Enchanted: Chapter Four

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Chapter Four: The Boy the Gem Wouldn’t Kill

 

 

The ground hit hard, but not as hard as the reality.

 

Aurelian crashed onto cold stone, chest heaving.

 

The room was circular, the walls carved with ancient markings that pulsed faintly blue. Floating candles spun slowly overhead. It smelled like ash and scrolls.

 

“What is this?!” he shouted, scrambling backward.

“Are you a cult? A murder wizard? Please don’t eat my brain.”

 

Magister Orrin stood calmly in the center of the room.

 

“Relax. You’re safe. Welcome to the Enclave.”

 

Aurelian stared, wide-eyed.

“I—I’m sorry. The what?”

 

Orrin gestured casually.

 

“You were chosen by the Gem of Caedric. That makes you the next Enchanter. Leader of the Wizards’ Council.”

 

Aurelian blinked.

 

Then burst into laughter.

 

“Sorry. Thought I heard you say I’m your leader. I didn’t apply for a wizard job, mate.”

 

Orrin raised an eyebrow.

 

“You don’t apply. The gem chooses.”

 

Aurelian stood slowly.

 

“Okay. Neat. I’m leaving now.”

 

He turned—paused.

 

“Wait. You’re saying... I lived because this gem... picked me?”

 

Orrin nodded.

 

“You should have died. But the gem found you worthy. In the last breath of Caedric, it left him... and entered you.”

 

Aurelian’s smile faded.

 

He remembered it—the flash of blue. The warmth in his chest. Just before he lost consciousness.

 

His hand went to his ribs.

 

He didn’t feel a gem.

 

But something hummed.

 

Inside.

 

“This is insane.”

 

“And true,” Orrin said.

 

The door creaked open.

 

A grey-robed man stepped in—taller, older, with a long silver beard and calculating eyes.

 

Hollan Verrick.

 

“You shouldn’t have brought him,” Hollan said.

“He’s untrained. Undisciplined. Unfit.”

 

Aurelian raised a hand.

 

“Standing right here, thanks.”

 

“The Varn already move,” Hollan continued.

“We needed strength. And instead, the gem chose... this.”

 

“Wow,” Aurelian muttered.

“Really getting the full hospitality experience today.”

 

Orrin stepped forward.

“You’ll return home after this. But starting tomorrow, you’ll come here after school. One hour of training daily.”

 

“Training for what?”

 

“To stay alive.”

 

Aurelian frowned.

 

“I have school. Parents. Lunch plans. Elira. I can’t live a double life!”

 

Hollan sneered.

“And yet, you will. Or die trying.”

 

Aurelian paced.

 

“Okay. Just an idea. What if we... take out the gem?”

 

Orrin’s expression turned deadly serious.

 

“You’d die instantly. You lived because of it. It's part of you now.”

 

“Soooo... magical parasite. Got it.”

 

Hollan stepped forward.

 

“Until he can lead, I’ll act in his place.”

 

Orrin nodded.

“Temporary regency. Agreed.”

 

Aurelian held up both hands.

 

“Do I at least get dental?”

 

 

---

 

In the underworld chamber of The Varn, the cloaked leaders circled a black flame.

 

“You’re saying he vanished before you got there?”

Torvin nodded.

“Taken. By the council.”

 

“Then he’s already among them.”

 

“We wait. Watch. The moment he’s vulnerable... we strike. Kill the boy. Destroy the gem.”

 

 

---

 

One hour later...

 

Veldenmoor Academy.

 

Aurelian rushed through the side gate.

 

“I’m dead. I’m actually dead.”

 

Callen saw him first.

 

“Look who wandered back. Our detention master.”

 

The sports teacher stormed toward him.

 

“Thorne! Where’ve you been?”

 

“Sir, I—”

 

“Two hours. Detention. Now.”

 

Aurelian sighed.

 

As he walked to the detention room, his eyes met Elira’s.

 

She looked confused. Angry.

 

And worried.

 

 

---

 

The room was dim. The clock on the wall ticked down like a bomb.

 

Aurelian sat alone at a desk.

 

He closed his eyes.

 

Focused.

 

Beyond the walls—whispers.

 

Callen’s voice.

 

“I’m asking her. Elira. At break. She’s over him. I’m in.”

 

Aurelian’s eyes flew open.

 

“That bastard.”

 

Break was in five minutes. He had one hour fifty remaining.

 

His mind flashed back—

 

“Magic is thought,” Orrin had said.

“Magic is will.”

 

Aurelian stared at the proctor.

 

Focused.

 

“Time’s up,” he whispered under his breath.

 

The teacher blinked.

 

Looked at the clock.

 

“Thorne... you’re done. You may go.”

 

“Wait what—?” another student muttered.

“He’s barely been here—”

 

Too late.

 

Aurelian was gone.

 

He sprinted into the corridor.

 

Rounded the corner.

 

And stopped.

 

Ahead of him, about five meters away—

 

Someone stood.

 

Tall.

 

Familiar.

 

 

 

---

 

To be continued...

 

 

---

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