Title: A Fantasy (What If?)

Author: Brian W 

The watcher drifted noiselessly overhead as the young boy crashed his way through the woods, running in terror from his latest beating. He frequently collided with small trees and tripped in the tangle of undergrowth. He looked a mess. His delicate face was contorted in fear and covered in blood. His right eye was closed and swollen, the result of a kick that had also split the skin of his forehead. Barry was his name. He was the twelve-year-old son of a prominent member of the community. At this moment he was fleeing from the latest in a long line of beatings, administered by his abusive father. The man periodically took out his frustrations on his family, when, for the slightest pretext he would hit Barry or his mother.

This time, Barry didn't even know what he was supposed to have done. He was in his room just getting undressed, ready for bed, when he suddenly became aware of a noise behind him. Turning, he just had time to glimpse his father's furious face, before his world exploded in a flash of light, as he was stuck in the face.

The blow knocked Barry to the floor screaming, and before the boy could react, his father's boot smashed against his chest. Curling into a ball to protect his soft belly from further kicks he again screamed as the next blow caught him in the head. His neck almost snapped as his father's foot caught him on the temple, kicking his head like a football. The force would probably have killed or at least seriously injured him, but he had put his hands in font of his face, and his right one had taken a great deal of the force from the kick.

Barry just held onto consciousness as his body flooded with adrenaline. He was disorientated for a few moments, his little finger and the one next to it hurting with a burning pain. He whimpered, waiting for the next kick, when he became aware of his mother's screams beside

him. Both his parents were fighting above him. Painfully crawling towards safety, Barry tried to get out of the room. He was almost out of the door, when another kick just missed his groin and connected with his right thigh. His mother saved him then as she threw herself at his father again.

Reaching the landing, Barry staggered down the stairs, intent on getting as far away as possible. He only stopped to grab his Nike trainers from the foot of the stairs, before fleeing from the house.

The watcher had first seen him then, and lightly touched the child's mind. Seeing the terror there and recognizing a compatible mind, the silent ghost implanted a subtle suggestion.

His home was near the edge of the town, and Barry ran into the darkness of the countryside. His only thought was to flee. He knew that if he ran into the town, he would probably be returned to his father. After previous attacks, the authorities had been told that Barry had had an accident, and he was too scared to tell the truth. Only two years before, his father had beaten him so severely that he needed hospital treatment. The attack had left him permanently deaf in his right ear and there had been serious injury to his left one as well. Those injuries plus the broken finger and other bruises had been explained away as a fall down stairs at home. The nurses at the hospital suspected the truth and tried to get Barry to tell them what really happened, but in fear of another beating, he had agreed with his father's story.

Now, his ribs hurt with every breath as he ran, and he could not see out of his right eye, whilst his left was filled with tears. The two smallest fingers of his hand hurt intensely and he couldn't use them. He knew that they were broken, but there was no thought of seeking help, Barry's only thought though, was to run. He knew that he had to get as far away as he could. The suddenness of the attack without any apparent reason made him fearful for his life. Normally his father would build up to the assault, screaming Barry's latest crime at the top of his voice. This time though was different, and his mother seemed to recognise that difference, and had for the first time tried to defend Barry. The boy knew that his father hated him, and it was only a matter of time before something serious happened. He would have to find somewhere to hide until morning, then he would run as far away as possible.

He turned off of the road and climbed the fence. Such were his injuries that he found it difficult to negotiate the obstacle, and fell as he crossed, ending up in the mud of the field. Picking himself up, he made his way to the far edge and over another fence. Beyond was the edge of an extensive area of timber. Into this he ran. He knew that near the centre of the woods was a rocky hill, where there was a cave. Not many people went there fortunately as the area had a reputation for strange happenings. In fact the cave itself was known as Wizard's Hole. Barry was a little fearful of the place, but compared to his fear of his father it was nothing.

Meanwhile unseen the silent shape sped on ahead to wait for his arrival.

