Darian trudged back to the cottage, shoulders slumped and head down. His first day at magic practice had been a total bust. He couldn't sense even a glimmer of the inner magical essence the book described, let alone cast a spell.

As he neared the garden gate, Darian spotted Rondar going through some stretches and exercises. The dwarf was clearly trying to regain his strength and fighting form after his injuries. When he saw Darian's glum expression, Rondar paused mid-lunge.

"Judgin' by that long face, I take it the magic practice didn't go as ye hoped, lad?"

Darian felt his cheeks heat. He scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt, unable to meet Rondar's eyes. "No. I couldn't feel anything, not even a little buzz under my skin like the book said. Are you sure I even have magic in me?"

Rondar let out a hearty chuckle. "Lad, it takes more than one mornin' to awaken yer magical core! For dwarves, callin' on our power is as natural as breathin'. But you humans, now, I've heard tell it can take weeks or even months o' dedicated practice 'fore ye feel so much as a tingle."

Darian sighed and nodded. I need to stop being so impatient, he chided himself. I didn't become a skilled hunter in a day. These things take time and work.

"Aye, yer right," Darian said. "I'll just have to keep at it, same as everything else."

"There's a good lad," Rondar nodded approvingly. "Yer a determined one, I'll give ye that. Ye'll get there."

Just then, the cottage door opened and Mara stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron. "Darian! There you are. Come along now, both of you. Lunch is ready and I won't have it getting cold."

Darian's stomach rumbled at the mention of food. In his disappointment over the magic lesson, he'd almost forgotten how hungry all that practice had made him.

"Coming, Ma!" he called back. He turned to Rondar. "Guess we better go before she feeds our portions to the chickens."

The dwarf chuckled. "Aye, and that'd be a right shame. Yer Ma's a fine cook." He gave his stomach a pat. "Could use some fillin' up to get me strength back."

Darian grinned and together they headed inside, the smell of Mara's rabbit stew wafting out to greet them.

When they entered the kitchen, they found Talia and Thomas already seated at the table, the little girl bouncing impatiently as she waited to eat. Thomas gave Darian a shy smile in greeting which he returned. It was good to see his friend looking a bit less pale and peaky after a few solid meals and nights indoors.

"Wash up now," Mara instructed as Darian and Rondar entered. "Then come sit. Breck sent over a loaf of brown bread to go with the stew."

"He did?" Darian perked up. The smith's dense, nutty bread was a rare treat.

Mara nodded, looking pleased. "Aye. Said we needed some extra, what with our house guest and growing boys to feed." She shot Rondar a smile. "Mighty kind of him."

"That it is," Rondar agreed. "I'll have to thank the good smith next I see him."

Mara dished out generous portions of fragrant stew, studded with thick chunks of rabbit, turnip, and carrot. A plate stacked with slices of bread made its way around and soon everyone was tucking in.

"So Darian," Mara said after a moment. "What kept you out in the woods so long today? Not like you to be late for a meal."

Darian nearly choked on a mouthful of stew. He darted a glance at Rondar who was suddenly very focused on buttering his bread.

"I was just...exploring," Darian said, trying to sound casual. "Checking the snare lines."

His mother frowned. "You already checked those yesterday. Don't tell me we have a thief about, on top of everything else?"

"What? No!" Darian said quickly. "No, the snares were empty. I was just being thorough."

Mara still looked dubious but before she could press further, Talia piped up.

"Darian's learning ma--"

The little girl cut off with a yelp as Darian kicked her hard under the table. She shot him a wounded look but thankfully shut her mouth.

Darian's heart pounded. That had been close. Too close. He should have known better than to trust a secret, even with Talia. Seven-year-olds weren't exactly known for their discretion.

Mara eyed them suspiciously. "Learning? Learning what?"

"Snares!" Darian blurted, grasping for an explanation. "I was showing Tali how to make better snares. So she can help me check the lines."

He held his breath, praying his mother would buy it. Next to him, Rondar made a choking noise into his stew that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

But to Darian's relief, Mara only sighed and shook her head. "I suppose she's old enough to start contributing more. But don’t take her too deep into the woods, it isn’t safe, and she better not get sloppy with her studies, you hear? I'll not have her falling behind."

