Chapter X: News about the red moon

Ilmur was pouring a cup for him and his master. He had come as soon as he heard the news. They were sitting in his master’s room in the tower. Everything in the room was the same as usual but it felt very different.

“It’s a shame Gandon can’t be with us,” said Ilmur.

Yvan shrugged before he started drinking his tea. “He made his decision. If he would apologize, I’m ready to receive it.”

Gandon would never do that, thought Ilmur but he kept it to himself. His master wouldn’t want to hear it.

Yvan took his time with his tea as usual and Ilmur knew that rushing him would accomplish as much as dragging Gandon here to apologize. Ilmur didn’t mind so much though, he really should be here more often. He took the chance to look around, there were a lot of memories in this room. The thought that all of them might never sit at the table again saddened him. He saw in the bookshelf that a few books that Gandon had borrowed were still missing. Ilmur could bring them here next time since Gandon probably wasn’t so comfortable with doing it himself.

“It took some time, but we finally know a bit more now regarding the events of the red moon that took place in March.”

“The tenth of March, Gandon’s birthday,” said Ilmur.

“Yes, well, I sent out two friends to investigate where the crater might be. Only one of them returned.”

“Are the craters deadly? Are there some deadly fumes arising from it?” said Ilmur worried.

“The craters aren’t dangerous but what might come out of them are. However, the person they were looking for had already left when they finally managed to locate the crater. They followed the footsteps for two days until they found a man wrapped in a black coat. The hood covered his face in some strange darkness. But if they had managed to remove the hood, I’m certain that they would have found a pair of glowing eyes looking at them. Liandring mentions this in his texts. The man who claimed to be a demi-god.

They found the man in the black cloak being busy drinking with four dozen goblins. My friends weren’t sure if they were celebrating or performing some sort of ritual. They waited until most of the goblins had left the camps. It seemed as if hooded figure had sent them out on different errands. They tried to bring him out of there peacefully to be brought forth to Everharn and answered by the wizard council but the hooded figure wanted to hear nothing of it. He fought back with magic and it was like nothing they had ever seen before. He didn’t consume berries or potions to cast his spells, and no studying of animals would ever have taught him to control the darkness the way he did. It could have been dark magic, but one of my friends is from the same island as me and he said that something felt off.”

“How does dark magic work exactly?” Ilmur had no idea, the magic books never mentioned it. Even though he hadn’t read nearly as much as Gandon.

Yvan tapped his fingers on the table. “I can’t be the one to teach you this Ilmur. As you know Oban is already infamous for its history with dark magic. It would be wrong if I taught you even a little. There are a lot of mages that already don’t trust me in the order.”

“Sorry for interrupting. Please continue,” said Ilmur.

“There is not much to tell I’m afraid. During the battle one of my friends got killed and the hooded figure escaped. The trail has gone cold and we have no idea where he might be. During my friend’s journey home he was hunted by goblins for a long while.”

Yvan rose and brought forth a big volume from the bookshelf. “I have thought about this a great deal and I believe the hooded figure could be Malkarth. He was the one who created the goblins.” Yvan turned to a page with an illustration and dragged the book over the table so Ilmur could see. The man in the picture had black hair, glowing cold blue eyes and dressed entirely in black from head to toe. His skin made Ilmur think of ice. It felt like the man looking down on you and it reminded him a lot of Gandon.

“This can’t be happening. Malkarth here? No one will ever believe you.” The thought that a god would walk among us was inconceivable. Earlier it had been Gandon that had been the skeptic but now he shared his brother’s feelings. “If you bring this to the council, they will laugh at you.”

“And yet I must try. It’s going to be tough, but one of my friends is still alive. So they will have to listen to us.”

“Isn’t this just going to create a wider rift between you and the order?” asked Ilmur.

“Possibly, but that’s the risk I’m going to have to take. I can’t sit back here and do nothing.”

“What if they banish you?”

“My two only students are all grown up. You can take care of yourself now. I know that both of you will do great on your own. If the worst happens, I will seek shelter at the blue mages. I have old friends in the woods that I haven’t seen in many years. If I must leave, then so be it. I have lived all my life in my ancestor’s great shame and therefore I will do what’s right. If Malkarth has descended nothing good can come out of it. The wizards and the king must be told. Then I will at least have peace, knowing that I have done what I could.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Father would never abandon you, you can always stay in the castle,” said Ilmur.

“If I get banished, I won’t stay. I never came here for luxury, I came here so I could be taught things that I couldn’t anywhere else.”

“Is there any way I can persuade you, master?”

“No, I’m sorry Ilmur.”

Ilmur came out of the tower after their tea, feeling gloomy. What was the world coming to? Red moons, gods and Yvan and everything else. He should make himself mentally ready for the journey to Alden but it was difficult. He should do something with Alexandra soon as well, he was going to lose momentum if he didn’t do anything.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he looked at the four rows of berries and went over to the ice berries and went on his knees, not even bothering with the fact that he was soiling his white uniform. He grabbed some nasty roots that were going to ruin a whole plant if not anyone took care of it soon. It had been so long since he did this, he had always told himself that he was too busy but maybe as a prince he had thought he was above this kind of work. He needed to use his hands more often, it was the same with the sword, this calmed him down.

