Ero turned them from the path and guided them down a corridor to a smaller cavern. During the day, light would not penetrate beyond the first bend in the tunnel, and so the rocks near their feet were soon clear of the moss. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled on the floor of the cave, creating massive stalactites, stalagmites and limestone pillars where the older formations had met in the middle. Crystals lined the ceiling, walls and floor, giving the space a surreal look. They passed under crystals that dominated them in both height and girth, jutting out in all directions. The light from their torch danced across the refractive surfaces, lighting the entire space with an orange glow.
They continued in silence, gazing around at the magnificent display. As they traveled deeper inside the caves, the air continued to grow warmer. Ero paused at the back of the cavern, waiting for each of them to take in the view. They could see an opening near the ceiling, and he indicated that they should follow him up to it. Crystals protruded from the wall, creating a natural stairway that they could climb without too much difficulty, but they each envied Ero's wings and his effortless ascent.
They joined him at the top and found themselves facing the entrance to a small cave. He held out one wing to prevent them from stepping in front of him.
“Frigus Abscido.” Ero muttered, from outside the cave. The confused looks on his companion's faces assured Osric that none of them understood the language, either. In response to Ero's words, a transparent, magical shield shimmered for an instant in the doorway of the cave, and then he dropped his wing to allow them to proceed. Warm, moist air rushed ahead of them into the room as they were led inside. Ero waited until they had all entered and turned, speaking the words, “Frigus Adaugeo,” in the direction of the opening. They caught the momentary shimmer of the shield reforming, and it grew distinctively cooler in the room than it had been in the chamber outside.
“What was that you just did?” Gus inquired.
“Magic,” spoke Ero, in a disgusted tone, “You have all come a long way when it comes to magic, but you could learn a lot from the past. The past is why I have brought you here today.”
“That is ridiculous! Magic has never been as well explored as it is today!” Gus was in the mood to argue, and when it came to the subject of magic, he refused to back down.
“By all means, wise one, tell us what you know of the spoken spell.” Ero's voice dripped with sarcasm as he cocked his head to the side.
“Well,” Gus stuttered over a few unintelligible words before he gave in, “Oh, go on then!”
“Or could you possibly inform us as to what magical techniques were being studied at the time when wands came to be?” Ero was pushing Gus to keep him quiet, Osric guessed, in case he intended to argue with him on another subject. “No?” Ero questioned, at Gus' grunt of displeasure. “Will you allow me to continue uninterrupted? I have much to teach that even you will find informative. My gift is not found among any of the walkers, and listening may serve you well.”
“Go's on! You's don't gotsta be so mean!” Pebble came to the defense of his father and scrambled down off of Bridgett's shoulder to land unceremoniously on the floor. Gus looked even more uncomfortable having Pebble defend him.
“That's enough out of you, boy!” Gus barked at Pebble and then turned to Ero. “Teach us already, won't you!”
Pebble cowered down, looking over at Gus. Kenneth, Bridgett, and Osric looked at Pebble sympathetically.
“The first lesson is a short one.” Ero stated, leaning toward Gus. “Never make your child think it is a mistake to love his father.”
Gus expressed himself with an irritated growl while Pebble sat pouting at Bridgett's feet. Bridgett scooped him up and he snuggled into her arms for comfort, hiding his face from his father.
“Now, on to business.” Ero said, assuming a proud stance. “To start this off properly, I should inform you that I am a Chronicleer.”
“A what?” Osric and Gus spoke in unison.
“Ah,” Ero looked a bit frustrated by their question and thought for a moment. “You are familiar with the gift of the See-ers, yes?” Ero gestured toward Osric, and frowned at his confused expression.
“All too familiar!” Gus was grumpy again, and then remembered his last lecture, “Well ah, I mean, of course we are, we encountered one the day we left on Greyback.”
