At precisely noon, accompanied by the loud song of crickets, a small boy descended into the tall, half-dried grass from somewhere above. He was cloaked in a peculiar, camouflaged cape that blended with the surroundings, and he had yet to realize that he’d landed in a world as vastly different from his own as could be. For a while, his body lay motionless. When he finally stirred, a desperate voice came from beneath the cloak: “Dad…”

Norbert Erion lay breathing deeply, his head still spinning. Once he managed to sit up, he lifted the cloak from his face, and froze in silent wonder. The sky was so blue, the sun so small, yet its heat pricked his skin, and the air had a peculiar scent, while the horizon seemed strangely empty. Something had changed.

“Dad! Father!” he called.

But no one replied; he was alone. The invisibility potion had worn off, and he could now clearly see his legs and arms. His suitcase lay nearby, just a small distance from where he’d been sitting. In a daze, he grabbed the cloak and hastily stuffed it into the suitcase before reaching for the map in his pocket. His hands trembled as he opened it and looked down. It was as though all sense of it had vanished from his mind. He stared blankly at the mess of lines, squiggles, and the seven imprecise squares.

“Houses,” he whispered.

He knew what he had to do! He knew he had to fulfill the promise he’d made to his father. Inside, he reassured himself that his father would surely come for him. On the map before him, there was a forest marked; when he looked around, he saw trees in the distance behind him. Yes, that was the way to go. He should find the stream. He tried to ignore the strange buzzing sound all around him. Pushing through the tall grass, his heart beat hard in his chest, and the humming in the brush around him only heightened his tension.

After a short while, he climbed up onto a dusty path that divided the meadow from the fields. He stood there, uncertain which way to go—left, right, or perhaps through the prickly golden thicket on the other side? He turned left, glancing back frequently but pressing on bravely. Soon, the path began to wind gradually, and before long, a wooden fence stretched alongside him. It looked like the enclosures they had at Saul’s Guild, where they kept magical creatures. His father had told him stories about them many times.

And sure enough, a little further down, on the grass beyond the fence, an animal was resting. Norbert froze. There wasn’t just one, but an entire herd. Their bodies were covered in short brown fur with large white spots, their ears stuck out to the sides, and they had wide eyes, big snouts, and… horns! They were chewing something wildly, likely a part of their prey, Norbert thought. Fortunately, he didn’t panic. He cautiously pulled his cloak back out, draped it over himself, and crept forward silently.

He kept an eye on them constantly, taking a few more stealthy steps. Suddenly, one of them sensed something. It lifted its head and let out a sound like the howl of multiple spirits at once: “Mbooooah!”

It ran toward him at the fence, and the rest of the creatures immediately followed. Norbert shrieked and took off running, his legs numb with terror. The creatures’ bellowing followed him, making his hair stand on end.

“Gross! I’m sorry, monster! Dad!” he screamed as loud as he could, only stopping once he was out of their sight. His whole body trembled. He never wanted to see that creature again! Where was he? He’d never heard of such animals in Arcana before. Now he understood why they were shut behind a fence.

Barely catching his breath, he realized he was standing calf-deep in water. A stream. This had to be it! He’d made it! He dipped his hands in the water and wiped his sweaty face with them.

“Follow the flow of the water…” he mumbled. “Show me where you’re going!” He tore off a blade of grass and let it float on the calm surface, then set off in its direction. He couldn’t get lost now—the bridge had to appear soon. Thanks to the torches, he was sure to recognize it. Wading through the water, his feet sank into the mud, but the coolness of the stream felt pleasant in the heat. When he finally saw the stone arch in the distance, he leaped out of the water, cheering.

The bridge was bordered on either side by low stone walls, wide enough for a carriage to pass. On each bank stood posts with lanterns on them. No torches!

Norbert glanced at the map again; an arrow instructed him to turn right before the bridge. With each step, he could see a small village emerging ahead. The houses looked strangely straight and clean, bordered by fences. On the cobbled street, something caught his eye—an enormous vehicle standing off to the side. It had four wheels like a carriage, but it was entirely made of metal and had windows. Norbert didn’t see any creature harnessed to pull it. He would have loved to take a ride in such a carriage. He was so taken with it that he forgot to count the houses as his father had instructed. A little further down, there was another, this one a shiny vehicle without a roof. Norbert stood on his tiptoes, leaning in to examine the seats, levers, and various dials and hands inside.

He was trying to reach one of the levers, just inches away, when he heard footsteps behind the fence. Instinctively, he darted into the nearest alleyway to hide. The ground was littered with smelly fallen fruit, covered in flies.

“Arrre you joking? You’re here to steal apples, arrren’t you?” A little girl peeked out from behind a hedge, unable to pronounce her R’s correctly.

“Apples?” Norbert repeated in confusion.

“Stop prrretending you don’t know what I’m talking about!” she huffed.

“I’ll throw one at you!” Norbert smirked, guessing she meant those smelly, speckled balls.

“Go ahead and trrry!” she shrieked in her high-pitched voice, crossing her arms. “They’re full of wrrrms!”

