A year has passed since the first and last conversation with his parents about the neighboring village. Greg still couldn't fully control the air, let alone manipulate the water in a way that wouldn't wipe out him or the wet cornfield. Since he came to control virtually three elements, Greg has dedicated himself to learning more about the Hyorvan culture. He wanted to learn more about the geography, math, science and history of this very different world.
Hyorvan's world was basically made up of two great continents. Vigiland was the biggest of them all and also the most occupied by human beings. Some magical creatures can also be found in it, even if in small amounts due to overhunting to create potions, armor and weapons or just for sport hunting and animal suffering. Races such as dragons and phoenixes had not been seen by human eyes for centuries. The other continent was Segular, composed mainly of irrational magical beings, that is, wild animals. But to humans, it was best known for being the home of demons, possessing small horns and red skin and human-like appearance that dominated that continent. Demons and humans have been at war since they met and are still going on.
Greg noted that the technological sciences have not advanced, rather have stagnated to a point where they are not looking for improvement. There were no showers or sinks, not even stoves, everything was done in the most medieval way possible. Society was built around magic, not social advancement. The son of a baron with high magical control will certainly study at the most prestigious of magic academies, the Wosgwats Academy, while the child of a peasant with low magical control will not be accepted, as his father or mother has such low magical power, it is to be expected that the child will have it too.
The nobles controlled Vigiland, that was a fact. As many royal families did, nobles married their own relatives, whether they were aunts, nieces, brothers or sisters, all to maintain noble status and magical power. And like many kings and queens, princes and princesses, they all came with birth problems. The difference was that, in this world, the problems were about mana and not exactly a physical trait.
Earlier that year, just after he turned six, his parents decided to let the boy read as many books as he needed. Greg realized that what really interested him were magical creatures. He imagined what an encounter between a human and a dragon would be like, such an incredible and beautiful mythological creature. Would it be possible to create a connection between these two creatures as distinct as a human being and a dog? Just imagining it, Greg was excited by the endless possibilities.
When he wasn't reading or practicing his magical control, Greg would sneak through the woods beside his house and meet with the village. He always watched the children playing and the adults working. For some reason, that soothed him. Maybe the fact that he could see people other than his parents soothed him. He didn't exactly know.
He was no more than thirty minutes away from home, not wanting to worry his parents, and then he returned from the forest to the garden where he always practiced. His father was training Ignis once more and his mother was washing the dirty clothes with the water they brought down from the river. Greg decided to continue reading indoors, the sun was setting and he didn't want to try to read a book in the middle of the night. The boy went into the living room with a candle in his hand, sat down on the wooden floor, opened the pages of the book in his other hand, and began to read it again.
It was fascinating how earth and Hyorvan are so different and yet so similar. Social inequality, biases, incessant wars in the name of a greater good and its political interests. Still, they weren't the same world. Greg decided to finish reading the next day and go to bed, sleeping like that.
The next day, Greg woke up earlier than the only two adults in the house and headed for the village, passing through the forest again. He was walking quickly when he heard a great scream coming from the forest, stopping instinctively. It was a child, a girl. Maybe a boy. He couldn't understand. Greg rounded the marked path he had taken to find his location and ran into the dark forest. Every tree the boy passed he marked with a small, weak Ignis. The scream could be heard again and he started to follow. Again a scream. This time, he was sure it was a female scream. He was already close, the scream was practically close to his ear. He stopped trying to find whoever was there when he saw something move on the muddy ground. It really was a girl.
He watched her flaming hair, an extremely strong orange and red color, moving continuously. The girl was sprawled on the floor, her pale skin smeared with dirt. Greg could see some superficial wounds on the girl's skin, as if she had been attacked, not by an animal, but by someone. Greg approached the fallen girl and checked her breathing. She was alive. It couldn't be more than a year away from the boy. Her clothes were not rags, much less simple. She was definitely not a slave, but neither was she someone from the village. The white, red and black striped jacket with gold accents probably cost more than Greg's house. Her white pants were a little ripped and she had lost one of her shoes.
