Magi: The Master and The Apprentice

First Chapter: The Master and The Apprentice

He walked slowly through the dimly lighted streets of Ashteroth. The small streaks of light cast playful shadows on his silky, blond hair; hair that once shone golden under the heat of the sun in battle. That was many years ago, and he did not want to revisit those painful times, especially since… But, that story was for later.

His cape billowed in the wind as it passed him by. It was a strong wind that pushed through gaps in the strands of his long, golden mane. His piercing blue eyes gleamed beautifully in the semi darkness.

His black boots made soft sounds, like footsteps on sand, too soft for the untrained ear. He was wearing black, fit pants and a white, poet’s shirt with long bell sleeves. The only accessories he ever wore were the earring he had on his left ear, that helped him contain his power, and the gauntlet he wore on his right arm, that amplified his magic when he needed it; he’d needed it only once in his entire life.  Over it all, he wore a cloak with a hood, which he usually kept up to hide his face in shadows so as to shield what spells he cast from his opponent’s gaze. He did not care to wear his hood now; no one would be about at such a time.

He envied them, these normal souls, so without magic, so innocent.  He envied them because they did not know of the wars that occurred right infront of them. He envied them because they did not know magic; because they thought it a myth. Oh, how life would have been so different had he been born a normal soul. But, his fate was sealed; there was no way to change what has already been. How he wished he could return to the moment of his birth and seal away the magic before it could be harnessed. Then, maybe, he could be normal right now. But, time travel was a lost art. What magic left connected to it only allowed a return to a few seconds in the past and required so much spiritual energy that it would drain the caster to half-death. He had learned all this already, ofcourse. Had he not traveled to the ends of the world to search out this legendary magic of time travel? Ofcourse he did. He’d searched the world, but it was all for naught.

“The moon hides on this night.” He said, as he looked up, the faint light from the street lamps illuminated half his visage, casting a shadow on the other. However, instead of making him seem monstrous, the shadow play intensified the curves and angles of his face that they could be seen much clearer than otherwise. His nose was straight, with the beauty of the Irish. His lips were thin, but full, seeming so perfect that any woman could be captivated by his smile. And, when he would smile, it was difficult to look away. But, that smile would never reach his eyes. They remained distant, yet focused, confused, yet knowing, as though the secrets of the world were there right behind them.

“Its light is lost.” He said as a sweet, painful smile spread across his face, “a battle now consumes the land.” He could not see the spells being cast or hear the explosions of objects, but he knew. He knew because he could feel their energy. They were far. A few miles… perhaps… His smile grew to amusement. “They are merely fledglings… no older than a few decades, and so innocent to the more deadly silent forms of the trade.” He sighed and continued to walk. Finding shelter before dawn was indeed most important. He needed much rest, and, strong as he was, exhaustion would certainly steal away his strength. An attack when he was this fatigued would be difficult to fend off. His body may not be able to stand the force, especially while the sun incessantly refills his soul with more power; his body might turn ethereal and intangible, unable to sustain the strain already felt, and the tension added by the fight and his soul’s strengthening energies.

He saw a sign up ahead. It was poorly painted and the wood was splintered and broken in many places. “An orphanage?” He whispered, having read the words painted on the sign, “Not run by a church? Ah, I see…” He stopped a meter from the start of the fence and concentrated. If he was to stay here, no other of his kind must know. So, he slowly drew his aura within him and placed a temporary seal upon it. How he wished he was able to permanently seal the cursed power. “That should do.” He said.

As he once again began to walk towards the orphanage, he whistled a long forgotten tune that none of this time would ever know.

Abruptly, he stopped, standing so still that he would seem a statue to anyone who passed by. He felt another presence. It was faint, but he was sure it was the aura of a magus. Untrained… possibly… He mused, probably that of a child… He looked at the orphanage and thought, a slight crease formed between his eyebrows as he did so. Indeed… it could be… perhaps… He decided he would see if that child was ready. If he is, then, well... he’d have to share the nightmare… He resumed his pace towards the orphanage, whistling the same old song as he did so.

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The doorbell rang five to six times before Miria, the head mistress of the orphanage, decided to answer it. The tail of her long, flowing nightgown trailed behind her as she exited her room, and went down two flights of stairs towards the main door. She did not open the door immediately when she arrived; instead, bowing slightly, she peered through the small, circular opening in the middle of the door.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. Standing infront of her, with only the door as their division, was a handsome, young man, probably still in his early twenties, but with piercing, deep blue eyes that told of his immense knowledge. He smiled slowly and handsomely, as though something had amused him, and she admired the beautiful curve of his lips as he did. He had neither mustache nor beard to cover his young face. Hmm… he’s probably too young to have one… His eyebrows were thick and golden, and seemed relaxed, yet peculiarly at ready. I wonder… Oh, how innocent he seems… The headmistress thought as she looked at his clothes, he had pushed back his cape to reveal his shirt and pants and boots.