“Yes, well,” Ero was baffled by Osric's reaction and Gus' reference, but he could ask them more about it later, “a Chronicleer is, essentially, the opposite.” Ero glanced around at the questioning looks on their faces, growing ever more frustrated by their slow understanding, and adopted Gus' tendency for sarcasm. “You may be asking yourself what good it is to know what you had for dinner last week, but in fact, that is not what I mean. Recently, those of us with the gift have been having dreams and visions of the events surrounding the time of wand creation, and what we have learned from these insights is why I have brought you here today.”
“Wait.” Osric was bothered by the fact that he had somehow angered the eagles to the point of nearly killing him, and he wanted to know how. After observing Ero's interactions with Gus, he suspected that it was not hate with which the eagles looked at ‘walkers', but superiority. He decided to play the role of an inferior, to learn from Ero how to avoid another confrontation with the eagles.
“Yes?” Ero questioned Osric.
“No disrespect intended, Ero, but I would like to understand something first, in order to prevent any future misunderstandings.” Osric said, in his most respectful voice, and bowed slightly, awaiting permission before he continued.
“What is your question?”
“I am sure there are many differences in regards to walkers and fliers, and one of them nearly led to my death earlier today.” Osric attempted to speak in a non-accusatory fashion. “I would like to know what it is that the eagles found offensive about my statements, if you could please.”
Ero eyed him suspiciously as Osric knelt down before him, palms flat on the ground, waiting. As he looked upon the humble human, Ero's expression turned from suspicion to a deep sympathy.
“Has your knowledge of the past truly waned to this extent without our gift?” Ero said in his deep voice as he towered over Osric. There was a tenderness in his tone that none of them had heard from him before. “Rise and build me a fire, and I will tell you the story of those days first.” A tear welled up in one of the eagle's golden eyes, rolled down his hooked beak and dropped, landing in a salty splash on Osric's hand. He was shaken by Ero's display of emotion and was thankful that he had chosen to appeal to him in such a manner.
So Osric rose, wiping his hand on his tunic, and he and Kenneth collected wood from a nearby pile and lit a fire in the pit at the center of the cave. Pebble seemed to know it was time for a fire-telling, and he was antsy with excitement on Bridgett's lap as he waited. Gus sat off to the side, alternating glares at Ero and Osric for his humble display before the arrogant bird. He was taken aback at the treatment he had received and decided to keep to himself. After the fire was built, Ero began his story as everyone gathered to watch the flames.
“Three hundred and twenty nine years ago, humans had just won their last war at great cost. The war they fought against the caldereth cost them dearly in crops, land, homes and hunters to provide for families. Some areas had more than was needed, and others had none. Man needed to establish communication in order to ensure their survival and the making of wands had not yet occurred.” As he told the story, figures could be seen coming to life in the fire in greater detail than any of them had ever witnessed. It was as though it occurred right before their eyes.
When Osric closed his eyes, he saw everything as though he were there. He could feel the dirt beneath his feet, smell the air, and touch the rubble that had once been homes and shops. This eagle has an amazing gift for fire-telling, he thought to himself as he listened with his eyes closed. Ero narrated the story that unfolded in his mind.
“Our cousin flier, the drag
on, was mighty at that time. They had within them a deep love for all walkers, but they had a love for family which was even greater. Man used that love against them for fear that they would not help them in their time of need. Man fashioned steel cages strong enough to hold a dragon, fifty of them, and called to the dragon elders to come for a feast at the Braya Volcano.
“At this time, all dragons trusted humans and felt no danger in answering their call. So when they were told that their meals would have escaped without the cages, the dragons felt no need to question their methods. The trap was sprung, and the cages where sealed by magic.
“Their cries could be heard for miles as they tried to free themselves. Briefly, those in the air tried to come to the aid of their trapped kin, but the walkers killed the eldest dragon, Brinsop, who was one thousand, nine hundred and thirty two years old and the wisest and most loved of his kind.
