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The Lost Scholar
Chapter l: The Magician and The High Priestess

Chapter l: The Magician and The High Priestess

There was another sound that flooded his ears, someone was crying. Gabriel opened his eyes and turned back. The sound augmented as he approached a bonfire littered in black snow and crow feathers crinkling with embers.

There was a scent that stopped the child in his tracks, the mix of iron and wine. Quickly realizing the trail of rose snow ended at the lively bonfire. Knowing better not to approach he did so anyway.

Gabriel continued to approach, drawing the attention of the man who's wails echoed through the pitch black forest. “Stay back!” The boy stilled, almost jumping out of his shell with how loud the man screamed. “Don’t come any closer!” The man warned again as he scrambled back against the carriage. A man standing outside the carriage cried on his hands and knees. Gabriel could not make up any features because his face was covered in dark stained wraps.

Gabriel reached into his satchel producing the bread, no longer fluffy and warm from being squished with his heavy inventory. “I bring no harm…” the child said, taking careful steps forward as he locked eyes with the stranger’s sky blue hues tinted with red saline.

Gabriel, with his free hand, lifted the crucifix around his neck and presented it to the stranger; a universal sign of peace. “I am the child of Grizelda and Johan Amesthyn.”

There was a mix of emotions the eyes of the stranger projected, fear, disturbance and hesitation as Gabriel revealed that fact. Now only inches apart the child noticed the stranger’s lower face was covered in a cloth stained with blood. The stranger’s body shook and tears spilled from his screwed shut eyes and a moan of despair forced through his throat as he tried to calm himself.

Gabriel couldn’t understand what the stranger cried about but the little boy knew just how to fix it. He had seen his mother do it countless times. Placing the bread on the man’s lap, Gabriel produced his father’s Bible and found the page his family referenced when in crises.

Gabriel narrated,

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

The child lifted the crucifix from his neck and placed it against the stranger’s head and proceeded to pray as he hung his head, eyes closed.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name’s sake…”

Gabriel almost faltered as the stranger continued to pray with him. His bandaged hand reached the back of Gabriel’s head to press his own against his. The small boy shut his eyes and continued with him.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.”

The ashes bear aloft as the black feathers cyclone around the growing bonfire. The blood in his hands dripped and drained of color as it blended with the pure snow.

“You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the lord

forever.”

Lightning struck the bonfire behind them and a storm of embers swirled as shadows burst from the char and ash. Gabriel shields his body with his heavy coat, as well he takes refuge in the stranger's embrace. His touch was far warmer than it ever was before.

A blond woman with a swollen stomach ascended from the pit of wet ash chuckling quietly. “Oh dear, praying for forgiveness?” She rubbed her stomach, a common trait of pregnant women. Her dress was the strangest thing he had ever seen, it was transparent tunic with a hood and long sleeves. “Such a rare sight to see a man collapsed in despair.”

“Wait inside” the man commanded, Gabriel missed no beat and shuffled into the carriage and locked it tight.

“It's rather sad, how heartless could you be, killing children? Oh dear what will the town think…?” The woman mocked and she tucked a stray strand of gold back into her messy braid.

"Probably along the lines of 'there are demons among us,' or my personal favorite, 'kill the hexe…'" The stranger emphasized with the lowest and most feral growl he could muster.

“Witch…?” Gabriel, at a loss, stared at the window clutching his father’s bible and searching for his crucifix.

“Look who calls the kettle black!” The pregnant woman laughed hysterically. The stranger, or Roy, kept a calm demeanor. There was something contradicting his feelings as small embers danced around his tightened fists.

“We know everything about you and your “miracles”...” The woman continued, now setting a dainty foot on the soil. “...You are a witch like us, why don’t you accept it?” She held her palm elegantly over her rose lips giggling lightly. “At least when you pray to god ours listen.” Her red eyes shift downwards her stomach and she rubs it gently and longingly. “A true miracle…”

“I am not a witch… I am the knot in the pit of your stomach,” he corrected, it seems as if Roy had nothing to lose by challenging her. It was such a drastic change from a man in despair to the most fearful of men to confront demons.

