The Mage's Son

by T Ariyanna

  Arion took a breath and put all of his magical energy into one last try. He pushed his mark against the metal with a yell and yanked the trap into two separate pieces. One slammed against the ground, and the other slipped from his grip and was sent flying into the trees. Arion stared down at his work, amazed. He laughed triumphantly and raised his fists into the air.

  As soon as the wolf pup was free it was on Arion, tackling him to the ground. They tumbled over each other a few times, but the wolf came out on top. It pinned Arion's shoulders, so that his back was soaking up what little moisture was in the earth. Its face was mere inches from his own, baby teeth sharp against his throat.

  Though everything about the wolf was intimidating, Arion saw the terror in its eyes, clear as day. Arion raised his hand slowly, still warm. He grabbed the wolf's hurt leg just tight enough to keep it in his grasp, and a green light emitted from his hand. The wolf snapped at his hand, but never caught skin, and desperately tried to pull away from him. It was yelping hysterically, and its eyes were wild.

  Once the light had faded, Arion released the wolf. It pounced away and rolled on its back while looking at every inch of its leg. It sniffed at it before returning to its feet. He hopped around on it, limping at first, but soon jumping around. The wolf stirred small bugs and dust into the air, which it chased to the edges of the light.

  The wolf turned back to Arion. He was met with a slobbery tongue rather than a full set of teeth at his neck.

  He pushed the pup away and stood up, laughing. He wiped the slobber from his face with the back of his hand. When he opened his eyes, the pup was standing in front of him with his glove in his mouth. He lunged into a crouch like he wanted to play, and dropped the glove to yip at Arion.

  “Do you have a name?” he asked. He bent down to pick up his glove, and rested a hand on the pup's head to calm him down. “Name?” he asked again, unsure if the animal understood him. “Do animals even have names?” He slipped on his glove as he mused aloud.

  The wolf simply barked again and ran off into the darkness. Arion fell onto the ground. The loneliness was already sinking in. He dropped his head and drew in the dirt with his finger.

  The silence was broken by an excited bark, and Arion jolted up. The pup was back, but stood a little further away. It spun in place and barked again. Arion got to his feet again and started to walk towards the pup. It growled lightly at him, and he froze. The pup dipped its head and Arion looked down. He tilted his head every which way as the wolf drew in the dirt, though he couldn't make out what it was from his angle. He moved to stand beside the pup before he could make sense of the word dug out of the ground.

  “Tuft?” he read aloud. The wolf barked and rubbed a paw against his chest, where a small spot of black fur stood out against the gray. “That's your name?” The pup yipped again, and jumped in circles around Arion. He ducked his head under his hand and licked his fingers.

  Arion giggled until Tuft's tongue touched his wound, and he cringed in pain. He jerked his hand away so fast that Tuft shrank to the ground and flattened his ears.

  “Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I got cut and it hurts.” Arion held his wounded hand out, bleeding again.

  Tuft crawled up to him and sniffed the wound. He licked it gently, and Arion's fingers twitched in pain, but he didn't pull away. Tuft stopped licking, and Arion stared at his hand. There was now a pink scar where the cut had been.

  “Are you magic, too?” Arion asked with wide eyes.

  Tuft nodded once, staring at Arion. “Thank you.”

  Arion's brow furrowed, confused as to why Tuft was looking at him with such wide eyes. “Oh, duh!” Arion exclaimed, smacking his palm on his forehead. He shot out a hand and said, “I'm Arion Hunts. Nice to meet ya, Tuft!”

  Tuft hopped and went to lick Arion's hand. He shook the drool off, laughing, and Tuft barked as if he was laughing with him.

  As their laughter faded away into the silence of the woods, reality crashed down on Arion. He looked around them slowly, his smile falling into a deep frown. “How do I get home?” he whispered.

  He shrugged. “I guess we start with walking.” Arion puffed his chest out and marched toward the edge of the small clearing.

  Tuft grabbed the back of his shirt in his teeth and held Arion back. When Arion turned to him, Tuft yipped and ran off in the other direction. He stopped at the far edge of the trees, yipped again, and disappeared.

