by T. J. Klune
But he was more than his fears. He was an apprentice, and one day, he would be the King’s Wizard, and people would remember his name and they would be happy to see him, happy to be his friend.
And so the boy packed a bag, hugged his parents (who were only the tiniest bit teary, especially the father), and walked out of the castle, out of the City, and into the Dark Woods.
And promptly got lost.
He didn’t mean for it to happen.
One minute he was marching determinedly into the Dark Woods, and the next (after being distracted by this and that), he was in unfamiliar territory, unsure of where to go next. He knew magic, of course, but Morgan had warned him to use it sparingly so as to not attract unwanted attention. Especially if he was traveling by himself. He could protect himself, if it came down to it (which were among the first lessons Morgan had taught him: defensive spells and wards and counterattacks), but he often had trouble with the little things, like directions and staying on point. It wasn’t his fault, not completely. His brain worked a little differently and it was easier for him to become sidetracked. His mother said it was a quirk. His father said it was a talent. Morgan said it was an issue to be worked through.
But none of them were with him in the Dark Woods and he was, and now he was lost and still needed to find something unexpected.
There was a large spider with a web six feet across.
It was unexpected, sure. But it was also gross.
There was the skull of a large elk, sixteen points upon its head.
It was unexpected, definitely. But it had died in the forest it had lived in, and the boy knew that’s where it should stay.
There was a flower that blossomed only when touched by human hands.
It was unexpected, no doubt about it. But it smelled awful and caused the boy to sneeze.
That first night he huddled up against a tree. The canopy overhead was thick, but if he angled his head just right, he could see the stars.
Now, this boy had done his fair share of wishing upon these stars. Sometimes, the wishes came true. Most of the time, they did not. It never stopped him, though. Because the stars were always there, no matter where he was.
And so, like most nights, aside from that stretch of time when he first moved into the castle, he looked up at the sky and found the Fox and the Dragon and the Old Fish, friends that never left him, and on the outside of his vision, he saw the green of his magic. It was there, like the stars, his constant.
I wish to find the unexpected, he thought. So that I may show Morgan that he was right to place his faith in me.
He slept, then. Under the tree. Under the stars. In the Dark Woods.
When he opened his eyes again, the sun was barely rising and he heard a deep, choked sob that came from deeper in the woods.
Whoever it was sounded so sad and hurt that it clawed at the boy’s heart, even as it made him wary. He knew there were tricksters in the forest, shape-shifters and fairies and selkies who could lure even the most hardened of men with promises of sex or love or the need for comfort until they were too close to see the flash of claws, the snarl of teeth.
He was a kind boy, a loving boy. But he was not a stupid boy.
He remembered words that Morgan had taught him, words that could cause rocks to float and be hurled. His was an earthy magic, with words like ris and thri and par. They were weaker words, but they would do in a pinch if he needed them.
He hoped he wouldn’t need them.
He took light steps through the woods, avoiding the leaves that scattered the forest floor. Most knew him by his mouth, the never-ending babble that would pour out talking about anything and everything. They didn’t know that this strange and somewhat lonely boy could be as silent as shadow when called upon to do so. That he could close his mouth and narrow his mind with a razor-sharp focus. He could move with the softest of steps, like he was not there at all.
The sounds of sadness grew louder and he almost hoped it was a trap, because the sobs were filled with such pain that it caused the boy’s heart to shatter. A trap meant that nothing bad had happened to whomever was crying like their soul had been torn in two.
There was a clearing ahead.
He moved among the trees.
He heard a quiet murmur moving in tandem with the sobs.
He took a breath and peered around an old tree, the bark rubbing against his hands.
In the clearing sat a giant of a man, head bowed, face in hands, shoulders shaking as he cried. He had long black hair that hung around large fingers. He wore only trousers, torn and dirty. Across the long expanse of his back, scars stretched in sharp, white relief from the tanned skin. It took the boy a moment to see them for what they were.
Whip marks. The giant of a man had been whipped. Repeatedly.
Some of the scars were old. Some looked newer.
He moved his hand from his face, and his chin wobbled, and he let out another sound of anguish, his dark eyes welling and spilling over onto his already wet and reddened cheeks. He looked so young.
“It’s okay,” another voice said. “We’ve got away. We won’t have to go back, I promise. We’ll find somewhere to go and I’ll build you a house and we can live there and have food and beds and good dreams and nothing will hurt us ever again.”
The boy looked away from the giant and saw another wonder that took his breath away.
A beautiful white horse, tall and elegant and… talking.
The horse was talking.
It wasn’t until the horse looked off into the trees that the boy saw the nub of bone on the horse’s forehead that he realized it wasn’t a horse at all.
It was a unicorn.
“So awesome,” the boy breathed.
Quite loudly.
The unicorn immediately looked over at where the boy was hiding behind the tree. It glared, eyes flashing brightly and only then could the boy feel its magic, reaching out for his own. It wasn’t as strong as a unicorn’s should be, but its horn was gone so the boy didn’t expect it to be.
He heard the giant of a man rumble loudly as he pulled himself to his feet and the boy thought briefly how he couldn’t be a full giant, as they were twenty feet tall, but that his mother must have been a giantess, and his father a man. He had so many questions to ask but he first needed to make sure they weren’t going to rip him limb from limb.
