Chapter 3: Accused

BOOK 1 CHAPTER 3:

Wind softly blew across the small clearing, rippling the grass like waves. It ruffled the short, brown hair of the youth sitting cross-legged on a large, flat stone. His face was serene, so calm that his presence became part of the natural setting. A bird, catching a bug in mid-air, landed on his knee. Deer, ever cautious, slowly entered the clearing to eat.

Artien’s attention wasn’t on his surroundings. It was deep within. He recalled the recent dream, remembering the feelings and experience. He went back to that foggy, misty place. Back to that small hill to sit and withdraw inside. His mind’s eye now traveled that darkness, searching for that light.

He headed in one direction, floating endlessly. His mind’s eye searched, hoping to find that small flame. He felt it tickle his senses, whispering which way to go. He followed, eventually coming to see a small, tiny spark far off. He pursued it, mindless of time or other matters.

After an endless moment, he was there. The small flame flickered before him. He watched it for a moment, then reached out to it, touching it with his mind. At first he passed right through it. Trying again, remembering that first feeling of connection, of the reason why – he finally touched the flame.

The flame reacted.

Artien’s mind and consciousness was consumed with white light. The flame exploded, pure energy bursting out from within. It reached into the misty space, rushing against and pushing some of the mist back. He felt a heavy, worldly weight lift just a bit lighter. He rode the energy, and it carried him towards the new area in the mist.

The energy bounded back, unable to penetrate the mist further. It carried him away, back towards his mind and body. He had a feeling of nostalgia. The energy was a friend long not seen. It rumbled the suppressed emotions inside, breaking his concentration.

“Haah.”

He exhaled, trying to control his roiling emotions. He sifted through them, trying to understand. Excitement raced along with the energy rushing through his limbs. A comfortable warmth spread, relaxing his muscles. He slowly opened his eyes.

He looked at the scene of nature before him. Birds, deer, squirrels. All were in the clearing with him. The dazzling view lifted his heart. He was free from negative feelings. He laughed, startling the wildlife around him.

He lay back, spreading his limbs out on the flat rock. He let his mind wander, daydreaming. The morning sun’s rays sparkled on the surface of leaves, bark, and grass. The world twinkled before him, beckoning. He enjoyed as that small bit of energy traveled to all corners of his being.

“I’ve finally done it. With this, I can manipulate mana.”

Artien frowned. “Dad probably won’t let me train in force until I can master spells. Those visitors – I better ask dad about them before I train my aura-seeking any further. I need to visit Grandpa’s library too. Hmm..” He pondered.

“Hey! Why are you sleeping?”

Artien sat up, watching Joseph enter the clearing. “I’m not sleeping.”

Joseph stopped before the flat stone. “Don’t tell me you did something new again and didn’t show me!” He crossed his arms and pouted.

Artien shivered in disgust. “Don’t do that. That’s why you can’t get girls.”

“Don’t do what?” Joseph grinned, then climbed atop the stone. He sat across from Artien and became serious. “So, what happened?”

Like so many times before, Artien couldn’t help but tell him everything. He spoke about his dream, aura-seeking, and the flame. He even included his arm’s injury, but omitted the use of force. He felt slightly guilty as he spoke.

“Woah. So you can use magic now then?” Joseph slugged him.

“Ouch. Don’t hit!”

“Stop faking pain. So, when are you going to teach me magic?”

Artien rubbed his arm and sighed. The smithy’s son swung hammers everyday and didn’t even know how strong he was. “I can’t teach it to you. I don’t know exactly how it works. I only know how to get it started.”

Joseph rolled his eyes impatiently. “Come on. Keep pushing me away so much and I’ll kiss you.”

Artien gave him a death glare. “Keep pushing and we’ll never have this conversation again.”

“I’m sorry! I swear, I won’t say it again. At least teach me how to get started!”

How shameless, Artien thought.

“Aura-seeking, you have to learn that first. From what I’ve read, not everyone has the ability to sense mana.”

“Aura-seeking. What is that, exactly?”

“It’s looking within one’s self for that source of mana that you may or may not have.”

“How do I know if I have it?”

“Only a master could tell you that.”

“When will you be a master?”

“Too many questions!” Artien warned. “Enough. You can only try. I only knew I had it thanks to the dreams.”

Joseph pouted again. “Too bad I don’t have a cheat ability like that.”

