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#Post#: 508--------------------------------------------------
Tales of the Past Episode 1: The Ways of the Wizard
By: slimemold4 Date: December 4, 2012, 8:11 am
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Dracona, Karra, and Cyndor sat huddled around a fire in a small
clearing. It was pitch black, a moonless night in the dead of
winter. It had been a rather gloomy, snowy day, and they all
welcomed the warmth of the fire. Cyndor watched his breath float
in lazy clouds upward into the crisp night air.
After they had all eaten a hearty meal of roasted rabbit stew,
"fresh" bread (Made so by Cyndor's time powers.), and a large
portion of a once full wineskin, Karra leaned forward and
addressed Cyndor. "So you're a god. Surely you have a few good
stories to tell."
Dracona said nothing, but you could tell she was listening with
interest. "How about the time I was in the Eyrie? That's a good
one." Cyndor asked.
"We where there for that." Dracona said. Cyndor's brow furrowed
as he tried to remember a story. "Why don't you tell us about
how you learned magic? I'd like to hear that." Karra nodded her
agreement vigorously.
The clearing was silent for a long time as Cyndor studied
Dracona and Karra, then changed to staring off into the dark of
the night, obviously deep in thought. "Mages are special
people." He began at last. "People gifted with the power of
magic are few, and they used to be even fewer. When I was born,
it was common for one in a hundred thousand people to be born
with magic." He was silent for a long time yet.
"I wasn't one of them."
-----------------------------------------------------------Episo
de
1: The Ways of the
Wizard----------------------------------------------------------
------------------
Cyndor awoke slowly, clumsily finding his footing in the
darkness. It was always dark. Only when he went above did he see
the light, and even then it was rare. Always go above at night.
Those where the rules. Everyone knew them.
He vaguely remembered the time when his parents had lived above
with him. He had been three when they died. Now he was seven.
Seven was a good number. Seven was strong. Seven was lucky.
Seven was magic.
Magic. Cyndor longed for magic. To see it, touch it, taste it,
smell it, anything. He had seen magic just once. One day he had
gone above too early. It wasn't quite night yet. That's when he
saw it. Magic.
A man had been weaving some kind of spell for a crowd, blowing
fire out of his nose, making things levitate, controlling water
in mid-air. The people scared Cyndor though, so he had scurried
back below. Back where it was safe. Back to the caverns of the
Heart of Things.
But Cyndor couldn't stay below forever. He knew. Other people
had gone above and never come back. He had seen it. Well he
didn't really see it, it was too dark in the Heart of Things,
but occasionally he heard things. Talked to people. One time he
caught a swam lizard without even looking.
Cyndor missed the swamp lizard. He had been a good friend, for a
while. Cyndor had taken a liking to him. Well, he was better off
lonely than hungry. Poor Swampy... Cyndor thought, patting his
stomach. He was hungry. He was always hungry. It wasn't ever
easy to be fed, not in the Heat of Things.
Cyndor sighed. That was probably why he couldn't do magic.
Magic's the easiest on a full stomach! Cyndor said to himself
for perhaps the millionth time. He had heard that phrase once,
when he was younger. He couldn't remember where, but since then
it had become his mantra, his creed. He always thought that
maybe if one day he ate enough to where he couldn't eat any
more, he would be able to use magic. Until that day he'd just
have to be content with his imagination.
And imagine he did. It was pretty much all he did while waiting
for night to come. He sat, and imagined what he would do once he
got his magic. He dreamed of fiery infernos, oceans bending to
his very will, mountains moving at the touch of his finger. One
day he would do it. One day.
Once it was night, Cyndor climbed out of the Heart of Things and
above into the world. The city was the only world he knew of.
That and the Heart of Things. That was all that existed, as far
as he knew. Something was different about this night. Something
didn't seem right. It felt like people where still about, in the
darkness. Cyndor had seen other people out at night before.
Robbers, rapists, murderers, and even others from the Heart of
Things. But tonight it felt like other people. Like city people.
The whispers. He could hear the whispers. People where about. He
could hear the whispers of their feet on the ground, of their
fires on sticks, of their clothes swish-swishing. Something
strange was afoot. Cyndor followed the whispers and saw a large
group of people standing in the city's larges square. They all
appeared to be watching something.
That's when he saw it. There where four people laying on the
ground in the center of a ring of people. One of them was
rolling around and alternating between screaming and giggling.
He was obviously mad. The other three lay there, silent.
Unmoving. Where they sleeping? Or . . . Cyndor shook his head.
He didn't want to think about it. All of them where covered in
blood.
"Another group that tried the Tower, eh?" Cyndor heard someone
say. The Tower? Cyndor had never heard of the Tower. All he knew
was the City and the Heart of Things.
"Anyone who tries the Tower deserves this. It's all lies I tell
you." Another voice said. "You won't get any wish if you make it
to the top. Have you ever known anyone who got their wish?"
"Have you ever known anyone who made it to the top?" The first
voice said. Cyndor wasn't listening anymore. He had heard
enough. The Tower granted your wish when you made it to the top.
The Tower had secrets. The Tower had Magic. And so would he.
He had to find the Tower.
