Intermission: Oren

Fystone
In the southern mountains, in eastern Iquai, near The Valley, lies a small mining town called Fystone. Most of the town is made up of a large shanty-town style settlement where the miners live. There are orchards surrounding the town in the hills, and fisheries on the lake. On the outskirts of the town is an old iron mine. Overlooking the small merchant square is a gated district the few wealthy members of this society call home. The mine is owned by a man called Brian Lane. He and his family run the town and treat the miners more like serfs. Many people in the town are poor and illiterate, and the Orcish police force, called The Rorgh, happily oppresses them. The Lane family is ignored by them primarily due to their eagerness to keep down the peasants. The iron mine is the main reason the town exists as more than a trading post. It is very productive for its size and keeps the family well off, though they're hardly a threat to the true upper-class of Iquai.

Kian was a penniless miner in the Lane Family's mine until he met a niece of the owner. Niev Lane was a beautiful young lady who was expected to marry well. Her father was obviously an important man in town and did not take kindly to a peasant giving her attention. After she became pregnant he begrudgingly allowed her to marry Kian, and they went to live together in his small home. They were happy for several years after the birth of their daughter Aimee, but the grudge of Niev's family got Kian into trouble. He had a habit of poaching, which was never enforced in the area, but his father-in-law ensured that he was arrested and sent to the prison in The Valley.

Rather than keeping up one large building to house prisoners indefinitely, the people of this region prefer the use of a series of small individual cells just inside the vast desert known as The Valley. Each has its own small well, and shelter from the sun and rain. Prisoners are locked in a cell for days, weeks, or even a month. Rarely is a longer sentence needed. Being left with enough food to keep them alive, they suffer alone and almost always come back with stories of ghosts and other spirits. It is unknown if these creatures are merely myths, as nobody ever goes to The Valley willingly at night to find out the truth. There is very low recidivism in the area, and the citizens consider this system fair and just compared to the hard labour and long sentences the rest of the country prefers.

Kian spent one month in a Valley Cell, alone, with only the ghosts and djinni and foxes to talk to. The iron bars of his cell kept them out, but their whispering through the night made his short stay in the cell unbearable. After he returned he quickly recovered and went back to his normal life. They lived happily, and although they were poor they did have some money from Niev's former life. Enough to live a simple, comfortable life, and to always have necessities.

After almost 5 years of marriage, Oren was born.

10 Salea, 7407 AC
Niev smiled. "His name is Oren," she said as she carefully wrote the letters onto a piece of parchment. She started to blow on the ink softly, though the action only made her head hurt worse. She then passed the card to Aimee and carefully adjusted the sleeping baby in her arms, laying back to rest with him. Aimee smiled and spelled out the name. She should be better at reading by now, I really need to practice with her. Niev stroked her daughter's hair and smiled faintly, taking the card. "Good job. You'll be reading books soon." She placed the card on the table beside the bed and closed her eyes. ''Their father can't read. Maybe it's not important?'' Niev sighed, she wanted more for her children but had long since accepted that they would likely have difficult lives, though she hoped her own education and breeding would help them in the future. Aimee would likely marry a decent sort of middle-class man, but she wondered what sort of life her son would have. She gently stroked his cheek, causing him to fuss and open his eyes. She almost regretted waking him, but seeing his blue eyes made her beam with pride. If only Aimee had the same eyes, she'd do much better in life. Aimee leaned against her and she felt guilty. ''There's nothing wrong with brown eyes, I suppose. Like Kian's.'' "Mom, is he going to cry again?" Aimee brushed Oren's face with her fingers, trying to soothe him as her mother had done earlier. He quieted down for a moment and she smiled, but then frowned as he began to cry louder. Niev winced at the sound, sending a shock through her aching head. She put her arm around her daughter and pulled her closer, closing her eyes. She softly began to sing an old lullaby in a language nobody born away from the mountains knew of. "A leana mo chléibh, go n-éirí do chodlaigh leat..." Aimee closed her eyes and snuggled against her mother as Oren slowly stopped to listen. He stared up at her as she sang. "Séan agus sonas gach oíche i do chómhair... Tá mise le do thaobh a' gui ort na mbeannacht," she softened her voice as she felt him falling asleep in the crook of her arm, quiet at last. "Seoithín mo leana Is ní imeoidh tú leo." Niev leaned back and fell asleep with her children in her arms.

4 Lora, 7410 AC
Life was hard when Niev was alive. It was impossible without her. Kian tried desperately to care for their two children, but he had exhausted what little savings they had on a wet nurse for the baby; by the time he was weaned they were penniless again. He had been working back then, after his first stay in a Valley Cell, and was determined not to return to his old ways; especially now that his wife's uncle seemed hell bent on ruining him. He stared into the small box where they kept what little money he earned doing odd jobs around town. He couldn't work at the mine, and that left very little. He helped out on farms until a well dressed young cousin of Niev had a chat with each of the local farmers. After that he found himself journeying further to work and earning less with every job. Aimee was old enough to keep an eye on Oren all day now, which made things easier.

The sun was setting, and Kian had no idea where his children were. He had just returned from walking miles and had only a few copper coins for all his hard work. He dropped the coins into the box and shut it. He walked to the area that made up their kitchen and sliced a loaf of hard bread and opened the pot of soup he had filled in town at the pub. At least I'm still welcome there, he thought, taking out the small half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey he had also procured. He took a small sip and put the bottle away for safekeeping. Just then, the door slammed open and he jumped slightly, startled by the noise. He turned just in time to feel a wet toddler slam into his legs. "Dad we're home!" said Aimee, as she shut the door carefully. She laughed as she saw her father peeling Oren off of him and patting his damp clothes to shake the mud off. "Sé do bheatha abhaile.” He quickly welcomed them, and then began his interrogation. “Where were ya? Why's he filthy?" he asked, grabbing a rag. Aimee opened her mouth to give a measured reply, but Oren blurted out "We went swimmin!" before she could come up with a decent excuse. "You mean you went swimming," she replied. "I tried to stop him, but it was hot and he really wanted to. But I didn't go in and it's his fault we were out so late!" Kian looked over at his daughter and realized her hair was wet as well. "Ye need to be more careful, it's almost dark. And ya could of drowned. Don't do things like that." Oren nodded as his father dried him off, "Sh'said it was ok. I'm hungry." He ran off to sit at the table and wait for dinner, still trailing mud. Kian wiped his hands off and continued to prepare their dinner.

8 Silium, 7412 AC
Oren sat on the cold wooden floor and watched his father pace around the room. He knew better than to bother him when something serious was going on. It was probably about money again, or food. Oren had offered to go work in the mine, but they said he was too young. Oren thought it was unfair- he didn't even know his exact age, how could they tell if he was too young? Aimee said he was at least five, and that's almost ten. His sister had already taken a job washing clothes in town, but it didn't earn much and her hands were red from the strong soap. He watched his father stumble slightly, then lean on the wall and slide down to the floor. His face was covered, and Oren was concerned. He didn't want to bother him, so he just sat quietly, hoping they could have dinner tonight with little optimism. He had asked his father to shoot more birds last week, and he had done it. Oren didn't understand why he didn't shoot birds every day. From outside, he heard quick, light footsteps and waited for Aimee to enter. She opened the door and closed it quickly, locking it behind her. "Dad, dad, there are police coming!" Kian didn't respond, he just hugged his arms tighter around himself and shook his head. After a long silence, he pulled out a bottle and finished it, tossing it aside. He stared at something far away, between the children, then rose. He knelt before Aimee and hugged her, whispering something that sounded important, and kissed her cheek. Then he walked over to Oren, careful not to stumble to show how drunk he was, though Oren was used to identifying the state and adjusting his behavior accordingly. His father patted him on the head and said, "You'll be better off this way. Just wait fer the police to take ya to yer real family." His voice broke and he took a deep breath, "I can't go back ta prison. I'm sorry." He stumbled away and picked up his gun. Before either child could register what was happening, the gun went off and the room was covered in blood. Aimee screamed and ran to the other room, but Oren simply sat still, waiting as he had been instructed. His eyes were wide, and he carefully tried to wipe some of the blood off of his face as the door was kicked in by an orc officer.

He could barely hear anything after the loud gunshot. The orc lifted him up and asked him something as he was carried outside. He remembered an orc cleaning him up, packing up a few things, and taking the children to a large house. A mean old man sent them away, and they arrived at the home of their father's younger brother, Ezra. He tried to refuse, but the orc made it very clear that he had a responsibility to take care of the children. Oren could tell they weren't wanted, and desperately wished to go home. He and Aimee were given a large chair to sleep on temporarily, and nothing to eat that night.

16 Tolea, 7414 AC
In the forests near Fystone there were many types of plants and animals. Unfortunately, poaching was illegal. Hunting tags were expensive and trapping was strictly managed by the authorities. This was necessary to keep the ecosystem in balance. Logging was also restricted. Collecting smaller plants and herbs, however, was not regulated in any way. Because of this Oren knew which plants were edible and which were poisonous. He knew which plants had other purposes, too. He would ask the old ladies in town who sold them which were best, and offered to acquire them for free. In return, he learned everything they knew about herbalism in the area, with the women hardly aware they had made the transaction. Before long he was supplementing the diet of his family with healthy roots and mushrooms, and earning a small amount of money whenever he found something valuable. Today was a good day for picking mushrooms. It had rained just enough, and Oren was able to gather a large batch which would feed his family a real dinner.

He returned to their humble shack to deliver the food to his uncle. Ezra was hard at work fussing over a tub of what would soon become moonshine. Oren held out his shirt to show the mushrooms. "Uncle..look, I got food.. are ya hungry? Can we cook 'em?" Ezra looked down at the mushrooms and sighed, "Good job, did ye get any meat to go with that? Ye can't live on vegetables, y'know." Oren nodded and went to put the mushrooms in a pot. "I'll go find some, sorry." He ran out the door as his uncle shook his head and smiled. He was doing his best to raise them, and Aimee seemed to be doing alright. She would be a woman soon and then she'd be off his hands, but Oren he was more worried about. He still had a long time before he could be useful and start really earning. He was strange, stupid, and he was too skinny to do well working in a mine. There's not much else in this town. Ezra sighed, he knew he would likely never have children of his own at this rate. He hadn't been in a position to take on two children, and though he was still young he doubted he'd ever be able to afford a wife. Maybe after Aimee marries. He went back to mixing his brew and worrying about Oren's future, while Oren stood outside wondering where to get meat.

