Chapter 2

Magic Theory

A young boy sits patiently on a rock at the edge of a waterfall. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows are furrowed, concentrating. Every few moments, little droplets of water would leap up from the river. One, then two, then three. Three tiny drops of water that most ordinary people would guess were merely caused by fish moving beneath the surface of the river. However, if they paid close attention, shimmering tendrils of vapor could be seen rising from the boy's body, flicking the water around him.

The boy took a deep breath and the tendrils retracted themselves into his chest like a clam hiding in its shell.

"Only three today," murmured the boy, looking curiously at the river. A thick head of hair and slender form, this boy was Grey! Six years old! A year had passed since Grey had obtained the first volume of Magic Theory. Grey had initially thought it would be easy to learn how to use magic. In stories, a mage would focus intensely on an image and recite an incantation to cast the spell. In reality, magic had many more levels of operation. Spells were formed using 'aura', a distinct magical energy generated by a person, place, or thing. If one did not have a sufficient 'aura' to begin with they would be unable to cast spells or become a mage.

For the last year, Grey struggled to find a method to strengthen his aura. While the book had detailed instructions on the generation and use of auras, it did not have appropriate training methods for children. The book suggested lifting hundred pound boulders, running miles up a mountain, swimming through fast moving currents. He was only six! He could barely lift some of the heavier tomes in the library, much less a hundred pound boulder. Grey might be ambitious and clever, but he was still limited by his body.

In the end, Grey decided to scale down each training method to his size. Instead of carrying a hundred pound weight Grey would carry his mothers an archival copy of the town’s finances over the last 30 years. Instead of sixteen miles up the mountain he would run the two miles to the waterfall at the edge of town. As for swimming through a fast moving current, Grey settled on just learning how to swim.

After a year, his studies had progressed as he expected. He could create his own aura. At first it was just a small wisp that would flow from his fingertips. Now, with enough concentration, Grey could create a soft breeze to disturb the papers on his father's desk. To the other children who could achieve the same effect with their hands, this feat was rather trivial. But to Grey this was great progress. He knew he was beginning to unlock his potential. A breeze today, a hurricane tomorrow. His future looked bright. He got up to move towards the shade. A familiar, worn book lay at his side. Grey picked it up and began rereading another chapter.

Magic was a mysterious force that came into existence roughly 10,000 years ago. It was believed by the ancients to be a manifestation of god's will upon the world. It was only later, six thousand years ago, that humans discovered that they could harness magic to do their bidding. This era of time was known as the Great Enlightenment, and with it came six competing theories regarding the origins of magic. Grey skimmed the information regarding magic and its formation. What was similar in all six theories was the presence of a ritual known as the Ritual of Awakening which unlocked the individual's ability to cast spells.

Grey sucked on his thumb thoughtfully. No matter how much he searched, this information eluded him. What was is exactly? Was it a special quest? Did it have to be done alone? It was times like these that made him long for the outside world, to journey to one of the mage schools and begin his studies in earnest instead of idling away by the riverside.

Book in his lap, Grey clapped his hands together and again focused on the tingling feeling he associated with his aura. The feeling would grow from his gut, a warm sensation like the kind you get after a good meal, rising up to his lungs, and then out with his breathe. He would exhale and his aura would radiate from his body. He would inhale and his aura would return to nestle in his stomach. He repeated this motion then slowly concentrated on directing it. Moving the aura away from his body and towards the grassy patch ahead.

