Chapter 13

Family Descent

Book One �" Divergence

Part I �" Novices

Chapter 13

September 1657

 

            Korrie sat at the small wood table in his room. In front of him was an open book on alchemy. At smaller, stone topped table in the corner an alembic stood. Beneath one bottle was a small oil burner. The greenish liquid in the bottle simmered and steam rose into the twisting glass tube attached to the mouth of the bottle. As the steam entered the tube, it condensed on the sides and then dripped into the second bottle which had a small amount of clear liquid in the bottle. Korrie glanced up from the alchemy book to check on the alembic and then went back to pronouncing out the word sounds in the lesson.

            “What are you studying?” asked the Voice.

            “The theory of material amplification in spell casting,” Korrie answered out loud.

            “You learned that years ago at the academy,” the Voice sneered. “It is elementary.”

            “Nevertheless, Elastin instructed me to study it again.”

            “Ridiculous!” shouted the Voice.

            “Go away,” Korrie said and went back to studying.

            Three months had passed since the flawed casting that had rendered Korrie unconscious for a sevenday. Elastin had strictly adhered to advice of the healers and forbade Korrie from any casting for two months. Only recently had Korrie been permitted to cast the simplest cantrips and spells. Although he wouldn’t admit it the Voice, the restrictions did chafe. Not that he needed to admit it to the Voice since the Voice seemed to know everything about him.

            His concentration now broken by the Voice’s intrusion, Korrie closed the book on the table and pushed the chair back as he stood. He glanced over at the flaming burner and made the word-sound of an extinguished flame, “pffh” and the burner extinguished.

            He paced the room for several minutes idly twisting the ring his parents gave him. He glanced out of the room’s single small window at the sunlight outside and the way it shimmered and sparkled on the lake in the valley below where he could see it through the curtain of leaves. He felt trapped within the small room, trapped by his circumstance. He let out a long held breath and left his room. He descended the spiraling branch stair to the lowest level of the house and then walked out onto the porch. He then went to the opening in the rail. He hummed a word sound that rose in pitch at the end and stepped of the porch and hovered in the air for a moment before drifting lightly to the ground below.

 

            He breathed deeply in the open air before he began his descent into the valley along the dirt path. He half-heartedly returned greetings from the few elves he met along the way as he went down to the shore of the lake. It was early afternoon and the sun stood high over the valley in a crystal blue sky. He turned left and followed the edge of the lake. Few souls were about as the elves took to their homes for a midday rest as was their habit. He walked along the lake for about a half and hour leaving the most densely populated area of the community behind for he knew of an isolated spot to which he oft went.

            At last he came to a small cove at the farthest end of the lake that was surrounded on three sides by close trees and dense undergrowth. A large rock stood at the edge of the lake in the cove which was no more than fifty feet across. He stood at the edge of the lake and the water washing up onto his bare feet was warm and inviting. He stripped off his tunic and then his breeches and jumped into the crystal mere.

            He swam a short distance out into the full of the lake and then swam back to the small cove where he rolled over onto his back and floated weightless under the sun. There was no sound except the soft song of the late summer breeze in leaves, and the song of larks in the trees and shoosh of the water as it lapped at the shore. He closed his eyes and let the gentle roll of the water lull him and calm his mind. The sun cast its warmth against his body and he nearly fell asleep.

            After a short while he climbed out of the water and onto the large sun-warmed rock. He lay back on the rock with his hands behind his head in the sun’s warmth and the soothing breeze to dry.

            After the sun and the wind had done their work, he slipped back into his breeches and sat on the rock with his knees pulled up his chest. He sat long thus watching the lake and the elves on the far shore stirring from their afternoon rest and going about their sundry tasks.

            He sighed as he thought about the summer’s end so very near, when he would not be able to enjoy the lake’s soothing waters for even in the idyllic vale the autumn and winter would bring cold days and colder nights.

            “What will you do then?” asked the Voice. “At the rate your studies progress you won’t even be able to make a fire to warm yourself.”

            Korrie sighed again. Of late, the Voice was increasingly present in his mind; nagging, badgering, complaining, and demanding. “Will you not leave me be?” Korrie beseeched.

            “Not until we have achieved all that we are destined to achieve,” answered the Voice. Korrie stood up and threw his tunic over one shoulder. He turned his back on the quiet cove and then followed the path back around the lake. Stalking bare-chested along the path and through the center of Chevranta he did not respond to any greeting received but few took special notice as they had become accustomed the young apprentice’s mood-swings.

