On a late summer eve in the month of June, a man stood at the edge of the great White Cliffs of Dover. The sun hung over the land and sea to the west. The large cliffs bore a glowing white color, as they stood above a great blue sea that stretched out for miles until it reached the coast of France. The man walked to the edge, and bent his knees slightly. A fearful look crossed his face. His legs trembled, and he wobbled back and forth.
“Dax Don’t!” yelled a voice coming from behind the man at the edge. The man turned around and stared into the dark blue eyes of the man behind him. He immediately recognized the man. He lived in the same village as Dax. He was the same age as Dax, and they were good friends. The man behind Dax wore a leather vest with a white shirt underneath. He had tight brown pants on as well. The man had strawberry blonde hair, with a small beard that was starting to grow.
“Geraint, they’ll kill me, this way I have control over my fate!” yelled Dax. He was rather tall, only of the age of twenty-four; he bore dark dirty blonde hair, with a small amount of stubble.
“Dax, magic will always have control over this world. Trust me- the people will never win this. The idea of exterminating magic is absurd, it’ll never happen!” yelled Geraint. As his last words entered the ears of Dax he jumped. His body fell into the deep blue water below. Geraint ran up to the edge of the cliff. He skidded to a stop, knocking a few rocks off into the water. He looked down below trying to find Dax’s body, but it was nowhere to be found. People started running towards Geraint from the village that lies not far from the cliffs.
“What happened here?” asked the first person to arrive from the village.
“Nothing of interest,” said Geraint as he walked away past the ever-growing crowd of villagers. Geraint wondered off towards the village, his mind reliving the events that had just occurred over and over again. It was hard for him to grasp the fact that Dax was dead, and that the world was forever changed. Geraint found the village chapel.
Light shined through the stain glass windows onto Geraint as he walked into the chapel. Pews lined the inside of the chapel. In the farthest area away from Geraint a small man dressed in black stared down at a small old book. The man looked up slightly from the book. His eyes never focused on Geraint. He only took notice that there was a man in the pews.
“Father, I need your help,” said Geraint as he was kneeling down with his hands folded in front of his head. The man shut the old book and stared at Geraint, he said nothing, only watched.
“My friend- my friend just perished. I can’t think of anything to do to show that I cared for him, other than confessing,” said Geraint. He knew that the man watched him as he prayed to God. “I have control over the powers of magic. I’ve been hiding from the church and others who search for the magi for many years now. I’ve committed many crimes against the people of this world, particularly my recently deceased friend.”
“Run from here now. If anyone else heard you say those words you will be caught,” said the man who was watching Geraint.
“What?” asked Geraint as he stood up and stared at the man.
“They will come after you. You need to run.”
Eighteen Years Ago – England – 1456
The sun rose above the dark horizon to the east. Light flooded the darkened sky making it bright with light. Small clouds blocked the sun’s light. The light fell down upon a field of yellow and green grass. A small head was sticking out of the grass. The head belonged to a young boy of the age of six. His hair was a rather dark dirty blond. Grass poked through the hair, as it was long as well. The boy wore a small white shirt, with brown pants.
He lay in the grass staring up at the sky watching the clouds and the faint stars that were disappearing. A small stream was running through the field next to him. Behind him laid a small house with a large chimney. Thick light gray smoke bellowed out of the chimney. In the small child’s mind, he was in his own world living without anyone else, just nature. The cloud that he had been watching started to disappear, and following that he stood up and began to walk. He was walking through the tall yellow and green grass when he heard a faint sound behind him.
He knew that he was alone; it had to be an animal. He turned around abruptly, startling whatever was following him. Leaves and grass crackled as he stared behind him. He saw nothing and decided to continue on his walk. The tall grass swayed with the wind as he walked. The wind rotated very minutely, but it was enough for Dax to take notice. He walked towards a narrow stream with sapphire blue water trickling through it. The stream had grey rocks that covering its floor. The rocks had a slight teal hue to them. Looking downward towards the ground he saw a small gray pebble, which looked like it belonged in the stream. He leaned down and picked it up. As he stood back up he felt a small tap on his shoulder.
This startled him, and he jumped slightly into the air. A small girl stood behind him. Her deep blue eyes stared up towards him. She had light brown hair that hung in front of her face. “Dax,” she cried, “you need to come home. Mother is worried.” Her voice was weak and calm, though her body language made her look nervous.
“Mary, I can’t. I need to find the dog,” said Dax.
“It has been several days Dax, he isn’t coming back,” said Mary.
“I know, but I enjoy the outdoors. The dog is just an excuse for me to be outside without worrying about work.”
“You still need to come home. Mother is worried.”
“I know she is worried Mary. You have said that twice now.”
