The Mage

Chapter One

The wind swept the crag carrying bits of snow through the fortress ruins nestled there. Once a seat of power in the Mountains of Silva, it had long fallen into ruin and forgotten memory. From the tower a wisp of smoke danced on the wind, in its keep slept a man bundled in furs. His long white hair covered his face as it rested on the large tome. From the open window came the wind, playing with his hair.

A dark brown eye snapped open. Righting himself he closed the heavy volume, the thump of pages closing seemed to echo in the chamber. Walking over to the fire, he stirred what coals remained, crouching down he whispered words of the old tongue to the coals. Logs appeared upon the pile as flames leapt up towards his face. Pulling himself up he made his way down the stairs taking his time as he worked out the stiffness in his body. Reaching the landing he made his way down the corridor. The scrapping sound of metal on stone resounded through the ruins.

With ease he dragged his right leg in the well worn groove. Long ago the foot had been replaced with a short stump of wood and a small metal ball. He could feel the poison in his leg awaking, ever creeping up his leg, yet not fast enough for him to be concerned at the moment. He would soon have the cure to his master's poisonous curse. The end of the passageway came into view, two guards stood in front of a large door. Their armor, covered in dust and cobwebs, housed two skeletons. Pausing by one, the man whispered where an ear once was. He waited a moment when he finished speaking before bursting out in laughter as if the skeleton had replied to his comment. Placing his hand on the guard's shoulder he turned and acknowledged the other one before entering.

Light filtered through broken glass to shine on the table set for a meal which was never served. He limped along the table looking at the two young skeletons before coming to the one on the end. Leaning down he kissed her on the teeth.

"My dear you look lovely as ever." Turning he addressed the young ones. "Well, my love's, what do you have planned for today? Sword and bow, glad to hear that. Diplomacy for both of you as well, it's good you keep busy. My dear I wish I could spend time with you, alas I must travel for a few days." He kissed her on the jawbone, limping past the children and patted them on the head before going into the kitchen. 

The cook sat on a small chair in the corner, surrounded by dust covered barrels and rotting burlap sacks. His chef's hat was tilted to one side of his skill, his hand still clutching a large wooden spoon. He nodded to the chef as he placed a folded piece of paper on the counter, next to the plate of food. The whips of heat floating off the bread bring its aroma to his nose, warming his soul.

"You have out done yourself my friend." Taking the plate he exited the kitchen and slowly limped back to his tower. 

He left the half eaten meal by the broken window frame. He leafed through the pages of the tome, the flapping of wings brought a smile to his face. Stretching he closed the volume, and grabbed a piece of paper. He scratched out a quick message, as the raven flapped to a landing on the window ledge. 

"Your late, Ratheke." He said leaving his back to the raven.

The Raven cawed once before hopping to the floor. It bowed low as it changed into the shape of a man, his face was scared and his black hair was long and tangled.

"Forgive me Regnash."

"Have you found him."

"Yes, Master." He got up and took a small scroll  from the sleeve of his ragged coat. "He lives as lore master, in a small village, three days north of here."

Regnash turned and took the piece of paper. He read its contents before placing it in his sleeve. "Good work, my friend. You can eat the food by the window. I am almost done here."