Being locked up in a pitch-black attic wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.
Nor was being tied to a metal chair.
The days slipped by in darkness. Licking his chapped lips, Raziel wondered if his parents had forgotten about him. Only the icy press of the Beast Card against his thigh kept him from going insane. He chuckled. As far as he knew, he was the only person in the village who had ever killed a beast. Objectively, he was overqualified for the [Hunter] class. The system had to give it to him now.
The hatch of the attic croaked open. Heavy footsteps. Raziel squinted, blinded by the flood of light.
His father [Tinker] squatted in front of him.
The earthy smell of tobacco clung to Ferrin Ravenbone’s clothes. A lozenge clinked against his teeth as he inspected Raziel with unfathomable gray eyes.
“Your mother misses you, so think carefully about your answer,” said his father in that soft, quiet way of his. “Have you learned your lesson?”
Raziel grinned.
“I won.”
A rough crow’s laugh left his father’s lips. He tongued the lozenge to the front of his teeth, biting down on it. “You shouldn’t be fighting beasts, boy. I’m punishing you because apparently death is too lazy to do it. You’ve done foolish things in the past, but this is a cut above.”
Raziel’s ears burned. “I didn’t start it. I was in a safe area when the beast attacked me.”
“You were running down a jackalope. I remember.” Ferrin rolled his eyes upwards to look at the dusty cobwebs. “This is the Dark Forest, son. There is no safe, only safer. Your ancestors merely cataloged where beasts roamed, and where they didn’t. That’s it. You know that brook that flows backwards? Beasts can’t stand being anywhere near it. The only thing keeping beasts from certain areas are their own instincts.”
Ferrin paused. “This isn’t your first time chasing a jackalope, is it? You’ve been doing it for a while.”
Raziel looked up, startled.
“The Dark Forest is ill-willed. If the forest learns you want something, it’ll use your desires against you. Don’t ever go chasing anything in there.”
Raziel knew of the whispering voices, the dark promises. His dad might lose it if Raziel confessed that after so many years of playing around in the forest, he felt a special bond with it - a kind of camaraderie. At times he felt more kin to the beasts that lived there than the villagers in Bramblebog.
The sound of the lozenge clinking against teeth stopped. His father waited.
“If you catch a jackalope, you get offered the [Hunter] class. Everyone knows that,” said Raziel. His emotions stirred up the image of his rival. “I can’t stand it anymore. Mom works like a dog for the Wealcrofts, and they treat her like garbage. All they care about is money. If I can sell enough furs and meat, they might let us pay to break her servitude contract.”
‘If we had money,’ thought Raziel, ‘everyone would have to respect us.’
His father sighed. “The Wealcroft situation isn’t simple. One day, when you’re more responsible and less hot-headed, I’ll explain everything to you. For now… stop worrying. Forget about the [Hunter] class. They make so much money because they all die young. Focus on school and playing with kids your own age. Childhood doesn’t last forever.”
His father must’ve seen the doubt on his face, for he asked, “Do you trust me?”
Raziel nodded.
“Do you think I’m weak?”
“...No.”
“Then trust me to protect our family. I’m far more concerned about you than I am about your mother.” Ferrin braced his hands on his thighs, standing up. The man’s head nearly brushed the ceiling. Though his frame was sturdy like an old oak tree, his fingers quickly and nimbly undid Raziel’s binds. ”Yesterday, Mrs. Skell came by to pick up the beast corpse. She told me to thank you for the kind gift.”
Ah. The real punishment.
His prized [Galefury Jackalope] had been given away to their horrible neighbor for free.
Raziel had a sudden thought. “Did you keep its eyes?”
“What?”
“The [Galefury Jackalope] had glyphs in its eyes. They must be magical.”
A ring of white appeared around his father’s irises. Fury, fear, disbelief - a range of emotions flickered there. Any fatherly warmth vanished and the air in the attic grew thick. Tobacco singed Raziel’s nostrils.