Greg moved even closer to the passed out girl, now checking the wounds that covered her back to her legs, some even on her arms. They were clear wounds from some melee weapon. A knife perhaps? Greg wasn't sure. From the wounds on her arms, she definitely tried to defend herself. After a few seconds, the boy decided to take the girl home. Not that he had any other option, if she stayed in this place in the state she was in, she would die. Greg looked around and tried to sense some recent use of magic in that place, his eyes turning blue almost as if a blue flame was coming out of his pupils. He didn't feel anything.
Greg held the girl in both arms, like a prince carrying his beautiful lady. He thought to himself that she was heavier than she looked. The boy stopped and began to follow the path marked in the trees, quickly heading back into the woods. The girl started to move and moan in pain. He began to slow down in the wind, trying to keep her from feeling any more pain.
Upon arriving at his house, Greg realized that his parents were desperately looking for him. He wasn't just out of the house for thirty minutes, but an extra two hours. The despair disappeared when they noticed the girl being carried by their son. Arthur quickly snatched her from his son's arms as Renoelle hurried to open the house door as quickly as possible. They could be outcasts, but they still cared about other people.
A few hours later, while reading another of his books, Greg saw his mother and father leaving his room.
"She'll be fine." The man's voice came out as a relief.
"Where were you, son? Where did you find this girl?" His mother asked.
"I just wanted to take a walk in the forest. Only that. But I heard some screams and went into the forest and then found her. I couldn't just leave her there to die, Mom. "
"I know you care about people and want to discover the world, but you know the dark forest is infested with wild animals and bandits. What if any of them had hurt you? What if, at worst, you had died? "
"I didn't die. And there was no animal where I passed. Much less bad guys. "
Just as his mother was about to refute his line, they heard a crash outside. And then one more and several more. The house shook and dust and pieces of wood fell to the floor. Arthur ran towards his room, pulling a sword that adorned the wall in front of his door. He went to the living room window and was faced with a shocking scene. A dozen men were in front of his house. Each wielded a different weapon, from a crossbow to swords and knives. There was even a man with a staff in his hand, a staff too expensive for someone like him to legally possess. They were bandits. The men followed little Greg all the way he came.
He wondered how he didn't feel the magical power of those bad guys? The answer was simple, the staff in the hands of one of them. Magic items can be used for many things, one of them was to inhibit the presence of magic in certain places.
Renoelle gave the boy a kiss and locked him in the room with the girl. All Greg could hear was her hurried footsteps in the narrow hallway.
He looked through the newly placed glass windows in his room as his father walked out the front door. He seemed to be trying to rationalize with the thieves, sword still in his right hand but lowered.
"You have something that belongs to us, buddy. We saw your brat bringing our girl here. Just hand it over and you can live your life in peace, as if nothing ever happened. " The tallest of the thugs spoke. He was bearded and bald, dressed in black pants and a shirtless jacket, showing his defined muscles, he was the leader.
"What exactly is she for you?"
"Nothing that interests you, my friend. Now deliver the girl."
"And would I consider myself a man if I turned in a helpless girl like that?" Arthur yelled, raising his left hand and firing a flurry of fireballs at the heavily armed men. Crops burned and so did grass. The man who had spoken earlier walked past the high flames that filled the garden.
"Now you are going to die, buddy." He smiled. He raised his arms, holding a sword as big as his own arm. He wore a giant smile on his face, as did his allies. Arthur would not be able to dodge, he would die in that moment. Renoelle jumped in front of her husband, she wouldn't let him die.
"Dieeeee!" The man screamed and when the sword was about to hit each of them in the head... A small cutting sound could be heard. The man remained standing, his sword inches from their heads. Arthur and Renoelle were crouched down and hugging each other with their eyes closed. They gradually opened their eyeballs to see the man above them without his head. The body soon dropped to its knees and fell to their side. The brute's head was on the opposite side from which the body extended. Everyone was surprised, no one could move.
Right behind the corpse was the face of the person who saved them. Their son, Gregorios, covered in blood. He turned to face each of the thugs tormented behind the fire.
"Who is next?"