Part I: The Magician
Staring at the burning village in front of him, Spencer Reid shifts the rucksack on his shoulder and fondles the small leather pouch in his hand. There had barely been enough time for him to grab a few clothes, his mother's savings box, his notebook and this pouch before the entire house had been engulfed in flames. For the past three hours he had searched the woods for his Mother, but she was nowhere to be found.
He crouches down and pulls a few small twigs and leaves from his rucksack. Using a flint and stone he efficiently starts a small fire. He blows on the embers, chants a few words under his breath and sits back. His mother had taught him a spell that would show a path to her if ever he or she were lost. He watches as the smoke rises from the fire and begins to swirl around, poking out here and there as if seeking something. But instead of showing the path, it curls in on itself in and dissipates.
Numbly, he stares at the pile of twigs and leaves as the fire burns out. So engrossed is he that he does not hear the approaching footsteps behind him.
A pair of hands grab his shoulders and pull him to his feet.
"Where are they?" a man growls in his ear. Spencer gawks wide-eyed at another man holding a blade to Spencer's throat.
"What?" Spencer frowns. "Who?"
"Our women folk, you stupid bastard," the man spits out. The man holding Spencer shakes him a few times causing him to drop the pouch.
"I don't know," Spencer replies. He tries to twist himself free.
The man with the blade steps closer. "I ought to gut you right here."
"Hey! Let him go," another voice breaks in.
They turn to look at Mick Rawson as he edges his way through the large group of men who have gathered around Spencer.
"We caught this lowlife mucking about," the man with the blade grumbles.
"That's Spencer. He and his mother live in the hut near the lake," Rawson explains. "Let him go."
The giant hands on his shoulders release him with a shove. Spencer trips and falls into Rawson who steadies him.
"Are you okay?" Rawson asks.
Spencer nods. "I'm fine. Have you seen my Mother?"
"I have not," Rawson answers gently. "All the women in the town have disappeared."
"Disappeared? All of them? How is that possible?"
"Black magic," one man in the crowd says cautiously.
"There's no such thing," another man replies.
"Magic is illegal," says a different man. "Anyone caught doing magic is killed."
Spencer and Rawson share a look. Rawson turns to the group. "You men fan out and keep looking. Go on now."
Rawson waits until the group wanders off before he turns back to Spencer. He glances down at the small fire that was now out, then up to Spencer.
"Did you see anything, Spencer?"
Spencer frowns and looks carefully at the older man. "What do you mean?"
"I know that you and your Mother have unique gifts. Have they helped at all?" Spencer shakes his head. Rawson continues. "What were you doing when your Mother disappeared?"
"I was out collecting herbs. It's the new moon and there are several flowers and herbs that can only be gathered on this night," Spencer explains.
Rawson smiles and nods. He lays a gentle hand on Spencer's shoulder. "You and your Mother are both amazing healers. What was your Mother doing? Was she asleep?"
Spencer shakes his head. "No. She had gone down to the lake to fetch some water. But she was back at the hut when the attack happened."
"Attack?"
"I heard her scream," Spencer says. "I ran back to the hut. The water pail was there, tipped over, water had spilled everywhere. Our hut was on fire. I ran inside. She wasn't there. I grabbed what I could and ran out. I've been looking for her since then."
Rawson nods. "It must have been some sort of marauders; the whole village is on fire."
Spencer turns away, his eyes settling on the glow to the North where the village stood. He swallows hard and narrows his eyes.
"What are you thinking?" Rawson asks quietly.
"I'm thinking it was black magic," he replies softly. He looks back at Rawson. "There was something else. I heard a screech and what could only be wings flapping. I think it was a dragon."
Rawson steps back, eyes wide. "There are no more dragons, Spencer. The King's knights wiped them out years ago."
"Are you sure?"
The older man stares at him without answering for several seconds. "I hope so."
Spencer retrieves his pouch from under a bush. He squeezes it into his hand. "If it is dragons, we're going to need help to get them back."
"We're heading to the castle to inform the King," Rawson says. "Would you like to come with us?"
"No," Spencer replies. "I have my own plan to get my Mother… and the others back."
"You should come with us," Rawson presses. "It's too dangerous to go alone. Let the King's Knights do that."
"I'm not going alone. By the time you tell the King, and he sends his men, my Mother could be long gone," Spencer argues. "And the other women as well."