Norbert burst out laughing, which seemed to irritate the girl. She disappeared, apparently tired of arguing with him over the fence, and quickly ran out through the gate to face him on the street.

“Well, look at you! Filthy! And what arrre you wearrring? There’s a hole in yourr shirrrt! Ew! You’ve got leeches on your legs!” she exclaimed, pointing.

“What?!” he gasped.

“Leeches! They’re sucking your blood, and soon they’ll drrrain you drrry as a rrraisin! Just you wait!” she warned.

Norbert quickly looked down at his muddy legs and saw them too. Two slimy creatures clung to his calf, attached to his skin.

“What am I supposed to do about them? If you’re so smart, why don’t you help me?” he snapped.

“You have to sprrrinkle salt on them, obviously! Everyone knows that!” she said with an air of importance.

“And where am I supposed to get salt? Care to tell me that?” he shot back.

“Well! Maybe if you asked nicely, I might feel like getting some from the kitchen,” she replied smugly.

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“Ask you? Oh, sure!” Norbert shouted and stuck out his tongue. “I’ll go get it myself!”

“You little brrrat! Don’t you darrre, or I’ll tell on you!” she said, planting her hands on her hips and blocking his path.

Norbert looked her up and down. She had light hair tied with ribbons into two braids, glasses perched on her nose, and wore pale blue polka-dotted dress with a white collar. Her narrow lips were pulled into a strict pout.

“Do you know where Mrs. Tomanová lives?” Norbert asked.

“Why do you want to bottherrr herrr? She’s got too much worrrk to do!” she asked, still glaring at him over the rim of her slipping glasses.

“Why do you always have to meddle? I need to find her! I’m supposed to stay with her!”

“Hmph! Not likely!” she huffed, letting out an affected laugh and bulging her eyes as if to make a point.

“Oh, you bet! It’s all set up with my dad, you know!” Norbert replied, raising his voice.

At that, the girl turned on her heel, marched to the gate, and shrieked in a high-pitched voice, “Motherrr! Motherrr! Some little snotty bum is herrre saying he’s going to live with us!”

“What? Sibyl, what are you talking about?” came a woman’s voice from a small porch attached to the house, serving as an entryway. A moment later, Norbert saw a tall, elegant lady in an apron and long skirt, her short, wavy hair pulled up neatly.

“Good day,” he greeted her. “My name’s Norbert Erion, and my dad sent me to see you. He was supposed to come with me, but he got… held up somewhere,” Norbert explained quickly.

“Oh, yes! I’m pleased to meet you, Norbert! I’ve been expecting you.” She approached him and offered her hand. “This is my daughtterr, Sibyl. I see you two have already become frrriends.”

“Not frrriends!” came a muttered protest from Sibyl’s pursed little lips.

Mrs. Tomanová gave her a stern look but continued as if nothing had happened: “Come right on in, don’t be shy. I’ll show you to the bathroom so you can freshen up a bit. You must be hungry.”

“Motherrr? Wheerrre is he going to sleep, then? We don’t have any rrroom! The spare rrroom is forrr Aunt Marrruna when she comes to visit. He’ll have to sleep in the chicrrrken coop so he doesn’t brrreak anything, rrright?” Sibyl asked indignantly, her face filling with shock.

“Sibyl? What on earth has gotten into you?” Mrs. Tomanová raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure we can find space for Norbert and Mr. Erion in our home.”

“If he rrreally is going to stay herrre, he deserrrves to be punished! He was rrreally rrude to me! And… and he didn’t even say sorrry!” she said, stomping her feet on the gravel, creating little clouds of dust around her.

“Now, Sibyl! That’s enough! Don’t you know how to behave in front of guests? Why don’t you show Norbert where the bathroom is instead of putting on this silly show?” Mrs. Tomanová scolded her.

Norbert smirked at her in secret and took a small step forward, indicating he was ready to follow. But Sibyl stood still, visibly struggling with herself. Then she finally said, “Hmm, fine! Follow me, I’ll show you the way… frrriend!”

Norbert followed her. Mrs. Tomanová’s garden was well-kept, with a cobbled path leading from the street to the gray house, bordered by rose bushes on each side. The path lay under the shade of a large apple tree growing by the fence. As they reached the front steps, they passed a green bench peeking out from beneath a window, just before the path continued deeper into the garden. They stepped inside, greeted by a cozy little entryway filled with the sweet scent of ripe fruit. The room held an old table and a yellowed armchair beside a coat rack. From there, they entered a short hallway adorned with tiles, connecting to the other rooms.

“Hey, if you don’t take off those dirrrty shoes, I’m telling on you!” Sibyl warned as Norbert followed her inside. Quickly, he kicked off his shoes and continued down the hall after her.

“Herre’s the bathrrroom! Go wash those filthy feet!” she said before darting off to a nearby room and then vanishing somewhere upstairs, judging by the sound of creaking steps. Norbert washed up, and when Mrs. Tomanová came in, she removed the leeches by sprinkling salt on them. They wriggled and squirmed before finally letting go.

