Chapter 3

            After eating a rather excellent meal of elk stew, Jonathan curled up near the fire for a nap.  Several hours later, he was awakened by the sound of the door opening, and Hope walking into the cabin.

            “Ah, I see that you are awake.  Good.”

            Jonathan sat up bleary eyed.  It had been really good stew, and it made Jonathan sleep unusually heavy.  “What time is it?”

            “It is around sunset.  Time here has little meaning, as I’m sure you’ve noticed on your travels.”

            “Indeed.  Even days have little meaning.  The only thing that I’ve noticed changing is the temperature and the rainfall from day to day.”

            Hope laughed as she said, “Yes, at times it can become a bit boring.  However, all that is about to change, since you will begin your training tomorrow.”

            At the thought of his training, Jonathan suddenly looked quite nervous.  He couldn’t possibly be this powerful magician, could he?  He was just…just Jonathan.

            “I can see that you’re a little nervous.  Don’t be.  You’ve been given a special gift, one that is disappearing.  As people begin to lose faith in magic, there are fewer and fewer people born with any kind of magical abilities.  Before I go too far, do you know anything about magic in general?”

            “Well, I know there are druids, because you’ve already told me you’re one.”

            “Correct.  There are also three other general kinds of magician or magic.  There are the elementalists, which sadly died out of this plane sometime in the last two centuries.  There is wizard magic, which not very many people on this plane understand, but is here.  There also priest magic, which is the most common.”

            “I’d heard stories of these before, but never knew they were real.  This is all kind of a shock.”

            “I’d imagine that it would be.  Most people in this day and age aren’t too receptive to new ideas.  Though magic is older than the plane itself, the priests have for years been manipulating people into disbelieving magic altogether, or looking on it as a source of evil.  It’s rather sad.  But the gods let it happen, and all I can say is who am I to question the will of the gods?”

            “Gods?”

            “Yes, there are many gods in this plane.  There’s the Christian God, the Muslim God, the Hindu, and the list goes on and on.  These are all what we call Raised Gods, or gods that were created after the plane was created.  The Creator God or Gods, are those that were here before the plane was created and either did all the creating or had a hand in creation.”

            “Two kinds of gods?  How does that work?”

            “Well, it’s like this.  A creator god doesn’t depend on any worshipers for power.  A raised god gets his power from worshipers.  Whenever all their worshipers disappear, the god ceases to exist.  Several times over the millennia gods have disappeared, for instance when all the dwarves died out.  It’s a sad day when a god dies, but the world goes on.”

            “So where does priest magic come from?  What about other magics?”

            “Well, priest magic is magic granted to the priests of the different gods.  Unfortunately, most priests don’t have either the necessary training, or the belief to make it work.  The Christians are actually the weakest in priest magic, because so many of them are anti-magic.  It’s ironic really.  They preach that their God created this plane, but not how he did it.  You say through science, but they say no.  You say magic, and they say that magic is evil.  It’s quite amusing to me.  I’ve been around long enough to know some of the things that really happened, though, so I guess that’s why I get a kick out of it.

            “Now other magic comes from other sources.  Wizards draw their magic from two different places, both planes of pure energy.  One is the Necroplane, or a place where negative energy comes from.  Probably the more infamous of the two, it is where wizards get their powers for necromancy.  The other is just the opposite—a positive energy realm.  Through their chanting, semantics, and material components, a wizard draws on one of these realms to cast their spell.

            “Elementalists draw their powers directly from the elements themselves.  Earth, Air, Fire, and Water may not be on the Periodic Table, but they are still the main elements of this world.  Each elementalist can only use one of those elements.  Before they died out, there were also the Sorcerers, which were a branch of Elementalists that could use more than one type of elemental magic at once.  However, since they are no longer on this plane, I won’t say anything else about them.

            “Now, our own power.  Druidic magic is literally the magic of the land.  Everything on this plane that is living contributes to our power.  Through image and intent, we can perform pretty much anything we can imagine.  The only limit is the physical limits of the caster.  We tap into the power of the creator god, kind of a pool of power that she left behind after she finished her work.”

