Ch.12

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    Calvin kept his hood up during his hike up the mountain. His heart was beating rapidly, hands shaking involuntarily as he made the climb. He wished he could pinpoint what was making him so nervous. Maybe he was most scared of what he would find. Calvin barely remembered his childhood, and if this man was telling the truth, if he really knew who Calvin was and where he had come from, then his past could finally be uncovered. He was so young when he and his sister were adopted that the memories of that time were so fuzzy he couldn't tell whether they were real, or a dream. Finally, his questions would be answered, and that overpowered any remnants of fear.
       As Calvin neared the top of the mountain, the view was beyond beautiful. Never before had he seen such a perfect view—lakes and rivers having dwindled into circles of rich blue, lined with crowded trees that appeared as vibrant blotches of green. From a distance, it looked like a painting, and made the long hike go a little faster. The sky appeared to be growing closer as he ascended, till it was inches away, resting at his fingertips—it was amazing what height could do. Colors of purple marked more mountains in the distance, and even Rayland's massive castle had receded to the size of the tip of his finger. From the ground, it was brilliant, tall, unreachable--but now Calvin was taller. This must be what God feels like, Calvin thought with a grin, The whole world in the palm of your hand.
        The sun was just now rising, catching up with Calvin who had risen long before it. If everything went as planned, would be getting back in time to begin his regular work hours. He was an apprentice to an old marketer, and spent long days selling foods to passing people. It was a boring job, but fitting for someone of his class (poor and without a title). The man he worked for was kind, and so Calvin had no complaints. Today though, he had been given the day off. He had said only it was for something very important, and the old gentleman smiled and gave it to him without question.
     Only, now as he looked around, the man from the day before was nowhere to be seen. He remembered what he looked like from the day before: young, handsome, with dark eyes and hair, and just enough muscle to make him a little intimidating. Calvin had been on his way home from work, when he heard the sound of footsteps from behind, splashing through puddles that'd been left from the rain. At the sound of someone following him, Calvin sped up, when the man addressed him by name: Calvin, stop.  At first, he'd considered running--it seemed like the thing to do at a moment like this. He had picked up the pace and the man spoke again: I can answer all your questions. This made him pause; lately, he'd been questioning everything—the world, himself, and especially his past. Even if this man was lying, Calvin couldn't leave when there was a chance he might be telling the truth.
      "Who are you?" Calvin asked.
       "I'll answer everything tomorrow. You see that mountain over there? I don't care how early you have to leave the house. Meet me there by dawn." Calvin had frozen, staring at the man with wide eyes as he continued, "But, there is something I want from you too."
      Calvin didn't know what the man had meant by that, and he had disappeared before Calvin could ask.
     Now, on top of the mountain at dawn, Calvin sat against a tree and waited.

     About an hour later, Calvin opened his eyes and blinked away the sleep. He must have dozed off. The sun was now high in the sky and the man was still nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Calvin considered he may not have been planning to come at all--or worse, Calvin was so tired from working late he'd imagined the whole thing. It wasn't until Calvin had lifted himself off the ground that a voice came from behind.
       "So, you did come after all." Calvin whirled around to see the young man standing there. A smirk was stretched across his face as he leaned against the tree with crossed arms. He was much taller than Calvin, but in the daylight, Calvin could plainly see the man's eyes. They were warm, light, kind, diminishing any prior fear--and instantly, Calvin liked him.
      "I had to," Calvin responded, "If you know something about me."
       "I know everything about you."
       "Who are you?"
       The young man smiled, "My name is Darryl, the current stand in leader of the Aigua cult," He beamed, "I've been looking for you for a long time."
