only now realised the girl was completely naked. He suddenly felt uncomfortable but it quickly disappeared when he remembered he was currently looking at a mere child. A child covered in many, many injuries.


    Two bloated eyes the colour of stained velvet. Swollen lips caked in dried blood. Her features almost completely hidden under the hills of blues, blacks,and reds.¡°That must have been one heavy boot the robed man wore.¡±


    Apple was unsure on what to do. He had very little healing knowledge and also had his own wounds to tend to, one of which was inflicted by her. What if she wakes up and bites himagain?This strange girl had bitten every single person who had touched herso far. Rightnow,she had proven herself to be nothing more than a beast in Apple¡¯s eyes. A beast that saved his life, however. Apple wondered if that was intentional or just a fortunate coincidence ofher feral personality.


    After staring at her grotesque face for several more seconds, Apple sighed heavenly. He retrieved a piece of cloth from his pocket and aimed his staff aboveit. After half a minute of silent spell casting, small lumps of ice trickled from the air in front of his staff¡¯s heart and landed on the cloth. Once he hadcreatedadecently sized pile of ice, he sealed the cloth around the frozen water and place ituponthe girl¡¯s face ¨C quickly making he wasnot blocking any airways.


    With that done, Apple inspected her body foranysigns of broken bones. He gently applied pressure ontoher rips but could feel nothing out of place. He also received the same verdict for her arms andlegs,thatwas good newsatleast. Apple had no ideahowto mend broken bones. He also saw nofreshcuts on her skin, Apple was glad he didnothave to put his sewing skills to the test.¡°She was one lucky girl... Probably,¡±Applethought.


    With herneeds satisfied for now, Apple began to tend to himself.


    He was actually shocked to find that the robed man¡¯s flames had indeed cauterised the puncture wounds on his hand. Not botheringto use another piece of cloth, Apple rained icy hail upon his hand, numbing it from the hotscratching that had been assaulting it.


    Now noticing just how cold it was in the damp room now that his hand no longer screamedat him, Apple wrapped his coat around the girls shivering body and casted a spell.


    Acrimson orbthe size of aman¡¯scurled fist floated around the room. Applewilleditto movewith his mind, makingitoccupy the corner of the room theybothresidedin. Apple basked in its warmth as it buzzed past his body. With nothing to do right now, Apple used the glowingorbasa tool to train his magic control.He made it spin, pulsate, dart backwards and forwards. A boring game indeed yet it was just enough to distract him from the pain in his body anddrynessof his mouth.


    Twenty minutes past and theorbeventually vanished. Its master¡¯s head slumped forward and the faint sound of snoringbegan to start. Exhausted from the battle andall of therunning, Applefell into a deep slumberwhile he sat crossed legged next to the girl who had saved himandnowhe himself had saved.

 Chapter 8: The Long Step Forward

    Apple awoke to the resistance of fused eyelids. Lazy crust had formed outside his eyes whilsthe had slept. Blink after blink after blink, until the skincurtainsdrapedaroundhis pupils returned to their normal position.


    He scanned his surroundings while he stretched and groaned. Itappeared thathe was still in the damp room he had used forshelterearlier, except now there was not a single haze of light entering through the cut holes of thehut¡¯swalls. Apple must have slept until nightfall.


    He rattled through his memories, as theystillremainedhidden somewhere behind his grogginess.


    ¡°The girl!¡±Apple suddenly remembered thathe had fled from the city¡¯s guard with astrangegirl in his arms andhadhidden themselves in thisrandomderelictshack. He looked towards the corner of the roomwherehe had placed the girl and found her sat there, staring at him with bright yellow eyes.


    Apple fumbled in the darkness, searching for the rough texture of his catalyst. He did not feel safe without out it and wished to use it to conjure a lightorb. Apple¡¯s heart began to race and his blind search failed to find what he needed. His sight darted across the room frantically in search of his staff.Itdid nottakehim long to notice the faint shine of amber laid across the strange girl¡¯s lap.


    ¡°Give me my staff back.¡± He ordered in a neutral tone. Yet, if she heard his request, she did not show it. She just continued to stareback at himwith wideeyes the colour of daffodils.


    ¡°I mean it, girl. Don¡¯t make metake it from you.¡± He saidagain,stilltrying his best to not sound too threatening.


    Again, shesimplyignored him.


    With no other option Apple could see, he sighed and walked towards her. He crouched low and moved slowlyin anattempt tolookless intimidating.


    As soon as he got within arms distance ofher,she scowled fiercely and aimedthe amber of his staff at him.


    Apple paused. ¡°You know not just anyone can hold a catalyst and make a fireball fly out of it. You tend to need some training and have some goodol¡¯dwimmerflowing through yourveins.¡± Appleinformedthe girl.Yet, she still continued to scowlat him,causingAppletoonce againlet out another tiredsigh.


    ¡°Look, little lady. I¡¯m not going to hurt you. If I was, I would have done it by now. Doesn¡¯t make a lot of sense to risk my life protecting you and treat your wounds, just to incinerate you at the end, now does it?¡±


    Nothing. She just stared at him as if he was an exotic-looking beast. Every time Apple moved his body forward a mere inch, she growled and jabbed the air with his staff.


    Apple in turn stared right back at her, his eyes beginning to adjust in the dark. From what he could tell her facial swelling had gone down a bit, since he had covered it in ice. ¡°Wait a second!¡± Apple yelled to himself. ¡°Can you even understand me?¡± He then asked her.


    Nothing but silence and a seemingly never-ending glare was all Apple got for an answer. It was certainly possibly, Pier was a docking city full of people from various lands. Hestill could notquite seeall thedetailsof herappearanceand was too preoccupied earlier to noticethem as well. She certainly did seema bitdifferent from the folk Apple hadcome acrossso farinLoncia.


    Tanned skin, yellow eyes, and above average sized canines, maybe shepossessedother queer features hidden in the darkness.


    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know if you can understand my words, but surely you recognise my intent.¡± Apple gestured with an open palm:¡°I need thatwood in your handsto protect the both of us...Tell you what, how about a trade?¡± He bargained, even though he was almost certain she could not understand him.


    Apple reached into a pouch strapped to his belt with his gesturing hand and produced several pieces of deer jerky. ¡°Here,¡±he said as he moved the jerky closer to her. ¡°I bet you¡¯re quite famished.¡±


    The girl stared hard as the dried meat in Apple¡¯s hand.With a surprising speed, she snatched the jerky out ofhisloose grip and wolfed it down in oneswiftmotion.


    ¡°Oi!¡± Apple barked. He was annoyed at her rude behaviour, but was even more frustrated by how easily she had stolen from him. He was getting dangerously close to taking his staff off her by forcenow.


    He took several deep breaths and eventually calmed downsomewhat. He decided hewould give this girl one final chance to hand it over peacefully, before he had to risk being bit in the potential scuffle they might have.


    ¡°This is my finaloffer, you turn this down and I¡¯ll personally hand you over to thatfat fellow.¡± Apple paused andretrieved the iron knife from his belt, holding the blade towards himself.¡°If you give me that,¡± he pointed to his staff, ¡°I¡¯ll give you this knife. You can¡¯t use magic and my catalyst is a bit too big for you to use as a club.¡±


    He looked at the girl with intense yet placid eyes, while he awaited her decision.


    After about a minute, sheslowly stretched out her arm and gripped the knife¡¯s handle. Applefollowed suite and slowly took hold of his staff. Once Apple felt the girl¡¯s gripon his staff loosen, he releasedhis on theknife; carefully they swapped weapons.


    ¡°Welp, I lost my only knife and a days'' worth of food, but at least I can once again manipulate the elements, damn shame I¡¯m not very good at it.¡± Apple grumbled, as he now once again possessedhismagical catalyst.


    With their exchange complete Apple was unsure what to do next. He began pacing around the room. He had notforgotten his plan to board Captain Phil¡¯s ship, but the matter of getting there was giving him a headache. Another conundrum was what to do with the girl.He could notjust take her with him ¨C even if he could afford the coin to. He didnot know anything about her except she was most likely a slave and may have a taste for man-flesh.


    So, what was he to do? Apple highly doubted he could find someone to take care her and he hadalreadylost too much for her sake to just abandon her. His health, his food, his knife, his safety had all been forsaken because of this random girl.


    ¡°Can you understand me?¡± He asked again, just to be sure.


    No response excepted for the slightest tilt of her small head.


    ¡°Yes...¡± Asmallhoarse voice answered.


    Apple threwhis entirebody in her directionin a suddenact of bewilderment. ¡°What! You can understand me?¡± He asked a third time. This time she simply nodded her head up and down.


    ¡°Then why the bloody abyssdidyou not said anything?¡± He scolded.


    ¡°Scared.¡±


    ¡°Scared?¡± He repeated. ¡°You? The girl whohastaken a bite outof at least three grown men, two of which were magicians.¡±


    ¡°Scared,¡±was again her explanation.


    The way this girl replied and her hunched stature reminded Apple a lot of a cornered animal and those are the ones that tend to be the most fearsome as well.


    ¡®I see...¡± Apple untied the water skin from his side and handed it to the girl. ¡°Drink, your voice sounds awful.¡± It appeared she was reluctant to accept the leather bag. ¡°It¡¯s not poisoned.¡± He affirmed his statement by taking a small swig of the skin¡¯s contents.


    She eventually excepted the water skin. As soon as the first nervous drop fell down her throat, she proceeded to inhalethe entirety of the liquid with adesperatepassion.


    Apple decidedwouldtoo have a drink,realisinghe was struggling to talk as well due to his dry mouth. He raised his staff above his mouth and invoked water to fall from the amber. The water was neither warm nor cold,nor bad or good. There something about drinking something that could be described as¡®nothing¡¯, Apple found uncomfortable. Also, for some reason magically created water doesnotsatiate a person quite like normal water, although it was certainly better than nothing.


    ¡°So...Do you have a name?¡± Apples asked the girl, attempting to fill the sudden silence.


    ¡°Mula.¡±


    ¡°Mula ¡®ey. Never heard that name before.Where are you from, Mula?¡±


    ¡°Mula don¡¯t know.¡±She replied quietly. A strange accent was becoming more noticeable with every word she spoke.


    ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know? Surely you must know the name of your country, or at least the village you grew up in.¡±


    ¡°Mula doesn¡¯t know what country is. Mula walk alot.¡± She explained.


    ¡°I see...¡± Apple hummed. ¡°Wherever it is, it can¡¯t be too far fromLoncia. I may have slept through most of my history classes, but I at least know thatLonciaowns only a few insignificant islands, all of which are close by. I guess yours must be one of older ones, since we both share the same tongue.¡±


    ¡°Mula don¡¯tshare tongue. Mula have own.¡±She opened her mouth andpointed at her tongue to affirm her statement. ¡°See.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a figure of speech.¡±


    Mula responded with a blank stare and a slight crane of the neck.


    ¡°So, do you remember how you got here?¡± Apple asked, changing the subject.


    She hung her head. ¡°Mula was sleeping, then Mulawake tied onweird house thatmoveson water, like a frog. So much water, take years for Mula to drink it all.SoonMula on ground again.Men make her stand withothers in front of many men. Fat man buy Mula but Mula take key to chains when no one is looking.¡±


    ¡°But they saw youeventually.That¡¯swhy you bumped into me. You werefleeing your captors.¡± Apple interrupted.


    She nodded. ¡°Yes. They notice but Mula fast. Ran and ran until I ran into you. Bit you then hit my head. Woke up to you fighting scary colourful man. He somehow makes fire come out of stick without rubbing it with another stick. You stop fire with large stick. Mula bit scary man and now Mula here. Tried to make fire with your heavy stick, but Mula couldn¡¯t do it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be surprised if you did. You need magic tosummon the elements, regardless of how good your catalyst is, or how hard to wishfor it to work.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s magic?¡± Mula asked with emptyeyes.


    Apple hesitated. He wasnotsure how to answer. He was notparticularlysure what magic was himself either,although he supposed a very basic explanation of it would satisfy her.


    ¡°Hmmm...That¡¯s a tricky question. I guess simply put:magic is the term used to describe a phenomenon of unnatural ability, which is created by an individual. Whether it be with the aid of nature, spirits, or an energy that few people possess calleddwimmer.¡± Apple informed her. He thought to dumb down his knowledge on the subject but after explaining it, it occurred to him that he had told her all he knew.


    ¡°Mula doesn¡¯t understandmany words. Use words Mula knows.¡± She huffedwith crossed arms.


    ¡°Oh.Sorry, I forget most commoners don¡¯t have an extensive vocabulary.¡± He said more to himself, than the girlfrowning at him.¡°Anyway. I think the best thing to do right nowto get some rest.We¡¯ll talk later¨C probably.We¡¯ll head out when the night is at its darkest.¡±


    ¡°But Mula nottired.¡± She complained.


    ¡°Well get tired. Lie down and I¡¯ll make some more icefor your face.¡± He told her as once again began casting a water spell, laced with wind.


    ¡°What you do whileMula sleep?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to keep guard andsee if I can figure out some temporary clothing for you.¡±


    Mula stared at him slightly for several minutes before she finally responded. ¡°Kay, Mula sleep...Please don¡¯t touch Mula.¡± She asked, her croaky voice getting quieter with every word.


    ¡°Why would I touch you?¡±


    Mulafailed torespond,shetook the fresh ice-filled cloth from Apple and retreated back into the corner. Apple noticed that even as her breathing become softer and slower, the grip on her new knife never loosened in the slightest. She laid on her back, her ice-covered face looked blindly at the ceiling, her hands rested the blade on her chest like a bouquetof flowers.


    Apple took a deep breath and straightened his back. While he did plan on guarding the girl, he couldnotafford to waist the free time he now had. He had used about three quarters of hisdwimmertoday and desperately needed it all back. Without potions orelixirs, the next best method was meditation. He thought about telling Mula, but decided he couldnotbe bothered to explain what meditation was.


    He joined his fingertips together, hovering them several inches in front of his stomach. After about ten minutes of calming breathing techniques,Applevisualised a white pulsating sun dwelling within his gut.Hethenimagined ropes of light coming from all directions of his body; wrapping themselves around the orb likea ball ofyarn.


    Slowly and slowly he added to the ball, too quick and it would become looseand it could causeApple vomitas well. The process was already causing him discomfort. It feltas ifsomeone had placed their knuckles upon his stomach and was causally applying pressureever so slowly. Every so often the pain would become too intense and Apple would have to start the meditation process anew. If only he had learned how to absorb the glowingenergy of the moon and stars, another thing to add to his to-do list.


    **********


    Three hours passed, or at least that was the amount of time Apple assumed had gone by. The sky was no longer black and instead a thick greyhungin its stead. A dull almost calming monochrome that signalled the arrival of dusk.


    Apple decided it was now the best time for him and his new companion to head out. The streets should still be mostly devoid of any bipedal life and he and Mula had rested to a level he was almost satisfied with. Most of hisdwimmerwas back and warming his stomach, even despite falling asleep on several occasions throughout his meditation.


    He stood up and walked up to the still sleeping Mula and nudge her gently with his foot. ¡°Mula,Mula,¡±hewhispered.


    At first, she merely grumbled and tossed in response but after a couple softer kicks, she arose with a slump. The soaked cloth that rested on face fell upon her lap with a squelch.


    ¡°Rise and shine, girl. We¡¯ve got a big dayaheadof us.¡± Apple informed her, even though he still had no idea what to do with her. At this point, he was just hoping an epiphany would strike him as they headed off to the docks.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± She yawned.


    ¡°To the beach. There we should be safe.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a beach?¡± Hercurious child mind asked, as she rubbed therheum from her eyes.


    Apple was truly amazed at the ignorance of his new prot¨¦g¨¦. ¡°Why, a beach is whattheycall the place where the land meets the sea. Usually the land part is made of sand or pebbles, or a combination of the two.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯ssand?¡±


    Apple was almost speechless. ¡°My word!¡± Almost. He did notconsider himself a curious sort but this girl truly wanted to make Apple investigate thesheerlack of awarenessthatstreet urchins possess. Though, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense that someone who hadnomeansto travel would be knowledgeable about things unknown to them, especially ones so young.


    ¡°Never mind that.¡± He finally answered. ¡°You¡¯ll see what it is soon enough. Put this on, anyway.¡± Apple removed his shirt and handed it to Mula. It was the only piece of clothing he owned that was notso big it would cause her to trip on it.


    She surprisingly obeyed immediately and armoured herself with Apple¡¯sstainedonce-white shirt.He also gave herthe sheath for her new knife and his hat for extra warmth andto help hide her uniquefeatures.Appleonce again put his leather jacket on and took hold of his staff. There was little point him trying to disguise himself thanks to his oversized catalyst.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Follow me. Try to be asquite as possible.¡± He ordered.


    ¡°No problem. Mula sneaky.¡± She boasted.


    **********


    They clung to walls like shadows. Weaving throughthememories of Apple¡¯s travels inthe city.Slow and steady, only ever making the briefest appearance on the wide streets whenno other option could be seen.


    Luckily, so far, all Apple had come across was thesqualor holesof the homeless and the occasionalhalf-awakeguard. The guards frightened him butluckily,they hadfar all of them had remained static, fulfilling their role as guards and not hunters. However, Apple didnotallow their morbidity to relax him, there was no noble in existence that would forget such humiliation he and the girl had broughtto them.


    Apple ate a breeze of cold air and pressed on.


    It would seem that their journey has taken them tomarket district. There Apple sawover a dozen of people assembling stalls of various sizes. Apple could feel the front gate of Pier beckon to him now that he was so close.Too late for that, however, Apple was confident that thereweresoldiers lurking under its frame, waiting for them.He turned from the direction of thedoor and ventured on.


    Moreand moreweaving and sneaking,onlyeverinterruptedbythe occasional twist of sneaking and weaving.


    As the air grew colder and became seasonedby thefreshseasalt, Apple knew he was close. He frowned every time he turned and looked at his companion behind him. Such a frail thing with nothing but a thin shirt to ward off the chill. Even her feet were bare and Apple could see them shakeand hop from the chill of the ground. The vulnerability he saw invigorated him; forced to movewith a greater haste.


    A sudden stingpenetrated his mind. Only for the fractionof a second it came and went. Something sharp and hot. Something that barkedhatred and barbarism.


    ItwouldtakeAppletoo longto figure out what itforetold.


    A lump of heat slammed into the wall besides,followedby a plume ofgreat heatthatscolded Apple¡¯s arm.


    ¡°I found you sorcerer!¡± A muffled nasally voicecackled.


    Apple recognised the voice immediately. Asharpcondescendingtonehe never wanted to hear again. He turned instinctively and had his confirmation on the voice¡¯s owner.


    ¡°Itisgood to see you again, sorcerer. I was sad that our bout yesterday was interrupted by Master Henderson¡¯s new mutt. Oh! I see that you haveclaimedthe bitchas your own.¡± He whistled in delight.¡°Magnificent! Now I donot have to wastemytime looking for the both of you.¡± The robed man cried. Beside him were two guards, armed with short spears and little round shields.


    Apple began to invoke a spell without the use of words, a technique he was woefullyunskilled at. It was a simple spell, yet it could take minutes for it tobreathe life. Apple needed to stall.


    ¡°Lovely to see you again,¡± he paused. ¡°Forgive me, but it seems I forgot to ask you your name during our last encounter.¡± Apple noticed the man¡¯s right eye was now hidden behind a piece of cloth that was tied around his head. His face was also an impressive display of reds and purples.


    ¡°Ah, it seems that wandering confidence of yours has made an appearance. Oh my; oh dear.I want to burnyou everso badly.¡± He shuddered and grasped his shoulderstightly, digging his nails into the pink of his flesh. ¡°But I am abenevolent noblemanbefore arighteous-warrior. The name is Chester Magen Maxwell Ramm, third of his name. Ward of Ram¨®n household and esteemedEspavailier.¡± The man boasted, his pride almost visible as it poured from hisprestigiousnostrils.


    Apple smirked,¡°I actually outrank you, good Chester, or at least I did. Youso-called warrior,being able to fling fire doesnotmake you a warrior, you stuck up git.Also, what the abyss is anEspavailer?¡±Applemusedto himself, although hewas most certainly not going to say any of those thoughts to his unhingedopponent.


    ¡°My, what a wondrous name. Many men must envy you for possessing such an esteemed title that shines with suchapedigreeandheritage.¡± Apple replied; trying not to visualise the magician¡¯s arse while he kissed it.


    ¡°You sure are an accomplished groveler,¡± Chester praised. ¡°You may have made a good servant in a different life. Sadly, for you that is, in this life you are faced with a man whoseems to be unable to stop imaging your skin turning black as coal and flaking off your body like dried paint. Oh, how I remember the smell of your flesh as it cooked yesterday.¡± He grinned. The slightest peak of his tongue through the tight gap of glossy flesh.


    Apple wanted to vomit. The battle of emotions he felt while conversing with this man made it incredibly difficult to focus of casting his spell. ¡°You¡¯re a bit of a twisted bloke, now aren¡¯t you.¡± Was the tamest thing he could musterinresponse?


    ¡°Twisted? Oh my no. Only a fondness for burning things, as all of us who are favoured by the red possess. You would notcall a cook twisted for roasting someham,now would you?You should be pleased that it was I who found you two. My compatriot from yesterday had much different plans on what to do with the two of you, especially the girl. What I want shall be over ten minutes at most.He on the other hand, didnotplan to kill you at all. What a twistedlittlefellow he is.¡±


    Apple could hear Mula beside him growl.She clutched the knife with white knuckles and ever so slowly walked backwards.


    He was close now, just another minute and his magic would he ready.


    ¡°Oh my, should wondrous words of wisdom. Never have I heard such insight beforeandthank you for saving us from your companion. Truly you are a great man.¡±


    Chester scowled. ¡°You know there is such a thing as too much flattery, especially from an advisory, even one as loathsome as yourself. Yoursugar-coatedwords have turned sour from the amount of the itsglossypowder.¡± His scowl turned rounder, revealing several deep wrinkles and cracks in theEspavailier¡¯sface. ¡°Guards, seize the pair!¡±


    Apple¡¯s eyes bulged and his spine stiffened. Thetwo-armedmen on either side of the magician were approaching with long strides. He had been too submissive in his flattery, he had forgotten the sarcasm that births from large numerous compliments. He saw at his side Mula hunched low with bowed legs, her knife waved threateningly at their opponents.


    He was so close but still needed more time. Running would distract him too much. Cowering would probably entice thesadisticpyromaniac. Perhapshe should try a different method to persuasion. A more aggressive one.Apple stood tall.


    ¡°Halt!¡± He bellowed at the guards.To his surprise the men did as he asked. ¡°Do you know who you are dealing with?¡±He asked with a voice deeper than his usual tone.¡°I am the great and mighty magician of thenorth! Lord of theSickle Mountains ¨Cpeaks ofmy own creation, I might add.¡± Applelied, not giving them time to answer his question.


    ¡°Donotlisten to him men!¡± Chester cried. ¡°Heisjust some lowly forest dweller. I tested his mettle yesterday. His magic in on par with athird-year apprentice, at best.¡±


    Apple smirked and covered his eyes in a shadow of condescending superiority. ¡°So, says the man that sends his troops to do his dirty deeds.¡± Apple stood on his tiptoes and looked down upon theEspavailier. ¡°Tell me, ohnoblewarden of some other bloke¡¯s house, how did your face become so decorated with cuts and bruises? Are you unused to living in a building with a staircase so high? Didm¡¯lordperhaps have a tumble?¡±


    Chester¡¯s face flushed red. Redder than any blush a young maiden could ever produce. He began to pant and mumble. Theguardsthatwerealmost upon Apple turned to look at their master, even they looked frightened at the sight of him.


    The red-magiciansquawked an indecipherable word, roared another, and then whispered the next. If it wasnotfor the magician so blatantly aiming his wand at him, Apple would have had no idea the man was casting a spell. Apple aimed back.


    It was unfortunate for Chester, forApple¡¯s magic was finally readyto enter the physical world.The amber of his staffhissed, causing the guards to flinch.


    An eruption of white smoke gushed from the orange gem and engulfed the two men. They became invisible in the dense white but their voices were as clear as day. Apple cringed at the sound of their screams as they became cooked by his creation. He had no desire to kill somerich-man''spawns but had little choice. Death by steam was both a terrible and unusual way to go.


    ¡°Run!¡± He ordered Mula as he grabbed her wrist and ranfrom the battle.


    Apple once again darted through the gaps in buildings, still intent on reaching Pier¡¯s shore. Once he wascertain that Mula was aware of the situation, he let go of her so she could follow easier.


    For a short while his morningsprintwas pretty uneventful, then the air became hotter. About every ten seconds he would feel a sudden gush of heat, sometimes even see balls of blazing orangewhizzpast him.


    He took a glance behind him and saw theEspavailier: Chester charging after him. He screamed his spells in between his laboured breaths. His shaky wand would spit globs of fire with an accuracy of a blind drunkard. It would seem the combination of using magic while running and lackingoneof hiseyesmade the magician a terrible shot, not that Apple was complaining.


    Although,evenApple was notfoolish enough to rely on only these two factors to stop him from being incinerated. He rested his staff on his shoulder with its heart aimed behind him. ¡°Potiagingwyminumghar,fli!¡± He chanted through his own hard breaths. A strong gustof wind was birthedfrom his staff andspiralledtowards his hunter.It was a weak spell; only enough power to ruffle a man''s clothes or sting his eyes. Apple hoped itwould be just enough tocause thewindedmagician to trip over, or at least slow himdowna tad.In the same manner asChester who would create a new fireball immediately after the previous one, Apple too usheredin anothermild gale after the lastone.


    ¡°Fuck offyou cretin!¡± Chester screeched at Apple, as he shielded his eyes from the sorcerer¡¯s seventh wind attack. Apple was pleased to know that his magic was having an effect on theEspavailier.


    Apple could see the protruding wooden docks now, causing him to leap for joy. His happiness was sort lived, however, when he realised he could not just lead his foe to the docks. Apple doubted Chester would kindly wait for him while he engaged in pleasantries with Captain Phil and then climb abroad his ship. There was also the matter of what to do with his new companion. Hestillcould notthink of anything, especially whileballsof fire keptthreatening to consume hum. He needed some breathing room, something he wouldnotget until Chester was dealt with.


    Instead of the docks, Apple darted towards the beach beside it.He ran and ranuntil he was so close to the sea, the tide swept at his ankles.He turned around and waited for the magician to catch up.


    ¡°Run away, Mula.¡± He ordered the girl to his left.


    ¡°No.¡± She protested. ¡°Mula stay with you. Help you fight magic man.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot!We only just met, there¡¯s no need for you to risk your life. I think we can both agree he¡¯s more interested in me. Also, you¡¯re not really much help to me right now.¡± Apple bluntly stated.


    ¡°Mula is too!You would have died if not for Mula yesterday.¡± She huffed.


    Apple smiledat that comment,¡°oh, I know, trust me. I¡¯m not telling you to run to the other side of the country. You¡¯re no use in a direct fight, but if you flee, sneak around and shank the red-faced bastard while I¡¯m distracting him...I think everything will be fine¨C probably.¡±


    Mula was silent, a deep look of concentrationappeared on her face. ¡°Okay.¡± She nodded andfled along the coast.Just in timetoo, for the man of the hour had arrived.


    ¡°It would seem that your pet was abandoned you. A pity. Though Iam sure finding her shall not be too difficult.¡± Chester said, while he tried to act as if he was notcompletely exhaustedor consumed by rage.


    ¡°I don¡¯t aboutthat,Chester-my-boy, she¡¯s a small one. All sorts of places she could hide.¡±


    The magician¡¯sreaminingeye twitched at Apple¡¯s informality. ¡°Well it would seem there is nowhere who you to hide, sorcerer. Unless you know a spell that can turn you into a fish.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Hesighed ¡°Sadly I fell asleep in that class. Just thought it would be nice to cool my feet while we try to kill each other.¡±


    ¡°So, youarea water user., is that it?All this time I thought you were a wind whisperer, albeit not a very good one.¡±


    Apple kept a straight face. He had hoped that theEspavailierwould nothave figured that out. ¡°So, you caught me, aye. It¡¯s so time-consuming conjuring water. Much easier to find a natural...¡± Before he could finish his sentence, a globe of emberscatapultedtowards him. Luckily its trajectory was crocked, allowing Apple to dodge to side withoutmuch difficulty.


    ¡°Enough talk,sorcerer! Fight me!¡± He yelled.


    ¡°Rude git.¡± Apple muttered as he splashedaround in the shallow ocean.


    He did as he was told and began to transmute thedwimmerhe had beenstoring within his staff.


    Apple aided his spell by slapping the water in front of him withthe bottom of hisstaff. The water sprang from itsidlestateand formed the crude shape of a wall. The wall was immediately struck by a torrent of blaze. The wallmanaged to fend offthe attack well, yet the heat caused a portion of his shield to turn to air in theaftermath. Fortunately, Apple had plenty more water.


    He had been on nothing but defensive in their confrontations and Apple was sickofit. It was timefor him toattack.


    He dipped the bottom of his staff in the wateronce more:¡°Brinregwyminumgar,flienerondfesta.¡±He breathed. Thespellcosthima lot lessdwimmerwithout the need to create the elementfrom nothing.


    A pillar of water grew from the shallow poolin front of Appleandcharged towardsChester like a battering ram. The water never touched him, however, as theEspavailier¡¯sown stream of fire crashed into it. The sight of his opponent disappeared through the cloud of steam theyboth created.


    As Apple began forming more magic, something struck him in the shoulder, causing him to fall into the sea. His noseand mouthfilled with water, making him gag, causinghimto choke upon the cold liquidwith even moreintensity.


    Hehurriedlysprang to his feet andspatthe water out of both orifices. His shoulder felt the ache of blunt trauma but it seemed nothing was damaged internally.


    Still unable to see Chester, Apple fired several wild water blasts at the mist, hoping that one would find its target. In retaliation, a multitude of objects going too fast to appraisedartedfromthe mist. It was only when Apple heard the nostalgic sound of something small hittingthewater did Apple realise what they were. His foe was flinging beach pebbles at him with a speed no human arm could muster. It never occurred to Apple that theEspavailierwould also use the terrain as a weapon.


    Apple remained still. His foe could notsee him but could most certainly hear the splashes of movement. Apple had an idea. A spell that would drain most of hisdwimmer. A spell that was only possible due to the large volume of water around him.¡°Brinregwyminumghar. . .fli!Hacanteondretre.Hacanteondretre.Hacanteondretre! Fli! Enerondfesta. Enerondfesta. ENER OND FESTA!¡±


    The water swished to andfro. The magnitude of its aggression increasingwith every word Apple uttered. Until, with a climatic shout of the final word, the tide erupted.


    A tidal wave as tall asa grand oakarose from the ocean and stormed Pier¡¯s beach.A wave so wide it would have been impossible to dodge.


    Unable to avoid in his own attack completely, Apple rode the wave and landed on the beach with it. With a controlled roll as soon as he met sand, allowinghim to come upright almost immediately.


    His advisory laid upon the wet sand in a daze. Apple sprinted towards him with the intent to finish his bludgeoning from yesterday.


    Just as he was about to make contact with the prone Chester, theEspavailierunleashed a chaotic plume of fire. The spell was weak and Apple managed to shield himself with his leather coat arms,yetthe flames still managed to warm the tanned hide to a point thatitcausedApple cry out in anguish.


    Before Apple could regain his composer, Chester fired anotherpebble at him, he feltthebone in his arm creak in protestatthe action. Another barrage of pebbles forced Apple to maintain his cowered stance, less the smooth rock should strike his skull. It was fortunate that thepanickedspeed of thevolley slung made them slow enough to ricochet offhisleather guarded bone.


    It was a stalemate. Chester¡¯s hurried barrage was too weak to kill Appleandif he was to invoke a more powerful spell, the time it would take would allow Apple to regain himself.


    So, for now Apple was forced to kneel upon theground with him vision hidden behind his own arms, hoping his attacker would grow tired ofhis assault. He tried several times to cast magic, but every time he felt thesting of rock, his concentration was broken.Apple only had one trick left in arsenal, an incredibly risky one at that.


    ¡°Deathto the Circle!¡± He roared hoping theEspavailierwould hear him.


    ¡°What did you just say?¡±Chester responded, as he continued to pelt the sorcerer with rocks.


    ¡°You heard me, Chester! Your Circle is a false god and smells ofcat piss!¡± He yelled even loud than his previous comment.


    Chester stammered. Apple could feel the sudden growth of hatred inhis attacks. ¡°You, you dare? Heathen!¡± He spat.


    ¡°Oh,I dare. To me your precious Circle is more akin toa square. A stinky, stinky square.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll fuckin¡¯ kill you!¡±


    The moment Apple had been hoping for had arrived. He no longer felt the kiss of cold stoneand instead heard the quiet buzzing of heat. It seemed his opponent could no longer abide his existence and wished to extinguish itimmediately.


    Apple charged at Chester.He held the staff at its end and jabbed theEspavailierin the chest with its heart. TheEspavailiercoughed and held his chest with his free hand. While his enemy was stunned, Apple switched to atwo-handedgrip and whacked the man in his wand holding hand.


    Chester yelped butto Apple¡¯s dismaydid not release the wand from his grasp.


    Through all these movements Apple had be chanting. He retreated with a jump and pointed his catalyst at theEspavailier. An icicle almost the length of his staff grew from its amber and pieced the man¡¯s gut, almost half of it breachingthroughthe other side of the magician.


    Apple still did notrelent, swiftly he jerked the staff to side, snapping the ice offits heart. He swung the long stick intohisfoe¡¯skneecap,creatingan audible snapping sound. Chester fell to the ground barely making a sound during the descent.


    Apple was upon him in an instant. Herippedthe wand fromenemy¡¯sclaw-like handsand tossed it aside.


    ¡°Not bad for a lowly forest dweller, don¡¯tyathink?¡± Applepantedas he stood over his foe.


    Chestermerelygroaned in response,¡°what¡¯s wrongEspavailier?Bloodin your throat?¡± Apple sneered.


    The man once again merely grunted in response. Apple concluded their conversation wasfinallyover. He looked down and saw the perfectly stitched white circle, shining proudly in the rainbow sea;Apple lost his condescending smirk.


    ¡°Can you see me, Lysander?¡± Appleaskedthe circlestitching on Chester¡¯s robe.. ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered that...You¡¯ve managed to infect the minds of hundreds of thousands. They worship you as a shape. I have no idea why you chose to known as a circleto be honest. You¡¯rea smart onethoughisn¡¯tya?I wonder, am I speaking to you right now? Or just a crippled man¡¯s clothing.You know, every time I talk to someone, I¡¯m always wondering if you¡¯re watching, I¡¯m still not sure to be honest. But surely you must be able to borrowyourmagician¡¯s eyes, you¡¯re one yourself after all.Or should I be calling youanEspavailernow?Does the circle represent an eye, Lysander? Is that what it means? That you¡¯re always watching? Hey Lysander, wouldthis make youblink?¡± Apple raised his staff above his head and slammed into the centre of the circular embroidery.


    Chester¡¯s body lucked upwards, blood, bile,andphlegmflew from his mouth.


    ¡°Did you feel that, Lysander? Did you at least feel an itch on yourillustriouspupils?¡± Apple beganto pant with a greater intensity. The bottle that held ayears''worthof rage had become loose.


    ¡°You bastard. You evil, sadist fuck! Do you have any idea what it¡¯s like to spend every waking moment of your life terrified of every single living creature? Unable to ever go home?Unable to relate to anyone because their minds have been altered.?They don¡¯t remember things properly...Just a single wrong word can turn a town of harmless peasants into rabid beasts.¡± Apple began to grind his teeth. His body shook and his eyes blinked with a chaoticrhythm.


    He once more raised his staff and brought it down upon the circle. Again; and again; and again...


    TheEspavailier¡¯sbody continued to spasm as it was struck,yetno soundor protest came from his lips.


