“Phew, I can’t do it dad. It’s too hard,” Gaius confessed as he gave up on trying to make the orb ‘go away’.

Through their excited grins and discovery they both forgot about their son for a moment. An Antimage— was a rare breed throughout the kingdom, perhaps even the world. Duncan and Tulia didn’t know much about them, their origin a mystery; but the two of them have dealt with a few antimages in the past when they were both in the Alirian Army.

“Captain! Scout Si is here to make a report,” someone yelled beside the watchtower. The two married couple was shaken back to reality and before Tulia broke away from her husband and son, she smiled and nodded vigorously at her husband low whispers. Duncan and Gaius stayed around for a while to listen to the report as well.

Tulia reverted back to her commanding air, although not so different from her ‘stern-mother air’.

“Report,” she curtly said.

“8 kwach’a approach us ma’am. They’ll be here in less than an hour. It seems that most of them are battered and worn, most likely a remnant from the main herd. I’ve also spotted Alirian banners giving chase, most likely the garrison troops from Fort Winter,” scout Armeta Si reported.

“Dismissed.” Tulia turned to the soldier atop the watchtower and ordered him, “At first sight, sound the alarm. I’m going to report to the chief.”

Tulia turned around and headed to the center of the village with her husband and son in tow. Upon arriving at the chief’s home, Tulia loudly banged on the door twice. A middle-aged man with a tan face and a medium frame answered the door. “Ah, captain, what news?”

“Armeta reports 8 kwach’a heading our way, they’ll be here in less than an hour. Also garrison troops giving them chase. I advise you to have the villagers take refuge within the community center or within their homes, but preferably the former,” Tulia concisely reported.

“Hmm, alright. Let’s do as you say,” the chief responded while eyeing Duncan and Gaius, “I assume you two will be coming with me?”

“Yes,” Duncan said.

Tens of minutes later, a steady stream of people were still filtering into the community center—a large building built for many functions, one of which was to provide refuge for situations like this. Duncan was helping the chief and others file people through the doors in an orderly fashion while other adults ensured that the villagers would have enough space to sit. Gaius, lost in the sea of people coincidently bumped into his brother.

“Gen!”

“Gaius!”

They both yelled at each other. “What are you doing here?” they both asked. With a chuckle, Gaius responded first, “I was with dad the whole day, and we ended up here to help the chief out. What about you? The barracks isn’t safe enough for you?”

Gen laughed and shook his head, “the barracks is empty. All of the adults are with mom guarding the village, the rest of the trainee kids like me were sent here. I heard some of the adults talk about a kwach’a? They’re gigantic lizards with metal scythes and a metal tail, and they’re as big as our houses!”

A slight shriek was heard by the side of the two boys, and they turned to look at whatever made that sound to find Kumi with her hands covering her mouth. Her eyes wide in fear she muttered softly, “Are they really that big?” The two boys are stunned that she was standing by their side, and they both wondered how long she had been standing there.

Gen forgot about his shyness and answered her question with enthusiasm, “Yeah! That’s what all of the soldiers say. The kwach’a use their tails to spear their prey and eat with it like forks! Also, they said that if the kwach’a is powerful enough, they can grow 10-15 tails!”

“What? Really? I hope mom will be okay,” Gaius sadly said. As if Gaius had just uttered a magic spell, a low hum crescendos into a roaring blast that can be felt and heard throughout the village. The kwach’a have finally been spotted.

On the watchtower bordering the town, Tulia stood tall amidst her sergeants staring at the approaching kwach’a. She and a few of her more seasoned veterans devised a plan to survive this attack to the best of their abilities. Because the kwach’a were not violent in nature and don’t usually feast on human flesh, they’ve decided to hunker down within their buildings and wait for this attack to pass. With any luck they will be unscathed. While she and her sergeants stood atop the watchtower, the rest of the village guard—about 500 in total, was scattered throughout the village but concentrated around the community center. The village guard stood tall and ready atop the buildings in the village—homes, shops, the community center, or other public facilities, using it as a natural tower. Relying on the tough, yet absorbent nature of the Golden Bark trees, the plan was to watch the kwach’a enter the village and run through without engaging a single one in combat.

Tulia also augmented this plan to help the garrison guards capture or kill the remnant by blockading certain streets within the village, hoping to corral them into a kill-zone. Kwach’a are not known for their jumping abilities, so Tulia stood there hoping the height of each barricade is enough to funnel them through to dead ends.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

As the horn blared those within the vicinity of the community center rush into it, while the others further moved into nearby homes as their doors swung open accepting anyone on the streets to capacity. From her vantage point, Tulia smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as the streets were now perfectly empty. At this time, the kwach’a finally reached the watchtower. Being so close, Tulia could see the wounds, cuts, and missing limbs of the kwach’a herd, “Perhaps we didn’t need to plan so cautiously,” she thought to herself.

The kwach’a remnant rushed into the village at several entry points and Tulia could see them scurry and scatter. Two of the kwach’a halted at a dead end, while they screeched and squawked at their displeasure. One began to slash at the empty houses in front of it, while Golden Bark is a tough and sturdy material—comparable to light weight iron, its main ability is to regenerate. Without a mage tapping into its unique properties however, the bark skin stayed inert. The other nearby kwach’a joined and also began slashing at the home. The other 6 kwach’a were scattered across the village but they all eventually met dead ends, both groups contained only 3 kwach’a each.