"Who are you taking with you?" Rawson asks. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find the Black Knight. He and I will go after them," Spencer announces.
Rawson goes silent and stares at him as if he had suddenly grown three feet taller and turned purple.
"Spencer," Rawson says quietly. "The Black Knight is dead."
"How do you know?" Spencer asks.
"No one has seen him for years," Rawson explains. "He disappeared after the Queen died."
"He's still alive," Spencer insists.
"That's a fool's quest, Spencer. Come with us. The King can and will actually do something."
Spencer shakes his head. "Thank you but I will follow my own path as you follow yours."
"Suit yourself," Rawson states as he begins to walk away. "You should start your journey at the Village of the Damned. But be careful. It's a dangerous journey just to get there. Good luck, Spencer."
Spencer stands still for several minutes watching Rawson disappear into the woods. He hears the footsteps of the villagers fade into the distance. Opening the pouch, he tips it over and allows the contents to drop into his hand. A ring, heavy and large with a dark, black gem on the top sits in his palm. Spencer slips it on his thumb, it's too large. The black gem begins to change colors, it gets lighter and swirls as if it is alive. The color continues to morph for several seconds before turning silver.
"I know you're still alive," he murmurs aloud. "And I will find you."
Spencer skirts the village not wanting to run into anyone else who may try to kill him. He knew that he and his Mother were misunderstood by most people. His previous encounter told him they already blamed him. He eyes the sky as much as the hedgerows, trying to keep himself from attack. For if he was right, the dragons could return at anytime.
The path to the Village of the Damned is fraught with hazards from nature and humans. His first obstacle comes in the forests. He rounds a corner and spies a robbery in progress. A group of men in tattered clothes surrounds a wagon. The men hold their captors at knife point. Knowing he has not the means to defend himself let alone others, he continues on, jumping on and off the trail as he encounters other people.
He stops briefly for food and water before moving on. As night falls, he searches for safe shelter. The only spot he found was in the middle of a copse of trees. He dares not risk a fire, instead he huddles close to the trees and closes his eyes.
"Oy! Look what we found here," a loud male voice rumbles, waking Spencer.
He opens his eyes. A large man covered in dirt with long hair and a scraggly beard, hovers over him. The stench of his unwashed body envelopes him. Spencer chokes.
"Hello lovey," the man says menacingly. "Give us what you got, and you'll come to no harm."
"I don't have anything," Spencer croaks.
"Oh, we'll see about that," the man roars. He reaches out and grabs Spencer's rucksack. Spencer holds on to it tightly.
"Let go!" he yells.
The man drags him out of the trees. Another man steps over and grabs Spencer from behind. The two would-be robbers end up in a game of tug-of-war with Spencer as the rope in between. The first man manages to rip the rucksack out of Spencer's hands.
"No!" Spencer screams. "Give that back."
The two men laugh. The first man dumps the contents of the rucksack on the ground. He pushes the clothes and herbs to the side and grabs the box with his Mother's savings in it.
The man cracks open the box and crows gleefully. "Haven't got nothing, you say. What do you call this?"
He dumps a handful of coins into his palm and shows it to Spencer and the other man, who still has Spencer in his grasp.
"That's my Mother's," Spencer replies. He struggles to free himself to no avail.
"Oh, you hear that, Stinky? It's his Mother's," the man laughs. He sobers up and gets in Spencer's face. "Not anymore."
The two men laugh again. The first man bends over and picks up the pouch. He opens it and peers inside.
"What is it? More gold?" the second man asks.
"It's a ring," the first man says. He pulls the ring out, the black gem swirls with hints of red and gray. The man tries it on. He admires it for a moment. The ring turns bright red. The man screams and shakes his hand. He jumps and runs around in a circle, dropping coins as he goes. He pulls the ring off throwing it to the ground. "What the hell!? What is that?"
"What happened?" the other man demands.
The first man holds up his hand. A red mark burned onto his finger where the ring sat. "It felt like my hand was on fire."
"It's a demon ring," the second man gasps. He shakes Spencer. "Are you a demon?"
"No! I'm not a demon. I swear!"
The man squeezes him tightly before throwing Spencer against a tree. "I don't believe you!"
He kicks at Spencer lying on the ground. The other man comes over and joins him. For several minutes, both men kick and hit Spencer repeatedly, until he is bleeding and moaning. Through bleary eyes, he watches them disappear before the world fades to black.