the felmancer’s apprentice – Tyleril Silversword

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: I’ll die for you.

With a patience that was almost absurd Tyleril leaned over the metal blade he was polishing. Each inch of the blade had been overseen by his Pop and now it waited for its owner to claim it- a farstrider, Samiel had guessed. The blade was made in an older style, vines and flowers of iron holding the sharp blade to the hilt. The blade glowed with a dark light at the edges of his peripheral vision and Samiel wondered what enchantment had been applied to the weapon. It was a beautiful blade, a sign of Pop’s skill and Samiel felt his chest swell with pride. Pop was the best, out of all of them.

“-Ask no questions and hear no lies, turn the cheek and blind the eye, let it gooooo…” Tyleril’s words were soft and the song unfamiliar. It sounded old. “…and your already sold your soul. It’s blasphemy, but your words don’t make sense anymore. What would your family say? When you’ve lied to them all?…”

Samiel sat atop the highest crate. Pop’s songs were interesting, but they didn’t distract him from what went on in his mind. Trying to understand and to figure out this new puzzle.

“Some things you won’t understand without age or experience.” Tyleril knelt in front of him, still tall enough to block Samiel’s sunlight. He took a moment to study his Pop closely. Pop’s eyes were gold, a sign of how deeply and often he called upon the Light. But beneath that Samiel knew they were a solid grey the color of cobblestone. The v neck of his robes were cut low- a attempt to make them last longer by cutting and sewing new hems. Surgeon’s stitches kept the new hem nice, not hiding the curl of chest hair peeking out that was the same dark brown shade of his hair. His skin was white but working in the sun had given it a light brown tan to it. The halo over Pop’s head was to unique for words.

Pop was to nice. He always was. Samiel had learned that from a young age. Pop didn’t see it when people were rude to him and lied. He didn’t like anger or conflict, shying away from arguments. But if Pop thought it was for Samiel he would speak when silence would be wiser. He wore his heart on his sleeve, trying to be nice to everyone. Samiel knew that people were bad. He’d chased off enough and been bullied to much to forget how cruel people could be.

In Pop’s hands was a wicked looking knife. It was simple enough, but Samiel saw the runes engraved on the edges and could read them. They were a prayer for death, a fanatic’s words from a book that had been forbidden to Samiel. But he’d read it anyway.

“Why do you even have that? It’s not like you could use it.”

“I always have a w-weapon on me S….s-samiel.”

“Why.” It was meant to be a question but Samiel had never liked or agreed with Tyleril’s Altruist vows.

“If I need to then I will. You might be old enough to understand it-”

Samiel nodded. he wanted to be.

“I’ll die for you. To protect you. To keep you safe.” The intensity in Pop’s gaze was uncomfortable but he stared back, unwilling to look away.

Now he sat, watching Pop sing softly as he worked. Pop’s face was serene and calm. Absorbed by his work.

Some things you can’t understand until you’re older.

His mind worked at this puzzle, picking at it, thinking and running it through his mind. It wouldn’t be until Thallus came to visit the forges that his mind would stop and he would eagerly go to greet the Blood Knight.

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Sacrifice and Monsters

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“When- before the fall when Arthas Menethil came through our lands like a plague we were different. Healthier, in a sense. No undead, no ruined towns and sanctums. The ghostlands was safe save for the occasional amani.”

You know what I’m saying, but you don’t understand it. Not yet.

Samiel had asked his mother what she meant. She looked down at him, canting her head as she studied him. If she was Tyleril then Samiel would have pushed for an answer. But he did not. She was Mother and she was stronger than the leylines that ran beneath the land, more imposing than the statues of old elven kings that still stood in the city.

You understand me when i say I would die for you- when Tyleril says it, when any of us say it. But you do not understand the feeling. You don’t understand why we bleed on soil so far from home. Why we scream ‘For Quel’thalas’ or ‘For Anasterian’. Why we are hardened, battered, and broken. Forced to keep rising to the call of battle. You don’t understand old grudges. You have not yet seen walls painted and the paint then chipping away with old age.

He walked down the road from Unlce Cel’s one story mansion. Today Samiel took a different route. In his mind Samiel deemed this road to be the scarier of his routes leading back home. When he reached the part where the trees met the road, Samiel could see cracked in the cobblestone. Deep scratches and groove where armor, hawkstriders, and wagons had passed. The trees blocked out much of the evening light, casting shadows that beckoned as the cool wind raked its hands through Samiel’s hair. He could hear the silent whispers of leaves as they fell and were crunched under his boots.

