A/N: "To my dear readers of 'The Morganian Leader' fanfic, you probably are aware that Alfred Molina is about a decade older than Nicolas Cage, (or at least that's what I found out on the Net). But then, in the universe of The Sorcerer's Apprentice 2010 movie, it would seem as though Horvath isn't that old compared to Balthazar. For the sake of my fanfic, and after considering those that are mentioned, I have decided to shorten that age gap for about, say, four years. So yeah, Horvath would be four years older than Balthazar in this fan fiction. As always, enjoy and review."
~ sankage )
- Chapter 4 -
"Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends."
~Richard Bach
Why keep an eye on a little brother who doesn't want to stay in one spot, or even on three stallions that wouldn't even think of leaving their spot, when there were two beautiful young ladies willing to flirt with you? Well, that was what Bartholomew Blake had in mind, as he once again got the chance to put his charms to a test.
Bartholomew, was the second son to Sir Frederick Crispin Blake and Lady Nicolette. Among the Blake Brothers, he was the one known for his popularity among the women. It all started when he turned fifteen that the teenager realized he had a 'gift' concerning women. Ever since that day, when young women hears the name 'Bartholomew Blake', image of a young and very handsome teen who'd sweep you off your feet even just by looking at you with his puppy-dog eyes, immediately comes to mind. And so within two years, at the age of seventeen, Bartholomew had become the center of insecurity among husbands, and the center of anxiety among over-protective fathers who have daughters beginning to engage into sexual fantasies about the very charming, young noble from the Blake family.
From the house of de Clare's stepped out a dark-blond haired young man, about twenty years of age, who then approached the teenager still flirting with a red-hair and a brunette. His expressions were a mixture of slight anger, a touch of disappointment, and a pinch of incredulity.
"Bartholomew, what are you doing?" the young man asked.
The teen looked up from where he was currently whispering something into the red-hair's ear.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" replied Bartholomew, completely turning to face the newly arrived. "Come now, Benjamin, it has been two years. You're still not use to me? You're own brother?"
Benjamin Cedrick Blake, the eldest of the Blake Brothers. He was like the junior among the three, the one who'd become the next 'Sir Blake'. He was determined, and it was his only dream in life, that he follows under the footsteps of his father; in becoming a valiant knight, serving the crown with all loyalty and without questions. On his twenty-first birthday, Benjamin would be knighted and he would have to start from there. His had a handsome face to look upon but not very much like his brothers, although his broad shoulders were hard not to notice all the same. The real difference between him and his brother, was that Benjamin had inherited their father's interest on jousting, the sword dueling, the competitions. And although most, if not all, of the Blake's were known for their swordsmanship, Benjamin had more potential, more talent, on jousting.
"I was referring to the fact that Balthazar is nowhere near here," said Benjamin, waving a hand around the surroundings, indicating what he meant.
Ah, yes, Balthazar Blake, the youngest of the brothers. Young, active, a good linguistic, but was rather...friend-less. A lonesome, he was rather shy, and was having trouble fitting in with the other children of the nobles. No one knows exactly why the boy was like that, but despite those things about the lad, he could be cheerful at times. Yet still, his parents would at least be very thankful, and more at ease, if their son could have just even one...single...friend.
"He went off to the market or somewhere," said Bartholomew flippantly. "He said he wanted to buy something."
Shaking his head and resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Benjamin took possession of all three horses, gave his brother a serious look, and said, "Mount your horse and tag along with you Balthazar's horse all the same. We are to look for him, then we continue."
Bartholomew sighed and turned to face the two young ladies once more.
"Alas, ladies, I must go. So many things to do, and oh so little time," he said and flashed a charming smile to the two. "I only look forward to the day we see each other again. All three of us."
With that, Bartholomew kissed both women's hand, went off to mount his horse, and rode along with his brother. The two young ladies were still giggling even until the brothers were already out of sight.
That day was a day of celebration for the Blake's, as the lady of the house was to celebrate her birthday. While the servants busied themselves for the preparations at home, Sir Frederick took his wife for a picnic where they had their first kiss. Their sons were also busy in inviting a few of the closest friends of the family. But along the way, as the brothers stopped by at the residence of Sir Hubert de Clare, the youngest of the brothers went off to go alone to the local bookstore, which was being run by someone called Mr. Godfrey.