“Our family,” spat Ferrin viciously. “Does not dabble in the arts.”
Raziel’s heart froze. The Beast Card burned like ice in his pocket.
“Don’t go mouthing off about magic to anyone else, you hear me? We aren’t favored in the village. The last thing we need is more attention,” said Ferrin. “You think the beast’s eyes are magical? Then I’ll be paying Mrs. Skell a visit to burn them. If you ever ask her about the beast…”
“Okay, dad. Okay.”
Ferrin left, leaving Raziel to nervously turn over his father’s words.
Though his ribs ached unpleasantly, Raziel managed to climb down the attic ladder without wincing.
Why had his father reacted so poorly? In the past, people had spread rumors about the Ravenbones being dark arts practitioners. The Ravenbones were a reclusive family on the edge of the Dark Forest, after all. Raziel’s ancestors never went to school or church, and they had the bad habit of picking unusual classes.
Ferrin Ravenbone was a [Tinker] but he’d never been able to sell his inventions. The other villagers distrusted his work.
Lost in his thoughts, Raziel startled when a foot caressed his ear.
Lounging on the banister above him, Kindred [Student] smiled in that wolfish way of hers - all white, shining teeth - almost too wide for her delicate face.
“What?” grunted Raziel, irritably pushing away the foot.
“Oh, don’t be such a moody-puss. What did Uncle say? You were chatting for a while.”
Though Raziel and Kindred were cut from the same troublesome cloth, there was a big difference between them. Everyone adored Kindred. The golden child. His second cousin was just one of those people who seemed larger than life, and in a small, remote village like Bramblebog, people had no defenses against that kind of charisma.
“Wasn’t important.”
Kindred hopped down and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, pale green eyes glinting. “Liar.”
//
Dawn broke bright and early the next morning. After fifteen minutes of searching, Raziel found his schoolbag behind the bushes, waterlogged and stinking of mold.
He quietly snuck away to school before his parents woke up.
“Verminta?” Raziel caught up to the young girl in front of him. Verminta Skell’s curly, rose-blonde hair bounced on her shoulders as she walked. She was the only other kid from the village outskirts who bothered to attend True Leaf Terrace, Bramblebog’s only school.
Unlike Raziel, she wasn’t forced to attend by her family. She went because she loved learning.
She smiled. “You’re up early,”
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Raziel scratched the back of his neck. “I’m in hot water with my dad, so I’m trying out the ’good son’ thing.” He opened his arms. “What do you think? Do I look ready and eager to learn?”
“Maybe… lace your trousers first…”
She giggled as Raziel hurried to fix the blunder, and Raziel wondered why they didn’t hang out more often. Verminta might be the only person in the whole world other than his parents who didn’t hate him.
“Where’s your cousin?” asked Verminta in a small voice. “Ever since she moved in with your family, you’ve been walking to school together.”
“Kindred doesn’t wake up before eight.” Raziel paused. “Also, she didn’t move in with us. She’s just staying until she makes up with her parents. But I guess she’s been here for a while, huh?”
“Two months.”
Verminta’s tone gave Raziel a pause. “You don’t like her.”
Verminta twisted one of her curls around her finger. She didn’t say anything else, so Raziel dropped the topic.
They walked further into the village. Forest trees transitioned into mangroves, and a yellow-green haze stirred at their feet. When they came to a ravine, Raziel let Verminta cross the rickety bridge first, following behind her to make sure she didn’t fall into the muddy water below, which stunk like rotten eggs.
His mind wandered to his father, and then to his Beast Card. Verminta was the smartest girl in their class.
Raziel looked at her from the corner of his eye. Could he trust her with his greatest secret? No, not yet. If she told her mom, that woman might try and rough him up for the card herself. He needed to be subtle about picking Verminta’s brain.
“So, Verminta,” he said. “What’s your opinion on magic?”
She arched a brow at him. “It’s bad?”
“Why?”
