When he chose to approach his uncle who kept hammering down on some strange object being obscured by his uncle’s figure, he stood behind him just a few feet away and chose to announce himself when they lifted the hammer up into the air. “Uncle?”

The hammer fell out of his uncle’s hand and he practically jumped out of his skin. “My dear boy, I’m afraid you caused my spirit to flee from my body for a brief moment.”

“Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”

“Ah, it’s quite alright. It’s my fault for being so easily spooked.” He carefully stuffed away a palm-sized object that had a bluish-white illuminating hue straight into one of his pockets.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” he said looking around.

“That thing you put in your pocket.”

He pulled his gloved hand out of his pocket. “My hand?”

“No, that shiny rock-like thing you just had out on the runic slab.”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you’re talking about. And all of that light and hammering you must’ve heard, it was a thing of your imagination. Think of it as a little ploy I played on you for my entertainment.”

“Uh-huh. You going to keep on going on like this or are you going to tell me what that thing is?”

“Ah alright. I suppose it’s not that big of a deal if you know about this thing. You’re to keep it a secret though, you hear? Your father would be very angry with me if he knew I’d let you know about it.”

“Is it that big of a deal for me to keep it a secret?”

“Yes, incredibly so in fact. You’re a good lad though so I trust you.” He pulled it out of his pocket with his gloved hand and put it on the runic altar. “This thing just so happens to be a piece of an arcane root.”

“Are you serious? That’s an arcane root? I thought those were impossible to have possession of.”

“That is what we all believed to be the case but there was a miraculous find recently. From what we understood, arcane roots were all supposed to be buried so far below the ground, that we would never be able to get our hands on them. And yet, despite that belief, there was an arcane root recently unearthed not all that far from the surface which suggests that arcane roots are in fact capable of being retrieved. It was an incredibly unusual and unexpected find and as you can imagine, a bit frightening.”

“Is that what Father is dealing with?”

“That and among other things. Listen boy, arcane roots are quite literally the root of all magic in this world. This thing is made up wholly of pure arcane energy. Here, try holding it and tell me what you feel. But first, put on this glove. You never want to hold onto something like this barehanded unless you know what you’re doing.”

He took off his glove and had Raelle put it on. He forced the glove onto his hand realizing that if he touched this thing with his bare skin he might not like what happens then.

He carefully grabbed the piece of arcane root and at first, he felt nothing. But the longer he held onto it, the more he thought he felt a presence begin to fill his insides with its energy.

“You feel it, don’t you?”

Raelle nodded his head and put it back on the runic table as the strange energy flooded into him at a quickening rate. “That feeling you’re sensing is your body being swelled with magical energy at an overwhelming rate. As you can imagine, having the capability to absorb magical energy at a rapid pace can serve many uses. Not all of which are particularly good.”

“Are there more of these pieces of an arcane root out there?”

“There are a few. We have been trying to figure out how to destroy them. Alas, to no avail have we managed it. Just watch for yourself.”

He took the hammer and slammed it against it. A bright light pulsed from the palm-sized object the moment the hammer struck it.

“We have tried other methods. Many methods that if you witnessed it, you would think it must’ve turned to dust. And yet that was not the case. No matter what we seemingly try to do to these smaller pieces, they always remain intact.”

His eyes drifted towards the glowing arcane root. “If it’s indestructible, how did you retrieve these pieces from the unearthed arcane root?”

“They were already broken off. The unearthed root we found was quite large and every attempt to take a piece off of it has not translated into results. But it was later agreed upon that no further attempts would be made and the uncovered pieces were to be kept in, responsible hands let’s say.”

“So you’re experimenting then to destroy them?”

“Precisely. And so far, hammering it hasn’t produced any results. I’ve tried a few other methods dowsing it into alchemical substances. So far nothing appears to work. I fear I will hear that none of the others have uncovered a viable manner to destroy it including your father.”

He seemed so desperate to destroy this newly attained power. He began to question why that was the case. “Would it not make sense to use these arcane roots for yourselves? If they’re so powerful wouldn’t it ensure dominance over any transgressors?”

“Many others brought up the same point during a particular scathing meeting between many minds recently. Yes of course they could be used to defend our country and our people along with neighboring countries and allies. They’re undoubtedly useful for purposes of good. But evil exists and there are those who would gladly do everything in their own power to get their hands on these or go out searching for them. It’s our responsibility to safeguard them and ideally destroy them.”

His uncle wrapped the glowing small piece of an arcane root and stuck it carefully into one of his pockets. “Our world is sadly not indestructible. I fear what those with the wrong intentions would do with these things or if they got their hands on a much larger unearthed root. And since you are now aware of these matters to some extent, do these circumstances perhaps ease your mind towards your father’s intention to focus on them?”

“I—” He was unsure. He was supposed to say yes, but he still didn’t think it reasonable. “It is concerning I suppose, but it doesn’t ease my mind or I don’t think so at least.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Have you read that letter I gave you first thing this morning?”

“Not yet.”

“I suggest you read it before you go to sleep.”

“Alright, I’ll be certain to.”

“Good lad. Now, let us resign away for the day. I fear I must sleep or I am oft to make some manner of mistake that I will regret the day after.”

Right as Raelle began to leave and head up the staircase, he stopped as he called out to him.

“Oh, and boy. You must without a doubt keep all that you’ve just now learned to yourself.”

“I will uncle.” He meant it when he said it. He wouldn’t tell a single person about what he learned today. Nothing about unearthed arcane roots or how it had made him feel when holding one with a gloved hand. Not a word of it would be muttered from his own lips.

