Short Stories and Writing exercises

Excercise # 3: Ignite

Exercise #3

(From http://writeworld.org/blocks)
"In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite."
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence.

Ignite         

The essence of a story can be told in but the one sentence. My story started with a spark and ended with one. I was created, destroyed and reborn from fire. It is my home, my enemy and my identity. Let’s start with a short introduction; My name is Darian Damascus, royal scribe of St. Leonards Chapel, in Lustershire. I was born and raised in this privileged position and was reasonably happy until my house, home and family were charred in a murdering blaze of fire. The source of which was, unfortunately, me. After the monks of St. Leonard found out about at the same time as myself that I was a young pyromancer, I was cast out of the monastery. At the age of twelve I found myself for the first time in my short life outside of the walls I had used to call my home. The monks, being compassionate beings, had given me a backpack containing food to last me for two weeks, a sleeping bag, some money, a tinderbox and a dagger. The roads were dangerous, but the monks were convinced a fire mage, even a small one, would have no trouble dealing with bandits, thugs or other nasty people that roamed the path I was going to take. If only I knew how to use my magic. 

Just before my food supply ran out I found my feet had taken me to Asterdom, A small city close to the monastery. The city was a good week away from my birthplace, but since the monks hadn’t given me a map and I had never left the monastery in my life, I’d reached the city in about twice that time. As I stood in the town gates I gazed for the first time at a large mass of people visiting the annual harvest festival. I couldn’t help but to feel lost and small amongst all those people who had a place to call their own. Every soul in the market seemed to have an own destination and motive that drove them. I felt myself envying those people for I had no idea where to go or what to do now. The ten days in the wilderness had only calmed my senses. I had learned in those days to embrace my new situation, it was the only thing left to do. However I hadn’t considered what to do with my life now that I was free of my old obligations. After having eaten my last chunk of bread and cheese I had made my decision. I wanted nothing more than to belong again in the world that had abandoned me and to do that I’d have to learn how to control my newly discovered powers. I hadn’t used my powers since the fire in St. Leonards. I was too scared to lose control again and burn the forest down. I doubted if I even could summon my fire by will since I had no idea of who I had managed the first time. I patted the dust of my trousers and got up. I remembered reading something about a mages tower in Asterdom where great wizards of old took on apprentices to train them in the arcane art. If there was someone who could help him, it would be them.
I had found the mages library sooner than expected. The crooked tower I remembered from illustrations in my books stood out amongst the roofs of Asterdom. My throat went dry as my knuckles knocked on the large wooden door. What if they wouldn’t have me? Where would I go then? What would I do? Before I could torment myself with these questions any longer the large door slowly creaked open. The face of an old man with hair so white it shone and a long flaxen beard in the same radiant colour looked down upon me. As he saw I was no threat he opened the door a bit further so I could now see he wore a long black robe with the golden insignia of Asterdom, a hand full of wheat ears. ‘What is your business here young one?’ The elder asked me. He didn’t ask in a friendly or unfriendly way. I found it hard to breathe. My voice shook; ‘I-I-eh… came here to ask for help.’ I lowered my head in shame. ‘I accidentally burned down my family’s house with magic I’ve never felt before. I’m scared of this power within me and I have nowhere to go.’ The man was silent. His eyes seemed to take me in from head to toe. I tried to straighten my back to show him I could strong and not useless. ‘Very well’ The man suddenly spoke. ‘You have come to the right place young…’ He waited for me to fill in my name. ‘Darian… Darian Damascus’ I stuttered. I made a deep bow to show my respect for the elder in front of me and nearly fell over in the process. The man sighed with a smile on his face. ‘Now please Darian, no use for such formalities’ He gestured me with his arm to enter the mages tower and I hesitantly set my first foot in my new home. The man guided me down the many corridors of the tower. Some were small and long spaces with think woven tapestries embroidered with strange symbols on them on the walls. Other rooms had high ceilings with a million candles ordered in a chandler lighting up the grey brick walls. Some rooms held many desks for the scholars to work and there were many tall cupboards filled to the rim with various bottles with colourful mixes of crystals and liquids. ‘This ways please, I’d like to talk to you over a good meal. I assume you must be hungry from your travels.’ I slowly nodded. The last of the bread in my pack had not been enough to still my hunger. I thanked the elder for his hospitality, he just smiled. One arrived at the dinner hall the elder offered me a seat. We ate and drank in almost complete silence when he suddenly spoke. ‘You can call me Nathaniel, boy, but please tell me more about your magic.’ I sighed and put down the goblet I had held in my hand. ‘The monks in St. Leonards called me a pyromancer. I’ve never set sire to something before in my life… I don’t even completely remembered what happened to me, I had just turned twelve summers old when suddenly I just…blacked out. ’ My voice died and I felt the eyes of elder Nathaniel rest upon me. He slowly nodded as he placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘Magic often awakes within a child when he is twelve summers old. I can understand it was an overwhelming experience. The young magic is often raw and has been silent for twelve years within the carrier.’ His mouth formed a sad smile as he seemed to remember things of his own past. ‘If left unchecked this raw magic can consume it’s user. It was wise of you to come to us young Darian.’ My eyes teared up at the memories of the things I had pushed out these last ten days. My parents, oh gods my parents. I would never see them again. The elder seemed to notice the change in my mood and quickly changed the subject. ‘If you would like to stay with us we could teach you how to master your abilities and put your magic to good use.’ He gave me a hopeful smile. ‘Even the destruction of fire can be harnessed for good. Fire brings warmth and brings people closer. You’ve witnessed the destructive power of the flame. Allow me to show you tomorrow the healing powers of this fire.’ My face seemed to glow. I wiped the tears from my eyes and steeled myself. This kind man had opened his home to me and had given me hope to continue the future. This was no time to be sad. I once again made a deep bow to my elder. ‘Thank you elder Nathaniel’ I told him. The man smiled. ‘Good. Now get some rest. There is a spare chamber upstairs. Take your belongings there and make the chamber your home. Tomorrow we will begin your study. ’