“Because beasts are attracted to magic? Magic is banned in Bramblebog for a reason. We live too close to the Dark Forest,” said Verminta. “Mr. Grimble says the other villages near us use magic, and they get beast tides all the time. Because of our law, Bramblebog hasn’t had a beast attack in years.”
All magic was banned? Why didn’t he know that?
Admittedly, most of Raziel’s knowledge about magic had come from his mother’s bedtime stories and passages from the Sacred Book.
“Oh. My parents never told me.”
His dad’s reaction made more sense now. If Raziel spoke openly about magic, then the village would think he wanted to bring doom upon them. He’d have to practice with his Beast Card in the Dark Forest, far away from the village.
With the [Galefury Jackalope] by his side, he could take on any beasts that sniffed him out.
“Your parents don’t tell you anything, Raz.” Verminta’s curls bounced as she laughed. “Remember last year? You should’ve seen your face - you really thought Bramblebog was the only village in the whole world.”
They went around a bend, and True Leaf Terrace came into view.
The school was made up of several small buildings situated around a courtyard. A cluster of children waited at the gates. Raziel internally frowned at them. They were the rich kids from the inner part of the village, and their clothes were clean and wafted with the smell of scented soap.
In one corner, Olster Wealcroft held court. Despite being eleven years old like Raziel, Olster had the white hair of an old man. His bangs were cut straight across his forehead, and the hair on the sides of the head hung over his ears in squared flaps.
“I can’t believe my eyes. It’s Raziel Raventrash,” said Olster loudly, his dark eyes lighting up with glee. “What happened to your shirt? There’s a giant hole in it.”
Everyone laughed.
Raziel glared at the boy as he walked by, sorely tempted to take out his Beast Card right now.
Raziel and Verminta chatted about the lessons he’d missed. However, Raziel had skipped so many days of school that everything she was saying was incomprehensible to him. Verminta kindly let him copy her diagrams for the quiz until the bell rang.
With the scribbles in hand, Raziel was about to run into the classroom when he was suddenly ambushed and pulled behind a tree. The citrus perfume gave away his attacker’s identity.
“Did I scare you?”
“Not even close.”
Kindred [Student] looked at him approvingly. “Skip school with me? I have a couple things I need to get done. Could use an assistant.”
“I have better things to do than follow you around like a lost puppy.”
Kindred’s pale green eyes glittered. “If you come with me, I’ll teach you about magic. I won’t be stingy like Uncle.”
He froze. “What?”
Her brow twitched in amusement. She must’ve seen the eagerness on his face because her smile turned wickedly mischievous. “Oh, we’re gonna have so much fun.”
The next three hours were the most miserable of his life.
Raziel sourly held a stack of dresses, waiting for his cousin to make a decision. Kindred was very pretty, but not stylish. Her black braid had never seen a ribbon or a flower in its life. Frankly, it was shocking that she knew where the seamstress’s shop was.
Speaking of that…
The seamstress’s hawkish gaze prickled the back of his neck. Her arms crossed tightly over her stomach as though holding herself back from snatching her precious garments out of his grubby fingers.
Another dress flew into the air. Raziel wheeled back, managing to catch it on his growing pile.
Kindred danced out from behind the divider. Layers and layers of sky blue puffs and frills dripped over her figure. Smoothing down the fabric, she checked herself from all angles. “What do you think of this, Raz?”
“I like it. You look like a birthday cake,” he complimented.
“Ugh!”
Kindred stormed back to the divider and the offending garment shot into the air.
Raziel arched his neck, struggling to see over the pile of clothes he held.
The seamstress’s patience snapped. Raziel’s arms sighed in relief as she took the dresses. “Miss Holt, I’m more than willing to help you if you need me!”
Kindred peeked her head out. Her braid was in disarray, stray black locks poking out at every bend. “I just… I’m looking for something that makes me look… you know… nice.”
Raziel sighed.
The seamstress pulled a sunny yellow dress from the pile. “I thought this suited you well. What’s wrong with it?”