“That act alone defeated the dragons; they cowered before walkers and submitted to their will. The walkers demanded to be flown about Archana for a small fee, and at all times, to aid any walker that needed travel. The freedom and joy that all dragons had at one time enjoyed was taken from them in violence and manipulation. They had to guarantee safe travel to any who needed flight to speed their journey. If the dragons kept to their part of the agreement, than no other of their elders would be killed, but they would be held there lest they should ever go back on their bargain. They sold themselves into slavery to keep their elders alive but imprisoned!”
Ero was visibly upset by the story he had shared with them, and anger grew in his voice with every word as he spoke. As the images danced before his closed eyes, the sensation of bile rising in his throat caught Osric off guard. He felt physically ill. In his mind, each time Ero paused to let the narrative catch up with his words, he saw the atrocities described as the cages slammed shut. Then he heard the cries of the eagles above rend the sky. He felt the horror as he watched along with them when the wings and tail were ripped off of Brinsop, and cried out at the defeat in every dragon's eyes with their eldest's demise.
There were many species that participated in the slaughter. Irua, weasels, men, elves, groundhogs, and a few species that none of them had ever laid eyes on, could be seen in the abhorrent scene. Though sadness was apparent on some of their faces, none spoke a word in defense of the dragons.
“We were warned by a See-er not to interfere, or to become slaves ourselves.” Ero hung his head as he spoke. “I have witnessed the vision he brought with him to our aerie; it is not a story I want to see transpire.”
“You must understand, as commoners, we had no knowledge that these events even took place.” Bridgett spoke through her tears as she comforted Pebble in his fear and confusion.
“Whether you had knowledge of it or not, you could not expect us to be happy to witness the slavery with our own eyes.” Ero shook with restrained rage.
“And gifting us with this knowledge, instead of trying to slaughter the boy, was beyond you?” Gus gestured in Osric's direction. He was appalled that the eagles had withheld the information from the other races in the interest of their own egos.
Ero looked at Gus in defiance, and then looked away, hanging his head in shame. Kenneth, Gus, and Bridgett all looked at each other in wonder. There was palpable tension in the air as they thought about what they had just witnessed in the flames. Bridgett looked at the tears streaming down Osric's face in confusion. He had sat near the fire and listened to the story, but he had never opened his eyes, and yet Osric seemed to be more affected than the rest of them.
“My apologies to you all. It was wrong of us to hold you responsible for things you had no knowledge of.” Ero spoke slowly as he lifted his head to address them, and ended his words with his gaze on Osric, who was shaking, and drawing in deep, angry breaths.
“If there is enough power within me,” Osric spoke softly into his chest, “I will see their slavery come to an end. I do not know if I can promise success, but I will die before what I just witnessed continues a day longer than it must.” He raised his head to meet the gaze of Ero. “First, though, I must stop a war, and I,” he choked up.
“If any man can,” Ero interjected in a soft respectful voice, “I believe it is you.” He leaned in to embrace him, and Osric spoke a few words that none but Ero could hear. “Yes, you are,” Ero replied to his whispered inquiry, and they exchanged a look of deeper understanding, “and I believe you are more than that. You may be the greatest wizard to ever walk this world.”
Osric sat back down and shook his head, trying to process those words. He held in the sobs that tightened his throat, and ran his hands through his hair. That is not the life that he wanted for himself. He wanted his security post in Stanton; to live simply and raise a family someday. Somehow, his life had been chosen for him, and the responsibility weighed greatly on his shoulders.
“Now, I know you all have absorbed much, but I must continue with what I brought you here to learn.” Ero resumed his lesson after a short time, letting Osric regain his composure.
It was a fire-telling unlike any that Osric had ever witnessed. Only after Ero confirmed his suspicions, did he understand why it was so different. He had been there in the story. He could smell the dragon blood and feel the tension in the air. It had shaken him to his core to see the desperation on the dragons' faces as they pled for Brinsop's safety. It took him several moments to regain control of his heaving chest. Though he had been hungry before the story began, his stomach was knotted into a twisted ball of anger and despair. He was thankful for the time Ero gave him to regain control, though he would have appreciated more; he realized that they did need to continue with their lesson. He closed his eyes, and lost himself in the story once again.
