Chapter 1: The Wizard CaenrayasA Chapter by FantasyOnce, in the village of Caerdas, there lived a wizard. Not some kind of average party-tricks conjurer, but a real wizard, who was seen going in and out of Caerdas regularly; in fact, it was quite uncommon for one of the villagers to have not seen him come or go once, or even twice. His name was Caenrayas, a name of the old language, and, unsurprisingly a common name for wizards in that time. Some thought that his name was not what he said it was; they would argue every night at the local tavern (the Cold boar) about whether the wizard was what he seemed. Usually these arguments spread around the whole interior of the small parlour, and others at further-away tables would stand up, and walk over to the arguing table. One night, as usual, an argument was rife in the musty air. The argument itself had started between two adjacent tables, both containing men. " But Cesraungl, you silly thing; who's ever heard of the name Caenrayas in other places, except here; our supposed 'wizard' is probably just an old fraud who has a beard, and owns a pointed hat; he's just an average old man, who wants lots of respect and attention. I would be surprised if his staff was just an old tree-branch from Daernas! " At this, the younger man, Cesraungl said, " And how would you know; he only has one apprentice, and as far I know, you aren't it! " " Hah! What do you know? You aren't his apprentice either, and I don't think Caenrayas offers free tours of his home and brewing-shop. Hah! " " Well, " replied Cesraungl, " I do have a friend who can tell you. " " Really? " said the opposing man, pretending to be surprised. " Yes, I do. " The opposing man looked over at the gathering crowd and said: " Well, what do you think? Fraud or wizard? " Some of the members of the gathered group were about to speak, the words 'fraud' forming on their lips, and the tavern door was blasted inwards in a torrent of blue light. A cloaked man stepped out of the blueness. He held a knobbled staff in his right hand. The opposer lost his bravado. " Uh oh..." " Who dares oppose me? " boomed Caenrayas, pointing his staff around the room. " I did, " trembled the opposer. Caenrayas looked around the room until he found the man. Then, there was a loud Bang! and a small cloud of white smoke flew around the room. When the smoke cleared, and the crowd looked back at where the man had been, they saw him, slumped in his chair, eyes closed, head back. " What did you do to him? " they all cried in unison, and the wizard replied with only a few words; " He'll wake up in four days' time. " Then, another, smaller figure stepped through the scorched doorway. The wizard acknowledged him with a curt nod, and said, " Drinks, please, Tehnerick. " Tehnerick (Caenrayas's apprentice) went over to the counter. " One ale. " The barman obliged, and Tehnerick slid a few coins to him. Caenrayas had sat down at a nearby table, and laid his staff on his lap. He was fondling it affectionately when Tehnerick said, " Your drink. " A crowd had now started to gather around Caenrayas, talking to him all-at-once. " Is that your apprentice? " questioned another opposer, pointing at Tehnerick. " Hmm...mm.. " Apparently the wizard was not in the mood for speaking. " Tell us a story! " said another member of the crowd, " one of your good ones; you know, about the trolls and the goblins. " There was another ' Hmm...mm.. ' as an answer, but the wizard did start telling the group a story. Tehnerick seated himself at the opposite chair to him. Once, years and years ago, in a darkened cave, there lived a troll. No light passed into his dark lair, only darkness, and rock. Many villagers of other villages would climb the mountain where his hiding-place was, and discover the cave. Then, they went inside. The troll malicously killed them, and ate, leaving none but the bones of his victims. Rumour passed that he even ate the armour, if there was any, of the unfortunate people. And so this terrible demon of the age continued to eat, and eat. Villages became smaller, towns became ruins of the past, all of the troll's doing. Only few had tried to kill this troll, and they scarcely even knew where his lair was. They found him, and tried to wound him, but all were killed after moments of time. Ten kings passed in the time of this foul troll. Five were killed by him, the other five forced from their gains when their whole court and landspeople disappeared. Long centuries passed. The troll ate, and ate. In the rule of king Aneron, the eleventh king to rule in the desolation of the troll, more people died. Then, Erebornas came in. A mighty warrior was he, having slain countless numbers of goblins. The king called for him, and he came. He wore bronze armour when he left, and held a white iron sword, with a round, steel shield. He came back with only his life. The