Below you will find a draft section of my future fantasy novel, tentatively titled ‘The Last Forgotten Son.’ Not telling you where in the story this appears, but its still the first draft. It might contain errors, spelling and grammar mistakes… Nobody is perfect. The book will be part of a 3 book saga and is about 20 percent written. Enjoy the sneak peak!
Kevin had been in worse situations before, but waking up hungry in a crumbling alleyway wasn’t ever ideal. He had spent most of his life drifting between places, surviving on scraps and quick wits, but this was different. The last thing he remembered from the night before was slipping through the backstreets of Greystone, avoiding watchful and unfriendly eyes, before everything blurred. Now, he was here, somewhere unfamiliar, with only his rations and the clothes on his back. And the last thing he expected was to find a tiny creature rummaging through his food.
Kevin’s eyes fluttered at the sound, the voice slipping into his consciousness like a whisper carried on the wind.
“Wake up.”
It wasn’t a plea, nor a command. It was something deeper, something that sent a shiver through his bones.
As he woke, he noticed the thief sat crouched on its haunches, stuffing dried meat into its oversized mouth with both hands. It was barely the size of a housecat, wiry and long-limbed, its skin a pale blue that pulsed with a soft bioluminescent glow. Constellation-like markings shimmered faintly across its arms and cheeks, reacting to the air like they were reading the mood. Its face was somewhere between impish and insectoid: large, slanted yellow eyes, too many sharp little teeth, and a pair of long antennae that twitched in Kevin’s direction. Its elongated fingers ended in sharp, dexterous claws, and its ears, thin and membranous, flicked at every sound. The glow deepened and faded rhythmically, giving the impression of something constantly on the verge of disappearing. It had no tail, but its limbs were unnaturally flexible, allowing it to move with unsettling agility as it devoured Kevin’s rations. A scarf hung around its narrow neck, frayed but oddly dignified, and it looked like it had seen more adventures than most full-grown men.
Kevin blinked, rubbed his eyes, and then squinted at the creature again. “Okay,” he muttered. “Either I hit my head harder than I thought, or you’re very real and very… blue.”
The creature glanced up mid-chew, froze, then slowly swallowed.
“Ah,” it said, licking its fingers. “You’re awake. Good. This makes things easier.”
Kevin sat up, shaking his head and casting another wary glance. “Glowimps aren’t supposed to talk. Or steal. Or have fashion accessories. You are a glowimp, arent you?”
The glowimp tilted its head, one antenna curling downward in mild offense. “Technically, it was unguarded. Also, I was hungry and yes, I am.”
Kevin stared a second longer. “I’m definitely concussed.”
The glowimp wiped his hands on his wiry legs, then stood with the exaggerated stiffness of someone trying to look regal after crawling through a compost heap. With a flourish far too dramatic for someone his size, he dipped into a sweeping bow, his bioluminescent skin pulsing with amusement. Or indigestion. Hard to tell with Fidgwic.
“I am Fidgwic the Unparalleled! Master of Wit, Connoisseur of Catastrophes, Wizard of Wisdom, Curator of Calamities, and, regrettably, your new travel companion. I am the Keeper of Lost Things and Finder of Things That Should Not Be Found, though one might argue that the finding bit was less a skill and more of a… cosmic inconvenience.”
He straightened, eyes twinkling like misbehaving stars.
“That’s Fidgwic, by the way.” He tapped his chest with a clawed thumb. “Sounds like Fridge-Wick, without the R. Fid-jwik. Hard FID. Quick jwik. Easy enough, unless you’re determined to embarrass yourself. In which case, I look forward to it.”
He tilted his head, peering at Kevin with a squint.
“And you must be the rather bewildered Kevin. You look exactly as I expected. Which is… concerning.”
A pause. Then softer, more to himself than to Kevin:
“Funny, you always start with that same look. Bewildered, a little damp, and completely unaware of what’s waiting in the ruins and shadows and… well, never mind all that. Spoilers.”
His grin returned full force, all teeth and no comfort.
“Shall we get started then? Destiny doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and she’s already fashionably late.”
Kevin narrowed his eyes. “How the hell do you know my name?”
He studied the glow-imp carefully while waiting for it to answer, something tickling at the back of his mind. “I’ve heard of your kind before,” he added. “Glow-imps. Always causing trouble, sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Most people can’t stand them.”
The creature didn’t flinch. In fact, his grin only widened, as if Kevin had just complimented him. His glow pulsed faintly. He was pleased, maybe.
Fidgwic placed a hand on his chest, eyes wide with exaggerated offense. “Oh, how tragic! The cruel burden of a misunderstood genius! If only the world could appreciate my many talents instead of fearing my unparalleled wit and charm!” He let out a dramatic sigh before peering at Kevin with a mischievous glint. “Besides, can you blame us? Trouble is just so terribly fun.”
Fidgwic tapped his temple. “I know things. Some things, not all things. But enough.”
“Enough for what?”
Fidgwic’s yellow eyes flicked to the side. “Enough to know that you’re in trouble.”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “I’m always in trouble.”
Fidgwic grinned, a sharp, too-wide thing. “Not like this.”
