Private Tales The Hawk and the Wren

[Alistair Wren]

The lecture drew to a close and Alistair was still fervently writing down the notes Professor Sparhawk had been going over. Nose buried in his parchment, Alistair copied down their runes, as well as their respective derivatives and closed the lid on his ink pot. The class had been on the craft of summoning and conjuring, a school he had been interested in for quite a while. He dropped his unit in elemental magic and decided to pursue summoning instead. Shoving his quill and ink pot into his satchel, Alistair rolled up his parchment and attached to a clasp on his belt, then slung the satchel around his shoulder and rose to his feet.

Professor Sparhawk was still at his desk, his nose deep in his notes.

Deciding not to disturb him, Alistair slid out of the aisle and walked to the door at the side of the room. Maho had intrigued him with his approach to summoning, which up until now, Alistair had regarded as a dark art. Maho had convinced him otherwise and demonstrated how summoning could be used in a positive way. Creeping out the door, the young mage slunk into the corridor outside and tuned down the way, smoothing down the back of his robes as he did so.

Alistair turned into a doorway and scaled a flight of stairs, which lead him to the library. An enormous hall, lined with shelves which reached the ceiling, each one decked from top to bottom in books. It brought a smile to Alistair's face. Slugging off his satchel, he smiled to the librarian as he walked inside and looked around for an empty chair. Light from diamoned-shaped panes of the windows poured in, the books glowing in its breadth. His satchel in his arms, Alistair plonked it down on a table, spread out his nose and stood, then slipped through the shelves towards the section on summoning. Nestled between the two enormous shelves, the young mage ran his finger along the edge, muttering aloud to himself as he looked for a title which intrigued him, when a shadow loomed over the spines of the books.

Alistair jerked up, his dark, blue eyes wide. Standing behind him was Professor Sparhawk, as enigmatic and unpredictable as the legends told about him.

"Professor Sparhawk, I didn't see you there," standing at his full height, Alistair smoothed down the front of his robes and smiled.

"I actually wanted to ask you about what you said in today's lecture," Alistair nodded, his cheeks bright and enthusiastic, "I was very impressed with your approach to conjuring, it was a craft I never really trusted up until now," he spoke plainly, reserved, but also confident, his tone quiet and smooth.

"Can energy really be conjured in a positive way?" Alistair asked, tilting his head to the side, "like, as opposed to a demon or dark spirit," he said, eyes shifting.

Maho Sparhawk

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

Our contract may be abrogated today, Hawk. But your soul will never be yours. That, is my gift to you Sparhawk. Struggle against it all you want, but you shall never be allowed to avoid this one truth; you will now, and forever-more, be a monster.

________________________________________________________
​

Sparhawk hadn't been teaching for very long at the College. It had been many years since he'd visited it in a professional capacity, and had to refamiliarise himself with it's various halls and archways. What surprised him was how quickly he settled in. He met old professors who taught him, saw old books he remembered reading, and met students who - once were apprentices studying years under him - now professors in their own classrooms.

Now, although Summoning had never been Sparhawk's first area of expertise, he had studied it as all students had, and had witnessed some of the greatest conjurers work their magic, so he became very familiar with the art. He had never given a lecture before he'd become a professor, but since he'd begun, he must've delivered ten, so he felt quite comfortable with addressing a large room of students.

The Lecture itself was on intermediate applications and deep theory on summoning, with a minor section on runic scriptures that had to be noted down for practice. The theory mainly revolved around the arguments surrounded summoning, and how it's often compared to Necromancy, as many believe that summoning is raising something from an astral plane of existence, rather than crafting a being from pure magic. Although Sparhawk did not have the answers to all these questions, he offered his own wisdom, making it blatantly clear that, in essence, Summoning was not a dark art, and that students should not feel put off from studying it.

In the months building up to him becoming a teacher, he'd visibly changed quite a bit; he wasn't nearly as gaunt or hungry looking as he used to be, his body no longer emaciated by long travel and little sleep. His beard was far longer than it used to be, his face fuller - stronger.

After finishing his notes, he made his way, staff on his back, to the archival library.

He was sifting through books, trying to find information on the 'Pandemonium' incident. He was not involved, but he had heard of it; demons being summoned from portals left and right. He was curious to see whether Imamu was involved in any way. It was odd, whenever he thought about that name, he felt a tingle on the back of his neck. He felt himself being watched. Despite his contract being undone, he could feel them around him. The voices drowned out, but still there...

"Professor Sparhawk, I didn't see you there,"

"Oh, hello..."

Oh god, what's the name... Alltare... Allstar... Al- ALISTAIR

"...Alistair." He said, apprehensively.

