Chapter 1: No Spell

"Oh my god! You killed her!" screamed a small girl. "Suzy is dead, you killed her! What am I supposed to do now?" The little girl put her hands to her hips in the way that all girls were famous for. The girl, her freckles almost bouncing off her eight-year-old face, held the doll in one can, it's missing head laying a couple feet away. "I'm telling Ms. Lana on you, Marcus! You know, just cause you're my brother doesn't mean you can take my things without asking!" The little girl ran off, tears in her eyes.

The boy, Marcus, to whom the little button nosed girl was yelling at, stood there in shock. "Please, Jessie, don't tell, I didn't mean to hurt Suzy, I was just playing a save the maiden game and well, the dragon got to her before the knight," said Marcus.

A stout middle-aged woman came, looming over Marc in a daunting way. "Marcus?" said the women. "Did you break Jessie's doll?"

The little boy quivered knowing that he was in trouble. "Yes Ms. Lana," he said quietly. He put up his head and tried to do his best sad-puppy-dog eyes. He wasn't sure what a puppy dog was, he knew only that it was a weird Mundane animal that like to bark and seemed to be the Mundane's best friend.

"Did you apologize young man?" she said sternly.

"Yes ma'am," he answered.

She put a small smirk on. "All right then." She bent down and picked up the doll, head and body. The women concentrated hard and put the head onto the shoulders. She let go of the head and it stayed in contact, as if it hadn't been detached in the first place. She turned her back to Marc and walked over to Jessie. "Here's your doll, don't cry, she's fine."

Jessie walked over to Marc. She grinned in almost a wicked way. "You are the most bratty six-year-old brother a girl could have," she said with a impish smile. "And you have a lot of guts to be like you are, especially when you yourself don't have a talent."

-10 years Later-

Marc, now 16 years old, was lying by a sun-flower plant. The bright shine from the sun-flower was warming his wet body, as he was just on the wrong side of his sister's rage. His sister, unlike him, had a talent. She could make water jump six feet in the air. He was trying to drink from a spring when his sister played a prank on him for accidentally killing her violents. They attacked him first.

He daydreamed of getting his sister back with his talent, if he ever would figure it out. He daydreamed it was pulling hair, and he used that talent, in secret, to have some fun with his sister.

He woke up from that pleasant daydream. He looked around and saw a flick of a tail from the day mare Imbium. He knew the tale of Imbri, how she saved Xanth from a Mundane wave so many years back. And how she used to be a night mare and not a day mare.

"Thank you Imbri," he whispered. He stood up and felt his shirt, making sure it was dry.

The plant got him dehydrated so he went back to the spring, and making sure his sister wasn't around, he took a sip of the water.

Someone came up from behind and tapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Hello Marcus," came a sweet female voice.

Marcus lost his balance, being startled, and fell headfirst into the water. Humiliated he stood up soaking wet and look to who said his name. It was a pretty girl, his age. She had long, chocolate brown hair that looked perfect. She had almost a nymphly look about her. She was completely beautiful. She looked at him, with her perfect brown eyes, shocked.

"Are you okay Marcus?" she said sweetly. "I didn't mean to scare you." She gave off a little impish giggle that all girls used that could torment men to the point of insanity. The giggle seemed, however, false.

Marc tried to stick out his chest to act as man like as he could. "I wasn't scared," he said putting on a mock-deep voice. "I just slip, that's all.

The girl moved to the side and walked by the water, her hair showing a tint of blue as the sun hit it in the right spots. She looked somehow disheartened and nervous. She put her hands together in a way that looked almost flawless. She looked up to Marcus, her deep eyes looked into his icy revealing eyes.

"Are you okay, Samantha?" asked Marc worriedly. He fallowed this girl, the girl he liked for the longest time, but never actually took action. He was always awkward around her.

"I need to go away for a while, I don't want to be in this village," she said sorrowfully. "I need to see the Good Magician for an answer. So, I'm leaving South Village early tomorrow morning."

He was shocked. Any question that needed to be asked of the Good Magician had to be a very important one. The Good Magician charged a years service to provide a single answer, unless you do something great for him, or, unless, you're a magician or sorceress. Samantha had a talent, but not of sorceress caliber. He could make small tremors that could easily throw even the gap dragon off balance.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked toneless.

She approached him looking him square in the eye. "I was wondering if you would accompany me, since you probably have a question yourself." She looked into his blue eyes carefully, as if she could read his thoughts. Who knows, that seems to be a special talent that all women seemed to have.

He looked down, yes he had an answer, and of coarse he did. What was his magical talent? And another question as well. One that was burned into his mind, in every dream, in every nightmare. Who, or where was his-

"So, Marcus, have you decided?" She said, giving a pretty little smile.

He looked to her and smiled. "Of coarse I will."

"Oh good!" she exclaimed. As she said so, the ground shook a bit. "Oops, I got a little excited, I just can't wait to leave. I'll meet you tomorrow morning by the village entrance." With that she turned on her heal and walked away. "Bring a weapon."

This was amazing, not only was he able to go on a journey to find his talent, but he got to do it with the girl he had the biggest crush on. This was turning out to be great.

Later that night when he broke the news to his sister and his aunt Lana, to whom his sister and him came to stay with when their mother and father died 13 years ago. His sister was happy for him; she still gave him a bit of a good-bye treat by making his glass of water spew its contents at him.

In the morning, his aunt gave him a loving hug goodbye and his sister, surprisingly, gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then, he took the sword his father used, which was magically enhanced to be feather light and never gets dull. So, he was off, starting his journey northeast to the Good Magician's castle. Little did he know that that was just the beginning of a much larger adventure.