Chapter Two

As we started along the winding road that passes for a road between Vintenastru and Juten, I remained alert and focused. In these Dark times, it is exceedingly important to maintain caution and remain vigilant against any and all possible danger. As my sense is smell is particularly heightened, I periodically inhaled deeply, focusing in on smells that I knew to be foreign to the forest. As time passed, I visibly noticed my young student become more and more anxious, the slightest sound seeming to startle him. the further we went, the more anxious he appeared, and so my eyebrow unconsciously arched higher and higher."Calm yourself. Nothing in these woods poses a threat to us. I highly doubt we would even need medicine for what we might encounter within these woods. I assure you, we are as safe as is possible." For his part, he contorted his face into what might have passed for a smile if it were not accompanied by a nervous flick of his eyes to and fro. Inwardly, I bemoaned the fate of Humanity if this was what the Darkness had turned them into when it had first emerged long ago. "You seem to doubt both the Word and ability of your Master. Quite an unfortunate trait in one who wishes to learn." "It is not that I doubt you, Master. More.... My own poor talents." "Ah, self doubt. One of the deadliest of all vices. Do not doubt your abilities, Young One. Doing so only serves to weaken them. If it aids in alleviating your anxiety, I shall begin instructing you in the basics of defensive magick." At this, his earlier nervousness seemed to dissipate, replaced by a rather large smile. "Do you truly mean it?""If I did not mean it, I would not have said it. I believe we would best be served by beginning with the basic defense shield. Mind you, it only protects attacks from one direction, but it is an excellent starting point nonetheless." He immediately bounded into a standard ready position, feet straight forward and shoulder width apart, while his hands were raised palm outwards at the level of his his belt line. He continued to have a rather large smile covering much of his face, his excitement evident. "Focus your energy into a shield in front of you, focusing on that image in your mind as you allow your energies to build. The image of the shield will add strength to your working, and allow you to think of it far easier. When you begin to feel the strain in your hands, you must release it, channeling into the chosen shape." "Is there any incantation," he asked, eyes gleaming with youthful exuberance. "While certain practitioners use catalyst words to trigger the desired effect, magick is most certainly not about words. It is about feeling the energy flow around you, through you, ancient and primal, far older than even myself. Embrace it, let it channel around you, feel it, breathe it in. Only then will you truly be able to master the highest of spells." As he readied himself, I gathered a few pebbles and several cones from the trees surrounding us. With a slight grunt, he raised his working in front of himself. I sent one of the pebbles at his shield, propelling it slightly with magick. the instant the pebble struck the shield, the working fell apart, appearing as strands of mist, gently floating to the ground before slowly dissipating. The look in his eyes was one of pure disappointment, and I felt a surge of compassion for this young man, giving him a small smile as a means of encouragement. I knew all too well how it felt to fail at even the most basic magick, and I had seen the same look in my own eyes a great number of times, particularly at his age. When I asked him if he wished ot try again, his answer was an almost instantaneous yes. His next shield withstood three pebbles at once before collapsing. All in all, he was making remarkable progress. Slowly, the strength of his barriers improved, and he grew more confident with each object deflected. Eventually, he reached the point where he could block a knife thrust, and I called him to a halt, noticing his obvious air of excited fatigue. He stood there exultant, the sweat pouring off of him as he drew the last shield back into himself, to conserve its energy until later.

We spent the next day in the same area of the forest, continuing my student's defensive training. As the day turned to twilight, my student began to master more advanced techniques, including being able to shield himself in multiple directions. I was quite pleased with my student's rapid understanding, for it was far better than my own beginning forays into defensive magick. I still recall being struck with rather large rocks, and the numerous holes in the walls from my repeated attempts to blast them away, rather than deflecting them as I was instructed to do. However, my own struggles were quite the opposite of my student's. Where he struggles with gaining the strength necessary to use his knowledge, I have always struggled to control my own impressive strength.

As we made camp, I had a strong impression my young friend wished to speak somewhat badly. Smiling gently, I turned my attention upon him and preceded to wait. The wait was to be a short one, as he was truly desperate to speak. "Master, you have spoken much on a great deal of subjects, but you have never spoken about your experiences when you were young." "That, young one, is a subject I do not have much joy in remembering. Perhaps when you hold the wisdom to understand and view my history impartially. Only then shall you know my past." "I understand. Forgive me for bringing up the pain of the past." "There is nothing to forgive. The pain of the past is unknowable to one who was not there." He gave me a long look, but apparently decided not to force the issue. I smiled much wider, knowing just how well self-restraint would serve him throughout his life.

As I needed far less rest than my student, I took up the mantle of attending to the duty of keeping watch over camp. Despite the relative peace I had experienced within these woods, I had begun to sense a change in the way of things. There was a growing concern in my periphery, though I did not know from whence it stemmed. I scanned the darkness, however my eye sight was only minimally better than a normal person, so I closed my eyes and called upon my strongest sensory organ: my nose. I crouched near the fire for a lengthy time before I noticed the quick, stealthy approach of a group of foul-smelling individuals. I allowed them to approach quite near, and as they entered the ring of light caused by the fire, I quickly took their measure. My eyes carefully swept their persons, quickly noting the rusty weapons and the shabby, patchwork armor they wore. It was obvious that they were either starving refugees of a conflict or highly inefficient bandits. Either way, due to the fact that they had spotted us, and because individuals such as these seemed to pose no threat to us, I gave them my standard greeting in an unknown situation like this.

"Welcome, fellow travelers. We would extend our hospitality if you would do us the honor of sharing it." In a very short time, their expressions leaped rapidly from surprise, to fear, to suspicion; and I began to understand this paltry band more than I had. These men were neither refugees nor criminals, there were something far more pitiable. These men had known the true oppression that shows through in one half of the human spectrum. I saw their malnourished state, and the scars upon their wrists, necks and ankles, scars I could easily identify and understand. These men had been treated cruelly for the duration of their lives, and as such they had no idea how to respond to even the most basic of kindnesses. I felt myself filled with great pity and sadness for these individuals and for what I knew would inevitably come, wishing for a different solution. These were not villainous men, merely starving men who had never known trust of strangers, who fled from their cruel oppressors in a bid to survive. I understood them far too well, after my own experiences with captivity and the most barbaric forms of torture. The greatest tragedy is that these are prevalent in far too many societies and races, and I felt great dread in knowing that these would not be the last such refugees.

Their expressions changed once more, becoming grim and desperate as their hands took up weapons. With much deliberation and sadness, I drew my own blade, speaking one last sentiment towards them before battle. "I am truly sorry for what must happen next. I shall do my best to ease your passing." These men had more honor than a great many I have met, for they halted their attack until I was through speaking. Though I knew them to be untrained, they showed a true spirit in both the ferocity of their attackand in their stalwart determination to survive and be free. As Rodrick and I battled them, and as each of them fell in turn, I eased their minds of the horrors that they had seen and endured, giving to them as much peace as I could in the short time possible. When the last one fell, he had a smile upon his face, and I knew it was his first in many a long year.