I woke to the singing birds through the cracked window. The morning sun hadn't reached it yet, so my vision wasn't blinded yet, but there was enough light for me to make out my surroundings much more clearly now. I groaned as I shifted in the bed, sitting up. I took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling the magic crackle through my fingers. Grandfather had left me much: his estate, his fortune, and, most importantly, his incredible magic. My father didn't inherit anything from the old man. It seems that magic likes to skip a generation. I didn't question it as I was growing up. I was wrong, however, my father did inherit being a deadbeat from my grandfather. He signed up for the Royal Military, hiding his lineage from everyone, or so I was told by Grandfather. Something about not wanting to be treated differently: foolishness in my eyes; we were the descendants of the most extraordinary man to have walked these lands. It's only right that we be treated like royalty. I never understood why Grandfather agreed with my father's decision. He died a lowly foot soldier of a pointless war.
"Righteous del curo," I muttered the words of the healing spell my grandfather taught me when I began my apprenticeship under him. Those days seemed far behind me. My hands glowed with a brilliant light, and I touched my body. Sparks of magic started dancing across my body, patching up my broken form.
"Good mor-" Analise stopped dead in her tracks as she saw what was happening in the room, dropping the tray of food she had brought in with her. The look of shock on her face wasn't a surprising one to me. I muttered a curse as the tray clattered.
"What- What is going on?" She stuttered the words out. "You know magic?"
That facade had ended, but my cover wasn't entirely blown yet. "Yes, that's why I didn't die from my wounds yesterday. I saved myself from the worst of it shortly after I received my injuries."
"So you planned to fix yourself, then leave without a trace?" I could hear her temper rising.
"Well, I think I would have been like how before you patched me up for a bit longer before I could summon the energy needed to heal myself completely," I said, swinging my legs off the bed. "So, thank you for that. It helped me immeasurably."
"You still didn't answer my question, Justin." Her voice was getting louder.
"Not completely without a trace. There's something I need to find while I'm in this town. But yes, the overall plan was to walk out of here without saying goodbye," I said, walking towards my ripped clothes. "Repario," I brought my hands to the fine silks and mended them. I started getting dressed.
"How much magic do you know?" She said her voice was softening.
"Well, enough to defend myself and to make sure I don't die," I said, pulling my trousers on. This was not ideal. I wanted to leave without being stopped. "I trained under him, if that is what you were wondering."
"You trained under Thyme? How? He disappeared-"
"And faded into legend. Yes, I'm aware. However, Thyme did leave clues to find him if someone wanted to find him that badly." I finished her sentence and told her a half-truth. My grandfather did, in fact, leave clues so he could be found. I had seen several apprentices come and go as I grew up. Some grasped the nature of his teachings at a glance.
"Is he still-"
"Alive? No, the old codger kicked the bucket about a decade ago. I was his last apprentice. I was there the night he died." I finished dressing and turned towards Ana, who was now sitting on the bed.
"I had hoped to meet him someday and thank him for how he treated my grandma." She whispered. I sighed and sat down next to her and put my arm around her shoulder.
"He didn't suffer. He often said my apprenticeship would end when he passed. Now, his estate lies empty." I said as she leaned into me.
"So you plan to find whatever you're looking for and be on your way?" She said, wiping a tear from her eyes. I sighed inwardly; this girl had never met the man, and she was acting as if a family member had died. I didn't get this emotional when he passed.
"That's the plan. The old man left me some books, and I need to find them and be on my way." I said, releasing her from my hold.
"Could you not talk about our hero like he's some old geezer? It's disrespectful to his legacy." Her annoyance was made clear. She obviously held my grandfather in high regard.
"Disrespectful to his legacy?" I chuckled. "Honey, you only know a fraction of what he's done. Yes, he's a hero to this town and to this land, but the old man could travel between realities. I've read the journals he kept from his travels, and they don't paint him in the greatest light. Like during his early years, he set a ship full of innocent people on fire to keep the fact that he was a magic user hidden." I countered. I read the journals after he passed, and I was most impressed with the old man's exploits as a young man. He was ruthless and uncaring, and he didn't let anything stand in his way.
"Then, when he gained the power to walk between worlds, he treated them as his playthings for a long time—not caring who he hurt. Yes, he eventually felt sorry for all the wrong he caused, but that doesn't mean it was undone. He started helping folks instead of hurting them, saving the day rather than ruining it. But the old man was always a womanizer. Broke countless hearts in his travels, including your grandmother's."
