After the bathhouse incident, Elyas was officially the talk of Greystone—and not in a good way. Everywhere he went, there were whispers, sideways glances, and the occasional stifled giggle from children who had heard exaggerated versions of his misadventures. If it wasn't the accidental teleportation to the men's bathhouse, it was the time he turned the town's fountain into a geyser during a "simple" water-bending exercise. The villagers weren't cruel, but they did watch him like a living catastrophe just waiting to happen.
The local blacksmith, Old Man Tanner, would give him a wide berth whenever Elyas passed by.
Tanner (grumbling): "Last time you sneezed near my forge, boy, half my tools tried to run away."
The village baker, Maud, had a new habit of ducking behind her counter every time Elyas entered her shop.
Maud: "I swear, if one more loaf of bread sprouts wings and flies out of here, I'm charging you double!"
Even the village cats had become wary. One of them, Rufus, hadn't quite recovered from his brief stint as a teapot, and every time Elyas approached, the cat hissed like it was confronting its mortal enemy. In short, Elyas was a walking, talking, magical cautionary tale.
His parents, Thom and Elira, knew it was time for a change.
One evening, as Elyas was staring into his soup—an innocent meal that, for once, hadn't spontaneously turned into something else—his father broached the subject with the kind of delicate tone usually reserved for telling someone their house had burned down.
Thom (clearing his throat): "Elyas, lad, your mother and I have been thinking…"
Elyas glanced up from his soup, suspicious. When his father started a sentence like that, it usually meant something bad. The last time Thom had "been thinking," Elyas had been enrolled in an archery class to improve his "focus." He still had the scars from the quiver that had somehow turned into a swarm of angry bees.
Thom (cautiously): "Maybe a new place would be… good for you."
Elyas blinked. A new place? He glanced at his mother, who was nodding encouragingly.
Elira: "You know, someplace where you can practice your magic without… distractions."
Thom: "Or turning the neighbors' chickens into lawn ornaments."
Elyas (defensive): "That was one time!"
Thom raised an eyebrow.
Elyas (grumbling): "Okay, two times."
The truth was, Elyas didn't want to leave Greystone. Sure, things were complicated, and yes, he had accidentally turned Mrs. Wilkins' prized roses into screaming sentient bushes last spring, but it was home. And he wasn't ready to face a whole new village full of people who would inevitably laugh at him when his magic went wrong—which it always did.
Elira (gently): "There's a magic academy in the city of Faldore. They can teach you properly, Elyas. You won't have to figure things out on your own anymore."
Elyas's spoon clattered into his bowl. An academy? That sounded… serious. Like, actual professional wizards would be watching him. He had visions of a stern headmaster with a long beard and robes, shaking his head disapprovingly as Elyas turned a classroom into a jungle by mistake. But then again, staying in Greystone wasn't exactly ideal either. He couldn't keep dodging his own accidents forever, and he was running out of friends whose houses hadn't been affected by his magical blunders.
Elyas (hesitant): "A-are you sure about this?"
Thom (nodding): "Positive. It'll be good for you, son. New faces, new spells, fewer broken dishes."
Elira smiled warmly.
Elira: "You'll love it, Elyas. It's a big city, lots of opportunities. And besides, think of all the new things you'll learn! You could even come home for visits when you're… uh, ready."
Elyas couldn't ignore the hope in his parents' eyes. They weren't pushing him away—they were giving him a chance. He didn't want to admit it, but part of him was excited. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. A fresh start. He could picture it now: striding through the halls of the academy, his robes billowing dramatically behind him, effortlessly casting spells without turning anyone into a kitchen appliance.
Elyas (finally): "Okay… I'll go."
His parents exchanged relieved smiles. His mother immediately started rattling off preparations, talking about packing his things and arranging for a carriage to take him to Faldore. Thom, however, gave Elyas a firm pat on the back that nearly knocked him into his soup.
Thom (grinning): "Atta boy. You'll do fine. Just… try not to blow up the carriage, eh?"
The Departure Disaster
The day of Elyas's departure came all too quickly. His mother had packed enough clothes and provisions to survive a month in the wilderness, despite Elyas reminding her that he was going to a city with stores. His father had given him a rather clunky good-luck charm shaped like a boot, insisting it would "keep his feet on the ground," though Elyas wasn't entirely sure that was the kind of magic he needed.
As Elyas stood at the edge of the village, his parents fussing over him one last time, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and dread. What if the academy was filled with serious students who would all laugh at his constant blunders? What if he accidentally turned one of his professors into a chicken? Or worse, a chicken into a professor?
Thom (rubbing his hands): "Remember, Elyas, confidence is key. Just walk in there like you know what you're doing."
Elyas (nervously): "But I don't know what I'm doing."
Thom: "Fake it. That's what I did when I started courting your mother."
Elira swatted Thom playfully.
Elira: "You'll be fine, Elyas. Just don't overthink everything. Trust yourself a little more."
The carriage pulled up, and Elyas felt a lump form in his throat. This was it—the moment of truth. He gave his parents one last hug and climbed into the carriage, feeling both thrilled and terrified at the same time.
As the carriage started rolling down the road, Elyas waved goodbye to his parents. His mother waved back tearfully, while his father gave a thumbs-up like Elyas was off to fight a dragon. Elyas couldn't help but smile. Maybe this really would be a new beginning. Maybe—
Suddenly, there was a loud creaking noise, followed by a snap. The carriage jolted violently, and before Elyas could even react, the entire back half of the carriage collapsed, sending him tumbling out into the dirt with a thud.
The driver turned around, looking utterly horrified.
Driver (panicked): "The axle's snapped! We're not going anywhere!"
Elyas groaned, spitting out a mouthful of dust. So much for a graceful exit. As he sat there, sprawled out in the middle of the road with his luggage scattered around him, he could hear the distant sound of his father's booming laugh echoing across the village.
Thom (yelling from afar): "Looks like you'll need a new new start, eh?"
Elyas buried his face in his hands. This was going to be a long journey.