Calvin froze. Did he say cult? As in a crazy religious group, or was it possible, he was referring to the ones with magic? Both were unnerving, and Calvin began to feel suspicious again. The old man he mentored under had shared such legends, and even told stories of a time when kingdoms had been flooded with magic. The old man believed some still were. Calvin had listened respectfully, but discredited it all as fables and nonsense. It seemed impossible there were Groups of magical people wandering and claiming territories, and refusing to be part of a kingdom or even make themselves known.The stories were nothing more than that: stories. Now Calvin reconsidered. Darryl was different from the old man, young and soundly spoken. He spoke with such assurance it seemed anyone would believe him, and Calvin was no different.
       "What would a cult want with me?" Calvin asked, eyes wide.
      "We want you back."
       "What do you mean?"
        Darryl chuckled, his eyes shining, "There's so much you don't know. You don't remember a thing, do you?" Calvin slowly shook his head. Darryl smiled patiently, before leading him down the mountain, watching the hills of green grow larger as they reached a stream. The sound of the running water was peaceful, and Calvin took a seat on the rock while Darryl stood in front of him, the wind blowing through his thick hair. "Let me explain, Calvin."
      Calvin nodded, and muttered, "Please do ."
      There was a glow in Darryl's eye, "You're one of the three."
     "What are you talking about?"
       Darryl sighed, "I forget how ignorant Rayland citizens are of magic cults, I'll have to start from the beginning. Every cult has three of their own members, chosen by the magic itself, to lead them. Think of it as having three kings instead of one, all in the same position; every edict is unanimously decided by three people, rather than a singular ruling power. The leaders in our cult were chosen when they were very young—and went missing when they were children. Ever since, we have been searching for them, and then I came across you . . ." Darryl was grinning as he spoke, "and I knew, I just knew, I had found one of the three."
      Calvin shook his head in protest, "That's not possible, I don't have magic."
     Darryl's eyes sparked, "you do."
     Calvin couldn't believe what he was hearing. This man had to be wrong. He would have known about something like that, right? But Darryl was so convinced, so sure, that Calvin couldn't close his mind to it completely.
    "Not that I know of," Calvin mumbled, "so, if you're not one of the three, what does that make you?"
    "I am a leader--just not one of the original three. I've taken their place, temporarily, until they return. I've vowed to search until I've found all of them. I have a ways to go, but finally, I've found you." Darryl looked at Calvin like he was gold, "The three of you went missing when you were only children. You, being the youngest, couldn't have been more than three year old  at the time. It's no surprise you don't remember. Even so, you met with me today for a reason. You knew something was missing, that there was more to you than you knew—the magic within you was telling you so. You coming all the way here today just proves you are who I thought you were--the youngest of the three and the first to be found."
       "How can I be a leader of your cult when I have never had magic?"
      "Like I said before, you do. You were chosen as leader, not by people, but by a power greater than human comprehension. That means your magic is stronger than the rest of the cults combined--it's just hidden, but not forever. And Calvin I will not stop until we have uncovered everything. With me training you, we will uncover the parts of you you didn't know were there." Calvin stared at him, silently processing his words. "Meet me here again tomorrow exactly at dawn."
      "But we've only just arrived, and today you were late," Calvin protested.
     "Hardly; I took the first hour to observe you.  I was curious whether you would stay or leave when I didn't show up—though you falling asleep made the observation boring."
    "I was tired."
    "Clearly; but from now on, I will be observing you when you are conscious, and in training. The magic chooses each of the three for a reason, and I am thrilled to discover why it chose you."    
With that said, the two continued their hike down the mountain in silence—the only sound coming from the rustling of new leaves from the springs cherry blossom trees.
    When they reached the city, conversation came easily again. While Calvin did ask a bit more on the subject of magic cults, he found he was more interested in Darryl. Calvin asked whether Darryl was born in or outside a cult, how he ended up leader after the three went missing, about his family and his life, but Darryl was unresponsive or vague. Eventually, Calvin gave up on figuring out the mysterious man and just enjoyed walking through the streets of Rayland on a day the sun was shining.
