Highwater and Glass

The Ashen Feather, Chapter 1 - Oran

On the first day of winter, the Archmage disappeared. And not in a way he had done before, in a plume of smoke or transmogrified into a bumble bee. He was simply gone, with no explanation or message left in his absence. Oran Highwater and Horus Morningshire were apprentices without a master, alone in a tower without supervision.

After the mission in Green Marsh, Oran had a fairly uneventful summer, reading tomes and assisting his mother by acquiring ingredients; rare and long-lasting dyes for her weavings. He kept in touch with Eloise when he could, sending her notes by pigeon about his daily life. The poor girl had to wait for a new knight to become available to continue her training. But, she assured him she would continue to practice in secret with the twin axes he had crafted for her. There was no mention of the necromancer Caona's spirit rising again, and if the Archmage had told the crown about Wyvern Rock's act of war, he kept their response to himself.

In the autumn, the Archmage and Horus journeyed alone to a retreat outside of the village of Plosa and left Oran to his own devices for a few weeks. Horus attempted to make him feel inferior for being the apprentice left behind. However, Oran relished the time to himself. In their absence, he took full advantage of the tower's resources to strengthen his mind and body.

He had noticed changes in his body after turning eighteen. His chest, which had always just been skin upon ribs, began to fill out into rounded muscle. He had taken to a morning routine of press-ups to encourage his changes to continue. When Horus returned, the older boy who had always looked older and stronger, suddenly felt more the same age, or even younger. His body appeared comparatively lithe and delicate. Between Oran's height, build, and fuller beard, he was looking more like a man.

The morning the Archmage disappeared was just like any other day; Oran awakened to the sound of roosters crowing, and began his press-ups with his legs elevated, balancing precariously on a stack of hat boxes. Horus watched him from his bedroom doorway, drinking tea out of a stoneware mug. Horus had formerly been late to rise, preferring to slumber long past the rooster's last crow, but after discovering Oran's morning workout routine, he preferred to wake up to watch and distract Oran with snarky comments.

"You do realize wizardry is an art of mental strength?" Horus chided. "Working those muscles so that you become a hulking brute in some ways benefits my eyes more than it does your body."

"The Archmage has stated advanced spellwork is physically demanding," Oran replied, panting. "I want to be sure my body is up to the challenge."

He finished his set and rocked back to his knees. Sweat ran down his bare chest. The morning sun was casting a beam of light through his bedroom window. Though it was winter, it had been unseasonably warm in Highwater. Horus was staring at him.

"That's it?" Oran asked him, "No shirty retort?"

Horus coughed on his tea. "Not today," he said. He drank from his mug again and departed from the doorway.

After a bath and breakfast, Oran joined Horus in the observatory tower for their scheduled lesson in augury. Only, the Archmage never came. This was unlike him. Once, during an augury lesson, the Archmage had transformed into a snowy owl to make a point about solitary hunter behavior. But he had never begun the lesson as a bird without an announcement first. Nevertheless, Oran looked out the window and searched for a bird with a human mind at its helm. But, alas, beyond the diamond-paned windows, there was none.

The bells in the Highwater chantry rang. The Archmage was officially late to his own lesson. Horus raised an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe he's sick?" Horus shrugged.

"When have you ever known the Archmage to be sick?"

"He sneezed that one time I blew dust off that old tome right in his face..."