What would you die for Samiel? What do you value so much that you would sacrifice anything for it? Your father will never again be able to raise a hand to inflict harm. Whether it’s foolish or not it’s done. Done out of love for his homeland and his allies in arms. Spoken out of a fool’s hope for a better world.

It was still a stupid vow. He scoweled as he made a sharp gesture. A falling leaf torn to pieces with a concentrated blast of energy. A small spell. Nobody else was there but Samiel swore something in the woods took notice. The wind blew against his back as if encouraging him to move faster before his transgression was punished.

He had no answer to his Mother’s words. When something happened he’d always gone to Pop, to Astrelline, Thanelor, Aestus, Alexander-

“And that’s what I mean Samiel. You understand sacrifice. But you haven’t gotten old enough to know that sometimes it’s worth bleeding, worth dying for or being maimed.”

He knew where Mother’s strongest enchanted weaponry was, her stash of coin and her fleeing bag. He knew how to greet her, how to deflect her irritation. He knew Pop, where Pop’s weapons were hidden and where the secret paper he was supposed to never read lay.

But something this time bothered him worse than the others. Her fel green gaze made him frown. The words stirred something in his chest though what Samiel had no clue.

It still bothered him as he walked down the road. Shadows lengthened slowly as the sun continued to sink low in the sky. But he didn’t fear them, even when the shadows lightly touched his boots. He had a dagger and a wand, and his magic. If anything happened he would be fine.

You seek a fight because you lack true understanding. You want an enemy to blame that is visible and beatable.

Words his mother had never said, but that had her voice trickled into his mind and the child started. His fingers twitched and he grew more alert. The wind innocently tugged at his hair and cloak as he hurried his steps.

This road, like so many others close to the pond, was safe. But the sudden revelation his mind had given him and the words his mother had spoken to him did not go away.

It would linger in his mind for some time no matter how hard Samiel tried to dismiss them. Mother had spoken the truth without coating it in sugar. He preferred it sometimes because she did not hide anything from him, no matter how blunt she was.

But other times her words were like briars resting against his skin and he was reminded that for all of his mother’s beautiful and youthful appearance, that she was old. Old enough to have seen the worst of the world, old enough to have gotten hardened skin and wisdom. A monster.

Should I ever be afraid of you Mother?

Why?

You said you’re a monster.

No. Fear the monsters that hide beneath honeyed smiles and gold. Fear the ones that will stab you in the back. The world has plenty of monsters but the monsters you should fear the most are the ones you feed and the ones that will kill you with a smile.

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Dull Daggers, Falling Stars, and Another Stranger Me

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I didn’t know, I couldn’t hear the answer
My mind was blank, I should have known
Hold it back but somehow
There is someone else, another stranger me

Another stranger me

“What does the Light think of Astrelline?”

Samiel’s bag was packed- two spare sets of clothing, a hidden dagger, food, books, spare paper, and art supplies had all been crammed into the tiny bag. It waited by the doorway to be picked up as Samiel waited for Tyleril to finish adjusting the iron buckles of his leather armor. It had been made originally by his mother and Pop. Imitation clothes and armor, something to make Samiel happy. Most children went through a phase of Farstrider adoration but despite the teasing and bullying Samiel had received for wearing it the child had never stopped. It had gone from imitation to something that was Samiel’s own.

The thin leather was replaced with hardboiled leather that was embroidered by Windsong’s masterful hand. Real armor made from gathered scraps to make a child’s dream real.

Pop didn’t answer Samiel right away as he eyes the armor, his mind elsewhere. “W-what do you mean?” He asked as his fingers gently brushed against Samiel’s red leather armor. It looked as if he was admiring it but they both knew Tyleril was checking it. It was better that the armor was as strong as they needed it to be, in case things they never wanted should come to pass.

“What does the Light think? About Astrelline?”

Pop tugged at Samiel’s tabard, smoothing out the wrinkles and creases so the well loved tabard laid smoothly against his armor. The golden eyes with their tint of green looked distant, thoughtful. The halo spoke to pop, Samiel knew. Though what the Light said Samiel was unaware of.

He didn’t think the Light ever knew anything really useful.

“Why are you asking?” Pop said finally. He knows something it whispered to him. Samiel tried not to let his curiosity get the better of him. “I wanted to know if it thought she wasn’t right. ‘Cause of the magic null thing.” Samiel shrugged as if he was uncaring but if he got to curious then Pop would clam up.

