Chapter 2
Road to Piltover
The funeral was the day after the following one, Zachariah had found him in the morning when he woke up to do chores. Unsure how he'd apologize for speaking so harshly to Grandpa, when he saw him in the chair, he thought he'd just fallen asleep like he usually had in that chair. It was Jack's whining at Grandpa's feet, tapping the old man with his paw. Zachariah tried to wake him up, he begged him to wake up squeezing his Grandpa's cold limp hand. Even when he tried to use healing magic to do the unthinkable Zachariah knew it was too late he was gone, and the boy was all alone. Crying as he did his morning chores making sure the animals were taken care off Jack followed him the whole time sensing something was wrong with those magical senses only dogs had. Letting the cows and Bess out to graze he wiped his eyes knowing he'd have to let the villagers know. He went to the Wesley's first, they had been their closet neighbors and friends in Hamlet. Zachariah had cried the whole way to their door before the eyes were too red and dry to weep anymore, Mama Wesley cried for him after George answered the door. She hugged him tight recounting all the times Grandpa had made healing potions for her family, he got hugs and words of kindness from the whole family and Jill Wesley with tears in her eyes dripping onto her blue dress hugged him tightest or all kissing him on the cheek. None of her brothers protested given the circumstances. Mr. Wesley, their father's balding but fully blonde bearded ox of a man, declared he and his sons wouldn't make him go door to door and they'd spread the knees to Hamlet for them.
"Your Grandpa was one of the good ones, no use putting holes in your boots and anymore pain you're already in." He said before he and the boys went to share the sad news. Ma Wesley had baked him food while Jill held his hand stroking it as she talked to him letting him know it was alright. The inside of the Wesley's kitchen was to have the best food in all of Hamlet, herbs hanging from the ceiling filling the room with aroma. Jade of pickles, tomatoes, and every vegetable the village lines the shelves next to hand painted plates. Colorfully painted from the edge of the floor to the higher shelves. Their house was made of brick, stone and wood all mashed in different segments to accommodate the large family.
Sitting at the green kitchen table Jill squeezed his hand as her mother cooked breakfast for him and her boys when they got back "He went peacefully right?" She asked
"In his sleep." Zachariah replied.
Nodding Jill fixed her wavy blonde hair behind her ear, "I can't tell you how skerry we are, everyone will miss your Grandpa, I don't know what we'll do without him all the potions he gives us. I still remember when I saw him use his magic to stop that flood it was the greatest thing I'v ever seen."
"He was amazing, he taught me so much." Zachariah said drinking some water, it just turn into tears anyway.
That was the rest of a morbid day after Zachariah went home to dig the grave, one by one the whole village came to Zachariah and Grandpa- Zachariah's farm now after he went home gray clouds covering Hamlet. The Comptons, Snarks, Meldones, the Black Smith and his apprentice, the Baker, Will Tabolt the owner of the Dancing Boar, and many more. Last was the Caretaker and his wife, who oversaw the last rights of Hamlet. He let them into Grandpa's room where Zachariah had carried him, leaving the room after he told which clothes he thought Grandpa wanted to be buried in. From the old man's wardrobe Zachariah had chosen the least damaged robe he could find. A thick white velvet garment with baggy sleeves and a silver embroidery to match his hair. Silver shoes to match and a blue scarf wrapped around his neck.
While he greeted and thanked everyone for their sympathies, and the many dishes and food people would bring as custom to ease the pain with good food. The kitchen soon overflowed with pastries, hams, chicken, that he had to put them in the pantry so there was room for people in the farmhouse. When the time came all of Hamlet was in black even Zachariah had grabbed his black jacket and cap to follow everyone to the grave. He chose Grandpa's favorite spot on the farm, a low hill with a solitary tree where they'd practice magic. The grave already dug Bess drew the carriage, as the procession followed Zachariah in front of a river of black snaking up the hill when the time came.
