Chapter 36-Nigellus
The next morning, the brothers awoke early; each found a new commitment in themselves to go to work. They went downstairs and found Gregory sipping from a cup and leaning forward on Aristotle’s table. He greeted them with a short wave of his hand; he looked a little abnormal but all in all fine. Next to him sat André, and next to him-sat a man whom they had never seen.
His clothing looked like it would not have been out of place in the Roman Senate two thousand years before. He was wearing a bright red toga, it resembled the one Xenophon wore, but it was held together by a great golden clasp on the right shoulder. Ancient sandals covered two old grisly feet. The man looked ancient. Short, thin wisps of white hair clustered in clumps on his wrinkled head. A long gray beard descended from a scarred face, tapering at the end in a slight knot. In his left hand he held what looked like a gnarled branch of a redwood tree, if it hadn’t been for the shining red stone set in the middle of the staff, the twins would have mistaken it for a walking stick.
Everything about the old man’s appearance struck the twins as being ancient, yet well kept. His scars glistened like silver on his face, as though he kept them well polished. Even his worn out sandals had a certain shine to them, but the thing that stuck out to the brothers the most was the old man’s eyes.
They were the same glittering silver as his face, but the whites outside of them had a pale, somewhat unhealthy color, yet there was something about those eyes. It was like they held a mystery deep within their depths, as though some untold tale of sadness was hidden within their depths. As the brothers approached the table, André spoke:
“This-my sons,” he indicated the old man, “is Marius Nigellus, he is perhaps the greatest conjurer trainer to ever live-” he smiled and looked at Irgen, “his specialty is fire. Treat him with respect, and you will learn how to work wonders. Treat him with disdain, and… Well you’ll find out.” Irgen shuddered as he stared into the sad icy depths of Nigellus’ eyes.
After the introduction, Irgen and Idus cautiously approached Nigellus. Idus’ voice rang out uncertainly in Irgen’s mind.
“Ummm, well you’re the fire mage. Don’t you think you should go first?” Irgen turned just in time to see Idus’ cheeks twitch as he tried to hold back a smile. Irgen walked forward nervously, before stopping by the table. He shifted uneasily before the unwavering glance of the old man. When he spoke, his voice sounded shaky, timid, and infinitesimally small.
“My name is Irgen--” The old man interrupted him before he could continue. His voice was soft, deep, and slow like some unsung melody playing out in his resounding whisper.
“Yes-I know who you are. There is no need to explain, as for me, I am honored to be here to teach the two of you. It was a long journey, and I hope that it will be worth my while.” As he said this Idus’ voice came once again into Irgen’s head:
“A long journey? I thought all mages could teleport from place to place in quick succession?” Irgen responded softly.
“Not all journeys deal with distance.” Irgen’s words surprised even himself he didn’t know why he said that, but it made sense to him. After all the old man probably had to give up a lot to come teach the two of them, his journey to the Citadel probably was-a long one.
“Be that as it may, he had better not be a slave worker like Gregory.” Irgen was about to reply, but then a voice came into both of their heads.
“Oh don’t worry…I’m worse!” The twins looked up to see Marius give them a wink. They looked at each other with confounded expressions. He knew what they were thinking? How was that possible? Whatever the answer was, they never found time to ask, for just then their father spoke again.
“Well come sit down. Eat breakfast, and we’ll get started shall we?” The twins, without looking at each other, obediently sat down at the table, where food materialized. It was wonderful. In front of them, they found sausage, bacon, eggs, and light fluffy pancakes, nicely rolled crepes, soft French toast, and mouthwatering orange juice, the like of which they had never tasted before.
After breakfast they were about to go outside when Thomas wandered into the room from upstairs. He was still dressed in his pajamas, and it looked as though no one else in the room, besides the twins, were surprised to see him. André spoke again:
“Tom’s the one who brought Marius here. He had a very difficult journey, so I think he’ll--”
“—Why was it so difficult father?” Irgen asked timidly and yet quickly so that he could get his question in this time.
“It was difficult…Because we did not know exactly where to start looking. It took some time for both of us to find the ancient cities of Boanerges and Menoeceus, both of us found our respective cities, but neither of us were accepted with open arms. Quite the contrary really, since I am the head of the Water clan, and Tom’s the head of the Knights. Fire and Air don’t like us very much, so for Marius to be here on his own free will is quite exciting. He is a great trainer, and he gave up much to be here with the two of you. Many of his very people threatened to disown him, but…in spite of that fact, he still came. And since he has much to teach you, shall we begin?” The twins nodded, finally understanding where their father had been and why Marius’ presence was so important.
Their father led the way out onto the lawn outside. The sun was just beginning to peak over the massive castle wall. The dim shining rays lit up the cobblestone street in an eerie orange glow. The cold morning chill filled their breasts with inexplicable joy, a feeling which was cut short as their father stopped and turned around. He did not smile and the twins knew that this was it, they were about to begin their real training.
The Brothers Tuerl & The Staffs of Zeus Page 37