She did not know what to make of him, a young man, all alone in the middle of the night. She wished to open the door and let him in, but he might be a danger to the children. Then, she remembered the fire that blazed through the eastern side of the city the other night. Oh, the poor boy! He must have lost his family in the fire!

She moved a step backwards, grabbed the doorknob, and swung the door open.

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Careful… You should not look too deeply into my eyes, my lady… What you see might frighten you far beyond your wildest nightmares… The magus thought. He had felt her come even as she closed the door of her room and began her descent on the first flight of steps. But, he only entered into her thoughts and watched through her mind’s eye the moment she peered through the tiny peep hole in the door. Early twenties? He thought, amused. He smiled slowly. I am much older than you think, my dear…

Then, the door opened and he saw infront of him a woman, an inch or two taller than him, who was somewhere in her late fifties, with graying hair and small beady eyes. The tiny square spectacles she wore low on her beak-like nose gleamed in the light. Her night gown was long with laces and frills, and covered nearly the whole of her body, except for the parts from her collar bones up to her head. She was not ugly, only extremely prim. So formal… oh, how it reminds me of those times a few decades back… and, also back when… no! Do not think of that! Forget that past!

“Good evening, Madame.” He said as he bowed to her. “Good evening.” She answered, nodding her head slightly. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you so late. But, I’ve nowhere to stay and I’ve already had a share of the freezing, bitter cold of Ashterian nights.” He said, as he smiled slightly, apologetically. “Oh, dear… Were you… well, were you one of those affected on the east side?” Miria inquired. The young man stood silent for a moment, looking straight into her eyes. She felt as though he was reading her, but that would be impossible. “I…” He muttered, then his eyes began to water, “yes…” He turned about and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Forgive me…” He said as he turned back to face her.  “No, no! I should be sorry. It was not my place to ask.” Miria replied, blushing, “Please come in.” She moved aside so he could pass, and then, she closed the door behind him.

“Please, follow me.” Miria said as they began to go up a flight of steps, “I’m sorry if I cannot offer you a room that you can have to yourself.” “Oh, it’s quite alright.” He answered, as they continued to ascend on the steps. “You see, many, like you, have come from the east side to seek refuge. So, the house is full.” She continued as she looked back to make sure he was following. He was. “There is only one person occupying the room. He is not a bad child, merely slightly strange. He is honest and trustworthy, and he never took anything that did not belong to him. Or, if he did, it was only to return it to its owner.” She took the last step, turned to the left and began walking. “Bear no ill against him, though, if he says something that in some way might offend you.” She smiled slightly, and he nodded in answer. “He speaks his mind as easily as a woman might powder her face.” “Hmm… I see…” He said, nodding. He followed her to the end of the hall, some twenty feet from the stairway.  “Ready yourself, though; his tongue lashes like a whip with words that bite without regret. After all…” She sighed, “He has never spoken a lie in his entire life.” “He was born here?” The magus asked. “Yes.” She answered as she took hold of the knob and swung open the door.

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The boy slept silently under the cover of two thin sheets. His head rested on a pillow; his short, auburn hair sticking out in all directions. Probably from moving around in his sleep. The magus mused. But, he was peaceful and unmoving now. The magus entered his mind a short moment. {i]Dreams... He sleeps still. Quietly, the magus moved towards the opposite bed and sat.

“I hope it is fine.” The headmistress said. “It’s perfect.” He answered, nodding to her, then returning his gaze to the boy. Miria did a slight curtsy, then left. She padded off, back to her room, back to sleep.

When he was sure that the headmistress had gone back to sleep in her own room, the magus closed the door, pulled a chair infront of the sleeping child’s bed, and sat. He stared at him for a while, such innocence… ten I believe… Forgive me… But, what must be done, will be done… Then, concentrating, he entered the boy’s mind and dream.

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“Who are you?” The younger of the two boys asked. The two of them were walking down a beach that stretched on indefinitely. The sandy shore was white, and the tiny grains felt wonderful beneath their bare feet. The waves splashed upon rocks, as though trying to take them down. “Who are you?” The younger one repeated. “Me?” The other said. “Yes.” The younger answered, tugging at his companion’s sleeve. “I am Marius.”

