1.5
Sûlmain sat in the high-backed chair by his bed with his head in his hands. The sun came up earlier than he would have liked. Time passed too quickly for him to get ample sleep. As he sat, his head throbbed and his whole body ached. Time passed too slowly. Perhaps sitting and feeling sorry for himself would make tomorrow come sooner.
The door to his chamber opened. Sûlmain looked up. Master Dalen stood tall with his arms folded in his red robes. Intricate runes adored his attire in varied patterns. Whether they were decoration or magical, Sûlmain did not know.
“Where have you been?” the sorcerer demanded in a low voice.
Sûlmain’s eyes dropped closed as he sighed. “I was in town…doing what everyone does once a year.” He opened his eyes to look at his Master. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
The sorcerer strode into the room to five feet away. As he moved forward, he seemed to grow. Sûlmain felt increasingly small.
“How dare you defy me, child?” Master Dalin growled. “Did you think I would overlook such insolence?”
“No. I did not. And I expected that I would have to submit to your wrath.” Sûlmain braced himself. “But there is something that happened last night that might be of interest to you.” He reached over and grabbed a pouch from the table. From it he produced the thonged gem. “I was given this.”
His master’s demeanor became inquisitive as he held it close to his eyes. “What is it?” he asked as he held it up to the light.
“I do not yet know.”
“Who gave this to you?”
“There was a witch outside…”
“WHAT?” Master Dalin had broken into a shout. “You will NOT associate with witches!” He hurled the gem across the room. As his voice raised, it was as if the room shook, as if the very manor itself feared him. For a moment, Sûlmain thought his heart had stopped. He felt his strength of will leaving him, and it took every ounce of courage he had to keep from throwing himself on the floor before his master to beg forgiveness.
His master continued his rant. “They are despicable creatures! Peasants all! Do you not realize that you already have the degree of power that even the greatest of them cannot attain? Stay away from her! This I command! Remember that she has no interest in you other than the Gift imbedded deep in your soul! And it is NOT unknown for them to strip the life from sorcerers for the sake of increasing power.”
Master Dalin stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind him, knocking trinkets from the wall and dislodging a shelf that fell with a crash.
Sûlmain lowered his head into his hands. His stomach wretched. He grabbed a vase and emptied its contents onto the floor for his immediate use.
The thonged crystal, a fused mix of diamonds and glass, rested on the floor, glinting in the sunlight. Its unnatural beauty was something that could have enlivened a vomitorium. Assuming, of course, that anyone cared to notice.
The door to his chamber opened. Sûlmain looked up. Master Dalen stood tall with his arms folded in his red robes. Intricate runes adored his attire in varied patterns. Whether they were decoration or magical, Sûlmain did not know.
“Where have you been?” the sorcerer demanded in a low voice.
Sûlmain’s eyes dropped closed as he sighed. “I was in town…doing what everyone does once a year.” He opened his eyes to look at his Master. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
The sorcerer strode into the room to five feet away. As he moved forward, he seemed to grow. Sûlmain felt increasingly small.
“How dare you defy me, child?” Master Dalin growled. “Did you think I would overlook such insolence?”
“No. I did not. And I expected that I would have to submit to your wrath.” Sûlmain braced himself. “But there is something that happened last night that might be of interest to you.” He reached over and grabbed a pouch from the table. From it he produced the thonged gem. “I was given this.”
His master’s demeanor became inquisitive as he held it close to his eyes. “What is it?” he asked as he held it up to the light.
“I do not yet know.”
“Who gave this to you?”
“There was a witch outside…”
“WHAT?” Master Dalin had broken into a shout. “You will NOT associate with witches!” He hurled the gem across the room. As his voice raised, it was as if the room shook, as if the very manor itself feared him. For a moment, Sûlmain thought his heart had stopped. He felt his strength of will leaving him, and it took every ounce of courage he had to keep from throwing himself on the floor before his master to beg forgiveness.
His master continued his rant. “They are despicable creatures! Peasants all! Do you not realize that you already have the degree of power that even the greatest of them cannot attain? Stay away from her! This I command! Remember that she has no interest in you other than the Gift imbedded deep in your soul! And it is NOT unknown for them to strip the life from sorcerers for the sake of increasing power.”
Master Dalin stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind him, knocking trinkets from the wall and dislodging a shelf that fell with a crash.
Sûlmain lowered his head into his hands. His stomach wretched. He grabbed a vase and emptied its contents onto the floor for his immediate use.
The thonged crystal, a fused mix of diamonds and glass, rested on the floor, glinting in the sunlight. Its unnatural beauty was something that could have enlivened a vomitorium. Assuming, of course, that anyone cared to notice.
posted by irreverance @ Friday, May 06, 2005
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