“That’s disgusting!” Artien stood abruptly.

“Where are you going?”

“Off to do something useful.”

“Wait! Explain more about that aura-seeking!” Joseph begged.

“Read a book!”

Artien ran off towards the farm, escaping as fast he could. It wasn’t fast enough as he nearly tripped on a root as he heard Joseph yelling obscene things ending with, “Teach me to read!”

As he came upon the farm, he noticed his father wasn’t outside yet. He still had some time before his chores. After a split decision, he made a turn and headed towards the village. He skirted the edge as usual, passing by the back of the inn’s kitchen.

“You’re up early.”

“Morning Mr. Greenwood! I’m going to the library.” Artien waved, then sped up.

Mr. Greenwood shook his head. “Weird kid.”

Artien came to the old stone wall at the base of a hill, having to enter the village main from there. He stepped out, quickly taking in who was around. To his relief, there was only a few awake yet. He crossed the center of the village, heading towards the biggest house belonging to his grandfather.

Instead of entering the front, he walked around to the side and entered a store room. An inner door led him inside the house. He went up some back stairs after a short hall to the second floor. A few doors down was the study/library.

He entered quietly, not surprised to see his grandfather sleeping peacefully in a chair next to the fireplace. He rekindled the fire, setting a new log inside. Finished, he looked to the side. Lining an entire wall of the study was, from floor to ceiling, shelves of books. One section of three feet, top to bottom, was filled with books on battle, hand-to-hand combat, wild beasts, treasures, and more. He grabbed one in particular.

A book on the basics of magic. He sat in a nearby chair and read by firelight. Having read it many times, he skipped to the part he needed to review now.

“Ah, aura strengthening.” He read the passage aloud.

“Once an aura has been established – the flame naturally found inside all blessed with the ability to use mana – one should immediately become familiar with the flame. Frequent ‘visiting’ lets the user become intimate with the energy. After frequenting visiting, the user will begin to feel the mana in nature, and in turn, themselves. Mana naturally accumulates inside the bodies of living things through inhaling and exhaling the mana in the air.

A fair warning – never should a user touch the flame before a master of magic acknowledges they are ready. Without preparing the body and mind before hand through exercise and meditation, the abrupt flow of mana through the body could have permanent damage.”

Artien sat back, feeling a chill. Earlier he had touched the flame. Although there was no pain or damage – what if there had been? He could have been crippled. Just the thought sent a tingle down his spine. He’d been too careless. This time, he’d make sure to read everything first. He looked at the book and continued reading.

“Once a master acknowledges the strengthening is complete, the user can then move to manipulating the mana outside the body: the forming of a spell. Once a spell is cast, the user has entered into the Student Tier, Level 1.”

Artien frowned, thinking back. “Tiers?” He flipped through back to the beginning of the book. Near the front he found an entry on magic levels.

“Novice – 1st Level: A student of mana who studies magic philosophy and theories, but doesn’t put it into practice. They may practice aura-seeking.

Novice – 2nd Level: A student who has successfully completed aura-seeking and found their mana flame.

Novice – 3rd Level: A 2nd level novice who has completed aura-strengthening and can fully control the mana in their body.

Student – Level 1: A novice enters into the advanced stage after successfully casting their first spell.”

“I guess this doesn’t count force.” He mumbled to himself, remembering the powerful punch that nearly destroyed his arm. “Right, magic only for a magic book.”

If it counted force into the levels, he would have skipped all the way to the first level of the student tier. Without the daily training his father put him through, as well as a solid understanding of his own body, his arm would have been blown clean off. He was lucky that he didn’t. Force was not something he would be idly messing with until he became stronger. However, magic used mana from the surroundings. Thus, he decided to train in that first.

He closed the book, returning it to the shelf. Taking another quick glance at his grandfather, he smiled and retreated back outside. He walked slower than normal while he pondered over the contents of the book. He made it to the edge of the village towards his home when a most unwelcome voice was heard.

“Look who it is! I haven’t seen your face in a while. Been hiding?” A young voice sneered.

Artien closed his eyes, sighed, then turned and faced him. “Hello, Tom.” He spotted the lackeys behind Tom. “Stephen. Wesley.” He crossed his arms. “What do you want?”

“It’s not what I want,” Tom smirked, opening his arms wide, “it’s what everyone wants.”

