Out of Shadow: An Epic YA Fantasy Adventure (Roots of Creation Book 1)

by Jason Hamilton

  Relief flooded her. At least her father was being reasonable on this matter. Despite everything that had happened, the last thing she wanted to miss was that rare event. She had been too young the last time a Gifter had visited their small town.

  She had never told her father which brand she wanted to get, and her father never pushed her for information. Branding was a personal decision, he always said, and it should be made without outside influence like parental or societal expectations. That level of freedom was unusual coming from him. Most would probably assume she’d take the same brand as her father, but he had never made that assumption for her.

  Despite her father’s assurances, Jak knew that he secretly wanted her to join him as a Telekenetic. Many children did this, choosing the brand of their parents as a way to make apprenticeship easier. But as exciting as her friends found it to be, Jak never wanted Telekinesis. She knew what she wanted, and she also knew that her father would not like it.

  By the time they reached the town of Riverbrook, the sun was already high in the sky. The town was small, or at least that’s what people said. Jak had never seen anything bigger, so she couldn’t really say for herself. But to her, it was the best place in the world. Coming to Riverbrook meant spending time with her friends, gazing at the larger homes, and maybe getting a piece of candy from Marek’s parents at their shop.

  Most of the buildings ran along one street, though some of the bigger structures, like the Lord Mayor’s house, sat off on the east side on a small hill overlooking the town.

  “Jak, you’re here! Jak!” A voice cried out.

  It was Marek, Jak’s best friend. She looked at her father, who nodded, and Jak hopped off the wagon, taking only her journal with her.

  “Hey Marek!” Jak called out, “Are you excited?”

  “Am I excited?” the boy stared at her, “Of course I am! What are you planning to get?”

  “I…I’m still not sure,” she lied.

  “What?” another voice called out. This time it was Paul, another of Jak’s friends, who trotted over to meet them. Jak had known the boys since they were small children, but she couldn’t help noticing how square their shoulders were starting to look. “You know brands better than anyone in the village, probably better than anyone from here to Tradehall.”

  Jak hid her blush. “I just like learning all I can before making a decision.”

  “Well I know exactly what brand I’m getting.”

  “Oh yes,” said Marek. “Everyone knows what you’re getting.”

  “What? Enhanced strength is obviously the best option. Who doesn’t want to be strong? Maybe I could join the Watchers!”

  Jak snickered, trying to picture Paul in a uniform. “They would never let someone like you in.”

  “I could do it!” His face scrunched up, indignantly. “Though I suppose Blood-burning would be pretty cool too.”

  Marek looked sidelong at Paul, and Jak’s face flushed. “Paul!” she cried, “Don’t even joke about that!”

  Blood-burning was a very dangerous type of brand, one that allowed the user to boil the blood inside a person. It was outlawed for most people, but rumors persisted that the queen at Skyecliff had a secret band of Blood-burners as her most deadly assassins.

  Jak turned back to Marek, “So what brand do you want?” she asked.

  “Telekinesis,” he replied, “I thought maybe your dad could teach me?”

  “I’m sure he’d love that.” Jak said. Her excitement rose. She would love that too, though she’d never say as much to Marek. Maybe this meant she would see her friend more often. But just as soon as she thought it, she realized that was impossible, and her spirits slumped. Not with the brand Jak was about to choose.

  “Say, why is your wagon so full?” Marek asked Jak. “And why does your father have his bow. Are you guys going somewhere?”

  Jak felt her spirits fall even further as she remembered the morning events. “No, I’m afraid we had some trouble this morning.” And she proceeded to tell them everything that had happened, about the sheep, the smell, and the gore, and the creature she thought she saw though she left out the part about her nightmare. She needed to know more before she told anyone else.

  Marek and Paul gaped at her with an odd mixture of revulsion and admiration. Boys were so weird.

  “You mean, all of them were dead?” asked Paul, disbelief on his face.

