Hear Ye, Hear Ye, It is Announced... - Homeschool Blogger

Archaon: Chapter IV the Practice of Wizardry

Fri, 2 May 2008 16:36:00 -0500

Chapter IV

The Practice of Wizardry

Archaon was not the first to arrive in the main courtyard but not the last so he still had some time to sit by the stone wizard and further study his new staff, every now and then glancing at the head wizard, who as best as Archaon could guess was in his finest robes. When all the “minor wizards” had gathered in the main courtyard the Head Wizard turned his attention to them and assembled them in loose and rather un-uniformed ranks. “Now I want you all to imagine that you’re inside of you’re staff exploring it and searching for the magic inside it. Take your time as this probably will take awhile. Once you have found the magic… well, its your staff. Oh, but make sure your staff is pointed upwards, we don’t want any accidents here do we.” Archaon began his “exploration” of his staff; he closed his eyes and started at the base of the staff.

There was, white,

not a pale white as on the outside of the staff this white was simply brilliant, it seemed as the white had a certain luminosity about it that was one of the most wonderful things Archaon had ever seen, or felt?

He imagined flowing upward through the staff as if a soft wind was gently pushing him towards the top of the staff, and the brilliant whiteness continued.

Suddenly the whiteness was gone and every thing was clear and he felt as if all the

Sun’s ray ten fold glorified shone down upon him

And he bathed in there clear light.

He could see himself his staff pointed towards the sky, standing amidst the others.

And yet he was here… inside his staff.

Then he noticed something, at the center of the clear light was… the sun?

It was and orb of shining air though that seemed impossible he thought many things were impossible before this experience.

Archaon reached forward and touched it;

It was bright, soft, and it filled him with joy.

Then for some reason unknown to Archaon, he wanted to give joy

To the thing that had given him the joy

He touched the shining orb of shining air and recalled the wind that had taken him to this clear sanctuary…

He heard a whooshing sound, then the head wizard’s voice,

Then in the blink of an eye he was standing amidst the others in the main courtyard.

“Archaon, that was brilliant! I have never seen a student grasp it so quickly! And congratulations to you Merovaeus, your new strategy is a complete success.” The Head Wizard said to Archaon then to the same old man who had brought him to this place.

The Head Wizard beckoned him over to wait for the others to complete their tasks.

One by one short bursts of fire shot forth from a student’s staff or a clump of dirt would break up out of the ground and then in a moment break apart. Archaon watched in amusement as Tristana’s staff (which appeared to be made of blue stained glass and had a head in the shape of a magnificent waterlilly) suddenly let loose a sprout of rich, bluish water that miraculously hovered above her head then crashed down on her thoroughly drenching her. And sometimes a barely visible gust of air would apparently whoosh out of someone’s staff and Archaon correctly believed that this is what he or his staff had done. When every one had finished, Merovaeus addressed the whole group and said the following, “Now when you began to “explore” your staff you probably (as should be) started at the base of the staff. I want you to go to the same place in your staff where you found the magic but go directly to it instead of starting at the base and traveling upwards. To get the magic to do what you want it to grasp it and create, in your mind what you want it to do” Archaon did as instructed and once again found his mind in the clear Crystal place which Archaon guessed was the Crystal shard atop his staff. There again was the shining orb of magic. He put his hand on it and thought of a strong summer breeze rushing through the trees and he tried to imitate one. To him and Merovaeus the result was quite satisfactory even though he was not the first one to finish; Tristana held that prize this time, and doing so adequately watered most of the nearby Garden and some wizards walking through it with a light but impressive shower of water. “Well done, all of you well done. But now your final task is quite tricky; you must manipulate the Magic while having your mind in the staff and still be aware of what is going on around you. This will be difficult but persist in it and you will succeed, a useful word might be “balance”. Merovaeus was right, doing this feat was both tricky and difficult.

