Book 1: Chapter 15

Cyil thought his grandpa should have a reason for not appearing and eager to see his mother, Cyil confidently followed Betsy into the house.

“Take a seat and we’ll talk.” Betsy offered Cyil a wooden stool and pulled out another one for herself.

Cyil looked around the empty hut and felt something was off. Although the hut was clean, it lacked the energy and colorfulness he remembered.

“Betsy...where’s my mom?” Cyil gazed at the calmly seated Betsy and began to get even more worried.

“As I said, sit and we’ll talk.” Betsy carefully observed the man’s reaction and was now certain he was Cyil Cintu. His look of disbelief and manner of speech was similar to the one she remembered; still, that didn’t explain his disappearance or earth shattering transformation.

Cyil obediently sat on the stool and said nothing.

“Cyil, I have something to tell you. Please listen, okay?” Betsy wanted to tell Cyil what had really happened, lest he hears the rumor from the townsfolk.

Taking in a deep breath Betsy began.

“On the day where the soldiers returned home, your father along with some others did not return. You were so shocked that you fainted. At first everyone thought you were going to wake up soon but then days passed by and you never did. On the 8th day of your sleep you were taken away by the commander for treatment in the royal capital. We heard nothing from you or about your recovery for 3 years and despite your mother reassuring us that you would be fine, we were still worried.

And our worries became reality. Two years ago, the commander returned and told your mother of your death. Mundo, Sigesar and I were there so we heard it, too. Everyone was devastated but no one moreso than your mother. We had all accepted and expected your death but your mother never once believed it and so the news hurt her the most.”

When Betsy got to this point she paused and waited for Cyil to take in all the information. Cyil sat still as a statue, petrified and sadden. His heart throbbed and he could only imagine the pain news of his death had brought to his mother.

“Then, things became even worse…” Betsy continued her story, telling Cyil of his mother’s absentmindedness and eventual disappearance. Betsy left out the parts about the townsfolk ignoring Cyil’s mother and about their treatment of Betsy. She tried to make everything as clear as possible for the Cyil who had a blank stare.

After Betsy finished her side of the story, Cyil got off the stool and onto his knees, prostrating himself in front of Betsy.

“Wah what,” Betsy quickly scrambled out of her stool trying to raise the man. “What are you doing Cyil? Are you okay? I know this is a lot to take in but let’s talk about it.”

“Thank you Betsy. Thank you for taking care of my mom. I can’t thank you enough.” Cyil slammed his head on the ground.

Betsy exclaimed at the sight and shrieked. She hadn’t expected the man do that; unable to think of any words to stop Cyil, Betsy embraced him.

“Please stop, Cyil. Don’t hurt yourself. Your mother would be sad to see you hurt yourself.”

Cyil shuddered under Betsy’s embrace and he began to cry.

…

That night, Betsy and Cyil stayed up to talk about their old memories and to catch up on what Cyil had missed since he’s been gone. They rekindled their old childhood friendship. Cyil remembered everything as if it was just yesterday, untainted by time, whereas Betsy recalled only bits and pieces of their happiest times.

Cyil didn’t say much about his mother, only stating that he would find her because she was definitely still alive. Betsy didn’t ask of push him on that, but she did give Cyil something.

“I found these when I moved into the house.” Betsy offered up some aging parchment papers along with an odd-looking beastskin bag. By now Betsy had told Cyil about how the townsfolk had treated her and how she had come to reside in Cyil’s home. Of course, she didn’t tell him about the scamming people part, for fear he might judge.

“This is my mom’s writing,” Cyil glanced at the papers then carefully placed the parchment papers inside of the beastskin bag. “Thank you again Betsy.”

“Don’t mention it,” Betsy waved away Cyil’s 542nd thank-you of the day.

“I don’t know how to read so I don’t know what it says but I’m glad it’s in the right hands now,” Betsy added. “So you don’t remember anything at all and was in a deep sleep for 5 years? Then when you woke to find a kind grandpa who took care of you and who brought you back? Also, the grandpa left after getting you to Fayburn...”

Betsy found the whole thing unbelievable and a little suspicious but as she saw the smiling and nodding man she just shrugged.

Cyil remembered what Baccaus told him and left out all the details including magic and mages. Cyil was not worried that Betsy would cause him harm but he feared that if he told her, she might have even more reason to question his stated identity.

“Alright then, tomorrow let’s go find Mundo and Sigesar! I really want to see them.” Cyil still felt a gnawing ache in his heart but he looked forward to seeing his old friends before he started training with Baccaus.

“Okay,” Betsy smiled, deciding to tell Cyil about Sigesar tomorrow. He’d already gotten too much news for one day, she thought.

“It’s getting late so let’s sleep. I want to sleep next to the window.” Cyil walked towards the bed, sat down, and patted his old sleeping spot. Cyil would always sleep with his mother because they only had a single bed.

“Com’on Betsy, you can sleep in mom’s place!” Cyil waved for Betsy to come over, but she just stood there.

The blushing Betsy sighed at Cyil’s innocence. “Cyil, you little brat. Don’t you know it’s not proper-”

Lightning Judgement!

A thunderous roar was accompanied by a flash of light.

Where Betsy previously stood was now a pile of blackened soot with the moonlight shining on it through the enormous hole in the hut…

…

Previously that afternoon.

“This is interesting, good luck Cyil boy-o.” Baccaus chuckled to himself. Then his smile froze.

One. Two. Three. Eight. Baccaus felt eight different mage presences heading straight towards him. These auras were all familiar to him. They all belonged to the various heads of esteemed guilds on Nakrul. The Black Hand, ranked 18th in Nakrul. Lonely Gale, ranked 23rd. Mystic Veil, ranked 9th. Inferno Death, ranked 17th. Dusty Earth, ranked 24th. Raging Flames, ranked 13th. Yellow Sands, ranked 15th. Glory’s End, ranked 17th.

All the guild leaders of these groups were filled with killing intent and heading towards Baccaus at a quick pace.

It should be noted that Nakrul had countless guilds. However, only the top 1000 guilds are listed and officially recognized. A guild’s strength and ranking is determined with many factors: their numbers, the strength of their strongest individual, their connections or backing, their influence in the kingdoms, and other such factors. Thus, these guild leaders coming after Baccaus were no ordinary characters.

Baccaus sighed at the persistency of these guild leaders and silently excused himself, so as not to alert Cyil. Baccaus had already given Cyil a grade 7 defensive magical equipment but disguised it as plain clothing; with the defensive equipment on Cyil there should be nothing in the town that can harm him. This reassurance allowed Baccaus to leave Cyil alone for a while.

Baccaus took a step and disappeared from the crowd of people and reappeared on the edges of the forest. He waited a bit for the presences to catch onto his position then he took another step and appeared deep within the forest.

Looking around the mossy ground, Baccaus found a fallen tree to sit on. He sat humming to himself and thinking of the best ways to train Cyil. He laughed when he thought of what he had in store for Cyil.

After Baccaus finished humming three songs, eight figures appeared, surrounding the relaxed Baccaus.