“Maybe she’d be more interested if you actually applied yourself,” their mother snapped. Her eyes flicking from Micah to Trevor and back. “If you paid any attention, you’d know she’s sweet on Warrick.”
“Warrick?” Trevor asked in confusion, “the baker? Why would Anna like cragface so much? He’s boring, greasy and more than a little fat.”
“He also takes his profession seriously and has an Uncommon blessing,” she responded, not missing a beat. “Women like a man with some stability. Warrick has a job and a blessing. Maybe she’ll take your flowers more seriously when you can say the same.”
Micah shifted uneasily. His mother stared at him while she spoke to Trevor. It was clear that her words were directed at him rather than his lovestruck older brother.
“But I’m really good with the spear Mom,” Trevor complained. “I’m sure to get a blessing and a job as an adventurer. Why can’t Anna see that?”
“Not everyone who works hard gets a blessing,” she turned her back on the family, but Micah could see her hand tremble as it grasped the counter.
“I just want the best for both of you,” when she resumed speaking, her voice shook. “Even if you don’t get a strong blessing, an apprenticeship will set you up for the rest of your life. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”
“What are you talking about Mom?” Trevor looked around the silent room, confusion evident on his face. “Even if I don’t end up with a super powerful blessing, I can always join the City guard. I’m good enough with my spear to pass the test already.”
“She’s talking about me Trevor,” Micah spoke up. “I told her that I planned on not taking an apprenticeship so that I could focus on training. She still wants me to go to the interview with Keeper Ansom, but I’ve made up my mind.”
“But Micah,” Trevor frowned. “No offense, but you’re the smart one of the family. I could only get an interview with the butcher and a brick maker. Those definitely aren’t the kind of skills I want to turn into a blessing. Gods, could you imagine getting a brickmaking blessing. I’d rather be forgotten.”
“Some of us do just fine with a tailoring blessing,” Micah’s father interjected with a chuckle. “Now sit down, both of you, and have breakfast. We can talk about Micah’s future and Trevor’s love life later. For now, just sit down and we’ll eat like a family.”
Micah sat down and suffered through the meal. His father and Esther engaged all of them in small talk while his mother stared daggers at him. Trevor? He spent most of breakfast moping.
Finally, the meal finished. Micah helped clean up and wipe down the table, all the while suffering under his mother’s withering gaze. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. Every detail of her body language screamed her dissatisfaction with Micah.
After escaping the kitchen, he tracked Trevor down. His brother was performing basic spear forms in the back garden. Thrust, sweep, recover. He repeated the same three actions over and over again as sweat poured down his topless body.
Micah watched him for a minute. Each thrust and sweep landed on target with impressive speed and accuracy. Even without a level in a class, Trevor possessed admirable control and power. It was easy to see why he’d been granted an Uncommon blessing despite spending most of his time chasing girls.
He cleared his throat.
Trevor didn’t react to the sound, lashing out with the butt of his spear at an imaginary target. Micah shrugged.
“Trevor,” this time his brother stopped practicing and turned to face Micah. The older youth frowned at him slightly. “Sorry for getting you in trouble with Mom back there.”
“Nah,” Trevor’s face erupted into a smile in response to Micah’s apology. “You know her. She’d find an excuse to yell at me no matter what you did. If everything isn’t going perfectly according to her plan, someone is going to get an earful.”
“It’s because she’s forgotten,” Micah shrugged as he walked over to join his brother. “She might not talk about it that much, but she’s fairly sensitive. She just doesn’t want us to end up like her so she pushes us hard. It might be annoying, but I get it.”
“Huh,” Trevor leaned his spear against the house before grabbing a towel to wipe his sweat off. “I never really thought about it. I usually just avoid her when she gets cranky.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re struggling with women,” Micah chuckled, picking up the spear before twirling it once in his grip. “You just react to the things they say rather than what they actually mean.”
“Careful with that,” Trevor stepped backward as Micah flowed through the first form of Wind Spear, the faint hint of mana coating the weapon’s head. “Wait, Micah, where in the hells did you learn how to do that?”
He didn’t answer, instead infusing more mana into the spear. The air whistles around him, flowing past the weapon as it traced green lines of force in the morning light. Finally, he finished the form and set the spear down before turning back to Trevor with a smile on his face.
“I don’t think I need an apprenticeship,” Micah wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his brow. “I don’t really want to talk about it in the City, but I was thinking that it might be nice if we left town for me to train with you.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d be the one training with you after that display,” Trevor replied with a low whistle. “I’m not an expert but that looked like a martial art to me, but that would mean that you have your mana unlocked.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You’re right,” Micah flashed a grin at Trevor. “I’ll be the one training you. Also, keep it to yourself, but my mana is unlocked. There’s a lot I can teach you before your blessing, the only problem is that we don’t have that much time before you turn sixteen.”
“What do you mean?” Trevor asked, confusion on his face as Micah walked away. “Seriously, Micah. You’re acting like a grown up, and a weird one at that. What in the hells is going on?”
“Meet me at the City gate in an hour,” Micah winked at him. “Bring your spear. We don’t have a lot of time if I’m going to whip you into shape.”
“But don’t the Gods just pick your blessing and classes based upon your interests?” Trevor asked, a frown growing on his face. “Why would I need to do anything other than make sure I’m strong enough for a combat class once I get it.”