He exhaled and the grass swayed as if cajoled by a passing wind. What the book did not mention was how exhausted one would feel after using their aura. Grey only managed four small bursts of wind before his eyes drooped and his arms sagged. Under the warmth of the sun, Grey reluctantly sat down and fell asleep, mumbling happily to himself the books' numerous adages under the forest foliage.

~~~

A loud shriek woke Grey from his slumber. He bolted up, looking around only to see three children about his size punching and kicking something by the river.

"Take that monster!"

"Die, monster. Die!"

"Go back to the forest where you belong!"

Grey was finally able to make out what, but not who they were abusing. He could tell it was another child based on the size. All he could see was a pile of rags, crying quietly, hands over their head. This scene made Grey very upset. As a child who wanted to be a hero, how could he let these scoundrels do as they pleased? Even if the child had done something bad, to be called a monster and beaten into the ground was going too far. These villains needed to be punished. Grey puffed out his chest and walked over to the three children.

"Hey! Stop that!" Grey shouted.

The boys looked up and immediately recognized the bookworm.

"Why should I, Grey?" spoke the tallest boy. His foot was still resting on the pile of rags. He wore a plain shirt and overalls. Grey recognized him as the son of the town baker. His companions, a skinny kid with freckles on his face, and a tubby kid with red hair stood at his side. Sons of the tailor and smith.

"Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?"

"You want some?"

"Stop being evil! Even if he did something wrong. You're going too far!"

The tall kid's mouth turned into a grin. "Too far? You hear that?"

The tubby kid chimed in, snickering. "So what? What are you going to do, tell on us?"

The three of them exchanged cruel smirks.

"Who needs to tell on you? If I don't like something I'll handle it myself, like a man. If I don't like you beating people up, all I need to do is stop you."

"Stupid Grey, are you asking for a fight?" said the tall kid. His grin now reflecting more malice than humor.

"Who you calling stupid, stupid?"

The tall kid's expression immediately turned to a scowl. He charged towards Grey, his two friends following his lead. Grey put up his fists as if he were ready for a fight, but then turned around and ran into the forest.

"Haha, stupid is running away."

"Scaredy cat!"

"What happened, chicken legs?"

The three gave chase as Grey dashed through the low hanging tree branches and thick, knotted roots. The forest seemed to come out all at once. A tangled mess of greenery that seemed to move when one wasn't looking. A branch hit the tall kid square in the face, sending leaves fluttering and a red mark on his cheek. Grey watched in amusement, laughing from afar.

"I didn't know you liked kissing trees!"

"Get him!" howled the tall kid, angrily. "And hold him down!"

Skinny nodded and slipped through the forest as deftly as Grey. Grey ducked under another branch and came upon a dried-up riverbed. Rocks piled upon rocks, boulders that used to stem flowing water were now just a hillside of smooth dark stones. Grey quickly scampered up the rocks with ease. Having run around the mountain, he would often come across these dried up rivers and climb them for fun. But for these villains who rarely ventured so far up the mountain, fun would be the last word on their mind.

The skinny kid climbed a third of the way up before his foot stumbled upon a rock, nearly falling backwards. In no time, Grey was already at the top of the mound. The skinny kid's face broadcast his shock and frustration. He couldn't catch up much less run up these stones. The fat kid didn't even try. As soon as he came across the riverside, he took a seat on one of the rocks and waited for the tall kid to come over.

"Get down here!" shouted the tall kid indignantly after he burst through the underbrush. He didn't bother giving Grey the pleasure of watching him try to scale the rocks.

"What did you say? Sorry, I don't speak stupid."

The tall kid looked at Grey angrily and glanced at the skinny kid. The skinny kid shrugged his shoulders and nodded at the rocky path. No way to get to Grey, at least not head on anyway. The tall kid calmed down as began to think of a way up. What was he getting mad for anyway? Didn't this kid say he was going to fight him before running away like coward?

"What kind of man runs away from a fight?"

"The ones that aren't stuuupid," crowed Grey, lying prostrated over a rock. "Besides, I don't even need to fight you anymore. I told you to stop beating up that kid and you stopped. That's a good boy. Should I train you to jump through a hole too, Mr. Doggy?"

"You-"

"Ah, okay. I get it. You want a treat?"

The tall kid's face started turning red. The only thought in his head was beating that smug face into the ground. The tall kid began scaling the hill again, but stopped when the bushes behind him moved. A head peeked out fearfully, freezing upon seeing their tormentors.

Grey's face turned pale.

The tall kid laughed menacingly. "You sure are stupid, but this kid is stupider. What? You forget something? Come let brother see if he can help you out."

"Stop!" shouted Grey. He had hoped the kid had escaped to somewhere safe. Why did he follow them? Grey was now afraid the tall kid might beat him to death now.

The tall kid grinned. "Oh? Did you need some help too? Why don't you come down here and we can talk it out? We're all men here."

"Fine!" said Grey quickly, his hands slipping something behind his back. "But you have to promise not to hurt us."

"Okay. I promise."

Grey made his way down the dried riverbed and walked down to the tall kid. The bully's two friends sat on a rock next to the ragged kid who was shaking.

Before Grey could speak the tall kid grabbed him by his collar and lifted him into the air.

"Now, I got you little punk. I said I wouldn't hurt you, but my friends still want to. Get ready to get your ass han-ergh!?"

The tall kid stuttered incoherently and then fell to the ground, clutching his crotch. Grey landed on all fours. He got up, brushed the dust of his clothes, and looked apprehensively the other two.

"You!" shrieked the skinny kid, lunging at Grey.

Grey pulled out a small stone hidden in his back pocket and threw it, striking the skinny kid's head. Caught off guard, the skinny kid tripped and fell on his face. The fat kid watched this and paused, looking at the rocks below his feet. Grey pulled out more pebbles out of his pocket.

"You think you can pick them up before I hit you?"

The fat kid then shook his head and looked apologetic.

"Okay you win. Let me go? I don't like getting hurt."

"You like hurting others, but you don't like getting hurt?" Anger swelled up in little Grey's heart.

"Sorry?"

Grey's fist trembled with fury.

"Pick up your friends and don't come back here again."

Even though Grey didn't like bullies he wasn't going to sentence them to death. If he told this fatty to get lost and left the other two here a wild beast would probably come out and eat them before they could run away.

The fat kid helped his friends up, slowly making their way back to town. Only when the three deviants were out of sight did Grey relax. The trembling kid finally stopped shaking and walked towards Grey.

"Thank you," said a pretty voice.

"Eh?" said Grey, astonished.

"Sorry," said the kid again. Grey took a closer look at this kid. Behind the bruises on the kid's face and hands; there was something familiar about this kid's hair. Eyes peering through long dark bangs. Ah!! It was the same girl that lent him his book a year ago!