Archaon tried to balance his mind in his staff and outside of it but his mind kept veering of to one or the other. Finally after some time he was able to create the gust of wind without his mind being totally absorbed in the staff; Though he was not the first to do this another student with the same staff that Archaon had seen earlier that looked as made of forged iron let loose a streak of fire just before Archaon succeeded then followed by Tristana. “Very good all of you, tomorrow gather here where you will meet your teachers. For now Practice what you have learned and look for things to occupy your self there’s the Garden, Library, Chess yard, and all sorts of nooks and crannies for you to explore.” Archaon lost track of Tristana so he resolved to go to the Garden, but on his way he got lost and found himself going down a wide hall with doors running along one side at intervals. Archaon peeked through one door and saw inside was a very large room filled with rows of shelves upon which books of all sorts rested gathering dust until some one had a need or interest to read one; This was the Library. Sylvan looked up from and old and slightly dusty desk and greeted Archaon “why, hello Archaon I will admit that I am surprised to see you here, for what purpose do you come?” “I meant to go to the Garden but I found myself lost and, ended up here.” “Well, since you’re in the Library, can you read or write?” “I was taught how to write my name a long time ago, but that is all”. “Here then, why don’t you show me” Sylvan drew out of a cubicle shelf a roll of spare parchment, and from his desk, long, carved, pen that had a steel, Lancelot shaped head out of which ink the color of pitch streamed out when used. With an unsteady and untrained hand Archaon wrote his name down on the parchment. “That’s a start,” said Sylvan. “Now, see that first symbol which starts your name?” “Yes.” “That is the letter A, the next letter looks like this,” Sylvan, in a quick and fluid motion, elaborately wrote the letter B. “Now you copy it.” Instructed Sylvan. This process continued for over half an hour and when they finished Sylvan made a chart using the letters of the alphabet. This he gave to Archaon along with the pen and parchment, and instructed him, after tomorrow’s lesson in Wizardry to return here for further practice in writing. “It may be difficult and frustrating now, but it will pay off in the future” encouraged Sylvan.

Archaon found Tristana in a passage way that led up into the Student corridors.

She told him about the Garden, which he had failed to find, and also of Lady Miscanthia, care taker of the garden.

Archaon opened the door to his room, set his staff in it’s rack, and lay down in his bed.

The night was quiet, and his sleep was deep…

Archaon Chapter 3 "The Assassin�s Assault"

Wed, 2 Apr 2008 21:37:00 -0500

Chapter III

The Assassin’s Assault

Archaon rushed through the busy streets bumping into almost as many people as he dodged as he tried to find Tristana. He stopped by a farmer selling yams, ginger root, and red radishes from a rackety wooden stall and asked, “Have you seen a girl slightly taller than myself, brown hair, and in a white linen garb like this?” Archaon indicated to his white robe from the wardrobe in his room, but the farmer gave him a quizzical look and went back to his business without a word. Archaon kicked the packed dirt out of frustration, but is merely hurt his toes, penning up more anger inside his rushing head. “Where is she, he said to himself? He rushed passed more villagers, and then stumbled to a halt trying to prevent bashing into a person slowly walking ahead of him. The person’s head was lowered probably scanning the ground for pools of “Muck water”; this person was wearing a tall pointed hat with a wide brim; just like the hat on the head wizard. But this one was dark blue with the phases of the moon encircling the base of the cone right above the wide brim, Archaon was in no mood for quaint introductions, so he just blurted out,” Have you seen a girl slightly taller than myself with long brown hair, and wearing a white garb like this?” The person looked up at him the brim of the hat revealing Tristana’s face. Archaon sighed with relief. “Do you like it?” Tristana indicated to her new hat with an innocent grin. He could not resist a smile at her childish but genuine excitement. “It is past mind-evening; we will have to hurry to make it back to the castle before dark,” Archaon said. They headed southward with the sun setting to there right. Soon it was dark,

