Now that I think about it, running away from home wasn't that dramatic either. I left a note in my father's chamber, hinting that I borrowed some coins to travel to Lorisfort and that I'll be back once I become a certified wizard. He will most likely find it late in the night, and I will be long gone by then.

I walked back to my chamber, secured the pouch inside my pack, which I had organized earlier, and then made my way to the stable.

I ran into Catherine in the stable, one of the two aids my father hires to maintain our small ancestral villa. For as long as I can remember, Catherine and Kyle had always worked for my family. They have always lived in the little cottage next to the villa gates with their eight-year-old son, Matthew.

Catherine was busy fixing the feed for the only steed we had here. The rest of the stable was empty. Because today, my father is delivering some wares to the estate of a noble in the royal district.

"What are you up to now, Marcus?" she asked without even looking at me. She placed the feed in front of Blur, who neighed before digging in.

"Nothing much!" I said. "Just the same old plan to run away." This attempt at coming clean went ignored and unappreciated. I guess she will appreciate the humour once I am gone. I walked toward Blur and started patting her on the neck. I patted her for some time and then started saddling for the trip while she ate.

Blur is a thing of beauty, black beauty with a grey mane. Father had purchased her just for me. First, he had bought me an excellent white horse on my twelfth birthday but later that year, I saw knights riding these big war horses in the parade, and I wanted one like those. He tried to ignore me at first, but he could not handle me bleating on and on for a year.

"What are you doing, young man," Catherine said while looking at me, saddle Blur. "Ricardo told you to practice your stance, and I have not seen you doing much this morning."

"For God's sake, Cathy! It is my birthday."

"And I will be making your favourite this evening," she said. "Kyle and Matthew are already out there to find me a big chicken. But first, you need to finish your practice."

"But that's not fair. I do not feel like practice today," I complained.

"You know what, today you can cut it short to an hour, and I won't tell Ricardo about it. I will even make you some minced beef rolls," she said and then smiled at me.

How can I say no to that? It's just one hour instead of four, and I won't mind some tasty rolls. Also, I will still have a big enough window to make my escape. "I will do it. But those rolls better be ready in an hour," I said.

"Don't worry about it," she said while walking away, probably towards the kitchen. "You only need to focus on your sword, young man."

---

Sun is blazing high in the sky; it is almost noon. I had been practising for nearly two hours. I had lost track of time. Only the mouth-watering smell of beef rolls made me come out of my trance. I had been casting the only spell I know, Trip-Grass, while also practising my two-handed swings with my shiny claymore.

It is a good sword. Custom made by the best blacksmith of the capital last year, with an alloy of steel which gives it a very sharp edge. It is not too expensive, but it is also not cheap. It was my reward for finally connecting a hit with Ricardo during practice with my old blunted sword. That one was blunt to protect me, not the other way around - and I had cheated. I had made him trip with my faithful spell while he was taking a step back to get away from my swing. He always had to take action to block my swings because claymores' have a massive reach, and I had nailed the timing on that one.

Just to clarify, it was not as easy as it sounds. My moment of triumph had a lot going on. I had been trying that move for a while. But that was the first time I had been able to cast my spell precisely. Also, it helps when one can't spot my magical grass in the green courtyard turned training ground.

I have been practising Trip-Grass loads, and I feel like I have almost mastered it. A few years ago, I would have run out of breath just after casting it four to five times; it also used to take me a few precious seconds to launch the spell. But now, it comes a lot more easily, and I can continuously cast it for more than forty times, and I won't even break a sweat. Plus, the result is instantaneous, I throw the spell, and grass sprouts so fast, it is hard to believe. Once, I had forcefully cast the spell so many times within a minute that I had lost consciousness. Matthew was counting, and I was on the verge of making it to a hundred that time, just before everything went blank.

I sheathed my sword, left it right next to my bulging pack, poured some water on my head and drank the rest from the canteen. And then finally headed towards the dining area.

"Marcus!" Cathy called. "Take a bath first! You are drowning in sweat." She had found me at the main door leading inside. I looked down and realized that cleaning up might not be a bad thing.

"Oh! Thank you, Cathy! For pointing out the obvious," I said. But before I could continue with my sarcastic humour, I was interrupted by a very excited child.

"Happy Birthday Marcus!" Matthew called jovially while he ran through the courtyard.

"Hi! Mat," I said. "You seem way more excited about my birthday than me. What's going on?"

"Look! I made you a present," he said and handed me a bouquet, which held many daisies tied together with grass blades.

