Days turned into weeks as Viktor worked under the watchful eyes of Hoff's villagers. They watched as the young boy who had caused so much chaos transformed into a responsible young man who took ownership of his actions and worked hard to rectify them.
Gradually, as they saw Viktor put in effort and time in rebuilding the damaged house, some villagers started offering help - handing him nails, boards, a cup of cool water on a particularly sweltering day. It was a grudging respect they were beginning to foster; the boy was not just wallowing in guilt but putting it into action.
The sun would set and rise, illuminating Viktor's silhouette against the wreckage-turned-construction site. Sweat clung to his brow and dirt smeared his palms as he hammered home another nail. Wielding a saw instead of a wand, he was slowly blurring the line between man and sorcerer. He was one of them now - not an outsider with inexplicable power anymore.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of oranges and purples, Viktor was joined by Rose. She walked out to him carrying two cups of warm broth.
"Thought you could use something hot," she said, offering him one cup.
Viktor wiped his brow before accepting the cup gratefully. He took a small sip, welcoming the heat that spread through his body.
"Thanks, Rose," he replied, his voice reflecting his exhaustion.
She watched him for a moment before sitting beside him on an upturned crate. They sat in silence for a while, watching the stars twinkle to life above them.
"You know," she began hesitantly after some time, "I think people are starting to see that you're really trying... Eric has noticed too."
Viktor looked over at her and gave her a ghost of a smile. "I hope so."
Weeks passed by in this manner until one day the house stood complete - sturdy and even more beautiful than before.
In their home Viktor slept peacefully in his room upstairs while Eric and Rose had been discussing matters at their table.
"Rose, dear. We can't keep him." Eric let out.
Rose held her head in frustration. "It's been months Eric! He makes one mistake and all of a sudden you want to kick him out? From what we understand his birthday hasn't even passed yet." She pleaded, however it seemed her husband had plans of his own.
"Do you know how old those roots were? How strong they were? Hundreds of years people have tried to cut that oak, my father, his father before him and so on. Even mages have tried to remove it, but nothing. And all of a sudden a child blows it to smithereens." He exclaimed.
Rose sat silent for a moment, absorbing his words. After a long silence, she responded, "Viktor is not ordinary, Eric. We knew that when we took him in."
"That's my point, Rose! 'Not ordinary' is dangerous. Especially when he doesn't know how to control it!" Eric's voice rose in volume, anger and frustration seeping into his tone.
"But he fixed it, Eric!" Rose shot back. "He spent weeks making amends for his actions."
"And what if next time it's not a tree? What if it's someone from the village...or us?" Eric spat.
There was a silence so heavy it felt suffocating. The ticking clock echoed through the house only to be drowned by the deafening silence.
"Eric." Rose's voice was barely audible. She met her husband's gaze, a plea in her eyes. "Viktor is just a boy, still learning about himself and his abilities."
"Exactly," Eric replied. He exhaled deeply and his shoulders sagged with the weight of his decision. "I don't want him or anyone else to get hurt because we couldn't take the right step at the right time."
"So what now? You just send him away?" Rose asked, her voice full of disbelief.
"We find him help...proper guidance," Eric replied firmly yet gently. "He needs someone who can mentor him, help him control his powers."
Rose shook her head at his words. "You're trying to get your way. Do you know how far we are from the capital? From any prominent town, or school, or Hell shop? No one comes to Hoff, especially no mage that can handle that kid."
"Then we can find him one! We can search and send out letters, or something!"
Rose's face was now twisted with visible anger. "With what money? The scraps of silver you make from being an adventurer? Or the fifteen cooper I make from baking?"
Eric's face flushed with frustration. "We'll figure it out, Rose!" he bit back at her. "There must be something, someone, who can help him."
"And what about the family that's helped him these past few months? What about us, Eric?" Rose's eyes were flooded with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "We've become his family, and you're just going to rip that away?"
A heavy silence fell over the room as they both stewed in their own thoughts. After a moment, Eric slumped in his chair, all fight draining out of him.
"I...I don't know what to do," he admitted in a broken whisper. "I'm just... scared."
"We're all scared," Rose responded softly. "But that doesn't mean we turn our backs on him. We knew what we were getting into when we took him in."
"But I never imagined it would be like this." Eric's voice was forlorn.
"None of us did," Rose conceded. "But turning our backs on him now won't make it any easier."
Silently, they sat, their thoughts whirling like a tempest.
