Nightwidow - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Birth of Nightwidow

It was a cool autumn afternoon and a red sun hung lazily on the horizon. Several large red brick buildings cast long shadows on the well-maintained grounds of the Cisin Academy of the Crafts. Fragrant red and yellow flowers neatly planted in beds sat next to stone walkways that interconnected the buildings.
Three teenage boys, who were all dressed in the same uniform- brown baggy pants with tucked in white collared shirts, occupied a spot on a grassy field that was well outside the ring of buildings. In the center of the practice field, a long row of stuffed and worn leather practice dummies with ringed yellow targets on their chest hung from a long beam like an army of silent sentinels. As most of the students knew, the dummies faced the buildings and provided excellent cover for clandestine meetings. The three boys who stood behind the dummies had a good reason to hide, they were gambling, which was against school rules.
One of the boys was a tall, lanky, and had short red hair and was about seventeen years old. Standing beside him were two others boys about his age, a small pile of silver coins lay at their feet.
The red headed boy held a small wooden-handled belt knife. He concentrated for a moment, furrowed his brow then threw the knife in the air with a slow under pitch. The knife spun end over end and landed well away from a stick stuck in the ground. Two other knives were already in the ground and both were much closer than his, and much to the red-haired boy’s annoyance, one knife was nearly touching the stick.
The red-haired boy knew instantly that he had lost again and was clearly not happy about it. He let out a curse that would make any Mother gasp. “Bloody damn hell, not again!”
“You lose, Shoren. Mine’s the closest!” A blonde headed boy with a long pony tail named Nate exclaimed. He then celebrated his good shot with a goofy little dance.
Next to the blonde boy was a medium height, dark skinned boy with tight black curly hair named Vechel. “Wow, Shoren, you do worse than me! I thought you get good marks in all your weapons classes?” he teased in his thick accent. It was well known that Vechel had immigrated from a far off desert land called Omal when he was small but would never talk about why he and his family had left.
The boy called Shoren frowned, feeling defensive over this remark and said, “Yeah, yeah, Vechel, why don’t you go jump in the lake!” he said, flinging his arm in the general direction of the campus lake. Vechel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a grin at Shoren’s antics.
Shoren took no notice of Vechel’s reaction; instead he pointed to Nate and said half-seriously, “I think we should check to see if he is using magic, I think he’s cheating!”
Vechel laughed at this.
Nate teased Shoren by saying, “Hey, I’m not in the mage program unlike your girlfriend.”
Shoren gave his friend an annoyed look. “Girlfriend, what the heck are you talking about?”
“You know, Laurin…Lauren…,” Nate said, pretending he didn’t know the girl’s name to get Shoren to say it.
“You mean Laurenia Silverleaf?” Shoren responded, falling for his friend’s ploy.
“Yeah, her! Aren’t you two supposed to be dating or something?” Nate grinned, knowing this was a sore subject for him.
Shoren gave his friend a dirty look. “I don’t want to talk about that!”
Vechel jumped in. “I heard Verly call you on it in hallway and you went and put hand on her arm and she threatened to take it off!”
Nate and Vechel started laughing really hard at Shoren’s expense.
“Verly is a moron! Look, can’t we just forget about it?” Shoren snapped. He turned to Nate to give him a dose of his own medicine. “Heck you and Kara act like you two are married. Just look at the way she hangs on you. Why do you put up with it?”
Not letting Shoren’s comment get to him, Nate brushed it off. “What can I say, she has it bad for me,” he said with a pretend sigh.
Shoren groaned as Nate reached down for the money he won, causing his long pony tail to swing over his shoulder. Nate scooped up the coins and deposited them in his pocket.
Shoren’s mood worsened when he heard the clock tower bell chime five times. “Bloody hell, I’m going to be late for my five o’clock meeting!” Shoren exclaimed.
“Meeting wit who?” Vechel asked with a puzzled look.
“School Headmaster,” Shoren explained as he quickly pulled his knife from the ground, wiped off the dirt, and slid it in his belt sheath.
Nate shook his head at his fellow fourth year student. “Are you in trouble again, Shoren? For crying out loud, fall semester just started! You better be careful, that old man could kick you out!”
“No, I’m not in trouble again, look I gotta get going,” Shoren said impatiently.