troll, whence he had found the cave, thought that another victim had come for him, and started from the deepness of the back of the cave. Ereborneas stood, sword held high, back bathed in the remenants of the dim sunlight, and charged the troll. A battle of epic proportions had begun then, the troll swiping at Ereborneas with his long, sharp claws, who hit back with his white-iron sword, striking at the troll with unparalelled accuracy. Both races, human and troll suffered horrible wounds. Ereborneas's armour was ripped up like soft fabric in a few moments of the start of the battle, and thee troll had lost three claws of the five on his left hand, and two of the claws on his right. And then, in the final moments of battle, the troll hit Ereborneas's sword away. The white iron glimmered in the darkness, and the troll put together one last surge of pained energy. Ereborneas drew one of the troll's claws from his ruined armour, and fought the troll with it. The battle continued for more time, Ereborneas using the hard, curved troll-claw, the troll using its teeth, arms and remaining claws. Then, the troll became tired, and Ereborneas plunged his claw into its stomach. Black blood seeped out; black blood seeped out, onto Ereborneas's hands and face, and dripped onto his sword a distance away. Troll blood. Black blood. There was a loud burst of applause from the gathered people, and even Tehnerick smiled across the table. The wizard smiled too, and finished off his ale in one, big gulp. The crowd cheeered. And with that, Caenrayas stood up from the table, bowed, swept off his pointed hat, and put it back on again. Tehnerick stood up, and he and the wizard left the tavern. The two some were both smiling as they turned the cobbled road-corner towards the potions brewery. Then, a small horse-cart passed by slowly. The man on top, who had a small beard and black hair looked down at Caenrayas and Tehnerick, before asking, " Could you direct me to the market? " " Down this road, and turn left, " said the wizard. " Thank you. " The cart went by, and the pair continued to walk. " I've been wanting to get back here for some time, " said Caenrayas; " I brewed a potion earlier, and it's still waiting to be stirred; I had to leave it when we left two hours ago. " " Could you show me? " asked Tehnerick, and the old man chuckled. " Of course! You are my apprentice, aren't you? " Caenrayas laughed again, and Tehnerick joined in with him. They came to the brewing-shop, and Caenrayas produced a key from the chain around his neck, and unlocked the door. Soon, they were inside the brewery, and Caenrayas hung his cloak and hat up. Tehnerick followed him through the side door next to the counter, and into the actual brewing-place. The small room's walls were lined with wooden counters and surfaces, on which various different potions fizzed, connected to strange tubes, that led into the walls, or into a round jug of other potion. Caenrayas hurried to the back of the room, his beard swaying, and inspected a small glass vial. " Quatras Borneas, " he said, and held the vial up. The liquid inside was a strange purple colour, merging occasionally with flecks of blue liquid, all inside the one vial. Caenrayas took up a small, iron stick from the counter, and started to stir the potion. Tehnerick watched all of this, and Caenrayas looked back at him, before smiling warmly. The potion bubbled slightly, and the wizard looked back to it. " You know, Tehnerick, " he said, " should you want to have a try at helping me with this. Nothing serious - just a bit of help, to try your skills. " " Okay... " said Tehnerick, and Caenrayas smiled for the third time that day. The iron stick was passed to him, and he dipped it into the vial, before starting to stir slowly the liquid inside. " Good, good! " said the old man, still smiling. " One day maybe I could teach you advanced potion brewing, after all, we only have - let's see - two more years of your apprenticeship. Not a long time at all! " To Tehnerick it seemed like a long time, the arguing days passing agonisingly slowly. Tehnerick stirred for another few minutes, until the wizard called out, " Stop! Stop! We have done enough stirring! " He picked up the small vial, and carried it to another counter, attching it to some other tubes, before saying, " Let us go and inspect the others! " (By others he meant the potions.) The rest of the potions, were, as expected, fine. Before the twosome went up to get some sleep, Caenrayas checked up on his experimental potion once more, making sure the tubes were positioned correctly and connected to the right places. Then, closing the door on the potions room, Tehnerick wearily went up to his room in the wizard's house and brewery; getting into bed and drifting into a long, dreamless sleep.
© 2014 FantasyReviews
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