Balthazar had actually became one of the most regular costumers in the bookstore. The old keeper, Mr. Godfrey, was pleased with such a young lad having interest in books. That day, Balthazar didn't looked around the shelves just for his usual random search, he asked for a particular book, saying that he was to give it as a gift to someone very dear. Who was his mother in particular.
"Here you are, young lord Blake," said Godfrey, retrieving a book held in one hand. "You certain your mother would really love to read this book?"
"We share one common thing, Mister Godfrey," replied the lad. "A common taste on books."
The old keeper chuckled and handed the book over to the lad who had both hands stretched out. "Very well, lord Blake. The book would only cost thirty gold pieces."
After saying thank you, and not forgetting saying his goodbyes, Balthazar went out of the bookstore, smiling, more to himself, as he gazed down on the book in his hands. He was certain that his mother would love the book. It was like what he said to the old keeper, he and his mother shared a common taste in books. Besides, he had observed how bored his mother could get at times. She would usually read book in their own library, back at their home, but she had read almost all of the books. She became bored reading the same books all over again, that Balthazar thought the best gift to give to his mother, was a new book to read. He once thought that if he had enough money, he'd buy her more new books. And if the books doesn't work, he'd keep her company. Yes. Perhaps just his company would be enough.
So as Balthazar kept his gaze down on the book he was holding, he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. He eventually stopped when he realized he bumped into someone. That was the moment he thought best that he should put more attention on the road.
"So sorry, sir. I wasn't looking," Balthazar apologized. When he looked up, he didn't quite liked what he saw.
"Hello Balthazar. Where you heading, eh?"
"No," whispered Balthazar to himself. "Ulrich."
If Balthazar ever had reasons why he had trouble fitting in with other children of the nobles, and actually failing to make friends, one of those reasons could be Ulrich Warwick. A living nightmare in Balthazar's life since he was six.
Ulrich and his followers, Gregory and Wiliford, had bullied and picked on Balthazar for a reason that Balthazar himself wasn't aware of. Whatever the reason was, in all those three years, Balthazar repeatedly asked himself the question: 'Why me?'
"What's this we have here?" asked Ulrich, referring to the book Balthazar had in his hands. When Ulrich made off in taking the book, Balthazar quickly held it back, his grip tightening.
"Sentimentality, Balthazar?" Ulrich asked again.
"Please, Ulrich, not today," said Balthazar, shaking his head.
"But why not today? Come, now we best talk over there." Ulrich placed an arm around Balthazar's shoulders, as he led the blond-haired boy into a particular alley, across the market. Gregory and Wiliford were following just behind.
Wiliford, a red-hair and freckled-face lad, was too busy sniggering to himself, having complete knowledge what Ulrich may have in mind for the poor Balthazar, that he didn't almost notice the dark-haired boy, searching around a nearby apple stand as though intending to buy an apple. Wiliford bumped into the dark-haired boy, and it didn't sat quite well with him.
"Watch it! The street ain't wide enough for you?" said Wiliford, glaring at the boy.
As the red-hair walked on to catch up with his companions, he completely missed the venomous look the boy he ran into gave him. Although the boy had his left hand on the blue-jeweled hilt of his sword, he didn't think drawing it out would be wise on his side, and decided to ignore Wiliford.
Meanwhile, Balthazar found himself being shoved back hard towards a wall. He still held the book close to him and looked on, waiting for what Ulrich may do. And yet, another part of him was praying that someone might see them and would actually be some hero who'd help him.
"Get that book off him!" commanded Ulrich, his words directed to any one of his companions, but it was Gregory who took it in action.
Balthazar tried to struggle for the possession of his gift for his mother, but to no avail. Gregory was able to take the book by force, and stowed it on his waistband.
"We haven't forgotten what you did last time," Ulrich spoke again, making a cracking sound with both his clenched fists.
"Ulrich, please," pleaded Balthazar hopelessly, but before he could say more, he was cut off by Ulrich.
