Once again it was a very hot day. However, it was also occasionally quite windy today. Wenzel was strolling along the streets of Olemar. To his left was the bakery, to his right the tailor's shop. As he had done several times by now, he walked past the beautiful half-timbered houses through the town centre. Apparently, there were only a few people on the street today. It could have been some kind of public holiday that the boy simply didn't know about. Whatever might have been the case, Wenzel crossed one of the many small squares, which had a large oak tree in the centre, and passed a few more shops. He couldn't stop himself from pausing again and again to look at their displays. He was particularly drawn to the display of the sweet shop. These things were something that only the very rich could afford.

  Wenzel was feeling absolutely marvellous. There was no sign of fatigue or exhaustion, because these things weren’t plaguing him today. This was in spite of him being so far away from school and from his soul. So why exactly was this the case? Quite simple! The boy was not far away from his soul. In fact, it was very close to him, around his neck to be precise! How did this happen? As you might imagine, Wenzel had simply stolen it from Aurel. But in order form him not to notice, that the pendant was missing, his little brother had replaced it with a regular stone of almost the same shape and size. Since he knew, that the one who was actually only his adoptive brother never looked at the stone, because he was afraid of it, Wenzel was able to steal it unnoticed!

  And what a difference that made to him! The lad was strutting around the streets of the town full of vigour, not feeling sick all day, as was usually the case. He wasn’t at all afraid of the pendant and the "bad effects", as his brother always called them, that it would supposedly have on him. Wenzel was now one hundred per cent convinced, that Aurel had only ever lied to him about it and that his soul was inside this object for the sole reason of Wenzel not getting executed as the sorcerer he was. However, recent events had been the straw to break the camel’s back. As a consequence, Wenzel betrayed his brother and defied him. "Who cares? He isn’t even my real brother anyway!" Wenzel thought.

  He was actually on his way to Mr Albrecht at the moment. He had already let a few days pass before coming back here in order to fulfil his promise not to visit him all the time. He would soon be there. At that moment, the boy wondered whether he even had his homework with him, which was the excuse for his visit. He reached into his bag and rummaged around a little. Finally, he pulled out a sheet and held it in front of his face to see if it was the right one. It was indeed the correct one. "Lucky me," the boy thought to himself. As he was about to bag it again, a strong gust of wind suddenly came along and tore the piece of parchment out of his hand. It sailed rapidly through the air away from Wenzel. The boy quickly took up the chase. He absolutely needed that sheet!

  As he approached it and was about to reach for it, another gust of air whirled the piece of paper upwards. Instinctively, Wenzel also took off and grabbed the thing. But just as he pushed his feet off the ground and briefly used his magic to fly up to the note, he realised that he had just made a big mistake. Now mentally being on high alert, he immediately lowered himself back to the ground and looked around, unfortunately quite conspicuously, to see if anyone had seen what he had just done. There were people here. One of them must have definitely seen him! But he didn't see anyone staring at him or even turning round to look at him. The boy quickly scurried round the next street corner to "disappear". He didn't want to be exposed as a magician, because he knew what the consequences would be. After a minute's wait, still nothing seemed to happen. Wenzel, therefore, concluded, that he had probably gotten away with it.

  Afterwards,he continued down the same alleyway that he had now turned into in the spur of the moment, so as not to look any more suspicious than he already did. He had never walked here before, but if he took a small detour to Mr Albrecht, it would probably not be a problem. At least that's what he thought. In reality, he walked down the wrong alleyways, turned right once, then left again and finally got lost. Eventually, it dawned on him that he had no idea where he was. At that moment, a local suddenly came up and tapped him on the shoulder from behind. Wenzel turned around to face a medium-sized man with black hair and terrible-looking teeth. "You look like you've lost your way," he said. Wenzel replied: "Yes, I'm sorry. Where exactly is Weaver’s Street again?" - "If I explain it to you, it's more difficult than if I just show you the way. It's not far anyway. Come with me, I'll show you!", the person offered. Relieved that he would soon find his way back to the right path, Wenzel gratefully accepted the offer.

  Then they strode over the cobblestones towards Wenzel's destination. The boy was led through a very narrow, run-down alley. Then they turned left into an even narrower, dark side alley. When they were in the middle of the alley, his guide slowed down. Completely unsuspecting, the boy asked him: "Why are we suddenly getting so slow?" Before there could be any answer, he was suddenly grabbed from behind with his mouth being covered! He tried to fight back, but unfortunately was too weak to somehow break free. Before Wenzel's panic could really set in, he felt himself overcome by tiredness. Then he faded into unconsciousness.

