SUMMARY: He was the pawn of Jack of Blades his entire life. This is Maze's story.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, seriously, I'm going on hiatus now! What can I say? I'm having a blast writing this story. But now the angel on my shoulder is screaming at me to get back to my homework. Expect a week's delay. Have fun everyone!
Fable
Dawn of Sorrows
Chapter One
I knew from that moment on that my life was not my own. I belonged to him. His words were my life. And I hated him.
--From the Diary of Maze
"You are not concentrating," Jack scolded him disapprovingly.
The boy gritted his teeth, the muscles in his face taut. "But it's too hard," he choked out.
Even from behind the mask, the boy felt Jack's powerful glare, effective as any physical blow. "DO. NOT. SAY. THAT!" he growled, and the boy cringed, afraid that he might actually strike him. But the dark figure paused, and then he said more quietly. "The power is in you. You just need to claim it."
The boy nodded nervously, releasing a breath and then gathering his senses. Once again he took a stand against the target.
Two years had passed since the boy had come into the care of Jack of Blades, and he trained everyday ever since. An attendant would wake him up just at the crack of dawn and pass him off to a trainer who took him outside for morning calisthenics. Then after that, he was passed off to a second trainer for tutoring in the library and then back to the first trainer for weapons training. Then at the close of the day, the boy was usually back inside where he would spend the rest of the evening learning the old arcane languages, but today was a very special day; it was the first day of his Will training, and this was something that Jack decided to oversee for himself.
He remembered that long ago, in his old life, his father would tell him stories about the Heroes, how that some of them were masters of the sword, others masters of the bow and arrow, and still others masters of the Will. He had said that Heroes went into strict training to become who they are. And even though the boy knew that he wasn't training to become a Hero—that he could never become a Hero—he was still excited to be learning their esteemed arts, especially the Will powers.
The boy focused on the practice dummy in front of him. He extended an arm, clearing his mind just as Jack had told him. All of time seemed to be concentrated in this moment. He could already feel the tingling in his fingertips. This was as far as he had ever gotten. Instead of letting himself get excited, he pushed out all distractions, focusing on the sensation, cultivating it, making it grow. Finally, it grew too large for him to handle, and he threw the offending powers at the practice dummy before him—an arch of lightning—setting it on fire. The ear-popping sonic boom brought him back to the present world.
The boy blinked, staring at his handiwork with shock and awe. He did it! He looked up at Jack who sagely nodded at him. "Well done, boy. Let's see that again."
The boy selected his next target—the dummy next to it—and this time, it was easier than the first; he destroyed the straw figure with ease. Without prompting, he went on to the next one and the next one until finally, all the dummies were in flames.
But such success didn't come without a price. He almost didn't catch himself in time. His legs were buckling under him. His breathing was heavy. And his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He looked up at Jack helplessly.
"Your zeal is commendable, but you have learned the first rule of using the Will." He hand the boy a small vial. It was filled with some sort of blue liquid. Carefully popping the top, the boy downed the liquid. It was thick and very refreshing. Almost instantly, he could feel his body stabilizing. "Learn to conserve your magicks, lest you find yourself in an undesirable situation and unable to defend yourself."
"Yes, sir," he said solemnly.
Jack seemed to regard the boy carefully, and he shifted uncomfortably under his piercing gaze. Jack was plotting something, and he knew it. "One last exercise," he said. "Wait here." The dark figure took several paces and once again turned and faced the boy. "Now, attack me!"
The boy blinked. Surely he had to be kidding!
The boy cried out as an arch of lightning caught him in the legs. Jack stood with his arm extended. "Attack me!" he demanded.
The boy rolled out of the way of the second salvo, taking refuge behind a barrel as he struggled to re-gather his senses. What was going on? Why would Jack do this?
The boy felt, rather than heard, the next salvo and once again leapt out of the way. The barrel exploded behind him, splinters embedding in his skin, and now he was out in the open. Angry and betrayed, the boy shed all feelings of self-control. He rushed Jack, hands extended, lightning flying from his fingertips, determined to bring him down. But before it could strike him, Jack launched a barrage of his own, meeting the boy's in mid-air.
The meeting of magicks caused the boy to stand his ground. He brought his other hand up, hoping to reinforce his attack, but Jack was too powerful. Briefly his mind flashed back to that fateful night. Jack had destroyed those Balverines as if they were nothing… Then a horrible revelation washed over him: the dark figure never would have allowed him to last this long unless he wished it; Jack was toying with him.
The boy saw a bright flash, and the next thing he knew, he was thrown high into the air. He landed on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs, his whole body tingling with electrical energy. He shook his head groggily. There were the sound of footsteps, and Jack's masked visage came into sight. All the boy could do was lay there, too weak to move. "You have now learned the second rule of using Will powers: You cannot beat me."
REVIEWER'S NOTES:
Seda: I have the PC version of Fable: The Lost Chapters.
imsooocool12: Um… okay… that doesn't really help me. Help me improve. Be constructive, please. :)
Everyone else: Thanks for the encouragement!