"Yes Ma," Darian agreed quickly, shooting Talia a warning look. The girl ducked her head, suddenly very focused on her lunch.

The meal continued without further incident, the conversation turning to more mundane topics like the coming harvest and Brookhaven's paltry trade prospects. Darian made interested noises at the appropriate times, but his mind was whirling.

He couldn't expect a little girl to keep his secret indefinitely, no matter how much he warned her. It was a miracle Talia hadn't spilled everything to Ma already. And if she found out he was messing about with magic...

Darian suppressed a shudder. It simply didn't bear thinking about. He would just have to be even more careful from now on. Find better excuses for his absences and keep a tighter leash on Talia.

Da never had to skulk about, afraid of his own family, a small bitter voice whispered in his head. Real adventurers don't have to hide who they are.

Darian firmly pushed the thought away. He wasn't his father. He would never abandon Ma and Talia, no matter how the lure of magic and adventure called to him.

But maybe, if I get good enough, I can have both one day, he told himself. I can see the world and find Da. Bring him home. Then Ma won't need to be so scared all the time.

It was just a dream, one he knew was shamefully selfish. But he clung to it nonetheless, a tiny flame of hope amidst all his new worries and doubts.

***

The next few days passed in a busy blur as Darian tried to balance his time between hunting trips with Thomas, magic practice in the woods, and keeping an eye on their dwarven house guest. To his amazement, Talia somehow managed not to spill his secret, though there were a few close calls.

He caught her staring at him sometimes with a mix of awe and envy, clearly bursting to talk about the wondrous things her big brother could do. But to her credit, she kept mum, even fibbing to Mara once that Darian had taken her fishing when he'd really been busy with the spellbook.

Darian made sure to thank her for that, even sneaking her an extra honey cake after supper.

"I can keep a secret real good," she told him proudly. "I'm not a baby."

No, Darian thought with a pang. I suppose you're not. When did that happen?

Despite his sister's discretion, Darian couldn't help but feel guilty for burdening her with such a big secret. Bad enough that he was disobeying Ma. Talia shouldn't have to carry that weight too, not at her age.

I won't let it come back on her, Darian swore to himself. No matter what, I'll keep Talia safe.

It was that thought that spurred him to work harder than ever on his fledgling magical skills. Every spare moment he could steal away, he spent in the forest, far from prying eyes, trying again and again to capture that elusive inner energy that Rondar assured him was the key.

Some days were more fruitful than others. Once, Darian thought he felt a flicker of something, a tiny spark that danced just out of reach. But it vanished as quickly as it had come and he couldn't seem to call it back, no matter how he focused.

Still, he refused to be discouraged. Even these near misses filled him with a fierce, determined sort of joy. Magic was real. It was inside him. He just had to keep reaching for it until he could grab hold and pull.

One morning, Darian returned from a frustrating practice session to find Rondar in the cottage garden. But the dwarf wasn't doing his usual stretches and exercises. Instead, he was hunched over the low stone wall, an array of weapons spread out before him - axes, daggers, and even a short sword.

Rondar held a tiny chisel in one finger. As Darian watched, he bent over one of the daggers and began carefully, painstakingly etching a series of runes into the flat of the blade.

"What are you doing?" Darian blurted, unable to restrain his curiosity.

Rondar glanced up, bushy eyebrows raised. When he saw it was Darian, he beckoned him closer with a jerk of his head.

"Preparin' for the road," the dwarf replied. "Can't go chargin' off to save me kin with dull blades, now can I?"

Darian's eyes widened. "You're leaving? But your wounds..."

"Are healed enough," Rondar finished firmly. He sat back, surveying his handiwork with a critical eye. "I've tarried here too long as it is. Every day I waste is another day Durek and the others suffer at the hands o' them stinkin' gnolls."

A shadow passed over the dwarf's face, darkening his features. "I'll not leave 'em to that fate a moment longer. Not while there's breath in me body."

Darian bit his lip. He understood Rondar's urgency, truly he did. If it was Ma or Talia taken by monsters, he wouldn't rest until he had them back safe. But the odds the dwarf faced... Darian had seen what the gnolls had done to him.

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"What is it you're doing to the weapons?" Darian asked, partly out of genuine interest and partly to mask his unease. He leaned in to get a closer look at the knife Rondar had been etching.

