Chapter 3
It had been a month. One that passed quickly for someone that had to work every day of his life to get buy. In that month, he had seen his mother only once more, and it was like looking into a whole different world and seeing a different woman. coming to his home, she sat in a regal, yet still simple carriage, and when she descended, Art could have cried to see her, she was happy. having worn a soft white and blue dress, that flowed behind her when she walked, her hair, Art saw was freshly washed and she had the scent of roses coming off her. that visit was a short one, but she had let him know about his siblings. Isabella was doing great, learning her magick, she was on the way to being a master healer they had told mother. Lishea, was moving on to better things as her teaching in their home town was nearing completion, she would be taking a trek to one of the major cities and from there she would learn more skill and learn more about her gift then what could be taught at home, and Art's little brother Marco, was trying desperately to manifest, so desperately that he was doing stunts that would cause his gift if he had one to manifest to save him. finding they were all great, his mother had told him about all she got to do now, and how much happier she was.. deep down a pang of longing ache, but the rest of him was happy that she was happy. after she commented how happy she was about him wearing her gift, there time was over and she was heading back, while Art was heading to the fields to tend to his few animals before it was back to the stables, the story of his life. nearing the end of the second month since his family had all moved within the wall, Art was becoming worried, he had heard nothing from his mother, not so much as a letter.. normally, it would worry him, but something in the back of his mind, something was troubling him and he didn't know what. at times he would find himself staring at the wall, and his mind working over how he could sneak into the city, the best way to go, how the guards rotation was, and when and what time the best was to sneak in, thing that Art had no idea how he knew, he knew it, just like he knew that he wouldn't get caught if he went into the city, something in the back of his mind told him all this.. as well as he needed to get into that city. as the days passed, the feeling started to grow, clawing its way into his thoughts constantly now, it was making him short and angry with people that questioned him the longer he tried to ignore it, the more it came.. it wasn't long before it actually started making him sick to his stomach, unable to hold down food it was bad, that finally when he couldn't stand it any longer, he decided to take the chance and be the first person to ever sneak their way into the walled city, and into the land where magic roamed freely.
Standing in the darkness, shrouded in a dark grey cloak, one that he had spent his money to buy leaving him with two copper pieces left he watched the darkness, for the first time greatful that he could see perfectly, for if he couldn't his plan to sneak in wouldn't have worked as he wouldn't be able to see the nightly delivery of hay to the stables on the inside. how he did it, he still had no idea, but he knew exactly how to get in, and it all started with the wagon stuff to over flowing with hay. waiting til it passed, and with a burst of speed, Art ran up behind it, taking a silent leap, he would pull himself up onto the back, making little noise as he wormed and wiggled his way into the hay, his body crawling down til he was at the bottom, touching the wood of the wagon, he would shift a bit, his left leg would lay flat and outward bent slightly at the knee, while his right was straight out. if that wasn't an odd way, his arms were over his head, and his back was slightly bent, and yet he knew, instinctually he needed to lay just like that, and the reason would come soon enough. the wagon and its owner were stopped at the wall, this side of the city, this particular gate was for deliveries, used only for that purpose.. Art's breathing was slow, as he heard the guards questioning the wagon's owner, before the crunch of boots on gravel made Art stiffen, even holding his breath as he felt the wagon shift, something or more then likely someone heavy had climbed on to it. nothing could have prepared Art for what happened next, as the resounding sing of a blade being drawn from his sheath filled the air, moments later he felt something pass right by his leg, he didn't know what yet, but he felt it touch gently against his left arm, then his right, not hitting him, just barely grazing passed his limbs. it was only when whatever was prodding the hay he was under slide down and thudded right beside his face, inches away from his cheek he saw that it was a sword. his eyes widened as it withdrew, the weight on the wagon was gone, and the jerk forward that told Art they were moving again, but his mind was on what he knew or guessed. a soldier had climbed onto the wagon and was stabbing the hay, checking for Hidden Stowaways no doubt and what was even more disconcerting, was that Art had somehow known how to lay his body so that the blade would pass through the hay with ease as well as missing him. still thinking on what was going on, he sat up after the wagon had been stopped for a while, and looked around. it was the first time he had seen inside the wall, into the land of magic users and yet it looked no different. the houses he was beside, even the stable he was parked in looked simular in design to their counterparts outside the wall. climbing out of the wagon, he would quickly remove the stray Stalks of hay before tossing his cloaks hood up, and turning away from the stable darting down the nearest ally, heading deeper into the unknowns of the inner city, being lead by a deep, longing desire to find his mother and to do it fast. the night was dragging on, and for Art the feeling in his stomach, the sickness in it was becoming worse and worse, pushing him forward whenever he thought about turning back, that his mother was fine and just lost touch with him. Deep down he knew that was true, she would never forget him, something was wrong and this feeling he had, this urge to find her had led him to break into the inner city and was presently leading him down the streets quietly. his mother had told him the location of their home during her short, last visit, and it was that and his instinct that was pulling him forward. he managed to slip past guards with ease, knowing how, and seeing in the dark where to go, he moved like a wrath in the night, his cloak billowing behind him as he ran. the deeper into the city, Art could see that the inner city was different, the closer to the center, the more lavish the houses and shops became, it wasn't long before he found himself outside a tailors shop, and looking inside he could see the various clothing hanging up as examples to show the never ending patrons that blessed the shop on the daily basis. it was when Art rounded a corner, that he knew he had been caught, causing him to quickly duck back around the corner, and