Zachariah didn't have much left to say, when he stood up to speak holding his hat in his hands looking at the villagers. "I'm not sure what someone says at a Mages funeral, my Grandpa was the only other mage I knew to me he was just… Grandpa. You all knew him as the village wizard, the old man who cured the sick, but he was my teacher, he always told me Magic was life and life was magical neither should be squandered that's why I decided…" he trailed off he hadn't made up his mind yet about if he'd do what Grandpa had asked in his letter. One final argument for him to leave and see the world, "Decided I've got nothing left to say." He stepped back into the mourners and those who wanted to speak did so. Mr. and Ma Wesley said they always considered them part of part family, Jenny recounted the time Granda use magic to stop the food that nearly destroyed Hamlet. The Briggs spoke next saying they don't know what they'd have done without Grandpa's special potions for their kids. By the time people had finished everyone was waiting for Zachariah to drop the first latch of overturned dirt before the caretaker filled in the grave. Holding Grandpa's gold dragon ring in his hand he hadn't decided to wear it, or haven't buried with him. It was the only gold thing I'd value Grandpa owned. Squeezing the dirt he dropped it over the wooden coffin.
Everyone paid their last respects, and after Jill had thrown her handful of dirt she came over to stand next to Zachariah. Slipping her hand in his both covered in dirt she was wearing a black high collared dress and coat, her blonde hair tie back in a bushy bun. Zachariah was glad she was here, her and her family were the closest thing he had to family here now, unless what was in Grandpa's letter was true. When the last pieces of dirt were settled people started to leave trickling down the hill back to their horses and carts. Not before giving pats on the boy's shoulder. Hugs of gentle reassurance by the village wives firm handshakes by the men. Will Tabolt had suggested Zachariah come to the Dancing Boar later to toast to Grandpa's memory. They spoke about how Zachariah and George once got drunk at the pub when they were only twelve and Zachariah nearly set the place on fire when he was goaded into performing magic. The fire only destroyed the bar before Grandpa appeared dousing the flames with his magic saving the Dancing Boar only to order a tall glass of ale afterwards.
The Wesley's stayed last, the parents made promises of making sure they'd come by to check on him, so did George. Zachariah gave him a firm hug thanking him and George whispered "Here for you mate."
Lastly Jill stood in front of him, she cupped his face with both hands and she kissed him "Can we talk later, when you feel like it" Zachariah paused before answering giving her a soft nod. He looked over at her family and surprisingly none of her brothers had a murderous intent in their eyes, actually George was smiling.
When he was alone he looked at his Grandpa's grave mulling over the letter, "He'll be missed."
Turning around Zachariah saw a stout potbellied man with sharp brown eyes, salt and pepper black hair wearing a black coat and trousers with a tie, a gold watch chain hung from his pocket and he wore a bollard hat. Taking it off in respect he walked to stand next to Zachariah, he knew who he was Roderick Shiresmith, the Mayor of Hamlet. He rarely made time to come out to speak to either Zachariah or his Grandpa on one occasion the Mayor had even asked Grandpa to come and work for him in the village as a 'Cabinet Mage' Grandpa had laughed him off the farm.
"Thank you. Your honor." Zachariah said.
Shaking his head "But he'll rest easy son knowing the village is in good hand, having a local mage here for us has done wonders for this town. At first I was skeptical when you two arrived an old Wizard with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back, a horse and a baby. But never have I been more glad to be wrong, his tonics for us when we were sick, the magic to make our harvests better. I can't wait to see what you do for us." The mayor patted him on the shoulder and turned to him "My door is always open to you lad, I expect great things from you here Zachary."
"… Zachariah." He corrected me.
Chuckling and blushing a bit "Oh yes, I'm sorry, but I've taken enough of your time I'll leave you to mourn."