“Who’s there?” the unicorn shouted.
“I smash,” the half-giant growled.
“Tiggy will smash you,” the unicorn agreed.
“Very hard,” the half-giant said.
The boy most certainly didn’t want to be smashed, but he needed them to know he wasn’t a threat. A unicorn couldn’t be evil, because their hearts were too pure, and if it was traveling with a half-giant, then the half-giant couldn’t be all bad either. And they sounded scared and sad and all the boy wanted to do was make them smile and laugh and be happy.
This strange and somewhat lonely boy knew he had found something unexpected.
So he took a breath and pulled his shoulders back and held himself high as he stepped away from the tree and into the clearing.
The unicorn and half-giant stared at him.
The boy stuck out his chest proudly.
The unicorn snorted. It came out pink. “Well,” it said. “That’s not quite what I expected. Who knew the forest was infested with twinks.”
The boy furrowed his brow. “What’s a twink?”
“You’ll learn one day, chicken,” the unicorn said. “Around the time your cherry gets popped. Now go away. We’re busy.”
The boy gaped at him. “You can’t speak to me that way! I’m a wizard.”
“Sure, kid. And I’m the Queen of Verania.”
“Smashing?” the half-giant asked.
“No, Tiggy,” the unicorn said. “No smashing. We don’t smash little twinks. We let them grow up so they can provide a valuable service by having sex with mens.”
“Tiggy,” the boy said.
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br /> They both looked over
“I like your name,” the boy said. “And I haven’t decided if I want to have sex with men or women yet. I’m only fourteen. I still have time to decide.”
“Honey bear,” the unicorn said. “You are the gayest thing I’ve seen since I last saw my own reflection.”
“Oh,” the boy said. “That’s… eye-opening.”
“I like your face, tiny human,” Tiggy said as he took a step toward the boy.
The boy looked up at him in awe. “So tall,” he whispered.
“Tiggy,” the unicorn said in warning.
“His face,” Tiggy insisted as he took another step and another. The boy felt the ground shake beneath.
“It’s not a bad face,” the unicorn said. Then he narrowed his eyes. “Who sent you here? Why are you by yourself? What do you want?”
“I’m on a quest,” the boy said proudly, puffing out his chest again. “I must find something unexpected and bring it back to my mentor.”
“Uh-huh,” the unicorn said. “Fascinating. Super fun. Are you here to capture us and take us back to Koklanaris?”
The boy scrunched up his face. “Kokla what?”
“His face,” Tiggy said again. His eyes were red rimmed, but the tears had stopped falling. He stood above the boy and leaned down until they were eye level.
“Whoa,” the boy said. “Your eyes are huge, dude. Like as big as my hand.”
“Dude,” Tiggy rumbled. “Huge dude.”
The boy smiled widely. “Dude.”
And then he squawked loudly as the giant picked him up and held him against his chest before turning back to the unicorn.
“I keep him,” Tiggy said. “He’s mine.”
“You can’t keep him,” the unicorn said. “He’s a human. Do you know how much upkeep they require? They eat and poop all the time.”
“Not all the time,” the boy said. “I feel I eat and poop the regular amount of time. Maybe even a little less.”
“He’s mine,” Tiggy said again. “I call him Steve.”
“Uhhh,” the boy said.
“Steve,” the unicorn said flatly. “That’s… okay. He looks like a Steve. I guess.”
“I’m not a Steve,” the boy said. “I’m a Sam.”
“Steve,” Tiggy said. “You’re Steve. My Steve. I love you, tiny Steve.”
Sam twisted in the half-giant’s arms until he could get level with his face. He reached out and squished Tiggy’s cheeks in his hand, making the half-giant pucker his lips. “Saaaaaam,” the boy said slowly. “Saaaaaaam.”
“Steeeeeeve,” Tiggy said.
“Oh my gods,” the unicorn muttered.
“You can keep me if you call me Sam,” the boy said.
Tiggy pouted.
“Aww,” Sam said. “That face.”
“Sam,” Tiggy said and Sam grinned. Tiggy sat down and held the boy in his lap. “I keep Sam,” he told the unicorn.
The unicorn leaned forward and snuffled along Sam’s face and neck and the boy laughed and laughed. The unicorn finished and stepped back. “You smell like magic,” he said finally.
“I’m a wizard.”
The unicorn waited.
“Okay. Not quite a wizard. An apprentice.”
“To who?”
“Morgan of Shadows,” Sam said proudly.
The unicorn looked suitably impressed. “You’re an apprentice to the King’s Wizard?”
“Yep. What’s your name? How old are you? Do you like cheese? I once ate a whole block of cheese by myself and threw up for six hours.”
The unicorn stared at him. Then, “Gary.”
“Your name is Gary,” Sam said.
“Yes.”
“Ah. That’s… not very unicorn-like.”
Gary scowled. “And what is unicorn-like?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Like Princess Moon Cloud or Ethereal Tear or Star Shine.”
“You think a normal unicorn name is Princess Moon Cloud or Ethereal Tear or Star Shine.”