“The Light always talks to me S-samiel. But it does not s…s-simply give me information on other things.”

“It tells you to heal and sacrifice yourself. If that’s all the Light says then it doesn’t say anything worth listening to.” Not for the first time Samiel’s mind wondered what his Pop was like before the halo and the Light. How much had it changed him?

“I-” Pop began before he sighed. “it doesn’t say it quite like that S-samiel. But yes, it talks to me. It doesn’t- I don’t know how to describe it best. Think of it as a crowd that only murmurs and whispers but it’s always there. S-sometimes they murmur or whisper to me.”

“What do they say about Astrelline then?” He was curious now and he held onto his curiosity, wanting to pull out the answers he sought.

“Dull daggers, stars and another, stranger you.”

Samiel bite back the first sarcastic answer that crossed his mind. Insightful. “What does it mean by that Pop?”

“Astrelline’s not s-so different than you. She’s like a dull dagger but she’s as bright as a star. She’s not the only s…s-star in the sky but she still is one, no matter how dim she might shine in comparison to the others. But where the others r-remained in the sky she fell and now here she is. S-still bright and shining but no longer in the sky.” Pop’s lips twitched. “And stars only come out at night to shine and dance.”

“Why dull daggers and the other bit?”

“Because when you w-wield a sharp dagger you do not worry about if it cuts. It cuts smoothly and with ease. You don’t need to much strength to use it for your purposes. However, the more dull the dagger gets the more strength you use to compensate for the lack of a sharp edge.” Tyleril made a gesture with one hand, the other perfectly wrapping around a invisible dagger hilt. “And when you use to much strength-” The hand holding the invisible dagger slashed over his arm, following the line of red that seeped into the cloth wrapped around that arm. “Your compensating for the lack of sharpness results in harm- if not to you then another.”

Pop had hurt himself at work today and Samiel looked to the cloth. A clean rag that on anyone smaller would have been a towel. “Like you did.”

Pop smiled, nodding slowly. “Like I did. She’s not to different than you- you two both can be rather bitter and angry when you want.”

“Would you let people do to me what they did to Astrelline?”

Pop canted his head at Samiel. “I do not think it fair to ask the question assuming Absolain did not do everything he possibly could to try and save her.” Samiel flushed. “ I didn’t mean-”

“I know. But in their conflict you m-must remain neutral. Each person is the hero of their own story. They have their own emotions and viewpoint. You must remember that. W-we cannot paint everything with the same brush and to try and do so will ruin the painting. But, to answer the question, yes. I would die before I let them take you away and throw you off in exile.” Pop’s face was gentle and his voice steady but there was something in his eyes that made Samiel look away. It wasn’t comfortable to stare into Pop’s eyes and see the emotion there.

“I’mma go wait for Doves.”

“Did you tell Thanelor and Reynllin goodbye?” Samiel had wandered the apartment earlier and as was typical of him he demanded his attention from Alexander, Rai’thas, and Razail before he left. Brief affection and hugs before he wandered off. “Rey was off being a lizard somewhere.” A soft hiss, the scraping of claws and the rustle of wings announced the presence of Buttons as the whelpling waddled out to curl up by Samiel’s bag.

“And Thanelor?”

“Ann’da looked grumpy today.” He shrugged lightly and turned to go see Buttons. “Buttons! DOn’t eat that! No, buttons.” The whelpling gurgled in response as Samiel walked over to him. “I got my sword and wand today Buttons- I’ll descale you if you eat my candy today.”

A rude gurgle came in response. If Buttons felt threatened it wasn’t showing as the whelp stuck out its tongue.

Caught up in a fresh argument with Buttons Samiel missed Pop’s worried gaze as it swept over them two and down the street. Pop cradled his injured arm, glancing to the forges where Aestus and Catriah worked.

Whatever Tyleril might have wanted to say to Samiel then was lost in a angry gurgle and Samiel’s annoyed snap. Tyleril moved closer to smooth over whatever argument his two children were having as dark grey clouds rumbled overhead, promising a heavy downpour.

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Intense Focus

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Samiel eagerly opens the parcel, expecting mail. The statue he pulls out gives him pause. He doesn’t say anything as he examines the carving of Buttons. He couldn’t read Shalassian but that other fat Whelps would Astrelline have met on her travels?

Samiel’s room was the smallest bedroom in Tyleril’s apartment. A corner was set aside for his and Razail’s tent-bed. Books sat crammed onto the space of a handmade desk and stolen notes from other apprentices were carefully hidden beneath it. A mage light kept the room bright even as the sun outside the window began to lower in the sky. Silence reigned in the apartment now with Pop and the other residents of the apartment busy and away.

