BEST FOR THIS

“...with ancient past begun anew

from whence the varied legends grew...”

Sendyn Vohari Sendi I

2:2:2:2/5, III:XV

“Are you caught up on your lessons for now?”

Farwen looked up at the old cartographer, sensing something different in his mentor’s voice today. “Yes, master. I finished the seaport yesterday, and now I’m reviewing contour lines, from the foothills you marked last week.”

“Splendid!” The old man’s warm brown eyes glittered with excitement. “Set that aside for now, and come. I have a new project, for the both of us.”

“Master?” Intrigued, Farwen docked his quill and rose, following his renowned teacher through the apprentice hall and into his private study. “What project?”

With a wave, the old master sent a bit of magic to close the door, and he bade Farwen sit at the stately desk. “I am old, Farwen. You must have noticed.” The youth chuckled at that, fond of the lines in the old man’s face, the long hair and brows gone white with age. “But I was young, once. I have seen many things, Farwen.”

The old master paused, gesturing again for his apprentice to sit at the helm of his desk. Hands clasped behind his back, the old man did not sit, instead pacing around the room. His excitement was catching, especially as Farwen noticed the quills and blank sheets of paper stacked neatly on the desk where he took his seat.

“Surely, master, no other man has seen more of the world than you have, let alone mapped it in such detail.” His words hung in half-question, and the old man could only laugh.

“I have stories,” he divulged, bright and sincere. “The things I have seen, Farwen! The legends I have lived and fought alongside. I must write out their tales, lest the truth of their lives die with me.”

“You’re dying?!” The dismay in his voice splintered with shock. “But... aren’t you immortal, master?”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

The old man chortled, “I have grown to believe otherwise. No more immortal than a dragon, I’m afraid.” Farwen looked troubled, and his master smiled. “Fear not! I still have a good century, I imagine, if not more. And a grand thing too – these stories will take a while.”

Farwen lifted a quill and twirled it in his fingers. “You... said this was our project, master?”

“Yes, I’d like you to scribe for me. Would you mind?”

The youth spluttered. “Mind?”

“I wouldn’t impose upon your studies, child.”

Rising to his feet, Farwen struggled for words. “This would be my greatest honor, master.”

“Good! I thought you might like it. And may I assign you some maps to accompany the story? I recall your fascination with the techniques for mapping lands unseen.”

Farwen felt almost faint, and he sank back into his master’s chair. “Yes! Is that why you chose me, master? I’m not your best student, by far.”

“Best for this,” the old man praised. “We’ll see, Farwen. Let’s start with the first tale and see if it grows on you.”

“Yes, master!” Unable to help himself, Farwen saluted, and the old cartographer grinned.

“I suppose the first tale should start at the beginning, then. These will be my tales of the Known World as I have mapped it, stories both witnessed by me and collected from others, the culmination of my long travels.”

Farwen was already scrawling down his words, and the old master laughed. “Bear with me as I get going,” he entreated, his eyes becoming distant as he stepped lightly through the room.

The youth recalled in a flash the day he’d come to apprentice beneath the legendary map-maker. Too anxious to sit, he’d paced the room, just a boy of nine, while the old master sat genially in the chair Farwen now occupied. And after a decade half over, the man’s wrinkled face was not a day older.

“To begin is difficult. But we can make repairs later, after the story is out on the page, yes?”

Breathless and eager, Farwen nodded. “Grand, then. Now, this first story shall be of beginnings, for many legends were born from the same nexus. This is the tale of my beginning, Farwen, and the start of the Everlord, before his becoming.”

“You know the Everlord, master?”

The old man laughed. “Oh, yes. The Everlord and the Gateway, and even the Warmaster. Yet others, too. Many stories began in that same place, long ago and far away.” Farwen admitted a sound between a laugh and a sob. “Are you all right, my boy?”

“Yes! Just so... honored that you picked me.”

“Best for this,” the old man repeated, and he settled into his story.