  “She’s probably lying,” a voice came from behind Jak. She turned and closed her eyes in exasperation. It was Estel, a girl just a year or two older than Jak, and her least favorite person in the world.

  “It’s true, Estel.” She spun on the girl, her fists clenched. Estel always seemed to have it in for her. “Why would I make up something like that?”

  “How should I know, you’ve always craved attention. Oh!” she placed a wilted hand against her chest in mock distress. “Look at me! I can recite all the brands, my hair is so different, my father never lets me have fun.”

  Jak felt her face grow hot. Who did Estel think she was? Well, she would give her a piece of her mind if it—

  “Cut it out Estel, she never did anything to you.” Marek glared at the girl, the same disgust on his face that Jak felt.

  Marek was the only one who frequently stood up to Estel, and the girl seemed to like that. Even now, Jak could see the hungry look in Estel’s eyes as Marek told her off. Jak’s eyebrows furrowed. If Estel knew what was good for her, she would stay away from Marek. If not, Jak would…well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she would do.

  “We’ll see how you feel after the Branding,” Estel hummed at Marek. “I'm going to be a Firedancer. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll dance for you.”

  “Ahem, so…I wonder where the Gifter is,” said Paul, trying to cut the tension.

  “He’s with the Lord Mayor,” Marek answered, his eyes still on Estel. “He arrived last night.” Marek’s parents were shop owners, and got to see almost all of the visitors into town.

  “We should probably head over there,” Jak said, “All the new blood and trade masters are supposed to meet at the Lord Mayor’s home by midday.” She looked up at the sun. It must be close to midday already.

  “Yeah, let’s go!” said Paul, “I gotta see if I can find Vern.”

  Naturally. Vern was a trade master for Strength, even though he only received the brand himself a little over five years ago. He also ran the only tavern in town. Assuming that Paul really did receive a Strength brand, Vern would likely be his trade master.

  They walked through the village, down main street and up a small side street that led up to the Lord Mayor’s home. The building towered over all the rest. It was the only building within miles to have a third story. What would anyone do with all that space? Though she had to admit, it was still the most exciting building in town.

  Catching herself staring, she forced her eyes back down to her level and joined several other boys and girls her age at the door, which hung open to let everyone in. She recognized all of them, though many, like Estel, were a little older than she. Because Jak had only recently turned sixteen, she only barely made the cut.

  Naomi, one of Jak’s older friends, waited inside to greet them as they came in. Naomi currently had a job as the mayor’s assistant.

  “Come in,” she said. “The Lord Mayor has been expecting you.”

  They each shuffled in, admiring the large house from within. There was enough room to fit Jak’s entire wagon and stable in here! Who needed so much space? Jak had never been in the Lord Mayor’s house before. The man himself was portly and, some say, came all the way from Skyecliff. Apparently he had run into some financial trouble there, or at least as much financial trouble as a nobleman could have. He moved to the small town of Riverbrook and soon became its mayor. Most of the villagers didn’t mind this, as long as the old man left them alone, which he did for the most part. His main role was to represent Riverbrook when passing nobles or Gifters arrived.

  Naomi led them to a lar
ge room in the back of the mayor’s home, where benches stood in neat little rows. Many of the adults were already there, including Rael, Jak’s father. He was standing silently in the corner with his arms crossed, observing the room. He was always like that: watchful, sober, never relaxed. The other adults were all trade masters, specialists in one particular brand or another. They greeted the young hopefuls by bringing their brand hand to their chest, nodding and smiling. Jak eagerly sought out the brand on each hand she saw, running through all the different options in her mind.

  A door at the other end of the hall opened, and the Lord Mayor stepped in. He was accompanied by a man who was unmistakably the Gifter. The stranger had on a long coat that hung down to his knees. The coat was dirty and worn, as was the man’s face, hair, and beard. His brown eyes twinkled as he saw Jak and the other young women and men. He ran a hand through his beard, which was starting to gray.

