The magical journey of a countryside boy

“​Lad, we aren’t making any stops unless it’s necessary. I plan to pass the next town before dusk,” Trojjan says, steering the wagon toward the city exit.

​William nods in understanding and turns to take one final look back at Bruges. The grand city that had filled him with a rising sense of awe upon arrival now feels surprisingly mundane.

​

‘Well, I don’t think such sights can ever surprise me again’, William thinks, leaning back against the wooden frame.

​He closes his eyes, letting his mind wander back through the chaotic blur of everything that happened to him in Bruges—until a sudden realization cuts straight through his memories.

​’My apples!!’

The journey back to Arindale proves surprisingly uneventful. True to his word, Trojjan makes only a single brief stop when one of the wagon wheels begins to rattle—and after a quick fix, they are back on the road.

​Because of their relentless pace, a trip that usually takes five days comes to an end on the fourth. As dusk settles on that fourth day, William catches sight of Arindale’s familiar city gates.

​Navigating through the evening entry queue takes time, and by the time William finally steps inside the apothecary shop, the night sky is blanketed in countless tiny stars anchored by a glowing full moon.

​Exhausted to his core after such a grueling trek, William barely has the strength to keep his eyes open. The moment he sinks onto his mattress, he instantly drifts into sleep.

Shortly after William wakes up the next morning, a sharp knock echoes from the apothecary front entrance.

​It is quickly followed by the heavy thud of Trojjan’s footsteps echoing down the stairs. William rubs his eyes and opens the door while yawning, only to spot a young man standing on the threshold, clutching something golden in his hand.

​“We haven’t opened yet,” Trojjan says in a gruff voice, a clear trace of annoyance lacing his tone. “If it’s not an emergency, come back in two hours.”

​The young man at the door simply smiles. “Oh, I believe it is an emergency. After all—” ​His eyes shift downward, locking onto William. “You wouldn’t want to be late for the academy, would you, William?”

These words send a cold shiver down both William’s and Trojjan’s spines, instantly dispelling any remaining trace of sleepiness.

​Before either of them can process what is happening, the young man continues smoothly, “Meet me at the east gate in two hours.”

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​He turns and vanishes down the street before William or Trojjan can say a word.

​“We should pack your stuff, kid,” Trojjan says, recovering his composure first.

​William nods. Unsurprisingly, his belongings don’t amount to much: four sets of clothes, two pairs of sandals, and a small parcel of food.

​Once his bag is packed, William heads out to the stable to visit Betty—likely for the very last time.

​He steps inside the quiet stable to find her munching on the fresh grass Trojjan brought home last night. Sensing his presence, Betty turns her head toward him, her dark eyes shining with bright intelligence.

​William walks up to the stall and rests a hand against the wooden partition. “Betty... I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I promise I’ll come visit you—”

​Before he can finish, Betty leans over and licks him straight across the face. She lets out a soft neigh at his shocked expression, and William breaks into a warm smile, reaching up to stroke her thick mane.

​Neither makes a sound, but in the quiet morning air, the unspoken affection between them is completely understood.

Their moment is interrupted by the sound of a forced cough. William turns to see Trojjan standing at the stable entrance with a slightly embarrassed look on his face.

​“Lad... this is from me,” Trojjan says, stepping forward and passing a small, leather-bound book to William. “It contains most of my experience as an apothecary. I don’t know how much use it’ll be to you now, but I hope it helps.”

​Tears suddenly start pooling in William’s eyes as memories of past years in Arindale come to his mind. He takes a deep breath to steady his voice and accepts the book.

​“I’m... really grateful for everything you’ve done for me,” William stammers. “For giving me a job, teaching me how to read and write, showing me how to make medicines, and—”

​A warm, heavy hand pats his shoulder, cutting him off. William looks up to see Trojjan smiling down at him, his own eyes gleaming wet in the morning light.

​“Take care of yourself, alright?” Trojjan says softly.

William walks down the street to meet one last person in the city. As he draws closer, the familiar, rhythmic clang of iron beating against iron reaches his ears.

​Stepping into the forge, he finds John hammering away at a glowing piece of metal with the exact same fervor as six years ago, when a younger William had first come to ask him about magic.

​Noticing William standing near the entrance, John sets his hammer down, grabs a rag, and wipes the sweat from his forehead. “So, how was your trip to Bruges?”

​When William doesn’t immediately answer, John turns to take a closer look, catching the hesitant expression on the boy’s face. “Did something happen, kid?” John asks, his voice growing grave.

​William shakes his head. “I’ll... be leaving the city for a while. And I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

​A serious shadow passes over John’s face as he leans in, asking in a hushed tone, “Is it about magic?”

​William nods.

​John stares up at the rafters for a long moment before looking back at William, who is staring fixedly at the dirt floor. Rubbing the back of his neck, John lets out a light chuckle. “And here I thought I was going to be the one surprising you today.”

​William looks up, asking for an explanation with a quiet glance.

​“Well, Cecily and I are getting married,” John says, scratching his chin.

​William’s eyes widen as sudden clarity dawns on him. ’So that’s why she kept visiting the forge every day even after winter ended... Well, good for him. He’ll finally have a full house.’

​“When are you getting married?” William asks.

​“We haven’t set a date yet, but definitely before winter,” John replies.

​William nods, finding his voice again. “Well... I came to thank you. For bringing me to the city every year, for not shooting down my belief in magic when I first brought it up, and for convincing Auntie so I could stay here. I’m really really thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”

John stands silently with a broad, gentle smile. Reaching toward his workbench, he picks up a small, sheathed dagger and presses it into William’s hand, folding the boy’s fingers securely around the hilt.

​Meeting William’s eyes, John smiles warmth into his voice. “Go on then,start your journey, William.”