  “Wait up!” Arion yelled as he bolted after the wolf. “Where are you going? Come back!”

  The wolf always stayed far ahead of Arion. He realized quickly that Tuft was leading him, but to where, he didn’t know as they dove deeper into the forest.

  When Arion started to lose his strength, he stopped to rest. His stomach gurgled in protest, and Arion was forced to remember just how hungry he was. He felt faint, and slumped to the ground. He folded his arms over his stomach and winced, Tuft whimpering at his side.

  Tuft barked twice and went ahead, and returned with a small bunny hanging from his mouth. The fur was torn, and blood stained Tuft's muzzle.

  “I can't it eat raw!” Arion burst, scooting away from the dripping blood. His stomach rumbled again in protest. “It'll make me sick. That won't help,” he muttered, eyeing the rabbit. Tuft blew hot air at him through his nose, and then turned around to eat it himself.

  When he was done, Tuft bolted into the woods again, this time reappearing with a sprig of wrinkled, dark blue berries. He dropped it in Arion's lap, but the boy didn't move.

  “You sure they're safe?” Arion asked. Tuft nodded, and nudged them further up Arion's lap with his nose.

  Arion picked the smallest berry he could find and popped it into his mouth. The skin of the berry was soft, and split easily to release a burst of juice. It was the sweetest thing Arion had ever tasted. Even after just one, he felt better. The rest of the berries were gone in seconds, and Arion's hunger was finally sated. He licked his fingers clean of the juice and wiped them on his pants.

  Before Arion could even stand up, Tuft was tugging at the leg of his pants. They walked through the woods together at a calm pace, Tuft putting himself between Arion and any noise he heard.

  The trees got denser as they walked. Arion walked closer to Tuft and grabbed the fur on his back. “I don't like it here,” Arion whispered. Every tree they passed seemed to stare at them, and the branches curled around and over them like claws.

  His shirt was pulled from behind him, and Arion screamed, falling backwards. Tuft lunged for what had grabbed him and tore it to the ground. He shook it in his mouth, growling. The wolf stopped short and dropped it, then sniffed it. He picked it back up and showed it to Arion. His cheeks burned upon seeing that it was just a branch.

  “I swear it was a hand or something,” Arion squeaked. Tuft sat back on his hind legs and licked Arion's cheek before continuing onward. Arion walked as close to Tuft as he could the rest of the way through the woods.

  Chapter 4

  “I don't think we should be here,” Arion whispered, lagging behind Tuft. He had led them to a large castle, overgrown with weeds and vines. “Everyone says there's a monster here, Tuft. Tuft!”

  Arion ran after the wolf as he pushed against the giant wooden doors. They were so large, that Arion couldn't even reach the door handles. He doubted he could push them open. “I guess we can't get in,” he said, backing away from the doors.

  Tuft barked at him from beside the doors. The wolf jumped up and pawed at a plaque on the wall, and barked at Arion again.

  He looked around before joining Tuft. Most of the plaque was covered in rust, dirt and spider webs. He wiped them away with shaking hands, and gasped at what he saw. There were no words on the plaque, only an engraving of a large lightning bolt, not much different from the one that adorned his palm.

  He stared at his scar. It was emitting a faint green light. When he looked back to the plaque, a darker green light was coming from the bolt. Arion looked to Tuft, and the wolf nodded
in encouragement. Arion swallowed hard, and raised his hand to the plaque.

  The lights grew brighter, mixing together until they were almost blinding when he touched his palm to the cold metal. He scrunched his eyes and turned his head away. There were sounds of shuffling and snapping, and Arion opened his eyes to see the castle come to life.

  The vines broke from the castle walls, falling to the ground around him, shriveling and bursting into dust before his eyes. The doors opened wide, and a long train of light poured out from inside the building.

  Arion's jaw dropped. Tuft jumped around him, barking as loud as he could before running into the building. “Tuft, no! Wait!” Arion called, chasing after him.

