Darren of Wayside

DARREN OF WAYSIDE

“Uncle Lehman!  What happened?” Darren cried out as his uncle stumbled through the door into the hut where they lived.  Only three bare rooms with a wooden plank floor, it was the only home Darren had ever had.  The hut sat in the center of a small clearing in the forest.  His uncle, Lehman Oakstaff, had taken him in when he was just a toddler.  Superstitious villagers had killed his parents as sorcerers and would have killed Darren if Lehman had not protected him.
         “They took me by treachery, boy.  There were about a dozen of them.  They told me they needed help raising a new barn for Laban Stiller.”  Lehman grimaced in pain as he collapsed onto his bed.
         Darren grabbed bandages and put a pan of water on the wood stove.  He visualized the flames leaping higher in the stove as he threw another log onto the embers of the morning’s fire.  The flames flashed higher as the fire took the log.  In less than a minute, steam was rising from the simmering water.  Darren grabbed the pan and bandages and ran to Lehman’s side.
         “No time for that, boy,”  Lehman gasped.  “I got away from them, but they’ll be here in a few minutes.  Grab your pack and get away from here.”
         “Uncle, I can’t leave you by yourself.”  Darren protested as he wiped the blood from Lehman’s face and head.
         “Darren, you have to save yourself.  We’ve already planned for this.  Besides, I’m hurt inside.  I barely made it home to warn you,” Lehman whispered.  “Don’t let this push you over, boy.  Just get away from here.  Go east.  You’ll find people over there who aren’t afraid of you.  They can help you learn balance and control.  I’ve tried to keep you centered, boy, but I’m dying.  If you can get to them, look for the Oakstaff clan.  They’re kin, and they will take you in.”
         Darren jumped up, startled by sudden pounding on the thick wooden door.  “Who’s there?” he shouted as he grabbed for his staff.
         “Darren, it’s me, Reyna.  They’re coming for you.  I heard them in the village.  They’re getting a mob together and coming to burn you out and kill you and Lehman.  You have to get away!” she shouted in terror.
         He threw open the door and pulled her in.  “They won’t find me that easy a target,” he growled in anger.  “Help Lehman.  I’ll watch for them.”  He began to focus his anger on the end of his heavy oak staff.  He visualized clouds piling up overhead, building icestones and whirling them around faster and faster.
         “No, Darren!” Lehman shouted.  “You must not use your powers to kill!  It will ruin you!”
         “I’m not going to deliberately kill anyone, Uncle, but I’m not going to let them kill you or Reyna either.”  Darren answered.  The clouds were ready.  He allowed the icestones to drop a little lower but kept them whirling ever faster as he watched for the mob.  He could hear them shouting as they came closer.
         “Darren, he’s dead,” Reyna sobbed.  Darren whirled around and saw Lehman’s eyes, wide open but unseeing and glazed over.  “They’ll pay for this,” he snarled as he turned back to the door.  He stepped out on the porch as he heard the shouting men crowding into the yard.
         “Lehman, come out!” someone shouted.  “We’ve had enough of you wizards.”
         “He’s dead,” Darren growled.  He was only sixteen, but already grown larger than any of the villagers.  He stood more than six feet tall and could lift a sack of feed with each arm.  The villagers feared his size and great strength and would only confront him as a mob.  They crowded closer together, uneasy because of his anger and the building thunderstorm.
         “Boy, you leave now and we won’t hurt you.  You don’t scare us.  We don’t intend to let the devil’s spawn live in our town.”  The voice came from someone deep in the crowd and Darren could not tell who had spoken. 
         “You make a nice target, all gathered together like that.” Darren raised his staff and pointed to the sky.  Suddenly, he brought his arm down, pointing his staff at the mob and releasing the icestones to fall straight down.  With no other warning, icestones began to rain down on the crowd.  Some of the stones were so big they must have weighed two or three pounds.  The men began screaming in pain and fear as the icestones hit them, breaking bones and bruising bodies.  Running for their lives, they scattered back into the woods.
         In a moment. it was all over.  Everyone had left and no one was there to see Reyna step out onto the porch with Darren.  “Where will you go, Darren?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
         “East.  We have kin over there.  Will you come with me, Reyna?” Darren spoke softly.
         “I…  I can’t leave my family, Darren”, Reyna stammered.  She would not meet his eyes.  Darren realized that she was afraid of him, too.
         “Tell your father he can have the livestock.  I’ve gathered some of the crops, but most is still out in the field.  He can have whatever he wants.”  Darren turned away from her so she would not see the disappointment in his eyes.
         “Darren, I’m sorry.  I wish you could stay.”  Reyna didn’t know what else to say.
         “Goodbye, Reyna.”  Darren reached for his pack by the door.  He and Lehman had been preparing to leave for about a month.  Now there was nothing left to do but leave.  “Ask your father to bury Lehman for me.  If I waited to do that, the mob would be after me again.  I have to leave now.”
         “I’ll go tell him right now, Darren.  Please let us know when you get settled someplace.”
         “Thanks, Reyna.” Darren spoke over his shoulder as he walked toward the gate.  There was nothing ahead of him but a long road and the rest of his life.
         Thus began the adventures of Darren Oakstaff, Wizard of Wayside.
The End