“Yes.”
Gary looked up at Tiggy. “Yes. We can keep him.”
Tiggy held him tighter.
They stayed in the clearing and Gary and Tiggy told him how they’d escaped from a traveling carnival where they’d both been held prisoner by a man named Koklanaris. He’d kept them in cages for months, charging humans to come in and gawk at them, calling them unnatural wonders of the mysterious world. One night, not long before they’d met Sam in the clearing, Koklanaris had gotten drunk and hadn’t properly redone the wards and dark charms that kept them in the cages. They’d escaped and run as far as they could until their legs grew tired and they could run no more.
Sam heard this story and felt a heavy weight on his heart. He reached out and touched Gary’s face, running his hands gently along his snout. “Did he take your horn?” he asked quietly.
Gary shuddered and shook his head. “That happened. Before.”
“You’re very pretty,” the boy said. “With or without it, you’re very pretty.”
And the unicorn said, “Thank you, little twink,” pressing his face against the boy’s.
They stayed the night in the clearing and the boy shared his food. They slept curled around each other until there came an angry snarl from the woods.
They woke instantly and the unicorn and the half-giant began to tremble.
Men stood in the clearing. Four of them, holding ropes and chains. There was one who seemed to lead the others. He stood in front of them, eyes shrewd and calculating. He was tall and imposing, looking as if he’d been carved cruelly from a mountain. His head was shaved and as Sam watched, he unfurled a whip in his hand.
“Those are my property, boy,” the man said. His voice was like gravel and it grated on the boy’s ears.
The boy shook his head. “They’re no one’s property. You can’t own what belongs to the world.”
Koklanaris (for there was no doubt in the boy’s mind who he was) said, “Is that so? And who are you to stand in my way?”
“Sam,” the boy said. “And these are my friends.”
“Monsters don’t have friends,” Koklanaris said. “They exist to make me money and nothing more. Step aside and let the adults handle this.”
“I am the apprentice to the King’s Wizard,” Sam said, standing tall. “You answer to the Crown, and I am an extension of that Crown.”
The men laughed. Koklanaris said, “Boy, I don’t give two shits who you are. Step aside before I kill you.” He cracked the whip, and Tiggy whined quietly in fear.
Sam had had enough.
There was an anger in him, then. That the hearts of men could be so dark that they could not see the beauty of the creatures before them. This Sam was not the same Sam who turned the boys to stone in that alley years before. This Sam was practiced. This Sam was controlled. This Sam had friends, finally had friends that he would do anything to protect.
This Sam said, “Leave. I’ll give you one chance.”
Koklanaris raised his whip, and Sam raised his hands. Words came to him, words he’d never used before like gre and san and his fingers moved and twitched as the whip came down. Before the leather could crack against his skin, the green of the forest filled Sam’s eyes and instead of pain, Sam felt the flutter of wings.
He opened his eyes and saw the whip had turned into dozens of butterflies, and they fluttered in the moonlight, swirling around Sam and Koklanaris. Tiggy and Gary gasped behind him and the men behind Koklanaris took a step back.
Koklanaris grew angry. He raised his hand back to slap the boy, but the boy said, “I could kill you,” and Koklanaris hesitated.
“I really could,” the boy said pleasantly. “I could kill you with the smallest of thoughts.”
Koklanaris slapped him. The boy’s head rocked back.
Tiggy roared. Gary growled.
And Sam (who was not the boy in the alley anymore) said, “You shouldn’t have done that,” while raising his hands again.
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The men in the clearing ran.
Koklanaris said, “You don’t scare me.”
“I do,” Sam said. “You’re sweating.”
“I smash,” Tiggy said in a low voice. “I smash so good.”
And the carnival man’s eyes widened in fear and he too left the clearing. He looked back only once but then he was gone.
They waited until the fleeing men could no longer be heard before they each let out the breaths they’d been holding.
“You okay?” Sam asked his friends.
And Tiggy picked him up again and held him close. He said, “Tiny Sam. Tiny Sam. Tiny Sam.”
They left when morning came.
As they reached the gates to the City of Lockes, people began to stare. They whispered about the boy from the slums who came back to the city from a wizard’s quest with a half-giant and a hornless unicorn.
Morgan waited for him at the castle gates with his mother and father. The King was there too, and he had a small smile on his face as he watched them approach. The Prince was not there, but Sam didn’t think too much on that.
Morgan said, “And what have you brought me?”
“Something unexpected,” Sam said proudly.
“You return from the wilds with a half-giant and a unicorn,” Morgan said. “That is very unexpected.”
But the boy shook his head. “That’s not the unexpected part.”
Morgan, in his infinite wisdom, said, “Oh?”
“I went into the wilds alone, and I returned with friends,” Sam said. “I’ve never had a friend on my own before. And now I have two. Unexpectedly.”
And the great wizard looked away and took a stuttering breath. When he looked back at the boy, his eyes were bright and he said, “I think the most unexpected thing of all is you, little one. Because no one could ever hope to fathom the wilds of your heart. You were sent out on a quest and returned with more than I could have ever believed. I will give you your name now. Because you’ve earned it.”