    Apple soon grew too tired to raise his catalyst. He was now forced to use it to help him stand. He stared at the round stitching once more. ¡°Ipray thatyou felt that.¡±


    With that final wishuttered, Apple turned and walked away. His goal of boarding the Captain Phil¡¯s ship forgotten. The girl called Mula, forgotten. Right now, he just needed to be alone. So, along the barren coast he walked.Never did he notice a petite figure in the distance collect afinelycut stick with a precious ruby stuck to its tip from the sand.

 Interlude: Hello Everyone

    Hello readers! I want to thank you all for reading my story, I''m having lots of fun writing it.


    I''ve wrote this interlude because I want to encourage you all to review/comment on my story. The main reason I am writing this fiction (and others) is to improve my writing ability.


    I wish to be an author one day and while I am slowly writing my ''proper'' story, right now I am mainly focusing on practice stories - though I''m not a fan of calling them that.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Anyway, please leave your opinion. It doesn''t have to be positive, the whole point is for me to improve. I do feel a tad guilty for not responding to your comments, I keep thinking it might be awkward to thank everyone who praise my work, and I also feel tempted to reveal spoilers when someone makes a comment/question about the story.


    I also want to apologise for taking so long to post new chapters. Hopefully I''ll create a schedule.


    I think that''s it, thought I had more to say...


    Cheers.

 Chapter 9: The Hidden Hamlet

    ¡°How long have you been following me?¡±


    ¡°Since you killed colourful fire man.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense...Stupid question now that I think about it.¡± Apple sighed and kicked the dirt from under his boots.


    It had been six days since the incident at Pier. Six days of none stop walking across roads of cobblestone, sand,and now dirt. Apple wasn¡¯t quite sure how he had managed to escape that accused city, it had all been one melancholy blur. He mostly remembered walking. Walking and walking along the city¡¯s shore. Relatively peaceful he remembered the journey being, except for those four guards. Each showing up alone at different times,each onetryingto apprehend him in the name of justice. All they gotfor their sense of dutywas the gift to look down upon their families in the ethereal plane of their deity. Of course, only if said deity was willing to forgive them for their newfound fondness of an edge-less shape.


    After about a day out of the city and his moodiness had subsided, Apple instead felt rage. Rage at himself, in his juvenile angst, he had forgotten to retrieve the magician¡¯s wand. He had no intention of using it as a replacement for his large hand-crafted babybut thinking about all the materials he could have stripped from it made Apple weep.


    ¡°Hey! Are you ignoringMula?¡± The tanned child huffed.


    Apple broke free from his thoughts. Once again, he lost himself in the riches he could have so easily acquired. ¡°Sorry Mula. Just thinking about some things.¡± He explained to the girl; still wearing his stained shirt. ¡°How did you find me anyway?¡±


    ¡°Neverlost you. Mula waited for goodtime to stab fire man, but you killed himbefore I could.¡± It appearedto Apple that she was upset about not slaying the man herself. ¡°You looked likeyouin bad mood, so Mula waited until you not.Mula super sneaky, you never see Mula. Almost said hitwo days again, but you suddenly kept yellingabout a wand-thingy. So Mula waited until you better again.¡±


    Apple felt awful. A lump formed in his throat. He had abandoned the girl so easily, and now here she was in front him. Even worse she was always with him, in the shadows,waitingfor him to stop histantrum; hisunpleasant moodhadforced her to hide from him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mula. Sorry for leaving you.¡± He replied softly to her.


    She grinned. ¡°It ¡®Kay.It happens.¡±


    ¡°That, that doesn¡¯t make me feel any better.¡±He frowned.


    ¡°Stop being so moody.¡± Sheordered, with a jab of her finger.


    Apple could nothelp but let out a small laugh at her behaviour. ¡°Alright, Mula. Are you sure you want to travel with me though? It¡¯ll be very dangerous and we only just met.¡±


    She simply shrugged. ¡°Mula have no idea where Mula is. You helped Mula andcan-domagic. You good choice, for now.¡±


    Apple could notargue with that logic,¡°fair enough. Welcome to the Apple party. Oh, the name¡¯s Apple, by the way.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s astupid name.¡± She so flatly informedhim.


    ¡°I agree, very stupid.¡± Apple grinned. Hegrinned wider than he had done in a long time. ¡°But it¡¯smy name.¡±


    ¡°Kay. So, where yougoin¡¯, Apple?¡±She asked.


    ¡°Where arewegoing.¡± He corrected her. ¡°I believe our first order of business is toget some supplies. You, little lady, are in some desperate needof some clothes.¡±


    Shenodded. ¡°Mula agrees. Mula tired of being cold.¡±


    ¡°Then let us be off. We¡¯re sure to reach some kind of settlement if we keepfollowing this pathway ¨C probably.¡± He added.


    So, with nothing left to say for now, the twocontinuedto stride boldly down thedirtroadside by side. Hoping thata gathering of humans would be aneventuality.


    ***********


    ¡°Well, that was quick.¡± Apple exclaimed, as he looked upon the sporadic weave ofquaint littlebuildings.


    A sparse, yet dense formation of habitatsalmost hidden is dense trees of birch and oak. The structures camouflaged even further as they too were made of the wood that surrounded them.Wasit not for the convenient dirt path, Apple doubted he would have found theplace?


    ¡°Seems like a particularlymundanesettlement. Hope the locals aren¡¯t a bunch of savages.¡± Apple mused to himself.


    ¡°Stop using words Mula doesn¡¯t know.¡± She ordered of Apple, as if he was mocking herfor lack of vocabulary.


    ¡°No. You either learn the words, or pretend you know them.¡± Apple scoffed in response. Not bothering tocontinue the conversation, hepressed forward towards the unknown hamlet.


    It did nottake long for him to encounter one of its inhabitants. A young woman, about the same age as Apple, was in the midst of pulling a bucket from a well.


    Apple approached quietly, cleared his throat and spoke: ¡°Hail, woman.¡±


    The woman jumped in response and turned her head towards the pair. As soon as eyes caught the sight of the two, they bulged and she ran towards the hamlet. Her bucket forgotten on the grass, itsliquidcontents feeding it.


    ¡°Hey wait!¡± He cried with an outreached arm.Unfortunately forhim, his words fell on frightened ears. ¡°Well, thatdidn¡¯t go very well.¡±


    After some quick pondering, Apple concluded that perhaps being a complete strange man, at night, covered in dirt, exposing his bare chest through the gap of giant leather coat, probably was a bit unnerving for such acommonyoung lady. Also having a half-naked child companion withbright yellow eyes andcanines so large they protrude past her lips, most likely didnothelp either.


    ¡°Not a great start Mula, I¡¯ll admit. We¡¯ll have to go in nice and slow. Hide that knife ofyoursand try to look cute.¡± Apple told her, as he began to head into the settlement once more.


    ¡°Mula already cute.¡± She informed him as she followed.


    Apple turned and glanced at her while he walked. High protruding cheekbones that lookedsharpenough toscratch glass. Chestnut coloured hair so knotted, it looked like an oversized bird¡¯s nest. Piecing yellow eyes that reminded Apple of a wolf. Teeth that reminded him of a cat. Long arms contrastedherstout legs. Skin the colour of wet sand,a shade just not enoughtoquite hide her unusually hairy forearms. Apple didnotknow much about the varieties of humans but it looked as if Mulapossessed a lot of them in her blood. Apple was also willing to bet she possessed some traces of not-so-human heritage as well.


    ¡°Sure, why not.¡± He eventually respondedwith a small shrug.


    It did nottake long for the pair to reach what could be considered the village centre. There waiting for them were eight gruff-looking men, all wielding some of the more menacing farming toolsused to toil fields.


    ¡®Definitelynot a great start.¡¯Apple thought.


    ¡°What youdoin¡¯ ¡®ere in ourlil¡¯ol¡¯ village?¡± Asked a hairy fellow at the centre of the line, in his grip was a large billhook slasher. Applepromptlydetermined him to be the leader of the group.


    ¡°My companion and I are but simple travellers.We were lost andarein desperate need of supplies. We walked a random dirt road in the hopes of finding sanctuary and here we are.¡±Apple answered honestly.


    ¡°Companion, aye?¡± He looked directly at Mula. ¡°Whatkindaman keeps a child as a companion? Especially a girl.¡± He added, his uninviting face turned even more sour.


    ¡°She¡¯s my niece.¡± Apple quickly lied. ¡°Her parents are dead and I am her only kin left. As you can see, I¡¯m not quite equipped to be taking care of a child, but I¡¯m all she has.¡± Apple laced his words with sorrow to addpower to his tall tale.


    Mula looked at him with wide eyes, but she did notsay anything.


    ¡°Shedon¡¯tlookanythin¡¯ likeya¨C she don¡¯t.¡± Another man protested.


    ¡°True. Her motherand Ilooked a fair bit differentto begin with, her foreign fatherwidened the gap.¡±


    The man grunted in response,although heappeared more appeased than he did a moment ago.


    ¡°Why were youscarin¡¯ me daughter,Gale?¡± The leader once again chimed in.


    ¡°I¡¯m assuming Gale is the girl who was at the well. I¡¯m sorry about that. AllIdid was saygreet here, althoughImust admit ourcurrentappearance must be a tadfrightening to gaze upon all of a sudden.¡± He replied, once again telling the truth.


    The leader nodded,¡°aye you two look and smell like cow shit,yado.¡±


    Apple laughed to help lighten the mood. ¡°We sure do. Been on theroad for a while now. Bandits stoleour clothes, weapons, and coin. All I wish is for me and my niece tobathe, rest and hopefully do some trading here.¡±


    ¡°What kind of trading?¡± A short hostile-lookingmanasked.


    ¡°Well, like I said, bandits took most of our belongings, but I¡¯m more than willing totrade in deeds. Got anything you need help with?¡±


    The group of men all began to look at each other, communicatingentirely withtheir eyes and facial expressions.


    ¡°Alright.¡± The leader finally said. ¡°It¡¯s late now. You two can sleep in my barn for night. We¡¯ll discuss trading in the morning.¡± He told them. Apple could see that some faces in the group did notapprove of their leader¡¯s proposal, Apple took a mental picture ofeach oftheir faces.


    The group eventually dispersed and their leader indicated for him and Mula to follow. All except one of the men hadleft, theremaining individualwasaburly fairly young fellow that looked a lot like their leader.¡°Must be his son.¡±


    The gang shortly arrived ata study looking wooden house, with a smallbarn standingbeside it.


    ¡°Stay here. Need to let the misses know about you two.¡± He ordered, just before he went inside his house. The son stayed with them, most likely tokeep an eye on the pair.Apple tried to make pleasantries but the manrefused toreturn the favour.


    After abouttwenty of silence with brief periods of small talk with Mula, the house owner appeared.In his thick meaty arms was a large wash bucket filled to the brim.¡°Follow me to the barn.¡±His gruff voice said.


    Apple gave Mula a reassuring nod and followedbehind.


    ¡°Ere.¡± He dropped the bucket on the barn floorwith a wet thud. ¡°Giveyaself a wash. I¡¯ll be back soon with someol¡¯ clothes forya. Nothavin¡¯ you twofilthin¡¯ up me home.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Thank you so much...¡± Apple stopped.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°NamesGer.¡±


    ¡°Ger. Thanks. The name¡¯s Apple.¡± Apple replied.


    Ger¡¯s chappedlips finally allowed themselves a smallsmirk. ¡°Sure,it is, lad.¡±


    Ger left the barn before Apple could convince the man it was indeed hisname.¡°Mulayou go first.¡± He told her.


    ¡°Kay.¡±She immediately took off her shirt and dove into the cold water.


    Apple turned the other way. While she was only a child, he wished to respect her privacy. Only turning back every so often to make sure she was cleaningherselfproperly. He was tempted to use his magic to warm the water, but feared someone was watching them.


    After about twenty minutes of grooming, Apple and Mula finished and draped themselves in the clothing Ger left them. Apple wore wool trousers and a soft grey wool tunic, both slightly too big for hisleanframe. Mula was covered by a pale one-piece dress that was a little too long for her legs.


    The two walked to their saviour¡¯s house and knocked on the heavy door. After several moments Ger opened it and greeted them. ¡°That¡¯s better. Come in.¡±Gernodded.


    Apple said a quick thank you and venturedinside after the man.


    It was awell-maintained interior. Lacking in any kind ofd¨¦cor but clean and sturdy looking. The slightest whiff of cooking and recreational smoke filled the air.


    Ger took them to a room with asmallwooden table placed in the centre. On top of itsdustyphysiquewas a large pot of a nutty pottage and besides the pottage was a row or tough-looking rye bread.


    ¡°This is my wife, Kat.¡± Ger gestured towards a stern looking woman, about half way through her life, sitting at the table.


    ¡°Lovely to meet you.¡± Apple smiled, though the smileclearlyfailed to warm her face.¡°And this is my son, Gill. You two have already briefly met.¡± He them motioned to the angry looking fellow at the end of the table.


    ¡°Nice tomeet you, Gill.¡± Again, Apple¡¯sgreeting failed toetch away thedisapproval of his existence.


    ¡°My daughter won¡¯t be joiningus her supper tonight.Even without youscarin¡¯ ¡®er, I wouldn¡¯t want astrange man around ¡®er, no sir.¡±


    ¡°I understand. I¡¯m a guest under your roof and won¡¯tdo anything to cause the slightest bit of trouble.¡± Apple replied truthfully.


    Ger grunted. ¡°Good man. Now let¡¯s eat.¡±


    Apple sat down and Mula plopped down on the chair next to him. The exchange of nutrition began and Apple partook readily. Apple dipped his stale bread into his watery pottage with a grace to rival the mostancientof surfs, ¡°if only my family could see me now.¡±He smirked to himself.


    ¡°So,what deed do you need us for?¡± Apple asked, right after swallowing a torn lumpof seed bread.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t I say itcould wait until tomorrow?¡± Ger replied, with food still in his mouth.


    Apple nodded, his mouth still full of food.Hegently ripped out thestarchyinnards of his bread and playfully rolled it into a ball with his hand. ¡°You did.¡± He admitted. ¡°But I see no reason to not say it now. Unless of coursethe task itself issealed with a privacy I didn¡¯t foresee.¡±


    ¡°You talk like a right queer.¡± Ger¡¯s son chimed in on the conversation.Applepretended he did not hear that


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not all hush-hush¨C it isn¡¯t. Suppose there¡¯s no reason insayin¡¯ it now.¡± Admitted Ger, seemingly ignoring his son¡¯scontribution to their talk.He took a breath. ¡°You ever heard of goblins?¡±


    Apple¡¯s lefteyebrows cocked slightly. ¡°Goblins, aye. I¡¯ve had my fair share of encounters with rambunctious little curs. Why,you got an infestation?¡±


    Ger nodded,¡°¡¯bout three moons ago a mate of mine came across one the green bastards on a hunt. Then people startedseein¡¯them in bushes,watchin¡¯us. Little time goes by ¡®n¡¯ we startnoticin¡¯ a fewpiglets¡®n¡¯ a lotta the localsquirrels¡®n¡¯hedgehogshadgonemissin¡¯. Then alambor two. Now, now a man must hide his women from their tiny hands.¡± His words became slower and more pronounced as his story went on.


    Apple remained silentfor a moment, allowing the tension in the room to dilute a little.¡°I see.Forgive me if this is a rude question, but have you made any attempt toberid them yourselves?¡±


    ¡°Of course,we ¡®aveyapillark. We¡¯ve beengoi-¡°


    ¡°Hush Gill.¡± Ger interrupted. ¡°Sorry about my lad, he and a bunch of us ¡®avebinhuntin¡¯ thelil¡¯ shits since we lost a sheep. They¡¯re as strong as a child and half as smart, but there¡¯s so many of thebleedin¡¯ bastards.Yakill one, three more appearand anyone ¡®ere that has any fighting experience is either too old, like me self, or dead. Oh, my boy is strong alright, stronger than his da but he was never forced to fight in wars like us old ¡®uns, our Lord is old and no longer cares about such affairs. We¡¯ve also got no armour or weapons round ¡®ere, apart from some axes meant to chop wood and a couple bows.¡±


    Apple absorbed the information, wondering what to do with it. He was already in too deep to tell the man that he had never evenactuallyseen a goblin before.He thought he might have heard a few in a forest several months back but was too scared toinvestigate.All of his experience with the stunted humanoids came from his times back home., every couple of years men would report to his fatheraboutgoblins attacking one of his mines. He had heard descriptions of their appearances andheard tales oftheirdeeds andthat was it. Although, from what he didknow, Apple believed he should be able to handlethis new foe.


    ¡°Say no more, my good man. Just tell me where they live and I¡¯ll snuff them out. I may not look like much, but I¡¯ve had my fairshare of scuffles with their kind, and much worse.¡± Apple ever so confidently told them.


    ¡°Terrific.¡± Ger smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll haveNick, the village hunter, takeyatheretomorrow.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me. I¡¯ll repay your kindness two-fold. Though, I must ask that my niece have something to cover her feet with and perhaps a cloak of some kindtowardawaythe chill.¡±


    Kat, who had remainedcompletely, spoke with bulging eyes. ¡°Surely you¡¯re not taking your niece with you?¡± She stammered.


    ¡°Of course. She¡¯s my little apprentice and this will be valuable experience for her.¡± Apple calmlyinformedher.


    ¡°But she¡¯s only a child, and a girl! Do you have any idea what goblins do to women?¡± She pressed.


    ¡°I do.¡± He did not. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯ll be in my shadow the entire time. I don¡¯t plan on making her fight as an equal. More like an observer.¡± He explained.


    ¡°But, but...¡±


    ¡°Leave it, Kat. It¡¯s the man¡¯s decision. Let¡¯s not tell him how to do our job for us.¡±Ger interjected.


    ¡°What about the girl?¡± She complained, unrelenting to her husband¡¯s statement. She turned andlooked warmly at Mula. ¡°Poppet. Are you okay with going with your uncle to fight goblins?Be honest withme, please Poppet.¡±


    Mula looked down. Her shoulders shimmied side to side in silence. Unable to bear the brunt of the table¡¯s gaze. After a few breathsshe eventuallyspoke:¡°Mulais fine with goblin killing. Mula help...Uncle.¡± She said with aslightcrack in her pitch.


    ¡°Yasee Kat. The girl¡¯s fine with it.¡± Gerreassured her.


    The tension returned to the table. Apple waggled his eyes around the room, examining the faces within. Kat was clearly unsatisfied with the verdict of Mula¡¯s participation. Ger looked stern, unwavering as a rock. His son, wielded the samehostileexpression he had when Apple first met him.


    ¡°Well.¡± Apple said. ¡°Thank you so much for supper. I believeit''stime for me and Mula to hit the hay. Got a long day ahead of us.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good. My daughter should ¡®aveput some blankets out in the barn while we ate. I think we¡¯llget some shut eye as well.¡± Ger replied.


    With another quick farewell, Apple and his little companion headed outside to their beds. He pretended to not hear the panicked scuttling of Ger¡¯s daughter just before they left the dining room. Apple had sensed her presence behind the wall the past half an houror so.


    At the barn they found the blankets Ger had promised them. With a discussionusing nothing buttheireyes, the two searched for the softest pile of hay and hunkered down.


    ¡°Rest well, Mula.Got avery big day ahead of us.¡± Apple whispered to the girl beside him.


    ¡°Kay. Mula sleepy anyway. Mula excited for fightinggobbly-thingies tomorrow. She grinned, or at least Applebelievedshe did.


    ¡°Me too, Mula. Me too.¡± He lied. ¡°Goodnight.¡±


    ¡°Night-night.¡±


    And with that, the gently sound of snoring hiccupped from the girl. Shortly after, the heavy breaths ofatired man joined her in a duet.


    **********


    The big day had arrived. Apple and Mula had awoke at dusk and completed their morning stretchesthat Apple insisted they do.


    Apple sat upon a large upside-down bucket they had used to washyesterday evening,whilst hewas going through his trusty traveling sack. Sat on the grass beside him was his new party member, Mula, looking at Apple¡¯sbagof goodieswith a mix of boredom and mild envy. In the sack, Apple found his jute rope, someoldjerky, bandages, a torch, a rock that he couldnotremember why hecarried it around, four strips ofdeerleather, and several pieces of bound parchment.


    He stared at his contents over and over again, for there was little to do right now. Gill had left earlier to fetch the village hunter, so Apple was forced to wait here for him. Not that he minded, however. He was still waiting for Ger to givethemsome supplies and hopefully some breakfast.


    As if she had read his mind, a not-so familiar girl appeared. ¡°H-hungry?¡± Apple heard a small squeak from behind him asked. He knew who it was immediately but thought itwould be wiser to act as if she was a complete stranger.


    ¡°I¡¯m famished.¡± Apple repliedcheerfully, after he turned his head deliberately slow to face the voice. Stood nervously before him was the reason for him being almost gutted by a mob ofdisgruntledpeasants. A short, moderately plumb woman, with medium brown hair anda large collection offreckles.


    ¡°B-b-breakfast.¡± She statedwith her arms outreached, holding a bowl in each hand.


    ¡°Thank you, luv.¡±Apple replied, adding a common colloquialism in the hopes it made him seemfriendlier. Her cheeks flushed red in response and flushed brighter when Apple took the bowls from her hands.


    A block of cheeseandmore ryebread, simple but effective.Alongside the food were two wooden cups full of a watery ale.Apple gaveMulaher share of cheese and breadand dug in, withouta singleutensilto be found.Appleinhaled his cheeseimmediately andfeastedupon the soft innards of hisbreak,breaking so many etiquette rules he haddrilled into his as a youth.


    While he and Mula ate, the girl left and swiftly returned. In her hands was now a small cloak and wrapped leather shoes, both brandishing theuglyshade of brown.


    ¡°Ah, these must be theattire asked for. Thank you very much, luv.¡± Apple beamed.


    ¡°It¡¯snothing.¡± She gulped. ¡°Ma asked me to get these for your niece.¡±Shestared at Mula,trembling somewhat when shenoticedherunusuallylarge fangs.


    Apple noticed that Mula was aware of the woman¡¯s fear of herand her seemingto beenjoying it. She took the items the trembling woman with a smile, a largeexaggeratedsmile that showed an unnecessary number of teeth. Apple wondered whetherhe shouldscaldMula for teasing such a timid creature.


    ¡°Your ma, aye.¡± Apple said. ¡°That explains why you¡¯re the one giving us theseitems. Your father made it clear that he didn¡¯twant us near each other.¡±


    ¡°Neither does my ma. She says you¡¯re a wild man, risking the life of a girl for nogoodreason.¡± Apple was surprised by her honesty.


    He released a boyish smirk. ¡°Can¡¯t say she¡¯s wrong. I¡¯m in need of a shave and carry around a giant stick as some kind of fashion accessory. You also rantoo, once you saw my barbaric mug.¡±


    Once again, her face turned red, rivalling the ripest of tomatoes. ¡°Well...Erm, you startled me. It was dark and you¡¯re a man. Dad doesn¡¯t let me around men.¡± She stuttered.


    ¡°Hah! Don¡¯t worry, I understand. Likeyour ma said, I am a wild looking fellow.¡± He laughed.


    ¡°No, no. That¡¯s not what I wassayin¡¯. You look...You look good.¡± She gulped.


    Apple could feel his eyebrow rise that that remark.Good shesaidhelooked. ¡°Did he?¡±He wondered. He had lost a lot of weight and acquired a few scars on his travels. He had heardin the pastthat women like scars. While he was average length for a noble, he was a couple inches taller than the average peasant,even an inch or two largethan father and brother,althoughcertainty not as muscularas the pair. Perhaps it was just due to her lack of male contact. It didnothelp her standardswhenthe majority of this hamlet¡¯s population seemed to be grumpy old men. A dark wave of confidence washed over him.


    ¡°Good you say?¡± A smug grin asked.


    A response of unintelligiblewords came from a red-faced source.


    Before Apple could continue his teasing, the man of the hour had arrived.


    Gill had returned and beside him was a lankyman with a bow strapped around his back.


    ¡°Hail masters.¡± Apple cried in greeting.


    The hunter replied with a nodandGillseemedignored the wild man¡¯s existence.


    His moody face slumped angrilywhen he saw his sister behind the detestable bucket-sitter. ¡°Gale! What are you doing outside with the stranger?¡± He yelled.


    ¡°I wasgivin¡¯them food and clothes for their quest, like ma asked me.¡± She replied meekly.


    ¡°Well you¡¯ve given them the stuff so getgoing. Da doesn¡¯t even like you nearmen he¡¯s known since they were suckling on their ma¡¯s teat.How¡¯dyathink he¡¯d react if he found out you¡¯ve bintalkin¡¯ to aqueer savage?¡±


    Apple wondered that if he did nothave his catalystcausallyresting on his shoulder right now would he fear this brute?He wasmildlyannoyedright now but not nearly enough to risk the consequences of a confrontation with thelout. Though he supposed he should at least try to resolve the situation.


    ¡°Please calm down. It was I who engaged your sister inconversation. She was just too polite toignore me. Please don¡¯t blame her.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, savage! Don¡¯t you have some goblins to bekillin¡¯?¡± He scolded.


    ¡°A hairysurf, living in the middle of nowherewith not even his Lord¡¯s location knownis calling me a savage...The world sure is an interesting place.¡± Applemused. ¡°You¡¯re right. We best be off. Farewell Gale and son of Ger.¡± Apple bellowed, as he pounced off the bucket and walked towards his guide.


    ¡°Wait, before you go. . . Mysister! Please find my sister,Gwen.¡± She suddenly stammeredwith enclosed hands.


    ¡°Gale!¡± Gill spat. ¡°I thought we told you to give up onher. She was taken over amonth ago.¡±


    ¡°But what¡¯s the harm in asking? Da is tooproudto mention her, so I will. Please, good Sir, find my sister Gwen. She looks a lot like me expect a little older and has a large birthmark on her left shoulder.¡±


    ¡°Gale!¡±He scolded again.


    ¡°Alright, Gale. I make no promises, but I¡¯ll do my best. Farewell.¡± Apple walked away to the sounds of weeping and gratitude. He wondered if this is what it was like to be a hero, like in his childhood story booksif itwas,he was a bitdisappointed.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Galesuddenlycried, as the trio had walked almost completely away from the Ger household. ¡°How will you fight goblins without a weapon?¡±


    ¡°A weapon?¡± He brandished his staffin the air. ¡°I have aweapon right here.¡±


    ¡°That stick? You surely can¡¯tbegoin¡¯ to fight an entire nest of goblinswith that?¡± She asked incredulously.


    ¡°Worry not, luv.¡± He smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a really good stick.¡±

 Chapter 10: The House of Green Folk

    ¡°Stop!¡±


    Apple froze in place, his left leghanging in the air.


    ¡°See this?¡± Nick pointeddownwith a long chiselled fingerfrom where hewascrouched.


    Apple followed the man¡¯shand and bentdownbeside him. Almost hidden in the decayed brackenwas a lump of what appeared to be dried tar. Its once hot bubbles frozen in time asthe moisture thatgave it life had long abandoned it. Even with its clear age, therancid smell it hazed knotted the hairs in Apple¡¯s nostrils.


    ¡°Goblin shit.¡±The hunter told him. ¡°Old though. Weeks I¡¯d say.Not a great tracker, it isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes. Seenmy fair share of that stuff, yes Sir.¡± Applemumbled knowledgeably.


    The hunter gave Apple a quizzical look.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you alreadyknew where they lived?No need to be teaching me things I already know. I am an accomplished goblinslayer after all.¡± Apple stammeredas he stood up, to be away from the smelland his stare.


    ¡°I do.¡± Nickadmitted. ¡°Just thought I¡¯d letyaknow what their shit looks like. Never know if it might come in handy.Forgot that Gill said you¡¯ve already got experience with the buggers.¡± He copied Apple, now standing at his full height again.


    As someone who had hunted his fair share of game the past year, Apple could see the logic behind knowing the appearance of his prey¡¯sfaeces. He just wished he already knew what it looked like. Why had hisfather¡¯s menfailed tomention what goblinexcrementlooked like in their reports?¡°Fair enough. Lead the way, Nick. We¡¯ve been in these woods for about an hour now, without seeing a single goblin.¡±


    Nick began to walk and Apple and the shy Mula followed suite. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a rustle here and there. A few are lurking around, I¡¯m sure of it. They¡¯re thick as cow dung, but also cowards. They wouldn¡¯t attack us unless there was at least a dozen of them.¡±


    Apple looked around the forest. A mess of trees and bracken, plenty of places to hide. He had heard nothing amiss on their venture and it frustrated himimmensely. He had been thinking that he was quite the accomplished hunter as of late. It would seem he still had much to learn.


    ¡°Walk in front of me, Mula.¡± He softly ordered the girl.The news of them being stalkeddisturbed him.


    ¡°Kay,¡±she whispered from behind. As Apple marched, he saw the fluttering of her new wool cloak appear before him at his waist.


    The triocontinued the rest of their journey in almost complete silence. Stopping only when Nick heard a sudden rustle nearby.


    **********


    ¡°There it is.¡± Nick stated, as they hid behind a bushel ofmoss-coveredboulders.


    About thirty feet in front of them was a limestone wall of miles wide and hundreds of feet high. At its centre a jagged gaping maw that breathedcolddarkness.


    Around the entrance of the spoiled cream-coloured cliff was their prey. Eight small wiry humanoids with hunched spines, hookednoses, sickle-shapedears, and armoured innothing but theirbile green skin. Their skin folded together tightly - crashing like waves. Apple had seen sun baked oldcroneswith less wrinkles than these monstrosities.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan huntsman?¡± Applewhispered.


    ¡°Plan. Why youaskin¡¯ me? Aren¡¯t you supposed to be the goblin expert here?¡± Nickretorted.


    Apple paused. He was doing a poor job at maintaining his lie so far. ¡°Well, of course.¡± He hurriedly replied. ¡°Though, you¡¯re the expert of these woods. Not to mention I lost most of my goblin killing tools in that scuffle with those bandits.¡±


    ¡°I see...¡± Nick hummedthoughtfully. ¡°We¡¯ve got the element of surprise right now. Though it looks like I¡¯m the only one with a ranged weapon. How about you twoflank¡®em,whileI draw their attention?¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a fine plan.¡±Apple immediately agreed. ¡°Follow me, Mula.¡±


    Apple tiptoed away from the formation of boulders ever so carefully. He had to turn around several times to check if Mula wasstillfollowing him. He was both impressed and mildly annoyed that he was completely unable to hear her behind him. Every wince he made when he felt the creak of foliage beneath his boot was magnified by hercompletesilence.


    Once he found a large dense bush to hide behind, he waited. He and Mula were now to the left of the creatures ready to pounce.


    After waiting several minutes, it occurred to Apple that he and Nick had failed toagree on a sign ofattack. He looked towards thegreen tinted rocks but was unable to see the hunter.Without any other idea apart from waiting, he waited.


    More minutes later, Apple finally saw the blur of a flying shaft.A fire hardenedarrow landed in the chest of a goblin, causingitto collapse with a screeching protest.


    All the goblins that had been lazing around turned towards the boulders and hissed. They approached slowly at first, but a second arrow foundits way in the stomach of another goblincausingthem to charge.


    Now that the naked creatures had their completeattention onthe hidden bowman, it was Apple¡¯s turn to attack.


    He crept up towards the goblin furthest away from the pack. Making sure to calm hiswar-readybreathing while he moved. Using the training he had received back onold manTom¡¯s farm, he brought his staff above his head and slammed it downonto the goblin. The oversized stick, that was really more metal than wood, liquefied the creature¡¯s bulbous skull like a melon. The goblin didnoteven have time to cry out over the unfairness of its assassination, only a squelch and thud did its body utterwhen itcollapsedto the ground.


    Before the othersnoticed him, Apple swung his catalyst diagonally, aiming at another goblin¡¯s temple. Unused to fighting beings so small, Apple struck its earhole instead.Thegoblincartwheeled to the ground from the impressive blunt force. Unfortunately, the creature screamed while it spun through the air, causing the remaining pack to become aware of its plight.


    Apple was notworried, however., there were only four left and goblins werenotknown for their strengthor skill in battle.


    The oneclosest to him squawkedand lunged withits crudewooden spear.Apple stepped back and returned a quickjerk of his staff at the beast.The amber kissed the goblins cheek andknockeditto the ground.Another came at him butitfell to an arrow before iteven got close enough.


    The two leftsaw their fallen comrades and realised they had no hope of winningthe battle.They screeched at Apple with wagglinggreytongues and sprinted towards the cave entrance.


    With a reach no goblin could possibly match, Apple gripped the end of his staff and swung it at a fleeing goblin. The goblin ran into the sudden outstretched wood with a speed that almost contorted the innards of itsleg muscles. The staff hooked under its chin, causing it to swing like an exited pendulum,at itspeakthe goblin¡¯s toes pointedtowards the morningsun,before crashing upon the fall dead.Its throat crushed from the force.


    The final goblin had almost made it to the cave; itsbody beginning to vanish inthedarknessof thesanctuary. Before it completely made it into the cliff¡¯s throat, a creature of similar height was upon it.


    Mula charged the creature and leapt upon its back. The goblin buckled under the sudden weight, causing the two to roll to the floor. Even still, Mularefused tolet go. Her body wrapped around the pruned skin fiend, with only her right hand freein the grapple. The knife that dwelled within her small grip touched the creature¡¯s neck and rocked back and forthrapidly. She waved the bladebackwards and forwardsas if the goblin¡¯s neck were the strings of a violin and her knife the bow. Only when she felt the resistance of bone did her piece come to an end.


    The battle was over. All eight foes had perished with neither one of the opposingsidesreceiving an injury.


    Nick appeared from behind the murky foliage from whence they came. His eyes were fixed uponthebrightforked teeth that were exiting the cave. His hunter trained eyes had seen what the proud owner of those teeth had done to that fleeing goblinand he was now forced tosee her in a different light.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Apple in turn saw the man study his companion with sceptical eyes. He too had witnessed her actions and while worried about the risks of what she did, he felt pride in her swiftness. ¡°Good job, Mula. But be careful in the future, there could have been more of them lurking in the shadows.¡± He scolded, now that she was in front ofhim, showinga sweetproudsmile. A smile you would typically see on any cheerful child¡¯s face. However, her fangs and the fresh stains of crimson on her clothing, overshadowed the innocenceof the action significantly.


    Mula¡¯s mouth turned into half smile-half frown. ¡°He was getting away. If Mula not kill him, he would tell his friends about us.¡± She protested.


    Apple had to admit she had a good point, he doubted he could have caught the creature as silently and as quicklyas her. ¡°True, just be careful, okay? There¡¯ll be a lot more in the cave and they can see in the dark.¡± Apple hypothesised.


    ¡°Mula can see in dark too.¡±She boasted.


    Well this was news to Apple. Though hewasnnottoo surprised. He barely knew the girl and she was quickly demonstrating superior senses to his own.


    ¡°Well,sadly I can¡¯t. Even more reason to stay close to me. I¡¯ll need you to be my guide.¡±


    Mula pondered a moment before answering. ¡°Kay. Mulahelp, be your eyes.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Apple replied. He turned to face Nick. ¡°You goinginsidewith us?¡± He asked the hunter.


    ¡°Not yet. I¡¯m going to guard the outside and wait for their patrols to return. I might show up later,dependin¡¯on how long they take.¡± He informed Apple.


    ¡°Fair enough. See you later, hopefully.¡± Apple was notsure if he was glad the man was notjoining them. He was reluctant to use magic in front of himsoat least now he could use it to his heart¡¯s content. However, he had also lost the aid of a man who was well versed in killing their targets.


    With nothing of worth left to say, the two strode towards the gaping mawof the caveand were dutifully swallowed.


    It didnottakelong for Apple to become blind to his surroundings. Only a rare patch of murky grey would present itself as they walked deeper and deeper into their opponent¡¯s lair. Only a growing foul scent and the humid airinformed him of the world around him.


    ¡°Can you still see, Mula?¡± He asked, wishing for her to affirm her previous boast.


    ¡°Mula see. It still hard though. Everything grey, like fog.¡± She explained from beside him.