“Well I hope you don’t get kicked out because what would me and Vechel here do for money then? We need it to get us through the year,” Nate joked.
Shoren groaned. “Yeah, yeah, very funny, rich boy! I’ll explain later at supper time,” Shoren said as he took off running west toward the Central Hall.
As he ran, he heard Vechel arguing for half of the money, saying that since he came in second he should get his fair share. Shoren didn’t have time to turn around and see if Nate had obliged.
“Three silver coins, how could I been so stupid? My family depends on my stipend due to Dad’s old injury. I am lucky to be at the academy in the first place. God, I am such a moron,” he chided himself out loud as he rounded the corner of one of the stone walkways and headed for the Central Hall at full speed.
Shoren looked at the clock hands on the bell. The minute hand pointed to two minutes after. ‘That old geezer is going to be furious’ he thought to himself as he rubbed his high cheekbone in deep worry. Up ahead, he could see Central Hall, which housed the Headmaster’s office as well as offices for the other Academy teachers and staff, the mess hall, and extra study rooms.
One memory about what kind of punishment the Headmaster could dish out popped into his brain. Almost exactly one year ago, an unpopular first year mage-cadet used a nasty retch spell on a group of upperclassman in the mess hall, not that they didn’t deserve it, of course. To be locked in an outhouse during a hot day would make anyone seething with revenge, but in his anger, the unpopular boy broke one of the school’s cardinal rules: Never use magic on school grounds or on other cadets unless instructed to do so. For breaking this major rule, the Headmaster made the young mage scrub the mess hall floor with a hand brush for a straight week. Everyone knew the Headmaster was not a man to be crossed.
This and other similar thoughts of Shoren’s impending doom and punishment whisked through his mind as he ran past the boy’s red brick dormitory. Finally, he was getting close.
After nearly three more minutes of running, Shoren ran up the marbled steps and past four more doors. On his left was at the Headmaster’s office. He skidded to a halt and gingerly knocked. A guff voice responded, “That better be you Cadet Vodeer or else, so help me!”
“It’s me…sir,” Shoren panted as he pushed open the dark oak door. The Academy Headmaster, Gideon Falvus, was standing behind his old hickory desk shuffling through an enormous stack of rolled up scrolls. The Headmaster was an old man with a trim white beard, bad teeth and electric blue eyes. He was wearing his usual attire, which was blue robes, with five gold bands on the left sleeve.
Shoren stood in the doorway as the Headmaster looked at an ornate clock on his wall and frowned. Shoren expected to be invited in but instead the Headmaster picked up a scroll and looked it over for a second. “Where is that blasted map?” He growled and then rolled the scroll back up and promptly tossed it on a large pile on the floor.
“Sir?” Shoren inquired.
“About time Cadet Vodeer, I guess you have yet to learn the habit of punctuality. Perhaps I should double your kitchen duties as a reminder?” the Headmaster threatened as he picked up a different parchment and looked it over. “Aha! There you are!” He rolled up the scroll and held it in his hand.
“Double my duties! I… I… forgot, sir. I promise it won’t happen again. Please I am already behind in my duties as it is,” Shoren stammered. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the gray and white tiled floor. Shoren silently fumed that the Headmaster was so annoyed that he was only a few minutes late.
The Headmaster let out a heavy sigh. “Shoren, I have a very important and dangerous assignment for you. I....”
“An assignment, sir! What kind?” Shoren excitedly said. He had been hoping for something like this for a long time.
“Don’t interrupt me, boy or I’ll have you scrubbing pots until your teeth fall out, understand?” The old man’s eyes lit up like a blacksmith’s forge as he angrily pointed the scroll at Shoren, who could swear the Headmaster’s eyes glowed red for a split second.
“Yes, s-s-sir,” Shoren stammered again.
“Good, now take a seat,” the Headmaster said. Shoren was about to sit on the large comfortable–looking couch next to him when the Headmaster made a quick wave with his hand. Suddenly, a wooden chair zoomed from behind Shoren and sharply clipped him at the back of the knees, forcing him to sit down hard. Shoren frowned at not being to sit on the couch. He figured this was the Headmaster’s way of getting even with him for being late.
“Oww! But what about school? I mean classes just started. Won’t the other teachers get mad at me not being in class?” Shoren asked as he rubbed the stinging area on the back of his legs.