And in his room Samiel stared at the carving. His mind mulled over the last few times he’d seen Absolain and Astrelline.

‘Dangerous’, was what Pop had said Abs had called her. Abs had called Pop a holy imbecile. Tyleril had tried to hide that from him but Samiel had overheard his father as Tyleril had anxiously paced. Unaware of the meeting between Tyleril, Aestus, and Thanelor Samiel was left to wonder what else had happened. What else had made Pop’s anxiety spike so high again? What else was unsaid that he wasn’t hearing? Irritation made his lips tug into a scowl. To much was missing he didn’t know. To many pieces he wasn’t aware of. “It’s complicated.” He mocks Absolain’s words, doing his best to imitate the same tone the words had been delivered to him. The words echoed in the room long after they left his lips.His fingers tapped against the statue. Stop, Pop had said. But didn’t Pop take a vow to protect everyone? On the battlefield and off. He said to leave Absolain alone. Abs was angry, Pop said.

Samiel resisted the childishly angry impulse to burn the wood, though he felt his fingers warm up.

“I ‘spose…"

He begins slowly. He couldn’t go beyond the safe places Pop had limited him to. Thane and Mother wouldn’t help him find Astrelline either. Absolain was angry. Pop was anxious and the way his hands shook made Samiel suspect something was very wrong. "Not dead then. ” Astrelline was alive.

But what was he supposed to do? To young to leave home without an adult but not old enough to be treated like and adult. Gears turned and he ran his mind over spells, homework, lectures, and stories. There was a answer to be found, a way to do something. Anything.

Left to his own devices Samiel set the carving on his desk and grabbed a sheet of paper. He grasped at books to browse through them as he began to sketch. He was silent. But anger stirred in his chest, encouraging Samiel as the child began to focus.

“I’ll find something. I’m a kid or I’m an adult. But I’m always a kid when it’s convenient.” The last word held the stirrings of anger. “I’ll show everyone.” Somehow.

Though he refused to leave the statue alone for long. It would have a new traveling home on Samiel’s bag.

Blood was potent, Mother had told him once. To often, she had said, people discarded pieces of themselves. You could locate someone with their hair, blood droplets, or personal items. Mother said she was a monster and shouldn’t a monster be able to hunt it’s quarry? He hadn’t questioned her words. Like many things his mother had said and done it just…fit. Mother was a puzzle with missing pieces Samiel could not figure out. But she was a puzzle he knew. Mother was the monster under the bed, the thing in the closest, the who when you called out “Who’s there?”, and other things better left alone in the dark.

So Samiel let the missing pieces of Mother’s puzzle stay missing. She was brutally honest to him and it was a brutal honesty he appreciated best after much thought and silence.

Pop had dropped him off at Celtrois’s one story mansion home. His hand had trembled less today and when Samiel asked him what was wrong Pop had smiled and promised everything was fine.

But he lied.

Samiel could see the lie on Pop’s face before it was spoken aloud. Ghosts of leftover emotion lingering in his fathers fel-tinted golden eyes. Fine. If Pop was going to lie then Samiel was going to figure out his own answers to problems. “To young to be an adult. But an adult when it’s convenient.”

Celtrois’s home was richly furnished and kept meticulously clean through magic. It didn’t scream decadence but the furnishings oozed nobility in a way that only the oldest and most dignified noble houses seemed to manage. Everything looked costly. Samiel had apprenticed under Celtrois for a year now and knew the secret was not that the items were expensive- it was that they were old. Age was, in its own way, something that gave the items more. He might have been wrong but Samiel was certain that seemed right. Outside of Celtrois’s home there were grounds that Samiel considered large. Large enough to keep him hidden from his Uncle’s sharp eyes as he kneeled down on the ground.

There were few spells Samiel had been taught that he was allowed to use without asking for permission. After the dragonfire incident with Reynllin Celtrois and Pop and limited what Samiel was allowed to practice outside of Celtrois’s watchful eye. “Technically, I’m following the letter of the law and not the spirit.” He said aloud, reassuring himself.

