Today's Words from the Work-in-Progress - October 31, 2022 - Simon's Heir

I'm currently writing the final hundred or so entries for Another 365 Days of Flash Fiction, and I start each one of them with the first words that come into my head and go from there, so they're a mixed batch.

This is the second 'Simon' story that's arrived in the last week...and I'm kinda liking the way the world is building around the wizard. This one is about his legacy, and I'll put it here in full. It's also a cat story, and this isn't the first time this cat has appeared. She has something to say, I think.

Simon's Heir

Simon stood on the wall where the mage had died. He wanted the wind to go away. He wanted the magic to cease, to leave him out of its senseless ramblings. He did not want to end up like his namesake, Simon-on-the-Wall. He wanted to live.

A faint mewing interrupted his thoughts, the cat suddenly winding around his shins catching him by surprise.

“What? You think I should become a wizard?”

She curled once more around his calf, then seated herself in front of him.

“You do, don’t you?”

Simon couldn’t believe it. Even the stray cats were nagging him. It was bad enough the seer had come and told him 'a storm approaches and your shelter is needed.'

“But…”

The cat’s eyes grew large and it stared at him.

“Don’t you…”

It mewed, again, pitifully.

“But I don’t magic…and I really don’t want to die. I don’t care if my mother named me after him. I don’t want to have inherited his gifts.”

The cat continued to stare, but said nothing. Heavy steps from the direction of the guardhouse, alerted him to the guard’s approach, but he didn’t expect the man to stop beside him.

“If it helps,” the man said, “Your father was alone.”

“It doesn’t,” the boy snapped.

“No, but I also wanted to tell you that, this time, you wouldn’t be.” He stopped, turning to stare across the hills beyond the walls. “This was the last view he had…”

“That’s not comforting,” Simon told him.

The man sighed.

“Well, while it isn’t bad as views go, none of us want it to be your last…and now we have a dozen mages.”

“My point exactly,” Simon told him. “You don’t need me.”

“The seer says we do.”

“Seers are only human,” Simon said. “They make mistakes.”

“This one doesn’t,” the soldier told him, turning to look the boy in the eye. “If I promise to stand by you, to let nothing harm you, and to make sure you don’t over-extend, will you help keep me alive?”

Put like that, it wasn’t a request he could refuse, but Simon still glared at the cat.

“This is all your fault,” he grumbled.

It flicked its tail and licked its paw, purring with contentment.