“This again?” Artien rolled his eyes. “Can’t you come up with something new? It’s always the same old, same old.”

“You!” Tom punched fist in hand. “It’s the same because you just don’t get it! Let us remind you again. Stephen, Wesley!”

Both boys grinned, surrounding Artien from three sides. Artien lowered his arms, forming fists. Since they were six, for some reason Tom had it out for him. Tom threw a punch, forcing Artien to dodge. As he did, a blow came from his right to his ribs.

Artien tried stepping away from it, only to get kicked in the knee from behind. He fell, kneeling. A blow from Tom’s fist to his face knocked him to all fours. The three stopped, laughing at him as he gasped and spit out blood. Even so, he felt no urge to fight back.

“What’s this? Still have no spine? What happened to that arm of yours?” Tom grabbed the wrapped arm, squeezing and twisting it high. “Hah, did you hurt yourself tending the fields?” He pulled it higher, forcing Artien to stand. “You’re poor father and poor mother. They probably are beside themselves with regret, having something like you for a son.”

“Your father, a retired, failed soldier. Your mother, an ungrateful woman. A fit family of swine.”

“You leave my parents out of this.” Surprisingly, Artien felt some anger bubble up. He didn’t know why, but he’d about had enough of it. Enough of being pushed around. He had as much right to walk around than anyone else.

Tom laughed. “What, you’re going to fight back?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Artien whipped his arm away, throwing a punch straight at Tom’s face. He felt his muscles expand, his hand snapping loosely against Tom’s cheek. The force of the punch threw Tom off-balance. He fell to his butt, a hand going to his face as he looked at Artien in disbelief.

He pointed at Artien, “Y-y-you! How dare you!” He stood up, still clutching his face. “Get him! Beat him!” He screeched.

Wesley and Stephen simultaneously jumped him from behind. They each grabbed an arm. Tom stood, his face swelling on one side as he came forward and punched Artien back. Artien took the blow, feeling a slight force behind it. He looked back at Tom in the eye, understanding just the difference that moving mana through the body created.

Tom proceeded to punch him in the face and stomach. Artien took each blow, slowly becoming elated at how strong he’d become. He gasped, feeling a strong urge, a jubilation. He opened his mouth, laughing at the very thought that Tom couldn’t touch him.

Tom stepped back, confused and uncertain. “What the hell?” Stephen and Wesley, feeling something off, released their holds. “Why are you laughing?”

“Haha, you can hit me all day and it won’t hurt.” Artien laughed in their faces.

Tom stepped back. “I thought you were hurt!”

Artien looked at his wrapped arm in surprise. “So did I.”

“You – what are you?” Tom stammered, retreating. “You stay away from me!” He turned tail and ran. His lackeys followed close behind.

“That ended rather well.” He shrugged, heading back towards the farm.

#

Greenwood Inn.

Pointed ears shifted slightly, suspicious eyes narrowing. “Shh!”

The table quieted, all focus turning to the elf. The party waited patiently, used to their leader’s odd demands. They saw him move his ears, clearly listening in on something outside. They placed their hands on their weapons. They relaxed only when their leader put a hand out to stop them.

Outside, Tom, Stephen, and Wesley were all complaining about their defeat. Tom walked up to a tree behind the inn and punched it. He shook his hand, rubbing his face. “That little shit! When did he get so strong?”

Stephen and Wesley looked at each other before offering their opinions.

“Isn’t his dad a retired soldier?” Stephen offered.

“I bet his dad trained him.” Wesley nodded.

“Doesn’t that mean he was holding back this whole time?!” Tom hissed, rubbing his face. The other two could see a faint bruise already forming on his face. “He’s been making a fool of me. He’s probably back at home laughing at how stupid I am.”

“What can we do? He’s stronger than all three of us.” Stephen asked.

Tom paused, thinking. “I know some dirt on him. We can use that. But when and how… we’ll have to wait for an opportunity.”

Wesley panicked, “So we can’t get him back right now?!”

Tom sneered. “Not yet. We’ll wait a little. When the time comes, just back me up.”

The other two nodded as they followed Tom away from the inn.

Back inside the inn, the elf lowered his hand, allowing the others to question him. He only received a single question.

“Orders, Sir?” Asked a bearded man clad in heavy armor with a giant, double-headed axe on his back.