The woman shifted her gaze at Gabriel, the child cowered behind Roy. “Clearly you broke through our spell,” she said before looking back at Roy, “it doesn’t matter anyway. I have the upper hand…” The witch's feet rose from the ground and she flew while holding her palms at Roy. He ducked and lifted himself up with his gloved hands kicking upwards, knocking the witch down into the ground.

“I have fought women with more beauty and valor than you ever wish to have. No lesser god can give you that,” Roy said.

With every blow they landed was similar to mild explosions. The witch moved like a falling petal guided by the wind and Roy like a river streaming down the bank. Different worlds and yet they were almost in complete synchrony. Gabriel could tell she fought dirty using her hair accessories as darts, but Roy kept an even field with his share of tricks. Finally the witch pinned Roy down against the still burning bonfire. “You’re all talk, Firestorm!”

“No!” Gabriel screamed as he pounded the stained glass window.

The witch laughed as the shadows slowly dragged Roy into the pit of fire and tar. “You were the very thing we feared the most! Well, of course besides everyone else in the town. The coven will be glad to hear I took down the infamous Firestorm…”

Gabriel rushed out to assist him with his little dagger, he almost dropped it as soon as the pit where Roy sunk became magma. Brighter than any light he ever saw blinded Gabriel, but he just needed to see. From the lava, Roy lifted a long sword blade with a ruby hilt.

“What…?” The witch took her distance as fire cinched the tattered clothes.

Roy, once on his bare and dirty feet, sick of hearing the witch’s nuisance he spoke, “I grow tired of your bitch craft.” Roy held his palm out and a bolt of lightning shot through paralyzing the witch in place. The witch’s body barely contained the rush of lightning within her, resulting in soiling the ground with fluids.

The once cloak and robes of Roy Firestorm cindered into stardust as they settled on the melted mud. Flowers budded and grass bloomed in a circle around him almost tangling with his toes and ankles.

Lifting one heavy foot, Roy yanked at the roots and flowers as a path of grass grew as he stepped. He lifted with both hands the red blade of light and with a singular slash the blade met with the skin of the witch. A scream thundered from her bloody throat as her skin cauterized and burned leaving nothing but ash.

Gabriel’s blue eyes stared, for the first time a rush of emotion filled his small heart, slowly swelling to his throat. Roy glanced at the boy dropping the sword and with heavy pants he collapsed into the bed of flowers.

Gabriel rushed over and kneeled beside him in panic. “Are you okay!” the boy called but the man did not respond. Frighteningly, tears of blood spilled from his dilated eyes. His eyes dimmed and he ceased breathing altogether. It was almost like looking into the abyss and screaming into it with no response. His left hand clutched something, Gabriel touched and pulled at the chain revealing the crucifix he misplaced. Roy held the holy symbol so tightly it indented into his pale skin.

From behind them, the Sun finally rose from between the dark clouds. The child heard the distant song from before drowning in the shallow beat of Gabriel’s heart as he prayed lightly. “Loving God, I pray that you will comfort me in my suffering, lend skills to the hands of my healers, and bless the means used for my cure. Give me such confidence in the power of your grace, that even when I am afraid, I may put my whole trust in you; through our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.”

“Gabriel!” The small boy heard a familiar male voice not too far. “Gabriel!” another voice called, this one female.

“Mamá! Padre!” the boy called back with a strain in his tired voice. He was thrilled they are so close, they will help the stranger. “I am over here!” he added.

A tall man with red hair and duo tone eyes rushed in, a cold cloud formed as he huffed. “Grizelda! I found him!” The man ran over, almost collapsing as he saw the body beside his child, his yellow and purple eyes scanned the body almost in disbelief.

“Gabriel!” A woman with long brown hair dragging on the floor and blue eyes struggled to run through the dense snow. She too stopped and gasped when seeing Roy on the ground.

“...Grizelda, get Gabriel… I’ll help him.” Gabriel’s father said and carried the dead weight of Roy’s body in his iron smitten arms.

Gabriel looked at his parents confused, his mother Grizelda picked him up and both she and his father Johan rushed back and out of the Dead Woodlands and back into the sanctum that is the Amesthyn household.