Pyrus: Rise Of Darkness

Richard

"Th-thank you," I stutter to them, still getting over the initial shock of what just happened.
"Hey, no problem. Sorry about what we said though. We just figured that, if we could make you mad enough, it might spark your magic," Gale answers. She smiles at me and pats me on the back.
I smile back, and Lilly shrieks, "Oh my centaurs, it's him!" She points at an older gentleman with a staff. He notices us and walks toward me.
"Who is that?" I whisper to Lilly.
"That's Richard, the famous Mage and the creator of the sanctuary!" she whispers back excitedly.
"Hello girls! Finally back from your travels, I see," he says enthusiastically. He turns to me, and I study him. He wears long, red robe with leather slippers. He carries an intricate staff in one hand, and a harness in the other. His hair is long and light grey and he has an extraordinarily long beard and a kind face. His eyes, though, are even more curious than Gale's or Lilly's. They appear to actually be four different colours. One quarter looks like Gale's eyes, another like Lilly's, but the other two sections of each iris are different. One is orange, red, and yellow and flickers and crackles, like fire. The other corner is an incredible shade of brown, with a golden hint to it. It doesn't seem to do anything strange at first, but upon closer inspection I can see it almost crumbling. Strange.
"And who might you be?" he asks. "Obviously you are a sorcerer, cutoes to Gale and Lilly for getting you here, but what is your name?" He chuckles. Weird.
"I'm James," I answer skeptically.
"Pleased to meet you, James," he replies cheerfully, holding out a wrinkled hand that I shake. "And just what kind of magic do you use?"
I am puzzled. "What kind of magic..." I repeat, dumbfounded.
"Fire," Lilly calls out from behind me. "He is a fire magic, and I think the one we were suppose to find." More riddles. Great.
"I see," the Mage mumbles into his beard. His face goes through a variety of expressions. Curiosity. Fear. Relaxation. Thoughtfulness. Relief. "Well, James," he announces, suddenly out of his trance. "Welcome to the sanctuary."
I look around. It's incredible. Inside the dank, old wall is a city thriving with life. Children of all ages run through the cobble streets. Beautiful wooden houses with straw roofs line the roads. But at the centre is something more incredible than anything I'd ever seen before. I look up and gasp, awed. A giant tower made of white stone stands tall against the morning sun. It has a red slate roof, which a similarly coloured dragon lies on, basking in the sun.
A hand clamps around my shoulder. I jump slightly, startled. "That there, Gregory, is my tower, where I live and work. An energy orb at the top, guarded by my trusted friend Vulcan, powers the city and it's walls," Richard explains. Peering up I can see a small, blue sphere levitated above the tower.
"Incredible," I squeak, my voice gone, blown away, so to speak.
Richard claps his hands together and I snap back into reality. "Come, come," he ushers. "You must have questions." He's right. I was so impressed, I'd completely forgotten. Then to Lilly and Gale he says "Breakfast is being served in the mess hall. Tell Gaia to give you two extras. You must be famished." They nod enthusiastically and dash of to a long building to my right.
"We'll eat while we talk, don't worry," he assures. We walk past many trees, homes, and other people and enter the tower. Inside, I look around. It's incredible. The walls are made of polished oak, and there is a spiral staircase leading to the tower's top. I look up. There are many platforms and rooms above me. My mouth drops open.
Richard chuckles. "Never fear, we aren't climbing up that high. In fact, we'll just be going to the room on your left. My office," he assures, guiding me toward a candlelit room with an oak desk and three very comfy chairs.
"Please. Take a seat," Richard insists. I do.
"So. Why am I here?" I question.
"Well, if you mean here specifically, so we can talk," he jokes. "But I doubt that's what you mean. Get comfortable, because I'm going to have to take you back a few years, to when I was a small child.
"See, for longer than anyone can remember, magic was illegal, with a penalty of death. Thousands of witches and wizards, sorcerers and sorceresses, had been tried and found guilty. But it was especially hard for us elemental sorcerers," he goes on, pausing at my quizzical look.
"What's an elemental sorcerer?" I ask.
"I'll get to that, my boy, rest assure," Richard says. "Now, as I was saying, because of our marks, we were easy to spot. I was able to escape and run. For years I ran, a fugitive, known by none, wanted by less. Until one day, when I met a beautiful sorceress." His eyes get a misty, sad, thoughtful look to them. "She was incredible. We fell in love, and even 'married' and stayed in a small town. But we had made a huge mistake.
"One night, soldiers came running into the town, looking for us. Despite our best efforts, we were subdued. On our return trip, we attempted an escape. We suddenly ran, bolted into the woods. They fired at us with their bows, and we both took hits. They were almost upon us. She-she realized, only one of us could walk away from this." His voice began cracking. "Her injuries were worse than mine, and in a last attempt to allow me to live, she charged the soldiers head on. They impaled her, and I was able to escape.
"I built this place so that nothing like that would ever happen again," he says, pulling himself together. "That is why you are here. So that that does not happen to you."
I bite my lip, not knowing what to say. "So," I begin. "How did you know I was out there?"
He smiled. "Well, it is a bit complicated. I think I'll start by telling you what an elemental sorcerer is. It is a sorcerer that harnesses their power from one of the four elements, via their magic marks," he explains. I point to one of mine. "Yes, those. If you had one, you had magic, but if you had two, it was twice as good, as you had two connections.
"Elemental sorcerers are the most powerful type of magician there is, and so they were a top priority for witch-hunters. And so they ruthlessly killed them off, especially those of fire magic, your magic."
"But why?" I ask, bewildered.
"Well, they believed that the fire magic was the most dangerous of them all," he answers.
"Was it?"
"I wouldn't know," he replies, but I can tell he wasn't telling me something.
"So then what?"
"Well, they basically killed all the fire magicians," he continues, expression grim. "But the we heard rumours of a last fire sorcerer on the run somewhere, I sent my sorcerers and sorceresses to find you. And thank goodness they did."
I nod. "Agreed."
There is an awkward silence that I breaking by asking, "So I'm technically the last person with fire magic, then?"
He shakes his head. "No. One of two. I am trained in all four types. However, you are the last pure fire sorcerer, and a double mark at that. You are hence much more skilled in the fire field than me."
"No way! I can't even cast spells, except when I'm mad beyond belief!" I exclaim.
"Ah," he muses. "I was wondering how the girls got you in. Well, that feeling you had is called your awakening. It happens naturally to every element sorcerer in time, but can be instantly activated through extreme emotion. Now that you have been awoken, you can soon connect to the magical field, which will allow you to cast spells at will. It is just a matter of learning and perfecting them."
"Sweet," I comment.
Richard glances at the old grandfather clock. "Oh dear me, I'm afraid we'll have to cut this conversation short. I just remembered, I have a meeting right now. Terribly sorry. If you want breakfast, my dining room is on the second floor, or you can head to the mess hall and catch up with Lilly and Gale if you'd prefer."
"Ok. Thanks for chatting," I call out as he rushes out of the tower, but I don't think he heard me. I decide to go find the two girls.