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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1023642-Brannamir
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by Anya Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1023642
*Rough* Young student mage gets caught up in the twisted plans of the Arch Mage Fieorrel.
          A bright flash and the feeling of your soul being ripped in two and nothing but red blinding my vision. The red, the sound of something shattering, then the welcoming black
nothingness. I don’t remember any more of what happened. I wish I could tell you the
reason I blacked out, but I can’t. I just remember the sudden emptiness in me. The next
thing I knew, I was waking up in the infirmary.


         Brannamir shot straight up in bed, sweat soaking his body. His breath came in
rushed gasps and his heart was pounding. He tightly shut his eyes again and slowly sank
back down as a shearing pain ripped across back of his head. His fingers gently probed the
lump behind his right ear. He was trying to remember how he got there but the more he tried
to think about it, the more his head throbbed.

         He sighed and lightly rubbed his hand over his chest. He felt an odd hollowness inside. An empty space that was once, he was sure,
occupied. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. This was all so confussing. What happened? he thought as he looked towards the sound of the huge oak doors swinging
open.

         “Ah! Good, you are awake Brannamir. We were really worried about you.” Sad the
kindly face of the Headmaster as he approached Brannamir's bedside.

         “Headmaster Fieorrel, I...well...what happened?”asked Brannamir.

         "You hit your head in the potions lab when you fainted"

Fainted...shattering glass...explosion.

         "The potions lab! What happened? Is everyone alright?" the words tummbled from his lips as the rush of memory came to him. Fieorrel raised his hand to quiet him for a moment.

         "Peace Brannamir, all is well enough now. It's not for you to worry about. Just rest." Fieorrel was turning back towards the door when Brannamir reached out to catch hold of the sleeve to his robe.

         "Headmaster, please, tell me what happened."

         Fieorrel looked at him for a moment, debating on if telling him was wize in this state of being. He shrugged and sat at the edge of Brannamir's bed.

         "You were examining a potion and suddenly dropped it. Then you fainted." he said mater-of-factly. "The liquids mixed wrongly and some caught fire...we can just say it wasn't too pretty of a site."

         The pit of Brannamir's stomach turned as he pictured the chaos that was sure to have ensued.
Shattering glass...explosions...screaming.

         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         Brannamir couldn't help but feel guilty for the explosion in the potion's lab. Even as he told himself it wasn't really his fault, he couldn't help it if he fainted, he still felt the stab of guilt as people stepped to the side of him. He could feel the space kept by his friends, and the edginess of his peers.

         He tossed his books on the table of his room and flopped down into the sturdy, over-sized chair next to the fire. It wasn't my fault. I didn't do it on purpose. He let his head fall into his palms as he tried to go over what happened. Just as he had every night since then.

         Brannamir sighed and slouched back into the chair. He wasn't going to get any work done worrying over this. He had three tests coming up and he needed to ace them if he wanted Fieorrel to take him on as his personal apprentice.
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