Irwin's Journey chapter 3: Sorcerer says (Patreon)

Irwin wanted to run to relieve some of his annoyance but held back. If he ran into someone again, things would only get worse. So, he stalked through the town towards the school building near one of the central squares.

The odd sensation that was his new skill lingered in the back of his mind.

More like a balloon that is filled with something and that you squeeze dry, Irwin thought as he fiddled with the sensation, but not enough to accidentally trigger it. With his hands in his pockets, that'd ruin his pants.

He flexed the muscle balloon again, noting the sore sensation. Did Bronwyn have this with both of his skills? He hoped not. It was one thing to have muscle aches and another to also have mental muscle pain. As he moved, he bent down and grabbed a little grime, wiping it across the back of his hands, instantly hiding the cards' thin lines from sight. He wasn't interested in drawing any attention to it, at least not just yet.

The narrow streets he walked through were quiet and empty, which made sense as the first bell still had to ring. As if to mock him, a dull chime suddenly rang from far to the left. Irwin looked up at one of the dark spires from Lastristal castle. It was the place the whole of Malorin was built up against. Nestled partially in Gloomforest, it had been the sole bastion for survivors in these backwater parts.

I wonder if the Cityholder will send his grandchildren, Irwin thought as he slowly turned a corner. Ahead of him was the single largest square of the town, lined with craftsman's workshops to one side and the town's school on the other. The central street ran through it from left to right, and he knew that if he followed it, he'd either reach the castle or the town gate—neither a place he wanted to go to.

A figure stood, huddled against the wall near the school's double gate, watching his feet. Irwin wasn't surprised to see Greldo here at all. It was likely he'd been here for a while, too, as his mother was probably tumbling with another of the men, hoping for some coin. He sighed as he walked up, wondering what his friend would say about his card. As bad as it was, he was sure Greldo would have killed for it.

"Hey, Grel," he said from a good distance so as not to spook the other.

Even then, Greldo jolted and looked up with wide, fearful teal eyes. His dark, bushy brows almost came together in a mono-brow, and at twelve, he was already starting to show the thin shadow of a mustache. He calmed as soon as he saw Irwin, smiling half-heartedly before waving.

"Irwin," Greldo whispered as he moved next to the boy. They were of a height, though even Greldo had slightly more mass to him. "Did you hear?"

Irwin sighed as the looming image of going to the sorcerers returned with full vengeance. Oddly, Greldo looked at him with wide, gleaming eyes.

"You don't look too sad about it," he whispered as he leaned beside the other.

Greldo shrugged, his familiar sad smile cropping up. "Yeah, well… you know," he muttered, looking around and at the door before leaning closer. "It'll get me away from that horrible woman… the sorcerers can't be worse than that, right? At least I'll get food each day!"

"Well… probably. But you know how few ever return alive, right? And those that do… remember old Garbil?"

Greldo waved his hand in the air. "Doesn't matter. I'll not survive another year here… That woman? She's managed to charm one of the older guards, promising him she can still bear him some children."

"What? Who?" Irwin asked, surprised. It had been a long-standing bet amongst the youth that Greldo's mother would never find anyone that stupid.

"Tyson Bas," Greldo said with a grimace.

"That violent maniac?" Irwin said as he swallowed. He instantly knew what Greldo meant. If he had to live at that man's house, he'd be in for a beating every other day or more.

"Yeah, I heard him beat her up two days ago, but she didn't seem to care much. Was all happy the day after, sporting her blackened eye and telling me that Tyson just showed his love like that…"

"By Gelwin's beard, you might be right," Irwin said, wanting nothing but to change the topic.

"What's that?" Greldo replied, looking confused.

"Nothing," Irwin said as he suddenly grinned, though it quickly turned into a pained one. "Bronwyn is back-"

"Did he bring you a card?" Greldo hissed, his eyes darting to Irwin's hands.

"Yeah," Irwin said hesitantly as he raised his hand for the other to see.

"Oh, it's a utility one," Greldo said, taking a single, short look before giving him a grimace.

"Yeah," Irwin said as his shoulders hung. "I'd had hoped…"

Greldo didn't reply, and they stood there for another five minutes. Then a group of boys and girls moved in from the main street from the noble's district. One of the boys waved his gloved hand at another, electing a loud ooooh, from a few of the girls. Must have gotten another card, he thought. Maybe if he was lucky, he could get a glove to cover up his, though it would likely only draw more attention to it. Eyeing the boy's leather jerkins and padded pants above black boots, Irwin sighed wistfully. He'd probably not get the new set of boots now.

Wait, when would they have to leave? Not today, right? Suddenly he recalled Bronwyn's words, and his hands turned cold, and his stomach clenched, reminding him suddenly he'd not eaten since the previous afternoon.

"Do you know when we have to leave?" he asked with a shudder.