He walked towards the town and sat down next to the lake to watch the fishermen pulling in the day's catch. He wondered if he could help them in exchange for some fish. I only need one. They carried baskets of fish off of the boats and loaded them onto a cart, then left towards town. Oren watched them go, never bothering to ask for their help. He walked back to the house empty-handed and saw his uncle had prepared the mushrooms. Aimee had set the table and was waiting politely for him to join them. He sat at the table and was given a small portion. He ate silently, feeling guilty about not acquiring the meat, and never realizing that his uncle was only joking.

7 Laphone, 7414 AC
One day, after several years of caring for the children, Ezra took Oren into town to run some errands. They stopped by a few places, paid some debts, delivered a few bottles of moonshine, and eventually Ezra left him to wait outside a shop while he met a man on business. While he waited, Oren saw a large ornate wagon with charms hanging from the edges and two impressive dapple-grey horses. He had never seen such large horses, or such bright colours as the paint on the wagon. The charms moved with the wind slowly and made pretty sounds. He moved to where the horses were tethered and pet the nose of one of the animals while it drank. He smiled and tried not to scare the horse, and it didn't seem to mind him. The world faded away and for a moment he enjoyed a simple thing that made him happy. This ended with a shock when his uncle reemerged from the shop and pulled him away, struck his face, and quickly threatened him. "Don't you know anything? The toff who owns that horse'll take yer hand if he saw, ya idiot!" Oren winced and turned his face downward. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm sorry." Ezra tried to pull him away before anyone else realized what was happening, but it was too late. He looked up and saw the owner of the wagon observing them. He appeared to be a round-faced man in his 60's with a short grey beard. He wore an ornate long robe tied loosely over his fine clothes. Clearly a wealthy traveler and possibly a mage, if the strange symbols on his clothes were any indicator.

The man approached and asked, "how old is the boy?" gesturing at the child casually. Ezra replied with as much humility as he could muster "He's too young to know better, milord, I apologize on his behalf. I'll punish him, don't worry." The man stared at the child for a while, glanced back at the horses, then pulled out some money. "I would like to buy you son." He said it like he was buying a sack of rice. Ezra recoiled and brazenly informed the man, "He is my nephew and won't be used by some toff for that." He took Oren's hand and started to leave quickly, as the man held out ten heavy coins on a cord, each worth ten gold. Ezra stopped and considered it. He wondered if Oren might be better off. This man might abuse him... but he might take care of him. Maybe he means to do well by him, and raise him right. Or at the very least, not hurt him. He'd feed him and keep him from dying in some mine in five years. And he could take better care of Aimee if he were rich. All the reasons to do it flooded his mind and he desperately tried to cling to the reasons not to. But he couldn't stop thinking about how his brother had cheated him of his own happiness in one moment of weakness. How Aimee could end up with a worse man than this if he couldn't provide for her.

He took the money and shoved Oren towards the man, then left quickly without any further questions. Oren cried and begged to go home, but he was escorted to the wagon and obediently climbed into the seat when asked. They left the town immediately and headed west.

11 Laphone, 7414 AC
Four days after leaving the town Oren wouldn't remember the name of, the ornate wagon was approaching a small village in the hilly countryside to the east of Fallowfield. The man had since introduced himself as Adani Pender, wizard. Oren wasn't really clear on what a wizard was, but he had been told he was an apprentice and expected he would learn the details soon. He had seen minor magic tricks once, when a raggedy man came to town and performed a few illusions and juggled for the children. He understood the basic principles of it, but had never imagined he might learn it himself. "No more camping out for us," said the wizard, as the wagon pulled up to an inn. He hopped down and told Oren to do the same. Oren stood back awkwardly, unsure of how to help with the horses and not wanting to be in the way. A young man took their lead and started to escort them away with an enthusiastic "right away, Mr. Pender." Oren took that to mean this wizard was famous. He smiled slightly, thinking that must be a good sign for his future. He immediately felt guilty and thought of his home and his sister. He hadn't been allowed to return there to say goodbye or to pack. Though, he hadn't asked. His new master seemed friendly but stern, and he didn't think he'd appreciate being asked foolish questions. Oren had been silent the entire trip so far, except when asked a few things about his past. He told the wizard he was an orphan, and that his name was Oren Lane. The wizard checked if he was related to the mine owners and if they'd be missing him, and he confirmed that they would not. Adani beckoned Oren towards him and walked into the inn.

It didn't seem very busy, it was clear the innkeeping was a side business to whatever these people usually did. They only had two rooms, and one was occupied. The woman inside took the wizard's colourful coat and apologized for being so busy, and eyed Oren. "Is he... your, uh, is he with you?" She stumbled over the words, not wanting to imply anything. She avoided the wizard's piercing gaze, sure he would curse her if she said the wrong thing, but desperate to uphold the pretense of friendliness with her frequent customer. He only smiled and said, "Yes. As a matter of fact, do you know much about children? How old would you say this one is? He doesn't appear to know his own birth date." She looked the boy up and down and said "...Seven? Maybe Eight. It's hard to tell, he's a little..skinny." She immediately regretting the implication that the wizard's care was anything less than ideal. He cocked his head to the side, examining Oren as well. "Perhaps you could outfit him with some new clothes while we stay. And whatever else a child needs. He only has what he carries. I've only just found him like this." The wizard casually handed her five gold and walked to the dining room, Oren following obediently.

After eating the best dinner he had ever eaten in his life, Oren was taken upstairs. There, the innkeeper set down a basket full of clothing. "These ought to fit him, but he'll probably grow out of them soon. My boys were growing every day at that age." The wizard nodded and gestured for her to leave, and she did so quietly, shutting the door behind her. Oren reached into the basket to consider the new clothing. Adani watched him and said, "These are for you, Oren. You need to take care of these things, do you understand?" Oren nodded. He pulled out a toy and examined it curiously. It was a cup on a stick, with a ball attached to it by a string. The wizard saw that Oren was confused and pointed at the ball, saying, "It's a game. You're supposed to get the ball into the cup." Oren took the ball in his hand and placed it into the cup, looking confused. He was surprised when his new master laughed at this. "Very clever, but I don't think that's how it works." He stood and walked into the bathroom, again beckoning Oren to follow.

He first took a pair of scissors and quickly gave the boy a simple, short haircut. He combed through the remaining hair and grimaced as he noticed the lice. Adani casually conjured warm water into a tub and helped Oren into the bath, handing him soap. While he washed off all traces of his previous life as a hopeless peasant, the old man prepared a tonic and rubbed it into his tangled hair. He tossed the cut hair and the old clothes into a bin and left him to bathe. Oren sat in silence in the tub for a long time before climbing out and drying himself with a towel. He put on the new clothes and went out into the bedroom.

The wizard was seated in a comfy chair near the fire, reading from a small book. Oren considered his options, unsure what was expected of him. Nobody had cared for him so well since before his father died, so he decided it would be best to be kind. He didn't know what an apprentice was, but he expected it was a little bit like a son, or at least like a nephew. Maybe the old man was just lonely and tired of traveling with nobody to talk to. Oren climbed into the chair beside the wizard and tried to examine the book he was reading. "Can you read?" asked the wizard. Oren shook his head, but continued running his eyes over the pages, trying to figure it out. "What's it about?" he asked, hoping to hear the story within the book's pages. His sister had told him their mother used to read to her. He expected an adventure with heroes and dragons, but the wizard scoffed at the question. "Just a dead fool stating things everybody knows, and thinking he's wiser than the rest of us for figuring it out." He flipped the book closed and showed Oren the cover. In large letters it was titled, 'Before the Elyde.'

Oren could only make out a few of the letters. He decided it was important to show this impressive knowledge to the man, if only to secure a few more hot meals before he realized his mistake in selecting Oren. He pointed a finger at the B and said, 'buh.' The man smiled and said, "That's right, B. How do you know that one but not the others?" The boy proudly smiled and replied, "Buh-utcher and buh-aker, it's on the signs," as though it was obvious. He blushed and tried to look away, embarrassed by his pride. But the wizard only seemed entertained by this. "Good, well if you figured that out perhaps you really are clever. Didn't anyone ever teach you to read?" Oren thought about how to answer that. If he had no lessons, knowing any letters meant he was clever. But being well-bred and educated was important, too. "M-my mother could read," he said, "and she taught m'sister some. But not lots, and I only learned my name." He quickly pointed at the middle of the title and said "That's my name." The wizard was quiet for a few moments, trying to understand what the boy meant. He finally asked, "What do you mean, that's your name?" Oren awkwardly considered dropping it but he didn't want to look stupid. He slowly placed his hand over the first three letters of 'before' and used his other hand to cover part of 'the.' Adani smiled and laughed, finally understanding what he was trying to say. "Yes, of course. Well, sort of. I suppose that makes sense." He mussed the boy's hair and opened the book. "Can ye read it to me?" asked Oren quietly. "Please?" Flipping back to the beginning of the book, Adani noted Oren's accent, though his grammar wasn't as bad as most mountain folk he had met. ''Perhaps his mother taught him how to speak properly. And those manners.'' He began to read from the book, telling a brief history of the time before the Elyde took over. Oren didn't know what the Elyde were, but things were good before they arrived. The book was about a noble king, his knights, and ladies and bad guys. It was an adventure story like he had expected, except in the end the villains won.

Westbridge
Westbridge is a tiny village to the northeast of Ushad, surrounded by farms and several large estates. The town is notably orc-free. Beside the town is the large stone bridge for which it is named. The small river it crosses feeds south, eventually leading into the Sages' River. There are many small shops and a marketplace where locals come to sell their wares on certain days.

The town was founded hundreds of years ago, though nobody knows exactly when. Back then the river was much larger and the local farmers could easily ship their goods downstream towards larger trading cities. As the river shrank over the years, the trade died down and the farmers began using roads and carts to bring their crops to markets. Still, the large bridge and the remarkable tower made sure the village never completely disappeared. It is rarely referenced in any history books as no prominent events have ever taken place here that anyone knows of. It continues to exist as it always has- a waypoint for travelers and a forum for local farmers.

The surrounding area is almost entirely farmland and all of it supports the cities of Ushad and Tezef. There are several estates nearby where a few wealthy landowners reside. It isn't the most scenic of areas in Iquai but the land is inexpensive and its people are often ignored by the Elyde due to being so remote. Because of this, the area provides a retreat from society for several former members of the nobility and gentry.

Most of the town itself consists of homes, shops, and workshops for various artesans. There are a few notable structures within the township. The bridge for which the town is named lies, predictably, to the west of town. It is a large, old bridge made of stone. It was clearly made long ago when the river was much larger here. Across the bridge stands a tall stone tower with a large black window near the top. A tall ivy coated fence keeps the villagers from peering into the garden of the tower. The large wooden door can only be opened by the Wizard who resides inside. Potions and healing spells can be purchased from the Wizard for high prices.