"Layin' down some enchantments," the dwarf replied. "A bit o' extra punch to even the odds, ye might say." He then ran a thumb along the runed blade almost tenderly. "Proper work on these is s'posed to take days or even weeks o' meditation an' ritual. But we dinna have that kinda time, so I'm cuttin' corners. They'll be rougher, their power raw, but they'll serve well enough in a pinch."

"Can you do it to my bow too? Put runes on it?" Darian asked, not able to contain himself.

Rondar blinked, clearly taken aback by the request. He eyed Darian's bow, which never left the boy's side, then flicked his gaze back to Darian's hopeful face.

"Ye sure about that, lad?" he asked slowly. "Enchanted weapons, they're not toys. Dangerous, they are, 'specially in untrained hands."

Darian's chin came up. "I'm not untrained. You've seen me shoot. I'm the best hunter in the whole village."

A sudden wild thought crashed over him. A thought he struggled to dismiss, even as it sank its claws deep into his mind.

I could help him, whispered the reckless voice inside. I could go with Rondar, and together we could save his family.

It was madness. Utter, unthinkable madness. Darian knew that but he took a breath, looking the dwarf square in the eye. "I want to help you rescue your family. Let me come with you when you leave. Please. I'll keep up, I swear."

Rondar stared at him, completely perplexed. The dwarf opened his mouth, closed it again. Rubbed a hand over his beard as if he could physically smooth away his shock.

"Let me get this straight," he said after a long moment. "Ye want to come with me, a near stranger, on a fool's errand into the godsforsaken wilds to face down a pack o' crazed, dwarf-eatin' beasties that near killed me once already. That about sum it up?"

Darian gave a single, sharp nod. "Yes. That's it exactly."

Rondar blew out a long, slow breath. "Lad. Darian. Ye've a good heart and that's a rare thing. But this ain't no child's adventure tale. Ye've no idea the evil that's out there, the horrors..."

He broke off, a shadow passing behind his eyes. "I'll not have yer death on my conscience."

"You won't!" Darian insisted. "I can look after myself. Better than most grown men." He added quickly, "Think how much easier it'll be getting your people out with a skilled archer guarding your back. I’ll be far away from danger and I can pick off the gnolls before they get near, keep watch while you slip the others free..."

He was stretching and he knew it. A few scrawny gnolls were a far cry from a warrior dwarf's battle prowess. But he sensed Rondar wavering, sensed that the dwarf's resistance was born more of concern than any slanting of Darian's capabilities. If he just pushed a little more...

"My family can spare me for a bit," Darian pressed on. "Ma thinks I'm old enough to take on more responsibility and this will prove it to her. Rescuing people...that's something a man does, isn't it? Not a kid."

Rondar's lips twitched under his beard. "Aye. S'pose it is, at that." He heaved a sigh. "I must be addle-minded with fever still, but...if ye can get yer Ma's leave then I'll not stop ye comin'."

Darian's heart soared and he opened his mouth to cheer, only for Rondar to cut him off with a sharp look.

"On one condition! Ye do exactly as I say, no questions and no arguin'. When I tell ye to stay back, ye stay back. When I tell ye to run, ye run. Understood?"

Darian managed a nod, though his whole body buzzed with glee. "Understood. I swear it on my father's name."

Rondar snorted. "Ach, we'll see how well ye mind once the arrows start flyin'. But for now, a promise is good enough." Rondar fixed Darian with a stern look. "And make sure ye tell yer Ma the truth about where we're goin' and why. I'll not have her thinkin' I've kidnapped ye."

"I will," Darian assured him, though he privately thought it would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission in this case. If Ma knew the danger involved, she'd never let him out of her sight again.

Rondar grunted. "Right then. Let's see about gettin' some proper runes on that bow o' yers."

The dwarf picked up the bow and laid it across his knees. He squinted at it, turning it this way and that to examine the smooth curves of wood and taut bowstring.

"Hmm. Not much room for inscribin'. But mayhap...here, see these knotwork patterns? I can disguise the runes amongst those carvings, with none the wiser."

Darian watched eagerly as Rondar bent over the bow and began his meticulous work. The dwarf's hands were nimble for all their breadth and he applied himself to the task with an almost reverent focus.