press against the wall tightly. on the street, in perfect formation were ten city guards, each on holding a long pike, dressed in armor and a sword on their hips. Art closed his eyes, he had ignored himself, he knew now that whatever was drawing him on, had been warning him, but he ignored it and as a result, he was caught, cause everyone of the men had looked dead at him when he came around. "Come out now!" the barked order came. "we all saw you, no use in running" the voice said, getting closer. Art silently cursed himself as he looked around franticly, searching for something that would stand out in his mind, something that would pull him in that direction to save himself, and yet nothing was coming, the knowledge and the mental acuity were gone, and yet the pain in his stomach from the desire was still ever so present. the sound of plated boots on stone was getting even closer, and just when Art knew he was done, something clicked inside his head, and a warmth started spreading through him, originating from his wrist, gazing down, he saw the ruby stone was glowing, dully but glowing.. the odd part was that the hand that it was around was gone, and spreading upward his arm was following along the same, as it too was vanishing. Art started to panic as the warmth flowed all over him, his body becoming completely transparent, showing nothing but the wall he was against. he watched a torch appear around the corner, followed closely by the owner of the demanding voice. the man, was an older gentleman who sported a greying beard on his chin as he looked down the supposed empty ally, at the other end, two men appear, swords drawn. "anything?" the one asked, the two soldiers shook their heads, while Art, shocked beyond belief remained plastered to the wall, watching the old soldier walk past him. "tell the men to do a wide search, he must have slipped away before you got around, doesn't matter, we'll find him" the two would nod, and take off, while the old man put out the torch, and turning he walked away, following after his men. Art couldn't move, his mind was in overload to what had happened, that he couldn't process that he needed to move, he didn't even feel the pain in his stomach for the first time since it came as he was just numb. he changed a look down at himself, and sure enough, the ruby gem on his wristband started glowing again, and this time a coldness, starting at his hand would spread over him, and his body would become visible again, as if someone poured water over him, the invisibility rippled. pushing off the wall, he started to gasp, his hand tossed back his hood as he ran his hands through it, his mind working it out, but unable to believe it, that he.. Arturo Gleeson, bastard son of no one, had manifested and that his skill, his very magick was Invisibility. he was pacing back and forth, wrapping his head about what all that meant, when his stomach decided it would twist, as the pain from it doubled him over, right at the same time the scream filled the night air. on his feet, and moving around the corner, driven now by his own will as Art had heard that scream before, it was his mothers. shouldering his way into two guards that had stayed behind, Art sped down the road, unaware they were coming in behind him, ordering him to stop, but he couldn't hear, all he heard was his mother's scream. people were waking up from hearing it as well, and they were moving from their homes to see, but that didn't slow art, he bumped and knocked into people with force, as he sped past, it was when he saw the blaze of fire covering the house, that made his heart stop.. the position of the house, the location next to a bakery, that his mother said smell of fresh bread every morning, Art stared at the burning house of his family.. the next scream that pierce the air was his, as he saw movement through a window on the second floor, causing him to rush toward the door, ignoring all thoughts of safety as well as the call of the onlookers, as he burst through the burning door, stumbling, he looked around.. the flames were all over the place, their touch leaving the black death of scorch on everything. "Mother!" he cried out, as he stumbled through the house. in that moment, a man in control of his emotions would notice things, like while the whole house was on fire, there should have been massive amounts of heat, and yet Art wasn't effected by heat at all or that when he walked past a burning wall or table during his search, the flames licked against him, burning his clothes, but leaving his skin untouched, sadly Art noticed none of this as he moved through the house, rushing up the burning stairs, only to have them collapse in a burning heap behind him, he moved toward the hall, and kicked open the nearest door, and he nearly gagged, having to turn his head as he saw the charred body of his brother, laying in the remains of the bed, unable to break down, Art went to the next door, and was about to kick it open, when it exploded outward in a shower of flaming debris. Art staggered, his back slamming against the wall, his clothes burning off, leaving him in patched pants, his cloak and shirt burning off him in tattered pieces of Ash. he rushed into the room, seeing that a window was broken, smoke was flowing out of it, but what caught his sight was his mother, laying on the floor beside her bed.. "MOTHER!" he said, tears falling from his eyes as he took her in his arms, holding her as he stood and looked around. he remembered the stairs, they were no use.. his gaze fell to the window, and without thinking, he tore off toward it, just as a burning timber from the roof would drop, right where he had been. it was a quick feeling of being weightless as he jumped from the window, holding his mother to his chest his body would spin around, and then there was nothing but a thud, his head smacking the ground, causing him to groan and start to see twinkling stars before his eyes, and a wet feeling spreading through his hair. none of that matter, as he rolled over, and laid his mother down, taking her hand. "mother, please open your eyes" he said, the tears coming again, his vision blurring as he touched her face with his other hand, she wouldn't stir. "Mother please" he pleaded, not caring of the people that were crowding around him, whispered or hushed words being said between them but he didn't care, all that mattered was the woman, who had birthed him, did the best she could to raise him was laying there before him, dead. Art leaned against her soot covered chest and cried, tears that refused to come when he was little finally found purchase on something that would free them. he cried and cried, holding the woman he loved in his arms begging her to move even though he knew she never would again. the pain his stomach and the pull in his mind faded away, and was replaced for a second of rage as Art raised up, and staring up into the sky let out a primal howl, the fires of the house behind him, picked up with a force, blazing with new life while he howled before Art collapsed against the ground, blood seeping from the back of his head freely as unconsciousness claimed him.