    ¡°See anything special?¡±


    ¡°No. Mula just seerocks.¡±


    While Apple was relieved to hear she did notshare the samefailure as himself, he was loathed to rely completely on her. He almost positive goblins could also see in the dark as well. If they couldnot,how where they able to navigate through their own home?There were no torches or the smell of an extinguished flame eithertodisapprovehissuspicion. Theywouldsee him coming howeverApple would not. He decided he might as well even the playing field:¡°Cambingangwyminumghar, briarondlos destine.¡±Applewhispered.


    When the spell had been successfully uttered, the heart of Apple¡¯s catalyst began to flicker. Its orange colour shone brighter after every blink, until to lit up the area brighter than any oil dipped woodcould manage.


    Nowthatthe cave around him could be seen almost as well as if daylight loomed upon it.Although therough creamy walls showed themselves as a dim orange, instead of their regular white. Apple scanned the tunnelfor dangerbut it seemed Mula was indeed correct. He sawnothingbutcompletelynormalorange-tined rocks,not even some primitive graffiti on the walls to signify their existence.


    ¡°Won¡¯tgobbiessee us, with bright light?¡± Mula asked,not quitemasking her amazement at the glowingjewel on a stick.


    ¡°They¡¯dsee us anyway. At least now, I can see them.¡± He replied.


    They continued to venture through the single tunnel they entered, sofar,no other option of hallway had presented itself.


    Itwas notuntil about ten minutes into their infiltration that they finally came into contact with the enemy.


    Apple noticed that Mula had suddenly stopped walking and turned back to look at her. His eyes were met to astern face that was completely focussed on the darkness in front of them. Before hecould say anything, he heardsounds from the direction of her gaze and too froze in place.


    What sounded like coughing, hissing,and the clicking of tongues was heard approaching them. It seemed a group of goblins were casually conversing while taking a stroll through the tunnel.


    Apple thought of an attack plan. He examinedhis surroundingsonce morebut found nothing to hide behindin the narrow cavern.It seemed his only option was to simply wait forthem. It was fortunate thatdoing absolutely nothingphysicalin combat was a magician¡¯s specialty.


    ¡°Stay behind me, Mula. I¡¯ll take care of these onesby myself.¡± He told the girl, who was already stood behind him.


    Apple continued to march forward, believing it was pointless to simply stand still and wait. He had no wish to emulate the lazy beliefs oftheEspavailierlike he had done so in the past. Hewalkedforward asslowlyand as silently as he could manage, he even dimmedthe light of his staffand hid it behind his back,althoughhemade sure to keep the fire energy dwelling inside well alive.


    Once he saw the group of goblins about fifty feet in front of him, he charged.With powerful lunges, that could only be accomplished from a lifestyle of heavy walking and enthusiastic squats, he closed the gapbetween them inless than ten strides. Even while moving at the very limit of his ability, Apple remained concentrated on the flame behind him ¨C even adding a couple words of power to it while he ran.


    With only ten feet left in between them, Apple whipped his staff out from behind his back and aimed. The startled yelps of his grotesque opponents quickly turned into screams, as the dull light of the amber now rivalled the sun with its brilliance. It vomited flamesupon the pack ofgoblins, devouring them with the finesse of a veteran glutton. The spell only lasted for a mere fewseconds,luckilythat was more thanenoughto ignite theirwrinkly hides.


    Mildly disturbed by the sight of their tiny bodies flailing around on the ground while the flames still clung to them, Apple turned to see if Mula had caught up. She had. Her small figure was located to his side, staring at the living kindling with those child-innocenteyesof hers.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go. They aren¡¯t getting back up.¡± Applestated, as he began to step over thestill breathing corpses.


    He was notfond of using fire,mostlybecauseit was theelement,he had the least affinityfor,but alsopartlybecause of the cruelty of it.Although he had to admit it washighly effectivein combat.


    His staff still hosted a lightfor him to see withbut he was much more on guard now. If any goblins were nearby, they must have heard their comrades'' cries. He only hoped they were stupid enough to charge at him in a narrow pathway, instead of waitingfor the pairin ambush.


    Again,he tiptoed forward bravely into the unknown. The charred bodies of his victims had vanished as their light source carried on its journey with them.


    ¡°Look out!¡± Mula cried from behind him.


    Unsure on what to look out for, Applerolledto the left, hoping that was the correct action. The silent whiz of a stone flew past Apple¡¯s shoulder and tumbled harmlessly to the ground. While Apple recomposedhimself, he felt several morehissesof wind dart past his body,thankfullynone made contact with him.


    ¡°Slings.¡± Apple cursed, more to himself than anyone else. All the projectiles came from in front of him, yet he could not see the owners of the rocks. They could notbe too far away, slings were notknown for their range, nor their accuracy.


    Apple churned the dormantdwimmerlurkingwithin his body into a raging typhoon ready to burst. He firedaconcussiveforce ofwind in front of himwith a wild haste. He heard the satisfying clang of stones landing on the hard ground. His gale had successful grappled the momentum from the enemies'' attack. The bright heat that lived in his staff¡¯s heart had been flung as well, hopefully stinging his foes. Unfortunately, Apple was now blind. He could easily conjure another light again, but it would be instantly snuffed out as soon asanotherattack left his catalyst.


    Apple decided to retreat. ¡°Follow me, Mula.¡± He ordered, as he ran towards where they came from, out of the goblins¡¯range. While he ran, he unslung his sack from his shoulder and awkwardly shuffled through its contents. He yanked theunlittorch from within it and held it firmly in front of him.


    Hoping hewould remember to retrieve it later, he dropped the sack to the floor, now wielding both his staff and his touch in either handeffectively. The amber kissed thetip of the torchand willed itstarmembrane to ignite. The sticky black liquid quickly became consumed by hot weaves or red and yellow. Now that he was able to see again, it was time to go on the offensive.


    ¡°Stay behind me,¡± Apple reminded Mula.


    He ran cautiouslytowards the flying stones,whisperingthe wind blast spell all the while, just in case.


    Once the goblins saw him again, they hissed and hurriedly began to spintheir slings. Apple was close enough now to not only see their horrific faces, but also hear the hissing of their ropes as they cut wind.


    Before they could gather enough speed tofire their projectiles, Apple unleashed a powerful gust that made their slings go limpand throw them to the floor.


    Apple merged the dregs of cold wind that still dwelled in his staff with the fresh batch of waterelementsthathewas pumping through his body.


    A wet icicle grew from the amber of his catalyst and plunged into the heart ofaprone goblin. Apple hurriedly yanked the crude pike from the creature and placed into another goblin¡¯s stomach. Knowing he had failed to achieve a killing blow, Apple poured more magic into his creation. He watched with unmoving eyes, as the ice expanded insideitsgut,exposing the torn anatomy of the fiend.


    Positive the goblin was done for, he yanked the large icy spearhead free from the brown paste of innards and smacked it into the head of a goblin that had managed to stand up.The creaturescreamed as the cold glass shattered upon its skulland screamed louderstillwhen Apple twirled the jagged end of thechippedicicleontoits exposed scrawny throat.


    ¡°Take one of their slings, Mula. I think it¡¯ll be useful in the future. Don¡¯t try to use it now, they¡¯reharder to wieldthan they look. You¡¯d probablyjustbosh me on the head if you did it in here.¡±He said.


    ¡°Kay.¡± Mula replied, as she appraised each of the slingsscatteredacross the ground, looking for the best one.


    As she tucked away her chosen sling, her headjerked to empty sight fromwherethepair hadcome from.


    ¡°What?¡± Apples asked the girl staring at him with an expression he had notseen since their encounter with theEspavailier.


    ¡°Trouble.¡± She stated. ¡°Gobbies. Lots.¡±


    Apple too became serious. He wanted to ask how many but realised if she knew, she wouldalreadyhave told him. It musthave least beenlot for her to makesuch anintense face. They had killed nearly two dozen so far with ease,yet Apple still feared what was to come.


    Apple¡¯s thoughts came to a halt when he felt his arm cry out in pain. A small rock ploppeddownto his feet, affirming what had struck him. Several more stoneswhizzedpast him at blurring speeds,each barelymissinghim.


    The pain in his pain was quickly overriddenby the shock that cascaded downApple¡¯s body.


    The projectiles had notcome from where Mula said the goblins were coming, they came from the direction the pair were heading in. Apple didnot doubt Mula¡¯s ears, not for one second, which could only mean one thing;they were surrounded.

 Chapter 11: The Battle of Desperation

    Goblins. Small humanoids with the strength of well-fed children. Stupid; imbecilic creatures, armed with mere sharpened twigs as replacements for spears andplumprocksinstead ofcudgels. The rare smarter ones in the pack were at least aware of the pitiful craftsmanship their kind possessed. Thesemarginally intelligentones would steal the tools of manandclaim them as their own.Fewwere even strong and lucky enough to acquireweapons of war likeswords, axes and spears; tools forged for nothing but war.


    Their small scrawny arms enhanced bytheirpoor weaponry made them pitiful foes indeed.


    Apple warded off their onslaught,globs of firedevouredfour, an invisible blade ofairseveredtwoin half, a javelin of icethrownat one more. Many of the creatures fell before theygetclose to the sorcerer. Those fortunate to be located at the back of the horde, managed to close the distance their little weapons desperately needed. Although even once that criteria were met, they then had to facealarger and stronger foewielding agiant staff,that could crack their skulls like melons.


    Sadly,for Apple,not all would fall tohis onslaught ofattacks. The stronger and the wiser of the pack were able to survive allthebarrages of elemental blowsthat threatened their existence, were rewarded with a poke to the sorcerer.Now that they had finally met their reward for their wits and luck, the next criteria had to be met. Were their stabs and jabsstrong enough to bypass Apple¡¯s thick cow-leather coat?Perhaps if they prayed to their primitive gods hard enough their sticks and rocks would windpurchaseon an area not protected by his precious leather.


    Goblins wouldcontinueto charge with a frenzy one could only muster when theirlivelihoodwas at stake.Many would burn, drown, or simply be crushed by Apple¡¯s superiorstrengh. Those thatsurvivedwould poke one, barely a concern to the much more powerful Apple, but what about another poke? And Another?


    A prick to the side. A thump tothe forearm. A poke to the thigh.A slam to the shin.A sting to the stomach. Even the occasionalarrow managed to break skin.Though, tiny bowswielded by tiny people, firing twigs that haven¡¯t even beenhardened by the black of fire, failed to maimsignificantly.


    Individually thewound Apple suffered wereof no concern at all. Individually, however, was the key word. One scratch to the chest was of littlenotice, but what about thirty?


    Just as how ants overpower thevastly greaterspider withtheir sheer numbers, the goblins did same to Apple.


    They surrounded him from the only two available directions he could move. At first it was easy. Tens of goblins fell to his magic and the ones that did notwere met with the strikes of his equipment.Yet, as minutes passed and more and more kept coming.So many in fact their grotesquecorpses shielded the newbies on the battlefield from his might.


    Apple, a sorcerer that possessed ahorrificallyaverage amountofdwimmer,accompaniedbyan apprentice levelrepertoireof spell knowledge,was slowly being overwhelmed.


    He believed that the main reason he had yet to suffer a serious blow was due to his small silent shadow protecting him, whilst hefocussedon thehorde.


    Apple was down to abouta thirdof hisdwimmerreserves and even lessof hisstamina.


    He performed the spell formula for the fire magic:¡°torrent of flames¡± the spell was typically called,sending the formulato his catalyst for deciphering. Once done he willed the magic back down his arm, into the stomach, straight up his righthand,andfinally into the torchclutched within it. Using thealready burningflameasapseudo-catalyst, his spell forced the fire to grow and feed upon the goblins in front of him ¨C all the while swatting at another patch of the creatures with his staff.


    They screamed and howled as theywere roastedalive, yet Apple never heard them. Their existence already forgotten, as he now kicked anewgoblin in the nose,a peskyindividualwho had just stabbed him in the leg while he scorched its brethren. As soon as he did that, he felt another pinch of painuponhis back. He turned to face the cause and saw a goblin with a bow in the near distance jumping up and down in joy, as one of its arrows had buried itself in his coat. That was now the fifth arrow that had successfully lodged itself in his leather attire, all barely causing any damage to himself, never the less it was all adding upand wear him down.


    Apple unleashed a quick blast of water at the bowman, knowing it would notbe enough to kill it, but hopefully enough to destroy its flimsy bow string.


    It was now becoming painfully obvious to Apple that his current predicament was a losing battle. His eyes darted wildly for an escape route. He was confident he couldat leastcreate an opening in thepasty-greencrowdslong enough to flee through, but whichdirection? Everything looked the same in this tunnel and Apple had become so discombobulated from the fight, he no longer knew whichwarleadto the exit.


    ¡°Forwards, backwards. Forwards, backwards. Forwards, backwards...¡± He mumbled to himself between each laboured breath.


    He finally decided forwards as it possessed the least number of goblins on that side. With a panicked haste he casted the same steam spell he had used to escape theEspavailierinthe city ofPier.


    The magic came quick from practice andwilfuldesperation. He lingered for several seconds, fighting other goblins in the meantime, waiting for the burning cloud of water to completely envelope the legion in his path.


    Once satisfied enough had become blinded by the steam, Apple called to Mula:¡°Mula! Climb on my back, Mula!¡± He cried, unsure where she was.


    A pause and then the quietestutterance of the word¡°Kay,¡±was heard. Immediatelyafterwards Applefeltsudden soft weight of life appearing on his back.


    Apple surrounded himself, and what he prayed was Mulatoo,asmalltornado and charged into the scalding steam. The vortex around him successfully flung the flouting dropletsofwet flames away fromthe pair.


    Even when he had left the shroud of white and dissipated his shield, Applestillcontinued to run blindly forward, creating as must distance between him and the horde as possible.


    He eventually came across a trio of separate tunnels and happily burrowed further into the unknown goblin lair. Ithad quickly becomepainfully obvious he had gone the wrong direction, yetsinceturningwas akin tosuicide, Applehad little choice but toventureforth.


    More and more options presented themselves as Apple continued to storm through the mazeof clandestine burrows. His unthinkinghastewas at least rewarded with the growing silence of the enemy that chased him, they too must have become lost in their own nest.


    Apple found himself in an open space for the first time since he had arrived. A vast circle ofelevatedrocks,jaggedstalagmites, and drooling stalactites. What Apple truly found amazing about this area, was not the frightening architecture or its size, nor the strangeness of its difference, it was the fact that he could see all of its interior without a light of his own.


    Scattered around the walls were lit torches much likeApple¡¯s own, except these still possessed the fuel needed to feed the fire.Mula jumped off Apple¡¯s back and the two began to move forward andinvestigate the area.Apple wondered why beings that could see in the dark would need torches.Did the light symbolise something?


    As they ventured further and further away from the room¡¯s entrance and closer to the torches, a figure presented itself.


    Sat atop what looked to be a throne made of bones of various species was a goblin. A proud looking fiend that studied the pair with vulture-likeeyes and asolemnexpression. Both of them were unsure on how to reactto this new character. This was the first time a goblin had notimmediatelyhissed and attacked them. No, this goblin sat with a straightproudback and causally tapped the clearly human skull that made the end of the throne¡¯s armrest. Apple may have found the sight of a lesser creature mimicking nobility amusing, were it not for his exhaustion and the clear confidence this creature radiated.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The two locked eyes. Appraising each other through the red hue of scattered flames. Apple took advantage of the standoff, using it to catch his breath. Still, he kept his lips puckered, ready tobellowa spell at any moment.


    ¡°So, I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re the leader of this establishment?¡± Apple asked. Deciding it couldnothurt to try and have a conversation with thisgoblin, now that his breathing was steady.


    It simply continued to stare at him, its expression never changing in the slightest.


    Knowing it to be pointless, yet believing it to be the right thing to do, Apple tried sparing the creature¡¯s life. ¡°I am the great and powerful magician: Apple!¡± He bellowed. ¡°Next to me stands the swift and furious: Mula. We have slain many of your men and order you to surrender and flee this place.Also,if you have treasure or people laying around, those are now ours too.¡± Apple boldly declared.


    Apple found his answer in theform oftwo arrows finding themselves inside hisback.


    Mula screamed and Apple fell to his knees from the unexpected force that assaulted him. While forcibly lowered, Apple saw two goblins from either side of his peripherals step out from the shadows andstalktowards him. The biggestgoblins hehadacross so far, dressed instretchedhideand armed withclearlyhuman-made spears. It would appear that the goblin leader had been also stalling for time as well.


    ¡°Archers, Mula! Find the archers!¡± Apple spat, along with strings phlegm and blood. The girlfailedrespond but Appleto his command although hecould no longer feel her presence near him.


    The leader¡¯s guardsmen werealmost upon him now. Thrusting their iron tipped poles at the air, mocking his impending demise. Their leader remained lounging upon his throne, grinning down at Applewith those vile yellow goblin teeth.


    Apple smirked right back at him, it seemed they were underestimating him a little too much. How dare they make him bend to theseinferior creatures.


    He threw his lifeless torch at the goblin to his left in anmockact ofdesperation,an act the goblin easily dodged and cackled at. As soon as Apple heard that condescending laugh, he unleashed a geyser of water at the goblin to his right. The creature was thrown from its feet and Apple wascertainthe blast at least shattered its ribs.


    Apple smiled wider at their leader, its own grin was now replaced withcompletebewilderment, it appeared that this goblin had never came across a magicianand their abilitiesbefore. However, the goblin to his left was no longer savouring thehuntand charged at Apple, its wicked spear gripped tightly in both hands.


    Just as he was about to cast another spell, he felt another arrow burrow itself in the flesh of his back. These archers must be using a higher qualitybow than the previous goblins, thesearrows wereeasily able to bypass his poor excuse for armour.


    Apple¡¯s vision went black and he collapsed to his hands. Hisarms shook violently from the effort of simply holding hisweight. Hisentire body burned, the copious amount of sweat that rained down him did nothingto soothe him. He could feel more liquidsdribble fromhis nostrils and clog his throat. He forced a coughing fit upon himself to help prevent his own fluids from suffocating him.


    Apple was knocked further to the ground from the sudden kick to the chin from the goblin leader. No longer acting all high and mighty, he now stood in front of theproneApple, wielding a bronze short sword andsmall roundshield of wood and animal hide. Apple tried to cast a spell in retaliation, however was unable to find gaps in his wheezing to do so. Instead he willed his remainingdwimmertopump through his body,invigorating him just enoughtoable tojumpto his feet.


    As soon as he stoodup, the goblin leader stabbed at him with his sword,despite the factApplewas clearly stillflustered,hemanaged to dodge thestrikeand return his own, albeit clumsily. The creature easily parried the weak blow and returned a swing at Apple¡¯s hands. This time, however, Apple was unable to movefastenough and felt the tip of hisringfinger depart from the rest of him.


    The pain of the parting was cut short by the sudden sensation of a spear piecing his side. Apple, trying to see the positives in the situation he was in,found agrey humourabout all the scars he¡¯willacquire today to impress the maidenswith in the future, should he survive of course.


    Using hisnumbdelirium to his advantage, Apple grabbed hold of the spear in his side and held it tightly in place.He barely even wincedorgroanedwhile the guard jerked the spear back and forth, in an effort to free it from his grasp.


    The leader swung his bladeagainat Apple, a blow he just managed to block with his staffin the nick of time.The staff dropped to the floor, Apple¡¯s hand had becometoo weak and greasy from his own blood toequal the goblin¡¯s strength.Using his own failing as a distraction, Apple kickedangrilyat the leader, forcing him back several paces.


    Apple took advantage of the tiny window hehadgiven himself and turned his attention towards the spear-user. He took hold of the goblin¡¯s closest hand with his freehand and twisted its delicate fingers clasped around the spearin one swift motion. Once he felt the snapping of bone and saw the creature gulp air in preparation for screaming, he sent it tumbling with a kick as well, claiming the spear as his own.


    He yanked the metal tip free from his flesh, swapping it out forhis nowcrippled hand to help stop the bleeding.


    Releasedfromhisdaze, the leader was once again upon Apple, swinging at him with an increasedfrenzy. Apple retreated from theslashes, using the difference intheir reachto his advantage. Unfortunately, his tired one-arm jabs werealsotoo feeble,allowing the goblin leader to effortlessly block with hisshield.


    The two moved around the room as they duelled. Apple, foreveron thedefensive, completely unable to find achink in the enemy¡¯s own defence. His skill further dulled by theconstant worry of another one of its minionsjoining the fray.


    Apple was reaching his limit and his opponent knew it. He had been fighting and running none stop for almost an hour now, his body was a canvas of holes and a painting ofvariousreds. The goblin leader,in contrast,had suffered nolastingwounds at all and did notutter a single unsteady breath while he fought. Apple prayed that Mula was okay and about to save him,awish he was far too exhausted to feel embarrassed about.


    His prayer wasfinallyanswered in the form of a knife rammed into his foe¡¯s back. Apple used the distraction to plunge his new spear into the goblin¡¯s shoulder.


    The goblin leader screeched and swung his sword around at Mula, also forcing Apple to retreat his spear fromthecreature¡¯sflesh.


    Apple saw in the corner of his eye, the blurry haste of Mula as she ducked under the bronze blade just in time. Before Apple could stab the leader again, a cold and soaked goblin jumped ontohis back and buried its foulknife-liketeeth into his shoulder. Instinctively, Apple released the pressure from woundathis side and attempted to pry thevampiricsuckling from his frame.


    The goblin tangled itself around himtightly, Apple¡¯ssapped strength failed to budgethe creatureeven an inch.


    He was only finally able to get the parasite to wiggle when he jammed his thumb and index fingersinto itsbeadyeyes. Ignoring the revolting texture of the pulsating white flesh, he twirled his fingers wildly, grinding the solid structure into a fine paste. Only when his fingers felt nothing but airand a viscous liquidwhile they spun, did he feel the goblin¡¯sjawat lastloosen.


    Now that he had finally freed himself, he turned his attention to the leader, ignoring the fire coursing through his body and the sound of hisownlaboured gurgles.


    While he had been distracted by the goblin feasting upon him, Mula had been battling the goblin leader the whole time. Her body hosted several gashes from the creature¡¯s polished blade;her breath ragged,yetcompared to Apple she was completely fine, for now at least.


    No longer possessing the element of surprise, she was clearly outmatched by the goblin. While faster andnimbler, the goblin leader boasted superior equipment, strength, and experience. All Mula seemed to be capable of doing was dodging, and even that was becoming obviously more difficult as the battle drew on.


    Apple limped towards the two and stabbed at the goblin with his spear. While the blow met no resistance or objection, the thrust failed to even puncher the goblin¡¯s crude armour. It was as if Apple merely poked him gently,as ifone woulddoto get a friend¡¯s attention. ¡°Come at me,yapointy nosed bastard.¡± Applebarelymanaged to taunt.


    Seeing his feeble state, the goblin happily obliged. Leaping at Apple with his sword aimed at theApple¡¯sthroat. Apple did what only his body would allow him to, he merely collapsed to the ground. Not expecting thiskind of retaliation at all, the goblin leader leapt completely over Apple and landed behind hisbodywith a slight confused stumble.


    Mula copied the goblin,leapingover Apple, absorbing the falling momentum into her thrustwith ease. The goblin saw her fly towards him and readied himself withbowedlegs.


    A single breath before the two collided, the prone Apple kicked out at the goblin¡¯s shin, causing it to fall toone of hisknees. In that single moment of shock, Mula¡¯s knife met the creature¡¯s exposed face and skidded all the way down it, only finally stooping at where the creature¡¯s bellybutton should be.


    The goblin leader roared! Its skin peeled from where it was sliced in half, exposingthemurky brown fleshbeneath. ¡°Finish-it-Mula!¡± Apple gurgled, his words muffled by the stone floor.


    Once he heard nothing but Mula¡¯s pained breaths didAppleknow she had done what he asked. With a job well done, Apple went asleep.

 Chapter 12: The Shattering of Youth

    Darknesswassuch a comforting experience. It neither assaults the senses withanoverwhelmingintensity, nordidreveal any unpleasantness one may happen upon in the world. Therewasno time in darkness. No worries in darkness. No exhaustion in darkness. Onlyever a relaxingnumbnessin darkness.


    Itcould havebeencold, yet it wasdifficultto tell when that all therewas tofeel. Therewas alsono one else to bother you in thecalm void, their existence unproven with no way of sensing them. If there is no one except yourself, couldyou truly ever be alone?


    Apple certainly was not.


    He had his memories and the people that dwelled within them. A scene of himselfas a childdining on ahandfulof fresh rosehips,whilstsheltered under a sunlit tree flashed byin his mind. The time his father discovered he wasdwimmer-blessedandthe proud face he displayedat the news. His brief apprenticeship at the Crystal Castle and meeting the renown Duke that ruled the structure. His first love, an accomplishedprostitute whotook hisfirsttime in hisadolescence. Sadly, not all of the memories that filed by were pleasant - however.


    His elder brothers beating him under his favourite tree. His father discovering that Apple¡¯s youngersister was alsodwimmer-blessedand possessed a talent for it thateclipsed his own. The heckling from his masters and fellow apprentices at thatquartz palace. The realisation that the prostitute who took his virginity was only kindand sweetto himwasbecause he simply paid herto be.


    It would seem that in life it was impossible to have the good without the bad and vice versa. All Apple could do was either embrace the bad and use its experiencesto help him grow, or hide it deep awayfrom hissenese, less he ever thinks about it again.


    **********


    ¡°Apple, apple! Wake up!¡±


    Apple flickered his eyelids slowly. His consciousness laggedas itattempted to return tothe physicalworldand with it, the great pains his body had endured. Cuts and bruisesinfectedand inhabited his flesh. A deep gauge in his side from a spear stung as the humid air touched it. A bulbous lump of puncture marksplagued his shoulder. A scatteringof arrowswas nestledinside the meat of his back. A slick hand of dried blood and decapitated finger. Nausea from blood loss and arapidlygrowing fever from the ill humours that crept through hisopenwounds.


    ¡°Apple! Can you hear Mula?¡±A frightened sounding voice from beside asked.


    Apple licked his cracked lipswith his dry tongueand forcefully coughed the lastdregsof his saliva from his throat into his mouth. ¡°Water...¡± He managed to croak.


    A moment later he felt awarmliquid trickle down his gullet, invigorating himever so slightly.


    Once the waterfall stopped and his mouthhadbecomemoister,hewasableto regain himself. ¡°Hey, Mula.¡± He gasped. ¡°Any goblins shown up since I took a nap?¡±


    Apple was unsure what kind of expression the girl was making. He tried to turn his head and look at her but it simply hurt just too muchto do so. ¡°No,¡± she whispered. ¡°Nogobbiessince we kill the ones in this room.¡± She replied. Her false bravery evident in the hiccups that slipped through her words.


    Apple sighed with relief. He was certain more goblins would have shownup at some point but he was at least glad Muladid not haveface any of them on her own. Well, as of right now she still would have to,forApplewas nothing but a breathing corpse at this moment. ¡°You¡¯ve donewell, Mula.¡± He praised her. ¡°You¡¯ve done so much for me, but sadly I still need your help.¡±


    Apple heard her gulp. ¡°Kay. What you need?¡±


    ¡°I need you to grab one of the torches from the wall.¡± He requested of her. Then followed by the all too familiar ¡°Kay,¡± and the sound of footsteps dissipating in thedistance.


    Growing footstepsnow, accompanied by the warmth and light of fire, indicated her return.


    ¡°Good job, Mula. Now, what I¡¯m about to ask of youisn¡¯t going to be easy.¡±


    ¡°Kay, what Mula do to help?¡±


    ¡°I need you cut my coat into pieces so my wounds are visible, don¡¯t worry the coats useless now anyway.Then I need you to place that torch on all the big wounds.¡±


    ¡°But wouldn¡¯t that hurt?¡± She squeaked.


    ¡°Oh,it¡¯s going to be the most painful thing I¡¯ve ever experienced. But it beats bleeding to death.¡± He told her with complete honesty.


    ¡°Mula don¡¯t want to hurt Apple.¡±She stuttered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think aboutit as hurting me. You¡¯re saving me. You¡¯ll be my hero.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a hero?¡±


    An unexpected question, Apple mused. ¡°Erm, a hero is someone who does good things and helps people. Everyone loves a hero,myselfincluded.¡±


    There was a long pause, followed by the eventual sound of cutting. He began to feel thewarmair as it touched his bare skin, oh how itstung. Now that his torso was completely bare, he waited.


    ¡°Mula, what are waiting for? Hurry up.¡±


    ¡°But, but¨C¡°


    ¡°No buts.¡± He ordered. ¡°I know what I¡¯m asking is hard, definitely something a child shouldn¡¯t have to do, but you signed up for this. I need you Mula. Please be my hero and save me.¡± He begged


    ¡°O-kay. Mula will be your hero.¡±She nodded.


    Apple smiled, he was proud of her. ¡°Wait!¡± He suddenly cried.


    ¡°What?¡± She yelped.


    ¡°Put one of those strips of leather you cut of in mygob, preferably a less bloody one.¡±


    ¡°Kay.¡± Apple felt an invisible forced jam a piece of leather in hismouth. Now all that was left to do was wait.


    After what felt like a lifetime, hewasfinallykissed by the flame.


    Mula hovered the torch over the wound in Apple¡¯s side as close as possible without touchingkissingitwith the woodof the torch. Immediately he screamed. It was agony. Simpleprimalagony,the time he was forced to place his hands nearafire tomelt the copper of hiscatalystcould not even compareto what heexperiencednow.


    His veins bulged and his body spasmedwildly, his only positive emotion was the joy he felt in remembering to ask Mula to put leather in his mouth, if shehad not, he would have bit through his tonguelong ago.Although, even with the leatherto aid him, he couldstilfeelhis teethgrindtogether through the tough material.


    Appleeventually no longer feltthe fire upon his skin and almost weptwith relief, until he remembered it was far from over.


    Over and over the flames cauterised his exposed flesh, causing him to sweat profusely and pass outfrom shock over and over againduring the wholeinopportunemedical procedure. On several occasions he hadto franticallyrearrange the leather in his mouthwith tongue, due to biting clean through it three times.


    His shoulder, his thigh, the stumphere his finger once wiggled, and several places on his torso had once again become sealed thanks to thepoweroffire. Albeit instead of pleasing skin,form of ugly charred scabs that beckoned infectionnow laidacrosshis body. Apple wasnottoo worried about the foul humours that would soon assault himthough, hisdwimmer-fuelledbody would destroy most of the humours without him having to doanything.Atthis moment in time Applehad amuch more worrisome concern. The five arrows lodged in his back still remained. He feared this moment the most, for how could a child pull out the missiles and not damage his insides in the process. Apple hoped greatly that the arrows didnotpossess a stone or metal head and instead just a sleek piece of sharpened twig.


    Apple could feel the intensity of Mula¡¯s thoughts as her gaze bore down on his back. They had no tools nor experience to aid them. Just yank and burn;yank and burn.


    ¡°Don¡¯t keep me waiting, Mula. We bothknowwhat you must do to me. Better now than later.¡± He told her calmly, as he rested sideways upon the floor. The warmth of his scorched wounds almost relaxing, like a warm summer day.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±Sheobjected.


    ¡°Please Mula, please. You¡¯ve already healed most of my wounds, just a few more to go.¡±


    ¡°But-but, what if Mula pulls one out wrong and it gets stuck?¡±She tried to reason.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a risk I¡¯mwilling to take. More of those ugly bastardswill be here soon. I won¡¯t be able to fight them with these arrows paralysing the muscles in my back.¡±


    Then there was silence. Not a single sound did Apple hear, except for his ownlabouredbreaths. It appeared that Mula lacked a rebuttal, yet was still unwilling to free the arrows from inside him. Apple was loathed to nag a child until they agreed to cause him immense pain and risk his life.However,Apple had always been a little on the selfish side.


    ¡°Mula...¡± He said ever so softly. ¡°Remember, Mula, I¡¯m magic. Us magicians are a bit tougher than the average man, we also heal faster. The only reason I¡¯m still alive right now is because of my magic, and the very same magic that flows through my body will keep me alive while you pull the arrows from my back.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± She whispered, her child mind feedinguponthe wonderousconcept of magic¨Cclinging toithopefully.


    ¡°Yes, really. So please, Mula. Do it; I beg you.¡±


    He felt the flesh of his back contort backwards. The dried blood that coated the wooden shaft became moist again from the spasms of the moving arrow. Apple felt Mula spin, shimmy, and tug at the arrow until it eventually came out with a pop. He felt nothing drag his flesh along with it as it was pulled out of him,foretellingthat it was mostly likely just woodin its entirety. Next came the fire, anall too familiar warmth that Apple refused to acknowledge was touching him. He could notallow himself to succumb to the pain and cry out, for Mula¡¯s sake.


    ¡°Great job, Mula. Just four more to go.¡± He wheezed through grittedbloodyteeth.


    The secondremovalwas very much like the last,torture that threatened to silence his consciousness, yet thankfully wasstill just sharpened wood.Withdespairevidentin Mula¡¯s actions, the third arrow was armed with a head of a different material.


    It could have been rockor metal that protruded from the stick, not that Applepondered what it was too much.The sensation of it leaving his body and dragginga chunk of himself along with itdistracted his thoughtsquite well. This time, he wasunable tohold in his anguish. A sudden roar, quicklyfollowed by a forced cough to attempt to bury his screams came after.


    ¡°Areyou okay?¡± He barely heard Mula ask.


    Apple gathered himself as fast as possible. ¡°Me?¡± Hemimickedcausally. ¡°I¡¯m fine...Just,justcarry on...¡±


    The sting of fire was his answer.Only two more to go.


    Fatemust have landed a drop of pity upon Apple as the fourth arrow was just wood.The drop must have evaporated just before Mula yanked free the fifth.


    Again, scraps ofhis valuable flesh, blood and muscle were scooped out of him as if the goblin had shot him with a particularlyjagged arrow-tip. It was the last one and Apple was too tired to fight his primal urges, so he screameda horse scream. A thunderous cry that bulged the veins in his neck and aged his throat by several years in an instant. Not even the chewed leather in his mouth was able to muffle the magnitude of his trauma.


    When the final touch of fire left the hole in his back, Apple¡¯s body collapsed. Not a single bit of tension lurked within his frameanymore. If one stood far enough away, unable to see the details of Apple¡¯sbody, they wouldprobablythink he looked quite peaceful.


    ¡°Apple! Apple! Apple!¡± He heard Mula cry in his ear.


    He failed to stir. All desire had left him and now he wished nothing more than to remain completely still ¨C forever.Although, much to his annoyance,hecould not dothatright now, no matter how much he wanted to. The brave little girl beside him needed a least one more slice of praisefor her effortsbefore he rested.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°I¡¯m alive Mula.¡± He mumbled. His words barely audible as his lips were pressed against thedampground. ¡°Yadid great...Gonnarest now. Wake me when goblins show up...¡±


    ***********


    What Apple told Mula was a lie in a sense,he was not asleep, although he was at least asrested as a person could be before they were truly titled as unconscious.


    Using the tiny trickle of consciousness left in the physical world, he willed thelast of hisdwimmerwithin him to heal himself. He knew no spells nor held vast knowledge about the human body to assist him,neverthelessit was better than nothing.


    He induced a fever upon himself, burning hisdwimmerfiercelysoit burnedthe ill humours that have crept inside him. He also used the warmth to relax his muscles; aidingintheir recovery. A whisper of water was sent to his blood and told to procreate. His last reverses of the raw mystical energyhe was blessed withwasspread throughout his body and ordered to cure him in any way possible. A crude method to say the least,yet it was the best he could do. The major downside of what Apple was doing, however, was that heburnedmoredwimmerthan he could produce, meaning that hewouldonly have asmereplash left when the goblins would arrive.


    ***********


    It was not the cries of Mula that eventually stirred Apple, it was merely himself. Just as how one would awake from their slumber for a reason unknown at time, Apple too awoke from neither the aid of the outside world, nor from the completion ofhisrest.


    Apple spat dry phlegm from his mouth and pressedhis palmsupon the ground to rise himself. His body still ached horribly and he shook while he stood, yet stand he still did. Something that only very recently was impossible for the magician.


    It was dark in the room. The torches that were scattered around ithadallbeensnuffed outby time. His body trembled from the cold, as his upper body was now completely exposed to the elements.


    ¡°Mula? Where are you, Mula?¡± He cried out into the darkness, while healsosearched forhiscatalyst.