Micah rolled his eyes as he walked away. He needed his own spear and some quartz to enchant it. If he started answering Trevor’s questions he’d be stuck in the courtyard all day. Revealing his skill levels in Wind Spear should be enough to raise his brother’s interest. If he knew Trevor, the man wouldn’t be willing to let the issue drop until he learned Micah’s secret.
One hour and a point of attunement later, Micah stood at the gates to Basil’s Cove, a spear slung over his shoulder and a pouch full of reagents on his hip. The reagents were common and he’d been able to purchase them for free as a youth. The spear on the other hand was well crafted. Not exactly a masterwork, but an ash haft and a razor sharp steel head, it was a weapon that any warrior would be happy to wield.
A merchant’s caravan rumbled by him, oxen pulling the sun-bleached wood of the wagon past the gate after a cursory check from the guards. Micah frowned slightly, shifting away from the steady stream of people entering and leaving Basil’s Cove, covered in traveling leathers and dust.
Finally, Trevor jogged up to the gate, blushing and covered in sweat, his spear slung over his shoulder.
“Sorry Micah,” he stuttered, not making eye contact. “I got held up on my way out of the house. Mom made me promise to ‘try and talk some sense into you.’ Apparently I need to convince you to go to your interview with Keeper Ansom.”
“If you still think I need an apprenticeship after today,” Micah shrugged noncommittally as he led the two of them out of the city, “I’ll be happy to make the appointment.”
The guards looked them over briefly before waving them on. It wasn’t terribly common for youths to leave civilization in order to train their skills, but it also wasn’t entirely unheard of. Micah did his best to ignore Trevor's nervous energy as his brother veritably vibrated with unasked questions beside them.
“What in the names of the Sixteen is going on Micah,” Trevor hissed at him as soon as the city walls were out of sight. “You’re acting all mysterious and it's weirding me out. Just yesterday you were trying to convince me to help you sneak sweets into the house and now you’re doing impossible things.”
“Do you promise to keep this a secret,” Micah, glanced at his brother. “I know for a fact that pretty awful things will happen to both of us if what I’m about to tell you becomes general knowledge.”
“What did you do Micah?” Trevor’s eyes grew wide. “Did you steal something from a noble? Are we coming out here to bury it? By the Sixteen, what sort of trouble are you in?”
“Nothing like that,” Micah sighed. “Put simply? I’m from the future. In three years I will awaken a Mythic blessing that allows me to travel back in time if I’m trapped in some sort of dead end.”
“Then why did you say you were in trouble?” Trevor asked, confusion written all over his furrowed brow.
“I suppose we all are,” Micah guided them off the road and into the forest. “In about five years, the Durgh will attack. Unless they’re stopped they will wipe out Westmarch and then Basil’s Cove. You are slated to die fairly early in the attack.”
“What?” Trevor questioned him dumbly. “The Kingdom has an alliance with them, that would never happen. What’s actually going on?”
Micah didn’t even look at him, instead trying to make out landmarks as he led the two of them through the forest outside of Basil’s Cove.
“Trevor,” Micah tried to keep the exasperation from his voice. “When I was ten you helped Becky steal Mom’s peppers and smeared my clothes with them. Then, you blamed Becky for it and I hated her for years. In the future, you revealed all of this to me so that I could make the you in the past believe me.”
“Becky could have told you that,” Trevor shifted his spear from one shoulder to the other nervously as they walked.
“Would Becky have told me that you like both boys and girls,” Micah kept his gaze ahead, watching his footing as he wove through the dense underbrush.
“What!” Trevor sputtered. “No I don’t! Who told you that?”
“Again,” Micah continued, struggling to keep his voice amiable, “you did.”
“Look,” he cut his brother off. “I know that you’re just going to protest and claim that I’ve got it all wrong, but we both know that I’m telling the truth and that there isn’t any other way that I could have known.”
For almost five minutes they walked in silence, weaving between the trees and ducking under low branches before Trevor finally spoke up.
“Just don’t tell Mom,” his brother mumbled, nervously scratching the back of his neck.
“Ok,” Trevor continued. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth. Why haven’t you alerted the guards that the attack is coming? With five years to prepare they can probably do something.”
“I tried that the first time,” Micah’s expression soured. “It was almost worse than the attack itself. They enslaved me for my magic and captured the entire family to use as hostages against me. I’d prefer to avoid that route if possible.”
“Then what are we going to do Micah?” Trevor asked, worry infusing his voice. “We’re just two kids with spears. I don’t know how we’re going to stop a massive barbarian invasion.”
“Trevor,” Micah answered his question with one of his own. “What do you know about classes?”
“You get them after you’re blessed?” The older boy shrugged. “Honestly, no one tells me very much other than ‘practice the skills you want to use’ so I work on my spear forms.”
“They’re somewhat right,” Micah brushed aside a low hanging branch. “Right now you’re accumulating skills. Once you’re blessed, we’ll be able to see the level of those skills. Depending upon your skill level, you’ll be able to unlock better classes.”
“There are better classes?” Trevor frowned.
“There’s an entire world of better classes,” Micah motioned for him to stop. “I’ve found one called spellspear that will fit your affinities perfectly. We just have to get your athletics, and spear skills over seven. After that it’s just a matter of your learning enough spellcasting to hit level five.”
“Affinities?” Trevor cocked his head at Micah. “I haven’t even been blessed yet.”
“You’re going to get an Uncommon blessing and a minor wind affinity,” Micah replied, waving a hand at Trevor to get the larger man to crouch next to him. “But for now, what you need to do is help me kill this blasted dire stoat.”