It was a moonless night and the stars’ light was smothered by hazy clouds. Archaon thought he heard a faint whispering to his left; he looked a Tristana, “Did you hear that?” Tristana cocked her head and frowned. Then looking past Tristana he was a reddish glow illuminating some pinewoods that hadn’t been there before. Seeing Archaon’s confused expression Tristana span her head around to see the reddish in glow was a orb of fire. Suddenly the orb of fire shot towards them. Tristana reacted first; she slammed into Archaon knocking him to the ground, and then dove to the ground herself. The ball of fire missed them and charred a shrub near by, but then out of the woods stepped a tall figure cloaked in black robes, a hood covering his face. The figure seemed to be enveloped by a dark, misty shroud, and in his palm another ball of fire was forming. Archaon drew his dragon dagger in a flash and lunged at the ominous figure. But then a fully formed fire ball struck him charring his clothes and hurling him back. Tristana snatched the dagger, which had clattered to the ground a moment before. With striking speed she threw the dagger at the cloaked figure; mere inches for the figure the dagger froze in mid-air. The figure lifted his head, and Tristana saw a man’s face; a face that was deathly white with black markings streaking across the whiteness. Tristana went rigid at the sight of the man’s luminous, yellow eyes. The dagger still hovering in the air reversed its direction, and pointed at Tristana. Suddenly the dagger shot forward like an arrow but Tristana ducked in the nick of time and the dagger loged its self in the charred shrub.

Tristana saw the dagger and was about to pry it from the bush but then the dagger quivered and vibrated for a second and then flew from the shrub into the evil figures out stretched hand. The figure advanced towards Tristana the dagger raised above his head; he seemed to hover above the ground, never faltering in his step. As he loomed above Tristana, prepared to strike, but then did he pause, as if sensing something.

Suddenly he drew in a haggard breath, then let it out and crumpled to the ground.

And there stood Calien Mac Burl, a bloodied claymore in his hands.

Follow me, I know the a way through these woods to the wizards castle” said Calien Mac Burl.

“Are you sure of your description?” Asked the asked the head wizard. “Yes, I am sure” answered Tristana. The head wizard sighed “Very well then, off you go to bed now. Master Mac Burl will you come here I wish to speak to you…” Tristana did not like being excluded from the conversation and sent to bed like a young child and she lingered for a while until she feared she might provoke the head wizard to anger so she did as he said. Archaon had, against his will, been sent to the infirmary for the night because of the minor burns he had received. But soon regretted having consented to staying in the place for the night because the healers were constantly applying fresh salves, bandages, pads and always arguing over which salve was most effective for burns; each healer trying to place his or her favorite salve and removing the previous one. In the morning though after great persuasion he was finally released to his immense relief. After a short time of his freedom a thought occurred to him, what should he do next? As he pondered this he walked to the stone statue of the wizard in the courtyard with the four quadrants. Archaon sat down on the rim of the clear ringlet of water that was at the base of the statue. He found it pleasant sitting below the tall stone wizard his wide brimmed hat provided sufficient shade for his somewhat skinny body. Archaon’s moment of relaxation was abruptly cut short when some one grabbed him by his tunic and started dragging him off to somewhere in the central part of the castle. “And I cut in front of the others till I got to the very front of the line; only to find out I hadn’t cut in front of you! Didn’t you hear a word the old man on the fancy chair said? TOMORROW YOU WILL EACH SELECT YOUR OWN STAFF! Now pick your lead feet up off the ground and RUN! Archaon tried his best to keep up with Tristana but it was hard with her grabbing the back of his tunic and pulling him forwards. Tristana took him to a large building with a sign above the door depicting a staff, the last of the line had just entered and Tristana rushed through them with eager anticipation and Archaon followed. The interior of the building was an old library as it appeared but now, every inch of shelves and walls had been lines with dozens of staffs. Some staffs were wooden with a stone or jewel fixed to the top, others were made entirely of wood and on looked as it had been forged out of solid iron in a smithy. Archaon supposed he should look for a staff the he liked, as others had already begun to do so. He examined several staffs, one he took of a rack, it was a wooden one and at the top the wood divided and formed an intricate knot of twisting wood; But then out of the corner of his eye he saw a girl of a younger age than he was approach and upon seeing him with the staff in his hand became melancholy and downcast so out of sympathy he put the staff back. For it was clear that she had taking a liking to the staff but gone on to make sure there no others that she would prefer and upon making a decision she had come back to take it for herself. Archaon went on searching for “the perfect staff”. After a while of looking, staring, gazing and of course, touching; he found a seemingly unorganized pile of staffs, he sifted through them trying to avoid banging them together as much as possible. At the bottom of the pile he found a staff very similar to the one he had taken of the rack earlier except the wood seemed to have been beached a pale white, and at the top the wood divided into many segments that wrapped the lower part of a oval shaped crystal shard that had many different angles shaping it. The light which came through the building entrance was absorbed by the crystal and projected out in many different directions. “I was wondrin’ who would get that one” Said the man standing behind the desk at the entrance when he saw Archaon with the white Crystal headed staff. Archaon was confused by this remark, and the man, clearly seeing this said, “That there staff you got yer’ self is a rare indeed. You see normally when magic is made in a staff its made by the jewel, stone, or whatever thins’ on top or sometimes just in the staff itself; But yours, the magic comes from both the staff and that crystal on top, probably comes together in the crystal as that has the greater magic out-put. Now take yer’ staff to old Finaes in the main courtyard so he can teach ya how to use it.