  He caught the wolf in the center of the castle's entry halls, and the doors slammed shut behind them. Staring at the large doors in the dark, Arion wrapped his arms around Tuft's neck and squeezed.

  The entry room was bigger than his house. Paintings of creatures covered the walls. Ornate rugs spread across the floor, and an army of suits of armor lined the edges of the room. Arion feared they would come to life and attack.

  Tuft wriggled out of his grip and bounced around. He barked at Arion until the boy stood up and followed him throughout the castle. Though at first it seemed to Arion that the wolf was just wandering around the new environment, he soon realized that he had a destination. Tuft took him through numerous rooms that Arion longed to stop in, but he feared he would get lost without Tuft, so he stayed close to him. They climbed countless flights of stairs until Tuft stopped in front of a small door, wagging his tail and panting.

  Arion pushed it open and waited, but Tuft didn't move. The wolf whined and nudged his nose towards the room, laying down. Arion walked in on his own, glancing back at Tuft.

  It was a circular room, with windows that covered the top half of the walls. Storage cases and shelving filled the room and were packed with books, making it nearly inaccessible. It was as though a whole house worth's of possessions were stored in the small room, though the items were anything but normal.

  He thought about his bed, how he had always been safe there. Tome was still in his room, stuck there without him. He knew he had to go home, but going home meant returning to his father. “He wouldn't actually kill me. I'm his son, he couldn't. He said. . .he said I didn't understand, maybe if I go back and talk to him. . .” He trailed off, unable to meet Tuft's sorrowful gaze.

  Arion waded through the mess to the closest window and looked out. A small smile crept upon his face as he gazed over his home, off in the distance. He put his hand to the glass and wished he was home more than he ever had. He also saw the forest that filled the space between, and dreaded going back in.

  Tuft whined from his spot outside the door, and Arion looked back at him. When he had his attention, Tuft grazed the rest of the room with his eyes. With a deep breath, Arion set his mind to shifting through the boxes, cupboards, and chests that filled the room.

  Prying open the first box, he found nothing but pages written in a language he didn't understand, and a colored map with the same writing. He shuffled through a few papers, but lost interest. He found the same thing in the next few boxes, and moved to a new section of the room.

  At the wall farthest from the door was a line of shelves. Some held bottles of glowing liquids, and some were empty. The others held varying sizes of clay jars with labels. What labels he could read repulsed Arion, like “Dragon's Blood,” and “Snake Venom.” Some bottles were labeled with pictures, and others had no label. One such jar was filled with different colored eyeballs. Arion suppressed a shudder as he quickly moved on.

  One corner of the room had a pile just of gears, cogs, wires, and metal scraps. His eyes gleamed as he looked the pieces over, and his fingers twitched with the desire to make something out of them. He sat down near the pile and began digging through it. Tuft stopped him with a bark, and shook his head when Arion looked at him.

  “What do you want me to find? There's nothing here for me!” Arion yelled, throwing his arms in the air as he stood up.

  Tuft turned his head and gave a small yip. Arion looked to find a small desk in the darkest corner.

  He walked over to the desk, automatically reaching for the candle that sat atop it. He looked around for matches, but couldn't spot any in the dark. He picked up the candle, wishing he knew how to light it. Remembering the flame he used to make the locket, he tried lighting the candle. The wick wouldn't take to the small flame, and Arion gave up with a huff. He ran his hands over the sides, and found carvings in the wax. Tracing the outline, he found lightning bolts covering the candle.

  “It does need magic,” he whispered. Unsure of what else to do, he closed his eyes and wished for light. Arion opened his eyes to the sound of crackling fire. He opened his mouth to rejoice, but his attention was captured before he could.

  Other than the candle, the desk was home to one other object. A small box with a simple clasp sat perfectly in the middle, untouched by dust or time. Carved intricately on the lid of the box were the letters “T. L.”

  “Mom,” Arion gasped. He flipped the clasp and opened the box. Inside was a small glass ball, with black smoke swirling inside of it. He placed one finger on the glass, and the smoke collected where he touched. He yanked his hand away and the smoke resumed its rotation, though it was faster than it had been before.