“Are you one of them?”
“Who do you mean?”
“Them… the ones who chase me now… the ones who say that I do not belong…”
“No.”
“Marius…”
“Yes?”
“Are you a friend?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Have you come to help me? I need to find where I belong.”
“I can show you where you belong…”          
“Truly?”
“However, you may not like it…”
“So long as I belong.”
Marius smiled, “What is your name, young one?”
“Luke.”
“Luke, are you ready?”
“I do not know… what is it that I must be ready for?”
“To know the truth about your own self… and of your kind...”
“Will you leave me alone if I said I wasn’t ready?”
“No. I will stay with you. And, I will wait until you say that you are.”
“Will the truth you say hurt me?”
Marius stopped walking and faced Luke, “It is up to you to decide that.”
“Once you tell me, what will happen?”
Marius knelt down, “I will teach you the ways of our kind. I will show you what can be done and what cannot. I will mentor you… much like a teacher, I will teach you all I know…”
“Like a father?” Luke looked at him expectantly.
“Like a father.” Marius nodded.
“Marius, you’re leaving me! Stop fading away!”
“I am not leaving you. I am at your side, even now.”
“Don’t leave! I need you here! I need your help!”
“I must leave your dream, Luke.” Marius said, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder.
“Dream?”
“Yes, this is a dream.”
“And, you?”
“I am real. But, I must rest. When you awake in the morning, I will be beside you.”
“What shall I do now?”
“Wait, Luke… wait for the sun to rise… here, in your world of dreams, and in the real world.”
“Can’t I wake now?”
“No. Continue on walking towards the end of this beach while you wait. Continue on.”

“Marius, no! Don’t leave!” Luke tried to grab hold of his new friend, but he could touch nothing of him. Marius grew fainter and fainter, until he was merely nothing more than a wisp of white smoke, then he completely vanished. Luke bowed his head, When I wake, he will be beside me… I must continue on… my friend… my mentor… my father… Luke set his gaze on the stretch of sand and sea infront of him and continued his walk.

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The magus looked at the boy, then out the open window. The skies were still dark, with thick clouds hanging low. It would rain heavily in the morning. He sighed, so young… He looked at the boy once again. I will be here, Luke. When you awake, I will be here… He took the chair and returned it to its proper position. Then, slowly, he went towards the bed, lay down, and covered himself with the blanket. It took no more than a minute for him to drift off into sleep.

The blackness engulfed him as always. He never had dreams, and believed that he never will. When he slept, all that awaited him was a deep darkness that would swallow him, a nothingness that he could not escape. Sometimes, there were flashes in that darkness of swords, of fires, and of battles. But, that was all they ever were, flashes. He knew where the flashes came from. They were from his memories of a past he had long forgotten. He was probably merely a child then, so fearful of the men on horseback and their swords. He liked to imagine that it was the time when he was still innocent to the existence of magic. Ofcourse, he was never sure.

His childhood was a long forgotten past. All that was left of it was the clear, light blue eyes of a woman. He did not know who she was or why she was so important, only that she was.

“Demetré…” The name echoed in the blackness of his mind. “Demetré…”  “Demetré…” “Demetré…” He could not remember the name. Who is this person whose name resounds in my mind? Who are you Demetré? Who are you? He felt his body rise, and become weightless. Ah, morning… He closed his eyes tightly and smiled. The weightlessness always occurred in the few hours before dawn. His internal clock worked almost too perfectly, but he didn’t mind. He might need it sometime; though, he didn’t know when.

His eyes opened to dark skies. It seemed to still be night, but he knew that the morn had come. The sky was overcast with heavy clouds, so the sun’s bright rays could not penetrate the thick layer of water and air to reach the soil. A dark morn… Rain… He looked at Luke and smiled. He was sleeping soundly in his own bed. Marius got the chair, and positioned it once again infront of Luke’s bed. He sat down and sent a telepathic message to the young boy’s resting mind. “It is time to wake, dear Luke. The day has come.”

Luke slowly opened his eyes. “Marius?” He called. “I am here.” Marius answered. Luke turned his head and smiled, “You stayed.” “I will never leave you.” Marius replied. Luke sat up, got off the bed and hugged Marius. “Father, I am not yet ready… But, I will be.” “And I will wait.”

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“Breakfast!” Cried a young lady, calling the rest of the house to eat, “Hurry on, or else the cats and dogs will eat it all up!” There was rushing of steps and pounding of feet as each and everyone ran towards the dining hall.