The mayor left just as said he would, after he couldn't bare to stay there another minute. Zachariah returned to the farm. Jack was waiting when he and Bess returned, unhitching the horse he gave her a fresh brushing in the barn and found it unusually quiet. The cows had been grazing all day and Madam was nowhere to be found, the tabby was nowhere to be seen when he looked in all her usual places for an hour he gave up. Walking back into the house he stared at Grandpa's chair and then at the letters he'd left one for him. The other for this Vander in Piltover, still sealed.
Sitting down at the desk he looked over the letter to him one last time.
Dear Zachariah,
I wish our last words had been on a happier note, I'm sorry I upset you but please do not pity our final moments together, I won't. Magic is life and life is magical, my life was a full one of adventures, laughter, sorrow, memories and you will always be the finest of them all my boy. My final request is that you reconsider your choice to stay in Hamlet I have no doubt you will be happy here. Finding fulfillment in whatever you decide, farming or even marrying and having children of your own here like so many of the other villagers. The time is near, I can feel it please once I am gone take my Dragon Ring, carry it with you always and should you be brave enough to venture away from Hamlet take my belongings hidden beneath the floorboards in the corner next to the fireplace they will help you on your journey. The second letter you'll no doubt have found is addressed to a man I trust beyond all others Vander of Zaun, you will find him in Piltover deliver this letter to him and he will help you in ways I never could, the source of your lineage and maybe your destiny if fate is kind. (The text began to turn into scratch from a shaking hand) Goodbye my boy, love
Grandpa
He set the letter down looking at the one with this Vander character on it, Zachariah held it up wondering who he was. Another mage, but he'd never heard of any in Piltover one of those industrialists people talked about, maybe a factory foreman? He put it into his coat before he walked over to the corner the letter had instructed, grabbing the poker next to the fireplace. With all his strength Zachariah smaller it into the footboard heading a loud crack of wood splitting yanking up the first board he looked down to see hidden under floorboards was a chest, he pried the next five boards out till he yanked the chest into the living room. Wiping away fifteen years of dust he saw encrusted on it the same dragon seal on Grandpa's ring, opening it up Zachariah saw a thick red cloth hiding something inside unfolding it he pulled out three items of varying unusualness. The first a wide brimmed hat with a point dropping at the tip, the second black leather coat faded to dark gray with green lining the high folded collar and interior it was adorned with studded buttons, and when he touched the leather it felt light but still strong. The shoulders and arms were lined with unusual wire mesh sewn tight together, he dragged his fingers over the metal wire feeling the rough edge and the last thing at the bottom of the chest was a staff. At its head was something Zachariah had never expected to see: a crystal, a large one the size of his fist round and smooth like a giant blue marble. He picked it up and when his hands touched the wood the sphere came alive with magical energy.
It only took seconds before he realized these were his Grandfathers, his clothes, his hat, his staff, a mage's staff, in his studies he'd learned that mages would use crystals to channel magic to do impossible spells. Holding it up he held out his hand and lighting coursed through his fingers, holding the image in his mind the lightning curbed and a small storm appeared in his hand, it drew to the size of a barrel cap he looked down the eye of his storm seeing the lightning within spinning the air around blew open the windows and send papers flying. Tightening his hand into fist he could feel it, the magic in him surging through his body, his soul, it was who he was.
He looked out the window, the gray clouds clearing and a blue southern sky was looking back at him, the world waiting for him to go and be apart of it. Zachariah looked at the staff squeezing it tight before reaching in his pocket and holding up Grandpa's dragon ring, what was he going to do. Setting down the staff next to the hat he held the ring squeezing it in his fist pressing it to his lips he had to think he had to make a choice or it would haunt him forever.