It was in this magnificent tower that Oren would spend the next fifteen years.

18 Laphone, 7414 AC
Oren was amazed at the large stone bridge and the immense stone tower that stood across it. As they pulled up to the ivy-covered fence the gate opened on its own and the horses passed through it. The gate closed behind them as they traveled past the tower and around to the stables. After putting the horses away the wizard brought him inside the tower. There was a large foyer with torches already lit, and two doors: one to his right, which he would later find was the apothecary, and one across the room, the infirmary. To the left a stone staircase wound up around the room into the ceiling. The pair ascended and beyond these stairs they found a large open area. On one side, a decorated living space with chairs and sofas and expensive rugs encircling a small table and a hearth. Above the carved mantle hung a landscape of some forest. On the left side of the floor was a kitchen, separated from the living area by a counter and stools. To each side of the kitchen was a door, both leading into a long adjacent dining room, lit by stained glass windows. Oren tried to peer into the room but quickly sprinted after Adani, who was disappearing into an arched doorway on the far side of the room.

Beyond this portal was a tightly coiled metal stairway leading upwards. At the landing Oren saw a room to his right, with a hint of the setting sunlight coming around the corner, hinting at a window he couldn't see. To the left, the tower extended into an immense library, with tapestries and shelves and an endless supply of books. He could only see a fraction of it but the ladders and the dusty mist let Oren finally realize that the geography of the tower truly was impossible. He followed his new master up another spiral of stairs, trying to take in the illogical architecture, when they finally came to a hallway. A dozen doors lined the corridor, with one carved and ornate door at the far end up a small set of steps. At the second door on the left, Adani stopped and thought for a moment. It was the first time Oren had seen him hesitate in a decision, but before he could reflect on what that might mean the man opened the door and walked in, again waving his fingers at Oren to call him forward. He stepped aside and presented him with a bedroom larger than any room Oren had ever seen. "This will be your room. Keep it tidy, and take care of your things. I'll see you in the morning, unless you want dinner?" Oren sat down his basket of things beside a dresser and looked around, then turned and shook his head. He had already been given what he considered a large meal at noon as they rode, and couldn't imagine needing more food than that. As his master left him alone, he cautiously began to examine the room. There was a bed big enough for a whole family to share, and shiny wooden furniture, and patterns on the wall. There was a bathroom like the inns all had, though this one was much larger and had a huge tub he could easily swim in. The faucets provided hot or cold water, and he spent the rest of the evening playing with them and figuring out how everything worked. After a few hours of splashing and eventually swimming, he dried off and got dressed for bed, almost struggling to climb onto it. He laid back and watched the sparkling chimes all along the ceiling move gently in the candlelight until he fell asleep.

29 Tholin, 7415 AC
The next months were spent with Adani desperately trying to feed his new ward enough to not be quite so skinny, and teaching him how to read, and to speak and hold a fork properly. It wasn't long before the boy was permitted to roam the tower and the massive library on his own, and was encouraged to read and learn anything he could. A few books which weren't safe for the eyes of children were tucked away in his private quarters, but beyond that no information was forbidden. The wizard would leave him alone for weeks at a time, and Oren could do whatever he liked- except leave. During these early years Oren barely stepped foot into the garden, and only under the watchful eyes of his master.

Most days Adani spent his time sitting and reading quietly, while encouraging Oren to do the same. Oren was surprisingly patient and reserved for a child, and always did exactly as he was told. They sat in the room just off the library, at the long table, each with a book in hand. Incense burned off to the side somewhere, and there was hot tea to drink. The wizard was leaning back in his chair peacefully, but Oren was out of his chair, sitting on the floor, staring out the massive window at the end of the room. "They're in the river." Oren said, without explaining his pronouns. Adani calmly replied, "Who do you mean?" without looking up. Oren rolled his eyes a little and said in an exasperated tone, "how should I know? They're in the river though" and pointed. Adani didn't get up. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked in an even tone, not irritated or curious, hoping Oren would learn on his own not to waste his time with trivial nonsense and get to the point. "Maybe they're swimming." Oren continued to avoid asking what he wanted to ask, but at least his master knew what he was getting at. Still, he refused to indulge him until he asked properly. This continued for several minutes before Oren finally mustered up the courage to ask, "May I go swimming in the river?" Adani considered it for half a minute before replying- "I don't think that's a good idea." No matter how hard he tried, Oren could never convince his master to let him go down to the river, or the farms, or the town. He never let him go anywhere, except the garden. Oren thought about that. "May I go to the pond? In the garden?" He smiled and waited for permission. "To swim?" was the only reply he received. There was a long silence as Oren considered pushing his luck, but then opted for the more attainable choice. "Just to sit by it. I promise I won't mess it up." His master sighed and relented, "Don't touch the fish or the plants. Don't stay outside for long. And don't leave the garden."

Oren sprinted from the room and down the steps, through the living room, and was halfway down the stone steps when he saw movement outside the small windows lining the front door. He crept down and peered out carefully, although he knew they couldn't see in. There were several men in cloaks, despite the heat, and a large armoured orc. Oren knew the orcs were the police back home, but he hadn't seen one since they arrived in Westbridge. He stared at the men as they entered the gate, trying to figure out their purpose, when he was startled by footsteps behind him. "Master, there are people!" He pointed at the window. "I know. Go out past them after they enter and wait in the garden until I come to find you. Be quick." The wizard opened the door casually and Oren pressed himself against the wall, watching them walk past him. He waited until they were clear and slipped out stealthily, unaware of his temporary invisibility. He passed through the garden's gate and ran down the ramp, hidden from the courtyard's view.

He reached the pond out of breath. It was a warm summer day, but the water was cool when he touched it. He carefully avoided disturbing the white lotus flowers that grew on the surface. The little colourful fish swam around his fingers before realizing he wasn't food. He sat on the ground, leaning on the stone ledge lining the pond, just barely dipping his fingers beneath the surface and wondering about what just happened. Those men made him nervous, but as he thought about it he realized they were probably just customers, and his master wanted to look professional. He calmed down and instantly everything seemed alright. He got what he wanted, and his master would be pleased with him for being so quick earlier. Even the fish weren't mad at him this time. They usually seemed so agitated when he touched the water. He considered that he had been asked not to touch the water in the past, but he didn't care. As long as he didn't jump in he was being good, and nobody would ever know if he dried his fingers off before going inside. He rested his head on the edge of the pond, using his arm as a pillow.

Hours after Oren had dozed off, his master found him there, fingers still in the pool, peacefully dreaming. He touched the boy's shoulder and as his blue eyes opened sleepily Adani raised an eyebrow, then looked at the water. Oren closed his eyes and fell back asleep easily, and barely felt his master caress his hair and carry him inside.

Life in the Tower
Aside from visiting customers, and the magnificent view out the massive window near the top of the tower, Oren had no real contact with the outside world for years. Almost every fortnight, a stranger or two would come by looking to buy a potion or a spell. Sometimes they needed healing, sometimes some ointment or special tea, sometimes they needed scrying or divination or a curse. The wizard sold these things for high prices, and as he became older and more educated Oren was permitted to help with customers and preparing their orders. He was allowed to sometimes harvest from the garden and mix reagents. He often watched his master perform powerful rituals to help people. He mostly counted the money and answered the door.

Oren had a few jobs assigned to him during his master's many voyages out into the world. He was initially tasked with keeping the tower tidy and dusting. As his handwriting perfected he was allowed to copy old, valuable tomes. The wizard taught him the art of Illumination and allowed him to create exquisite manuscripts to be sold out in the world for excessive amounts of gold. Oren was not entirely aware of this aspect of his chore, and enjoyed being useful and having something to do. He was also allowed to help customers alone once he was 'twelve or thirteen.' When he heard a knock at the door and his master wasn't home he was instructed to check the window and only open it if it appeared to be safe. He knew nobody could pass through the portal, even if the door was open, without his permission. Every customer was asked for a name and what their visit was concerning, and most were helped at the door, with money and potions being pushed over the threshold with a basket on a rod. Oren would always apologize for the inconvenience, as it was obviously a strange setup. But his master had told him to do it this way for his own safety, and he obeyed.

The trips Adani took were usually concluded within a month, but every now and then he would be gone for much longer. Sometimes Oren was alone for two or three months, and he spent his days in quiet solitude watching the world from his window. He would sit on the floor, staring out at the field beyond the road. He would watch the harvest slowly pour across the crop, and the field would change colours as the farmhands systematically worked through it. Sometimes he could see people on the road, or crossing the bridge, or in the river. He couldn't quite see the town, or the sun setting or rising, but he could see the sky change colours and the distant forest glow.

Though Oren tried desperately to learn as much as he could about alchemy, artifice, and divination he could only do so much without access to actual magic. Anyone can learn the art of Cleromancy or figure out how to combine herbs into enchanted medicines. He could activate the magic in some existing items and call up different effects when following a specific ritual, but even the most basic Arcana was impossible. Adani told him to keep studying arcane lore and to learn to do other forms of magic, and that greater magic would come to him one day. But the more Oren read about natural mages, the more frustrated he became. It took a lot of time for him to cope with the shame he felt over not being able to cast spells, but his master hardly seemed to mind. Oren pushed himself to learn more, and to ignore his ambitions and be patient. He tried to remember his master's reassurances whenever he thought about it, and before long the vexation he felt was suppressed. Ignoring his desires had always been second nature for him, and he easily hid his feelings on the matter from Adani.

The easiest way to forget his shortcomings was to practice other arts, as his master had suggested. Making potions, divining, helping with rituals, healing injured visitors with basic first aid, mixing medicine, and telling fortunes were all quickly mastered. Oren found himself helping customers without the wizard around on a regular basis, and soon grew accustomed to working as a medic. He was no expert, but he could stitch wounds. Within the library he found books containing information on surgery, first aid, and other medical knowledge. He successfully treated the ill and injured and quickly gained a reputation as a skilled healer, despite having no access to magic. The town of Westbridge lacked any magical healers so they were very pleased to have a kind, gentle doctor who would treat patients without any repayment. Of course this ended as soon as his master heard about it.