  The Lord Mayor spoke first. “My friends! Welcome to this very special occasion. You are here because it’s finally time for you to come of age and join the rest of us in our glorious union as…”

  Jak kept her eyes fixed on the Gifter, who was taking a moment to meet the eyes of each young person in attendance while the mayor rattled on and on. When he met Jak’s eyes, she thought she saw something there, a deepness. His eyes lingered on her, perhaps more than the others? Jak swallowed. Did he know anything? Could a Gifter somehow tell what brand a prospect wanted? She glanced at her left hand, imagining the brand there. She was brought out of her thoughts as the mayor abruptly finished his little speech and gestured to the Gifter, turning the time over to him.

  “Welcome,” the newcomer said, “My name is Gabriel. As you might have guessed, I am the Gifter.” A few polite chuckles scattered through the room. “I travel a lot these days but my home is in Skyecliff, at the college of Skyecliff specifically where I teach when I’m not abroad.”

  Wow, a real teacher from Skyecliff. What it would be like to see a city that big.

  “Before we get started, I want to impress upon all of you the importance of today’s event. What you will receive today is sacred. They are not gifts from me; I am merely the intermediary, the middle man. These are gifts from the Holy Relics, passed on from our ancestors long before any of you were born.”

  Jak felt excitement course through her. She loved any mention of the Holy Relics, the sources of all magic. Branded artifacts that had first provided templates for the brands. Everything they knew came from one Relic or another, and one day, she hoped to see one with her own eyes.

  “Those gathered around you will be your tutors. Depending on what brand you choose, one of them will instruct you in its use. I believe, we have quite a variety for such a small town as this. Even a Telekinetic.” He nodded towards Rael, who returned the nod. “As always, we advise you to choose a brand that will benefit you in your chosen profession. For this reason, many of you will choose the same brand as your parents or another family member. We encourage this, as they will know best how to guide you. But, of course, the choice is yours.”

  Jak clutched her journal, and felt her nervousness rise. What if the Gifter said no? What if she couldn’t get the brand that she wanted? What if…? Every possible scenario played out in her mind as the Gifter began to list the approved series of brands. She already knew all of that, and she only partially paid attention. This was obviously a routine that the Gifter had recited many times before, for his voice had grown monotone. So Jak was almost surprised when he turned to the first child on the row in front of him.

  “What’s your name, child.”

  “Ella,” the girl said timidly.

  “Well Ella, do you know which brand you want?”

  “Yes,” she said, and offered a pouch full of coin. “Hungerless.”

  Of course. Ella was from one of the poorest families in the village. They must have spent years saving coin for the brand, knowing that a brand like Hungerless would save them money in the long run. Many families chose this brand. Ella would still need to eat, but in far-less quantities than before. It was a passive brand, one of the few that didn’t require an apprenticeship.

  “Ah, very well. Are you sure? The brand stays with you for life. You will never have another. You can never change it.” Ella hesitated, but nodded. Gabriel accepted the pouch, and placed one hand on Ella’s left wrist. Ella gasped as a sound like burning flesh filled the air. Light shone from the Gifter’s own brand as his magic did its work. When the light subsided, a patchwork of black lines had formed on the back of Ella’s left hand, the traditional location for a brand. She raised her hand to look at it, excitement evident on her face.

  “Th..Thank you,” she muttered. The Gifter smiled and moved on to the next in line. He continued this process, asking the young person what brand they wanted, occasionally asking a mentor if they would accept an apprentice, taking the money, then giving the requested brand. He was coming closer and closer. Soon, it would be Jak’s turn. Nervously, she clutched her journal closer to her chest.

  Marek was sitting next to Jak and the Gifter approached him first.

  “And what is it that you want?” he said.

  “Telekinesis,” he said without hesitation, holding his pouch of coin high.

  A mutter ran through the room. No one had asked for that brand yet. Rael was the only mentor in the whole town, and he lived far enough away to make regular journeys a staunch commitment.

