The sun barely crept over the hills when Lucas stepped outside. Dew clung to the grass, and the morning air bit a little sharper than usual.
Chickens clucked quietly in the coop as he tossed out handfuls of feed. He didn't know why he kept doing the chores maybe because it was almost comforting, like holding onto something normal when everything else was about to spin out of control.
Lucas stood outside the cottage, staring at the chicken coop. The same spot where the fox had died just a day ago. A few feathers still clung to the grass, but the body was gone, it was buried by Mirna before dawn. He kicked at the dirt gently.
"How can something that felt so right be so scary?" he muttered to himself, "What am I becoming?"
"You talking to the chickens now?" a gruff voice called. Lucas looked up sharply. It was Old Rigg, the village butcher, strolling by with his cane. He paused near the fence, squinting at Lucas.
"You hear that ruckus yesterday?" Rigg asked. "Saw a fox dead near your coop last night. Looked like it got struck by lightning." Lucas stiffened. "Must've been a freak storm."
"Hmm," Rigg muttered, rubbing his chin. "Didn't hear no thunder."
Lucas forced a shrug. "I was inside."
Rigg lingered. "Strange things've been happening lately. I keep my eyes open, boy. You do the same." Lucas nodded politely, but his throat was dry. The old man walked on, muttering to himself
At first Lucas felt scared, he remembered what the outcome would've been if Riggs finds out that he is a wizard. he hurriedly finished what he was doing outside and rushed inside the house as the door creaked behind him. He met Miran in the kitchen cooking what smelt like meat steak
"You're up early," Mirna said, wiping her hands on her apron. Lucas nodded. "Couldn't sleep. The book keeps calling me. I keep hearing strange noises and sounds... I don't know....whispers?."
She stepped beside him, quiet for a moment. "That's not unusual. Magic's alive, Lucas. It remembers." He turned to her. "So, what now? You said we'd train."
"We will. But not here. Not in the open."
Mirna led Lucas around the back of the house where a patch of ground was covered in ivy and stone. She knelt and pushed aside the vines, revealing a small wooden door with rusted hinges.
"I never noticed that before," Lucas said. "You weren't meant to," she replied. "This place belonged to my father. He wasn't a Magi, but he believed in protecting what others feared." When they entered, the candles along the wall flickered to life on their own. Lucas froze. "I didn't do that, did I?"
"No," Mirna said. "This place is old magic. It remembers too." Lucas walked around the room. There was a stone platform in the center with a circle of symbols etched into it. He felt drawn to it.
She pulled the door open. Dust flew up. A narrow staircase led down into the dark. Lucas hesitated.
"You scared?" she asked, with a hint of a smile. He shook his head, even though he was. "No." "Good. Because the real scary part comes after this."
~Underground~
The cellar was bigger than Lucas expected. Candles lit the stone walls as if they had been waiting for them.
Around the center filled with small stones carved by symbols were worn books, old tools, and jars designed with strange herbs. Lucas stepped inside slowly a bit scared.
"This… feels old."
"It is," Mirna said. "Generations of quiet magic have passed through this room. And now, it's yours."
Lucas ran his fingers over the symbols.
"They're warm."
"That's your magic recognizing them. You're connected to things older than the kingdom itself."
He looked up. "Can we start now?"
Mirna nodded. "But remember, magic isn't like swinging a sword. You don't force it. You listen to it."
Mirna handed Lucas a small wooden cup and placed a candle beside it. "We start small," she said. "Focus on lighting the candle without touching it." Lucas stared at it. "And if I mess up?" "You will. That's part of learning." He took a deep breath, raised his hand slightly, and focused on the wick. Nothing happened. He clenched his jaw, trying harder but still nothing.
"Don't force it," Mirna reminded him. "Let it rise on its own. Like it did with the fox."
Lucas closed his eyes and remembered that moment, the heat in his chest, the way the world bent around his words. He whispered, "Light." A flicker sparked then followed a soft flame.
Lucas opened his eyes and nearly stumbled back.
"I did it…"
Mirna grinned. "You did. Nicely done."
He looked down at his hands. "I didn't even feel anything this time."
"That's because it's starting to trust you," she said. "But this is just the surface, Lucas. Real magic goes deeper. It's not just tricks, it's truth."
But Lucas's smile faded. "What if I can't control it next time?" "You will," she said. "That's why we're here."
"Try this," Mirna said, handing him a shallow bowl filled with water. "Use your focus to make the surface move." Lucas concentrated, hands hovering above it. Nothing happened. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Move."
The water trembled slightly. Mirna smiled. "Good, Again." He tried harder. The water suddenly splashed upward, dousing his face.
He laughed. "I guess that was too much huh?"
"A little," she chuckled. But deep down, Lucas was buzzing. Magic was real, inside him and it was alive.
As they practiced, the sky outside darkened. Afternoon shadows stretched across the trees. They were about to pack up when Mirna suddenly stiffened.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered. Lucas listened. "What?"
"Voices."
She blew out the candle and rushed upstairs. Lucas followed quietly. From the back window, they saw two figures on horseback near the village path, they weren't villagers because they were too armored and too clean. One held a scroll. The other had a red sash.
Lucas stepped back. "Who are they?" Mirna's voice was low. "King's men. Scouts." Lucas's stomach dropped. "Do they know?" "Not yet. But if someone saw what happened with the fox…"
She turned to him quickly. "We have to be careful now. No more using magic unless I say so. Not outside. Not around anyone, understood?" Lucas nodded as his heart pounded in fear. "Yes."
Mirna moved to the front door and bolted it shut. Then she turned back, her eyes burning with something Lucas hadn't seen before. 'Fear'.
"They're looking for you, Lucas," she said. "And we just ran out of time."
That night, Lucas lay in bed with the book beside him. He didn't dare open it again. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about the flame he lit, the fox he killed, and the men on horseback. Everything was changing. Everything had already
changed.
Just as he was about to close his eyes, the book shifted. One word appeared on the cover.
"Run."
Lucas sat up, breath caught in his throat.
He ran to the window and looked out into the night. The woods were quiet. But the shadows were moving.