After tying my knapsack, filled with my books and a couple of snacks, to my back and strapping my wooden sword to my waist, I grasped my mother’s hand and followed my parents to meet their former party members. Although I’d heard about them from time to time from Father, I had never visited the house while they were helping rebuild it, so this would be my first time meeting them.

When we reached the inn at Ashber, we saw them out in front, near the stables. My father rushed to hug his ex-party members, then exclaimed, “Guys, I’d like you all to meet my son, Arthur. Go on, Art, say hello.”

Looking up at them as I gave a half-bow, I introduced myself using the most formal speech I thought I could get away with.

“Hello. My father has told me great things about his fellow Twin Horns members. Thank you for traveling with us to Xyrus. We’ll be in your hands.”

One of the men burst into laughter and said, “What is this? Such manners! Are you sure he’s your son, Rey?” From my father’s stories and his red hair, I recognized him as Adam Krensch, an augmenter whose main weapon was the spear.

Taking a closer look at him, he seemed like the energetic, talkative type. Fairly good-looking, he had bright red hair tied into a messy pouf, almost like a flame. His bangs escaped from the hair tie, and he looked like some sort of vagabond. His eyes were bright and seemed to be always laughing. The most noticeable thing about him, though, was the scar across his nose, reaching both cheeks.

As I studied him, I felt myself being lifted and held firmly against something soft while a woman’s voice said, “Awww… Isn’t he just so precious? You should be glad he doesn’t look like you, Reynolds.”

Pulling my face away from her breasts, in which she seemed to be trying to suffocate me, I took a good look at the woman. While not as pretty as my mother, she gave off a “royal princess” vibe, with long blond hair that came to a curl at the ends and round, radiant green eyes. She could only be Angela Rose, a conjurer whose specialty, according to my father, was wind magic.

She squeezed me tighter and, just as I began to squirm uncomfortably, a strong pair of hands grabbed me by the knapsack strapped to my back and whisked me away.

“Angela, you’re hurting him,” a deep voice grunted.

There I hung, like a kitten whose mother had him by the scruff of his neck, unable to move. My eyes remained fixed on the dark-eyed giant who held me suspended in midair. Then he carefully lowered me back onto the ground and tidied my clothes.

How genteel.

I imagined riding on his shoulders the whole way, as if he were a mighty steed. I looked up at him, my eyes getting bigger as I pondered.

Since he was the only other man in the party, I knew he had to be Durden Walker, a conjurer who specialized in earth magic. Standing well over six feet in height, he had very narrow eyes and eyebrows that slanted down, giving him an almost innocent face compared to his enormous body. A staff was strapped to his back, and the short, scruffy black hair on his head completed his shaggy dog image.

Dusting my clothes off, I turned from the giant to face the woman standing to his left. She looked slightly younger than everyone else. Her straight black hair was partially tied up with a ribbon, and her red, half-open eyes and pursed lips gave her an intense appearance.

“Mhm,” she said brusquely, then gave a slight nod and turned away. Clearly a woman of few words. How charming.

Watching as she walked away toward the stable, I spotted two short daggers strapped to her lower back, just above the hips. The weapons told me that she was Jasmine Flamesworth. My father had told me that her skill as an augmenter paled in comparison to the speed with which she wielded the dual daggers.

The last member of the Twin Horns was Helen Shard. She patted my head lightly and gave me a charming smile. Everything about Miss Helen was sharp: sharp eyes, perky pointed nose, thin red lips, and an angular frame. With her shoulder-length hair tied tightly back, she looked almost boyish. I couldn’t help but be charmed by the charisma the augmenter exuded; she had a ‘we can do anything if we believe’ attitude that seemed to seep from her pores and make her practically glow. Clothed in light leather armor with her bow and arrows strapped to her back, her appearance made me wonder briefly if she might be an elf, but I quickly abandoned that thought after seeing her rounded ears.

After we finished loading all our travel necessities into the two carriages we were taking, we were ready to strap in what I’d thought would be horses. But to my surprise, the stable hand brought out a pair of giant lizards, which were called skitters. Domesticated mana beasts used for transportation, with spikes across their backs and powerful claws, these D-class monsters were much more efficient, if more expensive, than horses for travelling mountain terrain.

When we were finally ready, I hopped up onto the second carriage, using a little mana to strengthen my legs. Lately I’d gotten the hang of using my mana to reinforce my body. I had yet to fully test what I was capable of, for fear of giving my parents heart attacks by showing off too much, but it was already becoming more natural for me to direct my mana from my core through my mana channels. I leaned up to look out the window as the skitters began pulling us along.

Let the journey begin!

______________________________________________

By nightfall, the once-distant mountain range seemed to have doubled in size, and I wondered how big the Grand Mountains would be when we reached the foothills. The excitement of being out of the tiny outpost of Ashber, my hometown, had not worn off yet. The thing I detested most about this body was how much sleep I required. Despite my desire to see the country as we traveled, I’d slept most of the way, and I still felt heavy-eyed though I’d only been awake for a few hours.

We eventually stopped to make camp near a small cluster of boulders. It was an ideal spot to shelter, with the rocks blocking nearly all the wind and plenty of fallen branches to use for the campfire. The adults set up a couple of tents around the fire, and my father and mother had begun conversing with the Twin Horns about old times when Helen sat down next to me.

She said nonchalantly, “I heard your pops say you’re some kind of genius mage. Is it true you’ve already awakened?”

Not knowing how to respond, I just replied with the truth. “Yes.”

She began questioning me, asking things like how I’d felt when I awakened and what color my mana core currently was. By this time, a couple of curious ears had perked up.

Adam asked, “Hey, Reynolds, do you mind if I test little Art?”

If anyone had asked me, I might’ve said something along the lines of, ‘Maybe mock-fighting with someone my age isn’t the best idea, since a normal three-year-old’s great accomplishments at this point would be going up and down stairs with alternating feet, walking in a circle, and perhaps, if he was really coordinated, balancing on one foot for several seconds,’ but apparently that sort of thing never occurred to anyone here.

Both my father and mother seemed a bit hesitant at first, but they trusted their old comrade. Finally my father replied, “All right, but be careful. I haven’t had the chance to teach him how to properly fight yet. We’ve just been doing light strength and mana exercises so far.”

Adam got up from his makeshift log seat and looked around until he found a short stick he felt satisfied with.

“Come here, kid,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s see what you’re made of.”