“Stop running!” Miria exclaimed at the top of her voice, “Edgar! Michael! Richard!”  She bent a little as she grabbed the three boys, much like a hawk swooping down on three sprinting rabbits. “Aww! Mistress Miria!” The boy with shoulder – length, black hair complained, trying to escape her hold. “Quiet, Michael!” Miria warned. “If we don’t hurry, the food’ll be all gone!” The one with short, brown hair reasoned. “We are not dogs that we cannot share, Edgar!” Miria glared at him. “But, mistress-!” The third one, with long, red hair, tied with a knot at the base of his head, chimed in. “Tut! Tut! I said there will be no running! So, NO RUNNING!” Miria sniffed and looked angrily towards the dining hall. “But, the others…” Edgar muttered under his breath, but it was not so soft that Miria could not hear it. “I will reprimand them all. Indeed… indeed, I will!” She was about to continue down the stairs when she heard the squeak of a door coming open.

“Good morning, mistress.” She heard Luke's all too familiar voice, but something was slightly different about the lilt of his tone. “Good morning, Madame.” It’s him! She thought, the young one I let in last night! Miria turned about, and, blushing, answered, “Good morning.” She nodded, absently loosening her grip on the three boys so that they were able to rush towards the dining hall. Luke! She stared in wide-eyed amazement. Luke, the loner; Luke, the silent lashing whip; Luke, the sulky, quiet, little boy that could never hold a stare in his entire life was standing right there, infront of her, beaming at her. His smile was so genuinely joyous that at first she thought that it could not have been him.

“Quite a racket, so early in the morning…” Marius said, he looked as though he was deep in thought. “Uh, yes. I – I tell Maria every morning not to call them in that manner, but she j – just never listens.” Miria tried to sound annoyed, but it was impossible, she was stuttering too much. It was like an aura of calmness was radiating from the lad, and it was a feeling so new to her that she found it difficult to stay composed in his calm. That must be why Luke is so happy… “Mistress, shall we?” Luke asked, his voice sounded so close that it caused Miria to almost lose her balance. “L – Luke?!” She exclaimed, she was so engrossed with the other one’s expression to have noticed him. I didn’t see him at all! Why was I looking so intently at… at… at who? What was his name again? She faced the young lad, who it seemed had yet to take a single step unto the stairwell. “Young man...” She said. “Yes, Madame?” he replied. “It seems that in the sluggishness of my mind late last night that I was unable to ask you your name.” She paused, “I ask you now, what is your name?” “Forgive me.” He said, “In my haste for shelter, I had forgotten the necessary introductions.” He bowed low, saying, “I am Marius Havlićik.” Miria nodded in acknowledgment, beckoned him to follow, and, taking Luke’s hand, began her descent down the steps.

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“How many times must I remind you all that silence is demanded in the morning?!” Mistress Miria scolded the children in her care. They all looked anxious under her unyielding stare, every one of them with their heads bowed and their eyes low; each one silent and wringing their fingers, as though confessing to a heinous crime, all of them, except two: Marius and Luke. They matched her glare with bright, beaming eyes, her angry scowl with a peaceful smile, and her rigid form with relaxed expressions. It was as though her words could not reach them. Why should it reach them? She thought, they did no wrong. “And you, Maria!” She exclaimed, “How many hundreds of times have I told you not to call them to eat in that manner?!” Maria lifted her head, and tried to look into Miria’s eyes, but she could not. Miria sighed, and continued in a softer voice, “You are one of the eldest in this house, Maria.” She gestured to the young lady, “Try to act the part, why don’t you?” “Yes, mistress…” Maria answered in a voice so miserable it was heartrending.

“Haah… I guess… let us get on with it then…” Miria heaved a sigh. She gestured for Marius to come forward. “We have a new member to the family today.” She said, trying to sound cheerful, though it was clear to everyone that it was forced. They all knew that it was difficult for the mistress to change her disposition when a mood has been set. Marius stood up, and all heads turned to his direction. He had been sitting in one of the last two seats in the back row – Luke, his only companion. No one had noticed them. Now, as he stood, all eyes were on him. He gave them a friendly smile, and all the women who were old enough to know of beaus and loves instantly blushed. The younger ladies smiled back and waved. The men nodded in acknowledgment, but none of their eyes ever left him. Even as Mistress Miria spoke once again, they never broke their stare.

Miria exhaled a bit too loudly. She knew none of them were listening to her. They were all waiting for Marius to speak, as though he were their long awaited leader. Ofcourse, all new members of the house introduced themselves to everyone, but none had ever garnered a silence so racked with anticipation. When Marius reached the front of the room, Miria felt she could not contain herself as well. For no matter how much older she was, his charm would not release her from its hold. She caught herself holding her breath, waiting for the long and elaborate tale that she was sure he would give.

