Thomas’ POV:

The streets bustled as the mid-afternoon sun shone down on the town of Burh-Tun. While the typical flood of traders had yet to arrive, a few travellers wandered through the town's gates, either by horseback or by wagon. A light breeze teased the white flags that hung from the town's walls and shopfronts.

The town was small enough that almost everybody knew each other, but there was enough room for surprises and newcomers were not uncommon. People moved around each other, each one trying to make it to their destination, while kicking up dirt and dust from the road, but many would inevitably find themselves stopping to talk with a neighbour or make conversation with a shopkeeper.

While many of Burh-Tun's residents were farmers, each with their own expansive fields, it was too dangerous to live outside of the city walls. Despite their solitary profession, they found themselves surrounded by community. Unless you were leaving for a mission or to deliver goods to another town, there was really no way to get away from the town for longer than a couple of days.

Not that you would want to leave the confines of its walls. Burh-Tun boasted its ability to keep its citizens safe. Burh-Tun had everything you needed defense-wise, to the point where it almost seemed overkill. Long-term residents, however, would note that the wizard's tower in the heart of the town that loomed over everything was absolutely necessary.

Conversation wiggled its way into every corner of the town, from inside the shops, to directly in the middle of the street, to the few dark alleys that nestled in between buildings. Worried remarks about the limited selection of meat at the butcher's shop drifted around corners. An excited recap on an adventure filled the air in a tavern. Delighted greetings and giggles could be heard no matter where you stepped your foot in.

Outside of a storefront that was particularly brimming with various items for sale, most being necessities, a woman grabbed her son by his collared shirt. He was young, blond hair almost white, and his face was red as tears rolled down his face.

"What did I tell you would happen if you stole?" The woman shook him, furious.

The boy sniffled. "G-Graves would come and get me."

"That's right," the woman said. "Graves comes and gets anyone who isn't good. Now what are you going to do when he comes knocking on your door one of these days, huh? With his scythe and cloak to come and take your soul? Because I know that by the gods, I'm not going to stop him."

The boy trembled, face turning from red to pale. "Please, ma, all I took was a piece."

"A piece or a bucket, doesn't matter. You still took it," she said. "Now, you're going to march right back in there and tell Mr. Omar what you did and that you're sorry for it. Use the money you got for helping clean Mrs. Faraday's floors earlier."

The boy nodded, looking down at the wooden deck below him. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"Ma?"

The woman sighed. "Yes, Peter?"

"Will Graves actually come to take me away?"

"If you keep acting the way you are, most definitely," she snapped. Upon seeing how upset Peter was, though, she softened a little. "But if you pay for what you stole, and apologize, then you've made up for the bad thing you've done, and Graves will turn a blind eye. But you have to apologise to Mr. Omar, do you hear?"

The boy nodded earnestly, and quickly broke away to dash into the store.

Thomas watched from the side of the street, having paused when the woman was shouting. He remembered with little fondness the time he had stolen something from a general store. The little foil-wrapped chocolates that the storekeeper kept in a bowl by the cash register. They had been free, the owner would give one to every kid that stopped by, but Thomas had wanted more, and so he had taken a handful and put them in his pocket. His mother had been furious when she had found him in his room, surrounded by little foils with chocolate smeared on his face. The terror she had instilled with him had made him never even consider stealing again.

It was a common tale, one that Thomas found himself not believing in much as he grew older. Graves' name was used frequently as a threat, and while the boy definitely knew how strong the god was, he doubted that Graves was keeping track of every young boy who stole a piece of candy.

Here and Burh-Tun and the rest of the country, though, gods were to be respected. You spoke their name as if they could be right behind you, maybe passing in the street. You kept their favourite foods and tea in the cupboards of your homes, just in case one decided to stop by. Everyone was treated as if there was a slight possibility they could be a god, especially strangers. If you wandered into the town with no home or food, you would quickly find yourself next to someone's fireplace, with tea and a warm meal. Whole families would sit next to you and listen to your story and offer you a place to sleep at night, all with the hopes of gaining the good fortune of a god. To shut the door on someone you didn't know was a risk not many people were willing to take.

Legends of gods of all kinds visiting the surface wandered from household to household. Some ended positively, families being granted great wealth or an ill member of the household miraculously becoming well again. Others ended poorly, the farmer's daughter turned into a spider or a suspicious amount of misfortune befalling a family after their guest left their doorstep.

Almost always, the gods appeared disguised as strangers, unfamiliar faces. It was a test of altruism, to see if you would help someone without any emotional connection to them. Frequently, they would even appear deformed or ill, to test the patience of the public even more.