“It seems there may be a demon spawn here. Send word to the old man to gather everyone to the center of the village tonight.”

“Sir!” One mercenary with a sword at his side left the table.

“Are we going to see something interesting, Sir?” A third, lithe mercenary asked.

“Perhaps.” A soft smile curved the elf’s fair face.

#

Artien sat at the edge of the farm, meditating and learning the feeling of mana. He mentally guided the mana through his body, becoming more familiar as it reached his fingers and toes. It flowed easily, like a small stream that could split and rejoin at will. He became so intent on the mana, he began to flow with it, becoming further a part of the mana in himself and that around him.

Suddenly, something moved nearby, pushing through the mana forcefully. Artien sunk back into his body, looking to find one concerned womanizer. “What’s wrong?”

“Artien! Phew. You’re always somewhere different. It gets harder and harder to find you.” Joseph panted. “I just got word from my dad that everyone’s to gather at the village square. Supposed to be something the elf requested.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Elves protect humans, right? This guys got a mercenary group with him, too. You don’t think something bad is going to happen…” Joseph trailed off, uncertain.

“Hopefully not. Anyways, we better get going. Once we’re there we’ll know.” Artien stood, regretting having to leave that peaceful meditation.

“What about your parents?”

“I’ll get them. You go on ahead.” Artien said over his shoulder as he waved Joseph off and headed towards the house.

Joseph shrugged, sighed, and started jogging back to not miss anything.

Artien headed inside, finding his parents busy getting supper ready. They saw his expression and immediately stopped.

“Arty, what’s wrong?” His mother asked.

“Everyone’s gathering at the village.”

George frowned. “Did your Grandfather request this?”

“It was the elf.”

George’s frown deepened. “We can’t refuse an elf’s request. It’s akin to breaking the law. We have to go.”

“Let us go then and be back quick. I’m sure you’re both hungry.” Anabelle said.

George nodded and they all left for the village square. Once they arrived, Artien saw his grandfather standing with the elf. Joseph spotted him and came to his side and whispered.

“Nothing’s been said. They waited until everyone is here.”

“Shh! Looks like he’s going to talk now.”

The quiet chatter and whispers died down as Old Joe raised his hand. “Thank you everyone for gathering. Mister Silvergrain has something important to say. Please listen carefully.”

Redflame looked at the crowd, his cold appearance making many of them shiver. Suddenly the exciting visit of an elf and band of mercenaries seemed… incredibly dark. The setting sun cask dusk shadows, giving a foreboding atmosphere. Everyone wondered, just exactly why were they all called there?

“As you all are well aware, I am an elf. We elves pride ourselves in our work under command of the esteemed Blackrock Highstream. Does anyone here know exactly what work we elves do?” Seeing no answers, he continued.

“We keep the peace. Whether it’s quelling nefarious beasts or brutish rabble like thieves and murderers. We also hunt the most dangerous adversary the kingdom has ever seen. Demons.”

Redflame nodded slightly as the crowd gasped at his words.

“I have come this way tracking one such demon. This demon has destroyed towns and villages much like yours. It has laid waste to the land, burning and destroying everything in it’s path. Only an elf tutored in many years of magic can track and slay such a foe.”

He paused, showing concern as he glanced among the crowd. “Luckily I have come to you before the beast. Yet, this is strange. How have I completely passed such a monster without a trace of anything damaged or lives lost? Had it successfully fled my grasp?”

One man piped up, Farmer Zachary and father to Wesley. “Good Sir, are we safe?”

Another, a woman, also asked in a trembling tone, “Is it going to come here?”

Reflame raised his hands, calming the questions. “I will tell you all now. As I am here, I will not let this beast go unpunished. This is not the first time a demon has skipped remote villages. Over the years, we elves have learned why this is.”

“Why? Why did it skip us?!”

“This, it is to ensure the survival of it’s offspring!” Redflame raised his words.

A vague sense of doom hit the villagers. One woman fainted into her husband’s arms while another clutched her children closely. A clamor broke out. Artien’s arm was suddenly gripped by his father, who quickly lowered to his ears.

“No matter what happens, you must not use Force. Do you understand?”

“Dad?”

His dad shook his arm, tightening his grip until it was painful. “Answer me!” He whispered harshly.

“I understand.” Artien’s heart sped up, seeing the sudden change in his usually stoic father. Their eyes turned to the elf again.

