© 2006 Myr

Chosen One (work in Progress)

“Open in the name of the King!”

It was becoming far too common lately.  The kingdom had always been less restrictive than its neighbors.  Or it had until the war started at least.  The hue and cry was heard frequently throughout the city and the countryside alike.  Those words made parents both nervous and guilty.  The King had ordered all children that had the gift of magic be brought forth to the capital immediately.  If any child showed any potential, they were brought along with the guards; their parents were left with twenty-five gold Sovereigns.  This was a very large amount, which was not taxable.  The parents felt guilty because they felt as if they were selling their children to the King.  In a way they were.

Rymon looked up with a start at the sound.  He had only been in the city orphanage for a few days.  His parents, servants to a petty lord on the fringe of the kingdom, had been killed when the castle was sacked.  He had been on an errand to the next town when it happened.  He returned home to find everything he knew destroyed and everyone he knew dead.  The King’s Elite Guard had found him wandering amongst the ruins and questioned him.  Since he was only thirteen winters old, he was too young for military service.  All of his family was dead.  So that’s how he ended up in the orphanage.  It had taken only taken five days of hard riding to get to the capital.

The Guard entered as soon as the Headmistress opened the door.

“By order of the his Majesty King Bryne Yriad, all orphans in this establishment must submit to magical detection,” the brawny lady of the Dragon Guard announced.

 “Line up boys,” the Headmistress said quietly.

All fourteen of the boys lined up.  Some of them looked as if they were in truly bad shape.  The food they got was often barely adequate for their growing bodies.  The line they formed was haphazard.  A few of the boys had obviously had military training.  Rymon was among those.  He had been a page, or rather the page, for Lord Perafyl.  His father also schooled him as a manservant.  He developed a servant’s ability to blend into the background very quickly.

He was the fourth boy in line, his posture was in between the boy in front of him (at rigid attention) and the boy behind him (hardly able to stand).  As he had only been there for one night, he didn’t even know any of the other’s names yet.  He was too short to see around the boy ahead of him, so he wasn’t able to see what the lady guard was doing.  He also missed the entrance of a beardless boy who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him.

“Next!” the guard rumbled. 

The boy, who had been first in line, walked past with a relieved expression on his face.

“Next!”

The second boy in line limped by looking slightly disappointed.

Rymon was able to see what happened with the boy ahead of him.

“Name?” the beardless boy asked, his voice a soft tenor.

“Nevan,” the large boy replied.

The other boy nodded and waved a wand at him.  A stream of blue lights sputtered out of the end of the wand.  He smiled at Nevan.  “You have an untrained gift.  Please step over there behind the guard.”

Nevan nodded as followed his instructions exactly, standing at attention behind the Dragon Guard lady.

“Name?” the boy asked him.

“Rymon,” was his reply.

The boy waved a wand at him and it gave off an almighty bang, with red and gold lights streaming out of it.  The boy stared in shock for a few moments while Rymon looked on nervously.

“Please stand with Nevan,” the boy said after composing himself.

Three more boys were gathered there by the time all fourteen were checked.

The guard turned to the gathered boys, “Collect your belongings.  You will not be returning here.”

Rymon made no move at all, as he owned nothing.  The clothes he had been wearing had been discarded when he arrived.  His horse had been sold to help pay for his living expenses.  The other four did have a few things to collect.

“My name is Evanar.  We have some important things to discuss Rymon,” the wizard boy said to him.

Rymon, being the naturally quiet boy that he was, merely nodded.

“You have a very unique combination of gifts.  In fact, there is only one other that has tested the same as you.  What do you know of court etiquette?”

“I was Lord Perafyl’s page and squire.  I was also trained as a servant.”

“Oh yes.  Lord Perafyl was a friend of the King and always kept up with court etiquette.  The King was greatly upset to hear of his loss.”

Rymon nodded.

“Stay right next to me at all times, if you please,” Evanar said as the other boys started to come back carrying small bags.

Rymon murmured his assent and moved to stand slightly behind and to the right of Evanar.

The trip to the Palace proved to be a long one.  The other boys were jealous of the attention that Rymon was getting.  Evanar was in fact chattering away at Rymon, pointing out different parts of the city as they walked.  The Dragon Guards, and there were a dozen of them, surrounded the whole group.  However, Evanar and Rymon were forward of the rest of the boys.  Rymon, schooled by his father in emotion control, looked as blank-faced as any of a dozen serving boys you would have found in the Palace.  His mind was racing behind the façade, however.  ‘Why is he singling me out?  What did that explosion from the wand mean?’

Throughout the day of walking, Evanar was getting closer and closer to him.  He was a very friendly teen, often having his arm draped over Rymon’s shoulders.  Rymon was starting to feel stirrings of something.  He wasn’t sure what.  He felt something else and he gave it a mental shove, trying to push his mind away from it.

Evanar went a pale and grasped Rymon’s shoulders firmly and spun him around so that they were face to face.  He snapped his head to the side and the guards suddenly spread out, keeping people away from him and Rymon.

“Don’t do that Rymon.  Your power is very dangerous untrained and you could seriously hurt someone.”

Rymon’s eyes widened and he felt something else.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, feeling ashamed in addition to the unnamed emotion stirring in him.

“Rymon,” he said, firmly grasping the younger boy’s chin and forcing him to look him in the eyes, “you will be safe and well cared for where you are going.  There is nothing to be afraid of.  You can feel that this is the truth, can you not?”

Rymon answered after a long moment of silence, “I can somehow.”

“It is part of your gift.  I’m not very gifted in mind powers, but I’m bringing you to someone who is.”

Rymon nodded.

End for now