    No response. Apple began to worry and looked for his staff with a growing desperation. It did nottake long to finditluckily,forit was right next to where he had rested, just hidden behind the veil of blackness and groggy eyes.


    As soon as his hand clasped the familiar wooden shaft, he invokeda light spell.


    Once everything was visible againthrough an orange tint, he searched for Mula.


    It only took a second to recognise her silhouette sat about twenty feet in front of him, facing away. Apple forgot the existence of caution andlimped with hastetowards her. He almost tripped over the corpse of a goblin as he approached.


    He paused for a moment and noticed that four goblin bodies surrounded the unmoving girl. Apple scanned the room and saw all the goblins he had foughtearlier;these remains were new toApple.


    He darted towards her with increased panic, the threat of reopening his injuriesdidnot eventicklehis mind.


    She was breathing.Her hunchedframe rocked back and forthsoftly while she slept sat up.Placed upon her lap was theshort sword of the former goblin leader, drenched inthickbrown ichor.


    Apple inspected her gently, not wishing to disturb her. Apart from the occasional scratch and being covered in goblin blood, she seemed fine. Apple was impressed. He had acquired a deadly little thing on his journey, shewould mostcertainlymake a fine warrior when shehadallgrown up. Apple thought that heshouldincrease his physical training, or shewould quicklysurpass him in only a few years,perhapseven less.


    He would notjust get stronger for his own pride though. Shame clung to him the moreand more whilsthegazedat the sleeping child. He had relied far too much on her. Apple was most likely twice her age and he had been treating her like a fellowcompanion. She was supposed to be his shadow, his helper, not his equal. He had no doubt in his mind that shewould become far stronger than him in the future, butright now she was not. She needed some pampering while she was still young, he doubted shehadbeen given any her entire life and he didnot want that trend to continue. Apple decided that after this, theywouldbe going on a much more¡°child friendly¡±adventure.


    For now, however, he still had a mission to do. They needed to hunt down the remaining goblins and look for any hostagesandhopefullyacquiresome loot along the way.


    Henudgedher awake. ¡°Hey there, sleepy-head.¡± He smiled.


    Apple saw a flash of primal instinct on Mula¡¯s face, quickly followed by recognition,¡°Apple!¡± She beamed. ¡°You¡¯re alive.¡± She leapt to her feet and hugged him tightly, startling him. He eventually wrapped his arms awkwardly around her as well,ignoring the pain it brought. Heunused to displays of affectionand was extra careful not to whack her with his heavy catalystby accident.


    ¡°All thanks to you, kid.¡± He replied, composing himself.


    ¡°Sorry for not waking you. Only fourgobbiesshowed up. Mula knew she could take them on own.¡± She apologisedwith aboast.


    ¡°I know, Mula, I know. We¡¯ll talk later...¡± Apple looked towards the exit.¡°I¡¯m bloody sick of this cave. Let¡¯s just finish our job here and head back to that hairy fellow¡¯s house - whose name suddenly escapes me.¡± Hegroaned.


    ¡°Kay.¡± She nodded.


    The two releasedtheir embrace,Apple stretchedhis damaged bodywhile Mula picked up her new bronze sword. Apple kept his mouth shut, he actually had planned to claim that sword for himself, but could notbear to ask Mula to part with it. He hoped hewouldfind something just as good as they scoured the rest of the cave.


    **********


    The pair retraced their steps and ventured into every single tunnel they came across. So far, they had come across nothing but dead ends and the occasionalfewgoblins. They never saw more than five at once, even while tired and greatly injured, the creatures were easily slaughtered. The mayhemthe pair had caused must have dispersed the remainder of the cowardly creatures into every nook and cranny of their home.


    Apple was mostly upset that he had failed to find any item more advanced than a stone axe and even those were quite rare. He was sure one of his father¡¯s men had mentioned that goblins liked to steal things, perhapsthey kept it all in one designated treasure room.Although, the more Apple thought about it, the more he realised that since the only people the goblins stole from werelowly surfs, they mostly likely didnot possessanythingworthwhile. The two had also yet come across another human being, if there were any prisoners, they were probably kept in the same roomor nearby for they too were a type of treasure.


    After several more fruitless tunnels, they finally happened upon another open area. While of very similar design to the leader¡¯s lair, it was much smaller and lacking decorative fireof his domain. It was so small in fact that Apple could see the other side from the entrance, and the shape of another cavern along hiding along its body.


    As they marched through that opening, the smellthat already houndedthemworsened.


    Apple had grown fairly accustomed to the foul scents that dwelled within this cave. He believed he probablymost likely did not smell much better either. Yet, thescentsthat wafted their way towards himmade him feel like he had entered this place for the first time all over again.


    The all too familiar smell ofexcrement,urine, muck, andagedentrailsdesecrated his nose and clogged his throat. Smells he couldnoteven identify choked his eyelids and burned the flesh of his irises. The aromas grew stronger and stronger as he pressed forward.


    Then Applesaw thesource of the smells.


    In thatverysameinstant, he took hold of Mula and threw her back into the tunnelfrom whence they came.


    ¡°Don¡¯t come in here!¡± Heroaredat her, while she laid breathless upon the groundin shock. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare come in here, or I¡¯ll abandon you, forever!¡± He spat, completely uncaring of her feelings at this very moment.


    Apple turned back towards the room of smells and prayed Mula would obey him, even if it meant hating himforever.


    He found his goblins, he found hisdesiredtreasure, and he found his hostages.


    He could notbelieve how foolish he was. The signs were all there. The warnings from that woman about Mula joining him in goblin slaying. The lack of girls around the hamlet. The very nature of all living creatures, so well-known to everyone, yet Apple had ignored them all for he had yet totrulymature.


    The circle may have forced him to grow in many ways, ithad also forced him hide from the desires of the living. He had spent over a year hiding from lifeitselfandhadgot pretty good at it too.Alassolitude leads only to imagination. Wondrous dreams of epic adventures, vast treasure, beautiful damsels in distress, and most importantly hope. Splendid fantasies to rival any children¡¯s book. Sweet, sweet delusions that filled the unknown gaps of reality.


    All this time the onlythingApple had truly takenseriously was the Circle. Wild animals, bandits, even hordes ofgoblins, allfantasticchapters in his story.


    Not too long ago he was sprawled on a cave floor bleeding to death, yet even then Apple was never truly worried. What a moving part in a novel it would make. He even thought about the manly scars hewouldacquire from it.


    This was the first time Apple truly saw the world. Something no teeth, spears, arrows, or evenpowerfulmagicshad managed to accomplish. Right now, absolutely nothing was trying to harm him, they were far too occupied to do so. He never felt so hopelessly ignored.


    Women. All around the roomwere women.Young women, old women. Small women, large women.


    For every two women there was one goblin present in the room. All either laid atop a woman, or gluedecstaticallybehind them.


    Naked defiled bodieslaidlimpacrossthecoldground,whilstfoul creaturesbarely taller thaninfants thrashed around inside themgleefully. Only the occasional gasp indicted life in the goblin¡¯streasure.


    For the first time in Apple¡¯s magical life, fire was first and only choice of battle. He lacked skill and affinity to use the elementsaffectively, yet right nowhis mindevenonce considered an alternative. It was themanifestationof destructionitselfandthat was whatAppledesperately desired in this moment.


    He charged and took hold of the skull of a goblin,a vile creaturethathand noteven noticed his presence as it lost itself in ecstasy. Embers dribbledfromApplesfingers and feasted upon the goblin¡¯sbulbous cranium. Its horse screams fuelled Apple¡¯s rage as he crushed its calcium shield in his grip and boileditspathetic excuse for abrain. Only when its skullcompletelybecame a puddle and its brain was sliced intopiecesby Apple¡¯sgrip, its ooze drippingthrough the gaps in between his fingers, did Apple finally let go.


    Not even bothering to wipe any of the gunk ofhis scarred hand, he pounceduponanotherof the monsters, howling all the while.


    Apple roared so loudhis own ears shook from the pitch;He didnotcare. He needed them to hear him;to see him;to smell him;to notice him as theirgreatestenemy. It was vital toApplethat they attacked him immediately, he couldnotallow even one more second of their defilement to occur ¨C herefused to.


    He screechedin satisfaction as themonsters finally came at him.


    Lacking a weapon, one leapt at Apple with gaping maw and readied claws. Apple jammed his arm willingly inside its revolting mouth and cooked its insides. Heyankedhis arm freewithoutgrace, dragging asmuch of thecreature''sinsidesalong with it.


    Another came at him and he simply caved in its skull with his staff. Unsatisfied with that kill, Apple grabbed another of the fiends by its gluttonous maw, lifting it off the ground to eye level, welding itsownlips shut with the red aura of his palm.His free hand he took hold of itsdelicatewristand forced it to tear open its throat with the pointed nails ithadthreatened him with.Stillnotfeelingslightlysatisfied, he threw the creaturecarelessly to the groundandsearchedfor more prey. Most were crowding around him now, weary of his might, yipping pitifully at him. He took no notice of them, however, for at the back of the room were two goblins still partaking in their prisoner¡¯s flesh;Apple blacked out.


    **********


    When he awoke once more, he found himself standing in the centre of the treasure room. His body stiff from the weight of the blood and innards that clung to it. In his left hand was hisbelovedstaff, in his right was a goblin¡¯s arm he did notrememberclaiming.


    All around the room werethebeaten andsmokyremains of goblins, almost none of them still possessed all of their limbs, some even lacking a head.


    This wasnotthefirst timeApplehad lost himself to rage, yet it the first timehefailed to feel a single shred of remorse. Every single fibre of his being told him thesecreatures had to cease existing, his actions made as much as sense tohis beingas eating and sleeping.


    Now that the goblins were all dead, next came the hardest part,tendingtothe women.


    ¡°Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead...¡± Hemumbled with a monotonous tone. ¡°Alive!¡± Apple finally breathed


    Applewouldtake it no more and weptwaterless tears. Never in his life had he seen such horror. Such one-sided vileness. Only one woman still drew breath and just barely at that. Some looked as if theyhadperishedweeks ago,bloated skin, contorted veins, and black lips. The goblins didnoteven try to rid their prizes of grubsthat feasted upon them. Two of them looked as young as Mula.Apple heaved over and over again but there was no food to be found in his stomach.


    Apple slumpeddown beside theonlyaliveprisonerand washed her body with warm waterwith his last few drops ofdwimmer. Hewould notallow anyone in the hamlet to see what covered her.


    Apple tried to find something to warm her with but came up empty. With complete silence, he picked up her limp body and placed herfrail body overhisgoodshoulder.


    He wanted to burn the rest of the bodies, to allow them even the slightest respect of passing, yet heno longerpossessedeven a singleslitherofdwimmerleft within him. With no other options, he finally left the room, never giving thegoblin¡¯smeagretreasure a second glace. His desire to leave trumped everythingelse.


    Back in the tunnel he found Mula waiting for him. He could notbring himself to meet her gaze after what he did to her. ¡°Let¡¯s go. I¡¯ve found the prisoner,¡±was all hecould bring himselfto say.


    Apple could feel Mula stare at the girl on hisslung across his shoulderintensely. After a few secondsof nothingness,she simply nodded and walked ahead of him.


    The two marched back through the cave in complete silence. The frail body on hisshouldergrowing heavier and heavier by the second. Luckily, they never saw a single living goblin on their wayout.


    It was night when they finally left thegoblin cave. They had been in that accused lairfor quite a whileit would seem.


    Mula immediately noticed the lanky hunter: Nick, propped beside the cave entrance. Sprinkled around him were over a dozen lifeless goblincorpses.


    Apple didnot need to inspect theNick¡¯s bodyto know he was dead, the blood, stiffness, and several tree branches protruding from his front told him enough.


    ¡°That explains why we never saw him again...What a shame, he seemed like a good man.¡± Apple sighed.


    Mula grunted in supposed agreement and crouched down next to the man. Apple saw her pick up a large blade from at his feet. When she returned to his side, he recognised the foot-long razor metal as ascramasax,asingle bladed iron dagger that he himself used to own, until he lost it in the side of a stampeding boara while back. Apple thought about asking for the short sword now that she had something more suited to herbut decided it was not agood time.


    Resisting the temptation to loot the man himself, Appleignored the wobbling of his legsand foggy breaths,and headed back towardsthe hamlet.


    He gazedlonginglyat the night sky, trying to distract himself from the fresh memories of the day¡¯s events. Yet he could not, for the full moon¡¯s beauty frustrated him. People of magic abilityand liquid affinitytypically lovedthe complete exposer of the moon.Itsmajestic curvatureand silver glow. He was nonormallyexceptioneither, but not tonight. Tonight, he wanted nothing shining down on him¨Che wantednothing at all.

 Chapter 13: The Final Farewell

    Apple stirred from his slumber. His idle body and the weight of the blankets draped over him made it difficultfor himto move. He flexedhis stiff physiqueand rolledaroundto cure theidlenessrestraining him. Once the chorus of satisfying cracks and pops was heard, he arose from where he laid, rubbing his eyes all the while.


    ¡°You¡¯re finally awake.¡± He heard ayoung femininevoice state.


    Apple creaked his head towards the direction of the voice. Sat upon a familiar looking wooden bucket was his young companion: Mula. She stared back at him with a neutral expression that only revealed a crumb of boredomwithin. In her hand was Apple¡¯s old knife, the rustyblade was being twirled into the tight gaps in between her finger. Under and over; under and over; under and over; with itfinallybeingflicked beneath her palm to start the game anew. Never once did her gaze fall upon the dancing dagger.


    ¡°I guess I am.¡± Apple replied, noticing Mula¡¯s unusually melancholy demeanour. ¡°Do you normally watch me sleep?¡± He joked.


    ¡°No. Mula doesn¡¯t like the people in the house, so Mula sit in barn.¡± She said, as the knife found its way back to her index finger with an effortlessflourish.


    ¡°House?¡± Apple mumbledin confusion. ¡°Oh! Gale¡¯s father¡¯s place. I forgot where I was for a second.¡±


    ¡°Mula¡¯s not surprised. You passed out as soon as we saw the house, afterkillin¡¯ all themgobbies.Mulagot hairy old man to put youin barn. You¡¯ve beensleeping for three days.¡±


    ¡°Three days...¡± Apple mimicked. Three whole days of sleep after their goblin slaying excursion. The sight of those grotesque creatures,all thefire, the women¨C so muchfire, it all came flooding back to Apple¡¯s mind.¡°Mula!¡±He had thrown her down to the ground andneverexplainedwhy. ¡°No wonder she seems so moody.¡±Apple thought.


    ¡°Yup, three days. Old annoying lady andscaredygirl helped you not die.¡± She explained. Never once did she move from where she sateversinceApple hadregainedconsciousness.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a tad embarrassing. Iassumethat means theyalso had to wipe myarse andpiss, like a baby.¡± Apple groaned, dragging his hand across his face while he didso.


    ¡°Yup. Mula laughed a lot whenscaredygirl got shit on her fingers and threw up.¡± She remarked in a monotonouspitch.


    Apple arose from where he sat and stared hard at Mula,his torso completely bare, except for the occasional wrapping of bandages. ¡°Look, Mula...¡± Hebegan,¡°about the cave. About me throwing you, I...I can¡¯t say why I did it. But please don¡¯t be mad at me.¡± He beggedquietly.


    ¡°Mula knows why you did it.¡±Shesocausally declared.


    Apple was stunned. ¡°What, you do?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Mula smelled the smells. Heard you shout andgobbiesscream. Saw yourface, while naked woman laid on your back.¡±


    Applewas unsure onhow to respond. Maybe some part of him knew shewouldunderstand. Perhaps that was what made him so desperate to hide the scene from her all the more. Appleused toconsiderhimself asmart manbut afterthe birth of the Circle reality had crashed down hard on hisintellect,yethe wasstill nofooleither.His small companion was from the slums, born a bastard birth. Sold as a slave to a rich old man of proudly admitted perversion. Hehadseen how skilfully and causally she had killed their enemies and absorbed the gruesome sightstheir travel had brought them. Her eyes would absorb the sights with the sameenthusiasmone would get fromwatching a man pick his nosein front of them. Still, Apple clung to the idea ofherblissful ignorance as if it was a baby andhadhopedto nurture it;he still planned to nurture it.


    Apple took a deep breath and sat beside Mula on the large upside-down bucket, hisrump justbarely managing to find space. ¡°I suspected you¡¯d comprehend what was going on in that room.¡± He admitted,¡°but I¡¯d do it again in a heartbeat ¨C I would. Just because you¡¯ve seen horrors that no one should ever have to seein your life, especiallyfor a child, doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to let you witness them again.¡±


    Mula finally stopped playing with her knife,and lookedat Apple next to her. ¡°Mula killsgobbiesand you don¡¯t mind. Why isthat any different?¡± She protested.


    Apple looked up at the barn¡¯s ceiling while he wrestled for an answer, admiring the wooden beams and panels that kept the structure intactas if they were the mostfascinatingthings in the world. ¡°A fair question, Mula - I¡¯ll admit. Honestly, I don¡¯t have a fair answer...What we saw, what we did yesterday was barbaric ¨C to say the least. I brought you along knowing full well we¡¯d been killing dozens of a species of no acquainted quarrel. All because I thought it¡¯d be exciting and a bountiful well of experience to drink from, which it most certainly was. However, while you¡¯re accompanying me, there are still things I never want you to see or do.¡±


    ¡°What if Mula thinks you¡¯re wrongand does what Mula wants.¡± She questioned, testing him.


    ¡°Depends, I guess.¡± Apple hummed, still staring at the ceiling with anidle kicking of his feet. ¡°If it¡¯s something small, like refusing to eat your vegetables, I¡¯d probably just give you a stern look. If its disobeying something as serious as the women incident...I don¡¯t know. This is tough, Mula. I¡¯m not your father nor your leader. Maybe a tutor - though. Something like that¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s atutor?¡±


    ¡°An easier question,¡± Apple was thankful for. ¡°A tutor is a teacher. If you don¡¯t what a teacher is, it¡¯s someone who helps you learn how to do things. Like learning how to read and write, wield a sword, tan a hide, or even magic.¡±


    Mula suddenly leapt from her spot on the bucketandgawkedat Apple with wide sparkling eyes. ¡°Magic? You can teach memagic? She cried.


    Apple returned her look with an awkward scratch of his nose. ¡°Umm...Maybe, I don¡¯t know. Don¡¯t get excited, Mula. You can¡¯t just learn magic, you need to be borndwimmer-blessed.¡± He explained.


    ¡°Dwimmer?¡± She echoed. ¡°What¡¯s that? How do you know if you havedwimmer?¡±


    ¡°Dwimmeris an invisible energy that dwells inside some intelligent humanoids. There are ways to find out of someone has it, but unfortunately I don¡¯t know any.¡± He grimaced, regretting his mention of magiccompletely.


    Mula¡¯s big bright eyes withered and her head slumped down. ¡°Oh....¡± Was all that she replied.


    Apple felt lousy. Hehadaccidentally gotten her all excited and happy again and then he had immediately taken it away. ¡°Wait,¡±he said, getting her attention once again. ¡°I may not know right now, but I could always learn how to do it. Nearly dying several times has made me realise that I¡¯m not as strong as I thought I wasand I didn¡¯t think I was very strong to begin with. I need to get more serious with my training, both physical and magical. But I can only do so much right now...I¡¯m sick of getting stabbed so armour is a must. I¡¯m annoyed at only having my catalyst as a melee weapon. I¡¯m tired of scavenging for food and mediocre clothing. But most importantly of all, I¡¯m sick of only knowing nine spells. I¡¯m going to change all that.¡± Apple vowed.


    ¡°Mula think Apple is strong. You kill manygobbiesand even magicfire-man.¡± She argued in his defence.


    Apple simply shook his head. ¡°Goblins. They¡¯re nothing, the lowest of the low. A couple of regular soldiers could do what we did. And don¡¯t shame me further with praise of slaying thatEspavailier,he was pathetic. A silver-thumb sucking man of averagedwimmer¨C at best, and so obviously possessed not a single ounce of combat experience in hispot-belliedbodyof his. Yet even so, I still only managed to best him thanks to him completely underestimating me andalsobecause of you, of course.¡± He admitted plainly, though he deliberately left out the part about blaspheming the Circle.


    Mula was silent for a brief while. An interesting look of concentration was evident on her face. ¡°Kay,¡±she finally replied. ¡°So, what do youwannado about it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked. As well as increasing my exercise regime and meditation, it¡¯s time we went to another city, or at least a largeborough. There we can get weapons, armour,and somecomfier clothing. Hopefully a spell book of some kindas well. With one of those I can learn how to search fordwimmerinside someone.¡±


    The twinkle in Mula¡¯s eyes returned and her body bounced with glee. ¡°Yippee! Let¡¯s go to city. Let¡¯s go now!¡±Shecommanded.


    Apple smiled,¡°not yet,young lady, not yet. First, we¡¯ve got to sort things out here. Also, I want to make this very clear, you most likely don¡¯t possessdwimmeras it is very rare. That¡¯s why you don¡¯t see many magicians wandering around.¡± He honestly told her.


    Apple did notbelieve Mula was magic born. Though he did admit the chances werenotcompletelyzero. Nobles were much more likely tobe borndwimmer-blessedthan the common folk but that was mostly because nobles had the luxury of selecting powerful matesto increase their chances.Dwimmerusers,also known as Hegel mage, received their magic through heritage,neverthelesssome anomalies have been recorded throughout history. Apple himself had a powerful fire user for a grandfather and several magicians in his extended family, not to mention hisprestigiouslittle sister. It was notimpossible for one of Mula¡¯s relatives to be a magician, theycertainly donotshy away from brothels, Apple knew that from experience.He briefly wondered if it was rude of him to naturally assume Mula¡¯s mother was a prostitute.


    ¡°Kay!¡± She beamed,interrupting Apple¡¯s thoughts.


    Apple shook his headslightly and smiled. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go head inside and see if they have any spare clothes left for me.¡±


    With that said, the two headed off towards the house connected to the barn. Apple buried the worries of what might occur when he finally comeface to face with Gale¡¯s familydeep below.


    **********


    ¡°Well,certainly wasn¡¯t expecting you up so soon ¨C I wasn¡¯t.¡± Remarked the gruff gentleman in front of Apple. The creaks of his footsteps while he walked did little to mask the man¡¯s booming voice.


    Apple had walked boldly into the household. Only a brief nock before he cast aside theflimsydoor wasthe onlydecorumhe had offered. He wasnotsure why he had entered the building so rudely, perhaps he just wished have the whole ordeal over with.Although,evenwith his impulsive intrusion, he marched gentlythrough the houseand sought the attention on an inhabitant as swiftly as possible.


    ¡°Sorry for the intrusion.¡± Apple apologised, with a distracting flick of his mattedaubernhair. ¡°I thought it would be best to see you as soon as I awoke,Ger.¡± He added, the name suddenly came back to him when the large man now stood only a mere foot in front of him.


    Ger folded his bear-like arms and nodded,¡°fair enough. Though I¡¯ll letyaknow that ifyatried that a few days ago, you¡¯d bin knocked out by me own boot, and not a bunch of goblins.¡±


    Apple laughed softly. While he had no doubt the man was serious, he was notdisplaying any hostility at the moment. ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t doubt that. Thanks for carrying me to your barn.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯tnothin¡¯, you should bethankin¡¯ me wife ¡®n¡¯ girl, they¡¯rethe ones whohealed yoursorrylookin¡¯ arse.¡±


    ¡°Oh,I will, as soon as I see them. But for now, let¡¯s talk goblins.¡± Apple remarked.


    Ger let out a small sigh and unfolded his arms,¡°¡¯iight, suppose we should best get it out the way. Come sit down, lad. The wife willfetch us some alewhile we chat.¡± Ger strode away and walked into his dining room just ten feet away. Apple followed suite and sat on the opposite side of where Ger placed himself,staring at him.


    ¡°So, lad. Tell me what went down in that cave.¡± Ger asked of him.


    It was Apple¡¯s turn to sigh this time,he could hear the not so distant sound of someone scuffing in the kitchen. He used the noise to distract himself for a moment, giving him time to collect his thoughts.


    Apple told the man everything, although some segments in greater detail than others. He spoke of their journey through the forest with Nick, being surrounded goblins, and escaping through unknown tunnels until they found their foes leader. Apple did however lie and say that he cauterised his wounds himself with a torch. Heonlyspokeverybrieflyaboutthe discovery of the women and Ger¡¯s fallen friend, bravely guarding the cave entrance from its own inhabitants. Ger just sat silently throughout the whole tale.


    After what felt like hours, Ger finally spoke. ¡°After your niece told us you had collapsed right outside our house, me, Gill, ¡®n¡¯ some of the lads went ¡®n¡¯ investigated the cave. There we found Nick likeyasaid, along with a pile of the green bastards. My boy ¡®n¡¯ a few others even went into the cave to have a gander. Gill said there were nearly an ¡®undredof the things, alldea,most of ¡®emburned. We ¡®ad no idea there were so many, it''s a good thing you showed up ¨C it is.¡± Ger paused, his face momentarily became softer, highlighting the haggard lines of age. ¡°They found the girls...Put ¡®emall to rest we did...One of ¡®emwas me girl, sweetlil¡¯Gywn.¡±


    Apple could hear the lump forming in the man¡¯s throat and said nothing. He had planned to ask if he had actually saved Gale¡¯s sister,unfortunatelyit would seem the question hadcome to him all too easily. He felt sorrow for the man in front of him,yetnot as much as he expected to. A small cauldron of annoyance burned his stomach. The people around here knew full well of their missing kin and the vile behaviour of goblins, yetbarelydidanything about it. All they did was merely wait until someone arrived to do what they should have done as soon as theyhadfirst laid eyes on the green curs.


    Apple simmered the emotions within himself andspoke,¡°I''msorry, Ger. The girl I carried back was the only one still alive when I arrived. How is she, by the way?¡±


    While Ger¡¯s expression was no longer one of deep sorrow, it still lurched from the evident sadness he felt. ¡°Tilda¡¯s her name.¡± He informed Apple. ¡°Her body will berecover. Her mind...Only time will tell.¡±


    Apple realised his hands weretremblingand ached from the pressure of an unintentional clench. He relaxed his fists, fearing that hewouldagitatethe painting ofscars and encourage his rage to grow. It never occurred to him while he carried that frail womenaway fromthe horrors thatthehorrors were still lurking in her mind.Although, now that Ger had told him of it, he wasnotsurprised at all. Apple believedthatfew wouldhavebeenable to resist the temptation to guard themselves from reality with the blissful ignorance of insanity.


    ¡°Will you see her?¡±Ger asked, while Apple hadlost himself in his thoughts.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Apple admitted. ¡°I doubt there¡¯s anything I could do to helpher.¡± While true, Apple failed to say that he was worriedwhat seeing the girl would do to hisownmental state.


    ¡°I understand, lad.You¡¯ve done enough already.¡±Ger stated warmly.


    Apple felt no desire to continue this conversation any longer. ¡°If you believe that, then our job here is done.It¡¯s time for Mula and I tohead off.¡±


    ¡°Shame. You sure I can¡¯t temptyato stay ¡®ere for a while. Giveyaa nice cosy life as the village guardian, we can make an appeal to our Lord?¡± Ger offered him.


    Apple was slightly shocked, he had notexpected such an offer. Perhaps months ago, he would have accepted the proposal,yetright now it failed to sway him. While the encounter with the goblins had aged him, Appleonlyfelt even more determined to seek adventure and become stronger.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°A tempting offer, Ger.However,I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll have to decline.¡±


    ¡°And do what?¡± A sudden sharp voiced asked. ¡°We¡¯re else will you two go?¡±


    Apple turned towards the shrill voice and saw Ger¡¯s wife, holding a traytwo wooden cups, full to the brim of the familiar watery ale. ¡°Well, I plan to head to the nearest city and acquire a living there.¡± Applemostlylied.


    ¡°A city? And do what there? What could you do there to provide a comfortable life foryou¡®n¡¯ your niece?¡±She challenged him.


    Apple furrowed his brows, he was notparticularly fond of being interrogated by this strange woman. ¡°I can read and write, and as your already aware I possess a formidable level of combatexperience. Even such a position as Captain of the city guard isn¡¯t impossible for me.¡± He replied, indulging in her questions for now.


    ¡°What of the road there? You said yourself that bandits managed totake your belongings on the way here. Why couldn¡¯t it happen again?¡±


    ¡°Why are you so inquisitiveof my life? I have saved your village for no reward other than the basic necessities of life. Do you fear for my niece? If so, speak plainly.¡± Apple informed the woman, as he was quickly losing his patience with her.


    ¡°Leave the lad,Kat.It seems he¡¯s made up ¡®is mind.¡± Ger said to his wife.


    ¡°Whyshould I? Did you see the state of his niece when she came back? Littered withso manycuts ¡®n¡¯ bruises, not to mention the amount offoulblood she was covered in. In all my years I¡¯ve never seen so much blood!¡± Kat protested.


    ¡°My niece is a fighter. She has killed more goblins than anyone one in your village. Yes, she was injured, but those are marks of a warrior, of pride.¡± Applebellowed with conviction, more to himself than anyone else.


    ¡°Pride?¡± She mimicked incredulously. ¡°You call the wounds on a child pride? You twisted man, you-¡°


    ¡°Shut up!¡± A young voice cried out.


    All went silent. All turned towards the once silent girl stoodat the table.


    ¡°Stop saying what best for Mula. Mula likes fightingand Mula follows Apple. Mula thinks this little place is boringanyway.¡± She spat at the womanso brashly.


    Kat blinked in surprise at Mula, while Ger gawked at her with a bewilderedexpression.


    Apple decided it would be best if he was the first to break the tension. ¡°It would seem things havebecome a little heated in here. I think it would be best if Mula and I left to gather our belongings andprepare for our journey.¡±


    ¡°¡¯Ight, lad. Please stay another night though. By the time you¡¯re ready to leave, it¡¯ll be night. I¡¯ll be out soon to giveyathe supplies you¡¯ve earned.¡±


    Apple stood up and nodded, he actually hoped Ger would make that offer, hetooknewit would take a while to gather everything. ¡°Thank you, Ger. We¡¯ll see you later.¡±


    Apple turned and left the house with Mula silently following suite.


    **********


    ¡°Hey Mula?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can I have that bronze sword you got off that goblinking, or whatever he was?¡± Apple pleaded to the little girl.


    ¡°But I found it, it¡¯s mine.¡± She argued, while she examined the new clothing Kat hadsilentlyleft her.


    ¡°Yeah, but you also found thatscramasaxtoo. That sword isn¡¯t even suited for you, it¡¯s toobroad. You¡¯re more of a stabber than a slasher.¡±He pouted.


    ¡°What¡¯s a scram-ass-sax?¡± She asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s that long dagger you took from Nick.¡±He informed her.


    ¡°Oh. But you also have staff to hit people with.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t rely just on my catalyst tohit peoplewith. I also really don¡¯t want to test the limits of its durability. Come on, I haven¡¯tused a sword in years.¡± He whined.


    Mula hummed to herself in thought. Her fingers stroking her chin as she squatted on the ground. ¡°Kay, Mulalet youborrow it ¨C for now.¡± She picked up the alloyed blade beside her and handed it to Apple.


    ¡°Thank you, Mula.¡± Apple beamed. He apprised the weapons balanced in his hands. The blade was the shape of a slender leaf,a little bit shorter thanApple¡¯s arm. The metal was nicked and bent in some placesbut nothing that couldnot be fixed by an adept. The stout wooden handle only provided enough room for one hand to grip it. Apple swung at the air, taking in its weight and sharpness.


    Once he finished duelling the calm evening wind,Applebound the bladetightly in cloth as he lacked a sheath, and placed it next to the rest of his belongings.


    ¡°So, what now?¡± Mula asked from behind him.


    Apple did notreply at first, instead he gazed out of the gaping hole of the barn. An almost clear sky the colour of ayoungmaiden¡¯s blush. The tip of a peeking sun signalled the eventual arrival of his silver-sister.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m getting some sleep.My body aches and I feel no desire to chat with ourbenefactors.¡± Apple finally responded.


    ¡°But Mula not sleepy.¡± She pouted.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t sleep.¡± Apple flatly told her. ¡°I¡¯m not your father, you¡¯re free to wander ¨C but not too farthough.¡± He immediately added at the end of his statement.


    Apple stood from where he sat and headed towards the soft mound of hay he had claimed when they first arrived at the barn and laid down.He ignoredthe feeling of Mula staring at him and quickly drifted off to sleep.


    **********


    Applestared at the waning moonfrom the steady grass hills ofa desolate hamlet. He turned to the side for a moment to spitout the phlegm that had been accumulating in his throat.


    He had been awake for what he guessed a little over an hour now. He had entered the world of dreams easily but what he found there did not treat him so kindly. Plumes of green ooze the shape of children tormented him with sharpened brambles and lassos made oftheir ownentrails. Unable to bearitanymore, his body freed him with a bath of cold sweatandthunderousheartbeat. With nodesire to attempt sleep any longer, Apple ventured out in search of somewhere to relax.


    Since Apple possessed little desire to explorethis drab hamlet, he took comfort in a lush slopeof grassnot one hundred feet from the barn.


    At first, all he had done in his time was look at the moon with unfocused eyes, his mind only barley thinking about warming his body, as the blanket draped over his naked shoulders provided little warmth. Eventually Apple remembered the promise he made to himself and Mula; he began to mediate. His mind¡¯s eye conjured a bowl, a small simpleclaybowl, full of translucent weaves of glowing white light. Once the visualisation was completely, Apple willed the bowl to expandever so slowly.


    Minutes would past and the bowl would only grow the merest sliverof an inch. With every single growth spurt, Apple wouldalsobeg the stars and moon to offer their energy to his bowl and become one with the rest of its contents.


    At least an hour had passed, yet Apple had only successfully expanded the bowl a quarter of an inch,even that much had caused his body to burn from the strain, knot the muscles in his stomach, and throb his brain horrifically.


    ¡°Sir...¡±


    Snappedout of his stationary trance, Applelurched to the side and gawked at the source of hissurprise.


    Standing before him was thedark silhouette of Gale. Her facebarely visible through the shadows of hermilk-colouredbonnet.It would seem that Apple¡¯s shock had too made her jump, as she jerked backwards and yelped.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you, Gale. Sorry I spooked you, I was a little lost in my thoughts.¡± Apple greetedher,his composer immediately returning now that he knew what he was dealing with.


    ¡°No-no, I should be the onesayin¡¯ sorry.I shouldn¡¯t ¡®avebeen so quietwalkin¡¯ towardsya.¡± She replied, a slight nervousness evident in her voice.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. What brings you out here anyway?¡±


    Gale looked down and began to twiddle her thumbs. ¡°I came to see you...¡± She stammered.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Apple replied,¡°why?¡±


    She played with her thumbs and refused to meet his gaze. ¡°I, I ¡®eardyou¡¯regoin¡¯ next day. So, I thought I should say farewell now. I doubt mother would let medo itthen.¡± She explained quietly.


    Apple chose his next words carefully. He had forgotten that he suspected the girl before him might be smitten with him. He wondered to himself how he wanted this conversation to lead. Shemostcertainlywas nota beauty,althoughin this moment he could barely see her features indue to thedarkness. She seemed a kind soul and Apple hadnotfeltawoman¡¯s touch in over a year.


    While still unsure on how to proceed, he couldnotremain silent any longer. ¡°I see. Thank you for seeing me, Gale. It means a lot that such a cute lass would take the time to do so.¡± He boldly declared.


    After a pause, Gale sat beside Apple in silence.


    Minutes pastand the pair just sat gazing at the night sky, simply enjoying each other¡¯s company.


    While Apple appeared calm and stoic on the outside, inside his heart pounded and his lungs begged for more air. He felt similar to the first time he had his first whore at the ripe agesixteen. Yet this was different. Back thenso long ashis sweaty, flabby hand awkwardly handed the woman her coin, shewouldwear her practiced smile and take charge of the situation, as if it was the best night of her life. Now, it was all up to him.


    Hetook a deep breathand looked at Gale. ¡°Do you like the moon?¡±He causally asked, trying to break the tension.