Dax began to walk towards the house from which the smoke was fleeing. Mary followed him. She was a few inches shorter that Dax, even though he was two years older than her. Mary reached for Dax’s hand. Her small hand barely touched Dax’s fingertips when Dax jerked his hand away swiftly.
“What are you doing?” demanded Dax. He did not mean to sound aggressive as he talked, but it came out that way.
“Holding hands. Mother says that it is the best way to stay safe,” answered Mary. Her voice had a small sarcastic tone to it as she talked.
“Why?”
“Love Our love for each other makes a bond that will protect us.”
“Protect us from what?”
“Evil.”
Reluctantly Dax reached down towards Mary’s small hand and began to hold her hand the way Mary wanted. Dax truly loved his sister, no matter what their mother said. He occasionally found her to be a bother, but that didn’t change the fact that he loved her. He would do anything for Mary, even if that meant holding her hand. The wind began to blow harder than it had been. The bushes all around began to sway more than they had previously.
Dax and Mary walked slowly towards the house. Mary’s dress, which flowed gracefully over her feet, rubbed up against Dax as they walked. They walked down a path that was lined with bushes of all kinds. Some had thorns while others had beautiful flowers. Many were a dull green color, but others were vibrant multicolored. Something soon snagged onto Mary’s dress. Dax felt her jerk behind him as they walked.
Dax continued forward before he let go of Mary’s hand and asked, “Are you ok?” Mary whimpered before she answered. Her hand was grasping on to her leg. Dax noticed a large rip going through her dress. A small drip of a red liquid was seeping through the cracks in between her fingers. Mary finally answered, “Yes, I think.”
Dax realized that the red liquid was blood. Mary had been cut in the leg by the thorns of the bushes along the path. He ran up to Mary and forcibly moved Mary’s blood stained hand away from her leg. The thorn had somehow made a long cut across her leg. Dax, who was remarkably strong for his age, picked up Mary. Holding her closely he ran towards the house that was in the distance. As Dax ran towards the house, Mary stared at him with admiration. She was thankful for her brother. As they grew closer to the house they saw that a small aged woman stood in the path close to the house.
“What happened to Mary?” cried the woman. The woman was the mother of Dax and Mary. She shared the same hair color and style as Mary. Her face was beginning to wrinkle. Her nose was slightly crooked, and her eyes were a pale green color.
“She cut her leg on a thorn,” said Dax. He was out of breath, and nearly dropped his sister has he handed her over to their mother.
“I will be okay Mother,” said Mary. Her voice was still the way it had been earlier. Dax was pleased that she had not grown weak. Mary began to grow closer to her mother's chest and gave Dax a small smile. Dax smiled back, he had a terrible feeling though. Something would soon happen, and he feared that it would end badly for everyone involved. Their mother carried Mary into the house. Dax watched them go inside, but rather than following them he began to walk away from the house and back towards the fields that he and Mary had just left. He whistled as he walked, he seemed to be beckoning something even though nothing happened. He stopped and stared towards the fields.
Dax’s head began to ache. It felt like someone, or something, was poking the inside of his brain. It had been doing this more so recently than it used to. His mother said that it was all part of growing up, but he never saw Mary complain about pain in the head even if she is younger. Dax wondered why he was having these pains. He began to turn around and walk back to the house when a sudden feeling rushed over him, a feeling of numbness. He had never experienced this before. The longer it lasted the closer he came to falling to the ground. Before long he laid on the ground, unable to move his body. He was trapped inside his mind; all he could do was lay motion less and think about the past, and the future.
In his mind a picture began to form, a picture of the future, a life where he was able to do fantastical things. This future life seemed like a far off dream, but Dax knew it would happen someday. Dax was different than most children his age, or most people in the world for that matter. He could access areas of his heart, body, mind, and soul that most were not able to reach. This ability gave Dax great powers, powers over magic. Dax was not alone in this ability; many other people had this same power. It, in fact, was a common ability in humans, though rare that they accessed the power.
Dax knew that both his parents had control over magic. He also knew that Mary would most likely have the ability as well. Dax thought that the ability was one that could be learned by all people, his parents disagreed with this, thought though. Dax’s mind was leaving the picture of the future, and returning to the state of lying on the ground motionless.
In his mind, Dax yelled loud for his mother, though outside of his mind nothing happened. He wondered why he had become numb of all feeling and lost control of his body. He had determined that he had just undergone a vision. He often heard his parents talk about visions. Visions were a way that people with control over magic learned of events that would soon affect their lives. Often visions were meant to be interpreted, rarely were they meant to be looked at as one hundred percent truth.
This vision though seemed to have nothing to do with soon occurring events. He saw himself performing a spell, and behind him he saw his parents. He realized that he did not see Mary. Something must have happened to her, but what? Had she died? Or had she simple left her family behind?