"Get out," she muttered.
"What?"
"GET OUT!" She yelled. I was taken aback and inwardly smirked. She was confronted with the truth about him and didn't like it. I nodded my head and walked out of the room. The house proper wasn't anything to speak of, just a long hallway with a couple of doors attached, with the kitchen entrance not having one. I stepped out into the morning light with a grin on my face. Today was going to be a good day.
I looked around at the small village and frowned. This town is where my grandfather's quest started;1 the place where my quest starts? I sighed, hearing some children laughing in the distance. The whelps that saved me, I guessed. I shrugged, knowing that I would run into them eventually. I saw the statue of my grandfather in the distance and sighed—such a lavish thing for such a small town. I headed over to where it was, and I got some weird looks along the way. These peasants must have known about the odd patient of Analise's, and to see him already walking will only add to her legend.
I stood before the statue and saw who had commissioned it: Tobias Fate. I sighed as it was another alias of my grandfather. He really was a prideful, smug sonofabitch. The writing on the base of the statue read, "In Honor of the man who appeared and gave hope to the hopeless and faith to the faithless." I scowled at it and kicked the statue's base. A shooting pain ran up my foot and leg when I connected with it. However, it didn't sound solid. It was hollow. I smirked as I found the first hiding spot. I crouched down and inspected the base more thoroughly. There looked to be a seam on the inscription itself. Now to find the button. I scanned the writing and saw what looked like a button in the first "o" of "Honor". I smirked at it and started to reach for the button.
"You've recovered a lot faster than we had bet on." I heard a voice behind me say. I scowled, put on a fake smile, turned around, and saw Gregory and Breanan standing there.
"She's a miracle worker, alright. I honestly had bet on you not making it through the night," Gregory said. Breanan hit him with his elbow.
"Ya don't tell him that. I knew you would live. If you survived this oaf dropping you, then you could survive the poking and prodding of Lise." Breanan chuckled.
"Sorry about that, by the way," Gregory said quietly.
"It's fine. I'm alive. Thank you for bringing me to Analise. She definitely helped immensely. Your village is lucky to have her." I said, standing. I wanted to be left alone to grab the book and be on my way.
"So how long do you plan on staying in town?" Breanan asked me.
"Maybe a day or so. I didn't plan on arriving in the first place. I want to get back to my home as soon as possible." I said, trying not to give them anything that might reveal my identity.
"Well, if you need a room for the night, I'm sure Lise will let you stay in the patient room again." He smiled warmly at me.
"Thanks, but I don't want to impose on her too much. She's already done more than enough for me." I averted my gaze. I wasn't lying when I said she's done more than enough.
"That's fair, friend. We have a tavern with rooms to rent. So that's always an option." Breanan offered, "If you do stay there, be sure to mention that I sent you. It'll get me a free drink."
There it was: that classic human selfishness I had come to understand. If I were to stay at this tavern, this man would benefit. I inwardly scowled at him, resisting the urge to slay him where he stood for such a transgression.
"Thanks, I'll be sure to do that," I faked a smile at him. I would forget to mention him when I booked the room. I turned back towards the statue.
"My father was saved as a little boy by Thyme. Surrounded by a pack of wolves, he was. He was out collecting wood for the fireplace and got lost. Thyme was out gathering herbs for Lisa's great-grandmother and heard him yelling." Gregory said, kneeling before the statue.
"You don't say. Does everyone in this town worship Thyme?" I asked, trying to hide my disgust.
"Well, almost everyone in this town has a story about him. He spent a few weeks here. But Lise's story is by far the most famous. There are even rumors that she's his granddaughter." Breanan replied.
"Yes, she told me pieces of it," I said, looking up at the face of my grandfather. He hadn't met his grandmother yet; even when he did, it was impossible to stop the womanizing altogether. Though from what I heard from her, he always came home to her and worshipped the ground she walked on.
"We usually hold a festival once a year to honor his memory and what he did for this town," Gregory said, standing back up.
"Yes, you just missed it. It happened last week." Breanan said
"What a shame, I'll have to make my way back here next year to catch it," I said. I had no intention of coming back to this backwater town.
"Well, we're off to the fields, Mr…" Gregory started.
"My name is Justin Thomas," I replied. The name fit me for some reason. I didn't like the last name, however. I was going to change it when I arrived somewhere new.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thomas. We both hope to run into you again at the tavern." Breanan said, holding out his hand. I shook it, and then I watched the two men head off.