"This is beautiful work, Mat! Amazing craftsmanship," I said. "Will you be willing to share your trade secret with me?"

"Um, it was not that hard," said Mat while visibly jumping from excitement. "I um, just collected all the daisies that I could find this morning, that is, on my way to and from the market with papa, and then used the spell to tie them like this. Papa helped too. He held them up for me while I was casting the spell to tie them."

"This is splendid spellwork, Mat! Thank you," I said while ruffling his hair, and a smile lit his face up.

Kyle, too, had made his way towards us by now, and he had a big pack strapped on his back.

"Happy Birthday Marcus!" he said while laying the backpack on the porch. "By the looks of it, you had a productive morning, and now," Kyle took a moment to sniff the air before continuing. "are in dire need of a bath."

"See, young man!" said Cathy. "Kyle has the same opinion. Now, you better run or else the food will go cold."

"Yeah! Yeah! You do not have to tell me twice," I said. "Please set me a plate. I will be back in a flash."

---

Conducere, the capital city of Mercari, shrank in the backdrop while I was riding on Blur, trotting along with the caravan, and soon the big walls of the capital were just a speck on the horizon.

"You gonna be okay, boy?" asked Loren Wolf while he rode his horse right next to me.

I gave him a nod, and he nodded back. Then he rode toward the wagon in front of me and asked the people riding it if they were okay or needed help with anything. This is his caravan. He is a travelling merchant by trade, travelling to distant places to sell wares at exorbitant prices. Merchants like him visit Conducere all year long. Also, if they have an empty wagon, it usually means that things hadn't gone their way, or they couldn't find what they were looking for, or that they had ripped someone off. And with an empty wagon, they tend to let people use it for travel or ride along if you are headed in the same direction. Of course, they charge a significant sum for this kindness in the name of protection and safe travel.

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This caravan is heading for Highpass, the capital of Vallis. It will be making stops at quite a few villages and two big cities on the way. One of the cities is Lorisfort, my destination. According to Loren, it will take us an entire week before making it to Lorisfort. My Uncle Daniel and Aunt Patricia live in Lorisfort, and I know that they will raise hell on me for just showing up unannounced at their doorstep.

"Lots of farms around here," said a young man who had approached me from behind, on a pony. "It's amazing. Isn't it?"

"It is indeed. Conducere is known for its crop export," I said while eying him. "Especially sugarcane."

"Astonishing, I am from a village in Planus, and I had never seen this many farms before," he said. "I can't even see the city anymore, but the farms just keep on rolling."

"I am Marcus. And you are?" I asked.

"Oh! Sorry! Gustin," he said.

"You are far from home Gustin," I said. "Would you like to try some sugarcane?"

"Sugarcane? You don't seem to be carrying any," he said.

I smiled at him and then broke away from the caravan. I quickly unsheathed my claymore, which was partially hidden behind my pack and made short work of a few sugarcane growing in the farm right next to the road. When I joined the procession again, I had a small bundle of sugarcane tied at the back of Blur.

"Would you like something sugary to chew on?" I said while offering him one, which he accepted quickly. And then we both started chewing and slurping the sweet nectar of life.

"This is great stuff!" he said while slurping. "So, are you an aspiring Mercenary by any chance?"

"Bollocks! Why does everyone always, always assume that?" I blurted.

"Correct me if I am wrong," he said. "But, you do have huge arms for one. You must have been swinging that sword of yours for a while, by my guess. And if that's not what you want, then why are you carrying a sword?"

"Goddamn! I want to be a Wizard. And what's wrong with having big arms?" I asked while flexing my arms.

"Oh, Wow! Nothing is wrong with big arms," he said. "It's just that I have never seen a wizard with ape arms."

"Ape? What's an Ape?" I interrupted him.

"You have never seen one? It's a huge monkey with massive arms!" Gustin cackled.

"You do know that I am carrying a very pointy object! Right," I said and then partially unsheathed my sword for a moment for him to see.

"Let me tell you something that my village chief told me a while back," he said. "I don't know the reason behind it, but he had said that Wizards can't be fat."

"From what angle are you looking at me? I am not fat!" I said.

"What I meant was that Wizards tend to be very lean, they are never fat or muscle heads like you," he said while eying my arms. "Also, he is a Mage ranked wizard, and he is as lean as they come even though he is nibbling on food all day long."