But some gods preferred to not even try to hide, finding much more enjoyment in the gawking of their power than the hopeful politeness. Graves was one of them, though he had not been seen for at least a couple centuries. Legends told of him dressed in black cloaks with a silver scythe in hand, and no one could describe his face. Drawings of him like this were frequently found in clerical books. Thomas had seen one and it had made his blood run cold.

Thorna, the God of the Wild typically appeared as a hunched figure with a vine for a hand. He always wore green, and weather and crops became unpredictable in his presence. Weeds grew more frequently in gardens, wild animals would wander around the streets and act strangely. No one dared usher him out of whatever city he visited, however, it was much too dangerous to do so. Thorna's wrath was not to be reckoned with. He was known to send wolves and other beasts upon towns, or make nearby forests uninhabitable.

While a couple of resident's had their stories, Burh-Tun had never been visited by a god before. They were studied quite frequently, the town had many different temples and other places for religion, and almost all training magic users had to learn a bit about the pantheon. Elements skirted with the domains of gods, and thus respect for the gods closest to their elements was necessary for magic use.

Thomas, being a sage, had done a great deal of study on the gods, despite only being thirteen. He was learning how to practise all four of the elements, though right now he only had the basics mastered. He spent most of his time in the library set in the wizard's tower, reading and taking notes for himself.

The boys who lived across the street from him would always make fun of him, because he spent all of his time reading. A couple of his friends had remarked more than a few times about how boring his days must be. But Thomas, who had grown to love the smell of old books and quiet rooms, wouldn't have his life any other way. He couldn't see himself stopping his studies anytime soon.

And it wasn't like his life lacked adventure. He, following in the footsteps of his parents, had his own adventuring party. In between studying and practising magic, Thomas was able to travel and use his magic in the outside world to fight with his friends.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

His parents had a rather good reputation. While they weren't of nobility or anything like that, they were A class adventurers. They had completed a plethora of intense missions for the town to get that rank, and, for a part of their lives, had travelled all around the continent. Now, with their son, they remained close to home, not wanting to leave Thomas on his own for too long.

Thomas had grown up hearing all about their adventures. He had seen the sparkle in their eyes when they talked about past fights and travels with friends. He had known it wasn't all joyful, his mother had lost a good friend many years ago, his father, a brother. But the thrill in their voices as they recounted their tales had Thomas knowing at a very young age that he was going to be an adventurer.

A year ago, Thomas assembled the youngest C rank party in his town. Studying as a mage, it had not been hard to find others who wanted to join him. He had been delighted to meet a young cleric, Thorn, who could keep his party safe and intact with healing. After Thorn joined, he was able to convince a classmate of his, Alton, who studied fire and wind magic, to join as well. When they had been about to go on their own adventure, a knight-in-training named Jacob had stopped them and begged to join. After seeing what he could do with a sword, the party had instantly agreed.

They had gone on a few quests since then, most successful. They had struggled a little, but what mattered more to Thomas than succeeding was the fact that they all came back to Burh-Tun in one piece. The town talked about them a lot, it was surprising to see adventurers this young and hard-working, but Thomas was convinced that his party would turnout to be one of the best adventuring parties this side of the continent.

They just had to keep working, had to keep taking more missions.

Thomas continued around the busy street, navigating between people and horses. It was getting a little later in the day, and soon Thomas would be needed home for chores and dinner. He was lugging a couple of books in his bag, but he was so used to the extra weight that it didn't slow him down much. Besides, he had something important to talk about over dinner today.

His party members had already gotten their parent's permission to take on a new mission that would fulfil their ranking requirements for rank B. It would be a hard mission, but Thomas was confident in his party. He just had to convince his parents to let him go, and then they would be able to rank up. Ever since Thomas had learned of his possibility, he had been brimming with excitement. He had even struggled to pay attention to his reading at some point, which never happened.

The crowd died down and Thomas made his way down a residential street. His family lived in a nice home, though it wasn't in the richest area. The road was still dirt, and Thomas dragged his feet to watch the dust rise and fall underneath him.

He climbed the steps to the front door and let himself into the house with a key he kept around his neck. He could hear his mother working in the kitchen, and his dad was sitting in his chair, reading a book. He looked up and greeted Thomas with a smile.

"How did your studies go today?" his father asked.

"Good," Thomas said, setting his bag down by the door. "I've been learning more about the Goddess of Life and her connection to earth magic."

His father nodded. "Good, be sure to get your chores done before dinner. I think your mother might need your help in the kitchen after you finish up."

Despite Thomas' devotion to reading, he, like any 13-year-old boy, despised chores. He usually dragged them out as long as possible, not wanting to put in the effort that would ensure a speedy finish. That, or he did them so fast that he would have to redo it all.

Today, Thomas sped through his chores as fast as he could without leaving behind enough of a mess for them to be questioned. He didn't want to have to redo them after dinner, not when he needed to talk with his parents about the adventure.