I turned back towards the statue and kneeled again. I hurriedly pushed the button I found, and the inscription popped open. I smiled and opened the secret compartment. I reached in and felt a cloth sack inside. I blinked and pulled out the bag. I closed the panel and stood up. This was it. I had read in my grandfather's will that he had pieced out my inheritance to the different places he had traveled. I, however, didn't think much of it at the time. Mainly because of the magical abilities I had already been granted. Why would I need such books? I walked over to an alleyway and opened the sack.
Inside were what looked like a smaller bag and a large enough carrying case to hold a book. On the side was a little knob. I pulled out the little bag and found an assortment of coins. I wasn't concerned about paying for things to begin with, but this will help keep up the masquerade. I put the coins in my breast pocket and moved on to the stash's actual prize. I opened the satchel and saw a single book bound in bright red leather. I smiled. I knew what this book was. I had seen it while I was growing up. My grandfather often talked about this spell. He never taught me, and I never figured it out. I turned the knob, and the book disappeared, and an empty slot for another book took its place. I smiled even bigger. This satchel was what my grandfather called his Library. He kept all the books he had found on his journey here.
I turned the knob back and pulled the book out. On the cover was an embossed fire symbol. I opened the cover and read the words on the first page: "Fireball: The complete theory and applications for a wizard's favorite spell." The original author's name was scratched out, and my grandfather wrote his name in its place. I chuckled and shook my head. A typical old man wanted to have all the credit to himself. I closed the book and put it away. There used to be a second copy of this book, but only scraps remained. As I was putting it away, I noticed a slip of paper peeking out from the side. I grabbed it and saw it was an envelope. I tucked the letter in my pocket. I will read it in a bit. The Library now hangs from my side, and the latch was secured. I sighed and stepped out of the alleyway, and I heard yelling coming from down the street.
"Where is the stranger? I need to speak with him." I looked down towards the commotion and saw it was Louis. I groaned, not wanting to deal with him. I turned and started towards the edge of town.
"Justin, Stop." He yelled at me as I hurried, pretending as if I didn't hear him. Though he soon caught up to me, and I couldn't ignore him any longer.
"Hey there, Louis," I said, turning towards him. I had almost gotten out of town and avoided him.
"So, what Ana said was true: you've made a full recovery overnight. " You do know magic," he eyed me suspiciously. "Then what happened afterward is also true." You made my fiancé cry."
I knew what was going to happen next. I was prepared for it. Louis pulled back his arm and threw his fist towards me. I braced for it, and he connected squarely with my gut. I gasped in pain and doubled over.
"Just who are you, because you're definitely not Justin Thomas." He said, pushing me down on the ground. He got on top of me and started connecting blows to my face. I struggled to center myself to cast a spell. With every blow, a new surge of pain brought me out of that mindset.
"Not happening, peasant." I seethed as blood filled my mouth again. I spat what had collected in my mouth in his face and blinded him, giving me just enough time to cast a personal favorite spell of mine.
"Electricio Handismo," I muttered, feeling the sparks of lightning arc from my fingertips. I grabbed his arms and felt the electrical discharge coursing through his body. He reeled back in pain and fell over on his side. I rolled over and lifted myself on my feet, standing over my assailant.
"That's where you belong, fool. In the dirt cowering before your better." I said, dusting off my clothes, "The only reason you're not dead is because of your wench. That is my way of thanking her. I will not be as merciful next time."
"J-just who are you?" he stammered out, struggling to stand. Every time he tried to support his weight with his hands, he fell to the ground.
"If I told you who I truly was, then I would have to kill you, and like I said. Not killing you is my way of gratitude." I spat out more blood, narrowly avoiding Louis's paralyzed form.
"I know who you are now," he muttered, letting his body rest on the ground, "You're that terrible caster that's been plaguing the land of late. I've heard of you, just as you've heard of us. Mathios killed you, though."
"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, peasant. He saw what he wanted to see and didn't check for a body." I knelt to the broken man and smiled, "You know who I am now, you know what I'm capable of, and you know what I have no qualms about wiping this little stain off the map. Now, you will leave me alone and go about your pathetic excuse of an existence, and I will allow this backwater town to live in relative peace." I stood up and stopped myself from kicking him. He learned his lesson, and if he hadn't, then well, the consequences would be dire. I headed towards an alley and cast a healing spell on myself. As the bright light filled the alley, I laughed. It had been too long since I put a peasant in their place. I dusted my clothes off one final time and headed towards the tavern.