Water's Reflection or Hero's Guilt

Chapter Ten

So yeah, I gave up NaNoWriMo. Not because of the writing--I'm still liking the story and all of the writing. But because of time and my lack of it; school projects demand just a bit too much of me. I will still try and write as much as I can though :).

Anyway, enjoy the chapter. It's a big one, and with some new things in it. New characters, new worlds... just read, you'll see ;).

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          The sand in the hourglass slowly trickled down. The Royal Mage frowned; he turned from the object on his desk to the center of his study. Two of his alchemists were crawling over the ground, following thin red lines drawn on the stones. They did not look at the Mage, but instead kept their eyes on the floor, examining the complicated markings. They had spent all day preparing, and the Royal Mage was displeased with the results. He glanced at the sandglass again, watching how the top bulb slowly emptied.

          “We'll be done in time,” said Deepwell. The old alchemist stood in the doorway, overlooking his colleagues. He was in charge of the ritual to perform and held a close eye on the preparations. The Mage, however, would not be comforted that easily.

          “It's not done yet—you said it would be done an hour ago!”

          The old man did not respond; there was little to say about it. The markings should have been ready then, that had been their agreement, yes. But these kinds of complicated drawings could easily be faulty if the lines were off by only an inch, and that would make for dangerous magic. “We are just checking that everything is correct and in working order,” he said. “We still have time.”

          “Not much,” the Mage muttered and motioned at the hourglass. It was slowly nearing its turning point—by then, the ritual had to be performed. If it wouldn't, he'd have to wait for the next day. And the Royal Mage was slowly losing the patience to wait for another day...

          “We'll have it ready,” Deepwell told him once more and turned his attention to the work in progress. The two alchemists that were checking the marks worked carefully, as instructed by him. To Deepwell, another day would not hurt the Mage. A rush job, however...

          “How long will you be gone?” he wondered, to make conversation.

          The Mage grunted. “That is not of your concern. You know what to do while I am gone; follow standard protocol.”

          “Yes, sir. But still, when may we expect to see you back?”

          He shot the old man an annoyed glance, warning him not to question him. However, Tom Deepwell was not a man to be intimidated easily; with his old age, he had collected wisdom that granted him a sense of security. In response to the Mage's look, he smiled slightly, to comfort him into telling him anyway.

          “I'll be back as soon as it's finished,” he muttered.

          “As soon as what is finished?”

          He did not answer. “That is none of your concern.”

          “We are your alchemists,” said Deepwell, “here to serve you, sir. If you would tell us your task, we might aid you in it...”

          But the Mage shook his head again. “You have no business in my duty, Deepwell, so I suggest you stay out of it. If I need my alchemists to help me, I'll be sure to call upon them.”

          The both of them were quiet for a while. Then, Deepwell asked, “It's Terrance, isn't it?”

          “Excuse me?”