            “She?  The creator god is a she?”

            “Yes.  Her name is Breanna, and she is our patroness.  It is through her that we receive our power, and she can take it away as she sees fit,” Hope said with some amount of venom.

            “I meant no offense, it’s just that I was raised with the assumption that God was a man.”

            “Some gods are, some are not.  But think about it, would a man have the ability to create all this?” she said with a smirk and gesturing around her.

            “I’d like to think so.”

            “Well, let me explain something to you.  In all the planes, there are two constants—male and female.  All sentient beings, from the smallest mouse to the largest Dolarian Skagg Beast have a male and a female.  Gods are no different.  They tend to favor that trait which best fits their gender.  For instance, gods of love, beauty, and creation are typically female.  Gods of war, money, greed, etc. are typically male.  But enough on the gods.  We’re talking about Druidic magic.

            “Druidic magic is the easiest and yet hardest of all the magics to use.  Wizard magic is generally safe for the user.  Either you can cast the spell or you can’t.  If you can’t cast it, you won’t be able to read it from a spell book.  Druidic magic isn’t that way.  If a druid makes a mistake, they’re dead.  There’s zero room for error in druidic magic.  There are also no set ‘spells’ in druidic magic.  All that is required is image and intent.  You imagine what you want to happen, concentrate on your intent, and then you reach out for the Heart.”

            “The Heart?”

            “Remember when I explained that Druidic magic is the magic of the land, that it was basically the pooled power of Breanna?”  Jonathan nodded. “Well, the Heart is all that energy, literally a pool of magic that we have to reach out to.  Once you contact the magic, it looks at your image and intent, and it carries out the process necessary to make it happen.  Therein lies the danger, for if you try to cast something beyond your ability, it kills you.  A druid could literally tear the moon apart, but it would take an amount of power that no druid could hope to contain.  The Heart uses whatever power it thinks it needs.  Breanna gave it a kind of sentience to make such decisions.  However, there are several things that most druids are able to do with little difficulty.  Conjuring is one.”

            “Conjuring?  Isn’t that making something appear out of thin air?”

            “Not exactly.  Conjuring is a broad term, used to describe the general process of getting something that isn’t there.  Summoning is merely asking the Heart to get an object that you are familiar with, but don’t have with you.  For instance, see that book over there on the mantle?”

            Jonathan looked over at the mantle and saw a book lying on its side.  Just as he found it, it disappeared from the mantle.  Jonathan gasped and looked back at Hope, who had the book clasped in her hands.

            “That was an example of summoning.  Not hard, but you have to know with some measure of accuracy what it is you’re summoning.”

            “Wow!”

            “Indeed.  I guess for someone who’s never seen this it would be something of an awe inspiring sight indeed,” Hope chuckled.  “Now, there is also true Conjuring, which is like summoning, but you let the Heart decide where to get something.  Think of it like this—Summoning is getting a particular item, Conjuring is getting a generic item.  For instance, usually you wouldn’t want a particular apple, just an apple to eat.  That would be conjuring.

            “The first two types of conjuring take something that already exists in the world and merely moves it to where you want it.  If I conjure an apple, that apple is either on a tree somewhere or sitting on someone’s table.  The point is that it exists already.  Creating, the last kind of conjuring, is conjuring something that doesn’t exist already.  It requires the most energy, yet is probably the best way to get something without stealing it.”

            “Wow.  I never realized that it was so complicated.”

            “Well, actually, it’s not that hard.  Usually, you don’t have to worry that much about summoning versus conjuring versus creating.  The Heart usually does all that for you.  All you have to do is have an image and intent, touch the Heart, and it does the rest.  We do not require any kind of material component, fancy words or gestures, or religious ceremonies to work our magic.  Druidic magic is actually the easiest to use of all the types on this plane.  But that also makes it the most demanding of all.  Since there are no set spells or chants, the only thing limiting the Heart is the Druids ability to maintain focus.  Therefore, most of the next couple days will be spent on concentration.  Before you Summon so much as a grape seed, you have to have absolute concentration.  Remember, there is one inviolable rule in Druid magic; if you do something beyond your ability, it kills you.  There is no room for error.”

