The magical journey of a countryside boy

William looks up to see the same sophisticated man he met back at City Hall sitting on the edge of the table. He holds an open book, a look of quiet amusement on his face.

​“What is… this?” William looks around, taking in the surprisingly massive room. It feels far more like a grand bookstore than a tent, lined with tall cabinets packed with leather-bound books and smelling faintly of fresh ink and wild blossoms.

​’How can a tent be this big on the inside? Could it be…’

His thoughts are cut short by the answer he has been desperately seeking for half his life.

“You are right,” the man replies, his amused smile widening. “It is the magic you were looking for.”

William’s heart skips a beat. For six years, magic was nothing more than a distant, burning memory—an impossible goal he had chased blindly. Hearing it spoken of so casually sends a cold shiver down his spine.

He stares at the man, his breath catching in his throat as a hundred questions race through his mind. He tries to speak, but his jaw simply works in silence. His hands, still clutching the two apples, twitch as he finally musters the courage to ask in a trembling voice, “Who… are you?”

“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?” The man smiles and stands straight, adopting an impeccable, formal posture. “I am the thirty-fourth member of the Royal Family, Count of the Empire, Professor of Magic Theory at the Royal Academy of Krassius, and a Fifth-Tier Mage—Maximus Albert Krassius. Or simply... ‘the Coward.’”

William’s eyes widen in sheer surprise and horror.

​’Royalty... Count... Magic Academy... Fifth-Tier Mage... and The Coward?’

​Any single one of those titles would terrify anyone William knows. Combined, the man sounds more like a figure out of legend than a living person. Yet here he stands, wearing the very same amused expression he had when William first stepped inside.

Maximus flicks his wrist. A sudden, crisp breeze sweeps through the room, washing over William’s face and soothing his racing thoughts.

Mustering every remaining drop of courage, William asks, “What does… all of this mean?”

“It means a lot of things. But for you, kid—” Maximus leans forward, locking his gaze directly onto William’s eyes—“it means you’re going to the Royal Academy to learn magic.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The words send a sudden, violent shock through William’s mind. ​’To learn magic? The Royal Academy? Is this real, or am I dreaming?’

Before William can process it, Maximus says, “It is real. If you want proof—”

He puts down the book in his hand on the table and raises a single hand. From his palm, a bird made of vivid fire bursts into existence. It circles the vast room before diving straight into the candle flame on the table, which flares brightly and casts a deep, warm glow across William’s face.

William tracks every movement of the fire bird circling the library with his heart pounding. It isn’t a trick or sleight of hand—it is genuine, undeniable magic, just like what he saw years ago.

Taking a moment to regain his footing, William forces out the lingering questions in his mind. “Why me? And... How did you make me come into this tent?” He pauses, his eyes narrowing as another realization strikes. “When I entered, you said ‘another one.’ Does that mean there are others?”

Maximus’s eyes widens in genuine surprise. “Well now, you are remarkably sharp for a boy your age. Nobody else dared to ask me any questions. You remind me of someone I know.”

William instinctively steps back, suddenly acutely aware of the massive gap between a commoner and a royal count.

Before panic can take hold, Maximus smiles, unbothered by the boy’s breach of posture.

“Let me answer the simpler question first,” Maximus continues with a light chuckle. “Yes, there are other kids. We can hardly teach a single student and call it an academy.”

His tone shifts to something far more intriguing. “As for why you—it’s simple. You possess the talent to learn magic. Or, more accurately, you fulfill every condition required to harness it. Which brings us to the real question: how did I bring you here?”

Maximus tilts his head. “Surely you noticed something unusual on your journey? An unexpected commission that brought you to Bruges... a sudden delay that nudged you down a street you never intended to take... or a minor inconvenience that held you up just long enough?”

​The realization hits William like a physical blow. ’The commission from City Hall... the spilled cargo blocking the street... Betty’s stubbornness for apples... even the cart wheel stuck in the pothole…’

Cold dread pools in his stomach. Was all of it orchestrated just to steer me into this alley? Is this what magic can do?

“How did you… do that?” William asks, his awe completely devoured by fear.

Seeing the genuine horror in the boy’s eyes, Maximus’s smile fades. He holds up his hands peacefully.

“Oh, no, no,” Maximus says gently. “I am not nearly capable of something on that scale.” He falls silent for a second, his expression turning thoughtful. “As for what it is? It is one of the biggest secrets of the empire. Even I don’t know much about it.”

William tries to calm his racing pulse and digest everything that has happened. He aches to ask a dozen more questions, but his mind feels stretched to its limit, unable to process another shock. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow, deep breaths.

Maximus breaks the silence and picks out a parchment, dipping the quill into inkwell ,staring down at him with a cold gaze as his playful aura from before was just William’s imagination “So, now that your questions are answered, let us proceed with the standard procedure.”

William desperately wants to keep talking about magic, but as he meets the count’s sharp gaze,A realization enter his mind that he has likely exhausted his leeway. Pressing any further would be detrimental for him.