A tale of Celcynd. Chapter Three

[Tynerion]

Celcynd looked up from the scroll he was studying and with a raised eyebrow, took stock of the thirty-two children placed in his care this day. Most were increasing their proficiency in writing as he had dictated, but his attention focused on the two that were not. Little Hardunna had abandoned the tedium of scripting the lines and curves of the printed word for a little piece of clay that she had obviously brought with her for just such an occasion. To this Celcynd paid no attention. For he could not expect a child so young to apply herself to tasks meant for those twice her age. "In a few years," he thought, "I can see that I will have quite a task on my hands with the name of Hardunna. Hopefully, my patience will grow with the years so that I am prepared." He laughed to himself.

Tynerion on the other hand, would need to be dealt with. A consummate daydreamer, this boy of eight years could not remain to the task of writing for more than ten minutes. Unless that is, the words made some semblance of a magic spell. More than not, Celcynd would receive Tynerions assignment at the end of the day incomplete, but with words written beautifully in the margins such as "Malar" and "Quavosh". Regardless of Celcynds ire for Tynerions disregard of the "less noble" studies, He, more than anyone understood this boy and held a liking for him. Particularly for the fact that looking into Tynerions eyes when the studies turned to magic, Celcynd would see a glimpse of himself at that age.

"Tynerion!" Celcynds voice boomed startling Tynerion out of his vision of streaking bolts of fire and glistening portals. "What number are you on?!"

"Master?", Tynerion responded in a meek voice.

Celcynd fixed his stern gaze on the youngster. "Your assignment is to write the ten tenants contained in the Code of Pwyll, what number are you on?"

Tynerions face turned white as he looked down at his parchment before him and looked again at his teacher’s stone hard face. "Number six master."

"You have no more than three spans to complete your assignment young master. And if there are any extra words on your scroll than what I have asked for, there shall be an accounting between you and I!" pronounced Celcynd.

"Yes master. But master, will you still... umm...", started Tynerion now showing a goodly amount of fear.

"Will I what Tynerion?" said Celcynd knowing exactly what the boy wanted to know. "Will I reward lazy children who think more of slaying Olthoi with streaks of lightning than for learning the lessons I teach? Will I succumb to the whims of a group of waifs with self-induced ignorance by creating a portal for their amusement?" Celcynd realized that his point had hit the mark by seeing Tynerions sheepish demeanor and relented by softening his stance. "If all finish well, I shall benefit your desires with a shining portal during our midday break."

These words caused a general thrill through the children who lived for the times when Celcynd would make a display of his artifice magic, that so few had ever seen within their time.

Celcynd thought back to the time when he had seen his first workings of magic. Several young men and women standing before the Empyrean master Harlune hoping against all odds that they might be picked to become his student. Harlune was a difficult being to be around. Time after time groups of would-be mages would knock on his door in Arwic asking to be taught the essences of magic. And each time he would shake his fist at those standing there, spouting dispersions on whether they might truly be offspring’s of a Shreth. Each time Harlune would create a portal instructing them that true happiness and knowledge was within its swirling mass. When the seekers would walk into the portal, they would always end up in the middle of the river in Rithwic where they would make their soggy way home with downcast faces.

But when Celcynd stood before the shimmering gateway that Harlune created, He could not move. His eyes affixed and his heart racing, he could feel the energy the portal emanated. With fire in his eyes, he faced the portal as a statue until the pink waves dissipitated and he was once more free to move.

Looking up at the towering Empyrean, a flood of guilt washed over him. "My apologies Master Harlune. I should have obeyed your command. But I could not." he said with a voice of regret though there was none in him.

Harlune did not reply. Studying Celcynd for what seemed like an eternity without expression, Celcynd wondered if Harlune was contemplating the best way to dispose of Celcynds body. Instead however, Harlune spoke softly, almost too soft to hear. "Follow me."