            “I never knew that it was that dangerous.  Is that why there are so few Druids now?”

            “Exactly why,” Hope said with a smile, “Most Druids are killed when they first touch their power, and try to do something beyond their control.  Since there are so few of us, we are unable to search the population effectively, and so we are unable to find fledgling Druids before they express their power.  Years ago, this wasn’t such a problem.  But now, especially with the Christian worshipers who claim that magic is evil, it is much harder to find Druids.  It’s a vicious cycle.  But enough of that.  I am sure you are still tired, so we shall have supper, and then off to bed with you.  Tomorrow, we will begin your training.”

            It was late, and Jonathan lay awake beside the hearth.  He couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard he tried.  Jonathan was excited, but also curiously disappointed.  When he set out so many weeks ago, he didn’t expect to find anything out here.  It was one reason he had headed this direction.  He wanted peace, and quiet, and a nice secluded place to just live out his days.  He didn’t want to be a powerful magician, to get involved in the dealings of God… or Gods, as the case apparently was.  But he was also excited to learn things that most people thought were children’s tales and bedtime stories.  Mostly, though, he was scared.  Scared of making a mistake.  Scared of disappointing her.

            Jonathan sat up at that thought.  Am I really afraid of disappointing her?  He realized that for the first time in his life, he wanted to impress someone for a reason other than fear of punishment.  He trusted her, which is something that he hadn’t been able to do for a long time.  His parents had darkened his view of people, and he found it very difficult to trust another.  But for some reason, he trusted this strange woman.

            An owl hooted outside the cabin as Jonathan lay back down, his eyes drifting to the embers of the fire.  As he stared into the dull orange glow of the fire, his mind drifted strangely enough to his parents.  He wondered where they were and what they were doing.  Were they still searching for him?  Did they even care?  Probably not.  They were going to get rid of him one way or another no matter what, so it was just as good he was here.  He had a vague feeling that this clearing was a safe place.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that his parents wouldn’t find him here.  He giggled and thought that Hope could probably explain it, and giggled again when he thought that he probably wouldn’t understand it if she did.

            Jonathan was just about to roll over when he thought he saw something in the fire.  He turned to face it again, and saw only the glowing embers.  Hmm… I could’ve sworn that I saw something there.  Guess I’m just really tired.  Rolling over, Jonathan began to think about magic.  Deep down inside, he still didn’t think he was this powerful magician.  He was hardly a man, much less a magician.  He’d been pretty good at school, but mostly out of fear of his parents’ punishments if he wasn’t.  He hoped that he proved an apt pupil for Hope tomorrow.

            So magic really exists.  I wonder what else is real.  Hope mentioned something about Dwarves, but I always thought they were myths as well.  What about dragons?  Faeries?  What about more evil beings?  Jonathan’s mind was awash with so many questions he found it hard to concentrate on any one thing.  All the fiction books he’d read started running through his mind, his mind trying to fathom the possibilities of what truly existed in this universe and what didn’t.  He started to imagine great battles of good and evil, eventually starting to insert himself into the epic struggle.  Slowly and gently, Jonathan drifted off to sleep with these thoughts running through his head.

            “I see his power grows.  Already, he is able to detect other mage’s workings.  He even managed to pierce the viewing globe, though he seemed to not know what it was,” the mage said to his counterpart, glancing over at the pale Necromancer across the table, “We may have to step up our plans.”

            “Indeed Master Dedrick.  However, care must be taken.  The she-witch instructing him is ever vigilant and extremely powerful.  We must proceed carefully.”

            “I will see to it personally.  We must not allow the prophecy to come to pass.  By your leave, Keegan?”

            Jonathan sat up blearily, wondering what had caused him to wake up.  Judging by the glowing embers of the fire, he’d only been asleep for a couple hours.  As he started to lie back down, he heard a noise from outside the cabin.  Silently, Jonathan stood up, trying to get a better idea what was making that noise.

