Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (3 page)

Alela sprang off of the sofa with a look of irritation on her face. “Gavin! Our son came home a hero, don't slight his accomplishments.”

Gavin rolled his eyes at his wife. “I didn't mean anything by it. I just think that Philip should have been the leader, that's all.” Then turning back to Philip, “We are proud of you, son.” He emphasized the word are, all the while intently holding his son's gaze. “I expect great things from your future, but unfortunately something has come up that requires my attention. But, I will see you tonight at dinner and you can tell us all about the battles.” He turned and started out of the parlor, “You know how it is, affairs of state and all.” Gavin disappeared around the corner, and they could hear his footsteps heading down the corridor.

Alela put her hand on Philip's shoulder, “I'm sorry Philip. He doesn't mean anything by it; he just doesn't know how to show that he cares.”

Philip put his hand on top of his mother's hand, “It's all right. I understand.” Silently, just to himself, he wondered if he really did understand.

Days turned into weeks, as Flare learned not only rules of etiquette, but also the history of Telur; and not just the history of the kingdom, but also the history of the important families of the realm. How the families were related and what those relations meant to the politics of Telur. He quickly found himself glad he was not the first in line for the throne, since the future king would be required to use all of this information. He really didn't see why he needed to know all of these things though. Certain portions of the lessons fascinated him, but for the most part, he was just plain bored. More and more he would interject questions hoping to steer the topic to something a little more interesting. Dagan took notice, and tried to supply the more interesting tidbits of knowledge.

Flare quickly decided the king had been right when he said there was not a better person to learn from than Dagan. The old man spoke his mind, even if it was to say the king was acting foolishly. Flare was amazed that Dagan refused to hold his tongue, and worried not one bit about the repercussions.

“Dagan, why did the king say you know more about the court that he does?” Flare asked one morning in the middle of a lesson he was completely uninterested in. “Is it because you have been in the court for so long?”

Dagan scowled, “Are you trying to say I'm old?”

Fighting hard, Flare resisted the urge to smile. “Of course not, but you are older than the king.” He answered diplomatically. Dagan had developed a tendency to get ornery, but most of the time Flare thought he was putting on rather than actually being contrary.

Dagan watched for several moments, apparently trying to see if Flare would smile or in some way make fun of him. When he did not, the old man responded, “Young man, I have been a councilor to three generations of Telurian kings. I was considered old when king Darion was born.” He paused as if waiting for Flare to say something, when he didn't, Dagan continued. “King Darion is a good man, although I feel he listens to the wrong advisors sometimes. Like that fool, Angaria. You know there was a time when I was one of the first consulted by the king's father. My advice was sought above all else, but now King Darion thinks I am too old. He thinks I don't know what is going on, and he listens to men who have their own personal ambitions.”

“Do other people in the royal court seek your advice?” Flare asked.

“Most people are scared of me,” Dagan answered flatly.

Flare smiled, and started to make a joke of the comment, but the old man wasn't laughing. The smile slowly slid from Flare's face, “Why are they afraid of you Dagan?”

Dagan smiled, and it was such a smile that froze Flare's blood. “Only a fool isn't afraid of a sorcerer,” He said in a calm quiet voice that Flare almost didn't hear.

“Sorcerer? I thought that you were just an advisor,” Flare said, somewhat surprised.

“Paw! When the king started thinking me too old is when he started calling me an advisor. Before that, I was always introduced as the king's sorcerer.” Dagan was lost in thought, and Flare let him wander, patiently waiting for him to return to the here and now. “I was always in the king's presence, but now I am just an afterthought. It almost seems that the king is waiting for me to die, and until then he humors me.”

Interest and pity fought within Flare, and the interest won. “Dagan, elves don't practice sorcery. In fact, I don't even know exactly what it is.” He said, hoping to change today's lesson to something a little more interesting.

Dagan waved an old bony hand at Flare, “The elves always were restrictive in what they thought was appropriate, and you're wrong about elves not practicing sorcery. I know some elven sorcerers myself, and I have heard of others that practice in elven society although not publicly.”

Flare was surprised, and thought about questioning the old man. But then again, how many elven warriors used magic?

Dagan moved a piece of paper with a family tree on it off of his lap. They had been reviewing the paper, but Flare was glad to see it go. “Don't think I don't know what you're doing, boy. It just so happens that I too am getting bored with this genealogy. Maybe a little diversion would be good for both of us.”

Flare's mood leaped at the words, he could only take so much of being bored half to death.

“Magic is the practice of using rituals and items to reach a desired goal. Sometimes the only thing needed is a word or sentence of power. Other times, elaborate rituals involving magic items and multiple people are required. What makes a magic user good, is adroitness and a good memory, but that's not true for a sorcerer. Sorcery is an inborn talent. Either you have it or you don't. Learning how to use the abilities are involved, but if you do not have the talent, then it doesn't matter how much you try and practice.” He paused to re-adjust himself in the chair. “You see Flare, every person is born with a spirit, and that spirit, that life energy is what determines a person's ability to be a sorcerer. The stronger that life energy, then the stronger a sorcerer that person can be. Do you know what sorcerer's can do?”

Flare shook his head no. He found himself more awake and interested today than he had been in days. He was enjoying this brief respite from the histories of families that he had never heard of, or cared to ever hear of again.