After sitting inside thinking he decided to clear his head by going outside and taking a walk out into the field. Still dressed in his funeral black he paced the full length of the ten acres of land the farm had, what would happen if he left. Would someone buy the farm or would the villagers divide it up like the animals. The Comptons would probably take their cows back, Bess would go to one of the smaller farms, the pig and chicken would either be taken to another farm and Jack. Oh poor Jack, he'd miss the dog terribly even if he did pounce on him every time he came home when he was gone for more than half a day. Zachariah had no doubt he'd go to a good home, the titan of a sheep dog was almost the size of a small horse and he'd seen the dog chase off a full grown wolf.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound he'd hoped to have heard all day, the loud wirey meow. Poking her tabby head out of the tall grass Madam had returned she walked up to him and rubbed her whole body up against his trousers. Kneeling down he scratched her head "Probably stay here, or find a new barn it's easy for you I guess." Zachariah sat down to scratch her ears.
She purred at his touch and nuzzled against him "Grandpa never did teach me how to turn into animals, maybe if I could I'd turn into a cat and ask what you thought."
He held up the ring rubbing his thumb over the dragon insignia "You know, for the longest time I'd known him I never asked Grandpa about this ring, he always had it with him and he asked me to hold onto it, or that he wanted me to leave, that only happened when he started to get sick." Said to the cat.
Madam continued to purring under his touch before she sat up straight, her eyes darted towards the grass. Ears moving left and right eyes turning from big black orbs to narrow slits. He followed her eyes looking into the tall grasses standing up. He couldn't see anything behind the sea of green grass and gray clouds moving from the rolling wind- wait there was a glint off of something then he heard it. It was a loud crack then something whistling past his head and sharp pain ripped across the left side of his head "GYAAAH-"
He tumbled to the ground, Zachariah grabbed his head feeling hot blood starting to seep into his brown hair. When he saw the red he knew it was a bullet, a gun someone was shooting at him. Madam was nowhere to be seen, good, he thought she'd be safe he had to get to safety to go back to the fram. He started to crawl across the grass stumbling to his feet he began to run through the grass- again he felt a bullet whiz past his head.
Without thinking Zachariah turned around his memory made the runes in his mind he thought of the spark and threw a fireball behind him setting the grass ablaze. But the only thing that burned was his right arm, a bullet biting into his arm. He hit the ground grabbing it screaming tears ran down his cheek pain running up and down his arm.
The marksman was closer now, a clearer shot.
Forcing himself to his feet, Zachariah started to run again. He could see the farm house when something snatched at his legs. He hit the ground landing right on his right arm, the pain doubling. Looking down his legs were wrapped up with metal wire, three iron balls knotted around his legs in some sort of throwing trap. Losing blood his right arm felt heavy even as his left tried to pull it off "It was a nice funeral almost cried."
Zachariah heard the sound of metal and wood shifting from where the voice had come from, looking up he saw a figure emerge from the grass. They were dressed in garments he'd never seen before they looked weathered, something a person would wear when they were outdoors armed with a rifle that had a telescope device on top of it, a scope. He had the same strange three stringed sling on his belt, along with a dagger and a pistol in a holster. They were dressed in a dark green cloak the same shade of the grass and hood, a metal mask covered their face, two narrow slits shadowed by the hood, then a one over the mouth muffling the marksmanship voice. He had a medallion on his chest, made of iron; there was no other symbol on it other than a skull.
"W-who are you why are you attacking me?" Zachariah stuttered as the stranger reloaded his rifle.
"You're about to die, might as well know why." The iron faced man said, pointing his rifle at him "You're a mage that makes you dangerous, I'm a Magehunter. I was after the old man waiting for the right time. It looks like time did it for me just leaves you had to wait till all the villagers left."
Zachariah's heart was racing fast, pumping more blood out of his burning bullet wound in his arm. "Why?"
"Mages are dangerous, no one should have the power to destroy the world like your kind, hold still I'll make it qui-" a snarl, Jack leapt from the grass out of nowhere long white fangs clamping down on the Magehunter's brown sleeve. He fired, missing Zachariah's face by inches but he didn't care; he watched Jack tear down the attacker to the ground. In a split second he heard cold steel scrape out of a sheath, the dagger.
