Potter

A character finds out they have a special power or ability. What happens next?

Potter of Resilee trudged along a dirt road winding up a hill. As he sluggishly crested the top, a small hamlet came into view, only about seven buildings. But it was the first sign of life he’d seen in days.

His pace quickened at the thought of water and food. Maybe a soft place to sleep uninhabited by bugs. It was only as he passed the first few homes that he remembered he had no money and no possessions to trade. He slowed, his brain working the problem without a solution.

So absorbed was he by this, he didn’t see the town was currently in the throes of battle. When the sounds of clanging swords finally reached him, he froze and looked around for the first time. Doors and windows were shuttered. No one walked the streets.

Wherever this fight raged, it was further into the village. His heart thundered in his ears as images reawakened to bring forth memories of his home several days before.

The fighting between the Empire of Loi and the Resileen rebels had reached his own small town, and the soldiers of both sides hadn’t seemed to notice there were people present who were not in the fight.

Potter’s house had been torched in the chaos, his family scattered. Theirs wasn’t the only home lost to flames; townspeople had run blindly through growing smoke as they tried to find a way to safety. Unfortunate were the ones who crossed paths with the soldiers. Bent on destroying each other, they had attacked anyone in front of them even if the victim turned out to be an elder, woman, or child.

He had helped his sisters, little brother, and mother out of the doomed house, but he hadn’t seen where they’d run. Their pa had died during the early fighting of the rebellion, and Potter was the oldest. It was his responsibility to take care of the family. The loss and helplessness he’d felt that night still dragged him down.

He’d wandered aimlessly for the first few days as he tried to determine which path his family may have taken, but all he’d seen had been other townsfolk. Each of them pointed him in different directions until he gave up on that plan and decided to head to the first town he could find and wait for his mother and siblings there.

Of course, it had taken much longer than he’d thought to reach anywhere other than a rural farm.

Potter’s heart raced as he stood indecisively. Should he turn back around? Find a hiding spot in one of the abandoned shops?

Something was growing inside. He didn’t know what it was, but it pulled him towards the fighting. One foot stepped forward as if dragged against its will. Then the next. With every move, Potter saw each of his sisters with terror on their faces. His mother’s expression had been determined as she reached for them. His little brother was too little to know what was happening; all he did was cry as he clung to Ma.

And with each of those images, with each of those steps, the feeling inside Potter grew. It wasn’t rage, though it was certainly fueled by it.

He burst from an alley and straight into the fray with a roar.

Though he’d only seen sixteen winters, his frame and height were already well above the average man. The soldiers around him barely had a chance to turn before he was on them. The energy that had built was released through his limbs. With supernatural speed, he pummeled the men before him and watched as they flew back with the force he exerted.

Potter barely paused to note the fantastical display before he grinned and let that strange power take over. He didn’t care which soldiers were flung before him, he hit them all as he worked his way to the center of the town square, not caring that his filthy clothing was turning dark red.

He swept one man away and grabbed the next, a small one, around the throat. A female squeak stopped him in his tracks and he looked closer at the body he held off the ground.

Her hood had fallen away to reveal a young lady with a braid of red hair and large blue eyes, eyes that looked at him not in fear but with calculation. His surprise was cut short when her swinging legs struck him in a sensitive area with precision.

He dropped her and doubled over. Through blurred vision, he saw the girl rise from the crouch she’d landed in and raise her arm. A glow emitted from her eye as well as her hand, but then a shadow lunged between the two of them.

“What the hell, Orryn?” She sputtered like a wet cat and tried to go around the boy now blocking her from Potter.

Potter, for his part, stared at his unexpected savior. The boy was gangly and tall, though he still didn’t approach Potter’s height. He held the girl back as if it were a regular occurrence to do so.

Potter glanced around to see he was surrounded by soldiers in black and red armor. Though they were still armed, they had stood down as if to see how this strange encounter would resolve itself.

He watched as the other boy glanced around the courtyard, his eyes dancing over the fallen bodies Potter had thrown. Then he met Potter’s eyes.

“These were not small, weak men. Yet you threw them as if they were mere pebbles.”

Potter bared his teeth. The girl ducked underneath Orryn’s guard and rushed at Potter with no regard for the fact he was probably two feet taller than her. She launched herself into the air but was caught around the middle by a giant man. He handed her off to Orryn as if she were a child and stepped between all of them as he looked Potter up and down.

Now here was a man who could actually look Potter up and down. They were about the same height, though the man was far older and broader. He wore a thin gold crown on his head.

“Do you have something to say for yourself, boy?” The man blocked out the others, though Potter could still hear the girl sputtering somewhere and Orryn’s lower voice trying to calm her.

Potter lifted his chin. “Tired of the fighting.” His voice was rough from lack of use these past days.

A graying red brow lifted. “And so you thought to add to it?”

The rage built again and Potter embraced it. Whatever this was, it made him powerful. Unstoppable.

The crowned man cocked his head. “You are not trained. Therefore, you are not invincible.”

Orryn stepped up to stand beside the man, the girl gone somewhere out of sight.

“King Buclear, when he struck the men they flew backward. But I am not sure what side he’s on.”

The king never took his eyes off Potter. “Well, boy. What side are you on?”

“No side.” Potter took a step forward, his fists clenched.

“Well,” Buclear turned back to Orryn. “If he doesn’t have a side, best to leave him be.” He shot a look at Potter. “As long as he moves on without maiming any more of our men.”

The two men began to walk away. “The Imperials will find him soon enough.”

Potter watched Orryn nod at the king. “And they won’t give him a choice like you gave me and Raven.” His voice was solemn.

“Right.” Buclear’s hand landed companionably on Orryn’s shoulder. “But that is his decision.”

Potter blinked. He knew what happened to boys who had magic. Was this what that was? That flow of energy that had given him the strength of many?

He would be dragged to Wizard’s Tower when the Imperials found him.

“My…my pa fought for the rebellion,” he said lowly.

He worried they wouldn’t hear him, they had moved so far away. But King Buclear spun so quickly Potter fell back.

The king came closer and smiled at Potter. “Your magical strength would be a great asset to our team. Together, we can stop the persecution against magic-wielders, can’t we?”

Potter shifted uncertainly. “Is that what you’re doing?”

Buclear laughed. “And so much more, my boy. So much more.”