Dagan smiled, enjoying the attention Flare was paying to his words. “Sorcerer's use their spirit to manipulate things in the physical world. For instance, a sorcerer can move things by thinking about it.” Flare almost jumped, as a book that had been sitting on the table suddenly started floating on its own toward them. The book came to rest on the floor beside his chair. Dagan smiled before continuing, “Sorcerer's can communicate over long distances, they can influence people's decisions, and powerful sorcerers have been able to control another person's mind. Sorcerer’s can also create illusions, and cast charms on people. A select few have been known to receive visions and give prophecies. Every person has this energy within them, but most don't know about it, and if they did know about it, most still wouldn't be able to use it. And sometimes people use it without even knowing about it. If you walk through the market place, you will see merchants selling their wares. However, if you look close enough, you will see merchants who outperform their rivals, even though their rivals merchandise is of the same quality. What's the difference between the two? If you ask most people, they will say that one merchant has charisma, and the other does not. On a rare occasion however, the one merchant may be using his life energy to influence people to choose his wares. And they don't even know that they are doing it.”

“So a person learns how to be a sorcerer quickly?” Flare asked.

“A person can learn to be a sorcerer quickly, but even I learn new things about sorcery all the time. It takes a long time to become a master sorcerer.” Dagan paused for several moments before continuing, “Flare, do you know what wizardry is?”

“No.” Flare answered quickly. The only thing he knew about wizardry is that it was banned.

“I'm not surprised. The elves like wizardry even less than they like sorcery. Wizardry is also called summoning.”

At the mention of summoning, the hairs stood up on the back of Flare's neck. Summoning was a word he knew. Summoners used flame in a ritual which allowed them to summon beings from another plane of existence. Demons had been summoned in the demon-lord war to fight terrible battles for their human masters. “Dagan, that's a dark art, and I thought that wizardry was not allowed anymore.”

Dagan smiled, “Why is it a dark art? How do you know, Flare?”

Flare frowned, “I do not know firsthand, but I have always been told that wizardry is horrible and those that practice it should be punished. During the demon-lord wars thousands died because of the demons.”

“Not because of the demons but because of the humans that controlled the demons.” Dagan corrected, and Flare's eyes narrowed as he considered the difference. “The church agrees with you. In fact, they are starting to look down on sorcerers, as well. It's only a matter of time until they outlaw sorcery, the church banned wizardry shortly after the death of Osturlius and the punishment is death by torture.”

Flare almost fell out of the chair he had been sitting in. “They banned it after Osturlius died? Does that mean that Osturlius' sin was something to do with Wizardry?”

Dagan cocked his head as he watched Flare, “Who says he sinned, and more importantly why is wizardry bad? You can't answer that question, can you?” Dagan paused, looking smug. “The answer, Flare, is that wizardry is wrong because people have told you its wrong, and they told you its wrong because people are afraid of it.”

“But summoning is dangerous. Horrible things can be unleashed on the world,” Flare said, a knot of doubt growing in his stomach.

Dagan picked up a steaming cup off of the small end table that was beside the chair. “Many things are dangerous. A sword in the hand of an idiot is dangerous, or a sword in the hand of a master swordsman is also dangerous. A warrior who uses magic is dangerous.”

The words hit him like a slap across the face. 'A warrior who uses magic,' now why did Dagan say that? Does he know about me? Flare struggled to not show the fear that was blossoming in his stomach.

Dagan just sat there, sipping his drink and watching Flare.

“Warriors are not allowed to learn magic, Dagan. What would make you say something like that?” Flare asked. The knot of doubt in his stomach was turning into a knot of fear.

A smile crept across the face of Dagan. “Why are warriors not allowed to learn magic?” the old man asked; answering the question with a question.

Feeling too nervous to remain seated, Flare stood up and paced back and forth while saying, “It has been that way since the demon-lord wars. Ever since my grandfather, king Osturlius’s fall, actually he is my great, great, great, grandfather. Anyway, his fall caused a curse to be placed on all elves by the gods, and since then warriors have been forbidden on pain of death from learning the magical arts. You know all of this, so why do you pretend not to know?” Flare was trying to conceal his nervousness, but he knew that he was doing a terrible job. Perhaps he could pass it off as being uncomfortable about talking about his grandfather.

Dagan paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke, “Flare, I have heard that king Osturlius did something horribly wrong, and that he died for it. I have also heard of a curse supposedly put on the elves, however I do not know what king Osturlius is supposed to have done, nor do I know why the curse was placed on the elves.” Flare had stopped pacing, and was staring intently at Dagan. “Perhaps, Flare, you can explain these things to me.”

Actually the last thing he wanted to do was continue talking about these things, but he didn't see how to get out of it now. He had after all started the conversation. “King Osturlius was away from Solistine, which was not unusual, since he was a member of the Dragon order. All I know is that something he did drastically offended the gods. A stone statue came alive in the elven temple, and spoke to a priest. It condemned the king's actions and pronounced a curse on all elves. King Osturlius was never heard from again, and it's still a mystery as to what happened to him.”

Dagan nodded his head in agreement, “That pretty much the same story that I have heard. I knew that a priest had said that the gods had placed a curse on the elves, but I did not know about the talking statue. Tell me, do you know if just the one priest saw the statue?”

Flare shrugged his shoulders, “I believe it was just the one priest, but remember that priest has been dead for a long time. Why do you ask?” He returned to his seat as he asked the question.

Dagan bit his lip before continuing, “I have a tendency to question things that are told to me. In this case, King Osturlius was condemned by the words of a single man, uh, in this instance, I guess he was condemned by the words of a single elf.” He scratched his chin before continuing, “It's not any more believable than the church saying that wizardry is a black art, if you can't give me an irrefutable reason, then I question it.”

“Don't you believe what I have told you,” Flare asked. He felt somewhat offended.

“I believe you told me the story as you heard it, but just because somebody tells me something does not mean I believe it. Stories and so called truths are affected by the people that tell them. The story you just related to me may have been changed over the years by the people telling it. Most of the time they don't mean to change the story, but their beliefs are involved whether they want them to be or not.”