Episode 5: Young Trials

  Chapter 16 - Trials to Come

  Many days had passed for the four travelers. Because of a custom bulk order from a royal family, they carried only a handful of weapons.

  The first day had been simple enough: the smith forged quick pieces, the travelers hauled them to RrodKa, and the smith returned to his forge for another batch as requested. So by the time the travelers returned, they could leave with the pre-made materials.

  But the journey itself was less kind. They left before dawn and trekked for hours through the dense wilderness. And normally, they would not return to their nation until tomorrow afternoon.

  Orders like these from RrodKa earned them a guard detail from PortThorioh, which was meant to protect both men and cargo. Not that there was much danger aside from the suspicious eyes of the Groggins. But still, theft and brigandry in these parts could happen, especially if bandits or thugs were able to survive here.

  “Magic is our bodyguard now, isn’t it?” Jorrin said, glancing at the twelve armored men encircling him and his friends. The four of them carried the weapons, though Denrick bore the heaviest load. His leather bag bulged, and he was already sweating, bent forward to spare his back. A few nights earlier, he’d wasted coin drinking in a nearby inn, swapping tales with other commissioned travelers working for rival families in RrodKa. But the main reason was for getting on the sensitive side of Vask, hence why his load was easier than the rest.

  Panting, Denrick wiped his brow. “Hey, you all, how about giving me a hand? My boys are mad enough I didn’t invite them along.”

  “Unfortunately, that is not part of the protocols, sir,” one of the frontmen replied. “We do only as ordered.”

  Most of the armored escort knew nothing of the wilderness. Jorrin and his friends led with words and signs, guiding the way. The nations’ uneasy diplomacy forbade PortThorioh from so much as touching their weapons.

  “I wonder if our kings know about the magic surging through the wilds,” Alrik muttered. “It’s getting worse.”

  While the conversation started, a few of the guards turned their heads. They caught something.

  “Worse?” Denrick said with a grin. “I think it’s kind of cool. Stop bothering the trees, and maybe they’ll stop bothering you.”

  “I’m not trying to, idiot—” Alrik started, but then he too turned aside. His words died, his attention joining with the guards.

  “Anyway,” Jorrin said after some period of silence, “this is our last delivery. Once we drop these off, we have to return these men safely. After that, we can rest until next month.”

  “Hopefully before the next monthly tournament,” Vask panted, “they will change this damned protocol to make things very exhausting—”

  He stopped mid-breath, eyes fixed beside him.

  “I’m with you, Vask,” Jorrin said. “Three days wasted. A day and a half escorting, a day and a half returning—”

  “Shh. Wait,” Denrick interrupted.

  Everyone had gone quiet, staring to their right.

  Beneath the hush came a sound, distant but heavy, like the land itself growling. They froze.

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  Somewhere not too far came a deep rumble and a deep hum. The mixture of sounds felt resonant and strange, something the wilderness never made. This weight carried through the air was something you’d feel in your bones first before you even register what it was. When Jorrin brought the cue, everyone caught themselves in that low rumble, drawn to this unusual surge of energy.

  “What is that?” Jorrin whispered. The trees were too thick to reveal the source.

  “Let’s just go home,” Alrik urged, his voice tight.

  But while most stood in place to leave, Jorrin and a few guards crept toward the sound. Vask ran behind with Denrick picking up the pace that he never had from the start of their journey.

  “G–guys?!” Alrik hissed, but his warning was ignored. He cursed under his breath, “Oh, man…” and hurried after them.

  They crouched low behind the treeline, peering through the twisted bramble. And that was when they saw something strange, almost unbelievable.

  A little boy, a literal child, hung upside down from a thick branch. His knees locked around the limb, body trembling. But that wasn’t the strangest thing. No, the strangest thing was what the boy was holding with his Telekinetic Magic.

  It floated in midair, a massive slab of stone, the size five men would struggle to roll alone. Stopping it from falling? That was unheard of among the average, healthy man. Yet there it hung, suspended just feet above the forest floor, carried by this child. The boy’s hands shook with effort, and the magic held.

  “What in the…” Vask breathed, stunned. The armored men stared too, their eyes reflecting the shimmering rays. Captivated by those delicate threads of gold, even Alrik needed a moment to process what he was seeing after he caught up with them.

  Jorrin crouched lower. “W–what? You’re seeing this, right?”

  “Uh, why are we hiding?” Denrick whispered. “Give me a sec…”

  Taking the chance, Denrick dropped his bag with a grunt and slumped against the ground, wheezing, eyes locked on the impossible sight.

  Denrick tilted his head, saying between breaths. “Hey, he’s just a kid. You know, I think it’d be better if we just go and talk to—”

  “Just a kid?” Jorrin cut in, sharp. “Do you not see what he’s doing? You know any child in RrodKa who can do… this?”

  Denrick faltered. “Uh… point taken.”

  The group went quiet again. The boy dropped from the branch with a grunt. He staggered and panted, but his focus never wavered. Gold light still flickered in his palms as he approached the boulder. He got there to pick up the hare that was trapped in his magic.

  “A hare?” Vask questioned. “He did all that for… that thing?”

  His face was innocent, almost ordinary. But those hands pulsing with raw magic told another story. It was power, a quiet, dangerous power. Jorrin’s jaw locked as the truth settled over him.

  Alrik finally broke the silence. “That’s raw control… Even trained mages need a medium. If that’s his adaptation, it’s on par with the Armiton forces.”

  “Uh,” one of the guards muttered, “this will draw attention. We should move. Now.”

  Jorrin rose slowly, face pale. “We need to report this.”

  “To whom?” Denrick asked, following after him while grabbing the hefty bag again.

  “To the officials. To the kings. And the marshal; she is the head of the military branch.”

  Alrik’s eyes widened. “Marshal Thallion? She’s gone. And do you really want her to get involved? She has more important things to focus on, if she ever comes back.”

  “Or we could just bring him back ourselves,” Denrick offered. “Doesn’t seem like he’s with anyone. Besides, he may be gone by the time others go searching for—”

  Jorrin pushed Denrick’s chin shut with a firm hand. “Please don’t do this,” Jorrin said, desperate with his absurd dreams. “Let’s just have them do the work… I’m doing this for money and to find a woman, not some… whatever jumbo we’re seeing. Also, better to give him to them than someone worse.”

  They turned and began to hurry back down the trail. No more banter or jokes were tossed around them—just the rush of boots quickly heading to the nation of Strength with a new secret in their tongues, and a wheezing Denrick. A story eager to spill for the officials back home:

  There is a dangerous boy in the wilderness.

  Behind them, the glow dimmed. The forest closed in. Silence reclaimed the land.

  End of Episode 5