"Can energy really be conjured in a positive way?" Alistair asked, tilting his head to the side, "like, as opposed to a demon or dark spirit," he said, eyes shifting.

Not exactly an odd question, but not one he expected a student to approach him about.

He thought for a moment, looking down, then back at Alistair.

"Well, as I said in the lecture, the... the basics of all College Magic hangs upon the concept of intent; no magic is... inherently evil or bad, it's... it's- it's all about the user. Conjuring ice or pyromancy is a form of summoning, but the typical view taken at creature summoning is that the summon is only ever as 'dark' as the conjurer. Why'd you ask?"

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair shifted his eyes awkwardly as Professor Sparhawk tried to remember his name. Eyes shrouded by the shadow of his hood, he looked down, stifled a chuckled and blushed, then nodded when Maho said his name correctly. The rose gold trimmings of his back robes glinted in the candlelight, the low hum of mages practicing their incantations drifting through the library.

The ends of Alistair's mouth lowered as Maho began to answer his question. Hand clasped against his diaphragm, he listened intently.

Maho had explained during the lecture that College magic did regard the craft itself as inherently good or evil, but rather the mage. Chin cupped, Alistair thought to himself, brow creased as he looked at the ceiling. His eyes widened when Maho mentioned that his own school, pyromancy, was a form of summoning, something which intrigued Alistair greatly.

"That interests me because when I summon, I draw on the energy of a source, be it a divine body, my inner being or something around me and what I cast is a manifestation of that source," tapping his finger against his chin, Alistair looked up and smiled, his dull, sapphire eyes brightening with enthusiasm, "so I'm pleasantly surprised to hear that casting fire is a form of summoning in that regard, as I had been wondering whether the energy that is summoned need be sentient or drawn from a different dimension," he nodded.

Hand resting on the shelf, Alistair rubbed the ring on his finger, a sapphire signet embedded in a dark metal ring and eyed the titles of the books. A stone roof, arched above his head, entombed the wooden shelves, the titles that lined them bathed in the yellow balm of the candles. From within the narrow halls of the library, mages could be heard chanting. When Maho asked why Alistair had asked the question in the first place, he turned around and smiled.

"Because I recently took up summoning and I'm interested to see how it can be practiced in a positive way, I am a healer, you see?" He said, straight eyebrows raised.

Maho Sparhawk

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

"so I'm pleasantly surprised to hear that casting fire is a form of summoning in that regard, as I had been wondering whether the energy that is summoned need be sentient or drawn from a different dimension,"

"Well, there are two schools of thought on this. However, seeming as you're creating something purely from magic, there is a clear exchange of energy, so I doubt most summons to be of any real sentience. Then again..." Sparhawk thought to all of the summons Telemachus had created. A real artisan; his creations all had indipendent thought, and seemed to know what situation they were in.

Perhaps they were taken from some other plane of existence, much like the Pandemonium incident...

Questions for later.

"Because I recently took up summoning and I'm interested to see how it can be practiced in a positive way, I am a healer, you see?"

"A Healer? Wow, you don't see that as often nowadays. When i was about your age, I wanted to become a great healer. You know, as it happens, I once met a great shaman during my travels in Belgrath. He could piece people back together, even if they were on the brink of death. Most impressive." He spoke, passionately. Of course, this was the Orc who magicked his chest back together, saving him from a most gruesome fate.

"You know, i had a curious question. I know I haven't been teaching at the College long, but I wish to know; are my lectures useful? At all, I mean. I'd like to improve."

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair cupped his chin as Maho spoke. His pet giant cockroach, Roly, scuttled from out beneath his hood and sat on the shoulder of his capelet. Eyes wide and inquisitive, Alistair patted him, the light of the candles bathing the library in a yellow balm. When Maho presumed that Alistair was conjuring something purely from magic, the young mage raised an eyebrow and tapped his chin.

"Not exactly, professor," he shook his head, "for example, I could draw on the positive energy of the sun and use that to destroy the source of a curse, so what I conjure isn't produced from purely from magic," waving a hand to the side, he explained the practice clearly.

Alistair now wondered if he could conjure a being from such energy, an angel or druid perhaps. Tapping his chin, he looked at the ceiling, sapphire eyes catching the light from the candles.

"That said, it could be possible to cast a being from that energy, I would very much like to try," he wondered aloud.

At Maho's comment about Alistair pursuing Healing as a profession, the young mage managed a smile. Chortling, he looked down, the sleeves of his dark blue robes brushing the stone floor. Indeed, healing was not as enticing to mages who wished to study magic purely for the sake of knowledge, but that wasn't the lifestyle Alistair enjoyed. He liked to feel that his work was beneficial to other, not just himself. Rolling bacl and forward on his pointed-toed shoes, he cupped his chin and laughed, bashful.