"JACK!" Zachariah screamed but all he could do was watch and hear the dog's death yell from the Magehunters dagger. The pain in his arm vanished, replaced by something powerful, deadly; the trap around his legs incinerated and Zaricah was on his feet so was his attacker. They reached for their pistol but Zachariah had already drawn the ruins the ground at the Magehunters feet rumbled, the earth swallowing his boots. Zachariah holding up his right hand, drops of blood falling into the ground the Mage Hunter pulled up his pistol ankle deep and out of the ground shot a hand made of grass and dirt pulling his arm down the pistol firing into the ground. Snap, and a muffled scream from the earth hand snapping his arm. Zachariah drew another spell in the air the ruins appearing dark yellow and the Magehunter sank faster, more hands grabbing and clawing at him while the Magehunter tried to get free then he stopped chest deep.
Then he did something more terrifying than looking down the barrel of his gun, the man was laughing "Here I thought you were just some boy hahaha."
"When they find out I'm not coming back hehe… they'll hunt you down, they'll tear apart this village to find you boy." Zachariah wanted to ask who, but he couldn't break his concentration or the spell would break
He couldn't hold it anymore, he was about to faint from the loss of blood and magical energy his arms dropped to his side as the earth devoured the Magehunter. Still laughing "I don't understand we never hurt anyone-." Zachariah asked.
"Doesn't matter the Order will send more hahah I'm just the first of many mage." He said neck deep now his iron mask sinking "You'll never be safe- never hahahaha-" the last thing he saw were his eyes behind his mask wild blue crazed and maniacal then they were gone. Zachariah looked down at his arm soaked with red blood his, the cut on the side of his head was throbbing and he….
He'd just killed someone…
With magic… he felt sick, "Oh gods, oh gods gods what have I done…." dropping to his knees he grabbing his mouth the scent of blood forced in his nose and lips and then puking out onto the dirt his victim was underneath. "Gods, gods, gods-" he wept at it, he was murderer he- no it was self to defense it was, the pain in his arm was worse turning numb, he was loosing blood fast.
With his left arm he did his best to remember the healing spell, the air turned green around his hand. Clamping it down on his right arm where the wound was the magic sunk into his skin and the bullet started to move his muscles restitching, the skin growing "HrrrrraaaaAAAAAAHHHH!" He yelled before he felt something small and hard hit the palm of his left arm and collapsed to see the blood soaked bullet before he passed out.
There was something pecking at his head, shooting up he heard the sounds of a screeching crow right in front of his face before he swatted it away. He was still in the field where he'd been shot. A murder or crows were on for to the left eating something from the smell of blood and flesh "-Jack!" Weak as he was Zachariah fought his way to his feet stumbling toward the dogs body he picked up the magehunters rifle to club the nearest row "Get away you bastards." He shouted a few pecking at him before they flew away. But they'd done their work, Jacks yellow hair was ripped and stained with his own blood the poor dog was still and motionless "Oh jack…" he put his hand to the dogs head, he was missing an eye stolen by the starving crows"…. good dog." He said picking the remains up. He carried Jack back to the farm stumbling twice before he made it to the house before collapsing exhausted from the march laying the hound out in the barn covering him with Bess's horse blanket, not enough energy to dig a grave. Wobbling into the house he'd helped Grandpa when he used healing magic enough to know he needed to replace the blood with food, he grabbed the first piece of bread in the pantry and tore into it wolfing it down. Sinking to the floor of the pantry he stuffed his face feeling his strength returning slowly, he gave a sound of satisfaction looking at the bullet in his hand still covered by his own dried blood. It was over whoever the Magehunter was he was gone now, Zachariah could barely believe what he'd done and how the man had laughed, it was bone chilling.
'Doesn't matter the Order will send more hahah I'm just the first of many mage'
The strangers words were repeated in his ears, the warning this mysterious Order did they really exist, would they really destroy Hamlet all for him. Could he even take that risk, the choice had been made for him, he couldn't stay in Hamlet.