7 Tholary, 7420 AC
"What do you mean you took care of it?" Oren was deliberately facing away from Adani, organizing some organized medical tools. "You helped a patient? What exactly what wrong with him?" Oren could sense the irritation in his words, though he was always striving to be neutral and calm; the direct, blunt questions made it clear when he was truly unhappy. Oren carefully chose his words, "He just needed stitches, so I did it. It wasn't serious so I didn't want to bother you." "Oren," Adani sighed, "You realize I can heal with magic, right? There was no need to waste medicine or your time on such a simple thing. A healing spell for something that simple takes seconds. And his pain and risk of infection disappear. Why bother stitching up a wound?" There was a long pause, and then the boy replied- "I wanted to practice." Adani didn't have a good way to scold him for that. He's too clever, he shouldn't be able to be so glib while being so contrite. It irritated Adani that his apprentice could so easily deflect any conversation and end an argument in a second. He tried to think of some reason why what Oren did was wrong, but he couldn't come up with one. He started to leave, defeated, and then remembered. "How much did you charge him?" He knew Oren would never demand payment from anyone, not unless the price was set and he had been ordered to do so. Oren stopped what he was doing and Adani knew he was right, as the boy quietly said, "Oh... I didn't. He said it was simple and he didn't need any real treatment, so.. I thought, since I'm not a professional.. he said he didn't have the money to pay you, so, I..." He trailed off and awkwardly shifted where he stood, his back still facing the door. Adani smiled slightly, glad to finally know what really happened. Still, he didn't want to crush the boy's excitement over his successful treatment of a patient. "Well, it's alright if you want to practice. However, you really need to charge people. Even if it's just a few gold. You can't let them take advantage of you." As he climbed the stone stairs, he hoped Oren understood his concern and would take care in the future.

30 Silium, 7421 AC
He had insisted Oren be paid. He had warned him not to be taken advantage of. He set a price for the treatments, and even told the Mayor of Westbridge to enforce it. After all of this, Oren couldn't allow someone to get treatment for free. Even if he did seem nice. The man smiled and asked again, "So... other than gold... isn't there some way we can settle this debt? Everett claimed you were a smart, kind lad." Everett was the mayor. He was nice, and always complimented Oren. He came by now and then to show deference to Adani. "I think he has a crush on me," he had said, though Oren suspected it to be a joke. Oren rolled his eyes at the mention of this mayor, whom incidentally he disliked.

Everett Moss had been a wealthy man in Westbridge for many years before Oren arrived. It wasn't until five years later that he became the mayor and moved into a fine manor house in town. He took a large portion of his wealth from the tenant farmers on his extensive property as well as from taxes throughout the area. As a result he was quite well off compared to his neighbors, and was a bit smug about it. Oren didn't like him, he saw him as an ordinary middle class man playing at being nobility. He remembered the way the rich folks back home had been, and he saw the same behavior in Everett, and now in this man.

Thinking about it, the patient before him seemed to be quite wealthy. Poorer folks than this had paid him for his services, though admittedly he charged them less, usually. But this was a complicated case, and Oren felt the 40 gold fee was reasonable. "You're a man of business, doesn't money work the way I think it does?" Oren had been told not to be taken advantage of. He was very cautious, as he knew himself to be naive and wanted to obey his master's very clear instruction. He stood, trying to look confident, waiting for the man to reply. "That's true. But.. wouldn't you prefer goods? I could bring you the payment in the form of some items. I'm in trade and can get you something worth more than the gold. Besides, where are you going to spend it?" This seemed fair to Oren. His master wasn't home, so he needed to make the decision alone. He thought for a while, though he had made up his mind already. He slowly nodded and said, "that would be acceptable." in his most professional sounding voice. He spoke with no accent now, his master having trained it out of him. To anyone meeting him he came off as a well-born educated young man, very polite, very reserved, and sensible. But to the arrogant merchant before him, he only appeared to be a foolish boy who didn't understand the value of a gold piece. The man smiled and thanked Oren before leaving. For a moment, he considered never coming back- the boy hadn't even gotten it in writing. But he knew Everett would make a fuss, and who knows if that wizard really can curse people. The merchant returned home and prepared a delivery of a crate of ten bolts of fine, patterned silk. He tossed in a pair of earrings he couldn't sell and considered the debt paid.

2 Lora, 7421 AC
There was a knock at the door. Oren tore down the stairs and stopped before the door to carefully open it. The mayor's wife stood outside, and beside her were two young men carrying a crate. Mrs. Moss seemed kind enough, though he had only met her once before. She had mentioned a daughter Oren's age, and he wished he could ask to meet her if only to have someone his own age to talk to. But he never did ask. Coincidentally, Oren had just turned 'fourteen or fifteen,' and had barely spoken to any girls, but he knew he wanted to get some practice. The only woman he ever spoke to was the baker in town, a woman named Jane. When his master was feeling kind, he allowed Oren to go order a pie. Later that night, Jane would deliver it. Though, Oren wasn't allowed to have any and was always told to go to bed. A thousand possible ways to inquire about the girl crossed his mind, but instead he just said "Hello, Mrs. Moss." She gave a slight curtsy and smiled. "Hello, Oren, is it? This came for you, dear, and I just wanted to see that you got it on behalf of Mr. Aldridge." The men stepped forward and Oren waved his hand slightly, indicating that they had his permission to enter. They placed the crate in the foyer and left. Mrs. Moss nodded and began to leave without another word. Inside the crate was a layer of coconut fiber and tissue paper. Beneath it lay enough fabric to cover the large window. Oren thought of the possibilities, but then decided to wait. He couldn't sew well enough to make anything, and he didn't want to waste it. He decided to wait until he was too big to outgrow anything he made, and to have it made properly. He spent the rest of the afternoon carrying the crate all the way to his room, and stashing it in a closet. He stood above his prize and grinned, happy that he hadn't been taken advantage of.

As he began to close the closet door he caught a glimpse of light shining in the crate. He reopened the door and looked closer, finding a small earring. After a half hour of searching through the tissue and silk, he found the other. They were delicate and subtle, simple gold studs that formed a small round, flat hint of gold when worn. But the backing was much more intricate, with three thin blue gems striking out, attached by thin threads of gold, the gems just barely visible from behind the wearer’s ear. Placing them on the vanity in the bathroom, he was resolved to make these a regular addition to his wardrobe. He ran downstairs, collected a needle, some ice, and some iodine, and returned to the bathroom. This will probably hurt. He held the ice to his ear for a minute, and grimaced slightly before stabbing himself through the numbed earlobe. He cleaned the wound and attached the correct earring and admired himself, though the blood quickly ruined the effect. He winced and repeated the exercise on the other ear. Before going to sleep he laid a towel over his pillow to prevent any blood from ruining the linens. His ears ached for days.

17 Lora, 7421
For the second time in a month, Oren had a visitor.

He sat in the room near the library, leaning on the big window. The smell of incense rose through the air, infecting the pages of every book in the room. Whenever he read, he lit incense; because that was what his master did. Whenever he needed to stretch; he would fetch himself some hot tea, because making tea was something to do. He was reading a book on curing diseases, because he wanted to know everything about medical treatments, and you never know what sort of sick person will walk up to the door. The pages turned. Over half his life had been spent in this tower, and being alone was part of that. He lowered the book and glanced outside the window, wondering when his master would return.

As he lifted his tea to his lips he spotted something beyond the fence. He gazed at the shadows until he realized it was two people, crouching close to the gate, barely visible through the ivy from this angle. He set down his cup and walked downstairs. Through the small window by the door he could more clearly see: two young girls, close to his age, perhaps a little older. One had pale yellow hair, the other's was tan with streaks from being in the sun. They were likely local peasants, and they were whispering as the blonde pushed the gate open. He watched them approach the door. They stood on the step debating something for several minutes, while Oren watched them from the window, unsure about opening the door before they knocked, but hoping they would do so soon.

From outside the window was black, and the girls didn't realize they had been spotted. "What if he's home?" asked the brunette. "He's not! Everyone knows he's not. If he were home, people would know." Oren could hear parts of this conversation and was sure they wanted to see his master. He hoped he could help them instead, and that they'd stay and talk to him for a little while. He liked chatty customers, even a few minutes of conversation was a blessing.

The blonde finally got up the courage to knock on the large wooden door. Oren was startled momentarily, then smoothed his hair and calmly opened the door. "Hello, how can I help you?" he asked, trying to sound professional. The brunette said, "Hello," as the blonde quickly asked, "Are you home alone? We'd like to see the inside of your tower." Oren looked inside nervously, wondering if that was a good idea. "Do you um, have business here or..?" The blonde replied, "we just want a tour! Please? It'll only take a second." He shook his head quickly, "I'm sorry, I don't.. think that's a good idea." Before the blonde could make another attempt, her friend simply asked- "What about the garden?"

There was a long pause before Oren slowly nodded. "I think that might be alright. But... I'd have to go with you." The brunette smiled, "Of course." The blonde grinned and decided to push for more. "How about a drink? We walked such a long way, all the way from Chesterton! And maybe some lunch. Do you have any food? We could come inside or..." catching a look from her friend, "Maybe a picnic! You could put all the food in a basket, and some wine, and come eat with us out in the garden! Wouldn't you like that?" She moved her hip out slightly in an attempt at seduction. Oren was already on board with the plan, and wasn't looking at her anyway. He nodded and said, "wait here."

He emerged from the tower with a large basket of food. He had to wait for the table to summon meals one by one, and tried to pick foods that the girls would like and could eat in the garden without the need for plates and utensils. Only his master could request specific foods, so Oren had to let fate decide what was for dinner typically. He tossed two bottles of expensive wine into the basket as well, along with a few cups and napkins. He hurried down to the courtyard where the girls were waiting and shut the door behind him. He walked over to the locked gate that separated the garden from the courtyard and pushed it open easily. The girls were amazed at this, as they had tried the gate while he was gone to no avail. As they walked down the incline into the garden, he said "My name is Oren. What's your... names?" He thought about the grammar of that as he walked ahead of them, and they giggled slightly, exchanging a few glances before the blonde replied, "I'm Lily. This is.. Ivy." They giggled again. Oren wondered if they were fake names due to their surroundings, but he realized it didn't matter.

He set the basket down by the greenhouse and turned to face them, just as Ivy began touching a plant. "Don't. Some of these are dangerous." He didn't say 'delicate,' as he didn't want to offend them. And some of them were dangerous. The girls smiled at this, "Can you show us around? Tell us which plants are which?" Oren tried to hide his smile and agreed, taking them on an extensive tour of the large garden with explanations of each plant as they asked. They were curious about the uses, and he made sure to point out some of the rare and useful plants. The girls stopped when he pointed out the Hawkweed. "It cures fevers, doesn't it?" asked Lily too-enthusiastically. Oren nodded, "I think so." That sounded right, but he had never used the herb himself. He knew it was rare, and that it had some purpose. Lily grinned and quickly composed herself as Ivy gave her a look fraught with significance. They continued the tour quickly, glancing back only a few times and smiling at each other.