"It's not as endearing as many of the other schools, but I don't fancy being cooped up in a university, I want to do things, put my magic to use," eyebrows bumping up and down, Alistair nodded.

"I'm currently studying the craft of siphoning negative emotions to calm a person," he commented, head tilting upwards, "although it comes with an unpleasant price," he said as he looked down, brow creased.

Roly scuttled down his arm and he scooped him up. Cradling the cockroach in his hand, he stroked him, perking up at Maho's question. Alistair enjoyed his lectures greatly, and always found the spells he taught useful. He knew he had just started teaching, so he must have been uncertain of himself, but the young mage smiled modestly, happy to reassure him. Roly in his hands, he smiled widely and nodded, his crooked, browning teeth visible.

"I enjoy them greatly," he said, "I find the spells you teach have many applications outside of the college, which more theoretical mages may not like, but I find them very useful and I'll be sure to try them out next time I'm travelling," modest and sincere, Alistair allowed Maho to know his thought. Withdrawing, he glanced to the side and raised his eyebrows, "although I am not particularly interested in pyromancy or the elemental aspect of what you teach, but that's solely a personal preference," he batted the air with his hand in dismissal.

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

Alistair was well-spoken, and all his points made sense.

He did find it interesting however, that he was so quick to challenge Sparhawk's concept on energy. True, something had to be drawn on to create that energy, but the energy itself was just that, energy. Sparhawk wasn't going to challenge it however, as Alistair had made a good point, and such a challenging personality would serve him well going into the future.

"That said, it could be possible to cast a being from that energy, I would very much like to try," he wondered aloud.

"I'd be cautious. You'd be surprised how easy it can be to push oneself. I remember when I first used Pyromancy at a high-level; I vomited on the spot. Sick for three days. Make sure to take everything in levels." He said, calmly. He felt it was his responsibility to temper his students' ambition, so they wouldn't repeat the mistakes of others.

"It's not as endearing as many of the other schools, but I don't fancy being cooped up in a university, I want to do things, put my magic to use," eyebrows bumping up and down, Alistair nodded.

"I'm currently studying the craft of siphoning negative emotions to calm a person," he commented, head tilting upwards, "although it comes with an unpleasant price," he said as he looked down, brow creased.

An unpleasant price.

He related to the young man, indeed, to help those around us, sacrifices often had to be made, whether they be sacrifices of self, or of things we like, or indeed love. Sparhawk remembered the family he once had. He'd sacrifice anything to go back to that time. Anything.

"I think it's important for any aspiring Sorcerer to travel outwards, and explore what there is to be explored. My Master believed this, and I very much feel the same way. Master Jerik very much believed you learn more on the field than in any University, so I believe you are being very wise." And that was true, it was surprising how many students in the College were either set on becoming duelists or scholars. Pretty boring in Sparhawk's opinion.

Sparhawk listened to the young Sorcerer's last point. He felt comforted that he enjoyed his Lectures, and felt even greater than he thought what he'd learnt would be of any use.

"You know, most of the students here think Pyromancy is all flashing lights and setting trees alight. You'd be surprised at the practical properties of Fire. On my travels I learnt how to purify water though Pyromancy, and even remove infections from wounds, by targeting infections specifically." He'd seen it done, but had only done so once. Not very successful, since it caused very minor burns, but it did get rid of the infection.

"Although I'm no healer, a bit of Pyromancy might help you out. Never know!" He chuckled a little. Although he'd used Pyromancy primarily in an offensive manner, you could not deny it's other facets.

"Actually, I have the next few hours free before I must continue my research. If you'd like, I can guide you through summoning a free-thinking creature- if you're willing of course." Now he'd thought about it, perhaps it was okay to let the Sorcerer discover what he can do. He was curious to see what he was capable of.

 

[Alistair Wren]

When Maho warned Alistair about the dangers of overextending one's magical limits, the young mage lowered his head and stammered. Headstrong and eager, he had clearly got ahead of himself. Stroking the cockroach on his shoulder, Alistair smiled, nodding in acknowledgement of Maho's warning.

"Of course, Professor, I should know better than anyone the cost over overextending the limits of one's magic," eyelids lowering, Alistair nodded as Roly crawled onto his hand. He had to spend the whole day inside, performing rites to replenish his energy after he had faced Havilah in a castle ruin. Raising his head, he laughed, "I wouldn't attempt to conjure a being from energy without working up to such a feat," he said, sounding almost disappointed with himself for not being able to conjure an angel or a druid right away.