“I have made arrangements that I will explain in detail tomorrow. In the meantime, we have much to talk about,” the Headmaster said as he set the scroll on his chair so that it wouldn’t be lost in the pile on his desk. He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth behind his desk.
“Let me start off by first asking you some questions. I think this will be the fastest way to bring you up to speed on what I need you to do. Let’s see?” the Headmaster said tapping his chin. “You know of the Great War, I hope?”
Shoren thought for a moment. “Yes, it happened over Seven hundred years ago, in the late Seven hundreds, where a king, I can’t remember his name though, conquered the wild lands to the west and put all of Arenia under one banner.”
The Headmaster nodded approvingly. “The king was King Parsus, by the way. Do you know how he was able to do this?”
“He was the first to make contact with the reclusive Gargites, get the magical stone Mannite and made weapons and armor far superior to what anyone else had.”
The Headmaster nodded again and produced a goblet and a bottle of cherry-red wine from an oak cabinet behind him and poured himself a drink. “And what is Mannite used for?”
“It’s the raw material that is used to create mana stones that store magical energy for spell, made into glow lights, used to magik weapons, basically it’s a source of power,” Shoren said. He wondered if his history teacher had complained about his daydreaming in class and complained to the Headmaster and that was why he was really here.
“Exactly right. So tell me how did the Royal Orchard get started?” he said and then took a drink.
At first Shoren had trouble remembering how it related but then it came to him. “Oh, some one tried to assassinate King Parsus and his brother-in-law jumped in the way of the arrow and he, I mean the brother-in-law, was killed. The King and his brother-in-law, Dradian Lothar, had discovered a sweet new kind of apple, while exploring the wild lands so the King had the Royal Orchard planted in his honor, but it is suppose to be haunted and that no one in their right mind would go there,” Shoren said with a smile, pleased that he could remember this information.
“And why is that?” the Headmaster asked.
“That?” Shoren asked puzzled.
“Haunted, Shoren, why is it haunted?” The Headmaster asked, now annoyed.
“Right, uh, after the King died, he tried to have his twin sons rule together but instead they declared war on each other and it was called the Blood War. My Mom told me I have a relative who fought in that war. Anyway, the twins killed each other in the Royal Orchard and their ghosts are said to haunt the orchard. ”
“That’s part of it. In the orchard, there was a special tree. The one where the twin kings died. This tree fed on the twin’s blood. Afterward, it became huge and twisted and its apples very toxic.” The Headmaster took another drink from his goblet and set it on his desk.
Shoren shook his head in disbelief. He had never heard of such a thing before.
“That is why the orchard was declared haunted and signs were posted saying as much. No one has ever see ghosts there as far as I know.”
Shoren shifted in stiff wooden chair to try and make himself more comfortable, but it didn’t do much good.
The Headmaster poured more wine into his goblet and continued. “You mentioned earlier that you had an ancestor who died in the Blood War?
Shoren nodded.
“While the Blood War was going on, the ancestor you mentioned had a son by the name of Cloniphus, whose last name is not known. It is Cloniphus’ Father who is killed in the Blood War. A year later, Cloniphus’ Mother is slain by enemy soldiers making him an orphan at eleven years old. After his Mother’s death, he swears he is going to kill the twin kings for taking his parents away from him.”
“How did he survive during such an awful time?” Shoren asked.
“Cloniphus survived because he was extremely gifted with magic and used illusions to trick people into buying worthless junk thinking it was something of value.”
“Hmm, but Cloniphus didn’t kill the twin kings. They killed each other, right?” Shoren asked.
“Yes and Cloniphus was but fifteen when that happened but his desire for revenge is so strong he planned on killing the named heir so he set about to make the most powerful sword of all time to enable him to do this. However, he didn’t have the means to make the sword he wanted so but that soon changes. One day Cloniphus visits the Royal Orchard to wail and rant at the dead Kings for taking away his parents. Fatefully, he finds human skeletons under the poison tree. I find it strange to think that the tree that the twins caused to grow due to their extreme malice actually gave Cloniphus to means to go after an heir,” the Headmaster commented and drank from his goblet.
Shoren shook his head at the irony and tried to absorb all that he had heard, but he was finding this difficult to do. His stomach began to make loud rumbling noises. Shoren realized it wasn’t just due to the talk of apples that made him hungry. When he looked at the clock, it said 6:30. He had completely missed supper and thought about asking for food but decided he might get a tongue lashing instead.