Archaon Chapter 2 A Day in the Village with a New Friend

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 21:29:00 -0500

Chapter II

A Day in the Village with a New Friend

Archanon’s room was plain and simple. The only objects in the room were a small bed in the far left corner near a narrow window and opposite of the bed was a Maple wardrobe. Inside this wardrobe were two neatly fold robes. One robe was made of simple white linen. The other robe was woven of midnight blue satin with sliver embroidered stars. “I must be dreaming,” he thought in excitement. He tried all manners he could think of to awaken himself. He thought the moment to put faith with reality of this mysterious event; it would fade away like a fog and reveal a bare field under the scorching sun. Archaon finally ceased trying to wake himself and concluded that if it was a dream it was a good one, and he would journey through it. He finished looking over his empty room, which also include a small study desk at the foot of the bed. Archaon also noticed two elaborately carved brackets mounted on the same wall as the wardrobe. He guessed these brackets would hold his future staff. Archaon lied down on his bed, he almost decided to take a nap because the bed was so much more comfortable compared to the straw floor in the peasant shack.

Archaon left his room and explored many hallways covered with stain glass windows, dusty closets, and high vaulted ceilings before he came to a winding column of stairs. It was the only stair case he had ever walked in his life and seemed endlessly long, but when he reached the top he saw the surroundings of the castle. He looked at all the many turrets of the castle, then he noticed to the left of the castle was a large oak forest; probably filled with boars, deer, fowl, and other hunting game. Breaking apart from the castle main road was small winding roads that appeared to lead to a small village in the middle of a rolling hillside. “Ahhh, looks like we have another new student exploring the castle, but on his own! Enjoying the view are you?” Archaon nodded yes. “I’m Sylvan the castle’s librarian and scribe.” Sylvan was a tall, thin man, but had a kind face and gentle hands. “May I go to the village,” asked Archaon? Archaon did not expect to be allowed to go. “Yes, but you must take Tristana here with you.” Sylvan indicated to a girl standing behind him. She was dressed in a blue robe similar to his white one. “Here is five sliver marks (marks was what I originally had, the writing was scratchy because I kept writing stuff like denari, shekels and the like and then changing it) each; in case you find something in the village you want, but spend it wisely. So Archaon and Tristana left the castle and walled down the road to the village.

By the time Archaon and Tristana were nearing the village they had become fast friends. They had so much time that told each other their life’s story, from as far back as they could remember to the time they met each other with Sylvan on the castle’s turret.

Tristana’s tale was about her scavenging experiences. She lived in an alley most of the time. She was always locking picking and sneaking around. She frequently took on disguises; and once she snuck into Roderick the Wealthy’s treasury chamber pretending to be a guard assistant, after out witting and befuddling the guard and convincing the guard of her false purpose.

Archaon’s life story was similar in one or another, like the many times he had to smuggle food for him and the other peasants to keep them from starving. Though not as grand he had done a similar feat by snatching roast mutton during the land owner’s supper from under the landowner’s very nose! A fellow peasant distracted the land owner by calling his mother a weasel and him and a dangerously fat ferret and then dashing of be fore the scullery maid could catch him.

Archaon (who had crawled under the dinning table) took the opportunity and reached up from under the table and snatched the roast mutton of the landowner’s platter.

But his location was revealed, for when he saw the flustered expression on the landowner’s face seeing his supper mysteriously gone, he could not suppress his laughter and soon there was an earnest game of “cat and mouse” between Archaon and the scullery maid….the mouse won.