 

            Korrie arrived back at Estarin’s dwelling and with little conscious thought he levitated up the porch and stepped into the dwelling. He walked past Estarin who had returned from his errands without so much as acknowledging the elf’s presence and mounted the spiral branch stair and up into his room. He threw the tunic down on his cot and stood at the window with his hands on his hips staring down once again at the lake.

            “Korrie, are you well?” Estarin asked as he entered Korrie’s room through the open door.

            “If but one more person asks after my health I shall surely burst,” Korrie fumed as he whirled around to face his teacher.

            “We are only concerned about you, Korrie. It should not anger you so.” Estarin said taking a step forward.

            “They are not concerned for your welfare,” said the Voice, “They fear you.”

            “Shut up!” Korrie growled out loud.

            “I beg your pardon,” said Elistan with a frown.

            “Nothing, wesla. Forgive me,” Korrie said with his arms out to his side. “I am only frustrated by the restrictions put upon me. I feel trapped.”

            “That is understandable, Korrie,” Elistan said. “It is not to punish you that the restrictions were put into place, only to protect you.” Korrie reached up to press his hands to the side of his head.

            “They restrict you to protect themselves,” said the Voice.

            “Are you certain you are well?” Estarin asked with concern tingeing his voice. “Shall I summon Galuun or Feala?” Korrie shook his head and looked at Estarin.

            “No, wesla, I am fine,” Korrie answered. “Please do not worry. Is there aught you would have me do? Prepare some components or somesuch?” Estarin shook his head.

            “I have some study to do,” Estarin answered. “Why not rest a bit and then resume your own study.” The elf gestured to the alembic.

            “Very well,” replied Korrie. Estarin nodded.

            “Good,” he said. “I’ll see you in a short while, then.” Then the Archmage left Korrie alone with the Voice.

 

            Korrie returned the window and watched for some while as the sun began its westward descent. Finally the sun moved far enough that the vale fell into shadow and throughout the hollow lights blinked into existence as the elves lit lanterns and candles. At last Korrie turned away from the window and a word-sound caused several candles to flare into life. He then looked over the alembic.

            “Leave it,” said the Voice. “It is but a distraction to keep you from pursuing the full extent of your ability. Korrie frowned.

            “It is part of my study of material,” Korrie began but the Voice cut him off.

            “It is a distraction. Something to idle your mind.”

            “Why? You say they fear me. Why should they fear me? What you say has no basis in fact.” Korrie argued with the Voice careful to keep his own voice low enough that Elistan would not hear.

            “Do not be a fool,” snarled the Voice. “Do you not recall that your spell nearly whelmed the warding circle which your master thought more than capable of containing it?”

            In the fragmentary flashes of memory Korrie had of the event, he did recall seeing the weakening of the field.

            “The elf had to call upon great power to shore up the warding circle and then relied on a casting more potent still to end your spell.” The Voice was persistent.

            “It was only some anomaly in the aethêric energy flow,” Korrie ventured.

            “No it was your power that whelmed the circle and your power that frightened the elves into restricting your practice of the art,” the Voice continued.

            “The casting nearly killed me,” Korrie said. “It caused an outbreak of the syndrome. That is what they fear, that more casting will cause irreparable harm, perhaps death.”

            “Nonsense and lies,” the Voice retorted. “You collapsed because the wesla did not properly prepare you for the power you wield. And you will never become prepared studying infantile lessons that you already know. The control you require is a muscle that must be exercised and strengthened. A warrior does not increase the strength of his arm by wielding the toy sword he played with as a child; he chooses instead a heavier sword.”

            “Your arguments are moot,” Korrie said at last. “For he is my wesla and I his talar; the bond is sacrosanct. I will follow his instructions for he is wiser than I.”

            “Korrie, come to the table; the meal is set.” Elastin called up from below.

            “I come, wesla,” Korrie called back and plucked his tunic up from the cot.

            “Forget not what I have said,” the Voice asserted. “As you think upon it you will come to realize that I am right.”

            “Leave me,” Korrie said and drew the tunic over his head. He felt the presence of the Voice retreat from his mind. He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair and descended the spiral branch stair. Even as he sat with Elistan at the table though, still the words of the Voice echoed in his mind.