Upstairs, Viktor lay awake on his bed, having heard the entire conversation. A wrenching pain gripped his heart as he realized how much trouble he had caused this family who had given him so much. The weight of his powers felt heavier than ever before.
He slipped out from beneath his covers and tiptoed to the window, peering out at the moonlit scenery outside. Using his telekinesis he gracefully slipped himself up into the air outside. The village of Hoff seemed peaceful under the soft glow of the moonlight, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within him. He hovered for a moment, staring down at the glowing lights of the homes below. It was a sight he had grown fond of over the past few months.
Silently, Viktor soared over the rooftops, flying through the cool night air. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way towards the edge of town. His destination - the newly rebuilt house that stood proud amid the lush meadow, a symbol of his redemption to the villagers and himself.
As Viktor landed near the entrance, he looked upon it one last time. It wasn't just a house now; it was a testament to his remorse, his dedication, and his newfound maturity. Yet, it also stood as an emblem of the trouble he had caused and the danger he represented.
With a sigh, he summoned his magic one last time and delicately removed a small portion of the wood from the doorframe. Holding it in his palm, Viktor felt an overwhelming sense of both sadness and determination pulsating through him. This piece of wood symbolized more than just a physical part of the house; it held a piece of Viktor's life in Hoff – one that was about to end.
Taking one long look at his home, tears welled up in his eyes but he quickly wiped them away. With newfound resolve, he flew away into the night sky. The stillness around him was disrupted only by the flapping sound of his cloak against the wind.
Back at home, Rose found herself unable to sleep. She quietly moved out onto their porch, leaning on its wooden railings with tired eyes scanning their quiet village. For a moment she thought she saw a streak of light dart across the sky. As she focused her gaze, her heart constricted in fear: hovering high in the sky was a familiar figure, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. It was Viktor, flying away into the night.
"Eric!" she called out, her voice trembling as panic gripped her. Eric, hearing the distress in his wife's voice, quickly joined her on the porch.
"What is it?" he asked urgently, following Rose's gaze to the distant figure in the sky. His face paled as realization dawned on him. "No... He heard us."
Rose felt a sharp pain in her chest as she watched Viktor growing smaller in the distance. She turned to Eric, tears welling in her eyes. "What have we done?"
Eric could only offer her a helpless look as he too watched their ward, their family, fade away into the darkened sky. For once, he had no reassuring words or solutions.
In the cool embrace of darkness, Viktor flew over fields and forests alike, fueled by a mix of fear and determination. The crisp air whistled past him as he streaked through the sky like a shooting star.
His mind raced with what he had overheard and what lay ahead. He thought of Eric and Rose, their heated conversation echoing painfully in his mind. Yet beneath all that was disbelief; disbelief at his own actions that had led to this moment.
Viktor knew he couldn't return home now - not anymore - but where would he go? Would anybody else accept him? Would they fear him just as much? His thoughts went to all those grand stories Emeline had told him when he was just a small child, well smaller.
Was it wise for him to try his luck back at the castle? Or perhaps find another village and live there-just to destroy that too? Or perhaps a school. He thought to himself, that was surely a place he could let his magic flourish.
Yet sucking him out his thoughts was a peculiar crow that simply hovered right beside him. It cawed at him, its black beady eyes reflecting on his pale blue ones. It cawed again, this time it's head pointing down.
Curious he decided to follow it's gaze. And there before him leaning against a tree stood Father Oren. Viktor promptly landed beside him.
Father Oren, despite his elderly age, stood tall in the moonlight, his robe billowing gently in the soft breeze. His hands clasped a simple wooden staff, its tip glowing with an ethereal blue light that illuminated the surroundings.
"Viktor," he greeted softly without turning his gaze away from the distant valley. "I suppose you really did intend to leave us."
Viktor was momentarily lost for words. He had always admired Father Oren, a man of wisdom and peace who served as the village priest, but never imagined he would be there in this crucial moment of his life.
"I... I thought it was best," he finally stammered out. The weight of his decision pressed heavily on him now more than ever before.
Father Oren turned towards Viktor then, his eyes filled with warmth despite the palpable sadness they held. "Running away from one's problems is never the solution," he said gently. "And believe me when I say that you have nothing to run from."
"But Father..." Viktor began to protest but was cut off by Father Oren raising a hand.