That, and, Thomas wanted to be on their good side. His parents knew how thrilling missions were, but they also knew how dangerous, and Thomas had no doubt that they would be hesitant to let him go. If he could show them how good he had been, and how well he did with work, they would be more likely to let him go and he wouldn't be letting down his friends.

Fueled by both excitement and need, Thomas got his chores done in under an hour, uncharacteristically fast. Then, he found his mother in the kitchen.

"Hello, Thomas, are you done with your chores already?" His mother asked without turning to look at him, attention focused on the carrots she was cutting.

"Yup," Thomas said with a smile. "They're all done."

His mother turned, regarding him with a look of scepticism. "Are you sure? You didn't rush through them and leave them unfinished again, did you?"

Thomas shook his head. "I got them all done. Correctly."

His mother frowned a little and left the kitchen to inspect his work. Thomas watched as her expression turned to pleasant surprise. "Well," she said. "Aren't you a little hard-worker?

"Father said you needed my help with dinner, so I wanted to get done in time," Thomas said.

"Yes, well," his mother returned to the kitchen. "If you could continue chopping up those vegetables, I need to set the water on to boil. We're having stew tonight."

Thomas stopped his internal groan, which he knew would only bring about a 'you're-lucky-you-have-any-food-at-all' lecture, which was not what he wanted right before he was to ask his parents about the adventure.

He cut up the vegetables silently and continued to help his mother until it came to setting the table.

His family brought up small talk as they ate, asking Thomas about his studies and his friends. His mother told a story about a conversation she had with a neighbour, and his father mentioned something about the book he was reading. Thomas waited for a lapse in the conversation and butted in.

"So, I was talking with Alton the other day," Thomas said. "And you know how we're really close to becoming rank B?"

His father nodded. "Only a couple of quests away."

"Well, Alton found a quest that could get us our rank as soon as we came back," Thomas said.

His mother frowned. "It must be a big quest then."

He nodded. "It is, but I talked with my party, and we really think we could do it, and everything would go by much faster if we did it anyway. They've already talked with their parents and gotten permission for it, and I wondered if I could go too?"

"What's the quest?" His father asked.

Thomas deflated a little. "Mr. Benson thinks that there's a pack of wolves in the woods that's making it harder to hunt. He wants us to kill them and bring the pelts back."

"A whole pack of wolves? Tom, you know that's too difficult. It would be hard for me to track down a whole pack, let alone kill them. And you may have to go deeper into the woods than you've ever been," his father said.

"It won't just be me! And we can handle it. Alton has gotten a lot better with his fire magic, and you've seen what I can do! Mr. Benson wants our help, and if we succeed, maybe Burh-Tun will have less problems with getting food."

"It's dangerous, Tom," his mother said.

"I know mom, but please? My whole party really wants to do this and their parents said yes. If we don't feel like we can handle it, we'll turn back and go back home. I promise," Thomas said.

"You're the party leader," his father said, "whatever happens is your responsibility."

"I know, father."

"And you know what to do if you're in combat and your party can't handle it?" his mother asked.

Thomas sighed, "You run away as fast as you can."

"And if you can't run?" his father asked.

Thomas' words were recited. "You fire a warning colour into the sky. The enemy level's colour first, and then your party level. 20 is green, 30 is yellow, 40 is red, 50, purple, 60, blue and then 70 or higher is black."

"Very good," his father nodded.

"Thomas, will you give your father and I a moment?" his mother asked.

Thomas nodded and stood up from the table, leaving his half-eaten bowl of stew in front of his seat. There was a sinking feeling in his chest as he headed to his room. What would happen if they couldn't go? Thomas knew, logically, they could find another quest, and that they'd eventually get the B rank, but his party would be so disappointed. And then there was the possibility that they would go anyway, without him, and he'd be demoted from party leader.

He didn't know what he'd do if that happened. He had always been the leader. Both of his parents had been leaders of their party. Would his party even want him back if they were able to complete the quest without them.

Of course they would, they were his friends, but they would be disappointed in him for a while, and Thomas didn't know if he could handle that. He had always been the one his party had looked up to. He was the one that had led them to the place they were now.

There was a knock on his door, and Thomas' heart rose slightly. "Thomas, can we come in?" His mother asked.

"Yeah," Thomas called back and wiped away the tears that had started to fall.

"Your father and I have decided that you can go," his mother said.

Thomas almost leapt up in joy, but he was stopped by his father. "But, you must promise us both that you will be safe. No unnecessary risks, do you understand?"

Thomas nodded. "I'll be safe, I promise. I don't want anything to happen to my party."

His father smiled slightly. "Good, when do you leave?"

"Tomorrow, at sunrise."

"That early?" his mother asked.

"Well, son," his father said. "You better get to packing."