Our conversation was cut short by an arrow that flew past us and struck the road. After a moment, I realized that it wasn't just one but many arrows that had come flying out of the woods we had just entered. The whole caravan came to a sudden halt. People were looking around wildly to find where the arrows had come from. The neigh of horses and shouts of people was creating a racket. Whoever had a weapon were holding on to it, including me. I could see a few people jumping out of wagons while holding knives and swords; some were even carrying bows.

"Bandits!" Gustin muttered while he tried to calm his pony. And my heart almost stopped for a moment. Damn my ill luck. I had not even left for a few hours, and I was already in trouble.

"Hold Men! Hold yourself. Calm down, people!" Loren shouted while he came back riding from the front of the caravan.

"Marcus! Put it away," said Gustin while pointing to my sword.

"Pardon me!"

"If you don't want an arrow sticking out of your chest, then you need to sheath your sword," he said. "There are a lot of bandits hiding here, and we can not possibly win against them all. They got the jump on us and have the trees protecting them. I also guess they must have their bows trained on us, and if it does break out into a fight, they will aim for people holding weapons first. Though they won't attack yet, that volley of arrows was just to let us know they are there, watching us. Look! Someone is approaching from the woods. They will probably ask for ransom for letting us pass through these woods."

"Why didn't they just attack if they have us in such a bad spot?" I asked. "They can just loot the bodies."

"Mate, that's one morbid thought," he said. "I don't know. Maybe if they start killing and looting every caravan, that will put too big a target on them. Mercari Army probably won't stop until they are all hanged."

"How are you so calm in all this?" I asked while sheathing my sword. "Are you not afraid of bandits?"

"It's not that," he said. "I had joined a caravan from Greenshade, and this has already happened twice before, and I shat like everybody else, both times."

"You serious! Do you mean you got used to getting robbed? That's so weird, man!"

"Let's watch for now. Okay!" Gustin said while looking back at Loren.

Loren tried to calm the people and then went ahead with two of his guards to meet up with the bandit who had walked out of the woods. His guards stopped a few paces behind him while he went out to speak, probably to discuss ransom amount and such. They talked for about five minutes before he came back.

Loren has eight guards in total, probably one for each wagon. Once he returned, he and the wagoners talked while guards surrounded them. As if that would help against these numbers.

"He will be sending his guards to collect some amount they decided on," whispered Gustin to me.

"We have to pay?" I asked.

Gustin nodded at me. Guards came and started collecting four silver Mercarian coins from each person, just as he had said. A female guard approached us. She was the one who had been riding on the wagon in front of us.

"Hello! I humbly request that you partake with four silver on Sir Loren's behalf. We are in a plight; otherwise, Sir Loren would have never asked for extra payments." said the female guard to both of us.

"That's too much," Gustin said. "My last caravan was also stopped twice by bandits, but I only had to pay one silver."

"I am sorry to say this, but this is a huge bandit group, and they ask for much. Sir Loren did his best to come to these terms. Please spare four silver. This is not the time for ideal talk." said the guard.

I handed her the coin, and Gustin did the same with great hesitation. He was not happy to part with four silver.

---

Our caravan lodged in the village camping grounds, along with one more convoy headed the other way around, that is, for Conducere.

Our caravan had made it out of the woods just before dusk. We had stopped only once after the bandits incident, and that was next to a small water stream to provide horses with some respite. I had started seeing rising smoke just before we broke out of the woods, and once we did, I discerned that it was the smoke from the chimneys. I was able to see the village, and I was relieved to find out that it had wooden walls. They are only two meters or so high, but they do wonders to comfort my heart.

Most people from the caravan left for taverns instead of sleeping in the camp. Nobody likes to sleep in a wagon or next to a campfire. Thus, spending eighty to ninety copper for a comfortable bed and some good food seems like a way better choice. But there are only three taverns in this village, which means only so many can sleep inside. People, who didn't make it in time or didn't have the coin to spare, just had to manage with what they had. Sleeping under a wagon is also an option for some. And caravan food is not bad.

Loren has a guard who also cooks for the caravan, and he served us hot chicken soup with barley bread this evening. Gustin and I licked our bowls clean and then made our way to one of the taverns.

I need so much more than a bowl of soup. I was starving, and so was Gustin. Thus we went out looking for more food. We went to this tavern called Misty Ale. It's the biggest one this village has to offer. It was jam-packed when we arrived, but no one was talking. Everyone was focused on the two bards on the small stage singing the Legend of the Brahmos. When they finished, almost everyone cheered, and then the tavern was an uproar of laughter and shouting, and we were part of it. We grabbed two full plates of sandwiches with jugs of dark ale straight from the bar while we waited for a table. We got one after ten minutes of waiting. We had already finished our sandwiches by then. So we got some more.