Time passed as Dax lay on the ground. He did not know how long he was on the ground numb; he did know that he was slowly regaining control of parts of his body. The sun was much lower that it was earlier, almost to sunset. The sun gave off warmth that felt comforting to Dax. The crackling of leaves could be heard coming from behind Dax. Five large logs were dropped near Dax and a tall slender man leaned down towards Dax’s head.
“Care to explain why you are laying on the ground?” asked the man.
Dax, who had regained the ability to speak said, “Father, I became numb and fell to the ground. I think I have had a vision.”
“A vision?” asked the man who appeared to be Dax's father.
“Yes, but I can’t seem to regain control over my body,” said Dax.
“If it happens again say this spell ‘Northmanni civitas,’!”
“I could not speak this time, what makes thou believe I would be able to speak the next time?”
“You don't have to speak to say a spell, you can always cast a spell in your mind, without speech.” The father stared at Dax and thought the words in his head. Immediately following, Dax regained full control of his body. He lay on the ground staring up at his father, his admiration for him becoming greater with the passing seconds. His father walked away to pick up the logs which he dropped earlier.
“Father, when did thou receive thine first vision?” asked Dax.
“Close to your age Dax maybe I was a bit older or younger. I strongly remember laying on the ground for almost a whole day prior to the arrival of my father. When he found me and shared with me the same knowledge I just passed to you,” he answered.
“When did thou start to train in the arts of magic?”
“I did around thirteen, but most begin at the age of twelve years, sometimes eleven.”
“Why did thou train so late?”
“As I child I unknowingly meddled with demonic magic. Most consider that to be the vilest of all forms of magic. And as such I was not allowed to train in magic until I was older.”
With that last statement, Dax’s father walked inside to the house. Dax stood up and wiped the dust and dirt off of him. He was puzzled why his father chose to do something as vile as demonic magic. The level of Dax's admiration for his father did not differ after learning his father used demonic magic though. Dax realized that his father had changed for the better. Dax looked up towards the sky and saw that the faint stars were returning. He then proceeded to walk into the house.
Once inside the warmth of a fire that seemed to attract the entire family towards it engulfed Dax. The red and orange flames shot up into the soot covered chimney above. Around the fireplace were two chairs, each of which was currently occupied—one by Mary, the other by Dax’s mother. One of the chairs had a burn on them from a few years prior. There were two rooms, one was the one where Mary and her mother were, and the other was full of beds. The room with beds had three beds, positioned awkwardly. This room seemed cold and lifeless compared to the other room which was teaming with life. The room with the chairs also contained a table which also had burn marks on it.
A cauldron was close to the table. The cauldron was a dark, deep blue color that was close to color of the night sky. Inside the cauldron was a thick liquid that had chunks of various meats and vegetables in it. The stench from the stew rose in the air and floated over towards Dax who stood in the doorways staring into the room. The smell made his eyes water slightly. Mary’s eyes made contact with his and he began walking towards her and their mother. Mary got out of her chair and walked over to their mother. She climbed into her lap and happily smiled at Dax. With a smirk on his face, Dax sat down in the other chair.
Time was passing by and all Dax did was stare into the fire. He found himself staring blankly towards objects far more often than he used to. In the fire, he saw things; though he saw things everywhere. In the fire, Dax saw images of humans being hunted and killed. The humans were running for their lives from an unrecognizable hooded figure. The figure looked like it was surrounded by shadows. He was appalled by these images. He could not remove his eyes though. After a few minutes the images would change, one showed a church with a large steeple. In this image he saw a priest who looked kind and thoughtful. The priest seemed to be directing people to do something. Dax realized that the priest was directing some guards to arrest another man.
“Dax!” yelled Mary. The rest of the evening had passed. Mary and both of their parents had done everything else that was needed to be done throughout the evening. Yet Dax sat in the chair staring at fire.
“What?” asked Dax. His eyes barely left the tantalizing flames.
“We should go to bed. Put out the fire.”
Dax did as Mary had suggested as they both walked into the other room with the beds. The images that Dax saw in the fire were burned into his mind. Throughout the whole night he dreamt of the images. One particular image reappeared quite often. This image was one of people who used magic being killed by those who cannot. To Dax this image felt real, so real in fact that he woke up several times prepared to run for his life.
As Dax did daily, he woke up earlier than his parents and Mary. The sun was not yet rising in the sky as he walked outside towards the fields. He found his usual spot hidden between the thorn bushes with multicolored flowers and the stream. He lay down on the soft grass and stared up towards the sky. Soon the sun began to rise and he found clouds that caught his interest. Dax would waste the day away here; the cycle repeated daily.
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This is just a sample from the very beginning of a project that I am working on, and I may post more later. Thanks for reading!
Edit: I posted the rest of what I guess could be called chapter one.
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