Page 28 of Ruins of Magic
They started to leave, and the baby cried. Arion watched as they came to halt, and the king ordered the men to spread out to search.
“Over here,” someone finally shouted.
Zallon and the king walked over to stand before the infant.
“Sir, we’ve heard rumors of a new druid royal being born,” Zallon whispered.
“Are you saying this may be the queen’s son?” the king asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Zallon said solemnly.
“When I saw her using magic, your majesty, she had something in her arms. It may have been the child,” the soldier that had killed confirmed. “It looked as if she set it down and ran.”
The king held him in his arms.
“What should we do?” he asked Zallon.
“It’s a baby, sire. You can’t just leave it in the woods unprotected.”
The king nodded. “We’ll take the child and leave him on the church steps. The nuns there will know what to do. He’ll got into the orphanage until he has aged. When do a druid’s powers begin to come in?” the king asked.
“I’m not certain. There are some things never truly mention in the archives,” Zallon mention.
“Very well. He’ll stay in the orphanage until he begins to show signs of magic, then we must remove him lest others start to talk. No one can ever know the child is a druid, or our role in his life on this day.” The king then ordered the men present to forget everything and forbade them to ever speak of it again.
Arion couldn’t help but think that his entire life had been a lie. He was told he had been left on the doorstep of a church in the village, abandoned, and unwanted by his family. He knew that had never been the case. He could feel the warmth and love surrounding the baby in the woman’s arms—surrounding him.
The scenes then began to play bits and pieces of his life in the orphanage. The one key figure continued to be Zallon. He had checked in on him, watching for signs. He had attended every play the orphans had put on and donated to every cause.
As he grew, strange things began to happen around him. They were subtle but present. Things like a boy from the village teasing him and the other orphans who suddenly tripped over his own two feet sending the books he was carrying sprawling across the floor.
At the time he had considered it karma but watching his life Arion could feel the magic welling within him and see it escape causing the boy to fall. There were other seemingly insignificant things, but they accumulated enough to cause concern in those around him. That was when Zallon stepped in and declare him a ward of the king and potential apprentice.
He could remember most of the remainder of the scenes through his teen years and up until modern day. Only a few recent things took him by surprise, things other had told him but he hadn’t believed. For instance, when his favorite unicorn had fallen sick with dark magic, Arion had desperately needed to get her to safety. His friends had helped him gather the supplies, but he had closed his eyes trying to process everything that needed to be done to build her a device to help carry her to the stables. At the time he had tried to praise Garron for building the contraption that would use to transport her, but his friend had insisted it was all him. Arion had thought he was crazy, but watching that scene play out, he saw himself standing there with his eyes closed, waving his hands in the air and whispering something as the sticks magically positioned and secured themselves. It really had been him all along.
Throughout all of this time he had felt no real emotions as he watched his enough life unfold before him. He didn’t harbor resentment towards the king or Zallon. They’d made a grave mistake, but they had both watched over him and kept him safe all those years.
Arion had no regrets, save one. Pictures of Valaria flashed before him.
The scene changed to him, Valaria, and Garron walking towards the pit of tar, only this time he wasn’t in the lead, Valaria was. It looked and felt so real as he helplessly watched her sink. He tried to get to her, but he couldn’t. Despair nearly crushed him as he called out to her.
The blackness wasn’t tar this time, but dark water. He dove beneath the surface searching for her. She was nowhere, then off to his right he caught a glimpse of her. Her foot was stuck in seaweed and it was pulling her down deeper into the blackened pit.
Arion fought to reach her, holding his own breath for as long as possible, just as he was about to run out of air, he had a revelation. That was the moment he realized he wasn’t dead, and this wasn’t real. Dark magic pressed in around him trying to kill him. If he had held his breath much longer it likely would have, but he was alive and breathing fine. He knew it was all in his head.
He took deeps breaths calming his racing heart and forced his eyes open to look around. He was underwater, but inside some sort of air pocket that allowed him to breathe. A thick black layer was above blotting out the rest of the world, but under its surface, the water was clear.
A light in the water helped him see as it curiously grew closer.
“What are you?” Arion asked it.
A female voice replied. “I am an undine, a water fae cursed to live in these waters as dark magic kills all who enter. Why are you still alive?”
“I nearly wasn’t,” Arion admitted.
“I could feel the dark magic behind it all,” he confessed.
She came close to the air bubble surrounding him and smile. “It’s been a long time since anyone came here. I’ve tried to save them all, but despite my efforts, no one has ever awakened, until now. You are safe in an air pocket I created to help you breathe. You did not scream or thrash about like most have that came before you. I’m glad you survived. It will be nice to have someone to talk to.”