            I wonder if it’s Hope.  Maybe she had to use the bathroom.

            Even as Jonathan was thinking that, whatever it was moved again, bumping into the chair that Hope kept on the front porch.  He decided that it was probably a raccoon or some other small animal, and decided to go back to bed.  He had almost reached the bed when a loud banging noise drew his attention once again to the door.  When he turned around, what he saw was something out of his wildest dreams.  Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the moon, was a figure in a full suit of armor.  The figure stood nearly as tall as the door, and was covered from head to neck in pitch black armor, and his head was covered with a silver-colored helmet that was open in the face.  A face, Jonathan saw, that would have been handsome if it was not for the mindless quality about it, and the many scars that criss-crossed his face.  Jonathan froze at the sight of this unusual visitor, his eyes fixated on the sight of the five foot long sword held in his hands contrasting sharply with the blackness of his armor.

            The intruder took a look around the room, and when his gaze fell on Jonathan, his surprise at finding his prey awake was quite apparent, but his gaze quickly turned eager as he noticed that his prey was cornered and unarmed.  Jonathan started to back up as the unknown figure advanced on him until his back was against the wall, and he realized with some alarm that he had no where else to go.

            The unknown intruder advanced menacingly toward Jonathan, slowly getting closer and closer to his prize.  He raised the sword above his head, intent on stabbing Jonathan through.  He got closer and closer, and thrust the sword directly at Jonathan…

            Only to imbed harmlessly into the wall.

            “If I had been here to kill you, you’d be dead,” he whispered into Jonathan’s ear.  The sound of clapping started behind him, and Jonathan and the dark-armored figure turned to look at the source.

            “Well done, Jagal.  You always did like to make an entrance,” Hope praised as she stopped clapping.  “And what, pray tell, has you scaring my young apprentice at this hour of the night?”

            “I’m here for him, actually.  I have been…sent to train him.”

            Hope quirked an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.  “Well, since you’re here, make yourself at home.  We can discuss things tomorrow.  I would suggest that we return to bed.  Jagal, you’re welcome to sleep here near the fire, but if I know you, you have other things in mind.”

            Jagal nodded.  “From now on, I’m here to not only train him, but more importantly, protect him.”

            “Very well.  Jonathan, I would suggest sleeping.  We’ll discuss this more in the morning.”  And with that, Hope returned to her room.

            “She’s right.  You should go back to bed,”  Jagal said without looking at Jonathan.  “Tomorrow I feel is going to be a very long day.”

            “But…”

            “No buts.  I am sure you have many questions, and until you learn more, you will not understand the answers.  For now, know that between myself and Hope, you are safe.  Now sleep.”

            Jonathan wasn’t very happy about this, but did as he was told.  Jagal walked over to the wall, pulled his sword, and sheathed it in one fluid motion.  As Jonathan laid there, he watched Jagal sit on the floor near the door and begin to meditate.  Jonathan was surprised when he felt a mysterious sensation, like a wave rolling over him that seemed to come from Jagal.  He could almost see it pulsing out from Jagal, like throwing a rock in a pond and watching the ripples.  The sensation lasted only a moment, and after that, Jagal stood up, and began to take off his armor.

            Jonathan started to stare into the embers of the fire, but was unable to stay awake for very long.  He drifted off to sleep trying to discern what that sensation was, but had no luck.

            Oh well.  It’ll wait till morning.

            And with that thought, he drifted off to sleep.

            The next day dawned clear and particularly cold for so early in the summer, but Jonathan was already sweating profusely by the time the sun came up.  Jagal had roused him nearly three hours before sunrise, and immediately set him to running.  After an hour and a half of running, Jagal had him start moving rocks.  Big rocks and little rocks, up hills and down hills; some of them were so large that Jonathan had to roll them along.  Jagal continued to punish Jonathan, making him work harder and harder.  At one point, Jonathan had to run up the side of a mountain and back down carrying Jagal.  Finally, around sunrise, Jagal motioned Jonathan to stop, and sat down on one of the large boulders where they were working.  Jonathan merely collapsed where he was, exhausted by every extension of the word.

