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The Hero's Son wants to be the Demon King (2)
🕑 Added 2024-05-06 21:14:06 +0000 UTCChapter 2
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With knee-high shrubs and bushes hugging the ground, the Ghard farm was full of hiding spots. If he had any talent with magic he could probably hide himself by bending the tree branches toward him. Cursing inwardly, Arahan crept along the shadows cast by the branches; looking like wicked claws reaching out toward him menacingly.
Most farms on the Weiler were simple. A field and a house which served as the living quarters. As it was though, the Ghards were a huge family. There was Old Man Ghard, –everyone called the oldest male of each family ‘old man’ and Arahan’s grandfather was called Old Man Arx– his wife, his three sons and their youngest daughter. The Ghards had built a secondary cottage for their sons many harvests ago and were in the process of building a third one.
“Maybe Gramps was right. The Ghards and the Frederiks might marry their oldest off to each other.” The third cottage would make for a nice start for the two.
Old jealousy came to like a raging inferno from the flickering embers of constant bitterness. Arahan would never wed. Never have a family. Not because no one would take him, though that was true as well. After all the humiliation his family had received plus his manaless disposition, he would not risk having his children inherit the generational curse.
The stable was in sight. Arahan pressed his back to the wooden walls, closing his eyes in concentration and listening for the bleating of livestock.
Mehhh
Bahhh
Arahan stepped quickly, he didn’t want to get caught by the Ghards here. Their oldest son, Rufus wasn’t any bigger than him, but the boy was a Life Mage. Rumor had it that Rufus’ grandfather, old man Ghard from a generation ago, was a Blood Mage and Rufus had inherited that talent. Once Rufus became proficient enough with Life Magic, he might awaken into a Blood Mage.
There were six branches of magic known in the Human Kingdom of Aphludia.
Life Mages whose mana resonated with the very living beings in the continent of Pior. They could tame wild beasts or bring people back from the brink of death.
Mind Mages or Mentalists, who could manipulate thoughts, emotions and dreams. Arahan’s grandmother was a Mentalist, whose talent had blossomed into an Empath; able to sense the emotions of others.
Elementalists, quite possibly the most powerful of the six, wielding either Fire, Earth, Water, Lightning or Wind. Old man Ghard, as well as Gramps, were powerful Elementalists who could wield two different elements.
Spatials; referring to those who defied the laws of physics. They could teleport, create portals and even manipulate light and shadow.
There were those who took on a special mantle, becoming a member of the Clergy belonging to a specific god. Those individuals got access to Divine Magic, serving the greater good… or its opposition.
Finally, there were the Outliers. Those whose magic did not fit into any of the categories, so they were grouped all together.
In their little Weiler, most people were elementalists. The magic elementalists were the most straightforward of all the branches, easy to learn with no real ceiling to the limits for their power. An extremely useful trait for any young mage to have out here in the frontiers.
If Arahan could choose to be anything, he’d be an elementalist. Then he could help his Grandfather tend to the farm. Gramps was always complaining about his back these days and last winter, he’d caught the chills. Arahan had never seen Gramps so sick before.
While he had been caught up in his thoughts, he had already rounded the corner of the stable. The Ghards were the only family in the entire Wiler to have a stable, because they had two horses. It made looking into the animal pen difficult, so he’d have to open the door to look.
Except he wasn’t alone.
A girl dressed in blue overalls and a dirty white t-shirt stood facing the stable door; she hadn’t noticed Arahan yet. She had auburn hair cropped close to her head like a boy and was built like a teenage boy too. All limbs and the awkwardness of youth contained in those lanky arms. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had grown up together, Arahan would have mistaken her for a boy.
“Lorraine?” Arahan said before he could stop himself.
The girl turned to him, her brown eyes surprised. But it quickly died down to relief then scorn.
“What are you doing here, Ari?”
“I’m looking for my goats.” Arahan explained. “What are you doing here?”
“Your goats ain’t here. So shoo. Get on your way, freak.”
Arahan felt heat rise to his cheeks in anger. He stopped himself from calling her ‘stick bug’, a nickname that stuck on her during their youth. Last time, she had beaten him to an inch of his life. It was tough being a boy without magic.
“How would you know? This isn’t your farm, it’s the Ghards.”
“Don’t you know? My sister is going to be married off to their son. Our families are going to combine now. This farm belongs to me as much as it belongs to them.”
Lorraine was stretching the truth and she knew it. He had spent enough time with his grandmother to pick up some of her talent, albeit without the magic portion of it. The way people held themselves, the way their voice trembled. Arahan could see it on her face; she was lying through her teeth and nervous about something.
Scared. Arahan wasn’t dumb, he knew why.
It was no secret that Rufus was a bully and the mean-sort. The mean-sort that strings up cats by their tails and whips their taurents. Lorraine was probably worried about her sister, Lauren.
Arahan could have spared some sympathy for the girl and offered her a few kind words. But her insult to him earlier and the missing goats, combined with the fact that Lorraine was barring his way for what was supposed to be a simple task; well, it put him in a sour mood.
“I don’t have time for this.” Arahan tried to step past her and open the stable door.
Lorraine shoved him and a gust of wind propelled her palm against his chest. He took several steps back, scowling.
“C’mon! You know what those goats mean to me!” Arahan’s frustration spilled out of him. “I’ve been raising them since they were born! I won’t be taking anything.”
“You’re being a bother, Ari. Go annoy someone else.” Lorraine shooed him away with one hand then began to chew on her fingernails.
Ari sighed. There was no way he could get Lorraine to move, not without magic.
“Fine then. Maybe there’s something I can do to help you.” If there were two things Arahan was confident in; it was taking a beating and talking.