After nearly an hour of walking, Lily led them back to the basket and lifted it up saying, "Now that we know where everything is, let's eat." She smiled at Ivy as Oren took the basket from her. She gestured to the greenhouse, "Can we eat in there? I don't like eating outside." He pushed open the door and held his arm out for them to enter first. The girls walked over to a clear spot on the floor and sat down, and Oren began setting out the food and wine. The girls ate the food eagerly and Lily chatted the whole time. Oren sat and listened to her stories, feeling blessed. He had never done anything like this, and Lily was the most talkative person he had ever met. After they ate, he cleaned up the food, and the girls refilled the cups with wine while whispering. "Let's play a game!" Lily practically shouted and giggled, while Ivy just smiled and nodded. "What game?" asked Oren. He didn't know many games. He had played some games years ago with his sister, but he didn't think he could remember them well enough to play now, and solitaire required cards and wasn't really a three-player game. Luckily, the girls had a few suggestions.

"Ok, so," Lily started, "the rules are- we each have a cup of wine, and we take turns saying something we can do. Or something you've done that's interesting. Then, everyone who can do it or has done the thing takes a drink! It's fun, I promise." Ivy nodded again and said, "It's more fun than it sounds, please play it with us." Pleading eyes looked up at Oren and he immediately sat back down to join them, smiling. "Of course I'll play." The girls grinned, and Lily started. "I can drink wine," she said smugly. Ivy laughed lightly and took a small sip, then looked to Oren as he did the same. Ivy thought for a moment and took her turn. "I can ride a horse." Oren took another drink, and Lily did not. For his turn, Oren wanted to impress them. She had said to say something interesting, but he didn't want to brag. So he said, "I can read." Neither girl drank, and he felt a little guilty. Before he could say anything else, Lily blurted out "I can.... make tea!" The girls leaned in, waiting patiently to see if Oren drank, and he did. Ivy did not. She smiled at Lily, "I have.... kissed a girl." Oren didn't drink, and Lily giggled and leaned in to kiss him quickly on the lips. "Now you have to drink!" He blushed and took a larger sip than necessary, looking away. The game continued for a while this way, with the girls saying things that Oren had obviously done, and Oren saying things he thought were interesting. Of course, even if the girls had used a telescope, they would have pretended not to.

After both bottles of wine were empty and Oren was suitably drunk, Lily took a bottle and suggested a different game. She set the bottle in the middle of them and spun it, explaining the rules. "Whoever it points to, you have to kiss!" It slowed and stopped, pointing at Oren. He smiled and leaned in, and this time she kissed him much more passionately. He was surprised but tried to hide his excitement. The girls giggled and Ivy spun. It pointed in between Oren and Lily, but both girls agreed that meant she should kiss Oren. This ruse continued for about five minutes before the girls had him on his back, taking turns kissing him deeply. Lily moved down and began and undo his belt, and he sat up slightly and tried to stop her, but Ivy pushed him down with another kiss. He slowly put his arms around her, and tried to ignore Lily as she climbed on top of him.

The sun had set when Oren opened his eyes. He looked around the greenhouse and wasn't very surprised to find the girls had left him there. There were empty bottles of wine and a basket full of uneaten food nearby. He glanced down and saw they had halfheartedly pulled his pants closed, and stood up to correct his disheveled appearance. He cleaned up the mess and set the room right before walking out into the night. Almost immediately he saw that the gate leading out was open. He walked around the garden, calling out for them, and saw that one of the plants had been ripped out of the ground. He sighed. That's not even how to harvest them, they'll just die anyway.

He frantically tried to minimize the damage to the garden before confirming they had indeed left. He closed the gates and went inside the tower to put away the basket. He wasn't sure if he was upset with them, and wondered if they would be back. Probably not, they got what they wanted. He considered his feelings and decided he didn't really mind. They had tricked him, but it was still a pretty good day for him. He immediately dreaded the idea of his master finding out, and decided to omit what happened in the end. ''Maybe I can say they knocked me out, or that they tricked me. He'll believe that part.'' He sighed dramatically and fell back onto the sofa and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep again.

Weeks later, Adani Pender walked through his garden. He stared at a conspicuously empty spot where he had once known a Hawkweed plant to be. "Oren," he called out. He looked over at the pond where his apprentice sat, gently touching the water. His hand shot back up away from the surface as he heard his name. He turned and looked at Adani and tried badly to hide his fear as he saw where he was standing. "Yes? What? I mean, um.." he looked around nonchalantly, Adani raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Where has this plant gone? There used to be a herb here called Hawkweed. You remember it, don't you?" Oren looked back at the pond and lied, "No." His master sighed and decided to ignore it. Hawkweed was only good for feeding to livestock, it seemed, and its medicinal properties had long since been proven to be myth.

18 Salea, 7422 AC
"You need to focus on the ripples, they're just as important as the stones." Adani fished out the three pebbles from the bowl of water and handed them to Oren, drying his hand on a cloth. Oren waited for the water to settle before trying again. Before him on the table were three small shells, and beneath one was an earring. The space was usually reserved for preparing medicine and reagents, but today it was being used for Cleromancy, a form of divination. "Some people liked to throw lots into the bowl," he was told, "but you may not always have them. This method is much more versatile and pure. Never take a shortcut with things like this, or you'll miss something." Oren held his breath and tossed the pebbles into the bowl carefully. He stared at the bowl, trying to read the ripples and bubbles, and to draw some meaning from each pebble's location at the bottom. He sighed and reached out to touch a shell. Flipping it, he found the earring and was wary, wondering if it was just chance. Adani smiled, "There, you'll get the hang of it now that you know what to look for. Just keep practicing while I'm gone. Try to guess what day I'll be back." Putting the earring back on, Oren wondered aloud, "You're leaving?" "Not today, but soon. I can't be here forever." Oren stifled a sigh and opted not to ask the reason for him leaving. He never tells me anything. He stood to return the shells to their drawer.

Beside the shells' home he found a stone used in scrying. "Can you teach me this?" he asked, holding it up. "Sorry, Oren," his master began, predictably. "Certain items and rituals require a source of aether within the caster. Until you harness your own aether and learn to focus it into spells, you won't be able to activate it." Oren set down the stone and pushed the drawer closed. "Well, can you teach me to do that?" His voice was a little more demanding than he had intended, but he was incredibly frustrated at his master's lack of information on spellcasting. He had been in the tower for almost ten years and he had hardly heard a word on the subject except to insult typical mages. Mages, he had said, were lazy people who fell into their gift and squander it on simple things like creating light and healing cuts. They used it to push non-mages around, often being employed as guards and assassins. Oren had tried to argue then too, pointing out that the wizard used his magic to create light and heal cuts, but he was only told that the respect for the aether is what mattered. Of course it didn't matter how much Oren respected magic and aether, it didn't matter if he prayed to The Maker or read thousands of books if the master wizard before him didn't tell him the secret to spellcasting. Adani leaned forward in his chair and replied, "No." He stood, walked to the door, and said, "You need to be patient. You're very good at that, try to use that temperance to endure the things you can't change." Oren knew he was right, but he felt furious. He wanted to shout at his master, but he just watched him walk out. That night, Oren watched as the wizard led the horses out of the gate, leaving Westbridge for what would be a substantial trip.

19 Alin, 7423 AC
There was a knock at the door, and Oren considered not answering it. He rolled over, exhausted, and tried to look out the window. From his vantage point on the floor, he couldn't see much. He laid back and sighed. His master had been gone for months, and though he had done as he was told and predicted his return would be this week, he doubted it was true. Cleromancy isn't real magic. It had been a few minutes since the knock when Oren finally rose. He hadn't slept in days, and had been drinking more wine than usual today in an attempt to remedy this. He stumbled over a few books and leaned on the door frame to tidy his clothing, pulling his ornate silk robe up onto his shoulders and tucking his shirt in. The robe had been made by a local tailor whose son had been sick, from silk Oren had received from another patient almost five years ago. It had large pockets on the sides, and long baggy sleeves that barely showed his fingers. The hem stopped a few inches above his knees, making the robe quite warm and comfortable to wear around the tower. He felt his ears and wondered where his earrings were, and started a slow descent to the foyer.

There was another knock just as Oren was opening the door. The woman standing there jumped back slightly and apologized. "I'm sorry, I was.. that is, I'd like to buy some medicine." Oren held the door open for her and she entered. "What kind of medicine?" he asked, careful not to let his accent slip as it occasionally did when he drank too much. "Tea. Um... you know.. to, uh, bring on my... monthly..." Before she finished explaining he turned away and walked through the door to her right. He riffled through a drawer in the large cabinet and came back out with a small muslin bag of dried herbs. "Soak it in hot water like tea for a few minutes, then drink it. It'll taste bad and you'll feel sick for a day or so. It's two gold." She nervously took the satchel and considered offering something else as a form of payment, as she had heard was accepted here from her mother's friend, but she got the feeling Oren wasn't in the mood for company. She pulled out two gold in small change and offered it to him. "Thank you." He sounded exhausted and annoyed, so she quickly left.

He returned to his favourite spot by the window and looked over the books he had been reading earlier. Despite all of his research he hadn’t found any reliable cure for toxemia, except to catch it months in advance and terminate the pregnancy. The woman who had been brought to him three days ago had been showing symptoms for weeks, but her husband either didn’t notice or didn’t think it was a problem. Finally her mother and sister had come by when her labour started and realized something was wrong. The only midwife in the area was hours away, so they brought her to the tower. Oren had delivered babies before, and that part went just fine. But he could tell just by looking at the woman that she wouldn’t make it. He did everything you’re supposed to do, but sometimes there’s just nothing that can be done. Patients had died before in his care, but this was different.

He leaned against the window and thought about his home back in that small mining town, and how his mother must have died from the same disease. He only had his sister’s account of the day, but it seemed likely. For the first time in years, he felt homesick. All the happy memories of playing in the lake and running through the forests filled his head, until a gunshot rang out and he curled up, pulling his robe around his body and trying to forget again. He wondered if Aimee was married yet, or even alive. She’s the same age as them. He realized, thinking of the woman who died and the woman who bought the tea, and his own mother, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two when she died. She probably has children of her own by now, too. Though the woman with the tea probably didn’t have any. It seemed like a good idea not to, if you could die from it.

Thinking of Aimee made him wonder how his uncle was doing too, though the thought quickly made him realize he was still bitter about being sold. How could he do that? He didn’t even ask where I was going. He thought of the gold and decided it was unfair to judge his uncle for his actions, but he still felt sick about it. Why did he even buy me? He thought about his master, and how he had left so abruptly over three months ago. He didn’t even let me say goodbye. Oren wasn’t sure which goodbye he meant, but he was sure he was owed something. He closed his eyes, his stomach full of turmoil. He wondered how the woman’s baby would turn out, and tried and failed to sleep. He gazed out the window watching the rain and feeling miserable.