Once Archaon and Tristan had entered the village they were completely battered by all the different types of smells, sights, and sounds as well as the swarm of people covering the streets. Archaon and Tristana heard the clanging of a smith hammering iron with iron. They slowly weaved their way through the dense crowd heading toward the sound of the smith. When they finally arrived to the black smith’s shop they saw a young apprentice filing away at a hoe’s blade. When the apprentice noticed them he called behind him over the sound of the clanging hammer “Master Conan!” The clanging ceased and a sweaty smith came out to see them. “May I interest you two into some of my works younglings,”Archaon asked, “Is there anything you would recommend to us; we are new students at the wizard school.” “Well,” the black smith began, “I have a set of knives and daggers on this table here, and over there in that corner is some trinkets you might take a fancy too. While Tristana was toying with a whimsical trinket, Archaon scanned over the skillfully crafted daggers. While scanning the daggers his eyes came across a dagger that had a hilt in the form of a dragon; the dragon’s head was the dagger’s pommel its scaly neck forms the hand grip, the wings spread out to form the cross-guard, and the tail is running down the first quarter of the blade. “Sir, I would like to buy this one, but I only have a five silver marks,” Archaon said. “Four will do fine, but I can give you a well-crafted cloak clasp for the fifth one,” the black smith said. “I’ll buy it even though I do not have a cloak yet,” Archaon said simply. The clasp that Conan gave to Archaon was probably worth more than just one silver mark, but Archaon did not know this until he showed Sylvan. Archaon who had never possessed any type of a currency After, thanking Conan for his time, Archaon and Tristana returned to the busteling streets and soon heard the clanging of the black smith’s hammer again.

Archaon and Tristiana unaware that they had made their way to the far north side of the village and away from the crowds. They walked along this less beaten path, when another sound came to Archaon’s ears; this was not the sound of a hammer clanging in a black smith’s shop. It was the sound of a swift rhythm of a Highland tune picked with skilled full hands on a mandolin, accompanied by a man’s voice. Archaon quickened his pace and headed towards the beautiful sound and soon he stood in front of a grey-headed man playing a mandolin that looked older than the one picking and they stood there and listened.

Now’s the day, now’s the hour;

See the front o’ battle lour;

See approach proud masters’ power-

Chains and Slavery?

Who will be a traitor-knave?

Who can fill a coward’s grave?

Who see he as but a slave?

Let him turn and flee!

(Whom is) for country king and law?

Freedoms sword will strongly draw;

Freeman stand, freeman falls.

Let him follow me!

By oppressions’ woes and pain!

By your sons in servile chains!

We will drain our dearest reins,

But they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!

Tyrants fall in every foe!

Liberties in every blow-

Let us do or die!

(this is temporary unfortunately it is a song from a book I read and I need a song that I have created).

“Who is it that listens to Cailien MacBurl’s All But forgotten song,” said the minstrel Archaon faintly heard the words, as if he was being roused from a dream. Then he hastily mustered a reply, “Archaon, a new comer of the wizard school.” “Do you like my song; high wizard to be,” the man said. “They are arousing,” replied Archaon. It seemed to be a fitting complement because of the event in the song, but yet it was the exact opposite that had happened to Archaon. Archaon had seemed to have fallen into some sort of dream. Archaon imagined a grizzled knight trotting back and forth in front of his ragged and weary men, arousing them to fight for their freedom. “Many years ago, my people were under oppression. A young warrior rose up gave my people the courage to fight back, but in the final battle both sides were annihilated. The young warrior that had given hope to my people disappeared along with his legendary sword, which was the longest in the land.” The Archaon noticed something; something was missing… Tristana! “Forgive me master MacBurl, but I must go.” Archaon said in a panic. “Be on your way then, Archaon,” said Calien MacBurl.

Archaon Chapter 1 "From Peasantry to Wizardry"

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 11:22:00 -0500

I need a real title for this book. I will be posting the next chapter every now and then currently I am working on the 5th chapter so keep you eyes peeled for new entries.