    She slowly turned her head towards him but was unable to completely match his gaze. ¡°Yes. Tis quite pretty.¡± She whispered.


    It felt as if Apple¡¯s heart from attempting to tear through his chest.A lump clogged his throat and he could feel his legs shake beyond his control. Only the repeated forced memories of the hardships hehad endured helped him calm down.With a silent sigh, he gently took hold of Gale¡¯s chin andpointed it at his own.


    His eyes, the colour of storm clouds,met the earth of her irises.


    At first the two just looked at each other. Apple smiled warmly and Gale eventually returned her own nervous grin. When Apple decided enough time had passed, with his callused fingers still wrapped around her chin, he pulledhertowards himself. Closer and closer, until their lips became one.


    As the experienced one and the instigator, Apple took charge of the kiss. Nothing but a fixed peck at first; gently the lips rolled and partedat his beckoning.Quickly they becamefiercer and fiercer,as their primal passion took hold of themboth.


    It was notlong until the two were entwined, sprawled on the long unkempt grass. Examining each other''s body¡¯s without sight; grasping and stroking at the unknown. Apple took hold of her back and heldhertightlywith his strong arms,massaging the muscles beneathher soft skinwith a growing knowledge. This was different than all the other times. In the past all hehad to dowas lie down and wait for his compatriot to ride him until completion. Now it was asif he was in the midst of a lesson, alesson in which he was both the teacher and the student.


    His new lean body of hardened fleshforged in the hardships of his travelsallowed him to move her as he pleased. Her legs were where he chooses them to be, her breasts where he always desired them to be,and his mouth beside her ear, a location he had no idea he enjoyed it being.


    ¡°You¡¯re so warm.¡± Gale admiredwith a gasp,her own passion began to match Apple¡¯s own.


    It was notlong until the pinnacle moment arrived,unable to wait no more, Apple tookhold of her smallcurvedframe and pinned it to the ground,his large hands pinning her hips.He yanked himself free of his trousers, uncaring whether he tore them or not. With a light stroke of her thighs as he parted them, they finallybecame one.


    Gale let out a pained gasp,Apple regained control of himself and slowed down.


    As time went on, Apple graduallyregained hispastprimalspeed. Using the sounds of her breaths and moans asevidence that she was ready for him to fully unleash himself.


    Fully immersed in the ecstasy, Apple gazed down at Gale as he loomed over her. Her eyes were closed as shehadcompletely lost herself in the act. As Apple was about to kiss her once more, a vision appeared in his mind. A flash. A glimpse of a vile humanoid the colour of dried bile, having its way with the husk of a human women.


    Apple shook the picture awayand carried on with the task at hand, but then it appeared again ¨C longer this time. More details blasted before him than before.Maggots and fliesblurred the scene.


    He tried to ignore the images, sadly theyrefused to halt their attack, over and over again they appeared, mocking him;tauntinghim.


    Apple¡¯s eyes dartedaroundin a wild flurry and he could feel rage and panic burn inside of him. It wasnotuntilhe heard the sound of a pained yelp that he remembered where he was and what he was doing.


    He threw himself of Gale and satnakedon the grass, his desires completely forgotten.


    Gale sat up panting with a warm smile onher face. Her pleased faceseemed to suggestthat she wasunaware of Apple¡¯s distraught and assumed he had finished. ¡°That was wonderful.¡± She breathed.


    Apple reluctantly looked at her naked self,¡°yeah. It was great...Sorry if I hurt you.¡± He said nonchalantly,buryinghis true feelingsdeep within himself.


    Gale began to redress herself. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I knew it would hurt a bit. But it mostly felt good.¡± She praised.


    Apple smiled slightly. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Forgive me for being rude,but I must be heading back to bed.¡±


    The displeasureon Gale¡¯s face waspainfullyobvious, even in thevastdarkness. ¡°Oh, okay. I¡¯ll try ¡®n¡¯ see you tomorrow.¡± With that, she stood and walked away,planting a quick kiss on Apple¡¯s cheek before she departed.


    Apple gathered his things and slowly made his way towards the barn. Unable to control himself, he punched the barn wall onhisway in, barely managing to contain the true magnitude of his strength. The old wooden wall bent under his knuckles, but Apple cared little for the property damage he caused. He was having so much fun and it was ruined by those accused goblins.


    With no other option, he collapsedback into his makeshift bed andonce againattempted sleep.


    ***********


    The day had finally arrived. After an audacious quest, followed by days of perilous sleep, it was time for Mula and Apple to leave thisquaintlittle hamlet.


    Apple was in the process ofdrapingashirt over skin, tunicover shirt, wool jumper over tunic, and finally cloak over jumper.He was gifted no cold-warding luxuries from the Gerfamily, so he made due with layer upon layer ofold patchwork clothing. He was at least thankful that his study leather boots had survived his journey so far.


    Apple lifted his travelsack over his shoulder, tied his bound bronze sword to his belt,arose his catalyst to its height, and waited for Mula to finisharming herself.


    She was dressed almost identical to himself, however instead of a tunic she wore a dingytandress, its skirt trimmed crudely to her knee length so she wouldnot trip on it. Both of her knives were hidden in the shadows of her cloak.


    ¡°You ready?¡± Apple asked her.


    Mula gave herself a quick look up and down, and hooded. ¡°Yup.¡±


    ¡°Terrific.¡± Apple beamed. ¡°Let¡¯s be on our way then.¡±With that said, the two left Ger¡¯s barn for the last time.


    ¡°Oi! Whereyathink you¡¯regoin¡¯?¡± A loud booming voicedemanded from behind them.


    Apple turned was met to the sight ofGer and his son Gill, standing on the very edge of their garden with folded arms and sour expressions. ¡°Oh, morning Ger.¡± Apple nonchalantly replied. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to wake you so we thought we¡¯d just be off.¡±


    ¡°You thinkyacan just walk on out of ¡®ere after whatyadid to my little girl?¡± The man snarled, one of his arms was unleashed and pointing threateningly at Apple.


    Apple gulped. He was hoping that Gale would have kept lastnight''sincidenta secret. Unfortunately, it would seem that wasn¡¯t the case. ¡°Last time?¡± Apple repeated innocently. ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m afraid I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Ger retorted, as he began stomping towards Apple,¡°the wife confirmed it this morning that my girlbed was stained red. The girl then admitted it ¡®erself, she did.¡±


    Apple¡¯s mind was a whirlpool of possible responses, none of which he could see helping him right now.¡°Did Gale tell you this?¡± Was the best he could think foran answer.


    Ger was now less than a foot away from Apple. ¡°Course she did, boy, just said that. Said you told ¡®eryougonnamarry ¡®er¡®n¡¯ stay ¡®ere ¨C she did.¡±


    Apple threw up his open hands in a sign of peace. Still he failed to find a suitable way to steer this conversation in his favour. ¡°Listen, Ger I...¡±


    ¡°No,you listen, boy.¡± Ger interrupted. ¡°You¡¯ve done a lot for my friends ¡®n¡¯ family, ¡®n¡¯ I¡¯m a nice bloke ¨C I am. So, you marry me girl to keep her ¡®onourin tack, ¡®n¡¯ me ¡®n¡¯ me boy won¡¯t beatyato death in front ofyaniece.¡± He threatened


    Apple suddenly stopped panicking. His frantic twitching and chaotic mind came to asuddenhalt. He found this situationstrange, awfully strange indeed. It did notmake sense to him that Ger was being so reasonable, he especially found Gill¡¯s behaviour strange. That grumpy tree-stump had done nothing during this whole fiasco. It didnotmake sense that the sod wasnotcurrently trying to beat him to death. None ofthismade sense.


    ¡°Sure, that sounds most reasonable.¡± Apple replied calmly. ¡°It would seem that the girl in question has come outto weigh in on the conversation.¡± Apple turned his head slightly to the left and stared hard at Ger¡¯s front door, with a smile.


    Following Apple¡¯s gaze, both Ger and Gill turned and looked behind them.


    ¡°Run Mula!¡±Apple cried, as he took off in a sprint in the opposite direction of Ger.


    ¡°Oi!¡± Ger roared. ¡°Get back ¡®ereyabastard!¡±The old man ordered


    Apple ran with all his might and was thankful to see thatMula was galloping closely beside him. In the corner of his eyes he could see Ger and Gill make chase.


    Apple moved faster than ever before, completely ignoring the protests of his injuries, fuelled by the desire to remain afreeman.


    The pursuit lasted longer than Applehadexpected. Fortunately, the two enraged men were never able to catch theforeverwandering Applenor thenimble Mula. After about half a mile Ger relented and collapsed in exhaustion. The younger Gill managed to keep up all the way until they found another dirt road about three miles out from the hamlet. Whether he gave up due to fatigue or lack of will to kill Apple, hedid notknow.


    It was notuntil at least another mile down the unknown road did the two finally come to a halt.


    ¡°Why did we run?¡± Mula asked in betweenher panting. Her hands on her hips to allow the air flow through easier.


    Apple tooka couple deep breaths before answering. ¡°Theytried to get me to marry their daughter.¡± Applewheezed.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because they wanted to keep me as their guard dog...Miserable bastard almost managed it too.¡± He grumbled


    The two didn¡¯t speak for a few minutes,focusing on regaining their breath.


    ¡°Did you fuck her?¡± Mula asked, once shebreathing had returned to a steadyrhythm.


    Apple¡¯s eyes bulged at the question. ¡°Blood abyss, Mula! Talk about crass.¡± He bellowed.


    ¡°Well, didyou?¡± She pressed.


    Apple took in a long deep breath,¡°maybe...¡± He whispered,whilehe played with a knot in his hair.


    Mula stared at Apple with narrowjudgementaleyes. ¡°Idiot.¡±


    ¡°In my defence, I¡¯m just a man.¡±Apple argued.


    ¡°How is that defence?¡±She huffed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know...Itmade more sense when I was younger.¡± Apple stammered. ¡°Anyway!¡± He yelled with a sudden enthusiasm. ¡°Let¡¯s go and find ourselves a city. Yeah! City!¡± He declared, throwing his fist in the air.


    Mula said nothing as the two began their march onthe dirt pathway they have found themselves on. Side by side together.Ready for more adventure.


    Apple turned to look at Mula,¡°in my defence, she...¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±

 Chapter 14: The Dance for Bronze

    Weeks passedin a blinkas the two companions marched towards civilisation.


    Fromsplit lanes of trees and shrubbery, to the vast emptymoorsdid they walk.


    Barely a rest throughout their journey, ignoring all signs of close-by hamlets,distant villages, or bustling boroughs. In their spare time Apple and Mula trained in the ways of battle. The pair would spar against one another with thick stickssoaked in water. When their weapons crumbled from the fatigue of their fights, they would use their bodies instead, punching, kicking, grappling, and even the threat of biting was wielded by the duo ¨C particularly the smaller of the two.


    Only when they finally collapsed from exhaustion would they begin to enhance their minds,orat least, Applewould feedMula¡¯s uncultured brain succulent morsels of knowledge. He would teach her the art of words, mathematics, and what scant history Apple knew of.


    With no booksto use a guides and Apple was loathed to part with scant few pieces of parchment hepossessed, Apple wasleftwith no choice to scrawl what little he knew into the very dirt beneath their feet.


    ¡°This is hard.¡± Mula would always huff partway through their lessons. Her complete lack of prior education made it difficult for her to comprehend things as rudimentary as single-digit addition,or evensimplewriting.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s hard, Mula.¡± Apple would always emphasise with her,¡°but it¡¯s important that you become educated.¡±


    Then, as always,she would simply reply with: ¡°Why?¡± Such a short question that Apple would always struggle to answer.


    ¡°Why?¡± The pattern of their conversation Apple wouldmimic. From then on Apple would have to come up with a new answer to appease her. The truth was that he lacked a great answer, or even an okay one and they both knew it. It wasnota requirement to live in this world knowing how to read, write, orevenremember its past.Most people knew none of these thingsand yet still thrived. A plebeian could live just a fulfilling life as their jewel-clad patrician cousins. Apple remembered when he was Mula¡¯s age and voiced the exact same protests as her, though his answers typically came in the form of a cane to the knuckles.


    Apple racked his brain for days trying to find an answer. Her willingness to participate in his lessons was dwindlingconstantlyas time trudged on. It wasnotuntil Apple finally succumbed to the word, he knew he would regret using in the future: ¡°Magic" that thingschanged.The word itselfwasalmost as powerful as what it entailed.


    ¡°A magician needs to learn how to read spells.¡± He wouldremindher. It was true of course, yet if they ever finally discover her gut void ofdwimmer, no amount of skills in linguisticsor reasoningwould allow her to conjure the elements. For now, however, Mula devoured her lesson¡¯s gladly and for that Apple was content.


    Though eventually even he too would grow tired of their studies, leading him to proceed with the next step in his training:Meditation. Or, more specifically magic-enhancing meditation. It was difficult at first, due to Mula using this time to practice her aim with her new slingas well. The sound of stones screaming at the wind and cracking against trees made Apple jump from his seat frequently.


    After the first week of Apple sitting cross-legged upon the ground, his eyes drawn in inside him, did he eventually notice that Mula had begunto mimichim. In the beginning he assumed the silence was to becomingaccustomedtothe sound of flying rocks but sadly that wasnotthe case. He reminded her constantly of her uncertain magical potential, yet the girl argued that if she was indeed magically gifted, it would be beneficial to practice as soon as possible. Since Apple could not think of a rebuttal to this, he begrudgingly shrugged and allowed her to continue beside him. He even eventually taught her basic breathing techniques and how lose yourself in the stillness of a trance, as they travelled further and further throughout unknown land.


    ***********


    ¡°Hailstranger!¡± Apple cried, with a wave of his arm.


    ¡°Hail!¡± A man in the distance replied.


    After what Apple believed to beeighteendays, thepairhad finally encountered another person on their travels. Quickly did the stranger approach them with the obvious sight of a horse pulling a wagon and the man sat at the front holding the animal¡¯s reins.


    ¡°What brings you out here with no horse nor goods?¡± The man asked atop hiswooden seat.


    ¡°Just simple travellers, we are. Tired of our lives in asquat little village,so we decided to start a new life in a city.¡± Apple politely lied to the man.


    Thestrangerexamined the two. His big bushymoustache wiggledas his mouth translated his feelings of what he saw. ¡°Thought you might be country folk, with the way you¡¯re dressed ¡®n¡¯all.¡± He mused. ¡°You¡¯re in luck though. The city of Kettle is only a few miles down the road we¡¯re currently standing on.¡±


    Apple could nothelp but beam a smile at this news. He knew of the city of Kettle but had never been there before. He remembered it being the closest city to Pier on maps ofLoncia, although it was still quite far away. It would seem they have walked further than he expected. ¡°Wonderful news, friend. If you don¡¯tmind, I wish for us to be off as soon as possible.¡±


    The strangernodded. ¡°I understand, lad. You two look life you¡¯ve been in the wilderness for a little too long. I won¡¯t keep you.Safe travels.¡± With his goodbye uttered, he whipped theleather reins in his hands and hishorse once again started to trotforward.


    ¡°And safe travels to you.¡± Apple wavedbackin farewell.


    With a reinforced enthusiasm to press forward, Apple and Mulachargedonward.The occasionaljoyousskip in their stepsas they walked, lunged themforthon the double.


    **********


    ¡°No guards standing outside the gate...A tad queer, not that I¡¯m complaining.¡± Apple said more to himself than the girl beside him.


    The pair had arrived shortly at the city of Kettle. Unlike the city of Pier, Kettle seemed to be only fortified by amerepalisade ¨C instead of apowerfulstone keep. Albeitthe wall was indeedimposing, made ofsmooth sharpened logs as tall as the tress they were made from, bound togetherside by sidein the earth.It being made of wood instead of stonewas most likely due to the sheer magnitude of effort and coin required to makethe rockwalls and unlike Pier, a valuable base of foreign trade and naval ships, Kettle lacked anything worth the endeavour beyond hosting asizeablechunkof the country¡¯s citizens.


    ¡°Is it normal for people to stand outsidea city?¡± Mula asked, as her eyes took in the vast curvatureof giant pikes that hid the lives behind them.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Apple replied. ¡°Typically,all cities have guards outside to make sure no one dubious enters their walls. Perhaps they¡¯re on break.¡±


    With no desire to wait around on the off chance someone doeseventuallyshow up to interrogate them, Apple passedthrough the open archwayand into the city of Kettle.The giant slab of timber used as the city¡¯s doorlaid invitingly against the inside of the palisade.


    Onceagain,the familiar sights of market stalls, bustling peasants, and the smell of human waste swarmed Apple¡¯s senses. ¡°Remember, Mula, our first priority here is to find a blacksmith.So,keep your eyes peeled.¡± He reminded her as they ventured further into the area.


    Apple threw back the hood of his cloak that he normally kept around his head and wore a friendly smile. It had only been about a month since Apple was around so many bustling lives, yet the amount of people, their noises, and smells were quicklyoverwhelming his sensesand giving aheadache. Apple forced himself to calm and to stop his hand from brushing against his sword so much. They planned to stay here as long as possible so he needed to once again assimilate into the mindset of acommoncity dweller.


    ¡°Mula hears the sound of a hammer close by.¡± She told him, tugging as his cloak to get his attention.


    ¡°Does it sound like it¡¯s hitting flesh or metal?¡± Apple inquired.


    ¡°Metal.¡± She replied affirmatively.


    ¡°Can¡¯thurt to have a look, lead on.¡±


    Mula nodded and took off ahead of Apple. Only a minute walk forward and a turn around the corner andApple could the sight of a stoutmanslamming a hammer repeatedly ontoan anvil in the distance. Apple was thankful thattheir shabby appearances made them invisible to the bellowing merchants around them.


    Sat upon a stool under a drab makeshift gazebo was a burly apron-wearing fellow, striking at a piece of metal with anunwavering tempo, asmall cobblestone forge hiccupped orange bubble behind him. To the man¡¯s left stood a largerack display, dangling a wide variety of weaponry.


    ¡°Hail!¡± Apple cried, competing against the loud clanging ofmetalon metal.


    The blacksmith neither stopped his work or even turned to look at Apple. However,he brought his free hand up in the air with the index finger pointing upwards, indicating that Apple needed to wait a moment.


    Content to oblige, Apple waited patiently. Occupying his time by examining the man¡¯s wares all the while. Mostly spears and axes but the occasional sword or maul could be seen in the crowd. Apple had no intention of buying another weapon, he instead used this time to appraise the blacksmith¡¯s craftsmanship. Nothing stood out as particularly impressive, especiallyalllacking in any sort of decoration, not that Apple cared about that sort of thinganymore. All were made of basic grey iron and looked strong enough, that was good enough for him.


    ¡°Sorry for the wait, ladand little lass. What can I do forya?¡±The blacksmith asked.Hewas nowstanding, his work apparently complete.


    Apple looked at the man. It would seem that being both muscular, bloated, and extremely hairy was a must in the world of metal working. Though at least this fellow did notlive up to the stereotype of being uncommonly tallas most blacksmiths did. Apple actually had to look down to meet his eyes, not that it made the man any less imposing. ¡°I have recently acquired a sword that¡¯s in need of some repairs ¨C oh, and a sheath for it as well.¡± Apple answered, immediately getting to the point.


    ¡°Alrighty, let¡¯s have alooksy¨C if it pleasesya.¡± The blacksmith replied, his arms stretched out ready to take the sword.


    ¡°Of course.¡± Apple unhooked the bound short sword at his hip and unwound it. Once it was completelybare,he handed to the man.


    With the trained eyes of an experienced metal worker, the blacksmithstared hard at even inch of the sword, tracing his fingersover where his eyes once were. ¡°Bronze aye. Don¡¯t see manythings made out of the stuff these days. The leaf shape of the blade isespecially old fashioned.Don¡¯t supposeyafeel like selling the thing?¡±


    Apple shook his head, he expected this question, he was well aware of the current rarity of copper-basedproducts.¡°Afraid not. I¡¯m quite fond of the thing, just some repairs will suffice.¡±


    ¡°Aye, can¡¯t blameyato be honest.¡± He nodded in return. ¡°The edge is as a blunt as a spoon plus a few nasty nicks here and there. The things pretty filthy as well, it smells like shit without me even needing to press my nostrils against it. I take it you found it somewhere?¡± The blacksmith nose twitched and lips curled in disdain at the scent the swordcarried.


    Apple hid his embarrassment towards the comment on the sword¡¯s smell. He knew it stunk but didrealise it was that bad.],he feared that he had become too accustomed to the rustic smells of nature. The all too familiar insecurity of his own scent raced his heart. He had washed Mula and himself every couple of days with a warm rain dripped from his catalyst,although wasbegrudgedto admit thatit was hardly a replacement for a hot rose petal bath. ¡°Yeah, found it in a goblin¡¯s lair a few weeks back. Haven¡¯t even used it yet because of the sorry state it¡¯s in.¡±


    The blacksmith¡¯s eyes perked up slightly. ¡°Goblin lair, aye. You and your little friendtheirmercenaries?¡±


    Apple shrugged andsmiled. ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Strange teamyamake. Aposh-soundingyoung man with a giant walking stick, and a little girlwithyelloweyes fiercer thananybeastI¡¯ve seen.¡±The man chuckled.


    Apple chuckled back, he had to admit that they werequite the odd duo.


    ¡°Anyway,getting the nicks out and the sharpening will costyaeightirons total.Yasaid sheathe and not scabbardso I¡¯mguessingyajust want somesimpleleather to cover the thing, that¡¯ll be three ironsand three woods. I¡¯ll clean it for free, since I won¡¯tsuffer the thingsstink while I work on it.¡±He informed Apple.


    This was the moment that Apple had be dreading.At this moment Apple only possessed a measly three iron coins andfour wooden ones. He hoped that his planned proposal would suffice. ¡°Sorry but I don¡¯t currently have that much money.¡±He grimaced.


    The blacksmith¡¯s face instantly slumped in annoyance. ¡°Then why the bloody abyssareyou here wasting my time?¡±


    ¡°Wait, I have a proposal. I¡¯ll get your moneyin three days I swear. If I don¡¯t, you can keep the sword. I need to leave it with you anyway.You and I both know it¡¯s worth a lot more than the money you¡¯re asking for.¡± Apple reasoned.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The blacksmith went quiet. The only sound he made was the ruffle of him scratching his thinning grey hair. ¡°Alright, lad. Three days. Even ifyashow up on the fourth withdoublethe coin, I¡¯m still keeping the sword.¡±


    Apple was notpleased aboutthisarrangementbut had little choice but to agree. ¡°Deal.¡± He stretched out his arm, ready to shake the man¡¯s hand.


    The blacksmith placed his large grisly hand in Apple¡¯s and shook. If he noticed thehideousburn scars on Apple¡¯s skin or the lack ofringfinger tip, he showed no signs he did.


    With their transaction completed, Apple bid the man farewelland took off back into the streets. Once they were no longer in earshot of the blacksmith, Mula turned to Appleand asked: ¡°How you going to make that much money in threedays?¡±


    Apple grinnedsheepishly,¡°don¡¯t you worry, I have a plan...¡±


    **********


    Apple spun his staff wildly. The weight of the iron, crystals,and copper that lived behind its wooden shell threatened to throw itself out of Apple¡¯s grasp as it gained momentum. Apple was thankful for the times he had grown bored on his travels; twirling his magical catalyst around like a child to occupy himself.


    After doing it for nearly an hour now, he had a practiced rhythm forming in his movements. Spin in front of his torso for ten seconds, then swing the staff behind his back, flip it in the air once, catch it with the other hand, and finally return it back to his front for more spinningall the while. Although, every so often he would try to improve his act by tossing his staff into the air and then catching it immediately. In fact, Apple had become so confident in his routine that he now kicked his legs one after another in the air joyouslytoenhancehisperformance.


    Yet thesprawledof piece of clothon the groundin front of him remained bare.


    Not a single person that had passed him by had rewarded him for the entertainment he provided. Most did noteven bother to turn their heads his way. The few that did would gawk at him as if he was some kind of exotic animal.


    ¡°Come on, ladies and gentleman. Watch asI enthral your minds with dazzling feats ofathleticism and grace.¡± Apple bellowed to all that walked by. Hewas nowboth tried anddesperate.


    ¡°Allyadoing is spinning a stick and kickingyalegs. Why the bloody abyss would I giveyasome of me coins for that?¡± A common looking chap asked, he had stopped walking and turned to face Apple.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that this is a lot harder than it looks.¡± Apple argued back, still performing his routine.


    The man audibly scoffed at that remark. ¡°My nan¡¯s titsit is! Anyone can spin a stick around. My little girl does it,yadon¡¯t see me forcing her to stand on streets begging for coin now doya?¡±


    ¡°You should.The extra coin will help by some soap or clothesthat don¡¯t look like they were made by a blindgoat.¡± Apple informed the man,with an exaggerate upturned noselooking down upon the chap.


    ¡°Says you! I can smellyafrom here, and that blanket you¡¯re wearing got more holes in it than a brothel.¡±


    ¡°Bold words from awho can¡¯t twirl a stick.¡± Apple retorted, twirling hiscatalyst faster, fuelled by the growing rage in hisbones.


    ¡°I can twirl a stick,yaarse!¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Prove it.¡±


    ¡°Iwill, give me your stick.¡±


    ¡°Bugger off! Get your own stick.¡±


    ¡°No.Gimmeyours.¡± The man demanded, approaching Applewith stretched out his arms and hands the shape of claws.


    ¡°Oi!¡± Apple cursed. As he tried to swat at the enrage peasant with his dancing legs.


    ¡°Stopkicking me,yawanker.Gimmethat damn stick!¡± He cursed, as he too began swatting at Apple¡¯s kickswith crab-likefingers.


    ¡°Get your damn own!¡±


    ¡°Make me.¡± The man challenged.


    ¡°Why the bloodyswamp-arsewielding milkmaidwould I make you do that?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get cheeky with me, mate. Just give meyastick.¡±


    Apple had finally lost his patience with the man and kicked him in the crotch. No longer did he flutter his legs in dance but instead darted the heel of his boot at the man with maliciousintent. As was expected, the stranger crumpledto the ground with a wheezing groan.WhilstApple stood over his defeatedopponentproudly, hosting a smug grin, did he finally look at his surroundings.


    Unbeknownst to him a crowd had formed while he had argued with the fellowthatnowgasping onthe floor, all staring at him with curiosity,disgust,and slight bemusement.


    ¡°Ladies and gentleman, thank you for your time but I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s theend of our show for today.¡± He nonchalantly told his audience. With that said, he turned away from the people and sprinted down the street.


    Apple ran for several minutes down various cobblestone lanes until he was almost certain the man, he kicked would notfind him. It wasnotthat he was afraid of the man, he just didnotwant to do something that might result in encountering the city guards.


    ¡°Well, that could have gone better.¡± Apple mumbled to himself.


    ¡°Mula agrees.¡±Said a voice from behind him.


    Apple turned around to see Mula, displaying a plethora of unreadable expressions on her face. ¡°Ah,Mula.I didn¡¯t see you in crowds.¡±


    ¡°I was hiding...You were embarrassing to look at.¡± She whispered with a downcast head,unable to meet his gaze.


    Apple could feel his cheeks warm and his mouth stretch into an uncomfortable expression. He did notfeelparticularlyproud of what had just transpired but now that Mula had expressed her feelings on the matter, he feltcompletehumiliation.


    ¡°Well...I¡¯ll admit it didn¡¯t work as well I thought it would.¡± Apple sighed. ¡°Didn¡¯t even get a single coin.¡±


    ¡°No, it worked.¡±Mula corrected. From the shadows of her cloak, she pulled outoverflowing handfuls of wooden coins, with the occasional sparkle of iron buriedin the piles.


    Apple¡¯s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets from the shock of what they were seeing. ¡°Mercy,wheredid you get all of those coins?¡± He gasped.


    Mula shrugged. ¡°Mula take them from people distracted by you.¡±


    Apple wasnot sure how to respond, on one hand he felt sheer joy at the sight of so many coins, however on the other he felt the weight of the law crushing him. Although unlike the past the weight failed to collapse the stoic position of his palm. Apple had battled with the idea of theft and as time went on it was getting harder and harder to remember why stealing from wrong to begin with.


    Apple took a wooden coin from Mula and brought it up to his eyes. A perfectly cut piece of wood polished with an immortallacquer. A decoration of rings protruded from the front, sointricatein designonly a master craftsman could create a forgery. Such simple circlesit displayedyet somehow complicated the more you stared at it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m going to say this;good work Mula.It would seem my idea wasn¡¯tsuch a complete failureafter all.How much did you get?¡±


    Mula crouched low to the ground and began to place the coins down one at a time.It was aa slow process and the clear signs of struggle crinkled Mula¡¯s face.


    ¡°Thirteen wood ones and three iron ones.¡± She eventually told him, after counting the coins twice to make sure.


    ¡°Good job, Mula.¡± Apple praised, ignoring the gnawing feeling in the back of his mind. ¡°Altogether we now have six irons and seventeen woods, or seven irons and seven woods.So,we only need four more irons and six more woods and we¡¯re good.¡±


    ¡°Mula could have figured that out.¡± She boasted with a puff of her chest.


    Apple chuckled. ¡°I¡¯msure you could. Now, it¡¯s getting pretty late so let¡¯s find somewhere to sleep for the night.¡±


    The two marched forth under theloom of the early winter shroud. To find an inn Apple was certain he could currently afford, he followed the trail of foul scents and scruffylooking drunkards that looked at him withquick shifty eyes.


    **********


    After about an hour of searching the two finally stumbled upon an inn that was both cheap and did notforetell a guaranteed sliceto thethroat in the night. A measly five wooden coins that Apple haggled to four was all that it took to rent one of the room¡¯s in Funky Frank¡¯s Tavern.


    The room was smaller than Apple¡¯s old clothing closest and smelled damper than any urine-soaked rag thrown into a still pond that Apple had come cross and he had seen two.


    The clientele was a gathering of thuggish clich¨¦s that were described in all the story books Apple had readgrowing up. The men either resembled chiselled boars or grisly ferrets in appearance. No one bothered to hide their small yet efficient weaponry as they conversed with one another,all thewhiletaking large gulps of theirflagons that contained more water thanale.


    The typical stares Apple and Mula experienced as they entered the premises was expected. Apple remembered what the blacksmith had said to him, as the patrons squeezed their deviousbeady eyesat him while he strode; ¡°Strange teamyamake.¡±Many echoed.


    Apple pouted atthestraw mat on the groundthat was supposed to substitutean actual bed.With nothing currently to do, hepropped his catalyst against thethin wall,took offhis cloak,and sat on top of it.


    ¡°You meditating?¡± Mula asked from the other sideofthe room, a whole five feet away.


    ¡°I was about to. I¡¯m not that hungry right now and don¡¯t feel like getting cosy with the locals.So,I¡¯m just going to kill an hour training.¡± Apple replied, as he began to slow and focus his breathing.


    ¡°There¡¯s a good chance someone will try to rob us ¨C Mula thinks.¡± Shestatedflatly.


    Apple cocked his left brow upin curiosity. ¡°What makes you so certain?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Mula can feel it. Mula bin to many placeslike this before.¡±


    Apple pondered on whether to press her about her past but quickly decided it was nottime yet. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if someone tries something. I just hope it¡¯s only one or two, any more and we¡¯ll make a scene.¡±


    ¡°We kill them?¡±


    Apple sighed and shook his head slightly. ¡°Not ifwecan helpit. I don¡¯t want to make a fuss and would like to avoid using magic. Plus beating a man to death withmy staff is a tiresome endeavour.¡±


    ¡°Kay, Mula willalso try to not kill them when they attack.¡± She agreed.


    ¡°Good girl. Now be quiet while I meditate.¡± He asked of her, as he closed his eyelids and started to visualise the bowl that held hisdwimmeronce more.


    **********


    Once Apple¡¯s body could no longer take the strain ofhaving its spirit slowly and painfully stretched, Apple arose from the floor andwashed the sweat off himself withwater.


    While he rubbed himself with a rag soaked inliquidof his own creation, Apple noticed Mula on the ground beside him, sat in the exact same pose he was just in. Starved from the fatigue of what he just did, Apple nudged Mula out of her trace so they could go get supper. He felt rude disturbing her, especially since he always complained when she did it to him, yet Apple refused to leave her alone in their room while he ate.


    ¡°Come on Mula, supper time.¡± He smiled


    A look of grogginess came and went in an instant over Mula. It would seem that she is becoming quite skilled in reaching a meditative state. ¡°Yay, Mula is starving.¡± Shesaid.


    Just as they were about to leave, Apple paused and looked at the staff in his hand. He could notbear toseparate himselffrom it,neverthelessheknew that taking it downstairs would draw some attention. He was no longer in full travel gear, his sack and cloak remained in the room. He thought of faking a limp to mask it as a walking stick but feared the tasty vulnerability it would invite.


    Eventually he decided to take it with him anyway, the staff was more valuable than everything he owned combined and was currently his only weapon. As he carried on his joining downstairs, Apple made a mental note to find a way to make his catalyst stand out less in the future.


    After paying a suspiciously low price of two wooden coins each, Apple and Mula sat at one of the empty tables in the tavern,and waited for their meal.


    The place was small and less crowded than when they had first arrived. Only four out of thetwelve tables were occupied. Apple did his best to avoid eye contact with everyone,prayingthat no one took interest in him or his young companion.


    Apple looked at Mula on the other side of the table. The more he looked, the more he was reminded of her exotic features and how they stand out in the crowds of pale skin and blunt teeth, like she waslike a lowlyknightsurrounded by Earls.


    It did nottake long for their food to arrive, which usuallywas nota good sign. A fat freckled woman Apple assumed was the owner¡¯s wifeor sister ¨C or bothplaced their servings ofporridgeand a lump ofryebread on the table. After a quick thank you, they tucked into their food.


    The porridge was burnt and bland, tasking as if it had been reheated several times overand stunk of something strange. The crust of the bread rivalled rock, the inside was the texture of sawdust. However, after weeks of nothing but old jerky, dried biscuits, or the rare black bird, overall the meal was satisfactory. Apple was sure that if he had eaten this a year ago, he would have vomited all of it back out in less time than it takes toreleasehis bowls.


    ¡°So, Mula, I¡¯ve been thinking,¡± Apple said now that they had finished eating. ¡°Let¡¯s do what we did todayagaintomorrow, except in a nicer part of town. If we¡¯re going to steal let¡¯s at least do it from people that can afford to lose a few coins.¡±


    ¡°Kay.¡± She replied causally. Her attention more focussed on wiping her finger on the remnants ofstickyoat-residuein her bowl and licking it.


    ¡°Good. Don¡¯t take too much either. And be careful to not get caught.¡±


    ¡°Stop worrying, Mula will be fine. Mula steal all the time.¡±


    ¡°That somehow doesn¡¯t make me feel any better.¡±Apple said quietly.


    **********


    A rattle at the door. The poor excuse for a lock shook to andfrounder the guidance of an unseen force. A slim strip of iron wedged againstthe wooden frame was the only thing keeping whomever wanted in out.


    ¡°How long have they been trying to get in for?¡± Apple asked in the darkness.


    ¡°¡¯Bout a minute.¡± Mula whispered back. Her keen senses alerted her to the waggling of their room door first, now her and Apple stood low in the corner of the room, wondering what to do.


    They had been asleep for several hoursbeforebeing disturbedand it would seem that the momentMula foretold had arrived.


    ¡°Alright here¡¯s the plan, let whomever lurks behind that door clang the lock at their leisure.However,if they do manage to get in, kill them.¡± Apple declared.


    The shroud of Mula¡¯s silhouette nodded and crept ever so softly towards thecorner of the doorhinges and waited.Apple stood directly in front of the door, if theintruder was tosucceed in intruding,Apple wanted his attention to be completely on himself.


    Itdid not takelong until the sound of the lock shaking ceased and the muffled sound of footstep drifted off into the distance.


    While Apple doubted someone would try to break in againtonight, the incident had jostled him and made sleep difficult. His heart still thumped and his body continued to twitch in anticipation. He told Mula to go back to sleep while he kept watch. Surprisingly she agreed immediately, perhaps due to her confidence in her hearing ability.


