Aden watched the fire lick at his arm, burning away the blood and healing the large gash that he had received earlier. His thin face regained color at the relieving of his pain and he smiled crookedly. The early summer night was cool, but refreshingly so after the hot weather. He laid back onto the green grass beneath the old maple tree and stared into the sky where the bright stars shone in the dark sky.

He could hear owls hooting in the silence of the night, interrupted only by the intermittent crackling of his fire. He dozed until the fire was nearly out, then fell completely asleep as the coals dimmed to an orange glow.

Aden opened his eyes when he heard the sound of light footsteps nearby and looked around warily, only to see several deer grazing in the meadow in front of him.  He watched them quietly, not moving an inch to keep from startling the beautiful creatures in their quiet simplicity. One moved so close as to sniff his bare foot. Catching the scent, the deer’s tail flicked up and it stared into Aden’s bronze eyes with it’s large, brown ones. Pouncing away, it alerted the small herd and they all bounded off away from the man.

As he stood up, he smelled something in the air. At several more sniffs, he could identify the scent of smoke. He felt the wind and finally found out the direction it was coming from. He ran towards where the sun was coming close to rising and, after a few minutes, of heavy running, came into view of a large cottage caught on fire. He paused for only a moment before plunging into the burning building. Unsure where to turn in the huge household, he stopped a running maid, “Are there children?” his voice rose above the crackle of the wood.

“Yes,” she cried, “on the top floor; oh! Save them, please!”

Aden ran up the several flights of stairs, feeling the heat from the surrounding flames and dodging the crumbling stairs. He heard a baby’s cry and a young girl’s scream behind a doorway. He kicked down the door and found a small girl holding a baby and she was attempting to open the door without dropping the helpless babe. She screamed louder as he burst in, a sleeve of his shirt aflame. He gripped the fabric and ripped off the section of burning material. Aden scooped up the two in his arms and started back down the burning stairs. The fire was starting to lick at the base of the steps, blocking their way. He put his arms protectively around the children and lept over the last few steps. He raced out the door he entered in and put the children in the grass a distance away from the house. There were servants everywhere, but none attempting to save anyone more from the home. The girl was crying and the baby screaming louder than ever. He knelt down so he was at eye level with the child, “Listen,” he said comfortingly, “I need you to stay here, alright?”

She nodded through her tears and he put on a severe tone, addressing one of the men from the group of servants, “Is there anyone else who could be in there?”

“Well,” the servant said slowly, and Aden shook him by the shoulders.

“Speak!”

“The mother and father,” he answered swiftly, “but a board fell across their door and they cannot fit through the window.

“Where?” Aden asked hurriedly.

“Second floor,” farthest right door down the left hall, “but there’s no chance of saving them!” he shouted after Aden as he plunged back into the burning structure.

The fire was blocking too many steps to jump, but the railing was still mostly intact and he could manage it. He jumped upwards and grabbed a hold of the thick wood, then pulled himself up, landing just ahead of the flames and racing ahead of them. He found the door the servant had mentioned and could see the huge beam blocking the way. He summoned what power he could and blasted the wood. It flew into a thousand pieces and splinters. Aden shoved open the door to find the man and woman attempting to make the window large enough to fit through.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“No time. Come one. We can still make it out alive,” he seized two thick blankets and thrust it at the couple, ordering them to wrap themselves in them. They did as he told and they hurried back to the steps, which had become more engulfed in flame in the small amount of time he had been gone. He could feel splinters in his body all over and small speckles of blood were beginning to seep through his clothing. “Run right through, then drop the blankets after!” he shouted and, without even questioning his words, they followed. He jumped down after them, landing sprawled on the floor. A beam fell and landed on his back. He shouted in pain and surprise. The two he had just saved had already rushed from the building and would not be able to hear him. He harnessed what little power he had left and shattered the beam once again, feeling a deep, sharp pain in his side. The sound of the blast could be mistaken for a beam crashing down, but not if one saw what had happened. He had performed magic, and shouldn’t have, but there was no other choice. He pushed himself up and ran out the front door right as the foundations gave out and the house collapsed. The force of the crash forced Aden, once again, to the ground and he covered his head to avoid gaining any sort of concussion. The flames stretched out over him and engulfed the small yard in front of the burning remains of the grand house. He felt the heat, but was not harmed by the orange blaze. He felt wood crashing on the ground near him, but curled himself into as tight of a ball as he could, still hiding his head and face with his arms. Screams rent the air from the family and employees of the house as the fire flared outwards. It died in just a few moments and Aden slowly loosened his position, watching the collapsed building burn.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself a little bit. A heat on his back warned him that his shirt was on fire and he rolled over several times to put out the burning fabric.