A map of Quel’thalas lay on the ground, held down by one hand. “A bit of hair, a memory, and a droplet of blood.” Mother could do her spells with no regents, he registered and this knowledge brought annoyance with it. He pricked his finger with the tip of his knife and waited for a small droplet of blood to well up and fall onto the map. “One blood drop.” A few scales, painfully stolen from a dragonhawk, set atop the mirror. “And for the memory…” He remembered what Astrelline smelled like, the feeling of her hands when she touched him and how it felt for his magic to be made null. Seeing her smile and say Buttons name wrong. _Button._

He didn’t need to _find_ Astrelline exactly. Just the disturbance she made. He began to whisper aloud his memories of Astrelline, focusing his magic on the map. The scales seem to burn away with the blood droplet and the paper beneath them was gone. He should have used a proper scrying mirror.

Find the disturbance. Charm a monster. Send a letter. It seemed so simple. But as the map under his hands began to grow warm he had a moment of doubt that it would work at all.

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Barriers

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The book started out in an attempt to be simple. The language barrier was the hardest thing to overcome. But his magic had failed him, the adults in his life were either tight lipped.

It’s complicated.

Or they wouldn’t get involved.

If we force her to s-stay she’ll hate us. It’ll grow in her heart like a seed from the love that was there.

His location spell, in Samiel’s opinion, had been a complete failure. She was in Quel’thalas, in the Ghostlands. But exactly where his spell had failed him.

He reread Adrianal’s book once more, studying the artistic stylings and hints in there, trying to find something, some great way to convey things to Astrelline. One sentence in particular stuck in his mind. Colors are a great way to draw attention and create emotion.

The idea was planted and he spent days bending over a desk. It hadn’t been hard to tell Pop he wanted to stay with Thanelor or Reynllin- both were inclined to let Samiel have space when he wanted it. By the time he finished his fingers were aching, stiff, and stained with paint and inks. But the booklets that he’d finished was done.

He packed it with some jerky and a handful of candy for Astrelline.

A button is glued to the surface of the book, colored in black, white, and grey. The cover bears Buttons and Samiel’s faces.

But as the book was picked up and flipped through it held a dark, sad tone. Samiel and Buttons sitting in Silvermoon and EVersong all alone. A broken heart started out small but as the book was flipped through became more and more apparent. The last page showed Samiel alone with only the broken heart for company.

The second booklet had been attempted to staple onto the first. It started where the first ended. But where the first ended in lonlieness and heartbreak this one showed Astrelline returning and as she returned, color came with with her. The colors vibrant as the booklet has her hugging Samiel at the end, broken heart restored.

It was the best he could do and as Samiel watched Doves trot away on the horse he couldn’t help but wonder-

“S-samiel.”

Samiel’s head turns. “You weren’t at Reynllin or Thanelor’s apartments.” Tyleril had found out he’d slipped from his curfew. Samiel drew in a deep breath as all six feet and three inches of his father came closer. “We’re heading home- right now. You’re grounded S-samiel.”

Samiel didn’t argue. But as Tyleril lead him away, scolding him lightly. He looked the way Doves had gone.

Please come back.

@ocarina-of-what @teamdoodledork For brief mentions!

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Faith and Devotion

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“Just like this.” His Father had promised, taking a step forward. The water was so deep Samiel couldn’t find the bottom or see what swam below the innocuous seeming waters. But things lurked where the eyes could not follow. As Tyleril began to fall off the stone Samiel rushed to the edge, reaching for the pale ribbons of his Father’s robes.

He only ‘fell’ a few inches, standing atop the water as if glass was beneath his leather boots. With a pleased sigh Tyleril turned to offer his hand to Samiel. It took a few tries but Tyleril managed to force out the sounds his voice tried to deny him. “W-want to try Samiel?”

He looked to his Father’s boots again. The leather that made them up was kept well polished and clean, brass buckles and buttons polished to a dull shine. The edges of his father’s robes stopped just at the ankles, not hindering Tyleril’s movement thanks to the long slits on the sides. But beneath Tyleril’s foot the water remained undisturbed, even as Samiel saw his feet shift before he rolled his shoulders.

He hesitated as he reached out to grab onto Tyleril’s hand. Thickly calloused with fingers shaped by centuries of smithy work. Samiel felt Tyleril pause, then grasp his smaller hand firmly. He took one step backwards, then another stretching out the distance between them.

“It’ll be fine.” He promised.

The words hung in the air as Samiel debated.

Light, please. He wanted to do this. He wanted to this badly. This was a skill he wanted. He had no reason for wanting it beyond that he did. But now…

What to say to something like the Light? To gain some sort of favor from a higher power? Samiel didn’t know and Tyleril didn’t offer. It was stupid. It was so stupid to believe in the Light to the point Pop did…

Please. He sent the thought out and without further debate he stepped forward with haste. Please let me levitate like Pop. He felt himself fall but that was fine so did Pop.