    So, for the rest of the night, Apple sat against the backwall staring at the door. His catalyst leaning against his shoulder, ready to beused at any moment.


    **********


    It was dawn now and the pair had once again taken to the streets. Apple fulfilled his guardian promise andrefused tosleep for a single wink after the door incident. He was sluggish at first but the early morning chill that howled through the city rejuvenated him tremendously.


    Apple was following his previous trail from yesterday out of the slums. His destination this time was a much more coin-filled district. Not the richest however, for harassingaristocratsandnobility was a guaranteed way of earning the city guard''s attention.


    After an hour walk, they eventually came across a merchant plaza, although instead ofdensely packed market stalls therewere study wooden buildingsreinforced with stone platingin neat rows.


    Apple found himself apopulated street and began his performance from yesterday. The wild spinning of his catalystand his dancing kicks caught the eyes of many that walked past.He even found humming a catchy tune while heperformed helped distract the good people even more.


    Every so often he would gaze around the street while he twirled to see if he could spot Mula. It was difficult at first but eventually he began to noticed the slightest flutter of fabric from behind the particularlywealthy-looking gawkers.


    In only two days, they had managed to acquire nine iron coins and eighty-six wooden coins, some of them even from donations towards Apple¡¯s performance. Even with their newfound wealth, they still stayed at Funky Frank¡¯s Tavern. Apple¡¯s desire to save money outweighed the risk of shieldingthepair with sucha brittle door ¨C for now.


    **********


    ¡°Well I¡¯ll be, you actually got the coin.¡± The blacksmith stated, his tone seemed to indicate he was not veryenthusiastabout the fact.


    ¡°Yup, here¡¯s yourtwelve ironsand three woods.¡± Apple replied, as he handed the man the coins with a smile.


    After a brief count of his newfound money, the blacksmith pocketed the coin, shuffled toa wooden draw to the side, retrievingasheathed sword with a familiar flat pommel.


    ¡°Here you are, lad.¡± He said, while he begrudgingly handed over theorange-colouredsword to Apple.


    ¡°Thank you, good sir.¡± Apple pulled the sword from its dull leather sheathe and inspected the blade. No nicks to be seen and the edges threatened to tear his skin of even the lightest touch. While itstill had notbeen polished, it was most certainly cleaner than it was when Apple found it.


    Apple tied the sheathe to his side andbid the blacksmith a final farewell.


    ¡°Now what?¡± Mula asked.


    ¡°You sure do ask that question a lot,¡± Apple mused. ¡°Well, step one is now complete, so it¡¯s on to step two in my master plan to become stronger.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s step two?¡±


    ¡°Why, we¡¯re going to rob an old manof course.¡±


    Mulasmirked.

 Side Story: The Idling of the Cunning Man

    The idle hand that clutched a twirl of freshly picked hawthorn rocked to and fro with the breeze of pace. The season of the mischievous fae was drawing near and it was the cunning man¡¯s duty to ward the venerable fauna of the woods from their celebrations.


    With every bead of sweat that dribbled from his tanned brow and with every ache he felt in his legs as each step went by, the small grin on his face would grow the tiniest bit tight in retaliation. He rubbed the airs on his arms against the sweat, as if the minute bristles were enough to be rid of them for good.


    He wondered, with the cunning his title insinuated that he possessed, about how many of his ilk would kill for their own sanctuary of acres and acres of tamed roots, leaves, berries, and the lackadaisical creatures that dwelled within. The cunning man was sure that many had already done so many of times. Perhaps he felt slightly ostracised from the battles, there were few predators or vagabonds to test his affinity of the earth elements upon in his home.


    While he was lost himself in thought as he wandered his land, the visage of a man presented itself. A hunched figure sat atop a mound of moss where once a log most probably laid. The sight of a tattered yellow surcoat made itself known as the cunning man drew closer through the bracken of his domain.


    The cunning man meditated on how long it had been since he met a creature that walked on two feet like himself; a year? A decade? Time mattered little when knowledge of the elements prolonged youth. The man was clearly dressed in the garb of war, the sigil of a lion could be made out on his surcoat, as well as the shine of armoured plate on his arms and legs.


    A sigh escaped his lips, his duty as one of the cunning folks prevented him from leaving the man be. ¡°You lost fella?¡± The cunning man asked.


    The lost man jumped, clearly, he was not expecting to meet another fellow in the forest. ¡°Who are you?¡± He challenged, his hand reaching for a sword at his side that was no longer there.


    ¡°Me? The name¡¯s Bryce, I think,¡± He replied. ¡°Or maybe it wa¡¯ Cliff...¡± He then questioned himself. ¡°Lysander sounds ¡®bout right as well... Canute? Eh, just call me Peter.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°Never met a bloke who has forgot his own name, though I have also never met a man that wears such a large pointy hat, or stinks so foul of herbs before.¡±


    Peter sniffed his armpits, ¡°It¡¯s a good hat isn¡¯t it?¡± He grinned. ¡°Didn¡¯t realise I stunk to be honest, though guess the animals wunt tell me would they, ¡®n¡¯ everyone knows elves lie anyway, the whimsical bastards. What¡¯s your name anyway stranger?¡±


    ¡°Edwin, Edwin the third.¡± He replied


    Peter walked forward and sat himself upon a comfortable-looking rock in front of Edwin, ¡°What brings you here, Edwin the third?¡±


    Edwin paused, ¡°Sorry but I would rather not talk about it.¡±


    ¡°Ah, one of those stories is it? I won¡¯t pry. You ¡®ungry?¡±


    ¡°Not particularly, why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Just wonderin¡¯, man in your condition don¡¯t typically fancy a bite, they don¡¯t, but me mam always told me to be polite ¨C probably.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry to intrude, Peter, but why are you here in this forest?¡±


    ¡°My-my, ya are a polite one isn¡¯t ya, especially for someone so young. It¡¯s a fair question to be honest. Ya believe in magic, Edwin?¡±


    ¡°Magic, the Devil¡¯s witchcraft?¡± Edwin gulped.


    ¡°Witchcraft?¡± He mimicked. ¡°Suppose that¡¯s a term for it. The Devil part however I might protest, never had any dealings with any devils and I¡¯ve bin doing this a long time, I think.¡±


    ¡°So, you are trying to tell me you are a wielder of magic, is that it?¡± The armoured man stammered.


    ¡°I suppose I am, Edwin, suppose I am. Got a problem with that?¡±


    ¡°I am not sure... Just a day ago I would have struck down from where you sat for associating with such obvious blasphemy, yet now I can¡¯t seem to bring myself to care all that much. Perhaps I am too tired to care.¡±


    ¡°Struck me down you would?¡± Peter smirked, ¡°curious how you would ¡®av done it without a sword. Thump me on the ¡®ead until my ears ¡®n¡¯ eyeballs start leaking aye?¡±


    Edwin chuckled, ¡°I suppose it would have been a tad awkward.¡±


    ¡°Aye it would... Got any family, Edwin?¡±


    ¡°Of course, why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Just wonderin¡¯, Brother? Sister?¡±


    ¡°No sister, just three brothers.¡±


    ¡°Nice brothers, treat you right?¡±


    ¡°Adequate would be the term I suppose, neither abusive nor particularly kind.¡±


    ¡°I guessin¡¯ you¡¯re the youngest?¡±


    ¡°You guess right, youngest by seven cycles.¡±


    ¡°Earl? Baron? Esquire?¡±


    ¡°Is it that obvious I am of nobility?¡± Edwin smiled thinly. ¡°Count actually, well my father is.¡±


    ¡°Lot to prove, fourth son of aEarl ¨C lot to prove.¡±


    ¡°I suppose so, though even the youngest son of a Earl can still obtain a good job and live luxurious life.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Aye, I suppose, did you?¡±


    ¡°Did I what?¡±


    ¡°Good job, luxurious life?¡±


    ¡°I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Suppose huh, supposed. Forced to fight were ya, kingdom in great peril, thousands dead? Don¡¯t know much of dealings outside these woods?¡±


    Edwin paused, ¡°Not particularly.¡±


    ¡°Lands raided by barbarians? Your people raped, slaughtered, sold into slavery, no choice but to defend them?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he grimaced, ¡°nothing like that.¡±


    ¡°Fields plagued by pestilence then, empty bellies galore. No choice but to expand your territory for resources? Can¡¯t have the workers ¡®n¡¯ the children dying, now can we?¡±


    ¡°No...¡±


    The shape of Peter¡¯s left brow moved up ever so slightly, "then what, Edwin, what was the catalyst for your glorious skirmish?¡±


    Edwin let out a small sigh, ¡°My father. He had a disagreement with a nearby baron, wanted to put him in his place.¡±


    ¡°I see, I see. Father forced you to fight for his honour did he, no choice in the matter?¡±


    Edwin looked down at the symbol of a proud lion¡¯s face on his attire, almost hidden beneath the stale mud and ichor of lesser men, ¡°I volunteered.¡±


    ¡°Volunteered,¡± Peter echoed.


    ¡°I told him that I would restore his honour, that I would be his champion in battle. Thought I would make him proud.¡±


    ¡°Did you?¡±


    Edwin snickered mockingly, ¡°I doubt it.¡±


    ¡°Why not, dint slay many of your dad¡¯s enemies? Dint rally your troops and lead the charge? Dint find ''n'' behead the rival general, parade his skull around like a trophy?¡±


    ¡°I led the charge; suppose I did. I made a long speech about valour, the glory of battle, and the holiness of our mission. I galloped towards the enemy before any of my men, first I was, with the tip of my sword pointed straight at the enemy. Looking back, I do not think my words nor my actions really had an effect on my men, basically I stroking my family¡¯s jewels looking back. Poor sods most likely wanted nothing to do with the affair.¡±


    ¡°Probably dint¡± Peter agreed, ¡°probably had a wife ¡®n¡¯ kids in their noggins the entire time. Though, awfully brave thing to do, not many men can charge a foe straight on, they don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I closed my eyes,¡± Edwin chuckled.


    ¡°Managed to at least kill a man dint ya, just one, for your dad?¡±


    Edwin gulped, any sign of a previous good humour disappeared so quick, even Peter doubted its existed ¡°Yes...¡±


    ¡°Plunged your finely crafted sword in ¡®im, a blade worth more than five of your father¡¯s soldiers. Watched the fellow choke on his own blood, like a sweet barrel of wine shaken and then popped open with a puncture to its side; leaking yet the inside somehow grows from the leaking? Watched while his eyes begged for life, felt the final break on your soft long fingers?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡±


    ¡°Scary business that, scary business. First time killing a man?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Not very pleasant is it.¡±


    ¡°No, it is not very pleasant at all.¡±


    ¡°Shocking experience too, especially when hundreds of people are doing the exact same thing around. The sounds; the smells; the tastes.¡± Edwin did not respond. ¡°Scary experience that, enough to make a man run from it, run from it all.¡±


    A long silence drew out in the forest air, almost suffocating the lost noble ¡°Yes,¡± Edwin finally replied.


    ¡°You ran.¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°Heard the sounds of your men dying grow more ¡®n¡¯ more distant.¡±


    Edwin only grunted in response.


    ¡°Ran ¡®til your legs could move no longer, yet ran still cause your mind demanded it.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Only stopped when ya ended up in a woods so thick with trees and plants nothing could ever possibly find you. Sat on the first thing you could find, dint even know if it was study or not for your encumbered rump; dint care.¡±


    Once again, Edwin failed to respond to Peter.


    ¡°Funny thing about fighting, makes some senses ever so sharp ¡®n¡¯ others duller than a sheep''s personality. Lotta folk don¡¯t notice if they stub their toe when in a glorious sprint, or the itching if they fall on a pile of fire-ants. Some folk, Edwin, don¡¯t even notice a broken limb, or a stab wound, not even a puncture to the side. They only feel war.¡±


    Another long hush hung in the air, only occasionally interrupted by the free winds and the random chirpings of birds. ¡°Any regrets?¡± Peter asked, breaking the silence.


    ¡°More than I can count I fear, far too many.¡± Edwin replied.


    ¡°Name one for me please, if you don¡¯t mind?¡±


    ¡°Alright, I suppose...¡± Edwin took in a deep breath and pursed his lips in thought, ¡°I wish I had not married the woman my father chose for me. I wish that maiden that sold breads in the market was not a simple bread maker. I wish that those rosy cheeks of hers would be mirrored on my own children¡¯s cheeks someday.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s funny how many people use the word wish when they talk of regrets.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Never noticed it myself. I do not suppose that magic of yours can grant wishes, Peter?¡±


    ¡°Depends on the wish, though yours seem to all be for the past, can¡¯t change the past I¡¯m afraid.


    Edwin smiled, ¡°Suppose that makes sense, it was too much to ask.¡±


    ¡°If you wanted to see a twig become a tree in a blink, or gaze upon a ball of dancing flames, or watch water fly as if it had decided to rival the sparrows in their haste, then I¡¯m your man.¡±


    ¡°No-no, that is quite alright thank you. A younger me would have tried to kill you for the demonstration, a much younger me would have jumped for joy at the show, now all I desire is to bask in the mundane for just a while longer.¡±


    ¡°Need a bit longer do we?¡±


    ¡°Please, I am not quite ready yet.¡±


    Peter returned the smile Edwin had been showing him, ¡°that¡¯s fine, I¡¯m in no rush.¡±


    A time passed with the two chatting about small things, mundane things. Edwin spoke of his childhood, the time he tried to impress a girl and fell off a pony, his relationship with his mother. Peter would also add to the conversation by telling Edwin about the wonders of magic and his forest, he even reminisced about his own past as best as he could. When they did not speak to one another, they would simply just enjoy the sounds and smells that nature brought them.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure, Edwin? There is still no rush¡±


    ¡°No-no, I should not delay it any longer, it will only make it more difficult.¡±


    Peter nodded, ¡°fair enough, anything you wanna say?¡±


    ¡°Suppose I do. Suppose there is so much to say I would never stop.¡±


    ¡°How about a nice tidy sentence for me then? Something an old croon could stitch into a pillow.¡±


    Edwin nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll try... Be true to yourself and always ask yourself why you are doing what you''re doing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Peter asked incredulously. ¡°I can see why your men weren¡¯t all that inspired by that heroic speech of yours.¡±


    ¡°Piss off you, poncy pellar!¡± Edwin yelled, although his eyes betrayed the false anger in his tone. Warm sleepy eyes that spoke of affection.


    Peter laughed, ¡°Was a bit rude of me wasn¡¯t it.¡±


    The two shared a brief joy together once more, a few seconds of reprieve before the conversation had to continue. ¡°What¡¯s next for me?¡± Edwin asked.


    ¡°Can¡¯t tell ya I¡¯m afraid. Just know that there¡¯s no such thing as a complete end, Edwin, no such thing there isn¡¯t.¡±


    Edwin smirked, ¡°Ominous aye, now you sound like a true wise-man.¡±


    ¡°Seems we¡¯re getting a bit cheeky, now aren¡¯t we?¡± Peter smirked.


    Edwin giggled, a loud child-like noise full of spit that told the world that he did not care about its manners no longer, ¡°Suppose I am. Too bad I didn¡¯t show my dad any cheek.¡±


    ¡°Aye, suppose we¡¯d not have met if you did.¡±


    ¡°Suppose so, not sure if that¡¯s a good thing or not.¡±


    ¡°Neither am I to be honest.¡±


    ¡°Farewell, Peter.¡± Edwin suddenly. He stretched his arm out in front of him, his elegant fingers held loose, ready for embrace.


    ¡°It was nice meeting ya, Edwin.¡± Peter clasped the hand in front of him and shook with the strength of an equal.


    In that moment the wind let out one only final howl as it whirled past the two, its strength great enough to bend the trees, yet never enough to break them.


    Then there was nothing.


    The cunning man gripped his knees tightly and pushed himself up from the rock he sat. The hawthorn held tightly in hand crumbled to the ground, long forgotten. He took one final fleeting glance at the moss-covered log in front of him and turned around on his heels. Once again, he ventured back towards the density of his domain. ¡°Such few visitors do I get in my home, it¡¯s a shame none of them can ever stay for supper,¡± the cunning man sighed.

 Chapter 15: The Happenstance of a Heist

    The price of information, a cost of both coin and risk. Jangle the lacquered coffers below the eager nostrils of the meagre and see if their spiteful tongue follows the rhythm. Beggars and urban brigands alike were susceptible to the melody of the clickity-clang. Their eyes and ears worth more than even a noble¡¯s, for their senses were not impeded by the sloth comfort of walls.


    Once the exchange of money had succeeded, next came the risk. Whatever the desperate whisperer would share forever marked their customer as a now wiser man. Should anyone ask that very same scruffy lout for information about the now wise man, he would happily share that knowledge too for a mere morsel of round iron.


    In the gaps of time Apple was not subjecting himself to the judgement of well-to-do commoners on his dancing abilities, he would trade a coin or two for the counsel from the all-seeing paupers that dwelled within Kettle¡¯s palisade. Always he would ask the same question: ¡°Do you know of any magicians in this city?¡±


    After having asked over a dozen of unkempt looking gentlemen of various ages and smells, Apple was now privy to the knowledge of the existence of seven magic-wielders hosted within the city of Kettle. Whilst an impressive number, only one stood out to him however. Not for their familiarity nor their fame but instead for their apparent mediocrity. Apple desired to steal the treasures of a magician and only one of them seemed to be a none suicidal choice.


    Lord Boris Maxwell. An ancient gentleman of lower nobility and apparently no magical or historical achievements to speak of. Whilst the Lord¡¯s lack of magical did indeed foretell a lower quality of arcane goods, whatever they were had to still be better than what the empty-handed Apple possessed. The common grimoire of an old mage must surely have acculturated an impressive number of spells over the century. Even if Lord Maxwell was such a drab magician as the rumours hinted; compared to the ungraduated Apple he was an expert on the art of magic-craft.


    Now that Apple once again felt his sword bump against his thigh while he walked and his injuries no longer screamed in protest at his existence, he was finally ready to begin his plot to burgle the senior magician. His days were spent staking out the Maxwell Estate, instead of continuing his growing busking career.


    ¡°So, you think you can get it unseen?¡± Apple asked, sat atop a straw pillow in his rented room at Funky Frank¡¯s Tavern.


    Mula pursed her lips together tightly in thought and stared idly at the ceiling, sat atop a pillow of her own, ¡°Mula doesn¡¯t know...¡± She admitted, ¡°never tried to break it to place so big and guarded before.¡±


    Apple crinkled his nose in discomfort and let out a light gasp while he stretched his arms. ¡°I thought so, to be honest. I suppose it wouldn¡¯t be fair to make you do all the work anyway. Besides, you don¡¯t even know what a grimoire is.¡±


    ¡°Mula does too!¡± She protested, ¡°Besides, your way sounds more fun anyhow.¡±


    Apple scratched his nose. He had also thought his plan was cunning in its sheer audacity, although at this moment he was doing his best to find an alternative, fun and being audacious rarely equalled efficiency or survivability.


    ¡°Very well, we¡¯ll do my plan. Making you look like a servant should be easy anyway. Getting a guard uniform for myself... Not so much.¡± Apple sighed. For now, however, Apple begrudgingly admitted he could not conjure up a better plan to acquire the Lord¡¯s grimoire.


    Apple¡¯s method of infiltration was simple, disguise themselves as the Lord¡¯s people and simply rob him from right under his wrinkly nose. In Apple¡¯s mind the plan seemed almost flawless in its sheer simplicity ¨C almost ¨C and that was what worried him. He had stalked Lord Maxwell¡¯s estate for three days now and was quite knowledgeable about the routine of the man¡¯s personal guard. He was even able to pick out their vermillion coloured gambesons out of any crowd ¨C no matter how large. The main problem was acquiring one of the uniforms for himself. He thought of disguising himself as a servant instead, but was loathed to give up his sword as keeping it would destroy the authenticity of the disguise, the mission already required him to forgo his precious catalyst for realism.


    ¡°What if Mula sneaks in and steals uniform for you?¡± She asked.


    ¡°No good, it would seem that the guards take their uniforms home with them. I¡¯m sure they keep spares somehow but it¡¯s not worth the risk searching.¡± Apple pouted.


    ¡°Then why not steal them from their houses?¡±


    Apple began to play with his hair, as he normally did when Mula pressed him with a barrage of questions. ¡°I want to involve as little people as possible in this. Breaking into some lowly grunt¡¯s home, possibly scaring his wife and children, getting him the sack, and making them all homeless, it doesn¡¯t sit well with me, Mula.¡±


    Mula pursed her lips tighter in concentration. ¡°How about we kidnap a guard and then steal their clothes then?¡±


    ¡°How is that any better?¡± Apple asked incredulously.


    ¡°If we tie them up first, it will show that they were attacked and didn¡¯t lose their clothes like an idiot.¡± She reasoned.


    ¡°Hmmm...¡± Apple hummed. ¡°That¡¯s some pretty childish reasoning, a tad disturbing too. Rendering a grown man mute, immobile, and still alive is no easy feat. We would also have to find somewhere to store him. Somewhere hidden ¨C but not too hidden. We want someone to find him eventually ¨C can¡¯t let the poor bastard starve.¡±


    Mula nodded her eagerly to the sound of Apple slowly accepting her plan. ¡°Yeah. We just need lots of rope.¡±


    ¡°And ale,¡± He interjected. ¡°A drunk man is a clumsy man, but how do when get him to drink?¡±


    ¡°Why make him? Men love drink. Follow him to pub and kidnap him when he leaves.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s actually not a bad idea.¡± Apple remarked, impressed with Mula¡¯s suggestion. ¡°All right, let¡¯s do it. We¡¯ll stalk one of the guards, pray he goes to a tavern, wait until he gets drunk and then steal his clothes.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°Yay! This sounds fun.¡± Mula cried, in their small inn room.


    ¡°Hush now.¡± Apple whispered. ¡°We just need some rope and a blanket.¡±


    ¡°Why a blanket?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re stealing a man¡¯s clothes, Mula. It¡¯s winter, poor sod will be freezing. The least we can do is chuck a blanket of his frosty nipples.¡±


    **********


    ¡°Mind if I join you?¡± Apple asked.


    A man sat atop a stool made of rough timber gulped the swig of ale in his mouth and looked Apple up and down, ¡°I don¡¯t owe ya any money now does I?¡±


    Apple chuckled and sat on a chair in front of the wary fellow, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Just a man looking for someone to share a drink with.¡±


    The man continued to squint at Apple but seemed to let his guard down just enough to take another sip from his flagon once more. ¡°Not many folk ¡®round ¡®ere just sit down with strangers for no reason, they don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not from around here.¡± Apple admitted. ¡°Haven¡¯t spoken to many folks lately due my travels and you look a little down in the dumps, thought you wouldn¡¯t mind a chat.¡±


    The man shrugged, ¡°suppose I could... Name¡¯s Mark.¡±


    ¡°Saxon.¡± Apple replied. He had heard someone cry out the name Saxon earlier in the merchant plaza and decided he liked the sound of it. He did not particularly feel like going through the motions of discussing how his new moniker: Apple was indeed a strange name ,with someone he planned to kidnap.


    ¡°Good name,¡± the man grunted in approval. ¡°So, what brings ya ¡®ere, Saxon?¡±


    ¡°Money of course, I¡¯m a merchant looking to sell some of my wares.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, what ya sell?¡±


    ¡°Oh, all sorts, fruit and berries mostly. Tricky business though, did you know fruit spoils ludicrously fast? Wish I did before I became a merchant.¡± He joked, although Apple did not disagree with the sentiment of the joke. What about you, Mark, you some kind of solider?¡± Apple asked, deliberately looking down at the man¡¯s attire.


    Mark sniffed in displeasure. ¡°Aye something like that. Though I now spend most days lookin¡¯ after some rich sod whose so old half of his brain has rotted, it has.¡±


    ¡°Bad boss huh. Had my fair share of them myself.¡± Apple grumbled truthfully, he considered his father and former headmaster a type of boss.


    ¡°Oh yeah? Your¡¯s ever spend half the day pissin¡¯ and shittin¡¯ themselves, and the other half rambling on and on about nonsense?¡±


    ¡°Hah, nothing that bad I¡¯ll admit. Sounds like you¡¯ve got yourself a real stinker. Mine were more of the yelling at you until you felt as strong as leprosy-stricken toddler with a serious smoking addiction.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you can get addicted to smoking?¡± He asked, sounding concerned.


    Apple was surprised he did not know, it was common knowledge among his peers. ¡°Oh yeah. It can kill ya real quick too.¡±


    Mark went quiet, his face a rock of intense thought. ¡°Eh,¡± he shrugged, ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡±


    Apple just shrugged back, it was not as if he cared about the man¡¯s health, especially whilst he was planning on getting him drunk ¡°Fair point.¡±


    ¡°Awful bit of description there you said earlier though, aye? About all that toddler shit. Feel bit shit now for just saying me boss is just shit.¡±


    Apple laughed, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about. You spend a few years in the merchant trade and you¡¯ll discover a while plethora of ways to call someone a cunt.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Sounds bit of a laugh when you describe it. Shame I can¡¯t read or write, or I¡¯d think of joining ya.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± Apple mimicked, ¡°Got any ideas what you¡¯d sell?¡±


    ¡°My wife, she makes the best chestnut cakes I¡¯ve ever had, and I¡¯ve had like seven. She puts honey in it, with this flour stuff but it''s not flour, but it looks like it...¡±


    Apple paused for a second, he most certainly was not expecting such an answer, especially for an increasingly intoxicated commoner. ¡°They sound lovely, though I am more partial to roasted chestnuts sprinkled with salt myself. You sound like a lucky man however to have a wife who can make you these cakes you love so dearly.¡±


    Mark looked down at the table and smiled, the faint pink of a blush could be seen across his face, whether it was due to the topic of his wife or simply the ale Apple did not know. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s great... It¡¯s a real shame I busted her lip this morning before work.¡±


    ¡°Welp, that¡¯s enough small talk for one night I reckon,¡± Applethought to himself. ¡°How about I buy you a drink, Mark?¡±


    Mark looked up, his smile growing wider and toothier with joy. ¡°I thought you¡¯d never ask.¡±


    **********


    ¡°So, I says to ¡®er, I says: I ain¡¯t doin¡¯ that for ya love, unless you put them butter churnin¡¯ hands of yours ¡®round my mighty milk stick.¡± Mark slurred with a jovial hoot.


    Apple howled with laughter and tightened his arm around Mark¡¯s shoulder as a gesture of friendship. The two were gallivanting in the street after a merry old time at the pub the two had just met in.


    ¡°So, she says to me... She says: you don¡¯t be gettin¡¯ none of that ¡®til...¡± Mark collapsed to the ground with a thud.


    ¡°That¡¯s the sixth bloody time he¡¯s told me that story.¡± Apple complained to himself, as he sheathed his sword after using its pommel to strike the back of Mark¡¯s head, rendering unconscious. ¡°Come on out, Mula.¡± He cried out into the darkness.


    ¡°That took forever. What took you so long?¡± She grumbled with a small spasm from the cold, while she silently approached from the shadows of an alleyway.


    ¡°We¡¯re in the slums, Mula. The drinks around here are more water and rat piss than fermented grain.¡± He grimaced, remembering that he had drunk his fair share of pints as well this night.


    ¡°Then why drink them?¡± She asked, as if talking to a simpleton.


    Apple sighed, ¡°I never realised how low my standards have reached until I just saw that judgemental look on your face. I used to drink such excellent wine... Warm, dark, and rich, with just the right amount of spices to warm the soul.¡± Apple looked down at his stomach, seeming the translucent illusion of his former round belly for the first time in months.


    ¡°Why are you rubbing your tummy?¡± Mula asked, with her head titled slightly to the side in confusion


    Apple regained himself, ¡°it doesn¡¯t matter. Let¡¯s just go and lock this poor sod in a shed around the corner and be on our way.¡±


    **********


    ¡°How do I look?¡± Apple asked.


    Mula gave him an appraising look; scanning his body up and down. ¡°Like a guard. Good idea to cut your hair off too.¡±


    Apple nodded in satisfaction. ¡°Terrific. It¡¯s a little tight around the arms, but it sure is nice to finally be wearing some actual armour. My heads bloody cold though, it will take some getting used to,¡± He said, stroking the harsh bristles upon his skull where his long copper hair used to live.


    Apple gazed down at the long grey surcoat fluttering on his body, the image of a faded poppy that marked him as one of Lord Maxwell¡¯s men, was fixed in the centre of the fabric, standing out in the monochrome scenery. As well as his new surcoart, Apple now wore a thick gambeson the colour of pale wine that clung tightly to his also pale skin.


    ¡°Now all we¡¯ve got to do is sneak into Maxwell¡¯s estate and the rest is history.¡±


    ¡°Mula thinks we should enter separately. Don¡¯t make sense for servant and guard to be together. I¡¯ll go first.¡± She said.


    ¡°Fair enough. Do you remember what I told you about how a grimoire typically looks, giant and leather-bound?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Mula already knew.¡± She huffed.


    Apple could help but smirk at her childish remark. ¡°Of course, of course, how silly of me. See you later. Be careful now, Mula.¡±


    Mula smirked back. ¡°You too. Don¡¯t feel like setting fire to you again.¡± With that final remark she darted in the shadows of the alleyways, leaving Apple behind in an abandoned shack with a tied-up man who moaned in confusion and fear at him.


    With everything ready, it at last time to get his hands only an actual spell book, and perhaps frighten a senile old man along the way.

 Chapter 16: The Rewards of Burglary

    Apple strode boldly towards Lord Maxwell¡¯s front gate. The familiar sight of dark wrought iron rods fused together greeted Apple. The thickest of the them formed the arc of the gate, whilst the leftovers were spread chaotically through its interior, in an attempt to stop folk from slipping through its gaps. If it were not for the stoic silhouettes of two guards standing in front of the flimsy excuse for protection, Apple was positive that even a drunkard could break through the gate in a few minutes. However, the guards were most certainly a problem for him. Apple immediately turned to his left and began to march nonchalantly around the estate walls.


    It had not occurred to him that the front gate would still be guarded so late at night, perhaps he was underestimating the value of this alleged mediocre magician. Perhaps he was underestimating the title of magician as a whole. He lamented over the fact that he was unable to experience the worth and prestige of a fully-fledged magical title, since he never graduated from the academy. Apple was at least thankful the elderly magician did not warrant the need for protective walls taller than a common barbarian¡¯s height.


    With a few awkward attempts and a couple heave-ho¡¯s, Apple managed to climb over the Lord Maxwell¡¯s protective walls.


    He landed softly in a row of well-maintained berry bushes and waited within them in case anyone had heard him intrude. After a few minutes of waiting, he was finally confident he was still undetected and strode confidently from the safety of the brambles. He hurriedly slapped his body all over in case any leaves or twigs that might have clung to him. Apple could not bear the thought of having to explain to Mula that he failed the mission because people were suspicious of his unconventional fashion accessories.


    His instincts assaulted him with pleads to carry on his mission in the sanctuary of the foliage whilst he walked. Even the moon-lit darkness appeared to beckon to towards him, wishing for him to find comfort in its solitary comfort. Apple shook his head fiercely as if the action would cause the thoughts to fall from his ears. He reminded himself over and over again that the whole point of stealing a guard uniform would be for naught, should he indulge his primal need to survive.


    Apple had only avoided the guards standing watch at the front gate earlier, for he did not want to attempt to explain to them why a fellow guard had started their shift at such a strange time. Should he meet another of the Lord¡¯s men now in the belly of his dominion, he would put the budding charm of his persona: Apple the sly merchant to good use.


    Retrieving the torch that was conveniently still strapped to guardsman Mark¡¯s belt, Apple lit the wood with a strike of flint and began to mimic the behaviour of a patrolling guard. He marched up and down the designated garden paths in a manner he remembered seeing his father¡¯s men doing in the past. Slowly and slowly he made his way to a door into the old magician¡¯s manor.


    With a few more practiced patrols before gaining enough confidence to believe he was sufficiently alone; ignoring the orange haze of a distant torch. With a calming breath Apple ventured through the door. Inside, under the light of his fire, Apple quickly realised he was in a small storeroom of various barrels and sacks of grain. With no reason to idle in such a mundane room, he pressed on to the next door ten feet in front of him.


    Apple placed his free-hand upon the harsh wood of the door and ever so cautiously applied as little pressure as possible to make it move. Every creak the door uttered whilst it was slowly opened caused Apple to wince excessively.


    From the narrow gap Apple was now privy to the sight of the manor¡¯s great hall, desolate and barren under the shroud of night. Taking in an exaggerated inhale of air, Apple walked into the empty great hall with the strong straight back of a guardsman.


    Apple approached the grand staircase situated at the end of the great hall with confidence. Although the night did blur the features of the manor, Apple could still nor help but compare it to his own. Apple did not know the true title of nobility bestowed upon Lord Maxwell, not that he particularly cared, yet if he had to guess it was doubtful higher than the position of knight. The old man¡¯s manor was obviously smaller than that of his fathers, its great hall barren compared to the decorative splendour of foreign antiquities that his mother collected. Even the staircase was narrower and lacked the comfort of a polished bannister to steady oneself like his father¡¯s.


    Amidst every leather-clad footstep echoing off the stone walls, Apple began to lose himself in the memories of his old home.


    His father was an Earl ¨C perhaps still was ¨C so the lack of grandeur Apple witnessed in this estate did not surprise him at all, as the gap of rank was large between the two. However, Apple did wonder if grandfather lived in a building similar to this one. The lineage of Apple¡¯s father had always been that of a count for generations so long in time, Apple never bothered to learn of its beginning. His mother on the other hand came from an incredibly juvenile nobility that was only brought into existence by war.


    Her father was a mere aspiring esquire at his birth. A man who quickly gained fame in a time before the popularising of the idea that magicians had to fight idly and stoically, to somehow prove themselves superior to those who fought with iron. Apple¡¯s grandfather: Drust, became a knight in just a couple of years due to his mastery of his famed war-pick, wielded in one hand whilst his other hand would cast flame upon swathes of his enemies. He would eventually go on to be known as Sir Drust the Lion, due to his large size and great mane of hair apparently redder than Apple¡¯s own. His fame and magical lineage were evidently great enough that even an Earl of Loncia would request his one and only daughter in marriage.


    Apple sighed, his ascent finally coming to an end now that he had reached the top of the stairs. He thought it was a great shame he never got to meet the man, for he had passed a few years before Apple was born, although he doubted his meek self would have got on with the man.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Asked a sudden voice from behind Apple.


    Apple jumped. He was so lost in thought that the sudden voice had startled him to such an extent that his body jolted into the air.


    Apple turned around hurriedly and tried to steady his breath. ¡°Who me?¡± He stammered, ¡°Sorry you startled me. I¡¯m on patrol just like you ¨C of course.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, then why haven¡¯t I seen you around before?¡± The guardsman challenged.


    ¡°This is my first shift, name¡¯s Saxon by the way.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit what your name is,¡± he spat. ¡°How come no one told me there was a new bloke starting?¡±


    Apple could tell, even in the hazy light of his torch, that the guardsman in front of him had refused to weaken his grip on his spear they he first spoke, in fact it seemed tenser. ¡°My hiring was a bit sudden ¨C it was. Mark recommended me.¡±


    ¡°Mark, aye? A recommendation from that pot of piss is like a cheap whore telling you she don¡¯t have no diseases; it don¡¯t mean shit.¡±


    Apple forced a laugh, ¡°Yeah, Mark¡¯s not the finest of chaps I¡¯ll admit, but we go back and I needed a new job.¡±


    The guardsman grunted in response and looked Apple up and down. ¡°Why the fuck does you have a sword?¡± He cursed. ¡°I¡¯ve been working here three years and old maggot brains has never given me anything other than this bleeding spear ¨C he hasn¡¯t.¡±


    Apple was unsure on how to respond. He knew that swords were whilst no longer rare were still uncommon, with only the wealthy, accomplished, or thieves typically owning them. Still, he had no idea the fact that he possessed one would anger a man to this degree. ¡°I wasn¡¯t given this sword,¡± he eventually said. ¡°I found it on my travels many moons ago I did.¡±


    ¡°So, you stole it, is that right?¡±


    ¡°No, I found it, honest word.¡± Apple grimanced.