From that point on, Celcynd lived with Harlune and became his apprentice. Years of menial tasks and incessant repetition of ancient texts became his entire life. He learned of the magical Ley-Lines that coursed every which way through the land and how to harness and focus the energy to a mages own will. For the longest time, Celcynd portals would take him to the most terrible places. Swamps full of Mosswarts, seashores with brutal Reedsharks where he would run screaming to find a tree suitable to climb until he could procure the right components for another portal. Harlune used to say "Celcynd, there was a group of drudges here this morning that wondered if you could come back for a second act. It seems your act of jumping out of trees into portals is quite amusing for their little ones." This was the only time that Celcynd would see the lighter side of Harlune. And even then, Harlune would never laugh or even crack a smile.

So much had changed since those times. Celcynd had mastered the magic of Artifice and was held in very high regard as being the first human to learn and practice the ancient ways.

A giggle from the rear of the schoolroom brought Celcynd back into the present and before he could bring his gaze to bear on the source, he lost his sight completely to the presence of two soft hands covering them as the owner stood directly behind him. Celcynd inhaled the aroma of Frankincense as a voice as melodious as a clear stream flowing through meadow spoke, "Guess my name, and I shall be yours forever."

For the sake of the children, Celcynd knew he must guess. "Is it Wantorth the Fletcher?" He proposed with a smile.

"NOOO!" several of the children yelled in unison.

"Ah then, it MUST be the peddler from the outskirts of town, come to bring me my new Breeches I ordered a month ago. It's about time! The holes in my current pair are causing drafts!" He chided.

This time all the children exploded with a resounding yell that indicated he had yet to guess correctly.

"I can guess no longer." He said with a laugh. "Who has taken the great Celcynd by surprise?"

Unable to contain herself any longer, Hardunna stood up in the back of the room and yelled with so much enthusiasm that even the birds outside took flight. "IT'S BENT-SELLA SEASAND!"

"Ahh! So it is!" said Celcynd, lifting out of his chair as Brentsella removed her hands. And a much prettier sight than those who I had thought it might be!"

All the children laughed as Celcynd embraced his love, careful to keep it as innocent as possible for the children’s eyes.

"Would you like some company for your mid-day break my dear?" Brentsella asked, their embrace complete.

It took no second thought for Celcynd. "I would indeed!" He said. "Allow me to glue these scamps to their seats first. I will have no spies giggling around us as we have before."

After assigning several of the eldest students to watch over the class as they ate their meal, Celcynd and Brentsella Headed off to the shade of some nearby trees. As they went, Celcynd had to roll his eyes at the cantering of verse coming from the children yet behind.

"The Sun has the Moon,
and the Earth, the Sky
Celcynd has Brentsella
'til the day they both die."

"Children." Griped Celcynd.

"You love them." responded Brentsella gently.

Celcynd smiled, "Yes. In that, there is no doubt."

Celcynd and Brentsella spend a good portion of the break only smiling and looking into each other’s eyes. Celcynd could not fathom why this woman had made such an impact on his life. He had truly believed that he would end up as Harlune, cramped up in a far away cave, living his life with only a Reedshark as protection and his magic. But Brentsella had melted away the hardness that he had learned from living all those years with the master Empyrean. One word or touch from her would wash away the rest of the world, and everything would become right.

At one point, Brentsella broke out of the lover’s revelry by stating, "I have something for you, my heart." Brentsella fished through the small pouch she wore, and produced a shining silver ring.

Celcynd was not much for flashy jewelry, and as he focused on the object in Brentsella's hand, he knew that she had taken this fact into consideration. It was very simple and unadorned. Thin enough that it did not stand out, but perfect in its simplicity.

"It is something I want you to have." Brentsella continued. "And every time you look at this plain and simple ring, let it remind you of me and the times that we have had. We have never been extravagant in our relationship. It has only been plain and simple, but more than anything else, pure."

Brentsella waited a moment for Celcynds reply, but none came. Instead he seemed to be looking beyond her to the north, and a quizzical look slowly made its way across his face. Where a second ago, that beatific smile beamed, a frown now stood.

"What is it Celcynd?" She asked, now a little disconcerted.

"Drums," responded Celcynd with focused interest. "I hear drums."

[stumpy wallace]

what drums

[Sassy]

WOW....these just get better and better! Thanks Tyn for writing and posting this for all of us to enjoy .

[Druhsk]

good read, I got lost in it . . .

More!

[Tynerion]

Thanks y'all.

Chapter Four hopefully by Friday.