Darkspur

Chapter 8 - The Whole Truth

Inside, in the small kitchen, was warm and stuffy. Stretching over the sink still full of the night befores dishes, Hankle swung open one of the small, square pained windows. The scent of lavender wafted into the room from their small garden outside and Sam's father loudly inhaled, closing his eyes.

"I love that smell," he said, not turning from the window. "It reminds me of my home when I was young, the flowers covered the hillside."

He turned, smiling at his son and lifted a clay jug from the counter. He popped the stopper and poured Sam a small cup of sweet apple juice, motioning him to sit at the kitchen table. Hankle followed suit and sat across from his son, pouring himself a cup. Sam watched as his father drank down half the mug, wiping his top lip, sighing as he placed the juice down on the table. He seemed to try and speak, then shook his head, staring into the far corner of the room. Eventually he coughed and spoke.

"We're not from Chesford, Sam," he said, talking of the nearby village. "We arrived here about seven years ago and found this run down farmstead, which I bought from a local land owner."

He took another gulp of juice.

"You originally come from Darkspur. We left there not long after you were born, not long after your mother..." he didn't finish the sentence. "I was in the City Watch, quite high up the chain of command and we had a comfortable life, but I had a disagreement with the King."

Sam's eyes widened, "You know the King, what's he like?"

"He's a good man," Hankle said, nodding. "Looks after his people well, but he's also a very stubborn man and we didn't see eye to eye on a couple of things. One day we had an argument, it got more and more heated until eventually, regrettably, I hit him."

"You hit the King?" Sam couldn't hide his shock.

"Son, I am not proud of myself. I should never have used violence but on this occasion he was wrong, and to this day I will stand by my principles and tell you he is still wrong."

"But father, no-one is allowed to hit the King, why are you not in jail?" Sam asked.

"For my exemplary record as a leader of his men, I was permitted to leave, banished from Darkspur. I had plenty of money saved and I took you and your brother away from the Black Keep forever," Hankle lowered his head, staring at the table.

Sam didn't know what to do with this information, he was in shock. Of all the things that had went through his head lying in bed the night before, nothing had been close to this.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked.

Hankle shook his head. "I was ashamed. You may not understand now, Sam, but I was an honourable man. That's all gone now."

"You're still an honourable man, brother," Cass had appeared in the kitchen doorway. "You're the most honest man I have ever known and that spat with, Caden, doesn't change my mind one bit. If you hadn't hit him that day, I would have."

"You were there, Cass?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I too, was in the service of the King," Cass replied. "I left with your father, the very same day."

"Sam, this is my little brother," he gestured at Cass, "your uncle. Another secret I should have shared with you."

Sam cocked his head, processing the information. Then he realised, this was family and until now it had just been him and his father. He got up and ran to Cass, throwing his arms round his waist, burying his head in slim man's stomach. He looked up at the Teller.

"I'm glad you're my uncle. Can you stay here with us now that I know?" he asked, smiling up at the man.

"I'll be here for the foreseeable future, little man, don't worry about that," he assured Sam, grinning at Hankle.

Sam pushed himself away from Cass, frowning.

"But what's this got to do with the test?" he asked.

Hankle scratched his forehead and paused. "I had to tell you the rest first but it's really more to do with your mother than anyone else."

Sam knew very little about his mother. It seemed to pain his father to talk about his wife, so, after years of asking, Sam had simply gave up; maybe now he would find out more about her.

"Moryen was a very special woman, loved and respected by so many people. You see she was an Arch Magi, do you know what that is?" he asked and Sam shook his head. "It means she was a very powerful magic user, one of the most powerful ever known and because of that, you could also have the power."

Sam didn't know how to react. His stomach was churning with excitement, he felt his face flush and he started to shake.

"Now don't get too excited, there's just as much chance you don't have her power," Hankle took Sam's hand. "That's what the test will find out."

"When can we do the test?" Sam asked.

Hankle and Cass explained magic in more detail as they ate dinner. Sam, though, wasn't hungry, picking at his food, not really interested in eating, preferring to listen intently to the two men. Even though there was magic in his family, there were no guarantees it would be passed on to him. His brother, Hedera, had succeeded in the test and would have gone away for more in-depth tuition to find out what his natural calling was.

They explained that without the training it would be very hard for someone to control their abilities, saying there had been many tragedies because of this. The test was in no way precise, it just verified if the power was there and how strong it was likely to be. Sadly though, the sickness had taken Hedera before he had time to discover his potential. There were many different and varied forms of magic, not one user was identical to the next and it could be a long process to find out which aptitude was specific to that individual.

What Sam could understand from the huge amount of information being thrown at him was that there were many different titles for the styles. There were Elementalist, Healers, Rune Weavers, Agrestals, Artifice and these were only some of the names Sam could remember, most of which he couldn't even pretend to understand what form of magic the name represented.

"I think you've had enough for tonight, son," his father eventually said. He could see Sam's eyes glaze over as Cass excitedly shot another piece of knowledge at him.

Sam himself found it hard to disagree. He was so tired, his head full of so much new information he was having trouble processing it all.

"Why don't we go for a walk to the Tree," Hankle suggested, "and maybe Cass can tell us a story, let your mind settle a bit."

Sam nodded, he just wanted his head to stop racing and a story from his new uncle would help him calm the storm bouncing between his ears. So they made their way to the Story Tree, his favourite place in the whole world and he snuggled in-between Hankle and Cass on one of the low benches. And as the sun set, Cass recounted tales from his many travels until Sam eventually drifted of to sleep, head on his fathers knee.