Eventually he reached the rocks and searched for the entrance. He knew that it was near the stream that ran through the woods, and eventually found it. Had one of his more daring friends not told him what to look for, he would have missed the opening. It was well concealed behind a large boulder, and it was only the presence of a fallen tree close by that helped him find it. His friend's directions were accurate.

It was pitch black inside, and Barry felt his way slowly in. His friend had described a short passage that led to a large dry chamber, and Barry soon found himself in the cavern. He felt nervous then. The cave seemed so big, and with its reputation, Barry felt more than a little scared. He was too afraid to go back though, and he needed the shelter the cave gave. He had been half undressed when his father had attacked, and fled without stopping for any clothing. All he was wearing was a thin T-shirt and a pair of briefs. Already, the air outside had chilled him thoroughly, and he would not survive outside dressed as he was. At least here it was relatively warm, and it was perfectly dry.

Barry felt around and found a shallow alcove in the side of the chamber, that had a floor of soft sand. Feeling a little more secure with the close proximity of the walls, he curled up on the sand, and his exhaustion drove all his terrors from his mind. Although he dozed, Barry could not sleep properly because of the pain from his injuries. Instead, he lay there in the dark, crying softly to himself whenever he woke.

About three quarters of an hour later, a shape detached itself from a ledge high in the cavern and glided to an almost silent landing in the sand near Barry. It approached the crying boy, and gazed at his pitiful form. The creature was well able to see in the dark and examined Barry. It could see the plentiful scratches on the child's legs, and the livid bruise on his thigh.

Barry's injured hand was evident; by the way the boy held it out from his body, the two fingers swollen and held at and awkward angle. That Barry was in pain was more than evident to the creature that was the watcher.

The creature was magical and able to touch the boy's mind in subtle ways. It reached out through its magic and blocked all the messages of hurt that were travelling along the boy's nerves. The effect was instant, and would last for some hours, giving the boy a chance to rest.

The sudden change in his condition, caused Barry to open his eyes. There in front of him, he could see a faintly glowing creature. It was about six feet long, and reminded him of a legendary dragon. There were two differences that Barry could see from the popular image of such creatures. The dragon's snout lacked the raised nostrils, being more like a rather pointed version of a sand lizard's face. And the other major difference was that the creature seemed to have only two normal legs. It wasn't that the creature was bipedal, just that the font pair seemed to be very weird. Barry got the impression that they were like a bat's forelimbs, with large leathery wings joined to them.

"I must be dreaming." Barry thought to himself as he gazed into the red whirling eyes. Then with his body now so comfortable he closed his eyes again and fell asleep.

The dragonet watched for a while, until it was sure the boy was resting peacefully, then almost without a sound it lifted into the air and flew back to its concealment at the back of a ledge high in the cave.

It was daylight by the time Barry woke again. He tried opening his eyes, but the right one refused to open. At first he simply lay in the soft sand, as he remembered how he had come to be here instead of at home in his bed. The full horror of the night before spread through his mind, threatening to engulf his fragile sanity. He lay shaking with remembered terror as a small internal voice kept repeating, "you are safe, you are safe."

As he calmed down, Barry became aware of an urgent need in his groin. He needed to go to the bathroom. He tried to get up, but his right leg was stiff and didn't want to move. Raising it, to twist his body into a better position, the felt a burning in his ribs where he had been kicked. Then he screamed as his hand banged against the side of the alcove, and his injured fingers protested.

Cradling his hand, Barry lay back against the side of the rock, whimpering with pain. His injuries hurt so much that he was afraid he was going to die. Any fear of a further attack had allowed him to flee the night before, and now, without that stimulus is body refused to do his bidding.

"Stay still." Said the small voice. "Relax and forget the pain."

Barry was hurting too much to do anything but lie still. He held himself tense though, and could still feel the pain. "Relax," repeated the voice in his mind again and again, until eventually he obeyed its advice.

The boy looked slowly around the cave that was easily visible, lit by a bright shaft of sunlight that arrowed through a hole high in the roof. He saw that the cavern was huge. Measuring at least sixty feet from the furthest point he could see, and the roof was nearly thirty feet above his head. The floor was covered in soft red sand or dust, and up near the sun he could see some ferns growing. If he were going to die, he thought, then at least it would be somewhere nice.