Then ocean water soaked his shoes a moment before Tyleril’s hands slid beneath his shoulders to lift him up quickly. “Not bad.” He offered an encouraging smile as Samiel flushed. “W-want to try again?” Tyleril still levitated above the water with apparent ease as he set Samiel back on land.

“If you want the Light to respond S-samiel you have to believe. You have to w-want it.”

“If it doesn’t come when I ask for it to then it’s kind of stupid isn’t it?” It had not been the first time Samiel had attempted to call on the Light. But rather the latest in one of several frustrated attempts.

“I could give you the lecture on faith and devotion but the s-simplest answer is you have to believe, you have to want it and you need the w-willpower to control it. I could tell you that sunstrider iced tea was the f-finest liqour mix available- but until you’re able to try liqour for yourself it might as w-well be a pretty drink or a picture. A figment of the imagination.” Tyleril shrugged as Samiel scoweled.

“I’m not old enough to drink.”

“I meant that if you want it you need the willpower to use it. If you want to make it s-stronger then you need belief. Belief that it is there and devotion to whatever cause you s-serve.” The halo shimmered over his Father’s head, letting go a handful of light sparks that slowly fell down to be swallowed by the ocean.

“The Blood Knights can use it without needing to believe.”

Tyleril nodded. “They can, yes. But that requires training. As T-thallus could tell you it is not the s-sort of training they give children, nor the s-same sort that they give any blood elf. To become a Blood Knight is far more difficult than many things in Silvermoon- they’re the elite. Like the Farstriders they do not command respect for no reason. I’ve l-little doubt Thallus could do much with the Light. But what he does and what I do are different.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. But as Tyleril stepped onto ground once more to prepare to go home Samiel eyed him, curiously watching.

“Does everyone else just dedicate themselves?”

“To a cause. To a thing better than themself. Yes. But the Light can be used by anyone. You can reject it but…” Tyleril’s eyes moved to Samiel. “When you’re so talented with the arcane w-why go to the Light?”

“You think so?”

“Oh, of course. You can already do ah..portals? Portling?”

“Portals! Khal is teaching me.”

“Oh. How w-wonderfully kind. And you can do the s-spitefire.”

“Dragonfire! Sort of. I got grounded for it, remember?Uncle Cel sent me with extra homework.”

Samiel’s irritation faded as Tyleril innocently asked questions. Easy, stupid questions. But ones Samiel was happy to answer all the same.

“And Laz can do the ahhh, s-spitefire to?”

“No, he can do the ice missiles.”

“Oh, the arcane s-spells.”

“No! Pop. They’re like this…”

@shampoocommercialelves and @crystal-pyre for brief mentions

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Catalyst

the felmancer's apprentice

Art by @teamdoodledork

“You’re a catalyst for change. Some people might envy that.”

“A catalyst?”

“You are not content to remain as you are. Whether it is improving your spells or searching for knowledge you’re never content to remain still.”

“Pop like to stay in Quel’thalas.”

“Tyleril focuses on different things than you do. But he doesn’t remain the same. The man he was four centuries ago is not the same man he was now. His change is slow and subtle. A rock worn smooth by the ocean. You’re the spark that lights the field afire.”

“What happens if I stopped?”

“You stop. You stagnate. You exist and little more.”

“Isn’t everyone else a catalyst then? By your definition Mother.”

Windsong looked down at Samiel from where she floated in the air. Her fel green eyes seemed to stare through him, causing him to shift uncomfortably in the clothes she’d made for him.

“Not everyone. We all change, albeit slowly. Long lived as we are some people settle. Not you. You’re not satisfied with ‘the sun is yellow’ you want to know why. “

“What if… what if I wanted to know why you left me with Pop?” It wasn’t a question he meant to ask. But it lingered in the air after he said it. Mother looked down at him again, but he resisted the urge to squirm and stared up at her. She looked beautiful to him in her mage’s robes, corn white silken hair and fel green eyes. She didn’t move often and something about her had always reminded him of a spider. Watching, waiting to see which part of its web you would tear up with your clumsiness.

“Because I am not a Mother.” She said flatly. “I have no parenting instinct, no flesh-inspired desire to protect and care. I love you now for the person you are Samiel but I do not have a parent’s instinct.” Mother’s eyes left him to look across the street. “It might be hard for you to understand that. But I, on my own, am no parent. A screaming babe does not inspire any reaction to me. You managing to survive birth was a miracle. That you survived to reach your age even more of one.”