A pause followed as Alistair mentioned the price he had paid for employing empathetic techniques in his healing. He sighed, but the ends of his mouth lifted when Maho mentioned that young sorcerers should see more of the world outside the university, something Alistair believed himself. He liked getting out to explore and learn new kinds of magic, but there were times when he missed the university. The older sorcerer said that Alistair was was for doing so, to which he smiled, cheeks tinting red as he looked down.

"Why thank you, Professor, I don't really consider myself wise, not yet anyway," he stammered, struggling to accept Maho's compliment, "just a mage who likes to get his hands dirty," he looked up and smiled, placing Roly on his head, underneath his hood.

At Maho mention of the practical use of fire, Alistair looked up at the ceiling and tapped his chin in thought.

"You're right enough, I imagine there are many practical uses for pyromancy," he nodded, "it might be something I could learn to do, even if it's just to disinfect wounds or light fires, without the flashy combative, theatrics," thinking to himself, Alistair withdrew his finger from his chin and looked at Maho, nodding.

Maho had been correct in assuming that Alistair's perception of pyromancy was all flashing lights and fireballs. Alistair was astute, but he was naive, and had not considered both the positive and practical use that casting fire had. It might be something he could learn in the future, with a view to using in his healing. For now, he was happy with his studies in conjuring and empathy. His healing unit was going well, and he was enjoying it, so he didn't think he needed to add pyromancy to his studies anytime soon. Looking up at the ceiling, he smiled and nodded, his eyes brightening when Maho offered to help him with his conjuring.

"I would be more than willing, Professor!" Alistair beamed, his cheeks dented with dimples as he smiled enthusiastically.

"Thank you for offering to teach me!" Alistair stammered, bowing his head in gratitude.

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

The more the boy talked, the more he reminded him of himself, stammering and all.

He remembered being eager to learn everything when he first arrived at Elbion. Going from being in chains, to travelling with a Sorcerer, to being given the privilege of going to a magical College at a young age, he felt he had to take the opportunity as far as he could. However, it was the same thing that earned him the scar on his face. He remembered being so eager and sure of his own power, bragging that he could lift the College of it's supports, Telekinesis being his primary area of study in his youth. So foolish.

However, from the young man's speech, he believed him to be wise beyond his years, and with a thirst for knowledge, yet a temperance required to become a great Sorcerer, hopefully this lesson would give an insight into what would hopefully become a great career for Alistair.

"Alright, follow me." He began walking out of the library.

He knew of the summoning room, almost on the whole other half of the College. It was mainly reserved for Graduated Maesters and Sorcerers that wished to research and practice their craft, away from the rest of the young students. He thought that if he was to give him the greatest shot he could have, he might as well be in a quiet, safe enviroment.

As they walked down the winding halls of the College, Sparhawk turned to talk to Alistair.

"Out of curiosity Alistair, how did you find yourself at the College? Everyone has their own story." He was indeed curious. Although most that found themselves at the College were either the sons and daughters of rich nobles, or lightly gifted youngsters hoping to become an Academic, some had a story which would shock. Although Sparhawk didn't care which, he wanted something to talk about whilst they took the long walk to the Summoning Hall.

 

[Alistair Wren]

When Maho gestured to Alistair to follow him, the young mage's face lit up like a gem. Clutching the hems of his robes, he darted out of the library behind him. They stopped by his dormitory, where he put away his cockroaches for the night and fed them, then headed down a winding staircase to the summoning room. The chant of mages filled the halls of the academy, it's stone walls bathed in the light of candles.

As they walked down the staircase, Maho asked Alistair a question.

"My father was a great astronomer who nurtured my interest in magic, but it was my skill in mathematics that earned me a place at the college," he answered, withdrawing slightly as he spoke of his talent. He felt almost dirty, talking about what he was good at.

"They accepted me when I was sixteen and I moved in that year, there's not much else to the story than that," he shrugged.

As they walked, Alistair slumped his shoulders, feeling regret all of a sudden. He had been at the college since he was sixteen and since then, had done nothing but study and practice magic. He had never even been with a girl, as he had never had time. Hand on the stone banister, he clutched his robes as he followed Maho down the stairs, brow furrowed as he thought about the question.

"While I've certainly enjoyed my time here, it's been just that, and nothing else, I often think about all the things I've missed out on," he lamented, his tone remorseful.

Alistair and Maho walked down the stairs and stopped at a floor, colours from the stained glass windows dancing along the walls. Maho opened the door to reveal a huge room, deceptively hidden by the small tower from where they had come. The ends of his mouth rising, Alistair stepped inside and looked around, eager to practice his skills.