Chapter 1:
I’ve let the old man down again. If he finds out...who knows what he will do. He’ll scold me and will probably make me do extra muscle building exercises. I may even get grounded for a few days, not long enough to keep me from doing it again though.
Old man Jack isn’t my actual father. He’d just been taking care of me since I was born, just to clarify, they didn’t know right away when I was born. I was found in the village just a short while after some foreigners came through our village. The villagers said all I had with me when I was found was a blanket which I was wrapped up in, and a really weird letter that directly addressed the old man.
One of the only reasons I wanted to learn how to read, was because I wanted to read the letter I was left with. I wanted to learn if it held any clues as to why they chose the old man to take care of me. The letter went like this:
My dear old friend Jack,
I need you to take care of, and raise my child. Because of circumstances I am forced to leave my child in your care. Please don’t try to find me; it will only make matters worse for everyone than they already are. The child’s name is Leonard Hellano. I will come see him once things settle down. Please raise him and teach him well in my absence. Make sure he becomes a man I can be proud of. Tell him again and again how sorry I am for putting him in this predicament. Tell him I love him and wish him well.
Best of wishes,
Mika Hellano
I would read the letter whenever the old man was giving me a hard time, or when I was bored making me want to decipher something. My mother, Mika, left me here for the vague reason of ‘certain circumstances’. It was fine though. The old man took care of me. He’s pretty strict, but he always made sure that my bed was made and that I had food to eat off of my plate.
All of the people in my village were close, so if the old man wasn’t going to take me in, someone else might have risen up to the challenge, which was raising me. The villagers said that my mom was one of the villagers a long time ago, but she went missing from the village around twenty years ago. Eight years after she disappeared, I decided to add another mouth to feed onto the villages list of people. I was the one hope that they had in a long time to prove that my mother, Mika was more likely alive than dead.
The villagers would nag me about how much I looked like my mother, but they didn’t especially like my personality because they reckoned it was from my father, who they sometimes called a demon. That just shows how much they don’t like the fact that my father isn’t one of the villagers. Most of the people in the village marry inside of the village, so there aren’t many outsiders.
Most of the villagers started meetings and rumors as to who my dad was. Most of them were over the discussion of the old man Jack being my actual biological father. The old man has short black hair, blue eyes, and glasses, and I apparently act a lot like the old man did from his early days. The old man always went against all the rumors, but no one believed him because everyone knew that he liked Mika. The old man said he had never been with a woman, one thing I chose to believe about him, which started a weird conspiracy that the old man was gay. When I was young I used to go around calling him dad, but when the rumors started he started to fully enforce the fact that he wasn’t my actual dad. He was always trying to get me to stop saying that, but when the rumors started he snapped.
I don’t really care who my dad is, no matter what anyone else thinks, I consider the old man my father, or at least the closest thing to a dad for me.
Speaking of bragging; the villagers still brag about how much I look like my mom. Whenever the villagers described her, I would look into the mirror, “Wow, if what the villagers say is true, I really do look like my mom.” One of the villagers had a picture of her and, I must say, she was really pretty. She had thin red hair and deep dark green eyes. I also have dark green eyes and thin red hair. She always had her hair short, but I always thought it was a pain to keep on cutting it, so I just let it grow out. Now I keep it tied back with a white ribbon, which apparently looks hot, says the girls anyway. I also have small black strips of hair that creep in with my red hair. I guess my dad had such heavy black hair that some of it decided to creep into my looks.
I want to meet my parents myself before I make my wild predictions of how I think of myself public. I’m the kind of guy that needs to see every miniscule little detail myself before I can do anything thinking wise, otherwise it’s all superstitious jumble. Just one of the many reasons I suck at history.
I don’t mean to be rude by calling Jack an old man because he really isn’t that old. He said something about being in his late thirties or something the last time I asked. I’m only twelve, so thinking of how many years it’s going to take before I reach that old seems like a really long time to me. Redoing my life one or two more times would put me at his age, and that seems kinda scary, more diapers and baby puke.