What Barry didn't notice though, were the eyes of the dragonet just peeking over the edge of the high ledge it used as a resting-place. The creature studied the child. Now that it was light, it could see the blonde hair was matted against Barry's forehead by the blood that had escaped from the cut there. The boy had probably been quite pretty once, with a fair complexion and blue eyes, but now his skin and lips were almost white from the shock he was suffering. The whole right side of his face was swollen and covered in dried blood, whilst his eye was almost invisible beneath the damage. The two injured fingers of his right hand were black, and stuck out grotesquely.

The creature reached out with its magic again and touched the boy's mind, suppressing the pain once more. "If only my master would hurry up and return," the dragonet thought, "the boy needs help desperately."

Barry looked towards the ledge where the dragonet lay, and the watcher realized that the boy could sense something strange. It knew that Barry couldn't see it and it had made no sound. The boy must be capable of recognizing magic, the dragonet realized.

At that moment both occupants of the cave heard a noise from the entrance and looked to see someone enter. The dragonet ducked back out of sight, and Barry froze, fearful of seeing his father walk in. Then the boy relaxed as he saw a familiar figure walked into view. It was a boy he knew to be an orphan from the home two streets away from his house. The boy was in the next year at school, so Barry didn't know him well. He thought he was called Richard though, and he was always in the middle of any trouble. Barry, himself, was quiet and retiring, so they hadn't met often. The boy didn't see Barry at first, instead concentrating on the ledge where the dragonet lay.

"Help me." Barry pleaded in a weak voice. His lips were dry and he had trouble speaking.

Richard looked into the recess seeing Barry. "S--t!" He exclaimed, a look of shock making his eyes widen. "What happened to you?"

"M... my Pa hurt me." Barry said starting to cry.

The older boy knelt beside Barry, wrinkling his nose at the smell of urine from the youngster. He quickly took in the extent of Barry's injuries. "You'll father really did this to you?" He asked, not believing such things could happen. " Buck's father beat him, but he never described anything as bad as this."

Richard helped the youngster into a more comfortable position, at a loss to know what to do. "Why did he do this to you?"

"I don't know." Barry answered, squealing with pain as he was moved. "I just know he was trying to kill me. Please, I'm thirsty. Please help me. I don't want to die."

"I don't know what to do." Richard confessed. "But Ryzac should be here soon. I know he's here somewhere." He looked up at the dragonet's hiding place. "He's a wizard, and will know what to do."

"Please help me, I'm so thirsty."

Richard looked confused, then stood looking around the cave. "I haven't got anything to put water in. I'll look outside. I'll be back in a minute, honest."

Barry lay against the rock looking at his hand and whimpering. The skin on his little finger was split and it looked as if bits of bone were showing. Most of the hand was black, and he was feeling more scared by the minute. He knew that he needed urgent attention, but was afraid that he would then be given back to his father.

Richard returned a few minutes later with a plastic bottle in his hand. It was old and squashed, with a split in the side. Nevertheless, inside was a small quantity of water, and to Barry it looked like the best presented drink he had ever seen.

Richard held the bottle to the younger boy's lips, dribbling the vital fluid into them. Barry tilted his head to catch every dropped and whined as his body protested at the effort. Greedily he drank every drop, before demanding more.

Returning with a second welcome volume of water from the stream, Richard knelt beside Barry supporting the youngster's head. "Ryzac should be here soon, he normally meets us at noon when he's here. He'll use his magic to help you I'm sure."

"I don't want magic, Richard." Barry said, the pain evident on his face with every movement. "I need real help. I don't want to go back to my parents though. My Pa will kill me next time."

"Ah! But what is magic?" A new voice asked from the cave entrance. It sounded very mature and authoritarian. Barry looked towards the sound, but could not see the speaker. Richard recognized the person though and gave an excited cry. "Ryzac. I'm glad you're here.

We need help."

