The magical journey of a countryside boy

“​Oh, it looks like you are still very energetic, if you can talk about fantasies like that,” Trojjan replies, staring down at William with a completely passive expression. He subtly turns back toward his work, adding dryly, “Maybe I should tell Betty you came back.”

​A flush of embarrassment hits William’s cheeks. He hurriedly retreats into his small room to escape, completely failing to notice the sudden, heavy tension that tightens across Trojjan’s face the moment the boy turns his back.

Few more months pass by, and winter completely blankets the city. William’s mornings quickly settle into a brutal, familiar routine. He starts by cracking a thick layer of ice off the water troughs in the stables, his fingers numbing straight through his gloves, before dragging a heavy broom across the shop’s freezing stone floors.

Eventually he gives in to the cold, slipping out under the excuse of needing to warm up. John’s forge is only a short walk away, and the heat that greets him is always worth it. Since the chaotic rush for weapons and tools finally died down, John actually has a chance to breathe—but these days, William rarely finds him alone. Cecily is almost always there, inventing some random chore near the anvil or just lingering in the glow of the hearth. William usually just claims a wooden crate near the fire, rubbing his hands together and quietly watching the two of them interact, just glad to be out of the wind.

Outside of work, those monthly visits from his family become the one thing he can truly count on. Uncle Rob and Matt always make the trip, but the third spot rotates every time. The funniest days are easily the ones when Emma tags along. The moment they arrive, she doesn’t even look William in the eye; she just sprints straight past him toward the stables to find Betty. At this point, William is completely convinced he is just her excuse to come visit the horse.

Yet, despite the comfortable routine settling in around him, the obsession that brought him to the city in the first place refuses to leave him alone. He tries to be careful about it. Whenever a strange traveler or an odd customer walks into the shop, he fishes for stories through casual, off-hand questions. He even tries dropping subtle hints to Trojjan while they work side-by-side organizing the heavy inventory—which turns out to be completely useless. Trojjan ignores every single hint, changing the subject entirely or simply meeting William’s eyes with a stony, unbothered silence that only makes the boy more suspicious.

This book was originally published on NovelPhoenix. Check it out there for the real experience.

As the harsh winter finally begins to break, the first signs of spring creep into Arindale. The air still carries a sharp chill, but the stubborn snow is melting, and tiny patches of green and pale flowers are pushing through the thawed earth.

Inside the shop, Trojjan hands William a carefully wrapped, heavy package. ”You need to make a delivery to City Hall,” the old man says, his voice flat. ”It’s a large order of Vigor’s Potion, meant for a specific person. Tell them it’s for the head clerk.”

William looks down at the parcel, his curiosity immediately piqued. ”What does a Vigor’s Potion do? And why aren’t you delivering it yourself?”

A sudden, deep blush spreads to Trojjan’s ears. He coughs violently into his fist, completely avoiding William’s eyes as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The last thing he wants is to explain what the potion is actually for.

”You... you aren’t supposed to know what it does,” he mutters, his usual grumpiness totally overridden by pure embarrassment. He clears his throat, forcing a scowl back onto his face and crossing his arms. ”And as for why I’m not going—I simply have no desire to meet that person. Ever again. So you are doing it.”

​”And how do I even get to City Hall?” William asks, hiding a smirk as he adjusts his grip on the package.

​Trojjan sighs, gesturing vaguely toward the door. ”Whichever street you take, City Hall’s the biggest building in the city. No matter which path you take, you somehow end up there. Just keep walking straight toward the biggest building in the sky.”

Taking the package under his arm, William steps out into the crisp air. He makes his way through the market, enjoying the sight of the city shaking off the winter freeze. The vendors are livelier, the crowds are moving a little faster, and melting ice drips steadily from the wooden eaves.

Following Trojjan’s advice, William keeps his eyes on the massive stone structure looming over the city skyline. Sure enough, every winding street seems to lead him toward it.

William slows, taking in the size of City Hall. For the past few months, he has seen its silhouette towering over every other building in the city, but he has never set foot inside. Up close, the grey stone walls shadow over him, blotting out much of the sky.

As William pushes open the heavy doors, he stops dead in his tracks. A vast floor of polished white stone stretches before him. He has never seen anything like it. The stone is so white and spotless that he hesitates before stepping onto it, half afraid his boots might dirty it. Behind him, the heavy doors swing shut, and the bustle of the street fades into the echoing silence of the hall.

​“Marble, kid.” A voice pulls William away from his thoughts. “The stone’s called marble.”