Zachariah left early in the morning, after burying jack in the yard fastening a tombstone, he'd packed up his traveling clothes along with the rest of the books Grandpa was preparing him to read. Advanced combustion spells by Tim the Enchanter, The Adventures Lina Inverse the Magnificent by Lina Inverse, Potions for all Occasions by Anonymous, The Alchemists Guide by Nicholas Flammel, Simon Magus's commentary on the Divine and Magic, Animateion by Yinsid. The rest were all books for complex spells that he wanted to brush up on. There wasn't any time for him to go to the town square to sell the animals the only one he could take with him was Bess. It pained him to put the saddle on her when he did but who knew when more of these Magehunters would show up at his door.
Before the sun was up he through his bag over Bess, was dressed in his travel clothes, thick brown trousers, a gray shirt with straps under a waist coat. He knew he couldn't fit in the coat Grandpa had left him and it didn't feel right to wear the hat, so he had them both put in his bag. The staff would have to be strapped to the saddle, the second he rested for the night he'd get some practice with it. Grabbing his own cap and a green jacket he slipped his boots into the saddle stirrup he steered her to the gate exit taking one last look at the farm then up at Grandpa's grave he pressed his his hand to his chest where the letter for this Vander person. He checked the leather string around his neck that held Grandpa's ring, then he was gone.
Riding hard through the morning dusk, when the sun was overhead in the wood he slowed Bess down to a trot. Zachariah wasn't halfway out of Hamlet in mid day through the greenwood when he heard hooves thundering behind him, looking over his shoulder he saw a pack of riders chasing after him all blonde haired.
The Wesley's they must have come by to see him, no doubt they found Jack's grave, soon John and Clark were behind him before they circled around, he looked over his shoulder to see Perrin and Marrin were behind Zachariah. The sunlight was letting in slivers of light and wind was making the trees whisper as Zachariah stopped Bess when he spotted George at the back, the brothers surrounded him before the youngest could speak.
"You thought you could just leave without saying goodbye?" George asked him.
Zachariah ooked at his best friend, painfully thinking of what to say; did they find the Magehunters body the gun, would they even know where to look "I can't stay here George, Grandpa didn't want me staying in Hamlet."
Shaking his head, George was doing his best to hide his anger, a look of betrayal in his eyes, he put his hands on his hips "Look I know your hurting mate but you don't have to go, you belong here in Hamlet." They didn't know, maybe it would be safer that way. Maybe these Magehunters wouldn't hurt the villagers if they hated him.
Zachariah knodded under his hat "I thought that too, hell I argued with Grandpa about that before he… before he died it wasn't an easy choice, but I have to do this."
"Gods why, we're friends- family." George snapped getting off his horse "We're not." Zachariah forced himself to say.
The brothers shared looks, Zachariah took note of their shaddles Clarks and John were both armed with old lever action rifles, used to protect against wolves. Perrin and Marrin had lassos, used for catching loose calves when they strayed too far from the herd.
"We can be, what about Jill she's crazy for you, you'll break her heart if you leave?" George pleaded, "Hamlets no place for me, George." Zachariah repeated.
George wasn't buying it, they'd been friends to long to know when the other was lying "What's wrong, why you talking like this, Mate?"
Zachariah squeezed the reins "I'm leaving, get out of my way." Zachariah said starting to lead Bess between them when Clark pulled his horse the eldest brother starred Zachariah down and grabbed Bess's rein "Pa said you wouldn't be thinking straight, come on back with us now, should have known when we saw you killed old Jack."
They thought he'd killed him, how could they think- no maybe he could use that, let them believe it it's for their own safer for the Village "Let go of my horse Clark."