“Everyone, calm down!” Old Joe yelled. “Mister Redflame is still speaking!”

Redflame nodded at the village elder in appreciation. He turned back to the crowd. “This offspring, this demon spawn, is the reason I requested you all gather here. It is possible that one among you is this demon spawn. I will need everyone’s cooperation to figure out who it is!”

Everyone clamored again, slightly parting from each other. They looked at each other’s families, hoping it wasn’t one of their own.

Anabelle grabbed Artien’s hand, squeezing tightly. He looked up and saw her pale face.

“Quiet!” Old Joe yelled again. “There must be quiet! This is a trying, uncertain time for us all. I am sure Mister Redflame will know how to find the demon spawn!”

His words making sense, the crowd went silent, waiting for Redflame’s next words.

“I will ask a few questions. Based on the answers, it will be easy to see who the demon’s child is.”

Redflame nodded to his men, who encircled the crowd. “Do not worry. This is merely an extra measure to make sure the spawn does not escape.”

“Firstly, has there been an strange goings-on? Such as beasts being killed in the night, but not eaten? Or people going missing without trace over the last few years?”

No body spoke.

“In this case it has not awakened into maturity as a demon. It may still show human aspects. Has anyone here noticed any strong mana fluctuations?” He frowned at the crowd. He turned to Old Joe. “Is no one here knowledgeable in mana?”

“Ah, perhaps just one. My son-in-law. He is a retired soldier.” Old Joe looked at George directly. “Come, George! Quickly tell Mister Redflame what he needs to know.”

George pushed Artien behind him as he passed, muttering, “Stay in the back.”

He came to the front of the crowd, before Redflame. “What exactly is it you would know?”

Redflame scrutinized him. “You’re a retired soldier?”

“Yes. I worked under the capital’s main force for three decades.”

“How familiar are you with mana?”

“I was proficient in Force until an injury forced me to retire.”

“I see,” Red flame said. He contemplated, then asked, “Have you seen magic?”

George shook his head. “I was not near the training area for that. I did, however, feel the changes in the mana as magic was used. I can confirm that that has not occurred here since I’ve lived here. Not in the last fifteen years.”

“Thank you. That is all I will ask of you.” Redflame dismissed.

George returned to his family’s side. They all waited for the next question.

“With that answered, it is clear the demon spawn is still a child. It will age the same as humans. All of the adults here are cleared of doubt. All that remains is to clear the children until the spawn is found. All the children step forward!” He motioned to his men. “Will the mothers and fathers please step away from the children. This is to prevent interference for your care of them. I promise, no harm will come to them if they are human.”

Artien slowly made his way forward. His mother’s hand lingered, then released him. His father said nothing as they too stepped back. He mingled at the back of the crowd, feeling slight comfort as Clare and Joseph joined his side.

Redflame addressed the terrified children. “Do not fear. I will prevent any harm to you. Simply follow my lead and I will find this spawn amongst you.” He nodded as he had their full attention.

“Alright. Raise your hands if you were born and raised in the village.” Every hand shot up. “You may lower your hands. I take it this means none of you moved here recently?” Silence.

“Now comes the hard part.” He made contact with each of their eyes. “You must tell me the truth. No repercussions will occur. There will be no consequences.” He waited for confirmation. With none coming forward, he asked, “Do you all understand?” Some nodded and he smiled.

“Good. Now, as children like to play with each other, has anyone noticed anything strange about another? Nothing different, or new?” No hands were raised, no words were said. The children looked at each other suspiciously.

“Come now, speak up. Does anybody have anything at all? Surely there was something? Even a little thing?” Redflame scanned the young crowd.

A hand raised up, slowly and unsteady. Redflame’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you there! What is it? Tell the truth now!”

“I-I know someone that might be the demon spawn!” A terrified voice plead.

“Yes, yes! Who is it! Don’t be afraid and point them out.” Redflame urged.

The hand fell in one direction, a finger pointing. The crowd parted, and a voice said, “H-him!”

All eyes turned on the subject in fear and terror. The crowd quickly backed away, giving all a clear view. The owner of the finger too looked at the figure, not in fear or terror, but animosity. None picked up on his hatred as he directed the attention.

“He’s the one!”

Artien felt his heart stop in his chest as the finger pointed at him. He knew, at this time, his happy life had come to a screeching halt.