A tall dark-haired young man stepped into view. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. He had sparkling grey-green eyes and a dark, tanned complexion. He seemed to be in his late twenties, but had the manner and bearing of a mature schoolmaster. Barry felt that here was a man who was very knowledgeable and used to authority.

The man stepped quickly forward, kneeling beside Barry and professionally assessing the situation. "Well young man I asked you a question. What is magic? If you know that you don't want magic, then you first have to know what it is." He smiled then. "To a new born baby, everything is magic. So we could define anything that his beyond our understanding as magic." Having distracted the boy whilst he took stock of the child's injuries, Ryzac became more serious. "What happened to you boy?"

Barry told the man how he had been hurt and run here for sanctuary. He was so distressed that Ryzac had to tell him to calm down several times, and repeat what he had just said as he was incoherent at times.

"What is your name? Ryzac asked when Barry had told his story.

"Barry sir."

"Well Barry, we'll have to do something about you then. First, I need to clean you up, so that I can examine you properly. I am going to pick you up and take you outside, where we can wash some of the blood away. This will probably hurt, but I will try to move you as little as possible."

Ryzac slid his arms under Barry, and lifted as gently as he could. With the first movements, the boy cried out, then set his jaw and made no further protest as he was carried to the stream. The journey, fortunately, was not a long one, and the man took great care not to move the boys body unnecessarily. Reaching the edge of the stream Ryzac asked Richard to ease Barry's T-shirt carefully off. This he started to do, but stopped when the boy cried out again.

"Just a moment Richard." Ryzac said. "Do you have your knife on you?"

"Yes sir."

"Then use it. Cut the shirt."

With great care, Richard sliced up the sides and across the shoulders of Barry's shirt, before Ryzac put his patient down. Then whilst Richard supported the younger boy, Ryzac used the scraps of T-shirt to wash the blood and dirt away. He was exteamely gentle with the child. As

he worked, the wizard spoke quietly to Barry, reassuring him all the while. He treated the youngster almost as if he were a sick or injured puppy, firmly but carefully cleaning him up. At the same time, back in the cave, the dragonet reached out to touch Barry's mind again. This time it reinforced the wizard's words helping to calm the boy further.

Once the injuries were clean, Ryzac gently examined them. Barry whimpered occasionally as the man's fingers touched a tender spot. He was especially vocal when the man firmly probed the damage to his ribs. The muscle and tissue there was badly torn and bruised. Finally, the ordeal was at an end, and Ryzac sat back on his heels looking seriously at the boy.

"This is not the first time you have been hurt like this. Is it?" He asked Barry.

"No sir."

"How often as your father hurt you?"

"He hits me a lot sir, but this is the third time he has hurt me bad."

"What about other members of your family?"

"There is only my mother sir, but she doesn't hit me."

"Does she stop your father though?" The man asked.

"Only this last time sir."

"So she doesn't really care about you then?" Ryzac asked, watching the boy. "No, I see she doesn't." He said seeing Barry's hesitation. "So you don't particularly want to go back to your parents then?"

"No sir." Barry answered a note of hope in his voice. "I am scared. Can you help me to live somewhere else?"

"Well." Ryzac paused and put a hand gently on the youngster's shoulder. "I can give you a choice and let you make your own decision. First, though, I must talk with Richard." Leaving the rather confused boy lying beside the stream, he moved off a short distance, so that he could speak in private with Richard.

"Why did I tell him all that?" Barry wondered. In the past he had kept everything to himself, but had felt a compulsion to talk to Ryzac. His instinctive distrust of adults was now urging him to show caution once more.

Having had hearing problems for a couple of years, Barry was pretty good at lip reading and watched the man and boy. Unfortunately he couldn't see Ryzac's face, but from Richard's replies it seemed that he was being given instructions and he wasn't happy at being left. The man took some time reassuring Richard, and showed him a great deal of affection. Eventually the boy was happy again and ran off with a cheerful wave to Barry.

"Now young Barry," Ryzac said coming over and gently lifting him up again, "it is time to help you. Your injuries aren't life threatening, but they need more attention than I can give in this world. My powers are strictly limited here, and there is not enough energy to spare."