22 Nuvea, 7426 AC
After over a decade of conflicting emotions, Oren thought he was truly enjoying his life in the tower. He was at least nineteen and had no desire to leave. He was permitted to walk into town occasionally, and sit in the garden whenever he liked (as long as it wasn't raining) and he had everything he could ever want. He had fine clothes and jewelry, and ate delicious food every day. He could drink wine if he wanted, although he rarely did. There were plenty of patients traveling to Westbridge on a monthly basis, so he wasn’t nearly as alone as he had once been. One patient even sent his wife to cook for Oren, and she had prepared a delicious meal right in the kitchen with real food. Afterwards she sat with him by the fire and talked for hours before she abruptly kissed him. He didn’t want to be rude, so he let her do what she wanted, and in the morning she left him knowing a lot more about women. The main thing was to do whatever they asked and deny them nothing, and they’ll be happy. He wasn’t sure about the married part, but he hadn’t sworn any vows so he decided not to dwell on that. He was very good at forgetting about worries in that way.

Oren’s reputation in town was positive, unlike the wizard who invoked a sense of dread in most common-folk. The people knew that Oren was kind and polite, and easy to trick. He had no idea what his services were worth and would arbitrarily set prices, but could easily be talked into accepting gifts in lieu of payment. Pies and well-wishes were typical of the poorer customers, and an assortment of things had piled up in his bedroom over the years. Fine clothing, armour and weapons, a warm cloak, jewelry, and of course the occasional wife or daughter- though Oren wasn’t entirely aware that these things were payments, and likely would have been happier with an hour of conversation.

During this time he had mastered the art of medicine and was skilled at treating illnesses and injuries, and though he had many other talents this was what he considered his true profession. He had never figured out magic, and the sinking feeling he used to feel when he remembered that had been pushed so far into the back of his mind he now only felt numb when it came up. Oren was, as usual, seated in the room adjacent to the library; when suddenly there was a frantic knock at the door. He looked down and saw a large carriage and decided the matter required some urgency, so he set down his book and hurried to greet his visitor. At the door he found Everett Moss, mayor of Westbridge, looking panicked. “Mr. Lane, please, you’ve got to come with me.. it’s.. my, uh,” he looked back at the driver of the carriage and whispered “a woman is having a child and it’s going badly, please come help, you must be discrete.” Oren didn’t know what to say to that, so he went inside and took what he’d need.

Within minutes they were hurrying back to town. The Moss family lived in a large house right on the main road, up a short drive. Oren had never been in a real carriage like this, though it was a short distance and he wondered if it was really faster. The mayor rushed Oren in and pushed him into a bedroom, shutting the door. He found a dark haired young woman lying in bed, breathing heavily and sweating. Her large pregnant belly was covered with a sheet and her legs were open beneath it. She was clearly in more distress than usual. The girl couldn’t have been much older than Oren was, and Mrs. Moss was standing beside her stroking her hair and trying to soothe her. Oren walked over to examine her as the mayor began harping at him, “please, sir, you must save her. We thought it would be over by now but my wife says something is wrong.” Oren started to gently lift the sheet while apologizing, “Sorry, do you mind?” The woman didn’t seem to hear him, she had her eyes closed and appeared to be in pain, which made sense. Her mother looked at Oren with pleading eyes, “please, do what you must.” Everett angrily moved aside, to avoid seeing what was under the sheet. Oren quickly saw the problem, the baby was breech, and luckily he knew what to do. He wrapped a warm cloth around the baby as its mother pushed him out, and after several hours he fully removed the boy and helped him breathe. The infant cried and Oren pushed him into the mayor’s arms, despite his protests, and went back to the bleeding new mother to save her as well.

Both mother and child lived, much to Oren’s surprise. He tried to clean the woman’s blood off of her as Mrs. Moss took over. On the other side of the room, Mr. Moss rocked the sleeping baby in his arms. Oren washed his hands and started to leave when the mayor realized and asked, “How much do I owe you?” “Two patients should be twice as much, I suppose. And that took a while. How about one-hundred gold?” Oren had no idea what he was asking, but he knew that he was worth one-hundred gold. Why shouldn’t this man pay that much for his grand-son? Remember, Oren did not like Everett Moss and thought he was a rich snob. The mayor grew pale at the number and swallowed hard, wondering what he could even say to that. “I.. that’s..” there was no way to say it was too high a price for his daughter’s life without tempting the Maker to end it, so he just looked down at the baby and said, “I’ll see that you’re paid. Tell no one what happened here today. It was my wife who had a child, remember?” Oren nodded and was escorted out by a servant. He walked home, enjoying the cool night air. He was happy he finally got to meet their daughter. Though he never did ask her name.

3 Lora, 7427 AC
“Brie.” The woman was pretty, lithe, and had dark brown hair. Her eyes were dark, like chestnuts, and her cheeks were slightly pink. Oren suspected she was wearing rouge to achieve that, and admitted it was having the desired effect on him. “And you’re… Mr. Lane? Or is it Doctor?” He smiled and blushed, “Oren is fine.” He held open the door and she gracefully entered. “This place is lovely, will you show me around?” She smiled in a way that melted his heart. He would have jumped off the tower if she asked him with that smile. She started up the steps as he nodded, and she asked questions the whole way up. Each question was accompanied with a pause in her step and a demure look back at him, and he blushed every time. He walked behind her, trying not to stare directly up at her, and eventually they reached the living room. She sat on the sofa, despite having asked for a tour. “Well, Oren, tell me about that.” She pointed at the large skull mounted on the far wall, over the archway leading back to the stairs. “Oh, that’s the skull of a manticore.” He sat beside her where she patted the seat, and continued. “Manticores are like big cats with scorpion tails... and wings I think.” She smiled and leaned closer. “Fascinating.” He wondered how she knew what a scorpion was, and if she’d like a drink, and if she knew that her dress was slipping and he could see a lot of her chest when she leaned in like that. He was a bit taller than she was, so it made it easy to look down her dress, actually. Not that he was doing that, at least not deliberately.

She rested her head on his shoulder and he tried to look elsewhere and shifted slightly, hoping she wouldn’t notice how interested in her appearance he was. He wanted to be respectful, but it was hard to do that. He was usually so good at ignoring that a woman was attractive to him, always striving to treat women the same as if they were men. Until they kissed him, that is. He had never kissed a girl himself, it was much safer to let the women make all the first moves. So far it had worked out well. He had slept with four women, which he thought was pretty good. But he had never wanted to kiss a woman as badly as he did with Brie.

He realized he had already seen under her dress, but that was different. She had been having a baby, and it didn’t count at all. The thought of that night helped cull his lust for a moment, and Brie seemed to notice his sudden disinterest. She arched her back, stretching, and as he stared at her body he tried not to notice the narrow hips that had caused her so much trouble. “Not that I don’t love the idea of sitting here with you for hours learning about your magnificent home, but I did come here for a reason.” He felt embarrassed, though he wasn’t sure why. Of course she’s not here to see me. He tried to be casual, “And what reason is that?” She smiled and in a sweet voice said, “Well I know what you wish it was.” For a moment he sensed some reluctance, and her mood changed a little as she went on. “For one thing, I wanted to thank you. For everything. Benjy is doing really well, by the way. He can walk, a little. It’s... nice to have a brother. I’m an only child, you see. And, well, things weren’t going well for me and.. now everything is fine, thanks to you.” Oren smiled and nodded, “I’m glad I could help you.” She grinned sincerely and then looked down, awkwardly pushing her hair behind her ear before looking back up at Oren with another seductive smile. “You see, my father wanted me to… handle the debt. He owes you money, I suppose and… well, since it was for me he thought I could come talk to you about it.” Oh right, how much did I even ask for? Oren was determined to make Mr. Moss pay- not Brie. “I don’t expect it all upfront, he can pay me whenever he has the money, or a little bit at a time.” That sounded fair when Oren said it, but Brie looked a little disappointed.

She suggested an arrangement, “Maybe I could bring you a little of the money each time I visit, and before too long, it’ll be paid off? You can just… tell me when it’s all been paid. I’ll let you keep track, there’s… no need for anything formal.” Oren thought this was an amazing idea. He didn’t care about the money, really, though he didn’t want to let the mayor off the hook. But visits from Brie of any duration, even to deliver a payment, sounded like the best thing he could imagine. He nodded, “That sounds perfect. I would like that a lot.” Brie hid her disgust, looking down, pretending to be demure again. Suppressing her feelings, she tilted her head up to kiss him. Oren had no idea why Brie had really come to see him, or what she was forcing herself to do. But he kissed her back enthusiastically, and enjoyed their short time together before she left, feeling ashamed.

27 Tholary, 7429 AC
It had been over two years since little Benjy had been born, and Oren thought of him as he prepared a dose of tea for the boy’s mother. His real mother, not Mrs. Moss. Oren stirred the tea, carefully sifted out the stray leaves. Brie asked, “How long will it take?” Adding a few extra things to improve the taste, Oren explained, “you'll probably feel it within an hour. It will be a little painful, more than you'd usually feel, but it's early so it won't be too bad. You're welcome to stay here tonight if you like.” Brie hoped he only meant to sleep, and decided he couldn't be trying to use this as an excuse to have sex. He wasn't that bad. Even if she had felt up to it, she refused to do that sort of thing with the wizard around. It was supposed to be a secret. “I'd rather be at home, thank you. And I don't know when I'll be back to… visit you.” She took the tea from him and drank it quickly, the taste was overwhelming, but she sipped the water he had given her and recovered. Oren looked disappointed and knelt by her, taking her hands. “Don't feel bad.” Before he could continue his feeble attempt at comforting her, she stood and shook his hands away. “You need to be more careful.” He nodded, even though it wasn’t really his fault, and she left.

She had been visiting him every few weeks for the past year and a half, except when the wizard was home. She never visited when Oren's master was around, other than the recent medical visit. Oren found himself eagerly anticipating his leaving now, and the wizard could sense the new awkwardness between them. Of course, neither of them told the other how they felt. Adani tried to be more pleasant towards Oren, and Oren seemed friendly, but the disappointed twinge the boy always seemed to feel when he learned of Adani’s eminent departures was definitely a thing of the past. The wizard spoke to the baker, Jane, about it during one of her visits and while she didn’t let on what she knew of the relationship, she did point out that Oren was no longer a moody teenager and being more cheerful made sense. But Oren didn’t seem cheerful, he seemed antsy and annoyed sometimes, and serene and pleasant the rest of the time. If anything he was more emotional and guarded than before. But Adani knew nothing of raising children and decided that Jane was right, and resolved to wait it out and give him space.