  In front of the ball was a small switch. The box looked too small to have any sort of mechanism in it, but he flipped it anyway. The air around him filled with music, and Arion closed his eyes. It was a chorus of soft tones, Arion guessed he heard a flute, and a low string instrument, though he couldn't tell for sure. The best word to describe its sound was magical.

  “I know this song,” he whispered. A high-pitched bell joined in.

  He hummed along with the song, until the tune changed. It was the same song, that he could tell, but it was a part he had never heard.

  He opened his eyes when he no longer heard the music, and noticed that the smoke in the ball was moving, changing colors in time with the song. It ended as a soft violet color, and remained.

  Arion smiled wide and closed the box. He picked it up, and looked it over. “This was my Mom's. It had to have been. Was…was all of this hers?”

  Arion looked around the room as he clutched the music box to his chest. It gave off a heat that comforted Arion in a way he had never been before.

  “Did she live here? Was it before, or after she met Father? And what about the monster the villagers talk about? I…I don't understand. This is a lot to take in.” Arion rubbed his forehead, his eyes searching the room for any answers. “All of this is old. Maybe a collector lived here, found the box, and kept it…”

  He glanced to Tuft for any sign of an answer. The gaze the pup returned was sad, and held a truth within them that Arion couldn't grasp.

  “Maybe she's not dead,” he whispered, his fantasies spilling from his mouth. “This box wasn't dusty. It was moved recently. If this was hers, maybe…maybe she's still alive, but someone kidnapped her, or…or…or made her leave me! I…I have to find her. I have to find out what happened!”

  He spun in circles, his eyes searching for any clues, but his attention was caught by something else entirely. Just outside of the window hovered a small black owl, with white speckles across its wings and belly. Its large eyes stared at Arion.

  “Snow?” he asked, squinting his eyes. He took a few steps toward the window, but the owl dove straight down. “Snow!”

  Still clutching the box in his arms, Arion bolted out of the room. He ran past Tuft, who barked at him frantically, but didn't slow down. The wolf followed after him, nipping at his heels as he ran.

  “I have to follow him, Tuft. He can take me home!” Arion yelled behind him. The wolf followed Arion through the castle, trying to stop him.

  Arion ran through the castle as if he had lived there his entire life. He knew every turn and twist he should take, and found the front door, now wide open, in a matter
of minutes. Just outside of the door, Snow circled in midair, waiting for him.

  Arion ran outside and fell to the ground, panting, the pup collapsing beside him. Snow dropped to his shoulder and rubbed his soft feathers against his face.

  “I missed you,” Arion said between gasps for air. Snow fluttered a wing against his cheek, and then noticed the pup behind him.

  Snow lunged for Tuft, stopping inches in front of his muzzle. Tuft fell to his belly in fear, but his eyes were defiant. Snow hovered before him for a moment, as though they were speaking somehow. Tuft let out a forceful bark, and Snow smacked the pup with a wing. Tuft backed away from the owl, but there was still fire in his eyes. Snow shook his feathers out, turning back to Arion.

  “Can you take me home, now?” he asked as soon as he had caught his breath. Tuft snatched a piece of Arion's shirt, dragging him back toward the castle. He whined loudly, his eyes begging. Arion tore his shirt away, and stepped closer to Snow. “I…I'll be fine, Tuft really. He's my father. I told you, he won't kill me. Besides, all my stuff is there, and my book, too. I have to go back. It's where I…where I belong.” Arion gulped, wishing more than anything that he spoke the truth.

  “I can't stay here. What if the owner comes back, and catches me? They could be a psycho, or a murderer. I need to go back to what I know.”

  The wolf looked up, but his eyes held a deep sorrow. He was pleading with Arion, and the boy could feel a strange longing to stay, but he was afraid.

  “I'll come back to play again, I promise!” Arion insisted. When the pup didn't move, he turned back to Snow. “Ready?” he asked, clutching the music box to his chest.