Greldo was staring straight at the other children, gazing at Clarish, a tall girl with her hair in a long, curly ponytail. She was one of the few children who had a weapon, as she wielded a long quarterstaff with metal-plated ends. Some say she slept with it, which Irwin found more than reasonable as the price of the weapon could feed him and his mum for a month or longer.

"Dunno," Greldo muttered, tearing his eyes from Clarish.

Irwin didn't even bother looking. He'd noticed Greldo and the other boys had been giving her more and more attention the last year, and he knew why. She was smart and beautiful, and with her being the daughter of one of the few carded tailors, rich to boot. He'd seen more than a few stare at her in class with a wistful, far-off look.

Fools, Irwin thought, somewhat smug. Clarish had no interest in any of them, not even Lark, who was better than her in most things besides turning boys' heads. If she didn't want Lark, what chance did any of them, or him in particular, have?

A clunk from the door of the school snapped him out of it, and he mechanically moved to the back of the line of youths that had formed.

"So, I hear we are finally being relieved from your skinny presence?"

Irwin looked up from the high-pinched, cocky voice to see Bast and his friends grin at him. All three were brawny and could have been brothers from both their looks and intelligence, which was the lowest in the class.

Because you three are going to the sorcerers? Yes, I've heard, Irwin thought, but he said nothing. He wanted to, but getting a beating after school wasn't his idea of a good time.

"What now? Afraid to speak?" Bast said as he stepped closer, his nasty grin widening. His hands moved towards Irwin, who couldn't stop himself from flinching.

"Hah! You won't survive a day! I'll light you a candle when we hear you're dead," Bast said.

"Inside, brats! You must have heard, but there is important news!"

The elderly teacher, Rhym, father to the current smith Randal stood at the door, staring straight at Bast, who scratched his nose as he backed off.

"I'll find you after school," he whispered. "Some bruises might motivate you to get lost sooner!"

Irwin slumped, already feeling the heavy thuds on his body. Perhaps they won't go, and it might actually be better at the sorcerers, he thought. For a second, he wondered if he could perhaps burn the three with his flame to scare them off. Then he recalled the pinky-sized flame he'd produced.

"We can just wait in the attic till they are gone," Greldo whispered, and Irwin nodded dumbly.

As they followed the other children into the stone and wooden building, they were all led into the largest room, which was normally used for festivities and the occasional shared breakfast. Irwin stopped in his tracks as he saw the tables lined together and laden with plates and baskets filled to the brim with bread and cheese.

"There's milk," Greldo said, for the first time not whispering, and a round of laughter came from the front of the class as a group of older boys began whispering and pointing.

"Pipe down, brats," Rhym shouted, his voice wavering as he moved to a small elevated podium. It was empty, but Irwin saw a cloaked figure standing near the wall.

"You will all be grateful to know that we all can share this meal, as gifted by master Xourdin," he said, waving his hand at the figure. "Before we do, I've got some not-news, as I'm sure most have heard it by now!"

Scraping his throat, Rhym spat out a yellow goo to the side of the podium.

"Due to a minor inconvenience at the Sorcerer initiates tower, the city council has deemed it necessary to send a larger than normal group of you bra- children. To celebrate this momentous occasion, you will all eat, after which Xourdin will explain a few things, and then I'll let you all know who has been selected. Your parents already know and will be waiting for you at noon. Those who are chosen can then go with them for-"

The figure scraped his throat and Rhym blinked, falling quiet. Irwin saw he was annoyed at being interrupted but didn't respond. Instead, he shrugged and waved at the tables. "Go eat."

Irwin followed Greldo to the furthest table, making sure to stay far away from Bast and any of the other bullies. As he sat on the bench, the smell of warm bread made him salivate, and as he saw the big mug of warm milk, he almost grabbed what he could. Then he swallowed and looked around- everyone was staring at the food, all except for the nobles, who were frowning at the table in disdain.

Normally Rhym would tell a long story about how lucky they were to be alive and not live on the plains or near the coast where no food was to be found- but as everyone turned to him, he seemed flustered.

"Eat, I said," he snapped.

All around, children shrugged and began eating, and Irwin turned to his plate. There was a thick vegetable porridge on it, whole carrots lurking within, and he even thought he saw a few pieces of gravy. His stomach rumbled, and he grabbed the spoon, a piece of bread, and ladled the porridge in his mouth, almost burning it.

For most of the next ten minutes, only the noble's children spoke, the rest of them busy trying to clean off all the food from the tables.

As Irwin swallowed the last of the second helping of bread, he wondered why he felt like he could still eat more. He'd eaten more than he could remember having had, though it had only happened a few times during Gelwin's eve that he could actually eat more than he could finish. Now, like with the water that morning, he felt-

Something changed, he thought as he looked at his hand. Some of the mud and grime had gone from his hand, and he could see parts of the card. It was well known that common cards gave no change to one's body unless they were specifically meant for that. Only uncommon and above cards did that, and the rarer the card, the more significant the change.