    ¡°Bullshit! Give it me, thief.¡± The guardsman commended with an open palm and gritted teeth.


    Apple was stunned. The man now seemed to believe he indeed a fellow guard, yet still wished to rob him, ¡°well, if he wants it so badly...¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Apple faked a growing fear in his eyes and began to stutter, ¡°fine, just take my sword and just leave me be.¡±


    The guardsman appeared all too pleased with Apple¡¯s compliance and cowardice. ¡°That¡¯s a good welp. Now hurry up and hand it over.¡±


    Apple did as he was ordered and slowly unsheathed his blade.


    He held it submissively, with one open palm below the handle and the other below the flat of the blade.


    ¡°Bronze,¡± the guardsman purred. He shuffled forward hungrily with his freehand edging closer to his new weapon.


    As soon as he was close enough to satisfy Apple; his hand almost about to grip the sword¡¯s shaft, Apple¡¯s fingers coiled around it instead. His other hand pinched the blade as tightly as possible and shoved its horizontal edge into the guardsman¡¯s exposed throat.


    His eyes bulged grotesquely whilst the force of the sword crushed and severed the protrusion of his masculine throat. He staggered backwards, clutching tightly at his neck as the last dregs of air were devoured within his lungs. Not one to make someone suffer unnecessarily, Apple gripped the handle of his short sword correctly and plunged it into the man¡¯s heart.


    Life left him in a blink, his body collapsing to the floor ungraciously, his hands still wrapped tightly around his throat.


    ¡°Look at me, I¡¯m a big scary guard that bullies newbies because I barely make any money and have a small cock, that my wife makes fun of me for...¡± Apple mocked in a whisper, whilst he wiped the blood off his sword with the fallen guard¡¯s surcoat.


    Apple cursed himself once the beating of his heart slowed. He never planned to kill someone on this mission and yet had immediately done so to the first person he met. Although, he did struggle to find remorse for killing the man. He had been bullied just far too often in his past, and had experienced things justt far more dangerous than this guard to just allow him to walk all over him.


    With a mighty self-pitying sigh, Apple spent a good ten minutes dragging the corpse around in search of a hiding spot for it. He eventually stumbled across a multitude of giant potted plants and hid the body behind them. It was a poor hiding spot and was most certainly going to be discovered, nevertheless all Apple required was for it to remain hidden just long enough until he and Mula had left the city of Kettle.


    Putting the murder, he had just committed to the back of his mind, Apple ventured forth in search of the Lord¡¯s bedchamber.


    It did not take long to find the room at all, for Apple was well versed in the architecture and layouts of a typical Loncia-style manor.


    Apple opened this door in the very same manner he had done so with the storeroom¡¯s door, still cringing at the creakiness of the act once more.


    Apple was surprised to discover the room inside was already well lit, with a relaxed fire sitting at the bedside of the old magician. Apple tiptoed cautiously towards the large bed and was met with the sight of a small skeletal looking man peeking out of the blanket. His frail body shivered mercilessly even whilst the fire burned beside him. It would appear the rumours of ancientness were indeed were not exaggerated.


    ¡°Who goes there?¡± The old magician squawked. His eyes darted wide open, yet the pupils remained idle under the blurry grey clouds of time.


    Apple froze in place, waiting although he was not sure what for.


    ¡°I know you are there. I may be blind but I am not deaf, yet.¡± He wheezed.


    ¡°Just, just coming to put more logs on the fire, my Lord.¡± Apple explained.


    ¡°You are not one of my men, who are you?¡±


    Apple stood completely still, as it doing so would make him invisible to the blind magician. ¡°I¡¯m new my Lord. Another guard of yours...¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up!¡± He barked with raspiness of a throat clogged with phlegm. ¡°You are the fourth person to break into my bedchamber this past month. My guards are bloody useless. I¡¯d hang them all if I could bring myself to care. So, what you after; gold; jewels?¡±


    ¡°Your spell book.¡± Apple answered honestly, he saw little reason to attempt to lie to this man.


    ¡°Ah, magic you are after. I believe a fellow came in here in a moon ago looking for my wand. I told him over and over that owning a wand does not suddenly make you a magician. The bastard seemed unconvinced, slapped me across the cheek in protest and left. I do wonder where my wand is right now, he probably sold it when a severer lack of elements came out of it.¡±


    ¡°You seem to be handling it well though, did you not tell your guards about these break ins?¡± Apple asked, curious.


    The old magician laughed, until it transformed into a harsh cough. ¡°I told them about the first one, but they think me mad so I stopped bothering. I do not blame them to be honest, in a blink I could be babbling in tongues, whilst my bowels paint my bedsheets, forgetting this conversation ever happened until the next brief moment I regain clarity. Ah, the wonders of growing old.¡±


    ¡°Well, that certainly sounds a bit shit,¡± Apple admitted. ¡°Although I am begrudged to admit I still intend on stealing from you.¡±


    Lord Maxwell puckered his lips together and exhaled air, Apple assumed he was attempting to whistle. ¡°Check out the stones on you. What did you say you were after again, my spell book?¡±


    ¡°Aye. If you remember where it is, I¡¯d be much obliged.¡±


    ¡°See that chest of drawers next to the window? Left side, third drawer.¡±


    Apple nodded, ¡°thank you.¡± He hurried over to the drawers and began searching under the light of the Lord¡¯s crackling fire.


    ¡°Tell me, burglar, can you even read? Why do you want my grimoire? Surely you are not dwimmer-blessed?¡±


    Apple barely heard the man¡¯s hoarse voice over the sound of him frantically pulling open the large oak drawers. ¡°I might be.¡± He mumbled.


    ¡°If you are you must be a pathetic excuse for a magician to be stealing from my mediocre arse.¡±


    Apple winced, ¡°you¡¯re not wrong. Didn¡¯t really pay attention at school and dropped out, might have been a bit of a hasty descision looking back on it.¡±


    ¡°Dropped out? That kind of behaviour will get you disowned. Is that why you¡¯re robbing me, family cast you out?¡±


    ¡°Something like that...¡± Apple began searching for the spell book louder and with more force than before.


    ¡°Surprisingly common accent for a magician, the blatant smell of the slums is also queer for a dwimmer-blessed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of hard to maintain the way you speak when everyone calls you a posh-cunt and then proceeds to rob you because of it. Funny though, cause most surfs still call me a posh-git. The smell however is a personal choice.¡±


    ¡°You are a cheeky one. I would strike you for your insolence if I had to strength to lift my arm.¡±


    ¡°I could hit myself with it if you want? See what¡¯s tougher, your dusty bones or your men¡¯s armour.¡±


    ¡°My-my, the youth of today. So, what element are you?¡±


    ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Just curious. Wont you indulge a dying old man?¡±


    Apple sighed, he still could not find the grimoire. ¡°Water, you?¡±


    Maxwell laughed ¡°Hah! Back in the day we used to call your ilk wet-boys, on the account that all most of you can do is get your opponent soggy. I am blessed by the wind elements myself.¡± He boasted.


    ¡°Magic must have been a bit more primitive in your day then. I¡¯ve seen fellows at the academy cut through iron blocks with nothing but thin streams of water, and don¡¯t even get me started on ice.¡±


    ¡°Awfully defensive now are we not? If I was to teach you a few spells however you would learn saw much more of what liquid is capable of.¡±


    Apple stood up and turned to look at the man, ¡°I¡¯m bloody trying to learn! You said the spell book was in the third drawer to the left. I¡¯ve searched that drawer a hundred times and every other and still can¡¯t find it.¡± Apple bellowed, becoming weary of his conversation with the decrepit magician.


    ¡°Spell book? Why, I no longer have it.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Apple barely whispered.


    ¡°No longer have it, a friendly little girl came in here earlier and placed a knife to my throat, ordering me to tell her where my grimoire is. I tell you, the youth of today, no manners.¡±


    Apple slapped his scarred hand across his face, dragging it down and pulling his skin along with it. ¡°Mula... Why didn¡¯t you tell me this earlier, old man?¡±


    ¡°You try to steal from me and don¡¯t even threaten me, why the bloody abyss should I help you. Besides, I have little entertainment these days.¡± Apple could feel him smiling smugly behind him.


    Apple stormed towards the man and gripped him by his loose tunic. His foggy eyes stared unblinking at Apple, yet it was clear they failed to register his image.


    ¡°It is a bit late now, smelly magician.¡± Maxwell smirked.


    Looking at the frail being held in front of himself, Apple lost all of his rage and instead felt the replacement of shame. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he admitted. ¡°Not for trying to steal from you, I¡¯d still do it. I desperately need that spell book, without it I''m a dead man. I am sorry for grabbing you however, I shouldn''t have done it. I lost my temper.¡±


    Maxwell¡¯s cracked smile grew wider, ¡°Finally! Some manners,¡± he coughed. ¡°If you are feeling embarrassed about breaking into my manner empty handed, feel free to take that bottle off the table beside you.¡±


    Apple turned and did indeed see a small glass bottle, full to the brim of green-coloured liquid. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Some kind of elixir. Supposed to make the body stronger. I sent a request for the stuff months ago to a renowned alchemist and it had only just arrived yesterday, I think. Take it, my desire to cling to life left me a long time ago and I¡¯m too far gone now anyway for it to change anything.¡±


    Slowly, Apple picked up the bottle, ¡°are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t patronise me, lad. Take it and leave. It has been fun but I¡¯m tired, leave me be.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not poison is it?¡±


    Maxwell cackled, ¡°Oh yes, the good old convince your burglar to drink poison technique, never fails. I swear, the youth of today...¡±


    Apple was not sure how to respond, an awkward thank you and a slight bow was all that he could muster, but the elderly magician had already fell into the land of dreams to notice.


    "So long, dead man."


    He left Lord Maxwell¡¯s manor the very same way he came, pretending the mass of potted plants did not exist whilst he walked past them.


    He had not acquired a spell book as he had hoped, but at least possessed some strange potion for his efforts. He took solace in the fact that Mula had the grimoire at least, he just now needed to find her. Once he arrived back at Funk Frank¡¯s Tavern, he wanted to find out how Mula had beaten him to the book, he considered his time to get to the bedchamber to be rather impressive.


    Once more Apple climbed over Maxwell¡¯s poor excuse for a wall, his hands burning from the winter stone while he did so.


    With his mission now somewhat complete, Apple ventured back towards the slums. In one hand was a new beverage of dubious vitality, whilst his other stroked the bristles on his head, missing the warmth his auburn hair used to provide

 Chapter 17: The Acquisition of Magic

    ¡°Good to see you again, little lady.¡± Apple wheezed through exhausted breaths. He had run to Funky Frank¡¯s Tavern without pause, his desire to see Maxwell¡¯s book and be free of the cold spurred his haste.


    Mula looked up; her attention completely focused on the leather-bound book sat in her lap. ¡°What took you so long?¡± She huffed.


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know...¡± Apple shrugged, whilst removing his damp surcoat. ¡°Sneaked into a manor, pretended to be a guard; may or may not have killed a bloke; walked into an old man¡¯s bedroom; had a nice chat; he eventually told me his spell book had been stolen earlier by a little girl. So yeah...¡±


    ¡°You never said you had to be one to find it first,¡± she argued. ¡°I found it first. Mula fast, Apple slow ¨C simple.¡±


    Apple sighed, sitting down on the pillow next to Mula with a thud, embracing the poor comfort of straw on his behind. ¡°You could have at least waited for me.¡±


    ¡°Where? Manor is big y¡¯know. Waiting in the inn made most sense.¡±


    Apple could not argue with that, no matter how much it made his role in the heist completely pointless. ¡°Alright, fair enough. So, having fun reading, are we?¡±


    Mula pouted with inflated cheeks and pursed lips. ¡°No, it¡¯s hard. Harder than Apple¡¯s writing. He uses bigger words than you.¡±


    Apple coughed at that comment, ¡°well, that¡¯s because I use smaller words for you, so you understand.¡±


    Mula just grunted in acknowledgement, her eyes and attention once again completely focused on the book on her lap.


    ¡°I can read it to you, if you want?¡±


    Mula was quiet for several minutes, seemingly debating whether to admit defeat or not. ¡°Fine,¡± she eventually said.


    Apple smiled and carefully picked the grimoire up. He traced his calloused fingers around the softness of the leather cover, and breathed in the smell of old parchment. A smell he once loathed and now found himself enjoying fondly, with the soothing feel of nostalgia.


    He skimmed the cursive handwriting of the author, before finally reading it out loud for Mula.


    For a magician their grimoire is without a doubt their greatest and most valuable possession. More beautiful than their shining silk robes. More powerful than their jewel-encrusted wand. Even more precious than their very family! Yet, here at I sit, at the ripe age of seventy-six and even without the dullness of time upon my mind, my shaking hands fail to note anything of worth.


    A long life I have lived. My wife gone twelve summers ago and my children have either failed to visit me, or have simply perished somewhere in the vast space of the world, most likely a mixture of the two. My magic, the ability to alter the world itself ¨C something I used to believe made me superior to most, has been little more than a parlour trick used to instil fear in those beneath me, and to amuse those above me.


    Seventy-six years and not a single crumb of information I can add to the magical archive of Loncia. No spells. No applications of practice or theories. Nothing but the reprints and plagiarisms of those that achieved what I could not.


    So, here it is... My grimoire. My seventh and final edition. Few things have changed I am afraid. My handwriting is now janky and painful, my laments larger and touched with an unapologetic level of loathing.


    There shall be no philosophical debates or revolutionary information about magic or dwimmer within the tome. Instead the civil dispute of the plagiarising other¡¯s book this edition foretells, alongside my own melodramatic writings shall be scrawled on these pages as well.


    I had originally planned to write this for any grandchildren of mine that should happen upon the dwimmer like myself. However, the chances of any grandchildren stumbling their way into my abode appears to be quite doubtful these days. I do hope my children will forgive me one day for my behaviour towards them in the past. I was so desperate for a magical sire ¨C someone to do what I could only dream about, and when none showed promise, I dismissed them! Just as my father had done so to my brothers and sisters.


    Now, I simply wish to leave my mark as a magician upon this world, no matter how insignificant it may be...


    Apple was not expecting an autobiography of the author¡¯s life in this grimoire. Although, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. A grimoire was not just a spell books, but also something extremely personal to its creator. Magic was not just about spells either, philosophy, anecdotes, and stories of those who studied it were also important to the application of magic.


    Whilst Apple would definitely read this book in its entirety many times in the future, for now he wished to simply see the more magical topics and skipped ahead.


    At the age of nine, my father in his desperation approached his greater Baron of the county we lorded a small portion over, wielding sums of his dwindling gold ¨C a time in which the material was in abundance. There he pleaded with the Lord for his court magician to test his children for geist (now known commonly as dwimmer). Seven sons and six of them wasted his coin and the time of his betters, yet I did not fail him. His eldest and therefore successor even betrayed the man with his lack of mystical lineage. Something I would never allow my older brother to forget.


    At the age of seven it was known of my capability to alter and create nature with unclear means; an act and concept typically referred to as magic. The pitiful squire my father was, once he knew of my blessing, my siblings were long forgotten from his mind. His four daughters not even worthy of being tested; many fools still refuse to admit the dwimmer does not discriminate between the sexes. Even the belief of a noble''s superior bloodline beguiles themselves, with the hidden privilege of being able to choose the superiority of their sire¡¯s blood. I am begrudged to admit that I ¨C even in my old age, like my dwimmer-blessed brethren, looked down upon those without magic with a smugness that rivalled a tower that pierced the heavens themselves.


    I set fire to the peasant''s livestock with glee. I tore their precious barley from the dirt with a wave of my wand and waggle of my tongue, laughing at the prospect of empty bellies. Forced they were to ignore my attempts to stir the winds and form a typhoon. Their faithful pets choked on tendrils of water shoved down their throats, given to them in my lackadaisical boredom... And why did I do it? Because I could, of course!


    I was both a noble and a future magician, my life was worth more than a Baron¡¯s or even a Marquis! More than my entire siblings combined! Such a fool I was to believe such a thing.


    My mother ¨C a mousey little woman, could not even look me in the eyes by the age of ten, her own flesh and blood! But not my father; never my father... For in me he saw our family¡¯s future. So, what if his precious surfs go hungry? So, what if his other children beg and plead to be rid of me because I test my new magics upon them? So, what if everyone he knows refuses to be his company any more, due to his wonderous fifth-born son? So, what?


    All these thoughts and more filled my mind every second of every day, whilst I played gleefully in my father¡¯s modest manor. Every single life there was a toy waiting for me to play with.


    At the tender age of fifteen my father sent me to the first grand university of magic and philosophy in Loncia. There for the first time since the age of seven did the feeling of being a complete and utter nobody come flooding back to me. There I was surrounded by those vastly grander then myself ¨C my joyous days as a demi-god had come to an end. I was now a just another toy in other children¡¯s toyboxes.


    Apple paused. He was surprised to discover he enjoyed the writer¡¯s biography and was impressed with how honest he was with admitting his own failings. However, he was beginning to find Lord Maxwell just a bit too relatable and when the topic of mediocrity around his magic peers came to be. Apple could not bear to read further for the unwelcome memories it brought him. A fouler nostalgia was creeping its way into his mind.


    He decided to skip ahead, Mula did not seem to mind, she was most likely eager to hear more about magic, than the magician¡¯s story.


    Principles of Magic ¨C I


    Many great scholars of Loncia will tell you that magic was both birthed and developed upon this very island of ours, the island we now refer to as Loncia. However, that could not be further from the truth! Before patriotism became nationalism, in my days as a sprout of a mage, we were taught with an impressive neutrality that the first evidence of dwimmer-magic originated in the faraway empire of Goar. Whilst it is commonly believed for beings such as elves and fae to have possessed magic before the findings of man-magic, I never bothered to study such theories. So, if you are looking for such knowledge, I am afraid you will have to go somewhere else.


    ¡°Those bastard teachers lied to me...¡± Apple grumbled.


    Omri El Haddad, at the time of my education, was considered to be one of the most influential people to understanding the principles of magic. Omri was a great lahash (magician) of his era and would create the text: "The Four Forms of Ob¡±, a work of wisdom still used today. Its explanations on the importance of a strong foundation in magic still unmatched in this era.


    In in his writings, Omri states that the physical world is comprised of four basic elements: earth, wind, water, and fire. This information even in his time was not revolutionary, however, it was how he went on to describe the four elements that would change the very future of magic.


    Earth was not just the dirt beneath our feet, but it is also everything that is dry. Stone is dry; sand is dry; the bark of trees is dry; parts of man are also dry. So, all could be manipulated.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Wind was not just the gales that rustled a maiden''s skirt, but also the cold. Wind is the absence of all and cold is the result of said absence. This method of thinking quickly led to the discovery of ice magic.


    Fire was not just the crackling of orange wisps but heat itself. All light is heat and even the passion of men is argued by many to be a form of this very heat.


    Water was not just the liquid we need to drink but liquid in its entirety. Everything wet is potentially under a magician¡¯s control. The dubious acid and blood magics would eventually be born from this ideology.


    Wet and dry were the opposites on one another, for dry was the absence of the wet, and vice versa. Hot and cold were also the opposites of one another. For heat and cold could not exist in the same space without changing one another.


    Cold and dry elements are what most refer to as the ¡°lonely elements¡±, as they exist in absence of something else; they are inaction. Whereas the wet and hot elements are referred to as the "social elements¡±, as they require themselves to exist and flourish; they are action.


    With Omri¡¯s teachings, magic was able to evolve beyond the four basic elements and birth a wide variety many types of sub-elements in time. Ice is the combination of the wet and the cold. Dry, wet, and a smidge of heat creates basic life, allowing one to harness the plants of the world (more useful than you would expect). The rare lightning magic, whilst believed even by Omri to be a type of heat magic, in actuality it is the combination of hot, cold, and wet all working in unison. Although, I have heard rumours of a few magicians reaching such a level of heat magic that they can manifest pure bolts of lightning, instead of imitating the clouds above ¨C as is typically known.


    Perhaps the rumours are true, I remember at the age of forty-five witnessing a woman ¨C with a snap of her fingers caused a mountain to appear at she beside in an instant. And with another snap, the giant grey peak became completely blossomed in the most beautiful array of flowers I have ever seen to this day.


    Even my own affinity for the wind element has had constant whispers of grand magicians being able to use it to soar the skies and bend air in such a way the weight of things becomes distorted. My own grandest achievement was managing to create a tornado just big enough to swallow a few common huts, and even that gave a nasty nosebleed and headache.


    ¡°Whoa... I did not know this... This changes everything...¡± Apple breathed.


    Mula stared hard at Apple, ¡°Dint you go to a academy like this magician?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, doesn¡¯t mean I actually paid attention to my tutors though.¡±


    ¡°Your magic is wasted on you...¡± She sighed


    Apple coughed, breaking the silence. ¡°Well, let''s carry on reading shall we.¡± Apple said, as he hurriedly flipped the pages.


    Spells and Incantations ¨C I


    It came to my attention a few summers ago that many young magicians are actually unaware that the words they use when they cast their spells are merely an ancient language, and not some mythical sounds we just use all willy-nilly.


    Magic is simply the result of desire, fuelled by dwimmer, and controlled by skill. In theory, a magician could simply wish for a castle in front of him to spontaneously combust and it would do so; if it only it was that simple...


    Magic is merely the result of belief; and belief is merely the result of magic.


    Why does a magician simply not shout: ¡°wind shield¡±, instead of ¡°potiagin worden¡±, which it translates to? The answer is simple, we believe the language of old holds power because we BELIVE it to. For generations now, magicians of Loncia have been taught with a zealous enthusiasm that the once common tongue of a past country is actually a mystically-charged lexicon.


    I have come across several magicians in my years that have attempted to cast spells using their normal tongue to limited degrees of success. Apparently, it is easier for those who have not sought formal education from an academy or university, due to not having the power of the old language drilled into their minds.


    With time and training a magician will grow accustomed enough to certain spells, that omitting what is considered to be unnecessary words within a spell will still yield the same result. Forgoing words such as, ¡°ger¡± or ¡°ond¡± could give a magician an extra precious few fractions of a second enough to perhaps save their life. It would be akin to one saying (if skilled enough): ¡°fire, attack¡±, instead of: ¡°fire, heed my call and consume my enemy with haste and power.¡±


    Some magicians argue that the use of language in magic is in fact limiting its capabilities and simply wasting time. This however has been hard to prove as even the most rural of witches, or the most illiterate of sorcerers use some form of sound in their incantations. Even the indecipherable mumblings of a mad pellar, hurling globs of vomit-coloured fire, is still considered to be a type of incantation.


    Another method used to aid in casting a spell is the act of gesturing. Mostly used in tandem with incanting. Gestures assist a mage in knowing what a spell is doing and where it is going. An extremely common example of this is pointing the heart of your wand at your enemy, when firing a spell at them. However, wands are not common bows and therefore do not require to be aimed at all. A magician can hold their wand in any direction and the spell with still reach its target if the magician wills it to do so.


    Some magicians even take their gesturing a step further and move their body¡¯s in ways that to them is akin to the spoken belief of the old tongue. At first, I thought this was pointless and idiotic, yet a wise-man once explained to me that if the act of placing one¡¯s hands in prayer was powerful enough to communicate with God, why could the same not be done when speaking to one¡¯s dwimmer? I personally never bothered this with this method of casting, as I believe myself too old to learn new tricks, although I must admit a magician able to master this method would most certainly have a substantial advantage against a mage not used to this method ¨C of which there are plenty. Perhaps if they found a pattern of movements already practised in the same way the old tongue already existed, it would hasten the advancement of said method.


    Apple found himself particularly enthralled with this theory of incantation. He had always hated declaring what he was going to cast to the world around him. In the past he had even attempted to learn how to cast spells without audible incantations, although to very little success.


    Perhaps he could practice some simple gestures to assist with his spell casting, and no longer have to rely so heavily of the obviousness of the spoken word.


    It was most certainly something to be mindful of in the future.


    ***********


    The Discovery of Dwimmer ¨C IV


    To test to see if an individual is dwimmer-blessed is a simple matter in reality. All it requires is for an individual who has a least a rudimentary understanding of their own dwimmer to place their hands upon the person they are testing and look within ¨C in the same manner they do when gazing upon their own. It will take more time than seeing your own for it is technically an invasion you are inflicting upon them.


    After ten minutes and you have yet to find anything resembling a ball or thread of pale light, they are not chosen, if you do, well you should not need me to explain that.


    To determine their affinity, once their dwimmer is discovered, assess it to its most minute details.


    If it is blazing hot, they strong with the fire elements, but weak with water. If it is freezing, the opposite holds true. If it is warm or tepid, their affinity is roughly the same, usually meaning they will be average with both, instead of good with one and bad with other.


    If the dwimmer is stoic and unmoving, the earth elements are their companion. If it is wily and swirling, the air elements favour them. Anything in-between is the same as the fire and water elements ¨C average.


    Typically, if a mage is for example, strong with fire, their next strongest element will be followed by wind (as it is part of the social pair), then earth, and finally water. Nevertheless, there have been rare cases of this pattern not being true, with some magicians being both beloved by the fire elements and water elements almost as equally. What causes this? I do not have the foggiest idea unfortunately.


    If the dwimmer is any other hue than white or doing anything other than I have described, I would recommend consulting a different grimoire or magician, as it is far beyond my knowledge.


    Mula jumped into the air and giggled with unrelenting joy. The part of the grimoire she had so desperately wished for had finally found itself coming from Apple¡¯s lips.


    The moment that Apple had been dreading had at last arrived. It was time to finally find out if Mula would be able to become a magician.


    ¡°I just want you to remember, Mula, that the chances are incredibly low, so don¡¯t despair if you are not dwimmer-blessed".


    Mula simply nodded and yelled: ¡°kay.¡±


    With no point in waiting, Apple placed his hands on Mula and sent his dwimmerforth in search of its own kind. He was actually mildly annoyed with how easy it was.


    Minutes passed with Apple¡¯s dwimmer, the shape of a roaming snake, explored Mula¡¯s body for magic.


    And there it was... Something Apple never expected to find.


    Hidden away in her back, the hot scurrying of dwimmerlurked within. The way it thrashed and hummed with a pulsating blaze made Apple feel as if he was watching a panicked centipede; set ablaze.


    He opened his eyes and pulled his hands towards himself, ¡°well, I¡¯ll be dammed...¡± He whispered.


    Mula¡¯s face looked worried, her head tilting from side to side in curiosity. ¡°Well, well?¡±


    The speech Apple had been rehearsing in my mind for so long, about consoling Mula had turned out to be a waste of time. ¡°You¡¯re dwimmer-blessed, Mula. You can become a magician.¡±


    ***********


    Hours had passed with the pair basking in the hopeful glow of their futures. Apple now had a repertoire of spells and knowledge to implement, whilst Mula was now too privy to such wonders.


    Apple was nervous for the future too ¨C however. He was barely more an apprentice himself and now had to teach a little illiterate girl all he knew about magic. To make matters worse for him, she appeared to be the complete opposite of him in regards to elemental affinity. The way her dwimmerburned and darted around heavily suggested a strong connection to the fire and wind elements. Apple on the other hand was strongest with water, followed by earth and wind of almost equal mediocrity, and lastly fire. The flames were most certainly his weakest affinity.


    Also, Apple was reluctant to say it for fear or damaging his pride and inflating Mula¡¯s own, but he was almost certain the size and intensity of her dwimmerwas far greater than his at around her age. Even now the difference between the two was not so great that they were incomparable.


    He vowed to tell her the truth one day, however for now the information was pointless to her. Perhaps in time she would discover it herself in meditation. On the bright side, this discovery caused Apple¡¯s desire to become stronger to double with dedication. The envy he possessed towards a child would become his secondary source of passion to surpass his limits.


    He did wonder where her magic stemmed from. Maybe his joke about her being the bastard of a noble was truer than he realised.


    Shaking his head of such thoughts, Apple once again picked up Maxwell¡¯s grimoire and began to read.


    **********


    I am ninety-nine now, or at least I believe, seasons seem to blur with haste the older one gets. Writing this is requiring every last drop of strength these bones of mine still possess.


    It would seem my grandchildren have failed to show up and claim this book after all. I do hope my great-grandchildren will stop by at some point ¨C or I guess great-great-grandchildren is more of a possibility these days. It has become difficult to find the strength to leave my bedchambers lately and I¡¯ve grown quite tired of the view out of my window. I miss my children, I wish I could have told them that...


    I do wonder, if it is a blessing that the dwimmer inside me prolongs my life, or simply a curse...


    Apple stopped reading. Not because the emotion behind Maxwell¡¯s words brought him to a halt, but simply because that was the end. At least a third of the parchment was devoid of words. The curse of dwimmer... Perhaps the old magician had lost the strength to finish his book. Perhaps he just no longer cared to.


    ¡°What was the man¡¯s name again?¡± Mula asked.


    ¡°Maxwell. Sir Arthur Maxwell.¡± Apple calmly replied, closing the book and placing it carefully on the floor beside him.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll remember that name.¡±


    Apple smiled, ¡°I think I will too, Mula. I think I will too.¡± In that moment Apple vowed to himself, without realising he had done so, to always keep his ears ready to hear the name: Maxwell.


    ¡°Let us get some sleep, Mula. It¡¯s been a bloody long day, and I think we¡¯ll be having a lot of long days in the future too.¡±


    Mula smiled warmly. Her large canines ever so slightly poking out of her small-childish mouth, ¡°Kay.¡±

 Chapter 18: The Birth of a New Era

    Thousands of feet darted upon the wetlands, a sound akin to the making and rolling of fresh dough. The time of intimidating stares and awkward shuffling had come to an end and now the two foes must meet one another.


    A thunderous clattering of shields accompanied by a gross squelching sound ¨C the struggles of the soldier''s charge, signalled the beginning of the battle.


    It had been over five months now since Apple had become a solider for hire in the provenance of Tapisserie and the sight of masses of men, scurrying around like scorched ants had become a routine normality to him.


    Apple, as he did in most battles, stood alongside the line of archer¡¯s and proud bannermen, watching those who were considered to be his inferiors charge boldly into battle. Most without even the comfort of amour, wielding nothing more than a single mass-produced spear and shield. Their forced conscription placed upon them by their masters did not actually demand their survival. Apple looked down at the shine of his own hauberk shirt and felt the weight of the strong iron helm cradled in his arm, both were his spoils of previous skirmishes.


    ¡°I miss being part of the charge,¡± Mula sighed beside him.


    Apple turned and smiled at her, her unique features hidden away by her own new attire. The matted hair Apple had grown fond of was hidden under her new polished kettle helm. ¡°Nothing we can do about it to be honest.¡± He shrugged, ¡°as soon as our employer discovered our unique abilities, he saw it fit to keep us at the back, as his human catapults.¡±


    ¡°I know; I know, but it¡¯s boring. I feel as if my skills with my daggers and wand will dull if I don¡¯t get into a proper fight soon.¡±


    Internally, Apple agreed with his companion for he too wanted to be near the front, casting spells with his staff in one hand and swinging his sword wildly in the other. However, at this point in time he was not in a position to argue. His current employer: Clovis de Warren, Chevalier ¨C a walking clich¨¦ of a noble ¨C much to the amusement of Apple, kept the two mages at his side at all times as his glorified archers and decorative housecarls. Apple was even unsure how to explain to the Chevalier that he wanted to fight in the frontlines, his current position lined his pockets with more coin than those at the front who risked their lives, as well as significantly lowering the chance of his demise. People would think him mad to request to join the frenzied peasantry in their melee combat.


    Since he had yet to be ordered to do something, Apple merely watched the battle. A medium sized skirmish of around four-thousand men on Sir Warren¡¯s side and about five-thousand on the enemies. The two armies appeared to be equally matched at this period in time, although the foe¡¯s advantage in numbers would most likely sway the eventually outcome, if Apple and Mula were not there of course. Fighting a battle of spear and axe, whilst great balls of fire rained down from the sky upon you and your comrades was bothdevastating physically and morally. Apple suspected his employer was actually saving a lot more money in the long run by heavily relaying on his new mages and not purchasing more foot-soldiers for his escapades.


    The fellow was not even directing the battle with cunning tactics or moral-inducing speeches. Instead the fellow was simply enjoying a pleasant chat with his men-at-arms that surrounded him. There they sat atop their pedigree horses, as if a bunch of their famers were not currently dying in front of them. Apple wondered if the reason as to why the Chevalier had yet to offer him his own mount was because he still did not consider him near his equal. Whilst Apple was indeed a mage, or witan as they called those dwimmer-blessed here, he was still just a common mercenary and therefore not fit to sit at the same height as the man.


    Apple sighed. He could tell he was getting bored of the event with how much he was overthinking such a trivial matter.


    As if the man could tell Apple was thinking about him so intently, Sir Warren suddenly stopped his conversation with his men and turned to look at him. ¡°Witan Valet! I believe it is time for you and your apprentice to rain down fire and brimstone upon our enemies, no?¡± The Chevalier asked, playing with his finely trimmed moustache whilst he did so.


    Apple was still was not used to be being referred to as a Witan Valet. He and Mula had been in the country of Tapisserie for seven months now and only had just started to grasp the new words used here. A Witan Valet was a solider rank roughly equal to that of a centenar. Whilst the rank was impressive and was akin to stating he was at least worth one-hundred men, it was actually the second lowest rank a witan could achieve, with Mula¡¯s title of Witan Apprenti being the lowest. It had taken Apple far longer than he was proud to admit to realise his employer ¨C a Chevalier, was actually the equivalent to that of a Knight in Loncia. He wondered sometimes what the ranks for magicians were back home, as he never got a chance to participate in a war of any kind there.


    Apple bowed his head slightly to his current master, ¡°I agree, m¡¯lord. Perfect time for a volley of flames ¨C it is.¡±


    Sir Warren nodded his head approvingly, ¡°wonderful!¡± He bellowed, with a more forceful stroke of his moustache to help enunciate. ¡°Then I give you my permission, Witan Valet, fire!¡±


    ¡°Apple turned to face his companion. ¡°Alright Mula, you heard the man. It¡¯s time for us to do our thing.¡±


    ¡°Fine. It would be nice thought if we could at least change it up a little ¨C ya know. I love casting fire ¡®n¡¯ all, but maybe the odd tornado or earthquake would be nice too.¡± She grumbled.


    ¡°It would be nice ¨C I¡¯ll admit. Our comrades however might disagree with us. I don¡¯t know about you but aiming fireballs seems a tad easier that manipulating a tornado so it doesn¡¯t swallow our own men. Also, I¡¯m pretty sure you can¡¯t do either of those.¡±


    She cheeks puffed, ¡°I can to.¡± She protested.


    ¡°Yeah-yeah.¡± He waved. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s start casting before our master starts yelling at us ¨C again.¡±


    With the conversation over, Apple raised his catalyst upwards with its heart pointing diagonally to the sky. Apple admired his creation whilst dwimmer-infused words left his lips.


    It had been roughly sixteen months since the pair had left the city of Kettle with their new spell book in their hands, and Apple had learned much since then. Through constant usage as a result from frequent training and warfare, Apple¡¯s old catalyst began to fracture and crumble from fatigue. With little choice, he had dissected the precious innards of his creation and kept them for future recycling. Thankfully, his new career had offered him a gracious amount of finances and valuable trade connections required to build his new and much superior staff. This country was still thankfully free from the Circle¡¯s following gathering and hording precious metals and gemstones.


    This one possessed a steel spine with an eloquent scripture of spells etched around it ¨C spiralling like a knotted boquet of flowers. Its veins the smelted twine of copper, with even strands of silver and gold beside it. Its flesh was birthed from melted amethysts and sapphire dust. Its skin was a glossy black, crafted from the versatile roots of a well-aged oak tree. With finally its heart being the very same amber Apple had been given a long time ago, his fondness for the gem had grown to a level Apple never expected.