The Headmaster continued. “Cloniphus quickly figured how the people died and took some of apples home to study them more. Later on, he went back chopped down the tree so others couldn’t use it and collected all the apples. He knew he would need money to make his sword so he turned the apples into the best poison around and made a fortune selling it to assassin guilds. He knew he had to sell only enough to make as much as he needed. The rest he saved for his creation. He wanted a sword that would absorb the poison and could kill with a scratch, but he lacked the ‘smithing abilities.”
“What did he do?” Shoren asked, completely fascinated by the story of his relative.
“Using his newly found wealth, Cloniphus hired the best blacksmith he could find, a Gargite named Durl.”
“Why a Gargite? I thought Dwarves were usually the best blacksmiths?” Shoren wondered.
“Actually, Dwarves are best at working with iron, Gargites are best when it comes to working with Mannite.” The Headmaster corrected.
Shoren understood; only Mannite would do what Cloniphus wanted.
“So, Cloniphus and the blacksmith after many years of research and work fashioned a new magical metal that could absorb and retain the poison liquid. As requested, the blacksmith designed a truly wicked looking blade for Cloniphus. The pommel at the top of the hilt was shaped like a black widow and it had eight rubies for eyes. Cloniphus didn’t stop there. He also magiked the sword with other charms and I only know of one in particular. Cloniphus placed a loyalty curse on it so that it will kill anyone who is not a blood relative that picks it up. He anticipated that if he died, the sword would most likely taken by the person that killed him since his killer would probably want such a powerful weapon.”
“I know I would,” Shoren said.
The Headmaster ignored Shoren’s comment and continued. “Cloniphus named the sword Nightwidow and just to test it, he plunged the blade deep into the blacksmith’s heart. The poor Gargite was dead as soon as the tip scratched his skin.”
“He sounded completely mad!” Shoren said with wide-eyed disgust
“He was,” the Headmaster said.
“This all begs the question was there ever an heir named after the twins?” Shoren asked.
“Let me ask you, have you ever heard of an Elf named Aldus Silverleaf?”
“He helped start the High Council?” Shoren said.
“Right, he is the one who brought the local nobles together to end the bickering and in-fighting left by the death of the twin kings who, to answer your question, had no heirs. Cloniphus was enraged that Aldus did this. He deeply believed that had Aldus not brought the nobles together an heir would have been named, even if this person was not really related to the twin kings. Cloniphus then planned to go after that person. Personally, in addition to revenge, I think what Cloniphus wanted to make a name for himself. I guess Aldus must have gotten tired of being threatened and they faced off inside an old temple on an island in Dagger Sea called Vesnu. Cloniphus is bested by Aldus and that is where Nightwidow is and where I want you to go.”
Shoren was stunned by this. He had no idea the mission would be so involved and far away. “That’s quite a ways away. I don’t think my parents will be too happy about me doing something like this.”
“Yes, I realize it is nothing like you have ever done before, but I think you are ready for something of this…magnitude,” the Headmaster said. He hoped that by bolstering Shoren’s fading enthusiasm, his student wouldn’t suddenly back out, but then the Headmaster caught a look on Shoren’s face that made him pull out the biggest carrot he had. “I guess now is the best time for me to tell you what I am offering. Shoren, I promise you, if you succeed in this task, I can ensure that you will have the pick of whatever career you chose as well as quite a bit of money I have been saving up for this day. I realize how hard it has been since your Father was injured and unable to work.
“It’s been tough, but we Vodeers don’t go down without a fight,” Shoren said with a grin.
“Yes, I have heard that about your family,” the Headmaster said with a nod. “So what do you think?”
Shoren took a deep breath and thought about what he would tell his parents before he left. He ran several scenarios through his head, but they all ended with his Mother freaking out and his Father threatening him with grave bodily harm. Shoren was about to say no, but the lure of what he was being offered began to creep in. His family never had much money, in fact they were quite poor, their house was small, they raised most of the food they ate, and presents were few and far between. He didn’t want to be poor any more.
