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The next morning, as the sun was rising over the mountaintops, Damion was awakened by Damarius. “Wake up, little one. It is time to rise. We have a full day ahead of us, and we need to get an early start.”
Damion sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, then slowly climbed from beneath his warm blankets and began to dress. He followed the old wizard into the kitchen where he grabbed two large hunks of cheese, a freshly-baked loaf of bread, and a large flask of apple juice, then led the way out of the cottage to a small clearing in the orchard.
They sat on a group of large stones, quietly eating their breakfast while enjoying the brisk morning breeze. When they were finished, Damarius looked at Damion, brushing his long white brow lock from his eyes. “Let’s begin by finding out exactly what you know about your powers, then we can move on from there.”
Damion thought quietly for moment. “I don't really know that much, except that not many people have the ability to use magic, and most people fear those who can.”
“That is right.” The old man nodded. “Very good! Now, tell me how you use your magic.”
“I don't understand. What do you mean?”
“Can you explain to me how you use your magic? How exactly do you conjure your power?”
Damion thought for moment, trying to think of exactly what he did when he drew upon his magic. “From what I can tell, I just draw the energy from everything around me, and then focus it to what I wish and release it.”
Damarius nodded his approval. “Very good. How did you figure this out?”
Damion shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I can just feel the energy as it gathers around me, and all I do is focus it and release it with a purpose.”
The old man gave him a surprised look. “That is probably the best explanation I’ve ever heard to describe the manipulation we call magic. I don’t think I could have said it better myself.” He was quiet for moment, then glanced around the small clearing and spotted a fist-sized stone lying nearby. “Can you use your magic to lift that stone and bring it over to us?”
Damion grinned, then focused on the stone. It slowly rose into the air and floated over to hover in front of the old man.
Nodding with approval, Damarius watched in wonder as Damion made a spinning gesture with his fingers, causing the stone to spend end over end, until it was nothing more than a blur hovering in front of their noses. Almost casually, the boy flipped his finger, and the rock shot off into the air, quickly disappearing from sight.
“You really shouldn’t show off like that.” The old man said grumpily. “It’s just not good manners.” He scratched his beard. “How am I supposed to teach you anything, when I have a tough time doing things like that? And you do with such ease!” He grunted, shaking his head, and causing his brow lock to fall into his eyes. “This is going to be tougher than I thought.” He was quiet for moment, then he turned and pointed to an apple that hung on a nearby branch. “Do you think you can make that apple blow up?”
Damion made a swift motion, and the apple began to slowly expand, growing larger and larger, as if it were being pumped full of air.
Damarius began to laugh. “Very good! But I meant can you make it explode?”
Damion giggled mischievously, then brought his hands together in a clapping motion. The giant apple suddenly exploded, sending juice and pulp flying in all directions, soaking his teacher from head to toe with the sticky sweet nectar. Damarius stood there in shock while Damion laughed, untouched by the flying pulp. He had been almost completely shielded from the sticky mess by his elderly teacher.
The old wizard turned and fixed his giggling pupil with a flinty look. “I guess I asked for that, didn't I?” He wiped the pulp from his face with the hem of his sleeve. “Next time, make sure I'm not within splattering range, okay?”
They continued practicing throughout the morning. Damarius had him perform a variety of things from levitation, to trying to detect different forms of magic. When they finally called it a day and went to get lunch, the old wizard was quite impressed by the wide range of abilities the young boy was capable of performing.
After lunch, Damion began his studies with Lady Skie. He quickly proved to be a fast learner, and seemed to have an almost endless curiosity and unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Within just a few hours, he memorized every letter in the alphabet, and by the end of the day, he was reading and writing a few simple words. He seemed to soak up knowledge like a sponge.
That night, after a succulent dinner of roasted pheasant stuffed with mushrooms and goat cheese, Damarius and Lady Skie led him to his new room and tucked him into bed. “You need your rest.” Lady Skie said, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “You have had a long day, and tomorrow will be just as taxing.”
“He’s had a long day?” Damarius snorted. “I’ve been upstaged by a five-year-old! How do you think I feel?”
Damion smiled smugly to himself. He was secretly delighted with the fact that he had a far broader range of abilities than his elderly teacher.
The old wizard patted him on the shoulder. “Get some rest, young one. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. We have a lot to cover. I have also summoned my friend, Gabriel Quickhand, to come to the valley. He should be arriving sometime next week to begin your training in the art of combat.”
“What? Really?” Damion was excited about the idea of learning to wield a sword. His father always carried one at his side, though Damion had never seen him use it. He suddenly stopped, his expression one of confusion. “You summoned him? How? I haven't seen any messengers around the valley.”
The old man laughed, then held up a silver amulet, which hung on a thick silver chain around his neck. “Gabriel carries an amulet exactly like this. It allows me to keep in touch with him when I need his assistance. It also allows me to keep in touch with the outside world. It's awful isolated here in the valley, and I like to keep abreast of what's happening in the world.”
Damion smiled. “Will he teach me how to use a sword?”
Damarius gave him a disapproving look, then nodded. “It is going to be rather tough on you, young one. Almost every minute of your time will be taken up by practicing your magic, studying with Skie, or training with Gabriel. I really hope you are ready for such a burden.” He squeezed the boy's shoulder once, then turned and left for the comfort of his study.
Lady Skie gently kissed Damion on his forehead. “Sleep well, my young sorcerer.”
“Aunt Skie?” He said, a little hesitantly, unsure on how he should broach the subject. “May I ask you a question?”
“Of course, little one. What is it?”
He started, then stopped. It was a big question that he had been meaning to ask for a long time, but hadn’t had the courage. He finally decided it was time to ask it straight forward. “What happened to my mother?”
Lady Skie sighed sadly. She knew that the day would come when she would have to explain what happened to Lady Alaya, but she never expected the day to arrive so soon. She sighed again, then looked at Damion, her face reflecting her sadness. “She died when you were born. She had been hurt very badly, and didn't have enough strength to survive your birth.”
Damion gasped in horror, then began to cry, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of guilt. The knowledge that his mother died giving birth to him was crushing. He buried his face in his pillow, weeping uncontrollably. After his tears had finally run their course, he sat up and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “What was she like? Was she pretty? Did...Did she l-love me?” Tears began to form in his eyes once again, but he bravely wiped them away and awaited his answer.
Lady Skie sat down on the edge of his bed and gently took him into her arms. “She was a very beautiful young woman, with long dark hair, and chestnut eyes, just like yours. She had a very kind heart, and she loved you and your father very much. She was the first one to know that you were a very special child. She said that your birth was a sign from the gods, and you th
at were going to change the world.”
They sat together in silence for several minutes, then he yawned, and his eyes began to droop sleepily. “I wish I could have met her. There are so many things that I wish I could say to her.”
She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “All you have to do is tell her. Where ever she is right now, I am sure she is listening to your every word.”
He smiled a tired smile, then closed his eyes, too weary to fight sleep any longer. Within moments, he was dreaming pleasant dreams of huge willow trees and giant exploding apples.