[SleepingDragon]: 268.The Staff of Illidon.Chapter Two- Wizard

Chapter Two- Wizard

The day started like any other for William Statesboro. He rose early, had tea by the hearth and bathed himself before leaving his small dwelling on Glendale’s south end to go and study with the wizard. He waved or nodded at the occasional passerby as he traversed the dusty path through the dale. All of them knew him and he them. There was Rosy Peters working in her garden, and Denny Hasbaro on his way to open the Cartwright shop. There was the smithy, Ted Wilkins, and the Furrier Andy Pence. Each greeted him in kind, as he went along his way.

Now in his early twenties, William had been apprentice to Mordic for seven years. While Mordic assured him that one day he would call himself ‘wizard’, William did not see it. Try as he would, his powers were still modest. Yes, he could command the elements enough to start a fire for cooking or put it out again with water. He could summon a trapvine from the earth and ensnare a rabbit with it or levitate a bowl from the cupboard in his small dwelling to his table. He did well enough entertaining or frightening the locals if he so chose. But with all his efforts, he could not summon the type of power needed to help in the war.

Along the way, he heard the criers spreading the morning news. The war was not going well. Ogeon was losing ground to the Calazarians. It was much the same as the news of yesterday, only worse. Wait! Here was something new. “Two ruffians jailed after row at Wild Boar! Establishment closed for repairs!”

The Wild Boar was a rough place any night. It must have been something quite out of the ordinary for them to be jailed, and for the tavern to be so busted up. William wanted to know more. He approached the crier for information.

“What of these two ruffians, friend?” He asked. “Tell me more.”

“It was a mercenary and his gal friend, an elf woman.” The crier told him. “Really tore the place up. Had the locals in a real uproar. Took on the lot of em’ they did.”

“What will become of them, I wonder?” William mused.

“Aye, I’ll wager they don’t see the outside of Halidon’s dungeon for a year or more after that.” Replied the crier. “Chancellor is to hear their case at first light in three days.”

“Thank you friend.”

William continued up the path toward Mordic’s, pondering the news. What was a mercenary doing in Glendale, or an elf woman for that matter? It intrigued him more than a little. Still thinking about the town’s odd pair of visitors, he quickened his pace. He would be late for his studies if he did not hurry. He tried to put it out of his mind.

He passed the old mill and then took the path to the right. No one ever took the path to the left, which led to the mountain cavern. It was a well known fact that any who did, would not be seen again in the dale. Aside from the threat of goblins and other mountain dwellers, the cavern led underground to the ancient ruins of Illidon. Whatever secret the ruins held was guarded by something formidable indeed.

William clambered his slender frame up the rocky slope in front of the wizard’s hut, his blond, curly hair blowing in the morning wind. He turned about on the threshold and looked over the dale. Would war soon visit this peaceful village? What would become of its people? Sure, the place had its share of roughnecks, but they were all good folk for the most part. He had a hard time imagining any of them as slaves to the Calazarians. If only there were something he could do.

William entered the hut, expecting to find Mordic at the table as he would any other day, but it was not so. The table was piled with books, some open. Upon the table were candles burnt near to stumps, though still lit. While embers glowed upon the hearth, there was no fire. It had not been tended in hours. William peered around the dimly lit room, curious.

“Master?” he probed. Perhaps Mordic yet slept, though it would be unlike him.

“Come here my boy.” Came a faint answer from behind a beaded curtain that divided the room. William pushed his way through to the back and found the wizard lying upon the bed. He appeared ill. “Come closer.”

“Master, you ail.” Spoke William, concerned. “I shall fetch the healer.”

“He has been and gone.” Mordic croaked. “Sit. We must talk.”

William sat upon the woven rug next to the wizard’s pallet and hearkened to his master.

“Boy,” The wizard began. “You have become a man, and I name you now ‘wizard’.”

“But master,” William argued respectfully. “My studies are not complete. And my powers. They are yet too weak.”

“Your powers will grow as need sees fit, young William.” The wizard said earnestly. “Indeed they must, for there is something you must do.”

“Master, I do not understand.” William said, confused.

“William, my boy,” the wizard looked into his eyes. “I ail, as you have said, and will not see another sunrise. Ogeon is in peril, and something must be done. It is now upon you to do what I cannot. Hope lies in the ruins that lie beneath the vale. The elemental staff must be retrieved.”

“Elemental staff? You mean…?”

“You must take the path into the mountain cavern and return with the Staff of Illidon.” The wizard gripped William’s hand tightly as he spoke the words. “War is upon the land and it moves closer to us each day. The staff may be the only hope for Ogeon. At all costs, the Calazarians must not come to find it.”

“You want me to venture into the ruins of Illidon?” William was stunned. “Alone?”

“You must venture in, but you need not go alone.” The wizard said. “There is gold in the chest behind you. Take it, for I shall not need it. Hire what brave souls will go with you and enter therein together.”

“But master, even if I retrieve the staff and survive the perils below, who is there that can wield it, if you are to be gone?”

“Cross bridges when you come to them, young William.” The wizard admonished.
William was astounded. None had ever returned from the ruins of Illidon in all the history of Glendale. How was he to accomplish this? Wizard? He was not a wizard. He was a mere apprentice who had been handed a title prematurely. He was not ready for a task of this magnitude.

“Master, I fear I am not ready to face something such as this.” He said honestly.

“Off course you fear.” Mordic said. “This is natural. But more than your own demise, you should fear what may happen if you do not succeed. Fear the bondage that the Calazarians will bring. Fear the death of all who you have come to know. There is no real choice, young William. You must do this.”

“Very well then master.” William acquiesced. “I shall do my best.”

“You shall do well.” Mordic smiled.

The wizard closed his eyes then and he did not open them for the rest of that day. William sat with him quietly, moving only long enough to get food or drink when he needed. At last, when evening came, Mordic’s shallow breathing ceased all together.

William sat and wept for a time, then, gathering his courage, he went to the back of the dwelling and built up a funeral pyre, for so were the wishes of the wizard. Using a levitation spell, he moved the empty shell that was Mordic atop the pile of dry branches and set it ablaze.

“Master, friend, mentor.” He spoke to the night. “I shall not fail you.”