"Don't make this harder than it has to be Zachariah, Hamlet needs you, we took you in and your Grandpa understood that paying us back all those years." Clark said "People just do up and leave Hamlet." John agreed taking out his rifle, leaning it on his shoulder as to add to the proclamation. The twins looked at one another in a fearful silence before moving their horses up on each side of Zachariah's mount. Zachariah looked at George who was speechless and even as Clark started to pull him around back to Hamlet.
"Your staying that's that, you'll marry Jill We know your both mad for one another, be part of the family and all this will be a bad memory, you'll thank us in a year or two." Clark said before Zachariah grabbed the staff he tore it free from the harness on the saddle and aimed it at Clark. The large crystal ball glowed with magic and small flecks of energy seeped out of it illuminating the elder brothers face in a bluish hue of fear.
Squeezing the staff tight to top his trembling hand "Let-go." Zachariah said forcefully.
Clark looked at the staff tip then at its holder "E-easy now lad, don't do anything hasty."
"I said I'm leaving, I don't love Jill I never liked any of you l…. Let-go." Zachariah hissed his hand trembling now "Y-you don't mean that Zachariah, your-your hurting we can tell." Clark said even with a magical artifact that could take his head off in he wasn't careful.
Zachariah slowly pulled his reins out of Clarks grip, he took his eyes off him to glance at a frozen Perrin so he'd move out of the way "Zachariah stop it!" George kicked his horse forward and it knocked into Perrin's horse pushing his steadshead up against Bess, the nag snapped at her and Bess gave out a neighing shriek spooked kicking up on both back legs. John's rifle went off and they all heard a scream, by the time the horses moved away, Clark was on the ground a red blotch on the lower left side of his shirt "CLARK!" George yelled jumping off his feet running toward him at the feet of Zachariah's horse.
Clark was already sitting up "George stay back." Zachariah held up his staff but something was happening the rush of the gunshot had sent everyone's horse into a panic Bess was still spooked she stood up on both her hind legs agains. Zachariah struggling to hold on to her and his staff saw the blue crystal orb sparked bright with a blinding light-
There was a cry of pain—
By the time Zachariah's sight returned, George was on the ground he had his hands over his face a rotten smell filling the air sparks or blue flame in his blonde hair, screaming into his muffled hands "George- George!" Clark scrambled over to his little brother frantically trying to put out the flames. Zachariah was speechless among the boys all trying to help all accept John who still had his rifle on in his hands he started to raised it toward Zachariah forcing his legs to kick Bess's sides the horse darted out from the chaos before he could fire, Zachariah saw him squeeze the trigger but John forgot he was empty. A shot followed and he saw a branch ahead of him explode off the tree, they missed.
"After him!" He heard one of the twins shouted.
Whipping the reins Zachariah rode away from the Wesley's who were in hot pursuit, shouting and cursing his name. He wasn't sure where he was going but he had to get as far away as possible now bullets whizzing past his head from Johns gun. Bess panting a storm of excretion. He looked over his shoulder and saw three riders John and the twins their nags gaining on him, Zachariah didn't dare use the staff again he couldn't bare the thought of hurting anyone else. The road began to twist and turn low branches swinging at him from every direction breaking off the woodland road, bowing his head he felt himself crash through lower flimsier branches and heard someone get the wind knocked out from behind. One of the twins had been knocked from his horse that just left two, looking forward he saw a light at the end of the trees. Turning hard right he guided Bess to the light escaping the thicket of trees into open fields they came into a valley Zachariah didn't recognize. There's were mountains to the south and to the north, shorter then the southern ones there was a wide river cutting threw the valley and a few miles away on the edge he could see a bridge, hearing the muffled shouts from both John and either Perrin or Marrin getting closer, looking forward again into the fields there'd be nowhere to hide in the open he had to keep going.
"THERE!" He heard Perrin yell.