When all of the kwach’a were successfully corralled into dead ends, Tulia thought to herself, “Should I give the command to open fire? No, no reason to put them in danger. We can sit and wait till the garrison troops arrive.” She shifted her gaze to the horizon and saw the approaching regiment.

“Villager! Have the kwach’a herd run through your village or are you engaging them?” a tattered soldier shouted.

Tulia replied, “We have trapped the kwach’a within our village, but none of my guards have engaged them. Come.”

At her beckoning, the soldier created a pillar of earth under his feet and it shot up the length of the watchtower. He easily walked off his earthen pillar and onto the watchtower.

He immediately saw the maze-like village layout and smiled at their ingenuity. He began to order his men to appropriate cul-de-sacs. The garrison mages began to condense their Aspect and hurl elemental fury upon the trapped kwach’a. Seeing the garrison mages, the village guards also tried to lend a helping hand by firing arrows or condensing elemental Aspects of their own. Compared to the thick, rich, and dense aura of the garrison mages however, the spells thrown by the village guards paled in comparison, some of their spells even sputtered and faded away before reaching the kwach’a pack. The condensation of so many auras bloomed within the city and just like that, in a matter of seconds, 8 of the kwach’a laid dead in their streets.

The soldier turned to Tulia and said, “Ah, where are my manners. I am Rubio Song, Captain of the Mages stationed at Fort Winter. Is this your handiwork?” he gestured to the maze-like village below them.

“I’m Tulia Wyn, Captain of the Guard. With the effort of all of my guardsmen, we were able to come up with this plan. Early reports and sightings also help tremendously. Also, your riders provided adequate warning 2 days prior,” she flatly reported.

Rubio nodded with a smile, “Well, you all have certainly done us a service. Your actions have allowed us to further minimize our losses, and for that we’re thankful. To reciprocate, we’ll leave behind 3 of the dead kwach’a of your choosing. How does that sound?”

“You honor us with your words Captain Song, I will relay your message to the village chief. I am sure he will want to speak with you,” Tulia replied.

Back at the community center, Gaius was surprised to feel the eruption of so many densely rich auras wash over him, but in another few seconds they disappeared leaving him craving for more. Soon the doors of the community center swung open, although Gaius could not see his mother, he can feel her familiar aura and knew that she was near.

“Chief Hemuk, this is Captain Rubio Song of the Mages stationed within Fort Winter. He came to our rescue and eliminated the kwach’a threat,” Tulia reported with respect as she and Rubio made their way to the chief.

“Our village is in your debt, great captain. If there is anything my village can do for you, all you need to do is ask,” Hemuk humbly replied.

Seeing their deferential attitude, Rubio nodded in approval and returned the face that he had been given, “It is actually the genius of your Captain of the Guard here. Funneling the kwach’a into cul-de-sacs allowed my mages to easily kill the pack without so much as a scratch. To show you my gratitude, you may choose any 3 kwach’a corpses.”

Delighted at the prospect of harvesting the abundant iron materials from the kwach’a bones, the chief smiled and graciously accepted the token of gratitude. “You and your men must be tired from chasing the kwach’a across the taiga, please stay and enjoy our hospitality.”

“If it will not be too much of a bother, I will accept,” Rubio replied.

“Nonsense! It will be our honor to hosts such esteemed guests,” the chief said.

With the presence of the garrison troops and the death of the kwach’a pack, the gloomy atmosphere finally lifted as if a physical weight disappeared from the shoulders of all villagers. The community center began an orderly evacuation. Most of the villagers started on their day-to-day chores while others prepared for the banquet.

The two boys finally made it home with their father. Tulia accompanied the chief in showing Captain Song around the village. Gaius was leisurely stretching across one of the sofas when Duncan said, “Gaius. I have good news.” Catching both of the boys’ attention, Duncan smiled and continued, “Your mother and I were able to figure out why you aren’t able to condense an Aspect.”

If a bolt of lightning struck down in the middle of their living room, Gaius and Gen could not possibly be more surprised than they are now. The one singular thing that Gaius wanted the most in the world was to not be different and just fit in like the rest of his family, and now his father just spoke the magic words. If they were able to finally understand what ailed him, then perhaps they could also find a cure for his malady.

With expecting eyes from the two boys, Duncan said, “You’re an Antimage.”

“Huh?” Gaius was a bit confused. His father could have said, ‘You’re a flimflam’, and it would have made as much sense. “Antimage. Antimage… hmm. Anti-mage.” Gaius juggled the word within his mind trying to understand what it meant. “Does this mean that I don’t have magic? Anti . . . mage.” Looking at his son’s concentrated face brought a smile to Duncan and he alleviated his son’s problem, “An Antimage is a practitioner that is skilled at fighting other mages. They are very strong, and besides knowing that they can control all Aspects not much else is known about them.”

“So, there are other people out there like me?” Gaius, to his surprise, didn’t realize how much of a relief that single nugget of knowledge would bring him—he was not alone, there were others. If the death of the kwach’a pack brought relief to him earlier, then learning this piece of knowledge was like growing wings and soaring above the clouds. Gaius was elated, for the first time in his life he didn’t feel so lost, as if his life now had a goal or purpose—to learn as much as he could about what it means to be an ‘Antimage’.