Right to wield power

The child was finally close to town, with his clothes drenched in sweat he made it through the gates and into the town.

So determined to tell his father about his discovery he failed to notice the fact that the town's guard responsible for the gates were absent-minded.

The streets were filled with the voices of the town's residents, but they were not bargaining of goods nor discussing about the latest gossip. No, each everyone seemed to be discussing the same topic.

The boy had finally arrived at the wood shop of the town. "Father... Father... Father!" he shouted in-between heavy pants the weight of the load on his back finally reminding him to take it off.

"What is with all the racket?" An older man with a greying beard walked out with an his eyes narrowed alongside a prominent frown etched upon his face.

"Look at what I found father" the boy pulled out the scroll showing it to his father whose eyes widened at the scroll in his sons hand.

"Put that away, now" he spoke through gritted teeth as he pulled his son into his shop. Taking a quick look around he soon headed in as well.

"But, father..." The boy begun, "Not a word out of you. How many times have I told you not to take things that do not belong to you!" The father began to scold his son.

"I did not steal this" the boy spoke feeling wronged, "There were ravens everywhere father and they dropped this, it's magic father magic" wonder filled the boys eyes as he mentioned the word magic, "just like the stories mother used to tell, I saw a tree burn before me, just from me reading from this scroll."

"Jason, listen" the father sighed his voice now taking on a soft tone, "all power comes at a price son" he knelt down holding on to his son's shoulders as he looked him straight in the eye, "And when a power such as this falls everywhere into everyone's hands the price we would have to pay is something we will never be able to afford."

"What do you mean everywhere?" Jason questioned, the father stood and moved to his drawers pulling out a scroll that looked exactly like the one in his son's hand. The boy's eyes widened in shock seeing another scroll in his fathers hands, his illusions of him being special, a chosen one of the gods was shattered at that moment.

"The Ravens were here as well, raining these things down before disappearing as suddenly as they came. Old man Anthony read one of them, revealing to the town what it was that had fallen into the town, and now the townspeople are all talking about the source of the scrolls."

Jason remained silent for a minute before speaking, "what if this a test father? what if a sage has decided to recruit apprentices?"

"from us commoners? son it is best not to stray too much into the realms of fiction. The sages care not about us commoners, those scrolls have limits after three reads they turned to ash"

Jason's eyes widened once more with this revelation, looking down at the scroll in his hands, he felt a tinge of regret. He had but three chances to use the scroll and he had wasted one of those chances on a tree, a tree for gods sake.

"Enough mopping and go and get your things" his fathers voice brought him out of his thoughts causing him to look to his father with his brows raised. "With such an event happening over this town, It is but a matter of time before trouble makes its way into this place. We must get out of her before anything happens"

It was at this moment that Jason took a good look at the workshop, he had not noticed it earlier due to him being so engrossed in his conversation with his father but there were no other people in the workshop.

The floor was filled with chips, sawdust, cuts, chips and remnants of boards, that were normally dealt with. Looking to a bag placed upon a table, Jason saw his father's tools placed in the bag.

"Where are we going father?" Jason asked with a quavering voice as he continued to look at the workshop which he had known almost all his life.

"I don't know, but somewhere far from this place. Now go pack" with a nod Jason moved away to go pack his things.

Not too far from the village a group of people were dressed in dirty mix-match armor; each piece of the armor had indelible scars which no doubt each held a story of their own. The men behind the armors each had scruffy looks with grim looks upon their faces as they readied their weapons preparing for battle.

A man soon approached the rest dressed in coarse cloth, similar to the residents of the town.

The men in armor gave him a nod as he his way to the center of their camp, at the center an individual sat before the flame with their back to the newcomer.

Unlike the others they wore leather armor, "they have the scrolls" the newcomer spoke with his head bowed to show respect.

The individual who was clearly the leader of this group took a swing from the flask at their side. "you heard him men, take up your weapons. Let us show these commoners, not just anyone can possess such power"

The men burst into laughter all making it to their feet with fierce grins etched upon their faces.