  “Well it’s been awhile since I performed that one.” Gabriel said, in good spirits. “I wonder, does Master Rael agree to take on an apprentice.”

  Jak looked over at her father. He still stood in his corner. Would he accept after what had happened this morning? With all the sheep gone, Jak didn’t know how they were going to make a living for the near future. With that uncertainty, could Rael really commit to an apprenticeship? But after a moment’s hesitation, Rael nodded, “I will accept.”

  “Very good, well then.” Gabriel offered a hand and took Marek’s outstretched arm. He was visibly shaking with anticipation. His face quickly turned from excitement to pain as the brand settled into him. Soon, however, it was over, and a criss-cross of black lines extended from the back of his hand. It was one of the more complex brands.

  Now, it was Jak’s turn. She swallowed. She had imagined this moment for a long time, but now felt like she almost couldn’t work up the courage to ask for the brand she had chosen.

  “And what would you like, my dear? Telekinesis like your friend or your father?” Jak blinked. How did he know that she was Rael’s daughter?

  “I…um…” she had trouble speaking the words. Gabriel stood patiently. “I…I want to be a Gifter like you.”

  Silence filled the room.

  2

  “Well now,” Gabriel rubbed his chin, “You know, there are no Gifters in your village. No one to guide you.”

  Jak looked at her feet. “I know.”

  “It would mean leaving Riverbrook and accompanying me to Skyecliff.”

  “I know,” she repeated. Jak didn’t dare meet her father’s eyes in that moment, but she knew what she would find there: concern, disbelief, and most of all, hurt.

  The Gifter spoke again, “I’m going to come back to you, after I’ve finished the rest of my business here.” He gestured at the other young men and women in the room.

  He moved on to the next candidate. Jak sat with her head facing the floor. She felt the eyes of everyone in the room still on her. Worse, she could hear Estel snickering several seats away. No one from their village had ever asked to be a Gifter. There were only a handful in the entire kingdom. Marek nudged Jak and whispered, “What are you thinking? You can’t be a Gifter.”

  “Why not?” Jak still stared at the floor.

  “Well because…because you can’t leave Riverbrook.” Marek said, as if it were that simple.

  Jak was touched by his concern, but on the other hand, she had planned this for a long time. With her father’s overprotective attitude, she ne
eded to get away from it all. She wasn’t thrilled with leaving Riverbrook. She had no desire to see Skyecliff or Tradehall or any place in particular. She loved her home. But she did want one thing, and that was to learn all she could about brands. Yet, in that moment, with all eyes on her, feeling the crushing guilt of springing this on her father, all she wanted to do was disappear into the floor.

  The Gifter continued giving out the requested brands. Paul got his enhanced strength, Estel got her Firedancing, and others received their impressive brands, all of them quite appropriate to their users for one reason or another. Jak just sat there, with no brand on her hand, wondering if Gabriel would even agree to give it to her. What did it mean that he would come back to her? Was he just waiting for a private moment to turn her down? To tell her that she needed to stay home? She had been dreaming of this day for years, and now she wished it was over. She still didn’t look at her father, but she could feel his eyes on her. What was he thinking?

  Finally, the Gifter finished giving out all of the brands. “Thank you all for coming!” he said cheerily, patting his pouch where the coin jingled. “You may return home.” Jak almost wondered if he meant she should go home as well, before he walked past her and said, in a low tone, “You, come with me.”

  She did as asked, following him into a small side room, probably meant for the servants when they weren’t tending to the Lord Mayor’s household. Gabriel indicated a chair on one side of a wooden table. He sat on the other side.

  “Well now,” he said, his mood still upbeat. “It’s been a long time since someone asked to be a Gifter. Not everyone trusts us, you see.”

  Jak frowned, “Why not?”

  “Well, you can understand that we take special precautions. The Gift is not to be taken lightly. In the wrong hands, it can become a weapon of grave significance. It can kill or pervert life itself.”