The Arkanist

Chapter Seven: Lessons

Chapter Seven: Lessons

He wasn't old, you should understand. He was actually quite young. I guessed in his thirties, although he never told me his age and he never told me where he came from. I never asked. Aryl was a man of mystery, and sometimes it's better not to solve them. I learned that the hard way.

            The morning sun broke the horizon in pallid yellow flame, and I woke to its golden glow as it streamed in through the window of Aryl's study. When I peeled my eyes open and yawned a single, great yawn, I noticed that he wasn't there, disappeared without a trace, abandoned me without a note.

            I made it two hours before leaving to search for him. For me, it had felt like a year of waiting, and I hate waiting. Hate it. Looking back, it was probably not the smartest thing to do, being that, one, he could have been anywhere, and two, I didn't know how to open the bronze-plated door back into the tower.

            Lucky for me though, I found him easily enough. He was sitting in the small courtyard just outside the library, a staff in his resting grasp, looking very wizardly. He was only missing the hat.

            "You failed," he said, matter of fact, as I walked up to him, disappointment creeping into his voice.      

            "What?" I said, confused. As far as I was concerned, we weren't playing a game, and if we were, I didn't know what the hell I had done wrong.

            Aryl stood up, leaning on his plain oak staff. In the morning sunlight, his hair was wild and his beard was greying, and he had a strange look about his eyes. He looked like someone who hadn't slept in a fortnight, or some crazed delusional. I gathered quickly that either, if not both, of those descriptions could have been true.

            "You left," he said, craning his neck in question. "Did I grant you leave from my tower?"

            My shoulders slouched slightly in defeat. "No," I sighed.

            "Then you failed."

            His words smacked me like cold iron to the face. I was not used to those words. I was not used to how it felt, so, me being the fool I was, lashed out. "Failed in what?"

            "Listening."

            "But you never told me that," I barked back.

            "I shouldn't need to," he said, calm. "Listening is not explicitly with your ears. Listening is many things. Listening is knowing. Listening is seeing, it is thinking. You did none of these things, and so forth, you have failed."

            He wasn't making any sense. That made it all the worse. I failed and I still did not know what I had failed at or why.

            "This is your first lesson of what will be many to come," he began. "Do you understand?"

            I nodded, biting my lower lip as I did so.

            "Good, you listened, even if you are biting your lip, you listened" he said, smiling briefly, a small amount of spite in his voice. "Now, if you are to live with me, which I greatly resent, mind you, you are going to learn. You have an eye for learning, this I have seen, but your curiosity is dangerous. It made you pry open my book, made you a target for the Empire of Antur. These things are not good."

            "I'm sorry." It was the first thing that came to my mind.

            "Don't apologize," he said. "It doesn't do anything." He began walking, walking towards the library, and I followed. "You will have access to the library again and to my stores, both food and money, and you will meet me in my study by fourth bell, everyday, for lessons. If you are late, or do not show, we are done. Understand?"