“Oh.” He didn’t have anything else to say.

“It’s shit you grow up like this. Lacking a group of friends close in age. But you’ve made due. You might complain and clash with Tyleril but the man has done more for you than I have ever been able to. You aren’t content to sit and wait for the world to put things in your hand. You seethe and rage, you consume knowledge, you seek to protect what’s important, and to reach out where others would turn away.”

He squinted up at her, wondering but daring not to ask the lingering question in his mind.

But she knew anyway. Somehow Mother always knew.

“No. The man that contributed to your existence isn’t aware you exist.”

“Why?”

Mother put a finger to her blood red lips before leaning down to whisper to him. “Because then you’d be in danger. Tyleril would be in danger. Politics are dangerous Samiel. The ones your birth father are in even more so.”

“Do you think he’d be mad at you?”

“At me? Yes. He’d be very mad I’ve kept him in the dark so long. Be grateful you look more like me than him.”

Curiosity brought forth the next question. “Why? What’s he like?”

“Older than I am. Wise but with little magic talent. You two are both stubborn and quick-witted, clever. Dry humor.” Her lips twitched into a fond smile.

But the smile was brief and she shook her head. “No more Samiel. That is all. When you grow older I’ll tell you more but not now. You need to be able to defend yourself proper before I throw you to the wolves.”

Like many of his conversations with Mother seemed to end she left him with several questions. He wasn’t ever certain if it was a good or bad thing to leave somebody with so many. But, he assumed, if Mother knew the answer to so much like Pop did, then surely each good answer would have more questions.

The information on his birth father, however, was new. He didn’t know what to make of it, mulling over the information. Something new to think about and pry for more in the future.

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Worry that Fuels the Fire

the felmancer's apprentice

Tyleril ran away.

Perhaps that’s what bothered him the most. More than Astrelline’s words, more than Razail’s current muteness. More than Buttons stealing his food. Rather than stay and fight or simply swat away a territorial dragonhawk, Tyleril had picked Samiel up and ran. The dragonhawks Samiel was used to weren’t a threat, not really.

But Tyleril picking Samiel up and running away had been an unwanted reminder of the vows he had taken. Astrelline’s words later that night hadn’t helped either and he’d been angry ever since.

This is what I chose Samiel. For everyone. Tyleril’s words echoed in his mind. Your father wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t believed to the core of his being it would help us all…it’s hard to love a man who gives so much. Thanelor’s words drew a scowl.

“The rest of them won’t care.” He’d told Pop. “Your vows don’t mean anythin’ to them. They’re not gonna help or sacrifice for you ‘cause you’ll do it for them.” Tyleril took a deep breath, standing up to tower over Samiel. Pop looked like he could withstand a blow from a cannon and keep standing. But the argument they had, short as it was, seemed to tire him out. Tyleril reached up to run his hand over his hand, dark copper tresses bound in a thick waist length braid. “Yes. But they do not have to. They never n-need to Samiel. This…it’s me. It’s what I do.”

It was true. Tyleril was always like that. But it didn’t make Samiel any less unhappy as he stalked away from the forges. Walking through the city was a blur of red, small enough to slip through the crowds and dart down the streets until he reached the gates. The loud sound of chatter, the sounds of plate and the arcane guardians faded with the smell of magic regents, sweat, and the smell of perfumes.When his feet reached the end of the bridge where it met the dirt road he looked around.

Laz waited for him there in mortal form. It made his heart beat a little faster and the irritation drain away like water through a sieve. “Laz!” The whelpling’s amber gold eyes found him as Samiel sprinted up, reaching out to grab onto Laz

It does nobody any good to hold in their anger Samiel. If you have the option to walk away and come back later then choose it. Some things cannot be fixed when they leave your mouth. You’re very damaging with your words when you want to be.

“Are you ready for the beach?”

@shampoocommercialelves

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: A single droplet of water

the felmancer's apprentice

“When the Sunwell was lost so too, among us were the infirm and the young, You survived by a miracle. The other passed away because mana addiction stole them from us.” How, Pop had never explained why. Samiel had never asked, assuming it was Light-related and therefore, uninteresting to him.

But as he grew older he began to understand. There were few children near his age, if any at all, at times. He grew to understand some of the attention he got was due either to that he survived at all or because of the magical talent he possessed.

“She left.”

