"What do you see?"
Benard blurted, his gaze fixed on the boy before him.
He had a hunch about this child, a feeling that he was special.
The boy stared back, then quickly averted his eyes, as if overcome with fear.
"Energy... scary..." he whispered.
Benard's eyes widened. This response was different from any he'd heard before.
Those who couldn't see the energy usually described it with awe, fascination, or even excitement.
But this boy... he saw it as something to be feared.
What had he witnessed that instilled such dread?
He leaned closer and his voice softened.
"What's your name, young man?"
"Julian," the boy mumbled.
"Julian," Saint repeated, committing the name to memory.
He had a feeling this was just the beginning of a very interesting acquaintance.
"Tell me, Julian, what is it about the energy that scares you?"
Julian hesitated but his small hands clenched into fists.
He glanced up at Benard with a look of fear.
"It's... it's chaotic. Unstable. Like it could explode at any moment."
"Really?"
Benard was overjoyed. This was no ordinary child. Of all the children who had seen Benard's energy, none had reacted like Julian.
Especially after all these years, those children, now adults, could no longer sense 'that' energy.
He knew at that moment that Julian was different.
The other children he had visited had become this era's greatest mages, but Julian was one of a kind.
Benard labeled Julian as UNIQUE.
Ehem...
A sudden cough interrupted Benard's train of thought.
He blinked momentarily and turned to find the driver still shaking nervously beside him.
"Ahem, sir," the driver interrupted, "if I may be so bold... do you perhaps know anyone in this village who could, well, assist with the repairs?"
Benard glanced at the mangled carriage, then back at the driver.
"I'm afraid I don't," he admitted. "I'm not sure the people I know are even around."
Although he was out of options, he had another idea.
"Perhaps one of you" he turned to Julian and his companions, "—might know someone who could lend a hand?"
Julian, who had been observing the exchange quietly, nodded. "Those two are new to the village," he pointed towards Ezekiel and Nivel.
"But I know someone who might be able to help."
Without another word, he turned and sprinted back towards the village, taking a right turn to a nearby shop.
What an interesting child, he thought. I wonder what other surprises he has in store.
A short while later, Julian reappeared, accompanied by a dwarf with a thick beard and a sturdy build.
The dwarf, without a word, began inspecting the damaged carriage, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Hmm," he grunted, shaking his head. "This is worse than I thought. The axle's snapped aye, but the impact also damaged the undercarriage. The frame's cracked, and the suspension's sprung. It'll take more than just a new axle to get this thing moving again."
Benard exchanged a worried glance with the driver. This was not good news.
"How long will the repairs take?"
The dwarf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "With the right materials and a bit of luck... two, maybe three days."
Benard's heart sank. Two or three days? They couldn't afford to be delayed for so long. He had urgent business in the capital.
"For an average carriage repairer, perhaps," a gruff voice interjected.
Benard turned to find the dwarf, Merten, regarding him with a steady gaze.
Something in the dwarf's tone caught his attention. It wasn't arrogance, but a quiet confidence that spoke levels to his skill.
"I don't repair carriages often," Merten continued, "but I'd like to see what I can do. This isn't your average contraption, mind you. The craftsmanship is... fascinating."
"You think you can fix it faster?" Benard asked curiously.
Merten shrugged. "Can't say for sure until I take a closer look. But I'm not one to back down from a challenge." He turned towards Julian.
"Lad, a little help here. Run back to the shop and fetch my toolkit. And bring the reinforced braces from under the workbench, along with the coil of steel wire. You know where to find them."
"Okay,"
DASHHHH!
Julian shot off like an arrow from a bow.
Benard watched in surprise as the boy's small form zipped through the crowd, weaving between startled villagers with amazing agility.
Within a minute, he was back with the requested items clutched firmly in his hands.
"Here,"
"Impressive," Benard murmured to himself.
He couldn't help but be impressed by the boy's speed and strength.
Is that even normal at his age?
"You've got a good eye for talent, lad," Merten said to Julian, "I know you've watched your mother help me with some of her furniture repairs. Think you can apply those skills to a slightly larger project?"
Julian looked at Merten with a massive frown creasing his brow.
He clearly wasn't thrilled about the prospect of manual labour, but he nodded nonetheless.
"Alright," he agreed, "What do you need me to do?"