Post by madskillsmike on Apr 25, 2006 11:20:10 GMT -5
Chapter one
I was no different than any other child growing up in a free family. My mother and father had a bakery, wich supplied quite a few of the slave-driven farms in the nearby countryside. We were not wealthy by any means, but we had four slaves to manage the quick rate of production required when selling goods to the slavekeepers of the Red Wizards. As for quality the wizards didn't care as long as it didn't make the slaves sick and made them unable to work. Growing up I had little in the ways of luxury, we could have fish or meat now and then to supplement the bread and fruit and I had good clothes, nothing more. Before each dinner, my father used to thank the Zulkirate for allowing us to live as free Thayans and protecting our border. It was almost like a prayer to a god, I recall. He was a true Thayan. It was not until later I realized how deep his patriotism truly was.
The sun was blazing and a soft wind swept across the plains, stirring up some dust when it swept through the windows of our house. At that day, my fourteenth birthday, a stranger came to visit our home. He came walking into our kitchen, wearing a red robe with a deep hood and demanded to speak with Razoul, my father. In a few moments he appeared, leaving a full sack of flour on the floor in his hurry. Father bowed his head and the stranger pulled back his hood to reveal his face. His head was shaved with perfectionism, not a strand of hair or any wound from a razor ruined it. However my eyes were drawn to the obscure symbols that covered much of his skin. That was when I realized the man was a Red Wizard, and immediatly fell to my knees. The man paid no attention at the moment, but instead took a seat at our dinner table and motioned for my father to do likewise. When I followed them, my father looked into my eyes and silently made the word "Go away". I had not ever seen him so sincere, so I took a seat on a bench by the large oven instad. The Red Wizard spoke to my father, too quiet for me to hear, but I noticed that my father took a bag and shoved it over the table to the tattooe'd mage. Shortly thereafter, the mage handed my father a scroll. They exchanged some final words and the Red Wizard rose up from the table and headed my way. Without looking directly at me, he said "Your father has bought you a place with me as my apprentice. It is a great honor. You have an hour to say your farewells."
So I did, the sadness of leaving my family making way for the feeling of being chosen for greatness.
I was no different than any other child growing up in a free family. My mother and father had a bakery, wich supplied quite a few of the slave-driven farms in the nearby countryside. We were not wealthy by any means, but we had four slaves to manage the quick rate of production required when selling goods to the slavekeepers of the Red Wizards. As for quality the wizards didn't care as long as it didn't make the slaves sick and made them unable to work. Growing up I had little in the ways of luxury, we could have fish or meat now and then to supplement the bread and fruit and I had good clothes, nothing more. Before each dinner, my father used to thank the Zulkirate for allowing us to live as free Thayans and protecting our border. It was almost like a prayer to a god, I recall. He was a true Thayan. It was not until later I realized how deep his patriotism truly was.
The sun was blazing and a soft wind swept across the plains, stirring up some dust when it swept through the windows of our house. At that day, my fourteenth birthday, a stranger came to visit our home. He came walking into our kitchen, wearing a red robe with a deep hood and demanded to speak with Razoul, my father. In a few moments he appeared, leaving a full sack of flour on the floor in his hurry. Father bowed his head and the stranger pulled back his hood to reveal his face. His head was shaved with perfectionism, not a strand of hair or any wound from a razor ruined it. However my eyes were drawn to the obscure symbols that covered much of his skin. That was when I realized the man was a Red Wizard, and immediatly fell to my knees. The man paid no attention at the moment, but instead took a seat at our dinner table and motioned for my father to do likewise. When I followed them, my father looked into my eyes and silently made the word "Go away". I had not ever seen him so sincere, so I took a seat on a bench by the large oven instad. The Red Wizard spoke to my father, too quiet for me to hear, but I noticed that my father took a bag and shoved it over the table to the tattooe'd mage. Shortly thereafter, the mage handed my father a scroll. They exchanged some final words and the Red Wizard rose up from the table and headed my way. Without looking directly at me, he said "Your father has bought you a place with me as my apprentice. It is a great honor. You have an hour to say your farewells."
So I did, the sadness of leaving my family making way for the feeling of being chosen for greatness.