“This may sting a bit, Norbert,” she said, taking a bottle with clear liquid from a wooden cabinet, wetting a handkerchief with it, and pressing it to his wound.

“Ah! Ow!” Norbert squealed.

“Oh, come now. You’re a brave lad; you can handle it! How was the journey? Did you come from far away? Where’s your father?”

“We traveled almost all night,” he began, then quickly bit his tongue to avoid giving away too much. “I’m not really sure what happened to him, exactly… We were in the forest, then we ran into some people, and after that, everything’s a bit hazy because it was pitch black. All I remember is running, and then I ended up here,” Norbert shortened his tale, not wanting to tell Mrs. Tomanová how he’d been terrified by the horned creatures or that his father had likely used magic to hold off the cloaked figures.

“I hope those Henleinrrs aren’t involved again… They’ve been like hornets lately, prowling in gangs through the night, breaking things and shouting… it makes one afraid to even leave the house. Let’s hope your father shows up soon,” she said quietly, patting him on the shoulder. “Come, you can get up now. I’ll show you to your room so you can rest after your journey. Are you hungry?”

“Not really, thank you, ma’am. I had some bread earlier,” Norbert replied, though his stomach was growling; he was still a bit shy.

Mrs. Tomanová led him upstairs to a small room. Along the way, they passed a sulking Sibyl, who sat on the steps glaring at him angrily. In the room, there was a bed, a large wooden wardrobe with carved patterns on its doors, and a kind of table with a metal pedal and a chest draped with various fabrics.

“This will be your room, Norbert, for you and your father. The wardrobe’s empty, so feel free to unpack your suitcase. I’ll leave you here to settle in. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask—either me or Sibyl. She’ll be happy to help you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Tomanová,” he smiled, but inwardly he thought he’d rather avoid any help from the annoying girl. Once alone, he took a moment to survey the room, his eyes roaming over the yellowed walls and the white-painted wooden floor. He had never been in a room like this before. Where was his father right now? How was it that he hadn’t arrived with him? Was he alright? And how did he know Mrs. Tomanová? His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed a strange circular box with a button on the wall.

Curious, he got up and ran his fingers over the button, surprised by its smooth surface. It looked like it could turn. A faint click sounded, and suddenly, from a twisted pipe on the ceiling, a bright flame lit up, illuminating the room. Norbert jumped and quickly turned the button back. The light vanished.

“Magic!” he whispered to himself, a wave of excitement washing over him. This was his first real magic! He’d soon be casting spells just like his dad. Click, and the flames appeared again. He dared to look closer. As he examined the light with half-closed eyes, he realized the flames were all neatly contained in a glass cover and couldn’t escape. Click. Darkness. Click. Light. Click. Darkness. Click. Click. Click.

“Motherrr! That boy is messing with the chandelieeer! He’s flickering it on and off! He’s going to brrreak it! Electrrricity isn’t for playing! You said so!” came a voice from the hallway at the top of the stairs.

Norbert quickly shut the bedroom door, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment; that annoying girl had been spying on him, and he had promised not to use magic.

When nothing happened and no one came to scold him, Norbert eventually got up and opened his suitcase. He stored his clothes in the wardrobe, carefully tucking his cloak under the bed. Among the scattered shards of a broken mirror, he also found the small box he had completely forgotten about until now. Giving in to his curiosity, he opened it. Inside were several magical stones, each uniquely beautiful. One was sky-blue, another glowed as if with inner flames; beneath them lay a brown one along with a bright yellow stone that sparkled brilliantly. Yet, in Norbert’s eyes, the one his father had shown him was the most remarkable. It looked like a coal holding a glittering milky mist just beneath its surface.

When he took it into his hand, he felt warmth radiating from it. It was as though life itself pulsed within the stone—a link between the stone and a mage. Jolted by a sudden surge of caution, Norbert quickly returned it to the box, which he placed on the top shelf of the wardrobe. He also stored his slingshot and the pouch of seeds alongside it.

Norbert spent the rest of the day waiting in his room, gazing endlessly out the window, hoping to spot his father approaching from down the street. The longer he waited, the harder it was to fall asleep in this unfamiliar house, with the darkness settling outside the window and the sun long gone from the sky. Strange. Mr. Erion hadn’t arrived. Where exactly had his father sent him? Was this still Arcana? Just yesterday, he would have given anything to go on an adventure with his dad. Now, he desperately wished to be back in his net-bed at home. As he remembered that he didn’t even have his mother’s portrait with him, he began to cry quietly, and it was only when his pillow was thoroughly damp with tears that he finally drifted off.

As he slipped into the realm of dreams, he didn’t notice the bright glow that appeared behind the wardrobe door. Something thrashed about wildly within. When Mrs. Tomanová, alerted by the noise, peeked into the room later, both the light and sound suddenly ceased. All she saw was Norbert, sound asleep, clutching his pillow tightly. She gave him a gentle smile.

“Good night, child…” she whispered, quietly closing the door.