As Ari opened the gate to his pasture, the sheep slowly made their way out single file. Each one stopped to be scratched on the head as they exited. The first out was the bigger of the two rams for this flock, a young and feisty ram that seemed to only begrudgingly accept Ari’s presence. The older stayed to leave last. Ari never knew that the simple animals had such intelligence and could understand so much, but even with the ones that didn’t enjoy his presence as much he felt a connection. It was more than just an emotional bond, it was almost like he could tell there was something not quite physical tethering him to them. At first, he was a lousy shepherd when he had the flock purchased for him. A man came out to teach him the ways, but after about a week the man left scratching his head. He told Ari that he was a natural with the animals, and now that they have settled down a bit he shouldn’t have any more issues.
Originally, Ari planned to get a dog to help him keep them, but the sheep had no natural predators nearby in the rolling plains. There was once said to be a smaller wolf-like creature that resided in the tall grass, but some thousand or so years ago they were driven out. Ari followed his flock as they headed exactly where he wanted them to. Occasionally he had to nudge a younger sheep with the crook when they tried to go about in some direction he didn’t desire. He thoroughly enjoyed being with his friends. He took them out usually twice a day, and sometimes they would just go out into the fields of wild grass and stay a few days at a time. They would head to a creek or follow some other waterline and explore their surroundings until Ari ran low on rations and decided to return. He really spent more time at the house sleeping or gardening than anything else, food was usually delivered to him at the end of every week.
He reached into his pack on his shoulder to grab one of Quincy’s journals, but found that the scroll was sitting in his pack. A slip of paper from another journal was wrapped up with it in twine. ‘When did Cyrus do this?’ He pulled out the slip and opened it to read what was written on it. It was written in High Henos but the instructions were the phonetic spelling of the Krazhnori language with the binding word of the ritual underlined, ‘Mo’borazh.’ The word meant something akin to struggle. He recalled that was what a lot of the Krazhnori people in the empire called the war. The struggle. He wondered if those fighting the empire called it different. ‘Was it a simple struggle when you were outnumbered and facing a retinue of armed Henosyrian Armored Knights? Or when you were being drowned in a wave of crossbow bolts and javelins from a several thousand strong army of recruits and irregulars.’ He couldn’t decide if using the word that Krazhnori in Henos called the war a genius way to hide the binding ritual or a mockery of the reality of what his people went through. He further read the note, and nodded to himself before unfurling the scroll and removing a small knife he kept on his belt.
He placed the unrolled scroll on his lap, rereading the deed again, then held his open left hand palm facing himself over the scroll. With his right hand, trembling with the knife, he cut an ‘X’ into his open palm and hissed in pain. After the first few drops of blood touched down on the scroll, he spoke the word “Mo’borazh.” The slip containing the instruction went up in flame, and all the nerves in his body followed suit before he passed out-screaming.
He wasn’t sure when it was that he woke up, but looking at the position of the sun he figured it was just after lunch. The scroll was now furled again and it was resting right on his lap. The knife had fallen to his side, and when he looked at the palm of his hand he couldn’t see even a trace of the ritual self-mutilation. He gaped for a second, then looked around and noticed all the flock had surrounded him. A few of them were resting but most of them seemed alert and like they were just waiting for the opportunity to wake him if an emergency happened. Ari put the knife away into his belt-sheath, and grabbed the scroll before he slowly unrolled it once more. When it was fully revealed to him, he just stared confused. It looked exactly the same. The young man figured he might need to speak the word once more, but just as he thought it a transformation occurred.
Starting from the center of the scroll and moving out, a wave of golden embers spread across the scroll completely transformed it. Unlike the instructions, this was written in true Krazhnori. The language was written primarily in a beautiful circular script. Sentences and phrases started in the center, and spiraled out to form more intricate meaning. It was absolutely gorgeous. And completely useless because Ari never learned how to read the language and could only barely speak it properly. He looked at it for a few moments before laughing out loud, and the scroll transformed again as he rolled it back up. It was clear to him that before he could start learning the secrets of druidic magic and his people, he first needed to go back to practicing his letter.
He hopped to his feet and started to get ready to bring his flock home, when he noticed a strange smell in the air. It was acrid, akin to something burning but he couldn’t quite tell what. Ari turned over his shoulder to look in the direction the wind was blowing just in time to see a man materialize a few feet above the ground. Once he was fully formed he hovered for a moment before dropping to the earth bonelessly. Ari stared in shock for a moment, before rushing over to where the man landed. As he got closer he realized there were some recognizable things about him. He wore the robes and finery that he associated with descriptions of the Imperial Mages, or ‘Wizards” as Cyrus called them. Just as he was slowing down and getting close, a voice spoke out to him in High Henos.
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“Young man, in my pack I have a vial of red liquid please feed it to me.” He paused for a moment before speaking again this time in Low Henos. “Ah. You probably don’t speak the higher tongue, sorry lad. Could you please-” Before the man could continue, Ari rushed over and grabbed the vial from his pack and turned the man over more to see his face. He drew in a sharp breath. This man seemed ageless. He had long pointed ears, and flowing white-gold hair on an angular and androgynous face. The only reason Ari seemed sure he was a man was because of his tone of voice, and the fact that he used the masculine “I” of High Henos and not the feminine or neutral.