            “Do you know why I had you do all this exercise?”

            “Because you’re an evil, sadistic…”

            Jagal laughed before Jonathan could finish the statement, earning a vicious glare from Jonathan.  “Believe me,” he chuckled, “what you have done this morning is only the beginning.  From now on, we have to get you in better shape.”

            His face took on a more serious expression as he said, “From now on, I will be training you how to fight, both armed and unarmed.  When we start to really train, you’ll wish I’d been harder on you here.  The better in shape you are, the more punishment you’ll be able to take when we start sparring.  But you are a long way from that right now.  Make no mistake, you need this training.  And from what I understand about your Druidic magic, you’ll benefit from being in better shape for that, as well.”

            “You are correct, Jagal,” came Hope’s voice from behind him.  They turned and looked at her striding out of the trees into the clearing where they were sitting.  “He will indeed benefit from being in better shape.”

            Jagal looked at her for a minute, then looked back to Jonathan.  “Jonathan, you can go back to the cabin now.  Eat something and rest.  When I return, we will start working on some basic hand to hand skills.”

            Jonathan gladly got up and started back to the cabin, eager to rest before being beaten into the ground some more.

            “How is he doing?” Hope asked after Jonathan was out of ear shot.

            “He’s strong.  I believe he’ll be much better than even I am, after he’s been trained.”

            “Indeed.  I tell you, I’ve never seen a more powerful Druid.  That boy has enough raw power right now to destroy the entire world.  You know that I am one of the most powerful druids in the world left alive, but my power wouldn’t even begin to be a drop in the bucket of his.”

            “Even I can feel his power.  But the funny thing is, I cast several warding spells last night before I came into your cabin, as is my standard procedure.  I pulsed them before I went to sleep, and when I did, I got an echo from him.”

            Hope looked surprised.  “But that’s Priest magic, not druidic.  How would he be able to echo your pulses?  I thought that only worked for priests.”

            Nodding, Jagal said, “It does.  And the return I got from him was bloody powerful.  I don’t understand it, but that boy is also a strong Priest.”

            “But the strictures?”

            “I know.  No mortal can have more than one order of magic.”

            “You know they were put in place to keep anyone from getting too powerful.  If he actively touches more than one form…”

            “He’ll go insane.  But I have to wonder, with the kind of power that this boy has, who could match him anyway?  You’ve said yourself that Druidic magic is the most powerful magic.  If he’s the most powerful of the most powerful, who could stop him anyway?”

            “I don’t know.  But,” Hope looked thoughtful for a moment, “perhaps he is able to touch more than one form of magic.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, you were sent here to train him, correct?”

            “Yes…by Ares himself.”

            “Your god sent you to train him.  You are the best of your order, master of every fighting art the world has ever known.  My god sent me to find him, protect him, and train him.  Perhaps the gods have a mission for him?”

            “That would be my guess…he’s a bloody strong druid, priest, and he’ll be an incredible fighter.  I wonder if…” Jagal’s eyes suddenly got very wide, “You don’t think…”

            “Yes, the prophecy.  He could be the one.  His power is like nothing I’ve ever seen.  But at this moment, it’s all guesses.  I would suggest…”

            Hope ended her sentence as she suddenly felt a massive draw on the Heart, accompanied shortly thereafter by an explosion from the direction of the cabin.  Jagal heard the explosion, and was on his feet and running toward the cabin as Hope herself was changing form to a wolf, and blurred past him several seconds later.

            Jonathan was just reaching the cabin, when he saw two men standing near the porch.  He walked out from the tree line, and immediately the two men turned to look at him.  One of the men was wearing a dark brown robe with a deep hood.  His face was hidden within the shadows of that hood, and around his middle was a brown leather belt with several pouches hanging from it.  The second man was wearing a pair of leather looking pants, and what appeared to be a chain mail shirt over a white shirt of some kind.  In his hand was a rather poor looking sword, badly rusted and chipped in several places.  Jonathan was just about to ask if they were looking for Hope, when the robed one pointed a finger at him and started chanting in a weird language that Jonathan had never heard before.  Suddenly, Jonathan was forced to dive to the side to avoid a ball of fire that had leaped out of the man’s finger and raced toward him.  Jonathan stood up again, to see the robed figure chanting again, while the other man just stood there watching with a gleam of hope in his eyes.