TO BE CONTINUED
in my next post. >:D
#Post#: 510--------------------------------------------------
Re: Tales of the Past Episode 1: The Ways of the Wizard
By: slimemold4 Date: December 5, 2012, 8:04 pm
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"Wait a minute." Karra interrupted.
Cyndor looked up from the flames. "Hm?"
"How old were you when you stopped aging?" She asked, looking
slightly dubious.
Cyndor shrugged. "About 27. Though, I admittedly used some magic
to make myself look younger." Cyndor flashed a smile and struck
a pose. "Don't I look like a dashing 20 year old?"
Karra rolled her eyes. "So how long were you with Kronos then?"
"Exactly 3 years from the day we met to the day I killed him."
Cyndor said, matter-of-factly. "I don't see where you're going
with this."
"Well what were you doing between the time you got your magic
and the time you met Kronos?" She asked.
"Nothing." Was the simple response.
"Nothing?"
"There was no time between when I finished climbing the tower to
when I started working for Kronos." Cyndor said.
Dracona, who had been silent to this point, looked up. "So that
means. . . ?"
"Correct." Cyndor said, grimly. "I climbed that damned tower for
17 long years."
--------------------------------------Part
2---------------------------------------
Cyndor didn't waste any time in the city. There was nothing left
for him. Nothing he owned, nothing he needed. He just ran. He
ran to the edge of the city and didn't stop running until he was
stopped by the gate guards.
"What are you doing out here at this time of night, kid?" One of
the guards asked, barring Cyndor's path with his pike.
"Tell me how to get to the Tower." Cyndor said determinedly, not
wavering an inch.
The guards all stared at him for a few seconds and then burst in
to uproarious laughter. "You? You want to go to the Tower?!"
Cyndor licked his lips nervously. "My, uh. . . My brother took
the challenge. It's been a week. I want to be there when he. .
." He started to tear up. Cyndor could put on a pretty good act
when he needed to, it came with being a street rat.
The guards all sobered up and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm
sorry boy." The guard that was blocking his path said. "The
Towers about a mile to the west. I hope your brother isn't . . .
well I hope he got his wish."
Cyndor nodded, letting a few tears stream down his face. Then he
burst into a run out the open gate, straight for the Tower. He
had to work to conceal his grin. Magic!
To a boy of 7, a mile was quite a ways. It took him nearly an
hour to trek through the dark, swampy wood in the middle of the
night. Finally, he saw a light in the darkness. A massive
cylindrical structure loomed out of the ground ahead of him. It
look almost as if someone had come by and slammed a gigantic
spear into the ground. Try as he might, Cyndor could not see the
top through the clouds. He swallowed and made his way towards
it.
When he finally reached the doors of the Tower, he could see
that they where meant for people much larger than him. The doors
where humongous, at least 20 feet tall. He reached out with a
tentative hand and touched the smooth, worn wood. Suddenly, the
doors flung open, revealing a large dark room. Cyndor could see
nothing inside.
Licking his lips, Cyndor took a few steps into the room. Nothing
happened. He took another step. Then another. And another. Once
he was a few yards from the doors, they slowly creaked shut,
leaving the room pitch black. Cyndor took a slow breath. He was
used to the dark. He would be fine. But at that moment, torches
all around the room burst into life, making Cyndor almost jump
out of his skin.
"So you've come to try the tower?" A silhouette said, stepping
out from the darkness. He was an older man, maybe in his late
30's. He had a large beard and a sword strapped at his belt. He
looked simple and rather un-menacing.
Cyndor swallowed. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Keeper of the first floor. I decide who goes up," The
man gestured towards the ceiling. "And who leaves." He made a
slashing motion across his throat. "You never answered my
question."
Cyndor was silent for a long time, sizing up the man as best he
could. If it came to it, Cyndor couldn't fight. He would have to
run. But where could he run? There was nothing Cyndor could do.
"No." Cyndor said slowly. He resolved himself to appear
confident. "I came to defeat it."
The man gave Cyndor a look, his mouth curling up into a smile.
After a while, he chuckled, which then turned into a booming
laugh, filling the dim cavern. "You're a brave one aren't you?"
He asked, stepping a bit closer. "How old are you, boy?"
"S-seven." Cyndor said, trying to back away from the advancing
man.
"Seven, eh? And what does a young lad like you need with the
Tower?" The man asked, stepping even closer. They where only a
few yards apart now.
Cyndor looked down at his barefoot feet and the rags he was
wearing. "Well . . ." Cyndor started slowly. "I've heard if you
make it to the top you get a wish."
"And what could a boy like you possibly wish for?" The man
asked.
"I want to be the most powerful wizard of all time." Cyndor
looked up into the man's eyes. "No. No, that's not true. I'm
going to be the most powerful wizard of all time."
The man looked him in the eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
"I haven't seen someone with your fire in years." The man said.
"Alright. You pass. Go on up. But be warned. The rest of the
floors won't be nearly as easy."
And with that, he vanished. Leaving Cyndor alone aside from a
stone staircase that had materialized out of nowhere. Cyndor
looked up, steeling himself for whatever was to come. He started
to climb.
Sorry for editing this. I didn't have time to finish last night.
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