He scrambled up and away from the heat, to ensure that the family was alright. The mother was holding the baby and the father hugging the small child, comforting her.

“Are all of you alright?” he asked, starting to dust some the ash off of his clothes.

“Yes, thanks to you,” the man scooped up his daughter. “How can we repay you?”

“There is no need,” Aden refused, “any man would have done the same.”

“But not any man could have moved that beam.”

“The rush of the moment, the hot blood pumping through my veins. I’m not sure how I did it myself,” Aden shrugged dismissively.

“Thank you; thank you so much,” the mother had tears streaming down her face and she squeezed her baby lovingly.”

“How did the fire start-do you know?” Aden questioned with concern.

“I’m afraid, master, that it was me,” one of the servants stepped forward. “You see, I was cooking a ham for the breakfast, but I left for a moment to search for any eggs the chickens may have laid, but it must have caught fire and when I came back, the whole kitchen was ablaze. Please, forgive me sir,” he begged.

“Of course; it was an accident,” the man answered without hesitation. They watched on in silence as the building burned.” There was absolutely no hope of saving anything inside and the whole crowd of people who had lived there cried. Aden watched on in horror, seeing everything the whole family had had just vanished with no hope of being saved.

Aden could feel his bruised back where the beam had landed and the splinters embedded in his torso and arms. He shifted uncomfortably, eager to get away and heal himself.

The whole company turned on hearing numerous hooves on the gravel road.

“Is everything here alright? We saw the smoke and-” he stopped his horse in the road and stared at the burning structure.

“Our home,” the man bit his lip, trying to control his emotion.

“Would you like assistance putting it out?” the captain asked.

“If you are willing,” the man brightened a little, gently putting his child on the grass.

“Dismount!” he gave the order and nearly two dozen soldiers were soon at work along-side the half-dozen household hands. Aden helped until it was mostly out, then snuck out into the trees. He followed the road the soldiers had come on to the town, where he searched out the tavern with a dragon carved into the wooden frame. He entered the dark building, which smelled strongly of ale, and strode directly for the counter.

“Fine dragon you’ve got there,” Aden commented to the pub keeper, gesturing to the door.

The heavy-built woman winked merrily, “Aye, it is. I keep it in the back room.”

“Thank you,” Aden steered his way towards the back door and opened it cautiously.

The room was dark and smelled strongly of smoke. Aden closed the door behind him, his eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness and soon could make out a shadow near the corner.

“Young warlock searching for advice?”

“How did you know?”

“Why else would you be back here?” a fire burst into life in the fireplace.

“True,” Aden could finally look at the man, who was sitting at a table. He had a long, white beard and a balding head. In one hand he held a scepter of a twisted shape and even while Aden stared, it began to glow and change through different colors, resembling that of molten lava first, then changing to an aqua blue. After the blue had faded, several shades of forest greens and browns. Even after that, it gave the illusion of wind and lightning. The patterns continued, ever changing and never stopping.

He gestured for Aden to sit down, “Now what did you want, my young lad?” his voice was deep and guttural.

“I’m searching out the Parapsychological Stone and I was told you had information.”

“Ah,” the man sighed, “another young one in search of the Impossible Treasure,” he smiled.

"Another?" Aden asked quickly, "How long ago?"

"Oh, no need to worry," the man chuckled, "Not many come, many are older than you, by far. How old are you, my young lad?"

"I'm just past ten and eight," Aden answered, wondering how it could be relevant to anything. "How many people have asked you? How long ago?"

"Oh a couple every few days," he said nonchalantly.

"A couple every few days?" Aden repeated.