"Silence, boy," the old priest commanded, though his voice held no malice. "Listen to what I have to say." He gestured to the crow that had led Viktor here - it was perched peacefully on a nearby branch now. "This crow has been following you since you left Hoff. It is no ordinary bird; it is a messenger."
"A messenger?" Viktor echoed incredulously.
Father Oren nodded solemnly. "Yes. It is said that crows carry the messages and blessings of higher beings." He turned his gaze towards the crow, his features softening under the gentle moonlight. "Perhaps it brought you here for a reason."
Viktor regarded the bird, his heart pounding in his chest. The crow cawed once more, its eyes never leaving Viktor's.
"Higher beings?" Viktor repeated, unsure of what to make of this revelation. He gazed at Father Oren, his expression a mix of confusion and apprehension.
"Yes," Father Oren affirmed gently. "When one feels lost and alone, they often look to the heavens for guidance. In your case, Viktor, you need to look within yourself."
Viktor fell silent at the priest's words, pondering on their implications. If Father Oren was correct and he did indeed have 'higher beings' looking out for him, then perhaps he wasn't as alone as he thought.
Father Oren placed his hand on Viktor's shoulder comfortingly. "Do not be afraid of your power," he said softly. "Embrace them. They are part of you and they make you who you are."
"But what if I hurt someone?" Viktor asked, his voice trembling with fear.
"You won't," Father Oren assured him with a comforting smile. "As long as you are careful and mindful of your actions, you will not harm anyone."
Viktor nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he felt a wave of calm wash over him. His hands glowed softly in the darkened night as he prepared to take flight again.
"Wait." Viktor let out turning to the old man. "Are you a mage?" He asked, he had been flying for nearly thirty minutes at quite the pace how had Father Oren caught up to him. That was what was on his mind.
The old man simply smiled as he shook his head. "No, not a mage. Just an impressive beast tamer." He chuckled as he pointed to the Crow.
Viktor looked at the crow, a new understanding dawning on him. He studied the bird closely, its rich black plumage gleaming in the moonlight. It was no ordinary crow; that much was clear now. It was a familiar—a magical creature bonded to a human—much like how he had connected with his own powers.
"Beast tamer..." Viktor muttered under his breath. He turned to Father Oren, eyes wide with awe, "So, you sent the crow after me?"
Father Oren nodded, folding his hands over his staff. "I did," he confessed. "After hearing about your conversation with Eric and Rose, I thought it best to follow you."
Viktor felt a surge of gratitude towards Father Oren. He had saved him from making a rash decision in the heat of the moment.
"Thank you, Father," he said sincerely. "I—I was scared and angry…I didn't know what to do."
Father Oren patted Viktor's shoulder encouragingly. "Fear and anger are powerful emotions," he said gently, "but they can also lead us astray if we let them rule our actions."
He pointed towards the distant village lights twinkling in the valley below. "You have friends there…family," he added softly, his eyes clouded with age yet sharp with wisdom. "They care about you more than you know."
Viktor swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. He knew Father Oren was right; leaving everyone behind would only cause more pain—and not just for him.
"Will they forgive me?" Viktor asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.
Father Oren turned to him, his face softened by the luminescence of the staff. "That is not for me to decide," he said quietly. "But I believe in the goodness of their hearts. Just as they have accepted your powers, they will accept your mistakes."
Viktor felt a lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He had been so consumed by his fear and guilt that he hadn't thought about what leaving would do to Eric, Rose and the others.
"But I hurt them..." Viktor murmured, thinking about the havoc his magic had caused. "I can't control it... I-I am dangerous."
Father Oren shook his head firmly, meeting Viktor's gaze head-on. "No, Viktor," he corrected seriously, "Your magic is not dangerous. It is wild, untamed and needs guidance. But it does not make you a monster. Remember that."
Viktor watched as Father Oren gestured to the crow, who obediently fluttered over to perch on his shoulder. "This crow was once wild too," he explained gently. "It took time and patience to understand it, to guide it...much like your magic."
Viktor nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him.
"Will you guide me?" he asked hesitantly. A glimmer of hope sparked within him at the thought of learning how to control his powers under Father Oren's wise tutelage.
Father Oren smiled warmly at him, the lines on his face deepening with the gesture. "Of course," he replied. "I would be honored."
Relief washed over Viktor, only for a moment however.
"But I am no mage, nor am I a scholar of your talent. I've seen and heard you, whoever your previous masters were have taught you the knowledge of hundreds of men." Oren finished. "But I will do my best to bring a mage to this town. A mage who can guide you."