“I want to cover up my arms.”
“What about this?”
“I can’t pull that off.”
“This?”
“Are you kidding?”
The woman pursed her lips. “Dear, don’t you think you’re being too self-critical? Even my old eyes can see that any dress would look lovely on you.”
A moment later, Kindred dragged him out of the shop, muttering unkind things about the seamstress under her breath. A group of passerby did a double take when they recognized Raziel, stepping back a few feet and shooting him dirty glares. A surly looking man even adjusted the strap of his rifle. Raziel turned his head around, glaring back at them all. This was the reason why he kept out of the inner village.
“What do you need a fancy dress for? Are you trying to impress someone?” asked Raziel.
“I’m Kindred Holt,” she said. “I have this whole village wrapped around my finger. Don’t ask dumb questions.”
He snorted.
“Oh look!” Immediately changing the subject, Kindred pointed to a [Priest] wearing a long, leather coat, and circular shades over his eyes. “Father Linus is buying flowers. I wonder if someone died.”
Raziel was quite tired of being dragged around on a hot, sunny afternoon. “Are you gonna teach me about magic or not?”
“You wanna do it right here, where everyone can hear us?”
His ears burned red.
“I thought you didn’t care about getting in trouble. I guess you really are a little kid.” She laughed. “Don’t get so bent out of shape, Raz. I’m only teasing you. I’ll whisper.” Abruptly, she pulled him down behind a cart. Raziel’s hopes soared before being dashed when she put a finger to his lips. “Quiet. We’ve got trouble in paradise.”
A new person had joined the [Priest], and it was none other than Mayor Wealcroft. The [Mayor]’s shirt struggled to stretch over his jiggling belly, and a golden monocle gleamed on his left eye.
“Glorious day, isn’t it, brother?” said Mayor Wealcroft.
“I prefer Father.”
“Even between us?” The [Mayor] sighed. “I fear with a [Priest] in the family, this all gets too confusing. What do I call the man who married our mother and gave us life?”
“He’s dead. I doubt he cares what you call him.”
In Bramblebog, where everyone knew everyone, everyone knew that the [Priest] and the [Mayor] had smiles for everyone but each other.
The [Mayor] held the people’s confidence, while the [Priest] held the people’s hearts.
“Speak, Benedict,” said Father Linus. “You don’t normally seek me out.”
“If the church was closer to home, I would.” The [Mayor] adjusted his monocle. “My wife insists that you come to my election party tomorrow. So for her, would you please stop by, chant a few of the Great Immortal’s blessings, and drink some wine? Perhaps even have some fun?”
“Is that all?” muttered Father Linus dryly, turning around.
[Mayor] Wealcroft’s hand stopped him. “Ah - wait. Two students are playing hooky behind us. If we don’t see them, we aren’t obligated to do anything about it.” He said this with a wink in his voice, like he was speaking more to Raziel and Kindred than Father Linus. Raziel didn’t appreciate the gesture.
Without another word, Father Linus gathered his bouquet and left. Chuckling, the [Mayor] sauntered in the opposite direction.
“Father Linus is in a foul mood,” said Kindred. “Someone definitely died.”
Raziel looked at her, deadpan. “Did we spend three hours dress shopping… because you’re going to Wealcroft’s party?”
“My dad is his best friend. Of course I’m going.”
“What’s so special about the party? Of course Wealcroft will get elected. He’s always elected. No one else is even running for the position.” Deciding that he simply didn’t understand girls, Raziel huffed. Did Kindred even know anything about magic, or was she just manipulating him? It was likely the latter. She found a lot of enjoyment in stringing others along. “I’m heading home.”
Kindred crossed her arms and leaned back on her heels.
“Only bogfolk call it magic. The proper term is alchemy.” Raziel whipped around to find Kindred’s smirking face only an inch from his. “The day’s not over yet, cousin. I need shoes. Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll even tell you about [Dragons].”