Ryzac carried Barry back into the cave, explaining what he was going to do. "I will take you across the barrier, where I can use 'Magic' to heal you. This will take a lot of energy, and I will not the able to bring you back immediately. So, no matter what you decide you want, you must stay in my world for a while. The problem is on this side of the barrier, where there isn't sufficient energy. By taking you across with me I will be using a lot of that energy which does exist here. That energy comes from the belief in magic, and there are not enough believers on this side."

Barry burst into tears again. The man was mad. He was talking about magic and other worlds as if they were real. For a while, Barry had believed he was going to be taken to a place of safety, not back into the cave. "Please help me." He cried with all his terror and pain evident in his voice.

"I am going to, boy. In a little while you will understand, and you will no longer be in pain."

Barry knew now that he was about to die. This man was one of those weirdos all boys were warned against. He was about to be used and murdered. With this realization his terror vanished, and he faced the prospect with a fatal calm. Ryzac was right, after today his father wouldn't be able to hurt him any more.

The man stood waiting for Barry to stop crying, seeing the child was almost ready. "Barry, you need to cooperate with me." He said gently. "Are you ready?"

Barry nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Ryzac smiled at the boy in his arms. "Right then are there is just one more thing that needs to be done. Then you will accept what is to happen." He looked up high on the wall of the cavern. "Mastoraxia, show yourself. It is time to leave." He called out.

Barry looked up, as the dragonet launched itself from the ledge and dropped towards them. It was carrying a bundle in its rear claws, and landed awkwardly because of it. "No!" Barry cried, his mind trying to reject this development. He had been convinced his previous sighting of the creature was a dream. "Magic doesn't exist." He protested, denying the evidence before his eyes.

"Oh yes it does." Said the quite voice in Barry's head, and he knew that it was the dragonet speaking. "Just relax Barry, and believe. Your belief will help."

"But it's impossible." The boy said, now without any conviction.

Ryzac gave the boy a gentle squeeze, grinning down at the lad in his arms. "Now you are ready. We go."

On the last raised syllable, light seemed to explode from a point under Ryzac's shirt and Barry got the impression of a gem hanging there. The light flared for a brief second before dying away again. Then Barry became aware of a subtle change in the air around him. Suddenly he felt warmer and there were strange smells in the air.

"Welcome to my world Barry. Now we can make you better." Ryzac said as he carried the child from the cave.

Barry looked up into the man's eyes. Seeing the supreme authority and strength, there he felt safe at last. Then he turned his head and looked at the world around him in wonder.

The rocky hill containing the cave no longer stood deep in the wood. Instead, it was at the very edge of the trees. And such trees they were too. Standing at least two hundred feet from root to crown, with trunks so broad you could almost build a house him one. Up in the branches Barry could just hear a veritable cacophony of sound as myriad brightly-coloured birds darted to and fro.

On the other side he could see out over a gentle slope towards small fields and a village in the valley below, whilst far across the other side Barry could see a large town of full graceful looking buildings. He couldn't see much detail at this distance, but each building seemed to be a slender tower of white or red. Overhead the sky was a brilliant blue with a few fluffy white clouds, whilst the grass below could not have been greener.

"Welcome to "The Land" Barry." Ryzac said kneeling and placing the boy gently on a grassy bank. He stood up straight again and closed his eyes for a moment. Then silently mouthing a phrase that Barry couldn't understand, Ryzac knelt beside the boy again. A golden glow seemed to emanate from his hands, as the man tenderly touched them to the boy's injuries. He held them over each place for a full minute, and Barry felt a pleasant warmth from them. Each area of damage attended to, Ryzac stood up again. "Rest for a while, boy." He said then. "I have not done much to your hand, except to take away any pain there. That injury needs more specialized treatment as the bones are shattered. We will visit a healer first, then we will go on to my hall where you will be safe."

Barry lay on the grass for a few minutes soaking up the warmth of the sun, and realized that he was now far from his home and his father. For the first time in many years he now felt free from the constant fear that had dominated his life, and a smile crept onto his face.

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