I sighed. “Gary tells it better. Certainly with more… flair. He calls it the ‘Ballad of Sam, Gary, and Tiggy.’ There’s singing involved. And rhyming. Possibly a choreographed dance, depending on his mood. It’s really quite the production. And now that I think about it, that’s probably why there are thirty different versions of the story. He tends to change things up upon repeat performances. Doesn’t want to let down his fans.” Gods, I loved that fucking unicorn.
“I’d ra
ther hear the Sam version,” Ryan said and I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked over at him and found him watching me, head turned back at an almost awkward angle. The firelight danced across his face and I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful. My magic felt so settled in my skin that I thought that I could do anything.
So I said, “Okay. Okay. There was once a strange and somewhat lonely boy….”
THERE WAS once a strange and somewhat lonely boy. He had wished upon the stars above and found them listening because one day, a man came to the slums and took him away to a castle. His parents came too, and they were amazed and awed at what life would be like for them.
And he worked. The strange and somewhat lonely boy worked as hard as he could, because Morgan expected great things from him. The boy wanted nothing more than to make Morgan happy and make his parents proud.
That left little time for anything else. Between schooling and magic and lessons in proper etiquette, the boy wasn’t able to make many friends. True, he didn’t have friends in the slums to begin with (because he was odd and mouthy and fiery and that combination made him an outcast), but he’d hoped things would be different.
There was a prince for whom he would one day serve, and while he was only a few years older, the Prince had little time for the peculiarity from the slums.
And the boy was okay with that. Mostly.
He was fourteen when the wizard Morgan of Shadows came to him with a great task.
He said, “You must go into the wilds of the Dark Woods and within three days bring back something unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” the boy asked with wide eyes. “Is this a test?”
And the great wizard said with a smile, “Yes, little one. It is a test. And I have great faith in you.”
That made the little boy feel warm and more than a little happy, because not many people had had faith in him. His parents, yes, but who else? He had no friends to miss him in the slums, no people to mourn his departure. But here! Here he had a man who was almost a legend telling him about faith, and the boy thought that if it were possible, he would bring the man the sun and the moon just to show how much his words meant.
It was also the first time he would be going out on his own. It showed that the wizard had trust in his apprentice, trust that he could perform the task set before him. Was he scared? Sure. He was fourteen years old. He was scrawny. His voice still tended to crack. He was confused why sometimes a handsome boy smiling meant something more than a pretty girl.
But he was more than his fears. He was an apprentice, and one day, he would be the King’s Wizard, and people would remember his name and they would be happy to see him, happy to be his friend.
And so the boy packed a bag, hugged his parents (who were only the tiniest bit teary, especially the father), and walked out of the castle, out of the City, and into the Dark Woods.
And promptly got lost.
He didn’t mean for it to happen.
One minute he was marching determinedly into the Dark Woods, and the next (after being distracted by this and that), he was in unfamiliar territory, unsure of where to go next. He knew magic, of course, but Morgan had warned him to use it sparingly so as to not attract unwanted attention. Especially if he was traveling by himself. He could protect himself, if it came down to it (which were among the first lessons Morgan had taught him: defensive spells and wards and counterattacks), but he often had trouble with the little things, like directions and staying on point. It wasn’t his fault, not completely. His brain worked a little differently and it was easier for him to become sidetracked. His mother said it was a quirk. His father said it was a talent. Morgan said it was an issue to be worked through.
But none of them were with him in the Dark Woods and he was, and now he was lost and still needed to find something unexpected.
There was a large spider with a web six feet across.
It was unexpected, sure. But it was also gross.
There was the skull of a large elk, sixteen points upon its head.
It was unexpected, definitely. But it had died in the forest it had lived in, and the boy knew that’s where it should stay.
There was a flower that blossomed only when touched by human hands.
It was unexpected, no doubt about it. But it smelled awful and caused the boy to sneeze.
That first night he huddled up against a tree. The canopy overhead was thick, but if he angled his head just right, he could see the stars.
Now, this boy had done his fair share of wishing upon these stars. Sometimes, the wishes came true. Most of the time, they did not. It never stopped him, though. Because the stars were always there, no matter where he was.
And so, like most nights, aside from that stretch of time when he first moved into the castle, he looked up at the sky and found the Fox and the Dragon and the Old Fish, friends that never left him, and on the outside of his vision, he saw the green of his magic. It was there, like the stars, his constant.