Later that afternoon, Adani entered the living space of the tower and saw Oren sitting in front of the fire on the sofa, flipping back and forth through some book. He walked over to the kitchen and made some tea and brought the boy a cup, setting it down on the small table beside him. Oren glanced at it and said, “Thank you,” and continued to read his book, slowly now. Adani mussed Oren’s hair like he did sometimes and asked, “Oren… does it bother you to be alone here so often?” Oren froze and considered this. ''Why is he asking me a thing that like now? He never asks me how I feel about anything. Why does he care?'' He realized he hadn’t answered and felt like the longer he waited the more his master would divine from his silence, so he blurted out, “well.. I don’t know what it’s like to not be alone. So. I mean, it’s alright.” He regretted ever being born as he wondered what he had just said. The wizard felt a little guilty, though he wasn’t sure why. He felt like he owed Oren an explanation, but he had never explained himself to anyone. He had always planned to tell him more when he was older, and give him more freedoms, but even though Oren was at least twenty he still thought of him as a helpless child. So he just said, “I’m sorry if you’re unhappy,” and walked out of the room.

Oren sat up on his knees, looking over the back of the sofa at the doorway his master had just walked through and called out, “I’m not.” He felt horrible, and he slunk down and curled up on the sofa, sipping his tea and pulling his robe closed and hiding his face. He never wanted to hurt his master, but he felt like he had just done something wrong. He wondered if he should tell him about Brie and then realized he couldn’t. Not without explaining that Everett Moss had only paid twelve gold of his debt in two years.

Oren was wincing and trying to think of a way to make it up to his master, wondering if he should go tell him that he cares about him, or promise to never leave, when Adani walked back in. He stood looking down at Oren and sighed, startling him. Oren turned slightly and looked up at him painfully, then rolled back over and hid his face again. He heard his master’s calm voice, “Oren, I’m sorry you can’t leave. It’s not safe for you out in the world right now. Maybe it will be one day, but it’s just not. This government is too volatile and their orcs are bloodthirsty. Anyone can be murdered on the street. And there are wolves, and you could catch a cold,” he continued with the usual list of threats and Oren wondered if any of it was true. He knew the rain didn’t really cause illnesses, he had looked it up. He hoped his master had a good reason for keeping him locked up, although it occurred to him that if he really wanted to leave there was nothing stopping him. The thought of disobeying his master made him feel miserable and he sat up again on his knees and grabbed Adani’s shirt, with tears in his eyes he begged for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’ll never leave, I’m not sad I promise, I like it here. Please don’t be mad at me.” Adani patted him on the head and smiled. “I’m not angry with you.” Oren slipped back down and curled up against the back of the sofa, hiding his face again. “Drink your tea. I’m not going anywhere yet. You don’t have to feel lonely while I’m here.” Assuming everything was settled, he walked off to go look into some things while Oren lay on the sofa in misery.

Hours later, the wizard returned to find him still moping. Oren glanced at him with a pitiful, guilty expression. Adani smiled and asked, “Have you ever heard of Fallowfield?” Oren nodded. “Everyone has.” Oren hadn’t heard of it until he came here, but he still felt like it was obvious. “Some people don’t know anything. But you’re right, of course you have. Well, I have this.” He held up a newspaper. “It says here The Holy Seat is being criticized by the people. Apparently she’s too soft on the Elyde. I say they’ve had twenty-five years to complain, I’m not sure why these rebel papers are talking about it now.” Oren glanced at the paper. “Is it true?” he asked. Adani beamed with pride. “Perhaps. She’s a sort of naive optimistic person. ...She thinks the children of destiny will be born soon. What do you think?” Oren read the paper quietly for a minute and then said, “that does seem naive.” The wizard had hardly discussed these topics with him for fear of him wanting to go to Fallowfield for more answers. He wondered if he had worried for nothing. Oren hadn’t reacted at all to the mention of the children. Oren smiled. “Is it true Fallowfield has a library like your own? Only I read that, and I wondered if you had seen their books…” Adani’s expression turned slightly sour. “That old witch wouldn’t let me in. ‘Do you know who I am!’ and all that, it didn’t faze her at all.” He seemed annoyed but then he smiled. “Their library is nothing to ours, don’t worry about that.” There was a long silence and Oren’s eyes grew wide with surprise as he thought about what had just been said. His master was trying to cheer him up, probably, with his jokes. ''Our library? It’s not ours, it’s his.'' Oren resorted to his usual technique of changing the subject, “Are there a lot of scholars there? You should have pretended to be normal.” The wizard smiled, “Ordinarily I would have, but I thought for sure she’d have heard of me. She hadn’t. My letter got me a short audience through the door and I was told that wizards weren’t welcome- do you believe that?” Oren nodded, then thought about it and shook his head. He winced as his hair was once again mussed, then smiled. “Maybe the next Holy Seat will let you in.”

A knock on the door was heard throughout the tower, and Oren started to get up to answer it while his master waved for him to sit. “I’ll get it. Although these days it’s for you as often as it’s for me.” He walked down the stairs and Oren heard the familiar voice of a recent patient. He hopped up and walked down the stairs to see what was going on. He saw an old man passing the wizard a small sack, and the wizard awkwardly looking into it, perplexed. “For the young doctor, it’s payment.” Oren hurried over and took it from his master and thanked the man. “I hope you feel better, thank you, good bye.” He ushered the man out and shut the door before walking back upstairs with the sack. Adani curiously followed him into the kitchen area and watched Oren empty the sack into a bowl. It was not money, as he had hoped, but it appeared to be a large quantity of hazelnuts. “Oren… what is this?” “They’re food, I guess. He said they were good and that he’d give me some.” “Oh. And why is he being so generous?” Oren popped one of the hazelnuts into his mouth and tried to chew it, and immediately spit it into his hand, tossing it into the trash. “Maybe I have to cook them. Do you know how?”

The wizard sighed and walked over to show him how to crack them open and eat them. “Oren, answer my question.” “He was sick, he had a fever and I helped. So he said he’d give me these as payment.” “...a bag of hazelnuts, for medical treatment? How much do you usually charge? I thought I told you not to let people take advantage.” He rubbed his temples, wondering how he managed to raise such a sweet, foolish boy. Oren slowly picked at a shell, “I told him it would be five gold. It didn’t take long.” “And how much do you think this bowl of nuts is worth?” Oren didn’t answer. He thought about how he couldn’t have gone to the tree himself, and didn’t know how to get them anyway. He would never have tasted them if the old man hadn’t offered, and that seemed fair. He heard Everett’s words in his head. What do I need money for, indeed. I’m not going to any shops. Adani patted his shoulder gently and sighed. “It’s up to you how you want to manage your own business, but one day you’ll need money and you’ll regret not charging proper fees and saving. You don’t have to charge a full five gold for a fever, but at least start charging a few silver. Unless these gifts please you?” Oren thought about Everett again, and how he must be congratulating himself on saving ninety gold, and all it cost him was his daughter’s time. He wondered if Brie was in on it, or if the time they spent together was sincere. He wondered if the debt were repaid, would she still visit. He decided it would be best to tell her the debt was paid, if only to find out.

The wizard delayed leaving for a while, but eventually the wanderlust was too strong and he had need of items which could only be found in Dallos. He left on another journey, this time with a promise and a return date. Oren seemed very pleased with this, and Adani congratulated himself on healing their relationship. Oren prepared to win over Brie by absolving her of her debt, not knowing that he was completely wrong about her affection for him.

17 Frayne, 7429 AC
Two days after the wizard left, there was a knock and Oren sprinted down the stairs, beaming. The door opened and closed, and he politely escorted her upstairs. He wanted to take his time enjoying her company before anything else happened. I don’t even need that from her. Oren just wanted to make her happy and be near her. And to talk about the money. She sat on the sofa and sighed, holding her head. “I have a headache, I’m sorry. Maybe I could lie down for a bit? Um, alone?” Oren looked concerned, and she suddenly remembered that he was a doctor and regretted her mistake. He felt her forehead and offered her some medicine, but she shook her head. “Can you just let me sleep for a while? I’ll head back after. It’s still a visit…” He wondered what that meant, and assumed her headache was making her irritable. Brie stood and moved towards the doorway. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, following her. “No. Just… can you just leave me alone?” Oren stopped. “Sorry… I just… haven’t seen you in a while.” Brie looked annoyed, “I’ve been really busy.” “With what?” Oren was trying to make conversation, not start a fight, but Brie spun around to face him. “Look, I’m… I just don’t think I should be visiting you so often. I’m twenty-two, you know, it’s time I found a husband.” He tried to think of a response. “Why did you bother to come out here if you’re just going to sleep?” She sighed, “A visit is a visit, right? Are you going to insist? Let’s just get it over with so I can leave, then.” Oren blushed and quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You can sleep, it’s fine.” The last two visits she had been acting strangely and he wondered now if she was bored of him. In fact, he thought about it and realized that the last time they hadn’t had sex at all, and the time before that she had gotten right to it and left right after. He wondered what that meant, and looking at her he could tell she was very upset. “I… I don’t know, Oren.” She steeled her resolve and asked, “How much money do I owe you? Isn’t my debt repaid yet? How long are you going to keep doing this?” He was quiet for a long time, as the cold realization washed over him. Adani’s advice about not being taken advantage of crossed his mind, and he remembered Brie’s horrible father and his reluctance to pay for her treatment. He was a rich man and could have paid it at any moment, but instead he sent his daughter to cover it herself. He sent her to trick him into removing their debt in exchange for their time together. She looked ashamed and miserable, and he decided she was a victim too, though she had lied to him. If she had told him the truth, he would never have done this. He wondered if any of it had been real, and he said, “You don’t owe me anything. Your father does. Go home. And tell him I’ll come collect it when I need it.” She shook her head, “Oren, I’ve done so much to make you happy, doesn’t that count for anything?” He pushed past her into the doorway leading upstairs and stopped, “No, because I didn’t agree to pay some… whore for that. Just go home, leave me alone.” He was trying not to cry, and went upstairs to his bedroom, hoping she’d leave on her own. She felt horrible for what she had done to him, and was furious with her father for convincing her to do this in the first place. She wished she hadn’t tried to get out of it. She wished she hadn’t done it in the first place. Brie left the tower for good, and didn’t see Oren again for over a year.

