Chapter One
Jon stealthily stepped out of his father's store, being careful to silently latch the large oak door. As he stepped out onto the rocky road, he took a deep breath of the cool morning air and grinned. He looked around carefully.
"Good," he thought to himself, "No one's around."
As if his thoughts had been heard by a sprite, causers of mischief and chaos, there was a loud crash to his left, down an alley on the side of his fathers shop. Jon flinched, sucking in his breath, and then glared at the alley as there was a defining screech and another crash.
He started to step towards the alley when the door to his fathers shop blew open.
"What in blue blazes do ya think you're doin' out 'ere?!?" His father bellowed, his hastily put on robe flapping open to reveal his ample stomach. "You'll catch you're death o' cold!" He scowled, grabbing Jon by the ear and throwing him in the house, slamming the door shut.
"What have I told you about going outside!?" Jon's father, Malk, roared, spraying spittle over the poor boy's face, "Especially at odd hours in the morning?! What if people saw you!? You'd ruin the business! What do you have to say for yourself!?!"
Before Jon could respond to the questioning, Malk set down the lit candle he had been holding and reached behind him to grab an old oak stick that was leaned against the wall for just such purposes.
"Now you get back in your room and forget this magic tomfoolery, before I wail on your back with this stick!" Malk stomped over to other side of the small, stone walled shop and threw open the door to the living quarters in the back.
"You know better than to go outside before light Jon!" Malk boomed, narrowly missing a vase on the table with his wild waving stick. He drug Jon to another door and released his iron grip on the lad's ear. Rubbing his ear, Jon glared fervently at his feet, wishing he hadn't been caught.
"Aw, come on Jon. I wasn't really going to hit you." Malk said, "No need for tears. Buck up." Malk placed his large, worn finger under Jon's chin and tilted his head up till he looked him in the eye. Jon was about to say that he wasn't crying, but his father interrupted him.
"Its just after that evil wizard and all, the folks in town won't think nothing good of your wanting to be a magic user." Malk sighed, removing his burly hand from Jon's chin and ruffling his brown hair. "Now get back in bed. And don't let me catch you outside before light again, or I swear by the High Kings, I'll break this stick over your rear!" And with that, Jon's father shut the door leaving Jon
in the dark watching the slip of light disappear beneath the door as his father walked off with the candle.