He wondered if he should quit as Yvan’s student as well. This wasn’t right, it had always been Gandon that was the protégé when it came to magic. He should have stayed, who knew how far Gandon could have taken it. It was ridiculous that the lesser student stayed while the greater one left. Ilmur had never liked magic himself that much, you often got hurt if you didn’t know what you did. He still remembered the pain from the fire berries.

He and Gandon had often lived life quite similar from boyhood into adulthood but maybe it was time to do things differently. They clearly had different strengths and for them to live the same lives was to no use to anybody. Both of them needed to find their own ways. He really hoped that father didn’t plan for Gandon to stay in Alden when the issue was resolved, losing him would hurt too much. Saran had been right, even if he would never say it out loud, he liked Gandon even more than he did his blood brothers. They had just been through so much with each other over the years.

The pile of weeds grew as he worked alone with only his mind to keep him company. The thought of going back to the castle was forgotten. He held one of the berries in his hand, thinking about removing it from the stalk and eating it. It was strictly against regulations of course, but who would stop him? It was his father that funded this whole project. When was the last time he had produced ice from his palm? He couldn’t remember. Was he afraid of the magic? Was it his ego that held him back knowing that he wasn’t as good as others? As Gandon? Surely he would like five towers more as well if Gandon wasn’t so much better at it than him.

He dropped the stalk, he wasn’t the person that broke the rules. If he wanted a potion he could always ask Yvan for one. He looked around, there were no other mages at the fire berries and he was the only one at the ice berries. But the earth row had half a dozen that worked together. He started to wonder if it was because they were more in touch with the earth than the rest of them. Many thought that Gandon was full of himself, and maybe he was, but so far as Ilmur knew Gandon was the only one who took care of others’ berries beside his own. Gandon had many times cleared the ice row as well. He had no idea how long he had on his knees but when he had gone through the whole ice row he decided to go back to the castle. Feeling productive after the hard work.

He went to Gandon’s room hoping that he would be there. Ilmur was sure that Gandon wanted to hear the news that Yvan had brought to them. As Ilmur suspected, Gandon was busy with reading a book.

“Ilmur! What brings you here? Your uniform is all dirty. What happened?”

“Never mind that. I have news about the red moon, can I come in?”

Gandon stepped aside so that Ilmur could enter.

Ilmur sat down in one of the empty chairs that wasn’t stacked with books and started eagerly to retell what Yvan had told him previously.

“I wonder how you do black magic,” said Gandon thoughtfully. “None of the books ever mentions how to proceed.”

“He wouldn’t tell me,” said Ilmur.

“That’s a shocker! That old goat never says anything unless he must!”

“Gandon!”

“You know I’m right!”

Ilmur shook his head. “I’m afraid master isn’t going to do anything stupid. He is going to bring the news to the wizard council, but I’m afraid there isn’t enough evidence.”

Gandon sighted, “we have known him for more than ten years, of course he is going to.”

“I tried to offer father’s protection, but he didn’t want to hear about that.”

“There is nothing I can do about that. I have never met someone as stubborn as him.”

Ilmur had to almost bite his own tongue to not say anything mean. “I’m thinking of resigning as Yvan’s student too.”

“Why?”

“I was never as good as you. My skills are severely lacking compared to some of the other students here.”

“Please stay for a little while at least. We need someone that can get information from Yvan. Like the business with the red moon. You can do the basics just fine; you would be really good if you practiced more often. Maybe I could give you a few tips? Maybe train with you a little even though I’m a fire mage.”

Ilmur was surprised by Gandon’s sudden generosity. He thought back how cold his hand had felt the last time he produced ice from his hand… “I think about it.”

Ilmur looked over at the books that were open at Gandon’s desk. “How come that you read poetry? That usually isn’t your forte. Even mother was surprised.” Ilmur wasn’t much of a reader but he knew some of the romantic ones by heart, you never knew when you needed to woo the ladies.

Gandon closed the books that Ilmur had been eying. “No reason, really. I believe that you can learn something from all types of text. Can be refreshing after all volumes of history and magics and economics and whatnot.”

Ilmur nodded, he supposed that was true. “If you want I can bring back the books that you borrowed from Yvan. I figured that you didn’t want to go back with the books yourself.”

Gandon eyed the room. There were a lot of books. “That would be great, you don’t happen to have a list with all the books I’ve borrowed with you?”

“I’m not your assistant, Gandon!”

“How glorious that would be, a prince for an assistant!” Gandon laughed. “Give me a second and I will recollect my memory.”

Eventually, twelve volumes were brought forth.

“Good that a strong man like you can carry these with ease! If you don’t mind I must continue with my studies,” said Gandon and slammed the door in Ilmur’s face.