Zachariah kept his eyes on the bridge he had to get across, had to get out of Hamlet, had to get away. BANG, another gunshot and a split second of fear he'd be shot rushed-past him as soon as it came. He could see the bridge it was a long ancient one stretching the length of the river if he could get across he'd have a chance they couldn't cross on their horses. Glancing over his shoulder both Wesley's were still there before he made it on the bridge. Bess's hooves clopped rapidly on the stone the cold spray of the rushing river whipping at the stone "GET AWAY GET AWAY!" Zachariah shouted raising the staff. Suddenly the sun vanished, he looked up to see rolling thunderclouds appear out of nowhere and the wind rising to churn the river, both John and Perrin or was it Marin, Zachariah wasn't sure. Thunder echoed and following was its brother a bolt of lightning shot down onto the bridge shaking the foundation. Zachariah saw stone go in every and the bridge beneath Bess with every step she took the rest behind them falling into the river. They cleared it just as the last stone fell into the bank and when the dust settled Zachariah stopped his heart beating out of his chest, magical energy spent he could see John and Perrin still on horse back shouting curses at him across the river he had to guess John was out of bullets now.
"I'm sorry… I'm so so sorry…" Zachariah said to them in a whisper turning Bess south in the direction of Piltover.
When the river we out of sight he neared the foot of the mountains the hills starting to grow steeped and steeper, Zachariah was trying to find a road or trail to take when he saw Bess had blood on her gray coat. "Bess." He says patting het following the blood trail up to his own right leg, shot twice in less than a day apart not off to a great start he thought. What followed next was a blur he fell forward against Bess's main the loss of blood now taking its toll like last time.
He had to hold on…
Get to Piltover…
Find… Vander
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Voices…. Different language…
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Bess neighing loudly….
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Someone's got Bess's reins, the smell of a burning oil….
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Someone was pulling him off his horse, hope Bess was okay he thought….
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"He's waking up, fetch the medic and the Commander." A voice said.
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….. Shapes came into view, the light of a dimly lit tent, Zachariah turned is head on a firm pillow looking around he was alone. Inside a red velvet tent there was a desk in the corner with a dagger on the table he looked around before realizing he was naked in the bed, looking for his clothes and more importantly his staff and grandpas ring. "Up and around I see." A voice said from the tent flap, walking in Zachariah saw the last thing he needed to see three Noxian soldiers all dressed in black armor with red tunics underneath. The lead one was an older soldier with graying dark hair, scars on his face and a seasoned look in his eye behind him stood two young men maybe only a few years older to then Zachariah but with all that muscle on them who could tell. One was more scar covered then the other dark black hair on each of their heads and looking at one to the other he could tell they were related brothers, maybe cousins? The less scarred one wore a headband around his forehead and has the beginnings of a mustache on his upper lil the other was clean shaven, a nose that looked like it had been broken and reset a hundred times. On closer inspection of their attire the one with the feint mustache wore less armor then his counterpart who looked like he was ready to charge head first into a wall of spears, their commanding officer wore finer armor riddled with marks and cuts showing he'd been tested "Well can you talk boy, do you speak or at least understand Noxian?"
Zachariah nodded at the officer "Good, I am Commander Cyrus of the Noxian imperial army these two are the ones who found you clinging to life on the back of that old warhorse smart old dog to bring you here, wouldn't you say Draven?" Commander Cyrus asked the one behind his left.
"I'll say I almost hurled my axe right at you." He said smiling jokingly, "Killing a bald dead boy very impressive." The other one said.
Zachariah felt his cold dark eyes on him a chill running up his spine "Don't mind Darius, he carried you back to our camp now what's a young mage like you doing so far out here, bleeding to death?" Commander Cyrus asked holding up the gold dragon ring.
He wanted to speak how could he, he was on the run, probably half of hamlet out trying to hunt him down for what he'd done to Clark and George, not to mention the Magehunters who'd be after him and to count it off he was in the middle of a Noxian army camp.
Without any pants no less.
Well now he's in, so much for a safe journey and a fond farewell, will Zachariah make it to Piltover or will he be aprisoner of the Noxian legions