The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 3: The Slave

A timid knock sounded at the door.

Tia stiffened as the Master slipped by and, without a word, swept the front door open. She fought the urge to turn and stare with curiosity. Instead, she calmly placed the utensils in their proper places. Mommu laid with care the basket of hard bread in the middle, next to the bowls of broth, and stepped back, hanging his head quietly. Tia joined him, also staring down at the freshly dusted stone floor.

“My dear boy,” the Master’s kind voice said. “Do come in. We have just prepared dinner.”

“You are very kind, sir,” murmured the boy. His voice was husky as though he hadn’t used it for many years, but there was an underlying timbre to it. Mommu nudged Tia: she had been sucking her cheeks with burning curiosity for the past five minutes and her impatience was beginning to show. She sucked in a breath to calm herself and bared her teeth pointedly at her comrade.

She was surprised to not hear a rustle of cloak. She peeped at him through her eyelashes and saw tattered, brown villagers’ clothing too large for a skinny frame. Master had never invited street urchins home for dinner before. She looked away again.

“Please be seated, my friend,” said Master Anu. The newcomer pulled out a chair, knocking a leg against the stone floor once before sitting down hastily. “These are my apprentices, Mommu and Tiamat.”

“Grace be with you,” they said together. The boy didn’t respond.

They waited until the Master sat down before they took their seats at the table. Tia risked another look at the guest. He had long, dirty hair that covered his eyes and half of his face so it was difficult to make out his features, reminding Tia of the baker’s dirty shaggy dog. His sleeves hung like holed curtains and he had callused hands and trembling fingers. If he wasn’t so skinny, he could perhaps have worked on the docks, rough and dusty.

“Grace be with you,” the Master said in agreement. He passed the bread around and together they ate. Tia crossed and uncrossed her legs beneath the table impatiently, although she was careful to keep her face stoic and calm. She lowered her head as she bit into her cheese, listening to the Master’s polite conversation with Mommu.

“It is the morrow that you begin your Rathian lessons, is it not, Mommu?”

“Yes, Master,” the boy replied, smiling. “Mister Asaru has kindly accepted me as one of his students in return for a Hearing, so that he may know when to sow his seeds.”

“As long as you keep up with your Casting studies, I am happy with your pursuits.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I do not see why you would want to learn a dialect nobody speaks,” Tia objected. Mommu said nothing. “And how come I cannot follow you into Capital, Master, in my free time? I keep up with my studies.”

She could almost hear the sigh in her Master’s heart. She couldn’t help it; she’d wanted to travel and see the world so much. Being her Master’s apprentice was a great honour, but for the past ten years since she’d started learning Wind magic, she had never left Mooncliffe. In fact, she had never left Mooncliffe in her life. Hearing the Master’s tales of travel and his summons to exotic, far-off lands was exciting and alluring and she was growing tired and bored by the city. Despite Master’s insistence of her staying inside the house, she had snuck out more often than she should; and she knew that. She wasn’t fully satiated by what Mooncliffe had to offer. No, there must be something greater out there for her.

“One day when you are no longer my pupil, Tiamat,” he said with finality, “then you may choose your own paths. Until that point, I would rather you learn from my mistakes than make your own. You are still a child.”