"That is what I said, is it not?"

"Yes sir," Aden sat down onto a rickety chair uncomfortably. "I was hoping you could give me a clue on where to find the Parapsychological Stone."

The man laughed again, "Yes, I'll give you the clue, but they only go on. There is no Impossible Treasure, hence the name."

"Then I will die finding it," Aden replied determinedly.

"Then search you can," he smiled kindly.

"Then what is the clue?" Aden was feeling impatient.

"Patience, young one. There is no need to hurry. The road is long, hard and very confusing. Many will find themselves lost and confused. Over half will die in the path that I am to tell you."

"Then I will be in the half that lives. Now please just tell me."

"Meet me tonight in the field. I will tell you then."

"As soon as the sun sets," Aden nodded, then dropped a couple coins on the table in thanks for the man's help. He scooped them into a small pouch, thanking Aden.

In these types of situations, neither magician would reveal their name, so as to keep them less likely of being discovered and tortured for the names of other wizards. Aden wandered the streets, looking at trinkets for sale and at an inn, where he ordered a meal to suffice for the day. His coins were beginning to dwindle. As was his time.

His family back on the other side of Dolothor were in desperate need for money. They were in debt and were close to being thrown from their house. Aden had taken the journey all over the country, following clues and notes as to where the Parapsychological stone was hidden. He had had very little luck and did not begin with much money and was nearly out, even though he had been frugal with his purchases. The stone had powers that only a magician could control. It would bring wealth to any who owned it. It was said that a huge collection of gold and treasures were gathered with the stone and that it was all hidden away where the dwarves had stored it centuries and centuries ago, before they had died. Only small, obscure clues had been left all over [country] and no one had ever found it. Only magicians, such as Aden and many others, would be able to wield the power of the Stone and use it for the purpose with which it was created. It was said that if one with no power in their blood tried to use the stone, they themselves would be turned to stone.

Even though the king tried to stop wizardry, he failed utterly. He thought he had cleared [country] of all magicians, but thousands remained to live, although many were in hiding.

Aden was one of those, though not exactly in hiding. Nobody knew he was a magician, except his family.

“Why do you seek the treasure?” the elder asked gruffly.

“For my family back home in Pavold.”

“Pavold?” he asked with surprise, “My, you have travelled far,” the man added when Aden nodded affirmation.

“Please, can you tell me where to go?” he asked hopefully.

“I can send ye in the right direction, but there is very nearly a guarantee you won’t return. The way is dangerous.”

“I don’t care how perilous the path may be. My family needs the money.”

“How many are in your family?
“My mother, father, and three brothers.”

“And you are the oldest, I suppose?”

“Yes,” Aden affirmed.

“How old are you?”

“Nearly twenty, but I don’t see why this is relevant.”

“Ah,” the man sighed reminiscently, “still brimming with youthful impatience. How I miss being young, although I was a fool if there ever was one. Nearly got burned at the stake a couple times, only escaped by using magic. That put a price on my head. Laid low for a few years, found a skeleton, and convinced them it was me. But I am an old man ranting. How wanted are you?”

“Dolothor would not recognize my name, nor my appearance.”

“You are a talented magician. You must be eager to remain hidden, unlike me. I flaunted my powers since I knew how to.

Aden shifted impatiently, trying to conceal his frustration.

“I know, you just want to get going, but come back tomorrow and maybe I’ll just have an answer for you.”

Aden pursed his lips, “Thank you. I will be here in the morning.”

“I’ll be here,” he smiled kindly.

Aden left the room, frustrated. The sooner he could find the parapsychological stone, the sooner he would be able to get home and save his family’s farm. They only had just over a year when he had left to pay their debts.

That was six months ago.  He had to hurry up if he was going to get home before time was up.

That night, he stayed in an inn, although he got little sleep because of the raucous drinkers on the floor below him.

For what he had paid, though, the bed was comfortable.

As soon as the sun began to grace the sky with its light, Aden was up and headed to the tavern. It was not yet open, so Aden sat on the dirt road and leaned against the sturdy wall. The time dragged by and he began to doze. As footsteps approached, however, his eyes snapped open and he saw the old man standing next to him.