Chapter 5

43 1 0
                                    

"Your son is gifted. More gifted than I could ever imagine."

Four-year old Liinken was listening to his parents' conversation in the other room, hiding behind the door frame leading to the other room. This tall man in ornate, flowing purple robes with a long white beard had called upon his parents. His father had addressed him as "Master", so Liinken deduced that he was a magician of great prestige, but he had never seen him before. The man had sharp features, with a long, pointed nose and cold, piercing blue eyes. He made Liinken uneasy, and did not want to be near him, but his curiosity would not allow him to miss the conversation between this man and his parents, so he kept out of sight.

"Thank you, master," said his father proudly. "Yea, Liinken has shown great prowess in his abilities. He has already read most of the books in the library, and beseeches us to buy him more each day. Truely, he will be most welcome at the Magicians' Academy."

"Yea, I do believe he will be," said the Master. "But prithee, I must ask thee to reconsider that decision."

"I beg thine pardon?" Said Liinken's mother. "But the Magician's Academy is already aware of him, and the Headmaster is most eager to -"

"His talents will be wasted there," the master interrupted impatiently. "Perhaps he will learn to be a good magician, one that is admired and respected by the licentious nobility, but he is destined for more than that."

"What art thou saying?" Asked his father, tilting his head in confusion.

"I pray, allow me to teach the boy," said the master. "Let him come learn at my home in Skhar Tower. He will receive the best tutelage, so much so that he will surpass the....pretenders at the Academy."

His parents were silent for a moment. "Pray, tell me," Liinken's father said, breaking the silence. "Were ye not once upon the Council of Masters at the Academy."

The man paused. "I was," he affirmed.

"And if my memory serves me," Liinken's father continued. "Ye were cast out for thine thoughts on the Dead Arts, as well as the Legends of the Dracokin?"

"They are not legends," said the man defensively. "And the Council were foolish and short-sighted."

"Nevertheless, Liinken is my son," said his father. "The boy will go to the Academy, where I am sure that he will receive the best education that can be offered."

"Be reasonable, sir-"

"Nay," said Liinken's father firmly. "I believe we have entertained thine prattle long enough. Ye may take thine leave."

The man cast a venomous look at Liinken's parents before standing. "Fare thee well," he said before bowing. As he turned, he looked towards the direction where Liinken was hiding, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Liinken felt as if he had turned to stone at the man's gaze, fear creeping from his bowels into his heart. The man said nothing, but turned on his heel and left, but the feeling of dread and fear remained with Liinken.

Something told him that he would be seeing that man again.







Liinken's head felt as if it was splitting open. He groaned groggily as he began to stir. The world around him was shaking, and he could hear the sound of voices around him. As he began to come to his senses, he realized that he was in a covered wagon, surrounded by various boxes, barrels and other supplies. He had a blanket over him and a cool cloth on his forehead, with his head resting upon something soft and warm.

"Oh, thank the gods, ye are awake!"

Liinken looked up to see that he wasn't alone. Lorrea was looking down at him, his head resting in her lap. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying, but she was smiling happily at him as he rose.

The McCloud HouseWhere stories live. Discover now