[Altamira] Rindley's training
Rindley sat crossed-legged in the grass, both arms outstretched and fingers pointing forwards, staring intently at a rock the size of a brick. Slowly and steadily he released his magical energy through his left arm and towards the rock. He could feel its flow, it was warm and pleasant; like a breeze on a summer's day. The energy left his fingertips and began to surround the rock he was staring at. Invisible to everyone else; but he could see it, simply because it belonged to him. Rindley then lifted his arm upwards. The rock followed his movements and it rose into the air and stopped about a foot in the air. It was time for the hard part.
Keeping arm and rock suspended, Rindley turned his head and other arm to the right to face another rock. Immediately Rindley felt the affects of his shift in concentration. The magic power flowing through his left arm flickered and the rock dropped six inches. With an effort of mental co-ordination Rindley re-established the flow of magical power and the rock rose back to its original position. Attempting to repeat the process Rindley tried to send his magical energy through his other arm, and failed.
Just as he tried, the flow from his other arm ceased completely, and the rock fell to the floor with a dull thud leaving a small dent in the grass. A disappointed sigh came from Rindley’s mouth, who rearranged his position and pushed himself up of the ground. Two years he’d been working on kinetic based magic and in two years, in his own eyes at least, he hadn’t got very far. It was a slow process of endless practice, continually working on lifting and moving something higher, heavier, or faster. Despite Scantred’s telling him that he would not be able to do such a feat as moving two objects at a time Rindley had gone and tried anyway. It felt to him that Scantred was taking things far too slowly; it took two years for Scantred to teach him to master a basic magic missile. Scantred seemed far more eager to teach him more mundane things, such as history, geography, maths, science and even armed combat, but magic was something taught rarely and only with much in the way of nagging and persuasion.
Regardless of Rindley’s displeasure at the emphasis of the syllabus he had come to grow fond of and even love the old man. During tutoring he was strict and effective, during recreation he was a jolly man who found happiness in almost everything around him. What was strange though was the mask he put on in front of other people, when he would become bitter and cranky. Though he often wondered at his teacher’s odd behaviour he never sought to ask, thinking it rude.
With these thoughts running through his head, Rindley headed towards his boat, pulled ashore on the tiny island he was on. This island had become a place of refuge and contemplation for Rindley. All that was on it was grass and a single palm tree. It was so small that no one ever needed to go anywhere near it, not being more than five meters in diameter. Rindley would often go there to think over his lessons, practise magic, or just lie on his back and look at the clouds with a fishing line tied to his toe. The boat he owned was a small sail boat; a gift from his father. Nothing special to look at, but it did the job it was designed for and Rindley was proud of it. With a shove, he pushed the boat back into the ocean; his feet splashed in the water and clambered inside. With a strong breeze behind him, he made his way back to Pawprint Island.
As the island came into view Rindley was surprised to see Scantred waiting for him on edge of the island; he was supposed to be out shopping. What was the old man up to now? He thought of the various crackpot scenarios which the Scantred could and would likely do. Something was not right; it never was when Scantred, the rumoured great sorcerer, did something out of the ordinary. Not doing something he said he would do was very out of the ordinary. With a splash and a useless attempt by the sea to hamper his movements, Rindley dragged the boat on shore as well trying to give Scantred which hope he conveyed mild annoyance. Scantred himself looked rather…dismal. His whole body hung limp, like he was being up by a piece of string; even his beard visibly drooped.
“What’s got you looking so dismal you old codger?” Rindley asked sympathetically. Scantred sighed and drooped down even further. If he got any limper his beard would touch the floor. Something was clearly very very wrong and Rindley was getting worried.
“I’m sorry my boy,” the old man uttered, his usually jovial voice sounded very wet.
“For what?” Curiosity now came and sat itself down next to Worry in the forefront of his mind.
“For lying to you; I am not the great sorcerer you think I am.”
“You’re what!”
“It is true that I am the descendent of a sage and I do hold a very small amount of power. But being the descendent of a sage does not guarantee magical power. Only the chosen ones are given that power from the gods. That is why I have been slow to teach you magic. In a test of magical strength between you and me, you would win.” Rindley at this point tried to say something, but Scantred continued. ‘I am sure that it is not due to me but your own talent that you have advanced as far as you have.”
“W-Wait so your saying you can’t actually do magic? After all these years and you actually can’t do magic? So how in Din’s name have you been managing to teach me?”
“Luck and your talent; but don’t worry I have arranged for a new teacher. I have heard of a place called ‘The Dome’ I was contacted telepathically by one of the teachers who said they wanted to teach you.”
“‘The Dome?’ What’s ‘The Dome’?”
“I’m not exactly sure but you can get a real magic teacher their so now you must come with me.” Any questions were silence, so Rindley begrudgingly followed Scantred to the other side of the island; dragging his white wood staff behind him.
On the other side of the island there was a wooden door with a brass handle. Nothing around it just a door stood up in the middle of the grass. Rindley started to run to the door and had just gone past Scantred when a sharp pain exploded at the back of his head. And all went black.
Last edited by Peteman; 02-13-2008 at 04:25 PM..