Shoren remembered the day, almost three years ago, when the Headmaster came to his home and told them the good news. He explained that there was a new secret program being started for exceptional students and that Shoren’s tuition would be waved and he would get a small stipend to boot. There was something that bothered Shoren about the whole deal at the time. Shoren wasn’t exceptional. He was smart, no doubt, but he knew of five other kids from his village school who were smarter. He was a hell of got shot with a bow, but there were others who were better.
The only person that Shoren had ever told was his best friend, Nate. Shoren then thought of the night two years ago when he told Nate that the Headmaster had quietly arranged for him to get into the Academy for reasons that now were abundantly clear. The Headmaster had been waiting for this day for a long time, for Shoren, a poor farm boy who happened to be able to wield a mighty weapon, to come of the proper age to go to the Academy and be willing to go to a far off land to retrieve an ancient sword. Shoren can still remember what Nate told him after he divulged his secret, ’All I know is that we all have a role to play in this world and this is yours.’
Doubts lingered in his mind as he wondered what the right thing to do was. He was angry with the Headmaster for using him, but the lure of the money was too great. He finally decided. “I’ll do it!”
The Headmaster’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Very good, Shoren, very good indeed. Now that that is out of the way, we have some more details to discuss. Back to Aldus Silverleaf, who if you didn’t know, is the great, great grandfather of a current Governor, Calindor Silverleaf.”
“Hmm, didn’t know that,” Shoren commented, pretending to be interested in this tidbit. His recent realization had caused Shoren to distrust his Headmaster, but he knew he better damn well not let his true feeling surface, too much was at stake.
“Oh before I forget here is the map that shows where Vesnu is located, so you have an idea of where you are going. Don’t worry I’ll give you the map at a later date,” the Headmaster said and then took a seat at his desk, tired of standing. He took the crisp rolled map off his desk and handed it to Shoren.
Shoren nodded and studied the map. The name Silverleaf brought up images of Laurenia, who as much as Nate teased, Shoren hoped she would be his girlfriend some day, but as far as he could tell, she was not the least bit interested in him. He had been told by Nate that Laurenia was the daughter of Governor Silverleaf, the same person the Headmaster had just mentioned, but Shoren wasn’t sure he believe everything Nate told him so he asked, “The Silverleaf girl, here at the Academy, is she related to Governor Silverleaf?
“It’s his daughter, why do you ask?”
“Oh nothing, I was just wondering,” Shoren said, trying to sound disinterested.
The Headmaster wasn’t fooled. “Uh huh, I may be old but I still understand how boys and girls get feelings for each other.”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” Shoren lied; embarrassed that the Headmaster knew he had a crush on Laurenia so he changed the subject. “What about the other apple trees? Weren’t they poisonous too?”.
“It seemed not, I think it was because of the twins dying there that really tainted that tree. I personally went there and experimented with the other apples a few years back and they were normal,” the Headmaster said.
Shoren studied the map some more and handed it back to the Headmaster. He then asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how is it that you know so much about my ancestor, Cloniphus?”
The Headmaster turned in his chair and pulled two worn looking books off a shelf behind his desk. “This is the notebook that Cloniphus wrote while making Nightwidow. I purchased it and a diary for a very large sum of money from an old man who lives in the Cloniphus’ old home. The old man claims to have found them hidden in the floor. The diary is by a woman named Ayla who lived with Cloniphus during the years he made Nightwidow. Other parts of his life I have pieced together through research. However there is a gap. After Nightwidow is created, Cloniphus left for some reason and is gone for about a year.”
“Did they have any children?” Shoren wondered.
“Funny you ask, according to Ayla’s diary, a few days before Cloniphus leaves, she finds out she is pregnant and is terrified Cloniphus will find out, who at this point has become obsessive, abusive, and paranoid. I believe his fury over an heir not being named and the talk of the formation of the new High Council drove him over the edge. Anyway, Ayla wakes one morning to find Cloniphus gone, but then her relief turns to worry when she realized that Cloniphus could return at any moment and made up her mind to give the child up for adoption. Nine months later Ayla had a girl, but Cloniphus never knew her. Shortly after giving birth, Ayla left her daughter on the steps of the local church. I believe that Ayla must have feared for the girl’s safety, given how Cloniphus killed the Gargite in cold blood. It seems Ayla’s fear was well founded. A few weeks after the child is given away, Cloniphus returned and Ayla’s diary abruptly ended in the year Eight hundred and fifty-one. Cloniphus would have only been twenty-one years old at his time.