"What do you reckon he did again, Will?" asked Ulrich, his question directed to Wiliford.
"He told your father about us peeking on Lady Cristabel while she's trying to get dressed," answered the freckled-face.
"But it was true!" said Balthazar, defending himself. "I saw the three of you."
"You're missing the point here," said Ulrich in between clenched teeth, slapping Balthazar on the back of the head. "Do you have any idea what my father made me do for an entire week, you nosey little blighter?"
"What about what my father made me do?" chimed in Wiliford.
"What about mine?" said Gregory, sharing in his own part.
"All three of us!' declared Ulrich, extending both his hands to his side, indicating to Wiliford, Gregory, and himself. "We simply want revenge."
His heart pounded harder within his chest, but Balthazar had something more to fear than just himself. No. He wasn't thinking about himself at the moment.
"Please," Balthazar tried again, "I just want the book back."
Ulrich's expression showed disbelief and confusion. "You worry more about a book more than yourself?"
"It's a gift for my mother," answered Balthazar, his words were truthful and from the heart. "Do as you want with me, just...let me have the book back afterwards."
Ulrich was laughing to himself. He was amused on what Balthazar had said.
"Good. Then we won't have much trouble on this," Ulrich said.
"Just, make it quick," said Balthazar, trying to brace himself.
"Hold him, boys," ordered Ulrich to his two assistants.
Gregory and Wiliford took hold of Balthazar's arms, as Ulrich closed in.
"We know your brothers are just around," whispered Ulrich into Balthazar's ear. "We'd be making it much quicker than you think. But your mistaken if we won't make it a little less painful."
Both Gregory and Wiliford sniggered, as Ulrich pulled away, making cracking sounds from his clenched fists. He took hold of Balthazar's well-ornamented shirt with one hand and raised his other hand, closed in a fist, ready to make for the blow. But before Ulrich could even bring down a blow to Balthazar, a half-eaten apple hit Ulrich on the head. All four lads turned their heads towards the dark-haired boy at the end of the alley.
"Sorry. I couldn't help but notice you from back there."
It was young Maxim Horvath himself. He didn't quite liked what Ulrich was doing, and so he thought best to interfere.
"Who is this?" asked Ulrich, more to himself. He then faced Balthazar. "Friend of yours?"
The blond boy shook his head vehemently.
"This is none of your business, tubby," said Ulrich, his words directed to Maxim.
Twirling around to see if there was anyone behind him, Maxim scowled at Ulrich.
"Are you addressing me?" asked Maxim. He was offended. He knew he's a little chubby, but addressing him 'tubby'? That was going too far when describing him.
"Get rid of this pig, Gregory" ordered Ulrich, ignoring the glare Maxim gave him.
As Gregory walked towards Maxim, he was stopped by a hand from the thirteen-year-old. When Maxim extended his index finger and glowered, Gregory had to stop himself from shivering as he took a step or two back.
"You," said Maxim, he was directing it to Balthazar, "these are your friends?"
Balthazar shook his head.
"They're here to hurt you?" Maxim asked again. When the blond nodded, Maxim knew what to do. He took a step back then ran his right hand towards his sword. "Then we have a problem."
Smiling, Ulrich stepped away from Balthazar, drawing out his own sword. "This is good. I'd love a challenge."
Wiliford stepped back himself, just to be safe. It wasn't like Ulrich had the guts to kill anyone, it was just that each time Ulrich draws his sword, people never fail to see just what most lads fear about him.
Drawing out his sword, back-handedly, Maxim took a quick glance at the teen behind him, then back to Ulrich and the freckled-face. By looks of it, all three boys were actually a little older than himself. Meanwhile, Ulrich was looking intently on how Maxim was holding the blue-jeweled sword. The hilt was atop while the blade was downwards.
"Do you even know how to handle a sword?" asked Ulrich.
Maxim held his sword a little higher, and said, "You'd be surprise how I handle this."
Silence...
Another quick glance to Gregory, and another cautious look to the other two in front of him, Maxim was unsure, but he'd always think of something. Suddenly, he looked up, as though looking for something there. All three teen looked up to the same direction, but Balthazar kept his eyes on Maxim.