When he reached his bedroom, it had become fully dark outside. He looked out noticing a full moon out and all the wonderful stars that filled the night sky.

He pulled off his boots and headed over towards his desk where he had dropped off his letter earlier. He sat down preparing to read it.

To you my son, it said in his father’s writing on the front. He unsealed the envelope and pulled out the page which had been folded to fit the envelope. He unfolded it and began to read.

Dear Raelle, I’m sorry that I am not able to visit you this time. I deeply regret this and I write to you specifically to apologize. You and your sister need me, but I fear there are grave dangers that require my absence from your sides. I cannot be very specific due to the possibility that this letter could end up seized by troublesome adversaries but know that I am absent for good reasons. I believe that in the coming weeks I will be afforded an opportunity to return home for a while. I cannot say when, unfortunately, but I am hopeful that it will come sooner than either of us may realize. So be well my son. And know that we will see each other again soon.

His father Lorvath Eisel had signed the page at the right bottom corner with his unique fancy signature.

After reading a letter that sounded familiar to the last ten he had sent out, he ended up scrunching it up with his fists and throwing it across his room.

He began to mutter curse after curse in a fit of anger.

An unsatiated rage took him like a storm barreling on through. He began to grip the edge of his desk as immense heat radiated off his forehead. His fingernails dug slightly into the wood while he felt the pressure intensify in his head.

“Raelle?”

When his sister called to him from outside his bedchamber, he released his grip from his desk and tried to calm himself. However, the anger nor the pressure in his head would subside.

“What do you want?” he said practically yelling.

She decided to open his door slowly. It made a bit of a creaking sound as she did so.

“Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright.”

He still sat at his desk not even wanting to look at her. His rage-infused head felt as if it would be set aflame at any second. His arms and fists tensed up and pleaded for him to release that tension somehow.

Why does he have to be this way? Can he not even change the message he writes to me? He can’t even do that to show that he actually cares. That bastard.

Her arms came over him while he sat there at his desk. Her hands interlocked around his chest and then after a short period, she unlocked them to brush one of her delicate hands along the backside of his hair.

“It’ll be alright my little brother,” she said in an almost whisper tone. “It’s alright. Everything will be alright.”

He felt so pathetic. Tears began to fall down his face. And there was nothing more mortifying than crying before his sister.

“I’m here for you. Just calm down and relax.” She kept motioning her fingers through his black hair and speaking calmly into his ear.

He stopped tensing up his hand and arms allowing them to fall naturally to his side.

“It’s not right,” he said. “It’s not right…” It was one thing for his mother to be absent. She had been dead since his birth after all. But his father was still alive. Surely, just surely he could be in their lives like he used to be when they were both much younger.

“Come, sit with me.”

She led him to his bedside choosing to sit to his right. She sat her hands in her lap and had her feet dangling above the ground as she sat there beside him.

“I know it’s hard,” she began saying. “I hate that he’s not able to be around us more too. It’s certainly not fair. It’s also certainly not right. But it’s also the way of things. We can either allow ourselves to become so filled with rage, that we may possibly lose our minds, or we can accept things as they are and come to peace with it.”

“Come to peace with it? How am I supposed to do that?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I did somehow though so it’s certainly possible. I wish I could give you a straight answer but I’m clueless as to how. I suppose it’s a mental or spiritual thing. Maybe our uncle could be of help there. He’s a sorcerer after all and they practically know everything so why wouldn’t he not know something about this?”

He didn’t want to be angry anymore. It just made him feel terrible. This headache that he now possessed did what good exactly? Nothing. It did nothing positive for him at all. Just accept things as they are and come to peace with it.

“It might also just be an age thing,” she continued to say. “I remember when I was fourteen so I get it. Are you at least feeling better now?”

“Besides the headache, I guess a little.”

“Good.” She kissed him on the forehead. “Let that make it go away then.”

His cheeks turned red. They always did when she chose to kiss him like that. She ended up smiling noticing his reaction which just caused him to blush even more.

“Just try to get some rest tonight and I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time at all.”

Amberilla left his bedchamber leaving him to his own thoughts. She had come at the right time. Although the headache did in fact still exist, it was at least not getting worse. Whenever he tensed up so much it always escalated to the point of feeling like jagged knives cut through his head. But she had prevented it from getting to that stage. He was thankful for that and tried to remind himself of her choice of words.

Despite also being disappointed in their father not being able to be there for them as much as they wanted, she had managed to come to peace with it unlike him who still bickered and got angry over it.

What sense is there for me to be this way? Perhaps I really should just emulate her. It sure would make things easier.

It also didn’t necessarily mean that he had to be completely fine with their father’s action to always be absent. He could still wish for it to be the other way around, but getting angry over it was starting to grow old. I need to try harder to control that part of me. I can make it work, can’t I?

He sunk into his bed throwing the covers and sheets over his body. His head came to rest on the pillow and he looked up to the high ceiling noticing the moonlight lighting up the interior of his bedchamber.

The lull of sleep soon approached. His eyes began to close and open repeatedly as the seconds moved on. Sleep always came to him at a decent rate. So long as he wasn’t on edge about something. Since his sister had calmed him down, he managed to be in a suitable state of mind now that would grant him access to the unconscious state that everyone eventually participated in.

His eyes continually drifted from closed to open. Closed to open. Closed to open. And one moment more led him to the dark recesses of sleep into a world of dreams.