    This time however, he had been able to make his catalyst shorter due to its superior materials and his improved craftsmanship. The end result was something that looked to be a hybrid of a gentleman¡¯s walking stick and a barbarian''s cudgel, making it both a stylish fashion accessory whilst out galivanting, and a brutal bone-crusher on the battlefield. Apple had become so infatuated with his new creation to such an extent, that he had blessed it with a name: Alice. Much to Mula¡¯s mild disgust.


    With his incantation complete and the humming of dwimmer pulsating within the amber of his catalyst, Apple fired his spell. The sight of a decrepit old man, bound to his bed flashed in his mind. He had studied Lord Maxwell¡¯s grimoire in its entireties. Each word was examined and studied to the extreme, with even its smells and textures being scanned for any osmosis knowledge.


    Apple never forgot what he had learned ¨C not a single scrawl. ¡°Water was the wet. To think of it as just water was to weaken its potential.¡±


    From the tip of Apple¡¯s staff, a powerful stream of thick black oil soared into the sky. When it reached its peak, and the heavens demanded it to cease its ascent, the viscous ink flew back down to the earth in a shape akin to arch of a rainbow, drizzling down upon the enemy soldiers.


    After around thirty seconds of spraying oil upon his Master¡¯s foes, Apple ceased and rewarded himself with a deep inhale of air. ¡°You¡¯re up, Mula.¡±


    ¡°¡¯Bout time,¡± she grinned.


    Apple saw in the corner of his eye, his no-longer so little companion aimed her wand in the same manner he had do so with his staff, and unleash a barrage of fireballs ¨C arching through the sky. Each orange orb would crash into the enemy line into an explosion of scarlet weaves, quickly followed by the ignition of Apple¡¯s oil, engulfing hundreds of men in a torturous blaze.


    In just a few measly minutes almost the entirety of the rivalling army was glowing with a parasitic red aura, with only the very front line spared due to their closeness to the witan¡¯s allies.


    The pair watched the result of their mystical efforts with mixed emotions displayed across their faces. When Apple was younger, he complained about his affinity for the water elements, in his eyes it was soft and weak. Now, standing in front of the majesty of the blazing ethereal salamanders and their dance, his fate with the undine was perhaps a blessing afterall.


    ¡°Wonderful, Witan Valet! Simply wonderful,¡± Sir Warren cried. ¡°I do never tire of seeing such a display. I would even find myself envious of your power, were in not for the good Lord blessing me with such a powerful physique and dashing good looks.¡±


    Apple groaned internally and turned to meet his master. ¡°It is as you say, m¡¯lord, the blessing of your birth has given you the power of wealth and a diet required to produce a strong body.¡± Apple praised. ¡°As for your appearance, I¡¯m afraid that I have had too few encounters with m¡¯lord not donned in his helm and coif.¡±


    Sir Warren once again began to stroke his illustrious moustache, ¡°Is that so...¡± He pondered. ¡°Perhaps I should invite the good Witan Valet to my manor one day. I even have a servant who makes the most delectable pigeon-pie, a food that is most popular in your home land ¨C so I have been told.¡±


    Apple bowed low in response, ¡°I would be honoured, m¡¯lord. Although, I must admit I have never had pigeon-pie. My previous Lord was too much of a fan of the delicacy I¡¯m afraid.¡± Apple lied. He actually loved pigeon-pie to such an extent that he was the former Lord stealing it from others, even his own siblings. He could feel himself salivating at the idea of one again feasting upon the pastry-clad bird.


    ¡°I see, such a shame. Perhaps then once...¡±


    ¡°My Lord!¡± One of the Sir Warren¡¯s retainers screamed.


    In that same moment, a melody of wet slapping-sounds shook the battlefield. Everyone went silent and turned to face the noise.


    Giant tendrils of bulbous mud sprouted from the marsh of the land and struck Sir Warren¡¯s army, like whips. Dozens of men screamed as they were thrown into the air by the abominations; their bodies crushed and mangled from the force. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Mula beamed a smile so wide the edges almost touched her eyes, ¡°enemy magician.¡± She giggled.


    Apple followed Mula¡¯s bright yellow eyes and did indeed see in the distance the shape of a well-dressed man, waving around a reflective stick in his hand. Apple was actually a little relieved to see the magical foe, for a fraction of a second, he had thought the ground had come to life to slaughter them. He vowed to never let Mula know the that.


    ¡°M¡¯lord, permission to engage with the enemy witan?¡± Apple asked his master.


    Sir Warren¡¯s face was pale from the shock of the attack, he stroked his moustache now with an anxious intensity that looked as if it hurt. ¡°Yes-yes; go. I give you my permission, Witan Valet.¡±


    Apple bowed once more, ¡°thank you, m¡¯lord¡±.


    With the formalities out of the way, Apple turned to the fidgeting Mula and allowed himself a small grin, ¡°ready?¡±


    ¡°Ready? I was ready ten minutes ago.¡±


    ¡°My, the youth of today,¡± Apple mused. ¡°Just like in the past, Mula, you go left, I¡¯ll go right. Don¡¯t start attacking until the enemy is completely focussed on me, got it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah-yeah, bossy britches.¡±


    ¡°Just checking, smart-arse. Alright, see ya in a minute or two.¡± And with that said, Apple donned his helm and started to run around the mass of both armies, making sure to pay close attention to the family of tendrils scattered around.


    Apple appraised his foe¡¯s manifestations whilst he ran. The enemy was most likely a greater magician than himself, yet he doubted it was to such a great extent that the battle was hopeless. A truly prestigious mage would not be participating in such a meagre skirmish such as this, and whilst the mass of march-limbs was indeed impressive, they were most likely a result of an incredibly long incantation ¨C requiring a significant amount of focus. Apple¡¯s hypothesis was further evidenced by the large number of well-equipped soldiers surrounding the magician whilst he concentrated. They were tasked with protecting him whilst he focused on the rival army.


    Apple managed to get near to the end of the enemy lines unimpeded before one of the survivors took notice of him, and attempted to strike him with their spear. Apple side-stepped out of the way and aimed his catalyst at the man. In a couple of breath, an icicle barely thicker than a knitting needle grew from the amber and pieced the man¡¯s unarmoured neck. As soon as Apple saw it meet his target, with a swift twist, he snapped the ice of his staff and carried on running towards the enemy magician.


    More and more men came at him now. Spears and the occasional axe darted towards Apple with a confidence their magician¡¯s manifestation must have birthed.


    Apple drew his short-sword and hacked into a man¡¯s neck, kicking another away immediately afterwards. As a swarm started to grow around him, Apple echoed an incantation and twirled his catalyst in one hand, like in his days as a street performer. After four rotations and a sentence uttered, from the ground below his opponents, a pillar of cloudy grey ice seemingly sprung from the ground and devoured them all. Only one survived, with only his arm being trapped inside the pillar. Apple was about to finish the man off, when he suddenly decided against and the decided the peasant-looking man deserved a chance to live.


    About ten more strides into his sprint, a whip of wet earth cracked towards him; it would appear the enemy magician noticed his magical display a moment ago. Apple rolled out of the way, expecting the attack as it was his goal to drawn the man¡¯s attention.


    The moment he regained himself and once again stood tall, the tendril whipped itself around as if it was a sling and came at him for another attempt. Apple stood his ground with seeming arrogance; his catalyst aimed at the mass of mud, as if it was a charging boar and his staff a spear. With only about ten-feet of distance left before the tendril struck, Apple twirled his catalyst six times ¨C mumbling words of power all the while.


    With a snap of his elbow and powerful thrust, his staff exhaled a plume of dense fog, that enveloped the majority of the tendril¡¯s brown body. Its momentum was swallowed ¨C static. Its slimy wetness hardened and splintered in the bends of its shape.


    Apple stood still for a moment, admiring his work. Whilst still nothing too impressive ¨C freezing a mass of mud, until recently had been an impossibility for his still level. Now, he could stand proudly in front of a trapped snake of earth, of around thirty-feet long, and was only mildly winded from the experience.


    He was not able to enjoy it for long however, a second and third tendril had replaced the former, clearly seeing him as more of a threat now. Apple retreated and planted the bottom of his staff into the marshy ground. He gathered vast quantities of water within the dirt and held it within his staff.


    Once the enemy tendrils had extended themselves enough to be able to reach him, Apple swung his catalyst as if it was a sword at the pair. From the amber a beam of condensed water spurted forth and sliced the tendrils in twain.


    Apple marched slowly towards his advisory, so he did not break his connection with the water below.


    More and more tendrils of smaller sizes spawned around him and attacked like ravenous vipers. Apple held strong and continued to sever them apart over and over again, with what he liked to refer to as his ¡°magic water sword.¡±


    Apple cut the tendrils with the formal sword techniques of a noble, the memories coming back to him once again in the heat of battle. Yet, in his attempts, for everyone he severed apart, two more could grow from its remains and be upon him in a moment. He was managing to ward of the attacks for now ¨C for now and nothing more. He could feel himself beginning to tire and eyes ache from the intense focus he demanded of them to see the constant attempts at his life from all directions. He took solace in knowing that at least his opponent must also be beginning to tire and was also completely focussed on him. He just wished Mula would hurry up.


    Apple could see that the majority of the battle had ended now ¨C through the hasty blurs as his eyes darted around. It appeared that the soldiers had become entranced by their magical duel and were now watching the spectacle, as if it were a play.


    Apple felt an arrow strike his ribs whilst he fought. It would seem that not all were enjoying his awesome display enough to forget their purpose here. It ached horrifically, yet Apple could see no arrow shaft sticking out of him. Fortunately, it appeared that his armour had done its job and had managed to deflect the arrow successfully.


    Through gritted teeth he was able to never waver in the speed of his swings against the bulbous monstrosities. Nevertheless, the idea that an arrow was capable of striking him was very much now on his mind now.


    After several more minutes, Apple finally saw a burst or orange flicker in the distance. In almost an instant, the tendrils of mud stopped in their movements, and oozed onto the floor into great masses of puddles.


    Apple could see Mula¡¯s grey cloak floating in the wind, whilst she summoned fireball after fireball at the rival magician. To Apple¡¯s disappointment, the magician was still very much alive, hiding low behind his guards ¨C all of huddled together with raised shields, no choice but to embrace Mula¡¯s magical blows.


    He began to jog towards the group, casting his oil spell all the while. It appeared that the magician¡¯s bodyguards possessed fire resistant shields, yet they would no longer be so, once Apple¡¯s spell clung to them.


    Unfortunately, Apple had taken too long to complete him incantation and the enemy magician had regained himself. He saw Apple approach and gaped at him with unrestrained hatred. Before the oil could drench the enemy, the rival magician commanded the winds to swarm him and cast the liquid aside.


    ¡°Cunt,¡± Apple breathed. He casted another quick spell and sent several small shards of ice sailing towards the enemy.


    His foe once again beckoned the wind to protect him. One of the shards managed to find purchase in a guard¡¯s arm, yet it did not deter him from his duty in the slightest. ¡°Stupid bloody wind.¡± he spat.


    Apple decided that ranged attacks were a pointless endeavour right now, so he would simply do nothing a magician never ever expected another magician to do, charge him.


    Apple sprinted towards him like an enraged berserker. He could not help but smile a little when he saw the confused expression upon his enemy¡¯s face. Even his guardsmen seemed perplexed by his actions, yet they still kept themselves composed enough to maintain their shield wall. Their spears also ready to strike him once he was near.


    Just before he reached their range, Apple aimed his staff towards the ground and jumped. A blast of air shot forth from the amber and sent him flying into the air, landing beside the magician with a practiced roll.


    He was back on his feet in a breath and swung his sword wildly at his opponent. His hand shook when he felt the resistance of metal once his blade landed, it would appear that the magician was hiding armour of some kind under his pristine robes.


    Apple could feel the sudden stares of the men who surrounded him, before they could compose themselves, Apple once again twirled his staff, aimed it at the ground, and leapt away from the circle of enemies.


    ¡°Light them up, Mula!¡± He screamed, whilst he tumbled through the air. This time Apple had been a lot hastier and landed with an ungracious thud. He at least got to enjoy the sound of sizzling flames whilst he rested upon the damp earth.


    After a quick few breaths to help regain himself, Apple got to his feet as quick as his aching body allowed him.


    Most of the magician¡¯s bodyguards were engulfed in flames now, yet the magician himself was still very much alive.


    ¡°Would you be so kind as to just die now, please?¡± Apple wheezed. He was too far away for the magician to have heard him, but the sneer on the man¡¯s face told Apple that the feeling was mutual.


    Apple could feel the ground shake undeath him and prepared to jump into the air once more. However, as soon as his fee left the ground, blades of grass came to life and wrapped themselves around his ankles, trapping him and forcing him in place. "shit,¡± he cursed.


    He attempted to free himself, but more and more blades of grass came to life and squeezed him like a snake. Some even grew in size and began to prick into his flesh. ¡°You¡¯re certainly a creative mage,¡± Apple praised through gritted teeth.


    He decided it was best for now just to ignore the pain as best he could and return an attack of his own. He forced himself to cease wincing whilst he conjured another volley of icicle shards at the enemy. To Apple¡¯s mild surprise, his foe did not cast his spell aside with his own magic rebuttal. Instead he dove sluggishly to the side, the shards only just missing him by the width of a monk¡¯s hair. Apple wondered just how much he had managed to wound the magician¡¯s pride by forcing him to move so ungraciously.


    Apple could feel the grass constricting him weaken its embrace. He crouched down and pulled the weeds from the earth, like an enraged gardener of high expectations.


    A small orb of fire, barely the size of a man¡¯s fist, flew into Apple¡¯s vision and struck the magician¡¯s leg. He screamed in agony from the sizzling blush the flames caused. It appeared that Mula was still in the fight, but the size of attack showed the world just how little dwimmer she still possessed.


    Fulfilling his role as her de facto master, Apple approached the prone magician with lethargic pace, summoning the final spell of the battle: ¡°ice javelin.¡± An icicle the length of his arm sprung from Apple¡¯s cane with the speed on an arrow and found its way in the enemy magician''s head.


    There was no grand final act of desperation from his enemy, no clever quips from Apple, there was only the silent sound of victory.


    Apple at least rewarded his efforts by slumping the damp ground and taking a well-earned break. He looked around the battlefield with a cloudy drowsiness and quickly knew his services were no longer required, his master and his men hadwon the fight.


    ¡°Enjoying yourself?¡± Apple heard an all-too familiar voice ask.


    ¡°Immensely,¡± he smiled. ¡°Nothing quite like the soothing warmth that comes from the idleness of aching muscles. Care to join me?¡±


    Apple heard a body sit down beside him, ¡°Shit, it¡¯s wet!¡±


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s wet, you plonker. We¡¯re in the wetlands.¡± Apple said.


    ¡°Shut up, smart-arse. I forget alright ; ¡®bit tired. I¡¯d warm me arse with dwimmer, but I¡¯m all out.¡± Mula whined.


    ¡°Me too, I¡¯m afraid; completely spent. Gonna get a nasty headache in a minute most likely.¡± Apple whistled.


    ¡°Same. Whose gonna get the fella¡¯s wand?¡± Mula asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know. It¡¯s good ol¡¯ Sir Warren¡¯s now however. He¡¯ll probably keep it as a trophy.¡±


    ¡°Damn shame that, I was planning on keeping it as a trophy too.¡±


    Apple turned, ¡°oh yeah? Planning on collecting magician¡¯s catalysts, are you?¡±


    Mula shrugged, ¡°you¡¯ve gotta have a hobby haven¡¯t ya.¡±


    Apple sighed, ¡°true, perhaps something that involves less fighting folk who can destroy armies on their own with giant shit snakes. How about bird watching?¡±


    Before Mula could respond, a solider jogged towards the pair. ¡°Hail Witans!¡± He cried, ¡°are you okay?¡±


    Apple waved at the man in greeting from where he sat, ¡°we¡¯re fine thank you, just resting a bit. The fight had us spent I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m not surprised. We men saw you both running about flinging fireballs and making ice appear from thin air. Never seen anything quite like it to be honest.¡± The solider breathed in awe.


    ¡°Well, to be honest with you mate, giant mud tendrils are a new one for me too.¡± Apple said honestly, ¡°I think I¡¯ll remember that one for myself.¡±


    ¡°I look forward seeing it, good witan. M¡¯Lord if eager to see you when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    ¡°When we¡¯re ready, aye?¡± Apple mimicked. ¡°You ready, Mula?¡±


    ¡°Piss off am I!¡± She exclaimed, ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll find us eventually. I¡¯m not standing up until my arse dries, so I¡¯m gonna be here a while.¡±


    Apple looked at the solider with a slight pitying gaze, ¡°teenage girls, am-I-right?¡±

 Chapter 19: The Celebrations of Victory

    The warmth of a grand fire. The jovial hoots of inebriated victory. The idle wineskin dangling in a relaxed grip. The once hidden sight of women had now come to greet and tend to the men. The festive night after a long battle.


    Apple was sat upon a log. He always somehow found himself upon the severed stump during their rests at camp. Never the ground, nor a stool was ever burdened by his weight. He wondered, with the clarity of an almost empty wineskin, was someone preparing a log for his rump every encampment, or was his rear simply adept in seeking them out?


    In the distance he could see a stout woman ¨C features hidden behind a modest wimple and dress, cleaning and oiling what he was certain was his chainmail. His gambeson, sword, cloak, and boots were being tended to somewhere else beyond his sight. So, their Apple sat, with only a pale pair of hose to warm his legs and a loose tunic to hide his modesty. His long auburn hair drying beside the fire after a quick wash of warm salt-water, a privilege given to him due by the dwimmer that dwelled within him.


    Around him the soldier''s gorged themselves on ales, meads, and water-wines, the pain of battle long forgotten from their minds until the morning after. The few lucky and more accomplished of the bunch were also met with the splendour of women ¨C tending to them in some manner. Whether it be their wounds, thirst, or their basic urges as a man. Until very recently Apple never knew that it was the norm for armies to be tailed by masses of women; some wives, sisters, mothers, and others merely prostitutes who could pretend to be any of the former for a night.


    The cheering, the dancing, and the singing that a brush with death brought to the senses; it was Apple¡¯s favourite time of the day. A part of him even wished to join the men, yet he felt as if he could not. He was a foreigner; here not because his Lord demanded his attendance, but simply for some wealthy man¡¯s pittance. He was not a noble or one of the noble''s consorts, but he was at least a witan. A being gifted with ability to conjure wonders capable of decimating hundreds; something no title or amount of wealth could bestow upon an individual. He was too powerful for the common soldiers to identify with, yet not grand enough to stand beside the nobles. So, here he sat, in his self-inflicted purgatory ¨C not that he particularly minded all that much.


    He felt pity for his companion however. If he was an oddity, then Mula was completely bizarre creature of clandestine rumours. A woman and a witan were strange enough on their own merits, added alongside her brownish skin, piercing yellow eyes, and large canines were the final nails in her coffin of ostracising uniqueness. He watched her in the corner of his eye whilst she loomed over a group of young-looking men, her internal struggle to start a conversation with them as plain as the naked moon. Apple felt sorry for her. She was around thirteen years old now he believed, although her height was already greater than that of the average woman, it was perfectly normal for people of her age to seek companionship in some form ¨C and he made a poor substitute.


    Apple had even caught her trying to make small-talk with the women before, however they seemed outright terrified of her. Her gender and prestige were a combination that the common women were unable to comprehend. Her existence went against everything they had been taught since they had left their mother¡¯s womb; men had power and the women did not.


    Apple would sometimes try to think of ways to aid her in her quest for an acquaintance, unfortunately he had never been very good at the activity of befriendment either. In the world of nobility, if you were of poor character and therefore unlikeable, all you had to was find some lesser nobles to follow you around like new-born ducklings. Every word you said to them would either be the wisest thing someone had ever uttered, or the funniest ¨C sometimes both.


    He was at least happy that while no one seemed to be willing to befriend his prot¨¦g¨¦, they were all still polite and respectful to her to an acceptable degree. Her magical queerness and foreign features appeared to be outweighed by her deeds on the battlefield. Mula had saved many lives and hopefully they all realised that as well. ¡°Good luck, little one,¡± Apple whispered to himself.


    ¡°Talking to yourself, are we Witan Valet,¡± Apple heard an approaching voice cry out. ¡°Not secretly casting a spell, now are we?¡±


    Apple looked up, no longer enjoying the feeling of sloshing his wineskin around whilst he lost himself in thought. ¡°Hail, m¡¯lord. Sorry, I was just thinking out loud ¨C I was.¡±


    ¡°Must be something quite profound to have escaped your mind and found itself on your tongue.¡± Sir Warren replied. He walked around the large fire in front of Apple until they were around ten-feet apart. Without even needing to make a single command, as soon the Chevalier bowed his legs, a page seemingly materialised by his side and placed a stool on the grass, ready for his noble rump to sit on.


    ¡°Is there something troubling you, Witan Valet? If so, do not be afraid to voice it. The opinions of my men are something I value dearly.¡±


    Apple sincerely doubted that, unless he only considered the people currently surrounding him whilst he sat to be his ¡°men¡±. He had yet to see Sir Warren alone without his entourage of well-armed petty nobles, his several pages, and his two squires. Although, unlike his constantly armed friends, the Chevalier was currently dressed similar to Apple ¨C the clothing still being a much higher quality of course. The only major difference being that whilst Apple had his catalyst placed across his lap, his lordship had his faithful war-scythe lent against his shoulder.


    Apple was always perplexed about his master¡¯s choice of weaponry. Everything about the man was a walking stereotype of nobility. Overly-polished armour, silk embraided clothing, even his tone of voice and mannerisms were all so typical for his birth. So, why the war-scythe? Whilst it was most certainly an uncommon weapon to happen upon, it was still most defiantly considered to be a peasant weapon. The one Sir Warren equipped looked well made, but it possessed no decorations nor polished sheen. No intricate patterns nor flamboyant colours. It was just merely a long wooden shaft, with grey-iron convex blade attached to the top. Apple was not even certain that the Chevalier could actually wield the weapon effectively, for he had never seen the man engage in combat beyond the occasional lackadaisical firing of his crossbow.


    Apple realised he had crept into deep thoughts again and shook his head slightly. ¡°No, m¡¯lord, no complaints. I just like to lose myself in thought after a battle.¡±


    Sir Warren began to gently stroke his long-oiled moustache, ¡°I see ¨C I see. Would you like to share any of these thoughts with me, good witan?¡±


    Apple shook his head, ¡°I¡¯m afraid they¡¯ll just bore m¡¯lord.¡±


    ¡°How dare you not answer Sir Warren when he asked of you a question!¡± One of his crony¡¯s yelled. His body lunged forward with incredulous zeal to his master.


    Sir Warren brought his arm into the air passively to silence the man, ¡°Peace, Phillip. It was not a command to my Witan Valet, just a request. It was his choice whether to heed it or not.¡±


    The man took a step back behind his Lord and regained his proud perfect posture. ¡°Sorry, my Lord. I just do not care for the casualness this hired witan displays around you. He did not even stand or bow his head at your arrival¡± Phillip replied.


    Apple withheld a grimace at that remark, the man was not wrong, he had completely forgotten to do so. ¡°Master Phillip is correct, m¡¯lord. I am sorry, I forgot to make the appropriate greetings to you.¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it, good witan. I am sure you are tired after today''s fight. I saw running around the battlefield, breathing snow and slicing monstrous beings in twain with water of all things. Why, I felt weary just watching you.¡±


    ¡°Just doing what you pay me for, m¡¯lord.¡±


    ¡°If that is true, I fear I should start having to pay you more.¡± He laughed. ¡°Did you know the men have a name for you now? No longer are we just my Witan Valet.


    ¡°A name?¡± Apple repeated, ¡°I hope it¡¯s nothing too slanderous.¡±


    ¡°No-no, I actually believe it is quite a fitting name after today''s spectacle. Would you like to hear it?¡±


    Apple was a little worried now, ¡°If you could be so kind as to indulge me, m¡¯lord.


    Sir Warren smiled, showing a row of perfectly sculpted white teeth, ¡°Tueur de Wyrm.¡±


    Apple felt his eyebrow cock, ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what it means. I¡¯m still not used to your country¡¯s old tongue.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I did not think you would know its meaning. It means: Worm Slayer.¡±


    ¡°Worm Slayer, as in someone who slays worms?¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°Like worms, the things you find in the ground or in the occasional piece of fruit?¡±


    ¡°The very same.¡±


    ¡°Why are they saying I slay worms? I didn¡¯t accidentally eat one, did I?¡± Apple said, thinking back to all the times he had eaten apples, turnips, and onions in front of the men.


    ¡°Not that I am aware of. Those great masses of mud our witan enemy created looked a lot like great big worms, would you agree? After seeing you do battle with so many of the creations, the men started to shout the name in harmony, cheering you on. Now it seems the title has stuck. Congratulations, my good witan. The battlefield is the perfect place to gain an epithet.¡±


    It would appear the noble that Apple once was had truly been forgotten at last. He had hidden his first forename a long time ago and chose to forgo his family name, and now he possessed neither. The youngest son of Clemonshire was no more. Stolen novel; please report.


    Apple rubbed his hand down his face, pulling the skin and hairs along with it. ¡°Worm Slayer, seriously? Can¡¯t be monster or magician slayer, or even just giant worm slayer? People are going to think I kill common garden worms as a hobby!¡±


    ¡°It seems you are not too pleased with your new title, Apple Tueur de Wyrm. Or, in the common tongue, Apple the Worm Slayer.¡± Sir Warren said with a completely stone-like face, something Apple was a bit suspicious of.


    ¡°That has to be without a doubt the stupidest name I have ever heard. I killed a bear once, where were the people to declare me Bear Slayer then?¡± Apple groaned.


    ¡°Oh, come now, do not fret over it. It is a far cry from the name bestowed upon myself, when my back is turned: Clovis the Idle. Such a rude title. These men have no idea how much effort I put in into keeping this army functioning.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps if you led at least a single charge your men wouldn¡¯t think you so lazy...¡± Apple thought to himself. He sighed. ¡°On a slightly different topic, m¡¯lord, what¡¯s next for us? The marshlands are now ours. Are we to stay and build defences, or press on?¡±


    ¡°You do not need to know that information, Worm Slayer.¡± One of Sir Warren¡¯s men mocked.


    ¡°Peace, Renold, peace. A messenger came by earlier at the behest of my Lady, stating to press on to the city of Pelpalduex, and rendezvous there with my Lady.¡± He explained, dismissing his man with causal wave of his hand in the same way he had done so with Phillip.


    ¡°Your Lady, Duchess Palmyre, I believe was her name?¡±


    ¡°You believe correctly. Dame Palmyre la Revenir, Duchesse de Berzek. Eldest daughter to the late king and rightful heir to the throne.¡± The Chevalier explained.


    ¡°Fancy title, that,¡± Apple mused. ¡°Forgive me speaking out of turn, m¡¯lord, but is it not usual for a woman to become sovereign of a nation?¡±


    Several men stepped forward this time, ¡°how dare you!¡± They all cried.


    ¡°Must I keep all of your feet glued to the floor?¡± Sir Warren asked incredulously, ¡°It is a slightly rude question ¨C yes, nevertheless a valid one indeed. You see, Witan Valet, our former king: Louis III perished of sickness almost a year ago today. His eldest, Louis IV was both next in line for the throne and a popular choice for nobles and commoners alike. Sadly, he would perish shortly after his father under dubious circumstances.¡±


    ¡°You suspect assassination?¡± Apple asked.


    ¡°To suspect anything at all would be highly treasonous, Witan Valet, you will do well to remember that.¡± He warned, stroking his moustache with a harsh flick instead of his usual flourishes. ¡°With Louis IV¡¯s death, that left two candidates with any decent claim to the Tapisserie throne: Duchess Palmyre and Count Jacob of Lyondun, her Lady¡¯s younger brother. As to why I chose to follow a woman over a man? I have only had the privy to meet Lord Jacob once, however that was more than enough to know that he would be a disaster of a king. It is always the youngest sons that make the worse leaders; all of the privileges of nobility and none of the responsibility.¡±


    Apple failed to find a rebuttal to that last statement.


    ¡°My Lady was sent to the provenance of Mukr¡¯zem when she was barely more than a child. Honestly, Witan Valet, she was mostly forgotten by the people ¨C myself included. It was not until the death of her father did her existence reappear in the minds of us Tapitans. A young girl sailed away to be one of many, in a foreign king¡¯s concubines suddenly came back a grown Duchess in charge of a third of said country, is that not astounding, Witan Valet?¡±


    Apple was indeed impressed by what the Chevalier had told him; a truly unlikely story indeed. He wondered how the woman had managed to accomplish such a feat. ¡°Truly incredible, m¡¯lord, truly incredible.¡± He replied.


    Sir Warren nodded approvingly, ¡°I am glad you agree. I never doubted that you would not of course, as you do not seem to discriminate against the sexes as most do.¡±


    ¡°Are you referring to Mula?¡± Apple inquired. ¡°To be honest, me training in her in ways of magic was completely random ¨C really random. I mean a really one in a million-chance kind of thing. You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you how we met.¡± Apple could not help but look down at the hand Mula had bitten when they first met.


    ¡°I can imagine it is a truly enthralling tale; I would like to hear it some time.¡±


    Apple doubted he did, ¡°and I¡¯d love to share it as well one day.¡±


    ¡°Do you care, Worm Slayer?¡± Roland suddenly asked, his left foot had been tapping with an apparent impatience for a while now. ¡°Do you care who sits upon our throne, or is it only coin that sways your heart?¡±


    Apple looked down at the wineskin in his hand. He began to swing it from side to side, feeling the dregs of its contents slosh to each side, aiding in its pendulum-like motion. ¡°Tell me, m¡¯lord, do you know who sits upon the Loncian throne?¡±


    Roland paused and brought a cold silence to the conversation.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do it, can you? Don¡¯t fret, m¡¯lord, most people can¡¯t.¡± Apple stopped playing with his wineskin and allowed it to collapse to the floor, its last few drops not worth trying to obtain. ¡°That is your answer, m¡¯lord.¡±


    The silence continued for another few breaths before Sir Warren seemed to feel compelled to end it. ¡°It matters not why you fight, Witan Valet, as long as you fight for me and my Lady; that is all I ask.¡±


    Apple nodded, ¡°Thank you, m¡¯lord.¡± He replied, standing up with his final pleasantry, ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, m¡¯lord, I am quite tired and wish to retire to my tent.¡±


    Sir Warren nodded back in response, ¡°I think that is mighty fine idea, good witan. I shall send one of my pages to wake you on the morrow. Pleasant dreams, Witan Valet.¡±


    Apple allowed himself a small bow in farewell, ¡°and you as well, m¡¯lord.¡± With that, he turned on heels and strolled towards his tent, returning the polite nods and greetings that were given to him as he walked.


    Once he had made his way to his tent, he was met with the sight several young women lounging around its entrance. Their plain clothing contrasted their obvious painted faces in the bright torches and pale moonlight. ¡°Greeting, Sir Witan.¡± The boldest of the group said. ¡°Would you be requiring our services tonight?¡±


    Apple waved his free-hand dismissively, ¡°thank you, but not tonight I¡¯m afraid. Please, enjoy the rest of the night and find enjoyment in company elsewhere, the men have certainly earned it.¡± Apple strode past the women and made his way into his tent.


    ¡°He says tonight as if he doesn¡¯t refuse us every night.¡± He heard one of the women huff outside his current abode.


    ¡°Does he not find us attractive?¡± Another asked.


    ¡°Nonsense. Even if he didn¡¯t, time and drink always sway the loins in the end. Why, even Sir Warren the renown snob now accepts whores into his chambers.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s a witan thing? Maybe magic changes them in some ways?¡±


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s one of them buggerers? Not like there aren¡¯t always a few in an army this large.¡± Someone snickered.


    Apple wondered if the women somehow thought the paper-thin walls of his tent were able to keep their gossiping from his ears. A part of him wanted to storm out there and reprimanded them for their slander, but that would just make matters worse for himself.


    Was it truly so rare for a man to refuse the company of women?


    A question that in the past even he would have said ¡°yes¡± to. He would have to be careful of these possible rumours however, it might affect his standing within Sir Warren¡¯s rank. Apple would have to find subtle ways to quell their possible infection.


    Tired, Apple removed his tunic and tossed it aside carelessly. The truth was that he had slept with many women in his time in Tapisserie. He was witan with excesses coin, and was neither a complete horror to look upon, so he never had any trouble finding someone to warm his bed. However, they too might share his refusal for companionship if everyone they ever laid with would always shapeshift into a plague of little green men; indulging in little green men desires.


    ***********


    ¡°It is time for us to be off, good witan!¡± A loud nasally voice cried.


    Apple stirred reluctantly from underneath his wool blanket, ¡°I thought you were sending one of your pages to come wake me?¡± Apple asked with a dry throat and eyelids trapped by nightly crust.


    ¡°I did. He said you waved your hand frantically at him and repeated the word: icicle at him, until he left.¡±


    Apple stumbled to his feet and stretched his aching body. With a practised motion, he grabbed his beloved Alice and hovered her over his face. In a few breaths refreshing cool water rained down upon his features, trickling all the way down to his feet ¨C invigorating him.


    ¡°My word, that is a nifty trick.¡± The Chevalier praised, ¡°If I am to ever rise in rank, I hope to employ a witan for the sole purpose of being my personal groomer.¡±


    Apple ended his spell and began to rub the water nestling on the outer layer of his hair all the way through its entirety, undoing the bedhead curls with his comb-like fingers.


    ¡°You know, you should really consider cutting that long hair of yours. I do not know what the fashion is back in Loncia, but here we men like to keep out hair no longer than our ear lobes. That small beard of yours would also look much better as a well-maintained moustache.


    Apple appraised the man in front of him, giving him advice, he had never asked for. Soft glossy brown hair that curled ever so slightly around his ears, and a moustache that looked to be made more of oil than hair. Although, Apple had to admit that the Chevalier overall was indeed an attractive man. He had never been one to particularly care too much about fashion and would always simply wear what his chamberlain would present him with. Recently he was too poor to be even considering things as frivolous as fashion. Yet, now he took great care to keep his hair long and allowed his face to sprout a beard. He even adorned himself with broaches and large iron buckles that wrapped around his tunic, as it all was the fashion back in Loncia. He might be missing home more than he realised.


    Apple noticed that his Lord had become silence whilst he dressed, he turned to look at the man once more. ¡°Is there something wrong, m¡¯lord?¡±


    Apple followed the man¡¯s quiet gaze and saw that his ended on his body. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, m¡¯lord, have you never seen scars before?¡±


    Sir Warren exhaled deeply, ¡°of course I have ¨C even have a few of my own to boast about. However, to gather as many and as large as yours... Were you purchase captured at some point in history and tortured?¡±


    Apple allowed himself a small laugh, whilst he tied his vambraces around his forearms. ¡°Nothing quite so unpleasant thankfully. Most were admittedly caused by my own stupidity and poor methods used for closing the wounds. If you ever wish to acquire a hefty scar to impress a maiden, I¡¯d recommended placing fire upon the infliction ¨C the fresher the better. Be warned, m¡¯lord, as it is still to this day still the greatest pain I have ever experienced.¡±


    ¡°I will keep that in mind,¡± the Chevalier hummed with pursed lips. ¡°Pray tell, do they hurt?¡±


    Apple waited until his hauberk was completely over his head before responding. ¡°Hurt might not be the correct word. It''s more like they make their existence known to me. I feel them with every movement I make, and every time something brushes past them. They are constant reminders of my own failures.¡±


    ¡°I see... You truly are the oddity of a witan. First you shock me and my men with your desire to do battle up close with your foes, something I originally believed you witan¡¯s loathed. Now I see you are covered in enough scars to make the most grizzled veteran feel naked by comparison. Pray tell, are you a normality in your homeland?¡±


    Apple draped his cloak over his shoulders and fastened it around himself, making sure the steel broach attached to its strings was proudly displayed. He was finally finished getting dressed.


    ¡°Am I a normality in my homeland, you ask ¨C m''lord? I¡¯m afraid I am the most normal person you would ever meet there, and that is sadly why I had to leave.¡±


    ¡°I am afraid I do not quite understand, Witan Valet.¡± Sir Warren admitted.


    Apple smiled, ¡°Pray that you never do, m¡¯lord.¡±