A quick thump of a heart beat...two...three...
Maxim swung around and kicked Gregory on the stomach. The moment he turned to face Ulrich and Wiliford, he used his sword to send both teens flying towards the wall at the other side. Not one of his best plans, but Maxim had to do something. He then quickly took Balthazar by the hand and led the boy out of the alley. Ulrich and the others won't take long to recover, so the best possible option at the moment was to run. Apprentice for a week couldn't be good enough. There are only a few spells Maxim knows, and most of it he was still in the process of trying to perfect.
"Wait!" called Balthazar over the shoulders of the taller lad. "My book!"
"You see them chasing after us from back there?" asked Maxim, trying to find another way out of the streets.
Balthazar took a quick glance at his back. He caught sight of Ulrich and the others squeezing their way though the crowd, but they were at least at a good enough distance.
"Yes, they are!" said Balthazar, looking back up to Maxim.
"Good. We'll lure them somewhere, and then we get your book back," was Maxim's reply.
"You have a plan?" asked the blond, hopeful. But he doubted whether there was even a plan after all when he met Maxim's eyes. "You don't have a plan, do you?"
Maxim sighed, his expressions a little sheepish. So much for being careful. "I'll think of something."
The two made a sharp turn at an alley but it turned out to be a dead end. They skidded into a halt then turned to run again and find another way out, but Ulrich and the others had already reached them. They were trapped.
As Balthazar stood behind Maxim, for the very first time, he somehow felt safe, even with the presence of Ulrich. For the very first time, although he was still afraid, he wasn't shaking at the sight of Ulrich Warwick. All because there was this dark-haired boy who somehow stood up for him. On the other hand, said dark-haired boy was in the middle of trying to find a way out of the mess. He could use about any kind of spell that he knows, but he needed only one. Anything! Plasma bolts won't be a good idea. These are mere humans and not sorcerers, it won't be necessary. Killing them was not an option. So perhaps, scaring them would do?
All of a sudden, Maxim caught sight of two stray cats fighting over some food. An idea then popped out in his head. He looked down on the blond boy still standing behind him and asked, "You know how to pray?"
The blond boy looked up. "Yes, my parents taught me. Why?"
Holding up his glowing sword, Maxim looked back to the approaching angry teens and said, "Then pray that whatever it is I'm thinking works."
When Ulrich and the others got about eight feet away, Maxim quickly cast a transformation spell towards the cats, turning both felines into matured male lions. When the transformation was complete, the two lions snapped their heads towards Ulrich and his friends, and with a jerk of a head from Maxim, the lions easily cornered the three terrified teens to the wall, with a little persuasive help of gritted sharp teeth, and low growls.
"Gentlemen!" said Maxim to the three, approaching them, his smile was not friendly. "Since at the moment I have your full attention, I believe you owe someone an apology."
Maxim signaled a hand for Balthazar to join him.
"Apologize."
All three teens apologized, talking at the same time. Their words were only noise, none of which made sense in both Maxim and Balthazar's ears. Although there was a particular phrase that at least made sense: 'We're sorry!'
Sighing, Maxim looked down on Balthazar. "It isn't much, but, do you accept their apology?"
Balthazar nodded. "Yes, I accept."
"Very well." Maxim then turned his attention to Ulrich. "My turn. I want you to apologize to me."
Ulrich made a face of incredulity. "What?"
"You insulted me twice," answered the thirteen-year-old apprentice. "One for calling me 'tubby'. Two for calling me 'pig'."
"I will not apologize to you, commoner!" said Ulrich firmly.
"Oh?" Maxim raised a brow. "That's a shame." His sword glowed once again, as the lion on his right roared at Ulrich.
"Alright, alright!" shouted Ulrich, getting the lion's point. "I ask your forgiveness all the same!'
"And the book?" asked Maxim.
Gregory fumbled with the book still stowed to his waistband. "Here! Just please take it!"
The book flew away from Gregory's hand to Maxim's, then it was handed over to Balthazar, who was relived in having it returned to him without a scratch.
"Now," Maxim started, he wasn't ready to let go of Ulrich an the others yet, "before I let you go I have a few more things to say."