  Wenzel was standing at home in his and Aurel's room. The balcony doors were open and the sun was almost vertically shining in through them. That meant it was getting dark. He put his hand over his face to protect himself from being blinded. Then he took one step after another towards the balcony. For some reason, he wanted to take a look down there..............The vision ended.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The teenager slowly regained consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he saw the walls of a stone cellar in front of him. His head and shoulders were slightly hurting. At that moment, he realised what had happened. "Crap! I knew I'd been seen floating!" it went through his mind. It took the boy a moment to realise, that he had been kidnapped. This was an extremely dangerous situation! His pulse began to skyrocket. Wenzel was sitting on a chair in the middle of a cellar. He jerked his hands forwards, only to realise in surprise, that they weren’t tied, but had simply been hanging down at his sides. He got up from the chair, turned around and saw that there were ropes that would be used to tie someone up on the floor behind it. What was going on here?

  From the neighbouring cellar room, a man suddenly entered. It was the same man who had supposedly tried to help him find his way to Weaver’s Street. The boy froze in a state of shock. Almost more shocking, however, was what happened next. The man fell to his knees in front of him and spoke in a slightly whimpering tone: "Forgive me, please! I didn't know who you were! I didn't intend to do you any harm, I swear! All I wanted was to make sure that I wasn't mistaken about what I saw you doing in the city." Wenzel was speechless. What was going on here? He just stood there for a while with a blank expression on his face. Obviously, this person hadn't meant him any harm, but that was no reason to kidnap him! What's more, the young lad had no idea why this person was now apologising to him.

  Wenzel addressed the man: "I...erm.... don't quite follow you. Why did you kidnap me only to release me now?"

  The man with bad teeth and dirty clothes replied: "Because I didn't know who you were. Please, forgive me, my lord! The Martyrs' Brigades are the allies and protectors of the Chosen One, not his enemies!"

  "The chosen one?" The scales suddenly fell from Wenzel’s eyes. These people were Melgarists! He had never met any of them in person. As far as he could remember, these people believed that the first emperor of the Ordanian Empire had been some kind of messiah, or something like that. Wenzel pondered for a moment. That probably meant that this man thought of him as someone like that. What was going on here? He was a mage, but why would he of all people be thought of as fitting such a role? Wenzel was confused.

  So, he said: "I still don't know what you wanted from me, but as long as you let me go again, everything should be okay…..I guess." The man nodded in confirmation. Wenzel continued: "And please don't talk to me like that, I'm just an unimportant nobody. Actually, I don't know where you get that idea from."

  At that moment, his captor was marked by indignation and confusion. Still kneeling on the ground, he replied: "There is only one who is blessed by God and that is clearly you! How can you even question that?" Before Wenzel could give an answer, another man came down the cellar stairs. He was carrying Wenzel's pendant in his hands. The other man went over to him and immediately snatched it away. Then he carried it over to Wenzel and said: "Here! If your powers don't convince you, then this should make it clear that you are the chosen one!" He held the stone under his nose, pointing at the frame with his finger. He was referring to the engraved letters. Wenzel looked at him sceptically and retorted:

  "What's supposed to be so special about M.R.?" The other two looked at each other. Then they turned to Wenzel and said: "M.R. stands for Melgarus Rex. In Ordanian, that means King Melgar." That was indeed a surprise for Wenzel. He just stared at them, clueless about what to say. Why was his soul in Melgar's pendant? Was it perhaps just a fake? In that case, however, one would have to ask why anyone would make a forgery of an object belonging to the "Demon Emperor". Wenzel was hopelessly out of his depth. He had no answers to these questions, and he certainly didn't want to discuss them with the two strangers in front of him. Then the two addressed him again with a request: "Please join the Martyr’s Brigades! We are the sword of Melgar!"

  The boy had no idea how to deal with something like this. This treatment was completely alien to him. To be honest, it made him feel extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable. He had always been treated as inferior and that was exactly how he saw himself. For him, this way of being interacted with was a 180. Besides, he wasn't Melgar! He was Wenzel and no one else. Consequently, he tried to decline their offer as politely as possible. He was sure now that they meant him no evil, but he had no intention of putting himself in the company of fanatics. Nothing good could ever come of it!

  The two of them were very disappointed when he gave them his rejection, even though he didn't phrase it like a negative reply. "This is all going a little too quickly for me. Let me think about it for a few more days and then I'll give you my answer, okay?" That’s how carefully he had worded it. They seemed to buy, that he would come back to inform them of his decision. In order to be let in again, he also was told the password. Then they escorted him back up to the ground floor and out the door. As he came up the stairs, he saw a red flag with a raised fist on it hanging on the wall. The boy said goodbye as if nothing special had happened and went on his way.

  Out of reach, he let out a sigh of relief. He had really been scared. On the way back to the boarding school, all sorts of things went through his head. He hated it at this school and he hated his life and his family. Now some people had actually offered him a way out of this. Moreover, these people were literal "worshippers" of his, so why didn't he take the opportunity? Simply put, Wenzel was a coward. He didn't dare to take such a huge step on his own initiative. The fact that he had no interest in religion and, therefore, also in religious fanaticism was of course a contributing factor, but even having to deal with something like that would be the lesser evil for him compared to his dreary everyday life, in which everyone just kept telling him what to do and where he was always put down. But there was no helping it. Wenzel was the sissy his brother always told him he was.