            Jonathan knew he was no match for either person, and Hope and Jagal were nowhere to be seen.  Using what little he knew about magic, he determined that the man was a wizard, which meant that the belt around his middle had to be the material components that Hope had talked about.  He wondered if any of them could be made to explode…then mentally shook himself as he realized that he would never be able to get that close to him.  But he just couldn’t get the idea out of his mind.  All of a sudden, he felt a connection to something…something beautiful.  It seemed to come to him unbidden, and seemed to invade him to his very soul.  It looked at the idea in his mind, and suddenly a massive amount of power flooded into him, and toward the wizard.  The man’s belt suddenly exploded, tearing him apart and knocking the sword-wielding man away.

            Jonathan sagged to one knee, suddenly extremely tired.  He looked up to see the man wielding a sword staggering up.  He was obviously in pain, holding his free hand to his side.  He started advancing on Jonathan, looking to finish him off before he could recover enough to run away.  He was almost on Jonathan, when his eyes suddenly took on a look of terror, and he started backing up hastily.  Jonathan looked around just in time to see a massive wolf jump over his head and land on the man.  Just coming out of the tree line was Jagal with his sword drawn, looking ready to kill the entire world.  He took one quick look around, then ran over to where the wolf had pinned the attacker down.

            He looked at the wolf and said, “Hope, could you look around?  Your senses in that form are much better than mine are.”

            The wolf, which Jonathan surmised was Hope in another form, bounded off the man and began to sniff around the clearing.  Jagal forced the man to get up, and marched him toward the cabin.  Jonathan shakily got up and followed, wanting to be near some protection.  All of a sudden, Jagal jumped to the side.  An arrow seemed to simply appear in the back of the man, who screamed once then fell to the ground.  Immediately Jagal was up, and tackled Jonathan to the ground.  Jonathan felt two more arrows fly directly over him, as Jagal was up and running again toward the treeline.  Several seconds went by, until Hope and Jagal walked back to him.

            “You can get up now Jonathan.  You’re safe,” Hope said as she reached him.  Jagal offered him a hand, and helped to pull Jonathan to his feet.

            “What just happened?”

            “Something that I hoped wouldn’t happen for a few more months at least.  That is why you must be trained,” Hope said with a serious expression on her face.

            “They never set off the wards.  If they can get past my wards without setting them off, I don’t know how safe your clearing will be, Hope,” Jagal looked a little uncertain when he continued.  “Do you know of any other place where we can go?”

            “The only other place I can suggest would be the Grove.  But it is such a long way from here, I don’t know if we can make it.  But it is the safest place I can think of.”

            “The grove,” Jonathan asked, “What’s that?

            “It is the most sacred place for Druids,” Hope began, “When Breanna first gave her power to the Druids, she set aside a special grove.  This grove is the most sacred place for Druids, and is something of a protected place.  In that place, Druids have gone for centuries for shelter, protection, and to learn.  Peace is the paramount law there.  Even two of the most bitter enemies in the world would not attack each other there, for the Grove itself would rise up to stop the aggression.”

            “And this would be safer than here?  Why?”

            “Because, as I said, the Grove itself stops aggression.  No magic other than Druidic magic will work within the boundaries of the Grove.  Plus, there would be several more eyes to help protect you there.  I know at least three Druids who I trust that live there.”

            “You said it will actively stop aggression,” Jagal began, “Will it allow me to train him to fight?”

            “It should.  The Grove seems to know what the intentions of the aggressors are, and since your aim is to educate and train, rather than to cause harm, I believe it should be fine.  I will, however, try to get in touch with some of the druids that I know there, and see if they have a more definitive answer.  I do know that I learned some battle magic there, so it is possible that it would accept sword-play for training as well.”

            “Very well.  That sounds like our best bet.”