He indicated his sword to the three teens backed up to the wall, from left to right. "I don't know who you three are, nor do I know where each of you lives. But believe me, you wouldn't want for me to know that."
Maxim's expressions turned serious. His eyes revealing malice. Great and utter malice.
"Because if I ever had such information and I find out you're picking on him again," he jerked a head towards Balthazar, "I promise you, I will be your worse...possible...living...nightmare. Am I understood on that?"
All three teens nodded their heads. A fast, continues movement that went on for eight seconds.
"Now...run," said Maxim between clenched teeth.
Ulrich and the others ran as fast as they could, not even risking to look back, just as Maxim transformed the lions back into their stray-cats form.
"Sorry about that," apologized Maxim to the cats, watching the felines went scurrying off to somewhere else. He looked back to the blond-haired boy. "You alright?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," answered Balthazar. "You were amazing."
"Oh." Maxim flashed a smile. "Thank you. It took me three days to perfect that spell."
"Are you a sorcerer?" asked Balthazar, finally standing within two feet away from Maxim.
"In training," answered the older lad. "I'm still just an apprentice...For a week."
"For just a week's training, you're pretty good." Balthazar really meant what he said. He had never seen a sorcerer, even a sorcerer's apprentice, in action before.
"Well, I would have got out of it even without magic," said Maxim, not certain himself if he was boasting. "I've been in and out of trouble since I was ten."
Balthazar glanced down on his feet for a brief moment, smiling to himself, before looking back up to Maxim and said, "Really? Well I'm nine. And they've been bullying me since I was six."
Maxim only nodded, silently mouthing an 'ah'.
"I'm sorry," Balthazar suddenly said, "I've completely forgotten about formalities." He held out a hand to the much taller boy. "I'm Balthazar Blake."
Sheathing back his sword, Maxim took hold of Balthazar's hand. "Maxim Horvath." Then for a moment, after retracting his hand, he considered the younger lad. "Aren't you one of the Blake Brothers?"
"Oh, so you've heard about my brothers and me, huh?" And speaking of brothers, Balthazar remembered why he was even out in town in the first place. He slapped himself on the head. "Oh no! My brothers! I've been gone for too long! They must me looking for me now."
"So you weren't alone?" asked Maxim, but Balthazar was already on the run.
"Forgive me, but I must go," called out Balthazar over his shoulders. But he suddenly skidded into a halt, then turned back to Maxim, one more time. "I don't think we'd see each other again after this. Which is really a shame."
The blond boy's expressions was suddenly turned saddened, that Maxim couldn't help but look confused.
"I...really want us to be friends, Maxim Horvath," said Balthazar, taking in the few spaces between Maxim and him, but only a few steps away. "I never had real friends."
Everything about Maxim's expressions softened from what Balthazar said, then the blond turned to leave once again...
"Wait! Balthazar!" called out Maxim. The boy once again turned to face him. "We do live in the same country, don't we?"
"Yes," said Balthazar, nodding.
"Then, who knows? We might ran into each other again," said Maxim, not really certain of what he was saying, or why he was even saying it. "But in a more pleasing circumstance than of moments ago."
Balthazar's eyes lighted up. "You really think so?"
Maxim shrugged. "They say that when friends part, they always meet again."
"Friends?" repeated Balthazar, almost not believing what he heard.
"We are friends," said Maxim, holding out a hand to Balthazar. "Are we not?"
Balthazar shook hands with Maxim, a broad smile plastered across his face, saying, "Yes! Friends! We're friends!" After Balthazar was able to retract his hand, he said his goodbyes, with the words, "So, I'll be seeing you again...Maxim."
Maxim returned a broad smile of his own, and replied with, "You best count on that...Balthazar."
And so there they were, Balthazar went off to find his brothers, while Maxim went to the other side, thinking that it was about time to go back to Merlin's castle. These two shall meet again, for about after a year, where the true foundation of their friendship shall grow, and shall be tested with time. Sad to think though, that no matter how long they become the best of friends, their bond has a dark future awaiting. A bond of friendship destined to crumble...because of love.