Kevin shouldered his pack, keeping an eye on the glow-imp. Something about Fidgwic felt… off. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but like he was playing a game only he understood. Still, if the little guy knew something useful, it was better than wandering blind.
“Alright,” Kevin said, standing. “Then tell me what I don’t know.”
Fidgwic’s grin faded. “You shouldn’t be here, not like this.”
Kevin frowned. “What does that mean?”
Fidgwic let out an exaggerated sigh, turning away with a flick of his long fingers. “Come along then, Kevin. We have places to be, people to avoid, and a general sense of impending doom to outmaneuver.” He took a few steps before glancing over his shoulder, his yellow eyes glinting. “Or, you could stay here and wait to find out just how much trouble you’re actually in. Your choice.”
* * *
The town was quiet, but not empty. The air carried the weight of something recently broken. Doors hung ajar, windows were shattered, and the distant smell of smoke mixed with the staleness of fear. Shadows stretched unnaturally under the flickering lanterns that lined the street, casting jagged shapes across the cracked cobblestones. Kevin stayed low, creeping along the side of a half-collapsed wall, careful not to kick up loose debris that might give away his presence. The stillness wasn’t natural; it was the kind that came when people were too afraid to leave their homes.
Near the town’s inn, a handful of figures loitered, their posture tense, their hushed voices carrying an urgency Kevin had learned to recognize in dangerous men. He edged closer, straining to hear.
“We need that artifact,” one of them muttered, his voice rough with frustration. “Before anyone else gets their hands on it. The ley lines are shifting.”
A grunt of acknowledgment followed. “You think someone already has it?”
“Doesn’t matter. If they do, they won’t hold onto it for long.”
Another voice, this one lower and edged with certainty, chimed in. “If it’s where we think it is, we need to move now. The longer we wait, the more the balance shifts.”
Kevin felt the weight of their words settle in his gut. He didn’t know what artifact they were talking about, but something in the way they spoke—like they were already chasing something unseen—sent a chill through him. This wasn’t ordinary business, and whatever they were after, he had a sinking feeling it had more to do with him than he’d like.
Fidgwic, perched nearby on a broken post, observed Kevin’s expression carefully. His large yellow eyes narrowed, his antennae twitching slightly, as though he could sense the tension rolling off Kevin. When Kevin turned to ask him something, Fidgwic let out a quiet, amused sigh, shaking his head as if Kevin had just confirmed something he already suspected. Then, with a voice barely above a whisper, he muttered under his breath, almost too quiet to hear:
“Ah, the weight of ignorance. It’s almost endearing… almost.”
“Oh, you poor idiot. You have no idea, do you?”
Kevin stiffened. “What was that?”
Fidgwic blinked innocently. “Nothing. We should move.”
Kevin clenched his jaw but didn’t argue. Not yet.
* * *
That night, Kevin’s dreams were swallowed by an inferno, flames licking hungrily at the edges of his vision, consuming everything in their path. Buildings collapsed into themselves like kindling, streets turned to rivers of molten ruin. People screamed and scattered, but there was nowhere to run. No escape, only fire.
At the center of it all, something burned brighter than the rest. Suspended in the air, above the devastation, a sigil shimmered. It was etched in flame and carved into the sky like a wound that refused to close. It pulsed with impossible energy, rhythmic and ancient, and though Kevin didn’t recognize it, the shape tugged at something in him. A circle, broken at one edge. Three inward-pointing lines. Runes, maybe. Or wards.
The heat grew unbearable. Kevin raised a hand, drawn toward it, his fingers just grazing the sigil’s edge
He woke with a sharp breath.
Fidgwic was watching him.
Kevin tensed, heart still hammering from the dream. “You watching me sleep now?”
Fidgwic didn’t flinch, didn’t grin, didn’t joke. “You saw something.”
Kevin exhaled, rubbing his face. “I don’t know what I saw.”
Fidgwic nodded slowly, as if that confirmed something for him. “You will.”
Kevin stared at him, unsettled. “Why are you sticking around?”
Fidgwic stretched his spindly limbs, his glow pulsing faintly. “Ah, an excellent question. A question for the ages. A question with many answers, none of which you’re likely to find reassuring.”
Kevin sat up, eyes narrowing. “Try me.”
Fidgwic tilted his head, considering. “Very well. First, you amuse me. Second, I have an inconvenient habit of meddling. Third…” He paused—just long enough to notice. “You’ve stumbled into something bigger than either of us. And while I could leave you to burn in it alone… well. That seems rude.”
Kevin’s jaw clenched. “So you’re here out of courtesy?”
Fidgwic smiled, wide and lopsided. “Let’s say… investment.”
Kevin didn’t like that answer. He didn’t like much about any of this, really. The dream, the artifact, the town’s silence. The voice in his head was quiet for now, but its absence felt more like a held breath than a reprieve.
He looked at the glowimp again. “You think I’m part of some prophecy, don’t you?”
Fidgwic didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
Kevin pushed to his feet, brushing dust from his coat. He stared down the broken street, toward the smoke curling in the distance. Whatever the cabal wanted, whatever the voice knew, whatever Fidgwic wasn’t saying. It was coming.
And this time, running wouldn’t be enough.