“Shortly before wands were introduced to the world, there was a race to find a way to make magic usable for the masses. The two leaders in the field were a man named Er'amar; a human, and Argan; an ursidae. Both offered widely different ideas of how to go about it, but they promised to present their ideas at a meeting of the newly established Wizardly Union.” Ero had regained his composure, as well as his lecturing tone, and the images once again danced in the flames. He paused at length to allow the pictures to play out.
The two figures of Er'amar and Argan were lifelike miniatures as they presented their ideas side by side in the fire. Er'amar had the attention of the crowd and conducted himself with poise and charisma. He spoke with his whole body; the grand gestures of the young, enthusiastic man awed the spectators.
In contrast, Argan was a large, hairy ursidae who intimidated and scared the crowd with his large frame, claws, and sharp teeth. Every time he tried to imitate Er'amar's grand gestures, the people winced in fear of an attack. Argan stood on his hind legs, nearly half a body taller than the largest man there, and as wide as three combined. Neither the crowd, nor those gathered from the Wizardly Union, seemed inclined to listen to his ideas. Nor did his low, gravelly voice earn their trust.” Pebble gasped in fear several times as the narrative played out in the fire.
“Both wizards went their separate ways to put together their plans for the Union. Months passed as they prepared. Er'amar spent his time with the unicorns in the plains far to the north, but where Argan resided during that time was unknown. Ursidae are extremely difficult to track, even for an eagle. They both slaved at their preparations- Er'amar attempting to make a wand, and Argan working with words. Soon, the time had come, and they appeared before the Wizardly Union in Rowain.
“Er'amar presented first, and dazzled the Union with a wand! He demonstrated how, with sheer desire, or willpower, he could make things occur. He levitated a cup across the room and into his hand with the wand. He constructed a chair out of a stack of wood sitting in the corner of the chamber. Then, to seal his proposal, he lit the chair on fire and while it burned, he roasted a pig over the flames for the feast after the presentations. The pig rotated in midair as the meeting proceeded through the other speakers.
“Th
e final speaker to present his idea before the Union was Argan. He came to the podium with a thick, leather bound book, and at first the officials were interested. However, when they realized that it only had two pages of spoken spells written inside, they frowned and whispered amongst themselves. The Wizardly Union did not take kindly to his haggard appearance or his crude communication skills. His presentation of the magic, however, was every bit as impressive as Er'amar's, but the Union officials did not like that the words he spoke were in an unknown tongue, or that his collection of spells was so incomplete. Argan cited that his gift was new to the world, and he had no one to teach him. In the months they had to prepare, he had muddled out that much on his own.
“The Union did not listen. They refused to hear anything further on spoken spells, and dismissed him from the hall. Before he left the chamber, Argan swore to never take a mate. He would chronicle everything he learned in his life in seclusion, and let his gift be buried with him in the grave. He swore that his gift had greater potential than anything brought forth in the hall by the others. He spoke of a See-er, telling him that his gift would save millions of lives, and that he would see to it that never happened because of their ignorance. They disregarded his threats, and had Er'amar escort him out with his wand. He was angry and heartbroken, and made no attempt to resist them.”
Ero's tale was interrupted by the sound of rustling feathers and the shimmer of the shield at the door. Osric opened his eyes as an eagle swept into the room with a satchel in her beak. She placed it on the floor next to him, and a wonderful aroma of fish and herbs renewed his appetite. The eager looks on his companion's faces told him they felt the same. Osric distributed the food to his friends, while Ero presented them with beverages. He whispered strange words under his breath, and a pitcher containing a red fruit juice and another of rulha, levitated into the air and poured their contents into several steins. Osric welcomed the cup as it floated into his hands, and savored the rich, robust flavor of the steaming, dark colored liquid brewed from the bark of the rulha tree.
The Wand-Maker's Debate: Osric's Wand: Book One Page 11
