Forgotten Vale

Chapter 2

The day after the king's funeral, Mage Charley summoned Ashton to his study.

"You called, sir?" Ashton said as he entered the mage's study. The mage was sitting in an ancient oak chair in front of his fireplace. But the fireplace was unlit.

"Well don't just stand there gawking, boy!" the mage cried. "Come over here."

Slowly, Ashton strode over to the old man. He seemed older and more wizened, if possible. Ashton guessed that the king's death had taken its toll on the mage, as it had to everyone else.

"I've forgotten your name," the mage said.

"It's Ashton, sir," Ashton replied.

"Ah, yes, Ashton," the mage said. "Your father was Orville, Captain of the Guard, was he not?"

"He was," Ashton responded. Mage Charley nodded and added, "Great man, your father. He saved the life of the king, you know."

"I know."

Ashton frowned as memories of his father came flooding in his mind. Playing in the snow, listening to stories at night, watching as he marched away to war for the last time.

"With all due respect, sir, you didn't bring me here to talk about my father," Ashton said.

"Of course not!" Mage Charley snapped, reverting back to his cranky self. "I brought you here to teach you."

"What are you going to teach me?" Ashton asked curiously.

"Magic," Mage Charley replied, his stormy grey eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"First off, do you have anything of great personal value?" Mage Charley asked.

"Only my father's wedding ring," Ashton said. He then unclasped the chain from around his neck and showed it to the old man.

"Excellent," the mage said with a nod of approval. "Keep it in your hand while I go and find my staff."

The old man stood from his seat shakily and hobbled over to one of his bookshelves. Ashton wondered where all of the mage's energy had gone. It was just a few days ago that he was bounding down the stairs to the king's chamber.

The mage reached out and brushed his fingers against the books. At once, the bookshelf began to shudder and shake. Mage Charley stepped back as a glass case rose from the ground in front of the bookshelf. The mage placed his hand over the case, not close enough to touch it though. The glass separated and slowly, the staff rose from its cushion and Mage Charley grasped it. The moment the wood of the staff touched the mage's skin, he began to change. It was as if he were aging backwards. Ashton watched in both fascination and horror as the wrinkles in the mage's face began to iron out. Some of the white in his hair turned a dark grey, and slowly, his back began to straighten out.

"That's better," the mage croaked. He then walked nimbly over to Ashton.

"What just happened?" Ashton asked. The mage laughed good-naturedly and said, "Magic has prolonged my life. If I told you my actual age, you would be shocked. But the longer I go without magic, the older I get. It's both a blessing and a curse. But enough of that, let's get on with your training."

Mage Charley taught Ashton several useful spells. Simple yet effective. And at the end of their session, the mage transferred some of the magic stored in his staff to Ashton's ring.