Oren was pretending to not be upset when the wizard returned, and he was doing a terrible job at it. Adani barely noticed, having decided that the woman in the inn years ago had been wrong about Oren’s age. Jane had said teenagers were moody, and that described Oren’s recent behavior perfectly. He was miserable and quiet, more so than usual, and spent long hours reading alone next to the window. These behaviors were normal for Oren, but the wizard felt they were more frequent and significant in the six months since his breakup with Brie, which of course the wizard knew nothing about. He was therefore overjoyed when a gorgeous young woman knocked on the door and, twirling her blonde hair around a finger, seductively asked if the handsome young doctor was home. Adani invited her in and left her in the infirmary while he went to fetch Oren. “Oren, where are you, boy? There’s a kind young lady here to see you, and it’s urgent.” Oren looked up and went to the landing to meet him. “Who? What did she say?” He was concerned until his master began to describe her. “She’s blonde, with thick wavy hair, and a great body and a pretty face. Look, why are you still talking to me? She wants the ‘young doctor’ to cure her. That’s you. Wait here a moment,” and he strode into the library. Oren thought of the first pretty blonde he had met, long ago when he was just fourteen-or-fifteen. The first girl he was with, although he wasn’t sure how to tally the two of them. Her name was Lily. As his mind drifted back to inappropriate thoughts, his master came back and shoved a small book into his hands, smiling. “This is what she’s sick with. The cure is inside. Take your time.” He laughed and walked back into the library, leaving Oren to examine the book. Hysteria? He went down to the infirmary to help the young woman with her ailment.

A few hours later, Adani heard the front door open and shut, and Oren emerged from the stone staircase. Standing in the kitchen picking at some food, the wizard was able to quickly grab two glasses and pour a few fingers of whiskey in each, tossing in some ice as he did. Oren sat at the counter across from him and was surprised when his master slid him a glass. “Go on, have a drink. You’re a man now!” he proudly exclaimed, leaning forward to muss his hair. Oren blushed, extremely embarrassed that his master knew what just happened. “What? I’m... I was already a man!” He drank his drink too quickly and regretted it as it hit his throat. “I mean, I’m... twenty-one, probably twenty-two really.” The wizard grinned, “yes well, you’re not a man until you do that. Not really.” Oren disagreed with that and shook his head, but the whiskey made him say, “Well I already did that, a long time ago. Lots of times. What do you know about it...” and the wizard filled his glass again. “Oh, well, excuse me. I didn’t know you were so experienced. I hope the book helped, at least.” Oren glared at him, “That’s not even a real disease! It’s not medical, just... an excuse to write that trash.” He didn’t want to let on that he had indeed read through the book with the patient, or at least a few of the illustrated parts. He pushed the glass away and retreated upstairs, not wanting to be teased anymore. Adani called after him, laughing, but Oren wasn’t in the mood.

Another knock came from downstairs, and Adani went to see who it was, hopeful that it was his turn to have a visitor. Jane stood in the doorway, holding a pie. “Am I too early? I don’t want to leave the kids alone too long.” He brought her in, set the pie in the kitchen, and took her upstairs. Afterwards, on the way down, she glanced into the room with the window, claiming to want to see the view since it was still daylight. Oren sat in his usual spot, leaning against the window, with incense burning and a pile of books nearby. He looked forlorn, and was staring outside, not at the pages. Jane gave a concerned look to Adani and whispered, “He really does look heartbroken.” He raised an eyebrow at this, “What do you mean? He should be in good spirits...” but she shook her head slightly “hasn’t he mentioned Brie?” Once again, Adani raised an eyebrow. She explained, “Everett’s daughter. A pretty little minx who spent the last year stopping by this tower every time you turned your back, leading your poor boy on and then leaving him over nothing. She broke his heart, from what I hear.” Adani felt her concern and realized he hadn’t been paying attention to Oren at all. Not only had his apprentice been practically dating some trollop, now he was breaking his heart for her? He sighed and walked Jane out before returning, this time determined to drive all of Oren’s cares away and act like a proper mentor, leading him through this turmoil.

He pushed aside some books and settled in next to Oren, putting his arm around him gently. Oren felt awkward, but appreciated the uncharacteristic intimacy. “Oren,” the wizard started, and immediately hesitated, trying to find the right words. He took a deep breath and began again, “Oren, I heard that you had a sort of falling out with a woman. The mayor’s daughter? Are you alright? You shouldn’t let some harlot fill your life with woe. Women like that aren’t worth the tears, you should save your heartbreak for a more deserving woman. Someone respectable, who’ll treat you better.” Oren listened and nodded. “You’re right. I’m not sad about it. She’s a whore. I mean, it’s not her fault. I don’t know… I’m not really mad at her. I’m just upset about my situation.” Adani didn’t know what that meant. He had no idea what to say to Oren so he just said, “There are plenty of fish in the sea.” like you’re supposed to. But Oren replied quickly, “but I’m not in the sea.” An awkward silence went on for about a minute, as Adani withdrew his arm and considered this. “You will be one day. You’ll meet a girl who makes you forget all about this mayor’s daughter.” He was silent for another minute before saying in a quiet, kind tone, “I’m leaving for a while. There’s something I have to do. Things are… happening that are important, and I have to prepare.” Oren looked desperately into his eyes and asked, “May I please come with you?” Adani stared back and considered it, but realized it would be dangerous. He had to keep him safe, he was too precious to risk his life for his happiness. He shook his head slowly. “I promise to take you somewhere one day.” He left, and Oren was alone again.

6 Tolea, 7429 AC
Oren was still bored and lonely. The wizard was still gone. Oren walked around the library, picking through the books for anything new and interesting. Between two books, he found a small leather pouch. The pouch was old, but inside was a lotus seed. It was fresh, and Oren suspected it would grow if planted. So he did. He placed it in a small clay bowl that he carefully filled with water from the faucet in the apothecary. It sat there under a special glowing orb which helped plants grow indoors, and Oren followed every instruction perfectly in order to get it to grow.

After two weeks, the seed still hadn’t sprouted. He did more research and found a strange passage in a book on botany. The final page in the book, in a handwriting different from the rest of the book, had a litany of rules for growing a Blood Lotus. The water must be pure. He didn’t know how to check that, but he suspected the water from the faucet was as pure as it could be. The bowl must be clean, it needs partial sunlight, it needs blood. Blood? A strange requirement, but Oren didn’t argue. Looking up from the book and examining the bowl, he quickly grabbed a knife and pierced his finger, draining a small amount of blood into the water before realizing what he had done. He dropped the knife and snatched his hand back, and pressed a cloth to his wound. He left the room, slightly uncomfortable with what he had just done.

The next day, the seed had begun to sprout. Oren waited, and when it grew no more, he once again- willingly this time- cut himself to feed it. For weeks this went on, tiny drops here and there and tiny growth from the seed. After over a month he knew he needed more. The progress had slowed and he was starting to feel anemia setting in. He was pale and felt dizzy sometimes. His wrists were covered in wounds of varying ages. And the drawer that housed a few vials of blood was now depleted. When a man arrived with a cut forearm from some accident, Oren realized he had a simple solution. He held the man’s arm over a bowl, collecting some of the blood. He then stitched the man up and told him it was free. He man left, and Oren carried the blood to the lotus seed. Another month passed, and more progress was made. More patients were bled. Blood splatters covered the passage from the infirmary bed to the far corner of the apothecary. Spilled blood was useless, so Oren didn’t bother with it. Oren didn’t bother with much, except to keep himself clean and healthy enough to continue to tend the plant. His wrists were bandaged to hide the large gashes and scars. People began to question Oren’s bloodletting, and after two patients died in quick succession his reputation as a skilled medic was ruined; but he had plenty of blood.

14 Alin, 7430 AC
After many months, the flower bloomed.

“BURY ME AT THIRSHALON” it shouted into his mind.

Oren nodded. He had done so much to discover the secrets of magic and here it was, a promise of power and answers. The quest was an easy price for such a blessing. The plant withered and sank. Oren gathered the drying plant into a pouch and tied it to his neck. He packed supplies and left the library.

14 Alin, 7430 AC
Oren wore the leather armour he had been given. “Perfect for mages like yourself,” the man had said. But Oren wasn’t a mage. Or at least, he hadn’t been. He wasn’t sure what he was now. On his belt he had a sort of mace or metal club. Oren wasn’t trained with it but he was sure he could hit someone with it and they would feel it. “Every man need a weapon,” he had been told, but the blacksmith smiled in a way that made Oren feel uneasy, he knew it was a lie and he was being taken advantage of, but he didn’t say anything at the time. He was determined, now, to make use of these foolishly accepted gifts. He had put on sensible travelling clothes, though his shirt was noticeably embroidered and made of finer materials than most peasants could afford, and his boots and cloak were well-crafted, the latter held closed with a subtly decorative broach. His pierced ears were undecorated, the earrings haven been removed months ago. His thick black hair had tangled into small twisted clumps, keeping it clean and sorted though the appearance made him look even more disheveled than if it were simply unwashed. He had a backpack with everything he thought a traveler should need, and a leather pouch on a chain around his neck, and within the pouch the dried remains of a beautiful blood lotus. The only thing Oren lacked was money. He walked into town to get it.

At the home of Everett Moss he was spotted by several villagers, and they began to whisper about his strange appearance. Brie came to the door and was pained to see that he really had become a mess, as people had been saying. She didn’t know what to say to him, and she hoped she hadn’t caused his sudden change. Looking into his eyes, though, she knew something else was going on. He wasn’t himself at all, literally. Her father came up behind her to greet Oren, not realizing something was seriously wrong. As usual, he underestimated Oren and assumed he was a fool to be taken advantage of. He smiled and stepped outside onto the porch to talk, “How can I help you, Oren?” “I need some money.” Brie was frozen, watching the exchange. Everett awkwardly shifted and asked, “And what do you need money for, Mr. Lane? Are you going somewhere?” He had noticed the bag and cloak, at least, and was trying to get information in the fear that Adani Pender would return and blame someone for his apprentice’s disappearance. Oren glanced around nervously. “I just do. Give me what you owe me.” The mayor’s expression turned sour, and Brie started to head inside, away from this conversation. She didn’t like seeing Oren like this, and didn’t want to watch her father do something foolish. She was too late, though, and she heard her father say “I owe you nothing. Go home.” in a stern voice, he obviously hoped would intimidate the sweet, innocent apprentice. A red burst of light shot out of Oren’s heart, striking the mayor and hurling him backwards into a wall. People on the street stopped and observed the assault, shocked. They had all lived in fear of the wizard, and those that knew Oren were surprised, but none of them would admit it. They whispered about how they ‘always knew’ and how ‘all mages are the same,’ and as Oren collected what little money Everett had in his pockets, he checked to make sure the mayor was alive and not too badly hurt. Brie watched him walk away, and noted the direction he headed- south, along the river- before tending to her father.

20 Alin, 7430 AC
Oren walked for six days before arriving in the city of Ushad. He had barely eaten since he left the tower, and the silver he had stolen wouldn’t last long. Walking through Ushad he saw what appeared to be a restaurant. ''The Grainhouse. Maybe they sell bread,'' he thought, as he walked inside.