"I don't get it," Gustin said to me. "How did you do it? You have to tell me." We had been discussing magic on our way. He is an aspiring wizard and on a long journey to Mali, the proud City of Magic located in the heart of the Elven Empire, Regalis. To learn from the best wizards - Mages and Archmages that Rivus has to offer. And also, because we both are from different countries and have different cultures, we have so much to talk about.

"What is it that you do not understand? It is just a utility spell used by gardeners."

"And that is what I don't understand. Utility spells are slow. I know the spell Ignite," Gustin said. "I will show you. Watch."

He brought his palm up flat to cast the spell. It took him a few seconds. First, there were some sparks, and then there was a tiny flame burning brightly just above his palm. Few people turned around to look for a moment and then turned back to whatever they were doing as if it was no big deal.

"Hey! no fire magic in my place. Cut it off!" shouted the barkeep. We both flinched, and Gustin stopped channelling the spell.

"Sorry!" Gustin shouted back to the barkeep. He took a big gulp of ale before coming back to our conversation.

"It took me almost five seconds, but your spell takes like a moment," Gustin said to me enthusiastically while snapping his fingers. "You cast it, and then bam. It's just there."

"How many spells do you know?" I asked Gustin.

"Well," he hesitated and then whispered in my ear. "I know seven spells in total. Based on a test, my village chief had told me that I will most probably make it into the Regal University of Wizardry in Mali." He gave me a big grin after that statement.

"Wow! So you going to Mali?" I asked. He replied with a nod and a smile.

"Well, I only know one spell Gustin," I whispered back, feeling sad and jealous. "But I had been practising it for ages. My mother had taught me this spell when I was only six. Maybe that's why I'm good at it."

"Mark, that's really impressive and all. But that still doesn't explain the quick casting. Practising a spell helps with one's control over it," he said. "It never improves casting time or speed."

"Well, I didn't know that," I replied back. "I never had a proper tutor for it. I have just learned by bothering all the wizards I have ever met. But mostly from my mom and aunt. What does improving control even mean?"

"Okay, see, I can cast ignite as far as two meters, but when I had just learnt the spell, I could only cast it only above my hand. Also, it still takes the same amount of time as when I had just learned this spell. I initially failed quite a bit, but it always took the same amount of time to cast it successfully. You need to figure out what you did differently. Your spell casting speed is just amazing."

"I honestly don't know what I did," I said. "I must have awakened my hidden talent at some point."

"Very Funny!" Gustin said. "I mean it when I say, you have done something amazing, unknowingly behest, but something amazing which has improved your casting. Also, your control is exceptional. But I guess that is the result of all the practising you mentioned."

"Maybe, I am not sure," I whispered to him. "But now that you have pointed it out. I think you might be right. My casting speed had only improved after I had started practising with my sword. What do you think?"

"That doesn't make any sense," he said. "Also, we should talk about something else. I don't want to reveal my trade secrets in this place." Quite a few people were listening in on our conversation by now. Everyone wants to be a wizard, and that's a self-evident truth.

"I am only with this caravan till Lorisfort. But, we can talk later about this." I said. "Now, just one more thing. How old are you?"

"Well, I am nineteen. What about you?" Gustin said.

"It's my birthday today. I just turned fifteen." I said while grinning.

"No, kidding! You look way older," he said. "You are quite big for a fifteen-year-old boy."

"Jealous of my powers?" I asked while flexing my arm muscles.

"You are unreal. Wizards are not supposed to be muscular. When you cast spells, you tend to lose weight. That's a fact. Archmages have died from casting strong spells," Gustin said.

"I am real. Very real." I said with a smile.

"Well, Happy birthday, mate," Gustin said. "We need to celebrate." He turned around and shouted at the closest barmaid. "Hey! It's my mates birthday. Get us some of your strongest ale."

"I'd prefer more food than ale," I said to him.

"Don't overthink about it," he said and then smiled at me. After a moment of thought, he asked, "Have you ever been with a woman? You are too young."

That got us sidetracked. We joked for an hour and got so drunk that I puked all over the table. This was the first time ever that I had drank so much. Plus, puking got us kicked out of the tavern.

We somehow made our way back to the camp and just fell asleep on the grass next to one of the campfires. It was cold without anything to cover, but I didn't feel a thing till dusk came with a hell of a chill.