As Ari inspected the man further, he realized that the man was absolutely covered in small wounds that slowly stained his white robes in blood. As they were stained, they slowly cleaned themselves keeping the clothing in a perpetual have-soiled state. Ari also noticed that the wounds were below his robes that appeared to have no damage on them.
“Boy, the potion” croaked the strange Wizard “Please.” Ari flushed, then tipped back the man's head and poured the vial into his mouth. A white glow surrounded the man temporarily, before he sucked in a sharp breath and slowly got to his feet with Ari’s help.
“Wonderful. Thank you, lad. Do you know where the closest settlement is? I can make my way there myself but I’ll need a place to stay.” Ari pointed in the direction of Aurele village, unsure of how involved he should get, when the man spoke up again. “Ah, yes I forgot as well. How did you learn the high tongue while living out here as a shepherd?” He turned around fully and locked his eyes fully on Ari, the warmth from his thanks slowly being replaced by a sort of cold and clinical curiosity. “I know that Easterners are usually well educated in comparison to the rest of the empire, excluding the Capital Heartlands, but still you speak it like a very well educated young man.”
When Ari stood frozen and did not answer, the man chuckled to himself and shook his head. “I see rumors of my peers have reached you, fear not. I don’t plan on cutting you up to learn your secrets, there isn’t much a shepherd- some noble bastard or not- would interest me with.” With that said the man turned around and began slowly limping towards Aurele. As he got a bit farther away Ari opened his mouth to offer assistance but the man, without looking, just waved him off before speaking loud enough to be heard. “No need young man, I will make my way to the village fine on my own. You get home and warn whomever you find necessary of my presence, with whatever has your heart pounding so hard in your chest.” The man laughed again while Ari stood in horror.
Once the man crested the second hill and was out of sight, Ari turned around and started to run home leaving his flock behind. As he soared through the reeds and tall grass, he reached into his pack and grabbed a whistle. Ari blew the whistle loudly, the sheep knew this was the call to head home and so they did. Shepherd ran through the fields, using his crook not to stumble or slow down. Sheep slowly made their way to their pasture, occasionally looking in the direction of the strange man that visited their master.
By the time Ari was in sight of the garden, he was covered in sweat and panting. Miss Colette and Cyrus were in the garden drinking tea, while the guards were posted at various spots throughout the manor. Even a few of the lady’s guards were visible, and they usually kept themselves out of sight. Everyone’s attention was drawn to Ari as he paced over to them without stopping. He reached the garden, and then bent over at the waist while he sucked in deep breaths of air. Cyrus broke the silence first.
“Ari? What-” Ari gasped the words out between breaths.
“Imperial” he gasped again “Mage, headed to Aurele.” He continued to huff and puff while he tried to get his heartbeat and breathing under control. “He could somehow tell what I was thinking or feeling I don’t-” he looked up at them to continue, but Miss Colette was already at his side with a hand on his shoulder. Cyrus seemed troubled, but quickly schooled his expression when he noticed Ari looking his way.
“Ari, slow down and take some deep breaths. Have some chilled water and then explain, there is no immediate rush to get us informed. Okay?” When she finished her statement she looked into Ari’s eyes. He could see from the redness of them that she had been crying, and he was taken back to their meeting all those years ago. He nodded and let himself calm down before he started to recount the experience. When he started explaining the man’s strange appearance to the group, Cyrus interrupted him while the lady Laine sighed out in relief.
“An elf. That’s good for us. Unlike the other Wizards they are less supportive of the censorship of magic and history. The majority of the information that I found useful, that weren’t from greedy nobles, came from elf-folk that were staying in the empire. That also narrows down who it was as there are only two elf magi that work for the empire in an official enough capacity to wear the ceremonial garb.” He leaned forward and rested his chin on his clasped hands, his arms supported on his knees. Miss Colette just calmly sipped her tea while watching the two talk. “Based on how he spoke to you I think it might be Sir Vandron. He is rivals with the hero Asther Torisan, the other elf employed by the Imperial Mage Corps. Vandron is Asther’s old teacher. While Vandron didn’t support the war at all, Asther went and participated. Both were still against the outlawing of our people’s druidic arts and historical knowledge, but Asther might be more likely to try and use this situation to his benefit. The rumors say that Sir Vandron is usually politically neutral and primarily acts in ways he thinks is for the betterment of the progression and preservation of arcane lore.”
Ari nodded but looked somewhat confused, but a familiar voice spoke out to explain things. “What he means, lad, is that I won’t have any of you killed for heresy or apostasy by practicing outlawed magic. Assuming it is truly druidic in nature and not a demonic or corrupted art.” The man shimmered into being standing behind Miss Colette, and she squeeked a yell out and dropped her teacup. The wizard flicked his wrist and the teacup floated back to the tea saucer, as the entire gathering went icy.