“Good day.” Marius said. Everyone answered in chorus, even Miria could not stop herself. “I am Marius Havlićik.” He awarded them another friendly smile and continued, “I hope we can all be good friends in the near future.” Everyone nodded in response. Marius’ smile turned to amusement, “Thank you for lending me your ears.” Nobody moved. They all heard what he said, but it would just not register. Their minds still waited, knowing he would continue. But, instead of speaking more, he began walking back to his seat in the back row. Everyone groaned in disappointment, as their eyes continued to follow him in his progress.

“It seems they want you to speak of more, Marius.” Luke whispered once Marius was seated. “I am not very good with their words, Luke.” Marius answered. “Their words?” Luke repeated, confused. Marius saw the look on the boy’s face but did not answer. He could not tell the tale there, where so many non-magi resided. Maybe in our room, my child… He thought, once we are alone, I shall tell you the tale.

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The months that followed passed by quickly. And though they still gave him an appreciative glance when he passed, no one stared anymore. Marius was thankful for this, for although he did not show it, he felt awkward when people watched him intently. He had always been like this, ever since he could remember. Luke, on the other hand, had grown much more than one could imagine. It was not physical growth, but mental. Many times, he was found hunched over a book in the library, or chatting with Marius about topics even the eldest boys in the orphanage knew nothing about. He was still a child, yes. Indeed, physically, he was still ten, but he spoke and acted like a young gentleman more than a child.

Marius had spent most of his time with Luke, waiting for his answer. He knew Luke would almost certainly agree, for at the back of Luke’s mind, Marius had spied the choice greater favored by the child. While he waited, Marius spoke to Luke about the past, about kings and heroes of a world one could only know from history books. Luke had read some of them, and was able to comment on one or another. But, Marius’ tales, though familiar, were far better than a story archived in some old collection of books. They were much more vivid; so much more detailed that Luke was instantly enthralled by them. These are not from books. Luke thought, they are so much more real.

When Marius did not speak of history, they ventured into alchemy and sometimes sorcery. When they had spoken out on all the general subjects, they turned to topics much closer to home. Sometimes, Marius would ask about Luke, or Maria, or some other orphan child they lived with in the house. On other occasions, Luke would ask whether Marius favored the meal they ate for breakfast or the one for lunch, or try to predict what dish would be prepared for dinner. Finally, when there was truly nothing more to talk about, both of them just stared out the window. The peace they found in the blue and white of the sky at day or the back velvet of the sky at night could not be bested by anything.

It was on the tenth month of Marius’ stay in the orphanage that Luke finally made a decision. Marius had observed how Luke weighed the decision in his mind. He had grown much during the ten months Marius had been with him. He now approached things more logically than before. Indeed, his childish curiosity still remained, but that was one thing Marius would not have changed. It was curiosity that had led him to many of the ancient texts that had once lay buried before he came. Now, it would be curiosity that would help Luke with the decision, and he had finally chosen. Marius did not look into his mind to see what the decision was. He only knew that Luke had made a decision.

The finality of his choice reflected on Luke’s face. No matter how he tried, he could not conceal it. And so, giving up trying to hide it, he approached Marius. “Marius.” Luke uttered, pulling on Marius sleeve. He was at the garden, sitting silently, staring into the distance. The vast expanse of hills beyond the back garden was a beautiful sight.

“Marius.” Luke said again. Today the magus was wearing a white polo shirt which he unbuttoned at the chest area, straight-cut black pants, boots, and, as always, his gauntlet and earring. “Yes?” Marius answered, turning his gaze form the lush hills, and looking at Luke with those distant, piercing, blue eyes of his. Luke shifted his weight a little and said, “I’ve decided.” Marius nodded. He looked solemnly at Luke and waited. “I’ve decided to go with you.” “I know.” Marius replied. At first, Luke was a little taken a back by Marius’ reply, but then, he remembered how Marius seemed to know so much about everything and anything. Luke shrugged, looking down at the green grass whose long blades curled and stayed about his feet.

“Then, it is time for us to leave.” Marius said, casting a glance at the hills and smiling, “Pack your things, my child. We shall leave tonight.” Luke nodded, turned around and began his walk to the house. Then, remembering something, he turned back to his new mentor who was looking straight at him, seemingly lost in the distance between them, yet seeing of all that occurred. “Master.” Marius uttered, barely above a whisper. “I beg you pardon?” Luke asked, moving nearer. “From now on, you shall call me master.” Marius said, crossing his legs as he turned his gaze back to the scenery. “Yes.” Luke replied, “Yes, master.