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A word on Wizards (cont): In many stories, Wizards are grumpy old men living in remote places. Supposedly they are wise, antisocial, seem to say “Don’t touch that!” a lot, have huge libraries that fit into a small room and aren’t physically well toned. This is far from the truth.
Eric awoke in a strange house, wearing ill fitting clothes and feeling rather hungry. Rising from his too-small bed he decided to go and find the owner of the house and demand to be taken back home. His plans were slowed when he bumped his head whilst walking out the door. Maybe just some food for now, he thought while he rubbed his head. After carefully making his way downstairs, he came to a small kitchen. There he met his host.
“Finally up are ya?” said his host, a dwarf.
His host was short with long red hair and a long beard covered in intricately runed beads.
“Well talk will ya? Whats ya name?”
Eric hadn’t noticed that he was staring.
“Eric, son of Joanas.I'm from Zamar” he replied.
“Hrothgil(Hroth-gill), White light of Anchorage. Now boy, how did ya get to be driftin down the river?” Hrothgil said in his thick dwarvish accent.
“I was... attacked by the village executioner. He attacked me, which sent me flying off the town bridge. I blacked out and now I'm here. How did you get me out?”
“I frove the river and pulled ya out.”
“Froze?!” Eric exclaimed.
“Aye, froze. I am the White light of Anchorage after all. Such a thing is only challenging to apprentices. Don't tell any apprentices I said that. After all, I teach some of the legions students.”
“Whats the Legion.” Eric asked.
“The Wizards Legion. Ya Pa musn't have taught ya much.”
This reminded Eric of something “My Father will be worried sick. Can we go to Zamar?”
“Aye. I'll just pop inta town for some horses and tell the Adept what I'm doing.”
“Can we hurry.”
Then someone, or something, made a noise. Eric could have sworn he heard a voice whisper his name.
“What was that?” Eric asked, looking all around the room.
“That ma boy, is the whisper of a spirit.” Hrothgil replied.
“What's a spirit?”
“When someone dies, they leave behind a soul and a spirit. I won't get into details, but someones spirit is nearby and because I can use light magic I can hear when it hasn't been brought forth. That means that you can use light magic if you have some training. I'll bring em forth.”
Hrothgil brought his hands out in front of himself and began to make some strange motions. With one final flick of his wrist, a spirit, transparent and blue, appeared in front of Hrothgil and Eric. The spirit was a tall male in the prime of his life. He seemed familiar to Eric even though he had never seen a man like this his entire life.
“What be yer name, Spirit?” Hrothgil asked.
“Joanas.” The spirit replied.
Eric suddenly realised why he looked so familiar. This was his fathers spirit, however it looked like his father would have twenty years ago. Eric let out a choked sob.
“Eric, what be wrong?” Hrothgil asked
Before he could answer, tears started streaming down his face and Joanas embraced him and began comforting him. Without knowing it, Eric brought his fathers spirit into his body. Without his father to support him, Eric fell to the floor. Eric screamed in rage and suddenly burst into fire, burning the tears from his face. Eric and his clothes were not burnt. The same could not be said for the house. Hrothgil ran from the building, not wantiing to be caught in the inferno. The fire began to consume the house, causing it to fall down around him. Then Hrothgil stepped in. Using his water magic he took mass amounts of water from the river and began dousing the fire. Once this was finished, Hrothgil turned the water towards Eric. Eric noticed this and tried to fight back. Though his magic was raw and powerful, it was easily doused by Hrothgils, who was practiced and precise in his art.
With the fire stopped, Hrothgil tentatively walked into the smoking rubble, barely able to see ahead. Eric's suden anger had stopped just as the fire had. With his anger forgotten, a strange sad calmness had overcame him. He sat amongst the rubble, curled into a ball, salty tears slowly going down his face until they fell to the ground. As he sat his body slowly became covered in a light layer of frost. Soon the tears stopped falling and were replaced by teardrop shaped pieces of ice. Hrothgil walked over to Eric and sat down.
“I'm sorry Hrothgil.” Eric sobbed, bringing his knees close and pushing his face into them.
“No need Eric,” Hrothgil replied, patting Erics shoulder “I know what it's like to lose someone important.”
“Who was it.”
“I don't want to open old wounds so i'll only say this once. My son, Tiphram(Tye-fram), was banished. There was no way he could have survived.”
A single, lonely tear ran down Hrothgils face.
“Who was your wife?” Eric asked
“She left me when Tiphram was banished. I know not where she is know.” Hrothgil sighed.
“What now?” Eric asked, all sadness gone.
“Anchorage and then The Legions Tower.”
“Can we go to Zamar first? My father said that if anything ever went wrong I was to take his rings. It'll give me something to remember him by as well.”
Hrothgil seemed to think about this for awhile.
“We will go to Zamar then. First I will gather what I can from the rubble and then have go to Anchorage. I must talk to Marxus(Marx-is).”