Lorraine shook her head. “Don’t try any of your clever talk or schemes on me. I have to do this alone.”
“What is it that you’re trying to do?” Arahan took a wild guess. “Your sister? You want to get rid of the bride price to delay their marriage? Is that it?”
The girl slowly turned to him. “By the wind, are you sure you’re not an empath like your Granny?”
So he was right. Arahan looked at the stable doors then at the girl’s face, tracing her thoughts. They were the same age, sixteen years old, and had grown up together. It wasn’t hard to see where her mind was.
“It’s not going to work. Rufus is a life mage. He’s going to sense you the moment he leaves the house. Those horses are going to work up a racket and the Ghards would have to be deaf and blind not to notice it.”
“How are you so sure that that's what I’m going to do?”
“You’re going to open the stables and release the horses. What? Old man Ghard promised old man Frederick a horse as the bride price for Lauren?” Arahan ventured and saw Lorraine nod slowly. “Just give it up Lorraine… it’s what the adults decided. Who knows, Rufus will be good to her.”
“Say that last part again about how Rufus will know it was me.”
Arahan answered gladly. As much as he hated the fact he didn’t have magic, there was a insatiable hunger that desired magic. The closest thing he could get to magic in real life was studying up on the book in Gramps’ library.
“Life mages can detect your life signature, which is unique to each person. Plus, Rufus could be a blood mage. You know they’re specialized for tracking right? He’ll know. No doubt about it.”
Lorraine seemed to think for a moment then smiled wickedly at Arahan. At the same time, Arahan got a chill down his spine.
“Don’t.” He said.
“Too late.”
Lorraine grabbed the stable doors and shoved them wide open. Wind roared and screamed as she summoned a gale and shoved it inside, ripping the animal pens open with sheer force. The cries of a dozen animals accompanied the howling wind and a moment later, they bounded out of the stable; urged on by the wind lashing their behinds.
Two horses were in the lead, galloping for the hills.
Arahan turned and ran.
“HELP! THE FREAK! HE’S STEALING THE HORSES! ARAHAN IS STEALING THE HORSES” Lorraine screamed from behind.
This wasn’t the first time that Arahan’s big mouth got him in trouble and Gramps always told him that he was too clever for his own good and not as half as clever as he needed to be. A contradiction, just like the fact that Lorraine, a Wind Mage, was calling for help against Arahan, the village idiot. But it wasn’t hard to imagine the Old man Ghard’s reactions, he’d be livid.
As Arahan sprinted past the shrubs with all the finesse of a taurent, he heard a roar that sent shivers up his spine.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH, MY FUCKING HORSES”
Old man Ghard.
Arahan chanced a look behind his shoulder and wished he hadn’t.
Old man Ghard burst out of his house; his greasy beard matted to his chin and his chest. The man was topless and his beer belly jiggled with each step but did no less to allay Arahan’s fears. Ghard was an elementalist; he could work up the faintest of the breezes into a gust and set it aflame with a thought
Ghard’s two sons came out behind their father, also topless. Rufus with his short black hair and beady eyes, then Wick with his stringy black hair sticking to his forehead. The two of them searched, their heads swiveling until they chanced on Arahan.
He tried to run faster but knew it was futile.
Still he couldn’t give up. If he could give them a chase –a chase so long and tiresome that it simply wasn’t worth the trouble– they’d give up. He knew the Ghard boys, they were short-tempered like a candle wick in winter and just as mean-spirited to boot. It also meant they were impatient. Arahan had to outrun them, to the mainroad at least, where everyone passed by. They wouldn’t not beat him, mostly because no one gave a shit if the manaless freak got beat. But they’d beat him less.
Arahan had been beaten before. He could take it.
Really though, it was Rufus. The boy was… not right in the head. Something was sick with him. With Rufus’ demeanor, he’d never be able to advance his life magic to something resembling healing. But pain… Yes, Rufus would be very good at that. Arahan tried to avoid being alone with Rufus whenever possible but this might be that one time that he was in over his head
For a single second, he considered running to Gramps. He dismissed it with a thought.
This was his problem.
Within moments, Arahan had sprinted out of the Ghard’s farm and was on the dirt path. His calves were starting to cramp up along with his thighs. Each breath he took seemed shorter than the last and the sound of blood rushing filled his ears.
Why was it so loud?
Arahan threw himself to the side as a gale of wind passed by where he had been. He tumbled hard and felt his ankle bend at just the right angle; splintering pain arced up his leg and he cried out despite himself. He rolled over, facing Lorraine who had started running after him. Her eyes shone with guilty mischief; the same way a child might after they realized a joke had gone too far but it was too late to stop.
“Lorraine! Stop this!” Arahan made a motion to get up but even before he could test out the ankle, a gust of wind shoved him back to the ground.
“I can’t.” She whispered furiously. “Sorry but you’re going to take the blame. It’s ok, they’ll just beat you like usual and you’ll get to go back home to your loving Gramps and Granny-”
“Let me go!” Anger overcame him. Arahan's grandfather had taught him to never hit a woman and it was definitely frowned upon within the Weiler. But all the guilt, the outrage and frustration spilled out at once.
He threw a rock. Hard. It hit Lorarine in the shoulder and caused her to stumble back.
All the guilt drained out of her eyes; only coldness remained. “You’ve just made your last mistake.”
“By the stars, I wish I did. Stickbug.” The moment the insult left his mouth, Arahan knew he crushed any chance of convincing Lorraine.
She bared her teeth in a snarl and cried out, “HERE! I HAVE THE FREAK OVER HERE!”
Arahan sat on the ground, waiting for the inevitable arrival of the Ghard boys. All he could think about was Gramp's words, circling around his head like a echo.
Too clever for his own good, but not half as clever as he needs to be.
***
