Mage
In a land far from here was a small city. And in this small un-known city people would bustle about in daily lives. In many ways it is like your home, just a flashback to the 1700's. But all the same it was different.
This was a city where magic hung thick in the air as a fragrant scent. Where song could be heard above the creaky wagon wheels. Or a slow, simmering, hot soup. The halls beheld no tyrant but a generous man with will to help and two growing young boys. In fact, life was rather simple for a humble man, such as Nebakh.
Nebakh Norellie is his name and he lives in the city of Ancesteral. His story begins around forty years ago when magic was first discovered and he was but a young boy.
A tyrant that was much more like a warlord ruled the town back then. The tyrant had two young boys; Nebakh was one of them. Dressed in finery he would begin his leisurely day only to dress in finery once again at night.
He hated this it was inconceivable boring. The only way to forget about it was to daydream, and daydream he did. For fifteen years of his life he spent his time in a waking dream. Imagining being a sorcerer, people he could save and every once and a while a girl.
As a young boy who wanted a start to what he wished to be he ran to his father.
"You will do no such thing."
"But dad-."
"Do not but me young man. Magic can not be taught it is something you are born with. And I strongly believe that it is a curse."
The servant girl nearby dropped her ice pitcher and muttered her apologies. But she had gone unnoticed by both father and son.
"No I will except no more of this foolishness" the tyrant pointed his fingers a Nebakh. "Is that understood?"
"Yes sir" Nebakh answered sulkily before disappearing down the elaborate halls.
The tyrant only ignored the young girl in the presence of his son. "Why would you drop that you foolish girl? It is the finest silver around and you broke it. You shall be punished maybe no money, or better yet no food." The girl never coward below the tyrant only stood silent as he released his wrath.
Nebakh wandered through the palace to the gardens late that night. As he passed through the rows of cocallians and sunflowers he heard soft chanting coming from the pond.
Intrigued Nebakh moved forward his fifteen year old body kicking in as he neard the source.
At first all he saw was a dazzling white light. It faded soon from blinding too bearable and Nebakh strained his eyes. Below the dazzling light there were women, many of them. All dancing and singing and chanting. There was a thick fragrant smell in the air and he would have believed it was the flowers had he not already smelled them.
He turned his focus onto what was within the light. Inside he found one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Her hair fell in torrents down to her waist. She was slim but carried weapons. Her face revealed her as firm but kind. The lady transfixed him and as she turned to look him in the eye he found himself blushing.
"Anita" said the woman. "Are you ware of any men in the premises?"
"No ma'am." The replying girl was the servant from that afternoon..
The lady was still staring back at him but Nebakh's eyes were on the girl called Anita.
"Do you not feel a pair of eyes bearing down on you?"
"Yes ma'am I do."
"Well then discover who or what it is."
Anita sprinted in the direction of Nebakh. Nebakh's first idea wa srun but as he tried he discovered he could not."
"Young Master?" Anita was clearly shocked at seeing him. "How did you get out here?"
"Might it be any consolation that I can't move?"
Anita laughed full haughtily and Nebakh realized how much he missed that sound. The last person he had heard laugh was his brother who had refused to be tyrant in his fathers place and that had been five years ago.
Laughing was another thing considered a sin in his household. At age 10 his father had made sure that he would never laugh again.
"Young Master" Anita's voice rang like a bell. "You must be getting in now."
He felt her gentle touch to his knees and then she whispered into his ear. "Tell no one what you have seen. Now run."
At her words Nebakh ran through the flowers, and the halls to the comfort of his room.
In a land far from here was a small city. And in this small un-known city people would bustle about in daily lives. In many ways it is like your home, just a flashback to the 1700's. But all the same it was different.
This was a city where magic hung thick in the air as a fragrant scent. Where song could be heard above the creaky wagon wheels. Or a slow, simmering, hot soup. The halls beheld no tyrant but a generous man with will to help and two growing young boys. In fact, life was rather simple for a humble man, such as Nebakh.
Nebakh Norellie is his name and he lives in the city of Ancesteral. His story begins around forty years ago when magic was first discovered and he was but a young boy.
A tyrant that was much more like a warlord ruled the town back then. The tyrant had two young boys; Nebakh was one of them. Dressed in finery he would begin his leisurely day only to dress in finery once again at night.
He hated this it was inconceivable boring. The only way to forget about it was to daydream, and daydream he did. For fifteen years of his life he spent his time in a waking dream. Imagining being a sorcerer, people he could save and every once and a while a girl.
As a young boy who wanted a start to what he wished to be he ran to his father.
"You will do no such thing."
"But dad-."
"Do not but me young man. Magic can not be taught it is something you are born with. And I strongly believe that it is a curse."
The servant girl nearby dropped her ice pitcher and muttered her apologies. But she had gone unnoticed by both father and son.
"No I will except no more of this foolishness" the tyrant pointed his fingers a Nebakh. "Is that understood?"
"Yes sir" Nebakh answered sulkily before disappearing down the elaborate halls.
The tyrant only ignored the young girl in the presence of his son. "Why would you drop that you foolish girl? It is the finest silver around and you broke it. You shall be punished maybe no money, or better yet no food." The girl never coward below the tyrant only stood silent as he released his wrath.
Nebakh wandered through the palace to the gardens late that night. As he passed through the rows of cocallians and sunflowers he heard soft chanting coming from the pond.
Intrigued Nebakh moved forward his fifteen year old body kicking in as he neard the source.
At first all he saw was a dazzling white light. It faded soon from blinding too bearable and Nebakh strained his eyes. Below the dazzling light there were women, many of them. All dancing and singing and chanting. There was a thick fragrant smell in the air and he would have believed it was the flowers had he not already smelled them.
He turned his focus onto what was within the light. Inside he found one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Her hair fell in torrents down to her waist. She was slim but carried weapons. Her face revealed her as firm but kind. The lady transfixed him and as she turned to look him in the eye he found himself blushing.
"Anita" said the woman. "Are you ware of any men in the premises?"
"No ma'am." The replying girl was the servant from that afternoon..
The lady was still staring back at him but Nebakh's eyes were on the girl called Anita.
"Do you not feel a pair of eyes bearing down on you?"
"Yes ma'am I do."
"Well then discover who or what it is."
Anita sprinted in the direction of Nebakh. Nebakh's first idea wa srun but as he tried he discovered he could not."
"Young Master?" Anita was clearly shocked at seeing him. "How did you get out here?"
"Might it be any consolation that I can't move?"
Anita laughed full haughtily and Nebakh realized how much he missed that sound. The last person he had heard laugh was his brother who had refused to be tyrant in his fathers place and that had been five years ago.
Laughing was another thing considered a sin in his household. At age 10 his father had made sure that he would never laugh again.
"Young Master" Anita's voice rang like a bell. "You must be getting in now."
He felt her gentle touch to his knees and then she whispered into his ear. "Tell no one what you have seen. Now run."
At her words Nebakh ran through the flowers, and the halls to the comfort of his room.