Dark One Rising. Leandra Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ their pace, scuffling faster up the cobbled lane. The main door was large with a depiction of a sorcerer’s dual carved into the wood grain. There was a bell pull near the entrance, and the old woman rang it, shivering in the frigid air of the mountains.

      The door opened a few minutes later, and a man stood there. He motioned for them to step inside, and they did, the door closing loudly behind them, the echo bouncing off the stone walls.

      The boy used the advantage of waiting, to look around at his environment. The walls and floor were stone; the floor, however, was polished shiny, and he could see his reflection in it. The walls were rough hewn stone and they looked cold, but the roaring fire in the large hearth warmed him, and he started to feel his hands again. There was uncomfortable furniture all over the room and the hallway and ornately carved wood cabinets and shelving lining the walls. There were large gold sconces along all the walls, casting eerie shadows of light from the flames into the room, and he danced around, smiling at his reflection as it moved on the floor. There were some tapestries and paintings on the walls but none that caught his attention enough to investigate further. What did was a bookcase that lined the entire back wall of the room, with leather bound books and tomes of every color and thickness. As the woman stood waiting for their host, shaking the numbness out of her frozen limbs, he went over to it and looked wide eyed at all the treasures. He loved books. His mother and father were lowland land owners and were not part of the king’s court, but they prided themselves on making sure they were well read, and in doing so, their child as well. He was only ten years old, but his appetite for reading was insatiable, and he wanted to take in all that he could. It didn’t matter what the book was about; he didn’t care, as long as the words on the pages filled his mind with knowledge.

      He dragged his hand across the leather bound spines, looking at all the titles that jumped out at him. History, science, adventure, magic. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the last one he had touched. “The Fundamentals of Magic” was the title, and he touched that one again with his pointing finger. The spine of the book was warm to the touch, and when he reached out to pull it from the shelf, he felt a sensation run up his finger, all the way to his head. He pulled back from it in surprise, but his curiosity prevailed. He touched it again, tried to grab it and pull it from its resting place. The sensation shot through him again, and he felt a stirring in his soul. A voice behind him caused him to jump, and he pushed the book back in and turned.

      A man was standing there, looking down at him with pale gray eyes which were behind small round spectacles resting precariously on his long thin nose. He was not scowling at him but rather studying him with an amused half grin. The boy looked up at him and tried to smile but was afraid he had done something wrong, and smiling would make the stranger mad, just like a dog thought you were snarling if you smiled at him.

      The man continued looking down on him, then did smile, the firelight dancing in his eyes. He placed a gentle hand on the boy’s head and patted it. The man seemed to know what he was thinking, because he winked at him.

      “Knowledge is never a subject that should get you into trouble. Knowledge is power. The more you know the more power you obtain. And magical knowledge is the most powerful of them all.”

      The boy did not respond but continued to look up at the older man with the kind eyes. The man finally looked away and went over to the old woman, who was just now feeling warm by the raging fire. The boy followed him.

      “We appreciate you bringing him up here. I realize it was a long and treacherous walk for you. It would not have been wise for any of us to make the trek down the mountain into the city, you understand.”

      “I do. Does this mean you will take the boy in?”

      “Yes, of course. He has his father’s eyes and his mother’s curiosity. He will learn much from us, and one day he will be ready to go out into the world and conquer it.” He smiled down at the boy again.

      The old lady ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled at him through crooked teeth. “This will be your new home, Fallon. Your mother and father wished it to be so if anything happened to them. They will take good care of you, and you will learn many things. This is Cephus, he will be your father now. Learn all you can and make your life count.”

      The boy started to cry a little. He had been with the old lady for almost a year now and was starting to grow found of her, even though she was crooked and smelled of cabbage.

      “Why must I stay here? Why can’t I stay with you?”

      “I am too old to raise a child until manhood. I will be gone from this world before that. It is best for you to be with people who can care for you, give you everything you need, and who will teach you the things you need to know to make your way in this world.”

      “But I don’t want to stay up here; it’s cold and dark.”

      The man looked kindly at him and touched his shoulder. “Tis not always dark and cold on the mountain. When spring arrives, you will see the splendor of colors the flowers make as they grow out of the cliffs.”

      Fallon sniffed. He had been angry that his parents left him, until he was told by the old lady that they had been killed by the king’s guards that pillaged the town and killed those that opposed the king’s rules. He vowed that when he got older he would get revenge, but, after time had gone by, his plan of revenge waned. Now, looking around this room at the shelf full of books, especially ones that spoke of magic, he was starting to think those thoughts again. Perhaps with the right teaching, he could very well learn things and grow up to dispense the justice for the wrongs done to his parents and his home.

      He looked up at the man again, whose gray eyes were watching him intently, and said, “Will you teach me magic?”

      The man continued looking at him then laughed. “If you show promise in all your other studies, perhaps magic will be in your weekly lessons.” He leaned over and whispered in the boy’s ear. “Did that book speak to you, young Fallon?”

      Fallon swallowed, then answered, “Yes, sir. I felt a tingling in my fingers when I touched the spine, then when I tried to pull it out to look at it, the tingling grew stronger. I felt it was speaking to me. What does that mean?”

      The man rubbed his chin, his gray eyes sparkling in the dancing light of the fire. “It means that you have great potential, young Fallon. Stay with us, and your want for knowledge will never go unfulfilled. Learn what we have to teach, and you will see the full potential you have to be great.”

      The boy stood up straighter as if trying to show his bravery. “Okay, I will live here with you. I want to show the world what kind of man I can be.”

      “And you shall, young Fallon, you shall.”

      They spent the next few hours eating and talking. He fell asleep several hours later by the fire, a book on his lap. The servants took the boy up to his new room and put him to bed. In the morning, he would say good-bye to his old caregiver and say hello to his new life. A life filled with reading and knowledge, a life that he would embrace with enthusiasm and fervor. A life that would someday bring him ultimate power.

      ***

      A horse and rider rode through the Dark Woods as fast as the wind. The rider sat low in the saddle, leaning forward so that his face was practically touching the pommel. He weaved through the trees as if he knew the forest by heart, every turn, every stump. He wore pants and shirt of a natural fiber, and his homespun cape flew behind him in the wind. His long black hair was pulled back with a cord, and his hood was pulled over his head, but his pointed ears poked through, the tips noticeable every time the wind caught his hood. He raced through СКАЧАТЬ