An hour passed, then two. The runes slowly took shape - harsh slashes for power, curved arcs for accuracy, diamonds and dots for speed. Rondar murmured in that language that Darian still didn’t recognise under his breath as he worked.

At last, he sat back and wiped sweat from his brow. "There. 'Tis done, far as I can make it in the time we have."

Darian leaned forward, snatching up the bow almost before Rondar finished speaking. It looked no different, except for the subtle gleam of the fresh runes. But when he gripped the bow tightly, he swore he could feel a tingle run up his arm, like a crackle of energy.

"What do they do?" he asked, eyes shining.

"The runes? Bit o' everythin'," Rondar replied with a shrug. "Extra kick to yer shots. Faster, straighter flyin'. Arrows that bite deep and strike true. Enough to give us a chance against the gnolls, Moradin willin'."

Darian nodded. With a bow like this, he wouldn't just be dead weight on the rescue mission. He could really help turn the tide.

"Thank you," Darian whispered. "For trusting me with this."

Rondar huffed a laugh. "Thank me if'n we make it back in one piece, lad. Don't be countin' yer heroes before the battle's won."

But his eyes were warm and he clapped Darian on the shoulder as he straightened his back with a groan. "Come on then. Let's see what that fancy twig o' yers can do now."

They walked together to the edge of the woods, to the battered old stump Darian used for target practice. He unslung his quiver and chose an arrow with care, examining the fletching.

Please, he thought. Please let this work.

Taking a deep breath, Darian nocked the arrow and drew the bowstring back to his cheek. He let his eyes fall half-closed, reaching for that now familiar calm that overtook him when he needed a perfect shot. The world fell away - the rustling leaves, the damp earth, the solid bulk of Rondar at his shoulder. There was only Darian and the bow and the target.

He let the arrow loose.

It leapt from the string with a speed Darian had never seen, the runes flashing blue-white as the arrow blurred through the air faster than sight could follow. With a meaty THUNK it struck the stump dead center - and kept going.

Splinters exploded outward as the arrow punched clean through the wood, burying itself to the fletchings. It didn’t stop there, the arrow continued on, tearing through not one but three medium sized trees beyond the stump before finally coming to rest.

For a long, breathless moment there was absolute silence.

Then slowly, the stump fell over with a crash. Darian jumped, his heart thundering for a completely new reason.

Rondar let out an appreciative whistle. "Well now! That's a bit more juice than I anticipated." He laughed, slapping his thigh. "But it'll do, lad. Aye, it'll do very nicely indeed."

Darian stared at the fallen trees and the arrow jutting proudly from the last trunk. He had done that. Him.

A shocked grin split his face. If his bow could do that , what might he accomplish with real magic one day? With power like this, he need never worry about having enough food or coin again. He could protect his family from any threat, man or beast.

He turned to Rondar, enthusiasm overriding caution. "When do we leave on the rescue mission? I can be ready at first light--"

"Hold up there," Rondar cut him off with a grunt. "What did I tell ye about gettin' yer Ma's leave first? Ye can't just go chargin' off without a word."

Darian deflated slightly but nodded. Rondar was right. If he was going to do this, he had to do it properly. No more secrets and sneaking.

He looked at the dwarf. "I'll talk to her tonight. Make her understand," he paused for a second. "And if she says no?"

Rondar met his eyes, "Then ye listen to her, hard as that may be. Ye're her pup, for all yer bold words. Heed yer Ma."

He softened slightly at Darian's crestfallen look. "But if she sees fit to let ye come...then aye, we'd leave at first light."

Determination hardened in Darian's chest. "She'll say yes," he vowed. "She has to."

But even as the words left his mouth, he felt doubt nibbling at his resolve. He had never defied his mother so thoroughly before. Never gone against her wishes in such a blatant, dangerous way.

But this is important, he told himself fiercely. This is about more than me.

It was about Rondar's family, suffering in pain and fear as Darian stood here considering. It was about doing the right thing, the heroic thing, no matter the cost.

Most of all, it was about finally taking a real step towards the life he wanted. A life of magic and adventure and purpose beyond the confines of his little village.

I'll make her understand, Darian thought as he walked back to the cottage with Rondar. Somehow, I'll make her see. I'm not a child anymore.