(FREE COMPLETE BOOK) Wothlondia Rising, Beginnings Saga, Book 1

Chapter 4, Maturation Process (Elec Stormwhisper short)

Chapter 4

Maturation Process

The young high elf had recently celebrated his twentieth winter, and with that had reached a certain level of frustration where his own magical aptitude was concerned. Better said, it was his father who had the issue with his incompetence—Elec had come to grips with his own misgivings years prior. Making matters worse for him was the ascendancy of his siblings in that regard. His brother and sister were both progressing with better than anticipated results, making Elec’s failings even more prominent. It was not their fault, he knew, but it was a very real fact that he could not change, despite his many attempts.

His sister, Aeona, and his brother, Elandion, both older than he, were not only able to tap into the energies within the plane of Arcana, but they were capable of bending those energies and manipulating them with such command that they made them their own. They were masters of the arcane arts whilst Elec was unable to harness even the simplest of magics. He could cast some of the minor spells known collectively to the high elves of Acillia that resulted in subduing or hindering, or which had to do with trivial callings to the elements as opposed to commanding the powers of a raging storm.

Such magic was common knowledge to the high elves of Acillia, especially those of superior social standing, such as the Stormwhispers were. These high elves included Elec’s Uncle Faorath, who often visited his nephew in his workspace where he would be poring over tomes and texts continually in any subject other than those concerning arcane focus.

“Greetings, nephew!” Faorath announced loudly as he entered the room. Elec, seated at his desk, automatically grabbed a text with preparations for spell-casting on its pages and opened it in an attempt to feign studying.

“You are not fooling me,” Faorath said, shaking his head and standing with hands on hips. His uncle had wide, reflective eyes of the deepest amber, and golden blonde hair that accented the hue of his eyes. He wore the finest nature of clothing, with loose fitting sleeves that draped loosely over his slight frame. His breeches were dark blue, his shirt was silver with gold accents and he wore sturdy leather boots. There was a hint of golden jewelry highlighting his wrists and fingers.

“You may be able to dupe the others, but not me,” he finally added.

“Fine,” Elec sighed, knowing that his uncle’s sight and perceptions were more acute than those of a bird of prey. This was also the reason why he was one of the most accomplished of all the Wind Riders of Acillia.

The young elf slid the spellbook to the side, revealing his true project.

“Tinkering with mechanisms still, I see. And what is this?” Faorath looked at the device. He moved it aside and uncovered carefully drawn plans of mechanisms together with notes and alchemical theories beneath those. Faorath simply shook his head and smiled. “Your secret is safe with me, Elec. As long as you are passionate about what you do, I am content with that.”

Elec stood and hugged his uncle tightly, smiling and staring up at him, for Faorath was extremely tall, well over six feet in height.

“You know that your mother only wants you to be happy, too,” Faorath stated. Elec’s white eyes widened at that particular topic and he shook his head, tousling his long, curly black hair. “But Father—“

 “Speak not of Keryth, lad. He only knows what he was shown. He pushes you and your siblings too hard to master your arcane abilities, just as his father pushed him. He knows nothing else.”

Elec looked up at his uncle once more and sighed, knowing deep down that magic and its mysteries would always remain just that—mysteries—as far as he was concerned.