Most of the people in our village are teenagers and adults. There aren’t many old folks or little midgets because our village is surrounded by the forest. They think the environment isn’t suitable for those with a low immune system. Personally, I think it’s nice in our peaceful little village. All of our houses are self-built, made out of wood. There’s always a nice cool breeze passing through, which some thinks is a pain.
Our village is one of the only peaceful villages left in this world. A large portion of the other villages, towns, cities, etc. are full of magic academies and training areas. Magic potential was given to select people around two thousand years ago. As a gift or a curse, who knows, but it’s here. Another reason our village is small is because all of the people above thirteen don’t have any magic potential granted to them from their parents, and only rare people with great luck are blessed by an otherworldly being giving them limited potential.
Until someone reaches the age of thirteen, a person’s magical potential is locked up within your soul. If a test proves you do happen to have a scrap of magical potential, you get sent to a professional school that also serves as an official magic potential training program. The old man didn’t have any magical potential whatsoever, so he came back to the village. He got really agitated because he was hoping to have at least a shred of magical potential. Out of his anger, he decided to become a professional martial artist, at least he could still help the world without magic. He says he’s happier now than he ever could have been in a boring training school.
Since the old man is a martial artist, he teaches the kids in our village, mainly to prep them for their magical potential fighting test. Since I live with the old man, I naturally have a more strict training regimen. The old man says I have a nice build now, but it isn’t extremely noticeable which I think is a little disappointing. I don’t especially want any more of a build because it was a pain getting into the one I am in now.
I look forward to the stupid, hard-headed people from other villages that come out into the woods to hunt. If they’re in their teens they always pick a fight with me. I love the look on their faces when I wipe the floor with them. If it’s an adult or cool-headed person, I go hunting with them. If the old man found out about the fights in the woods, mainly because it happens on a regular basis, he would make me do extra muscle training exercises. He once found out I was in a fight and threatened to send me to a school. I was turning twelve back when he said that, now, soon, I’m going to be thirteen, at which point I won’t have a say in it if I have to go to a school.
One day before someone turns thirteen, they have to go stay at the magic potential training school closest to where you live. You then stay there in a room until you almost turn thirteen, at the precise moment you turn thirteen, you have to be in a testing room. Immediately once someone turns thirteen, it will show up on the monitors set up that are connected to your body. If someone’s magical potential is high enough, it will show a visible sign. There are three different areas of magical potential that a person may have. Hale (healing) type, if the potential is high enough the plant in the room will experience different effects based on the sub-class. Denal (defensive) type will create a barrier which will block the monitors from gathering data, a different shape and colored barrier will be created depending on the sub-class of the person. Hellfire (attack) types will have something in the room begin, or fully, be destroyed. Depending on the sub-class within the magic area, a different type of thing will happen. Such as, the plant will get tougher and stronger, or grow, the barrier will envelop the body or just cover the front, and lastly, something in the room might melt, disintegrate, or explode.
The nearest town was a few miles away so the old man had to take me to the school. Our village doesn’t have any transportation so we were forced to walk. Since my birthday is in the fall there was at least a nice breeze blowing around.
A Hale was in our village at the time I was found, so they decided to have a look at me. Every person has to know their birthday because of the despicable magic potential test. Since I was found not knowing my own birthday, a Babe Hale came to find out exactly what time, place, and day I was born. A Babe Hale’s sole purpose is to find out the exact time, place, and day an orphaned baby was born. I completely forget the time, but that’s what my old man is for. He remembers things like that for me so that I don’t have to struggle with all of that memorizing stuff. The Hale said that the place where I was born was forced into the creeps and crevices in my soul so that they could never be uncovered. It was most likely forced down so that my parents could never be found. There are hardly any orphans so Babe Hales are hardly handy. This makes my life pretty strange. My past is like a maze, and only the ones who created it can solve the complicated puzzle.