“I know.” Windsong looked down at Samiel beneath her blood red hood. As Samiel stared up he saw the gradually shifting and changing illusion. A square jaw became softer, red hair fading to blond slowly. One glimpse and the illusion changed just enough to make you doubt what you had seen. “Did you?”

“I had an idea. She doesn’t sound the type to settle in and make a home out of a abandoned room.” Samiel didn’t know what to say to that, shrugging. The tears that he had shed earlier had been wiped away. He stood at the entrance to Falconwing Square, staring at the road and all the trees he could see, searching. “I tried to offer you and Pop’s help but-”

“She said no.” Mother finished for him. He nodded again, feeling the backs of his eyes sting with unwanted emotion. “I dropped the subject about her dad Mother. But I- I tried. I brought food. I got the clothes you made her. I brought Buttons all the time.” The trees and road began to wobble in his vision, even after he had rubbed his sleeves against his eyes. “I was gonna ask Pop to fix the room up.”

“He probably would have done it. There’s nothing more Tyleril likes to do than to give. It’s part of his belief system.” She didn’t comment at all as Samiel continued to wipe at his eyes, simply staring ahead. Something that made him feel profoundly grateful. “it was going to rot away anyway Sammy. The main support beam in that house is rotting. Best she leave it now anyway.” It was a lie she uttered from between red painted lips. But it was a lie that made Samiel’s tears slow. “Prolly good then.” Samiel managed. “Before it broke.”

“Aye. Better now than next month.” If he believed anything about his mother more than anything it was the words she uttered, no matter how blunt she might deliver them. She saw the future and things nobody wanted to be found. If she said the beam was rotting them Samiel believed the beam was rotting. It never occurred she would lie to him. “But she’ll be back and you’ll go see her time-to-time.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure of it. I’ll talk to Tyleril.”

“‘Kay.”

“You tried your best Samiel. You can’t control someone else’s actions. The best you can do is what you can. Then hope it works out. Sometimes you gotta help by grabbing a sword and other times the most you can do is talk to them.”

“I tried to help fix things between her and her dad.”

“Some things you can’t fix Samiel and when it comes to those you’re just a droplet of water falling onto dry earth- you make a difference. But you can’t do enough. Not on your own. No, some things require more and this time you cannot bridge a gap made worse by time, wounds, and regret.”

“I really wanted her to stay.”

“I know. But if you tried to control her actions she’d hate you for it. If you argued she’d have dug her heels in. But because you cared, you made some difference, however small that might have been. You still made one where no other would have otherwise.”

As nice as Mother’s words were this time, they did little to soothe the ache in his chest. “Yeah.” He said softly. “But it didn’t help like I wanted.”

“Someday it might.” She promised, pushing herself off the wall. “But for now- let’s go home, hmm?” Turning from him she wrapped her illusion around her tightly. With every passing glance something changed and he knew once they got into Silvermoon she’d have to hold his hand so he wouldn’t lose her. But as they walked her kept glancing into the forest. Even the cheerful gurgling of Buttons at his side didn’t ease his mood when thunder rumbled through the forest and droplets began to fall. She’d promised to come back.

Seven days. She had promised Samiel. Seven days.

He wondered if that was true.

The Felmancer’s Apprentice: Lost Flowers and Heavy Hearts

the felmancer's apprentice

The dismissive gesture hurt.

“Mother, what did you say to him?”

Windsong didn’t answer right away as the door shut behind them and when she did answer, she ignored the question. “You know Samiel, you always know if people like you for you because they show it.” He debated going back, but the door seemed tightly sealed now. Impenetrable. “I guess? We’re gonna get Astrelline clothes, right Mother?”

“Sure.” Windsong moved swiftly forcing Samiel to almost jog to keep up with her. “She looks like she should have leather, an’ curtains, an’ a pillowcase, an’ hairstuff, an’-” he continued to rattle off a list from his head, confident Windsong would help him produce the requested items. She said she would and Samiel knew that, unlike his Pop, mother had enough money he didn’t worry over asking.

“Does she eat that much?”

“I dunno. She’s really thin though so she probably needs a lot of food just to have stored around.” Mother let out a grunt of acknowledgment at the words. “no sense in just giving her gold. Probably better to give her what she needs.”

“What did you say to him?”

Windsong went silent for several moments. “That I might offer her a job.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Her talent could be useful. I don’t know what yet but the work could be steady and provide good coin. No sense in letting good talents wither.”

“She doesn’t understand Thalassian though.”

“Then we’ll bring her books so she can learn and I’ll offer.”

“Did he say why he was upset?”

“…no.”