"Careful, don't draw attention," Geldo whispered, masking his attention by handing Irwin another big chunk of bread and cheese.

Irwin nodded gratefully, continuing to stuff his face while keeping an eye on the others to make sure he wasn't drawing attention. When he finally felt satiated, many of the larger boys and even some of the girls were still eating, though he was pretty sure they were going about it slower than he had. Wiping the last of the thick, sweet milk from his lips he got a poke from the side.

"It is a common, right?" Geldo whispered so softly that even Irwin barely heard. Still, he took a quick look around before nodding and jerking his head back to the table.

It took another while before everyone seemed finished, and Rhym moved back from his own table where he'd eaten a little but mostly drunk from his flask of Shril. His voice was a lot more stable, and his face less pale as he stood straight and glared at the children.

"Right, make sure to thank master Xourdin for his generous gift by listening quietly as he speaks!"

There was no response, and Irwin repressed a scowl. As if any of the children, even the nobles, would have dared! As old as Rhym was, he had a full-hand, and even one on the left, making him one of the most carded people and most powerful people in Malorin. If he hadn't gotten so old, he'd probably still be further north, near one of the richer cities.

His thoughts stilled as the shrouded figure of Xourdin stepped forward. The man's burning eyes passed across the children, and Irwin felt himself freeze as he stared into them for a short moment. He was glad the man didn't linger at him as he did with Clarish.

"I'll cut this short. I'm here to bring a dozen of you along to the Initiate tower tomorrow morning. I know for some of you this is short notice, and I apologize on behalf of the good people of Anghulin, however-"

Xourdin spoke in a soft but powerful voice, waving around.

"All of this is only possible as long as there are those guarding it from the Diflor and other dangers of the world!"

Nobody said anything, and Xourdin nodded before turning to Rhym. "I don't think it's necessary for you to come and tell them who is coming."

Rhym blinked in surprise, lips parting, then his tongue darted out, licking his lower lip before he sat back. He looked around, and Irwin saw the old man's gaze flicker to Lark and Clarish a few times before looking at Xourdin and seeming ready to object. Xourdin held his gaze for a few more moments, and Rhym finally looked down, muttering something.

"Alright. When I call your name, move to the wall behind me and wait," Xourdin said. "I'll be talking to you all privately in one of the classes after while master Rhym continues his lessons."

"Clarish Uldrot."

Irwin's mind froze as Xourdin spoke, and for a moment, everything was still, then there was a scraping of chairs as a few of the noble's sons rose. Amongst them was Lark, the grandchild of the current city warden, the most powerful man in Malorin.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, his voice already deeper than those of the other boys. "Clarish is-"

"She wasn't on the list," Rhym said as he stood, his hands clenched and panic in his eyes.

"Quiet," Xourdin snapped. "The sorcerers are not obliged to accept the secondhand things the ungrateful give them. We are the last line of defense against the Diflor!" as he spoke, his voice rose in volume, and five cards began glowing on the back of his hands.

He has five! Irwin thought as he looked around to see if anybody else had noticed. Everyone had, as he saw the whole class staring at the Sorcerer's hands, even Lark froze in shock. Five! It was but one more than Rhym, but the difference in power would be something impossible to overcome.

"You can take up any issue you have with the Towers! Now, be quiet lest I remove you from the room!"

Now everyone turned to Rhym, who was shaking visibly. His hands gripped his own wrists, and he suddenly turned and bolted for the door.

"Yes. Go tell that old fool what I've done," Xourdin snapped. "Also, tell him not to come to complain unless he wants a fight! Tell him my fifth is as my fourth!"

Irwin sat back, and he wasn't the only one. Though he had no idea what the Sorcerer had meant with the last bit, he was sure it didn't mean anything good.

Xourdin focused back on them and began snapping off names, and Irwin almost expected Lark to be among them. Perhaps he didn't have to leave? If the Sorcerer wanted only the best, then! There were a few noble's sons and daughters and some of the elder children of the crafters, but his name hadn't-

"Irwin Roddington," Xourdin said, not looking at him but continuing. "Greldo Domnyr!"

Irwin was still staring at the Sorcerer when Greldo grabbed his sleeve and pulled him up and towards the wall. "Move before he gets angry," Greldo whispered into his ear.

He followed his friend until he was standing at the wall, barely realizing he stood beside Clarish, who was a full head taller than him. Xourding finished and stepped towards the remaining children.

"Now, go back to your normal classes, and when Rhym returns, alone, I am sure, tell him not to bother us!"

He spun around on his heel and pointed at the twelve children.

"Follow me!"