Calvin was home to his small house as soon as the sun began to set. He never minded the size—it was just enough for him and his mother, and it seemed like it had been forever since it had been more than just the two of them living there. His sister Alyssa had left to live at the castle years ago—and Calvin hadn't seen her since. It hurt whenever he thought about their time as children; Calvin didn't even know what Alyssa looked like now. When she left, the responsibility of taking care of his mother, an older woman fell on his shoulders.
    Tonight, oddly enough, she was nowhere in sight. Usually when he came through the door, she called for him to come eat his dinner before he headed up to bed. However tonight the house was dark, and silent; an uneasiness invaded his thoughts, and Calvin quickly headed to his mother's room, softly knocking on the door.
    A quiet voice came from inside, "Who is it?"
    "It's Calvin, who else would it be? Let me in." The handle at the door jiggled for a moment before his mother cracked the door open and peeked out. Her hands were shaking intensely, and face as pale as the moon.
    "What's wrong? Is everything alright?" Calvin couldn't keep the worry out of his voice.
    "They threatened us . . .because of her: your sister . . . something went wrong." His mother put her face in her hands.
    "What are you talking about?" Calvin grabbed her shoulders tightly before pulling her into a hug, "What is going on!"
    "I haven't been entirely honest with you Calvin." His mother looked up at him, and bit her lip, "Your sister wasn't sent to the castle to just do any ordinary work," she was trembling in his arms, "The truth is she was sent there for more serious reasons. I was forbidden to tell you by the King himself." His mother took a deep breath, "You sister was sent to the castle because I thought she would have a better life there, and could contribute to our kingdom. There was always something different about her as a little girl, but I didn't realize she had . . . magic, until a few years ago. When the king found out, he wanted her. That is why she was sent away. I thought it was a good thing, but that was before I knew what line of work he wanted her for. I didn't know she would be used as an assassin. Now she's angered the king and she's wanted: dead or alive. They may use us against her, hurt us or even kill us to make a point." She looked like she was about to faint.
    Calvin froze. Magic. So his sister had it too. Yesterday , if his mother had fed him this story he would have thought she was going mad, but after everything Darryl had said . . . "Mother, what else are you keeping from me?"
    She only shook her head. "Sit down, we need to talk."
           Calvin slowly took a seat beside her as she explained from the beginning; how she had found him and his sister out on the street and had taken them in there. She explained how he was only three at the time and his sister only four years older. Everything she said after that added up exactly with what Darryl had already explained. His past, piece by piece, was all starting to come together. All his years of questions had not been for nothing. Suddenly, it didn't seem so far-fetched that Calvin had this magic Darryl was talking about, because his sister had it too. The thought had his heart and mind racing and he was unsure which of them was winning. When his mom finished, Calvin could stay nothing. Rising from his chair, he kissed her on the cheek and headed to his room.
    It had to have been hours Calvin laid in bed staring at the ceiling. The events of the day were so crazy sounding he wouldn't be surprised to wake up and discover it was all dream. Calvin knew he should have stayed and comforted his mother; however his selfish need to be alone hadn't let him. He had been only eight when Alyssa had been taken to the castle, but still he remembered everything about her. Her smile, her laugh, her kindness, and her selflessness--closing his eyes, he recalled one of the only childhood memories that stuck with him. It was the two of them in an open field, running and playing while their mother had watched from under the shade of a tree. He even remembered the details. How it felt that day to brush up against the grass, the heat of the sun, the way Alyssa's blond ponytail swished as she ran. She was beautiful then, and must be even more so now. Every bit of him looked up to her, and though it'd been six years since they'd seen each other, every day he strived to be half the person she was.
      This is why Calvin couldn't believe that Alyssa would betray her kingdom—especially when it put him and his mother in danger. What could her reason be for doing so? There had to be a good reason behind it; Calvin trusted her enough to believe that. But for now, Calvin's questions all revolved around his place in the magic cult--and Darryl was the only one with answers

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