LITMIR.BIZ

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the squire receive their introduction to magic. But nobody can tell how long it will stay that way.”

      “What has happened?” Esara asked, her voice a monotone.

      “The past is being blown away by the winds of prophecy.”

      The druid pursed his lips and puffed in Esara’s face. Esara shivered.

      “Worry has struck the arcanists and the wise of Pentamuria. You know the ancient legends, the songs and hymns of the past?”

      Esara lowered her head in assent.

      “They are all that is left from the past, for before the Mages of Ringwall there were others who governed it, and again before that. Each period had its own truths. We only recall them in tales, phrases and songs. Do you remember the Book of Prophecy?”

      “No.”

      “You have forgotten much, my dear. The truth-tellers of the five kingdoms, great sorcerers all, the old druids, the wise women of the Oa, many shaman and even the archmages with the Magon, their leader, they are all convinced that the time of change spoken of in the Book of Prophecy is due in the next two generations. ‘Nothing shall be as it was before. Wastelands will take the place of cities. Verdant oases will bloom where once there was wasteland. The reigning will serve, and the servants will reign,’ the story of Gnaffting, the blind metal-seer tells.

      “The Mages of Ringwall want to prevent the prophecies. They believe that they can change fate. But they cannot do so on their own. As such, they have decided to unite all magical groups in Pentamuria, and everyone with magical capabilities will be taught in their ways. We have yet to see whether they will be successful. Oas, druids and shaman are cautious, for their past experiences with the mighty circle of mages were not always good. Apart from that, Pentamuria is not just the five kingdoms. There is magic in the fringe-worlds too, and most of it is not human. But that is of little interest to us. The only thing that counts is that the mages have opened their venerable doors. Nill can go to Ringwall if he so desires.” The last words were directed at Esara as Dakh-Ozz-Han fixed her in his gaze.

      A new world began to take shape in front of Nill’s eyes. For a moment, heroism and fame were banished. He saw a mage standing before him. He wore a long white robe and a serious expression on his face. One hand was reaching to the sky, connected to the stars, the other gesturing at the people below him, expelling war, disease and death. Yes, this was what Nill wanted.

      “You could become a sorcerer there, perhaps even a warlock someday,” Dakh-Ozz-Han said.

      “I want to be a mage,” Nill announced solemnly.

      Esara’s face contorted to a grimace of pain

      “Who knows? Maybe a mage, then,” Dakh-Ozz-Han smiled. “That is your decision, and depends only on how much strength and skill you show. And on how ready you are to labor. Have you any experience with magic?”

      “No,” Esara interrupted. “He doesn’t know a single incantation, cannot neither banish nor summon, cannot strengthen or weaken a thing and he cannot see, either.”

      Nill was surprised at the sudden outburst, as Esara had shown little of her feelings up until now. She fought, but against what? And why was she so distressed?

      The druid gave her a long look. “He will not come if he does not want to, and neither if you do not want him to. But you know that what you have said is not the truth.” Dakh’s voice had become so quiet that even Nill’s sharp ears could not comprehend his whispers. “Have you not seen his knife? The blade is full of magic and the boy does not even realize. Nobody with a grasp on magic who does not have a teacher lives a long life. You know that as well as I. Nobody with any sort of magical ability can evade it, and they will make mistakes, and their own gift will be their downfall. I ask you, Esara: is that what you want?”

      Esara lowered her gaze to the floor and swallowed. Had she not called Dakh-Ozz-Han to this far-off village, even if she was deaf to her own scream? Esara straightened up and stood tall as a queen. “The day is old. Stay the night and leave tomorrow, as early as is possible.”

      There was not much to talk about that night. Nill tossed about in fitful slumber. Dakh slept like a stone, while Esara collected the few items Nill was to take with him the next morning. It was not much: a few bindings for his feet in case of cold weather, a blanket, a second overcoat, a pouch with bread and cheese, and his weather-clothing, consisting of a long cloak and a wide hat. Finally she pulled out an old wooden disk from a bundle of children’s clothes.

      The next morning, after a simple yet strong meal, they departed. Esara looked deep into Nill’s eyes, embraced him and hung the band with the small wooden disk around his neck.

      “This here is an amulet. You were wearing it when Roddick found you. I am sure it came from your parents, and I am also sure that they gave it to you for a reason. Perhaps it will lead you to them someday. Farewell.”

      “Why did you never tell me of this?” Nill asked. The slight note of accusation in his words was not missed, but Esara did not react to it.

      “The people do not always understand magical objects. Roddick is a clever man. He took the amulet from you and gave it to me with the rest of your things. He knew what he was doing. It is better if the villagers don’t know about your amulet. It is now your decision to wear it openly or not, and who will see it and who won’t.”

      Nill laughed out loud. The excitement of his future in the magical world could not be contained, and his face told of it. “Well, Dakh for example! He knows that I’m wearing an amulet now.” He gave the druid something of a challenging look.

      The druid’s face seemed like a rough, untouched tree-trunk. Angular, with deep shadows cast by the rising sun which had by now displaced the dawn, unmoved in the early morning wind. All the creases and lines that usually made his face more alive were now simple, broken marks. Dakh-Ozz-Han looked into the distance with a vacant expression on his face, as though he had not heard Nill.

      “We must go now, Esara!” The way he spoke her name evoked the possibility of another long story about the past, present and future. Esara understood. This was not goodbye. It was the beginning of a new tale.

      Nill noticed nothing. The moment’s meaning passed him completely. He was impatient and could not understand why Dakh and Esara took so much time standing together in silence. If all had been said, they could go. He did not know that not everything had been said, not by a long way.

      After what seemed like an age the druid turned around and began to walk with his long, calm steps. Esara kept looking long after the two had disappeared.

      *

      The air was still cold and stabbed at the lungs, but the grayish-yellow on the horizon promised another hot day.

      “Ringwall lies in the direction of Woodhold. We will be going towards the morning sun, however, until we reach the outskirts of Metal World,” the druid said. “That way we can avoid the villages.”

      Nill did not understand why they were supposed to avoid the villages. He had expected to enter every village as Dakh-Ozz-Han had: powerfully, spectacularly and in the manner of a king. Nill had a hard time concealing his disappointment, but Dakh-Ozz-Han acted as though he had not noticed.

      The druid and the boy kept an even pace, as experienced wanderers do when they have a long way to travel. It was important to move quickly and achieve a good stretch before resting in the early afternoon, at which point they waited for the heat to pass. Nill had taken the lead for now, as he knew every path in the vicinity of his village. At first he stuck to the old path he had taken every morning with his herd. He answered the druid’s questioning look: “I have an old friend to say goodbye to.”

      But it was not goodbye. The old ram stood atop the hill where he had always waited, tilted his head to one side and gave the druid a wary glance. He let neither Nill nor Dakh come within twenty paces of him.

      “It looks like it doesn’t trust us,”

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