“What happened to her?”
“I suspect Cloniphus may have found out about the child being given up for adoption and killed Ayla in a rage when she wouldn’t tell him where the child was. Like I said, Cloniphus was an orphan at eleven and as we discussed, was very bitter about it; in fact his bitterness is what drove him to create Nightwidow. Interestingly, Ayla mentioned that Cloniphus also kept a diary, perhaps that book would answer the question of what really happened to Ayla and what he did for the year he was gone,” the Headmaster said.
Shoren thought for a moment. “Then it stands to reason that Cloniphus’ daughter grew up and had children of her own and that means it is possible that I have relative out there who may now about Nightwidow and be after the sword as well?” Shoren asked.
“Your suspicions are right on the money, Shoren. I recently learned the identity of such an individual through a confidential source. His name is Ves Rinard and he would be a very distant cousin of yours and like I said who knows what trouble he could cause if he got his hands on Nightwidow. My source claims that Ves knows that the sword is on an island to the south. However, I believe we still have time as my source seems to know that this Ves does not know which island like we do,” the Headmaster said with a wink.
“If only you have the notebook and diary, how could this Ves have found out?” Shoren wondered. His suspicions of the Headmaster were increasing.
“I suspect he must have Cloniphus’ diary.” The Headmaster speculated.
“So how did you come to get the notebook and diary? I mean I know you said some old man sold it you but why?”
“Well, the gentleman did quite a bit of door knocking in the area and asked about living relatives of Cloniphus and apparently no one knew what he was talking about. He was hoping to sell the books, you see. When he had no luck find anyone interested, he came to the Academy and I bought them,” the Headmaster said.
“Mmm,” Shoren said absently.
“Are you angry with me?” the Headmaster asked.
“Well now that you mention it, I am. You know it doesn’t feel very good to be used. I mean you have known for a long time, I could wield this sword and then you come up with this elaborate plan to get me in the Academy, get me trained, and then drop this in my lap.” Shoren complained.
The Headmaster sighed. “You have every right to be angry, but I didn’t know what else to do. You have no idea the pain artifacts like Nightwidow have caused. I didn’t see any other way.”
Shoren’s anger subsided somewhat. He put himself in his Headmaster’s shoes. “I guess I might’ve done the same thing.”
The Headmaster gave an understanding smile. “I am glad that you understand. Besides it’s not all bad is it? Pretty much every graduate of the Academy goes on to a successful life and you will too, no doubt. Besides I don’t think you would have been happy hoeing tubers at the family farm.”
Shoren winced a little. The comment was sharp and to the point. “You’re right, sir.” He was eager to get away from this uncomfortable conversation. “Anyway back to what we were talking about, perhaps I could find this Ves and find out what he knows and plans?”
The Headmaster shook his head emphatically. “No, no, no. Who knows what kind of person this Ves is. He could torture you just to get your information and then kill you. No for all our sakes, you must find and bring back Nightwidow before your relative does.”
“What happens when I bring the sword back? Do I get to keep it?” Shoren wondered. He imagined all he could do with such a powerful weapon.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” The Headmaster said quickly. He was afraid this was going to happen.
Shoren raised in eyebrows in surprise. It sure wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “Why? It was made by my ancestors. Rightfully, it should be mine,” Shoren said, his anger about to boil over.
“Shoren, I understand why you feel this way and I am sorry if you feel you have been misled. I never had the intention of you keeping the sword.
“What!” Shoren yelled and jumped from his chair angrily.
“Please, calm, just hear me out,” the Headmaster said as he made a sitting gesture. “Please sit down and let me explain.”
Shoren crossed his arms defensively over his chest and looked about the room so that he didn’t have to make eye contact with the Headmaster. Shoren exhaled sharply and sat.
In a soft calming tone, the Headmaster said, “Good, the reason is that I firmly, firmly believe there is no greater corrupter of man than power. To help prove my point, I have something very special to show you. Just so you know you are among only a handful of people that have ever seen this.”
Shroren was still incensed over the whole deal and quickly stood. The Headmaster stood up too and walked toward a blue staff with a large crystal sphere that leaned against the wall. Shoren glared at the back of the old man’s head and he thought, ‘This better be good old man ‘cause when I get back you and me are gonna have a long talk about this.’