Chapter I

From Peasantry to Wizardry

Archaon was a twelve year-old peasant. He worked in the fields of a noble, Roderick the Wealthy of Hickory Shire. He toiled each day by breaking the clods of dirt a part left behind from the plow along with dozens of other peasants. Until, on the night of mid-summer’s eve as he laid shivering in the wattle and daub peasant shack unable to sleep, despite his exhaustion from the day of work, when he heard a rasping knock at the wicker door. Though why someone would be knocking at a peasant shack and after the stroke of twelve he couldn’t guess. As he shuffled clumsily to the door; the knock on the door became increasingly faster and louder. When he opened the door and something hard hit him and pain slid over his whole shin, but due to his weariness the pain was unnoticeable.

“Oh, sorry about that fellow,” said the tall and dark figure silhouetted against the starry sky, with a staff in his hand, will you come with me, to where I live? I promise to provide you with good food, shelter, and most valuable you will learn, practice, of wizardry.” Archaon being a peasant had no idea of what wizardry, sorcery, witchcraft, or any other type of magic was, but at the prospects of good food and shelter, his will was quite bendable.

“Good, do you have any possessions or things of value you wish to keep?” Archaon slowly began to nod his head side to side; meaning no. “No one ever seems to these days,” mumbled the odd man. “Then will you accept my offer and come with me. Archaon accepted. The strange man led him to a cross road on the edge of Roderick the Wealthy’s land. Here he saw several robed figures all cloaked and mounted on horses with a child saddled in front of them. Archaon and the man that had beckoned him here took the same position as the other cloaked riders. Where they were going or which way they took to get there He once again could not guess because. Soon after the company began their journey Archaon’s body finally succumbed to sleep.

Archaon was awakened by the odd man gently shaking him. “Wake up, wake up, come on you sleepy thing wake up,” The man said in an irritated voice. Archaon arose to find himself surrounded by a stone barbican of a castle. The company passed through a court yard divided into four equally divided quadrants, by a sand stone walkway. Archaon followed the path with his eyes to the center were all four quadrants met and there stood a lichen-dappeled statue, surrounded by a ring of sparkling water, depicting a wizard with a pointed, wide-brimmed hat, a staff in his right hand, long flowing robe, and a abundant beard that hung all the way to the wizard’s scripted belt. They continued on through four smaller courtyards all in a similar design, but each with unique and very different ground characteristics.

Entering the first courtyard Archaon saw extremely thick, and lush, green grass. The second, however, was brown, shriveled, and even charred in some areas; The third courtyard had ground that looked as if it had been plowed up by a mad ox. Lastly, the fourth yard had grass that was blown flat to the ground in random patterns, creating tuffs and riges, as if stormy winds had chosen that field over the others to blow it over.

They passed through a carefully tended garden, a very small courtyard with people young and old, playing chess and there were many robed people striding this way and that. When the company reached the castle, Archaon and the other children were led through many hallways, vaults, and corridors until they reached the Great Hall. The Great Hall had four long tables running lengthwise with the Great Hall, then there was a table that ran perpendicular to the four other tables, and at the far back of the room was a large throne like chair with velvet fabric and a dark wood frame. In the chair sat an elderly wizard with his staff across his lap and ornate wizard hat upon his head.

“Welcome, children. You have been brought here from slavery, peasantry, being beggars, and orphans; to live here with food, shelter, company, and most valuable the learning of wizardry. Does anybody have any objections to this?” No one replied and the only sound heard was the shuffling of children’s feet. “Good, I was hoping no one would. Tomorrow, you will each select your own staff, your staff will allow you to manipulate and use the magic that is generated in the staff. Once you have received your staff you will be classified as a minor wizard, once you have learned and can comprehend all of the basic ways using your staff; you will then be recognized as a wizard. Once you have mastered the art of wizardry, you will be ranked as an Arch Wizard. Being an Arch Wizard enables you to replace the current head wizard if you are appointed by him, the current head wizard is, me Finaes Ridiax. So we are clear, you are to work- nay, persist in increasing your experience and moving though the ranks; take your time and do it right. Now, appointed wizards will take you to your rooms. You are allowed to personalize your rooms anyway you wish, unless it is damaging to the castle or its contents. Tomorrow your training will begin as minor wizards, Farewell….”