            “Hope, what happened?” Jonathan asked, finally inserting himself into the conversation again.  “When that wizard’s belt blew apart, I felt something…something wonderful.”

            “What you experienced was the Heart, Jonathan.  You have touched your power for the first time.  You must be extremely careful now.  We will start to train you very rigorously now, since you have touched your power. And yes,” Hope continued after seeing the look in Jonathan’s eyes, “It always feels that way.

            “For now, let us return to the cabin.  I would feel safer in there knowing that you can’t be shot at from the tree line.”  And with that, the three of them wandered into the cabin.

            Several hours later, Jonathan had finished packing his few belongings back into the pack that he’d gotten from Mrs. Phillips, the librarian.  Even Jagal had been impressed with the quality of the knife she’d given him, and remarked about it.  Hope had gone into her room shortly after returning to the cabin, and had emerged about an hour ago with some news.

            “Jagal, Jonathan, please prepare to leave.  I have contacted one of the Druids in the Grove, and spoken with him.  Jagal, as long as you are training Jonathan, the Grove won’t attack you.  Now, I must rest for a while before we leave.  The way we will be traveling will be…difficult, for me at least.  It will take us many days, and we must move quickly and quietly.”

            “Where is the Grove?”

            “In the Highlands of Scotland,” Hope told Jonathan, then laughed at his expression.  “Don’t worry.  We will use magic to get there.”

            She had then gone back into her room, leaving Jagal to meditate and Jonathan with a million questions.  Jonathan sat there for a long time, his mind a whirlwind of thought.

            Why was I attacked?  Those men obviously wanted to kill me.

            On and on his mind whirled around, unable to make a conclusion.  He was puzzled as to why people would want to kill him, and what it all meant.  And then there was his touch on the Heart.  It had felt wonderful, like a warm towel fresh out of a dryer, a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day, and what he imagined a lover’s caress would feel like, all rolled into one.  It was a sensation that made him crave more of it, and therein lay the problem.  He knew that with the kind of power that Hope claimed he had, he would have to be very careful not to let it go to his head.  That, and there was the sensation that he got when Jagal did whatever it was he did.  It didn’t feel the same as the Heart had, so what was it?  Was it some kind of effect, or was it something else?  Too many questions, Jonathan surmised.  What do I really know without a doubt.  I’m a druid, apparently.  I’m supposed to get trained in fighting as well, so I’m going to be a highly trained warrior mage, Jonathan chuckled at this thought.  Well, I wanted freedom, and it looks like I get more schooling.  At least these are things I want to learn.  And at least these people care for me, and not themselves.  Hope walked out of her room at that moment, and Jonathan’s musings were cut short.  “Alright gentlemen, let us be off.”

            The three of them walked outside the cabin, and stopped a few feet from the front steps.  Hope turned to them and said, “The way we are going to travel is by jumps.  I will make a portal, and we will walk through.  I do not have sufficient power to make the jump in one leap, so we will have to make a leap, wait for me to recover, and make another leap.  The first leap will take us almost due east of here to a place in the boundary waters of northern Minnesota.  It will take a few days to get to the Grove.  Now, please be quick.  Once I open the portal, you must go through quickly.  And move out of the way once you get there, as someone will be coming behind you.  Jagal, you first.  Jonathan will be second, and I will be last.”

            With that, she turned toward the mountain, and Jonathan felt a curious sensation as she worked her magic.  It felt like a curious expansion of self, like she became more than she really was.  As that feeling continued, he saw a blue circle appear out of midair, steadily increasing in size until it was nearly 7 feet tall, the bottom of it almost touching the ground.  Jagal strode confidently toward the opening, drew his sword, and stepped through.  Jonathan walked toward the portal, and suddenly he was afraid.  All his life, all he’d wanted was a nice, quiet spot to just live.  Maybe a family, but just a simple life.  It was almost enough to laugh at.  Here he was, beginning a strange adventure, destined to be a warrior and druid.  It was almost laughable.

            Remembering he needed to hurry though, Jonathan took a deep breath and stepped through the portal, beginning his journey…to whatever end.