[Flashback] The Orphan Student (Lucas)

[Icol de Mordi]

Fall 493 AV The idea had come to him one sleepless night, but it was an idea he was rather adverse to. After all, what did he have to offer others? He didn't really feel old, even though his hair had begun to creep back onto his skull as if shying away from his face. There was still so much to learn! Fool he chided himself. It was not as if he were dying. In fact he was only even considering taking on an apprentice. His father was around the same age when he first began passing down the knowledge. Younger, in fact, now that he thought about it. Was it really that important of a decision? The morning after he had reached his verdict. He had no idea how much time he had left and, unlike his father, he would not wait for magic to kill him to take an apprentice and teach him the ways of the mysterious path. But one problem remained. Who would it be? There were plenty of young eager children, but many of them were deeply afraid of magic, others could not hold their attention long enough to study it, or were just simply not interested. He found no good candidates, not even in the Whitevine lineage. However, if Icol had learned anything in his life it was that patience would bring the answer. And soon after, it did exactly that.

[Lucas Chance]

Snowfall surrounded the tiny house, forming a soft mask against the outside world and the little home. Lucas Chance, a boy turning the age of five soon, sat by the window and watched intently as the sheet of snow on the earth grew larger by the minute.

It was as if he tuned out everything else just to try and understand the complexity of the snow. Where does it come from? Why is it so soft, and cold? He pondered the questions quietly.

Mrs. Lafavia, an elderly widowed human women that he had been living with for two years, formed a soft hum of noise behind him. She was making hot soup, and it smelled rather divine. Bread baked in the oven, providing a sense of warmth to the already comfortable feel of the interior of the house.

Putting his hand on the window, his small fingertip glazed across the icy glass. Snow, he wrote. A soft smile appeared on the child's face. He had learned the word recently while reading a book with Mrs. Lafavia. He watched the white substance through the streaked word he'd created until it vanished, covered by the fog. How interesting, he decided.

A soft knock echoed through the home, and Lucas could hear Mrs. Lafavia setting things down in the kitchen to answer the door. He didn't even turn around to see who it was when she hustled to the door. A lot of knocks happened lately, many people coming in to look at him with either sad eyes, pity-filled gazes, or even better, looks of indifference. Each time this happened Mrs. Lafavia would speak to these visitors in hushed whispered, his name often popping out in the quiet conversations.

"Come in, come in!" He heard Mrs. Lafavia insist, and a man's voice responded with a kind-sounding "Thank you." Lucas tilted his head in response to the sound, still facing the glass that allowed him to watch the snow fall. This voice sounded different then the others. Not sympathetic, not fierce or condescending...it was humbly kind. Foot steps fluttered opposite of him, and he could feel a gaze glancing at his back.

Chairs were pulled out from under the kitchen table. "Would you like some soup, sir?" Mrs. Lafavia asked. Before the answer came, the woman had already got up to get him a bowl. Like the other times, a hushed conversation took place, and the boy surprised a sigh. It would be polite of him to say hello, but he ignored that thought. He turned his attention back to the powder falling from the sky. A pretty snowflake suddenly stuck itself to the window, making the child's eyes sparkle for a short moment.

"Lucas!"

The boy jumped at the sudden call, having drowned out the noise behind him with his observant thoughts. "Come here, dear." he heard the woman call. He slipped out of the seat he was in and scurried to the kitchen. His small features were reserved, almost shy, and surprisingly skeptical.

His attention immediately went to the man sitting in the kitchen. He was slim, and fairly tall. His hair was slick and his features were fairly sharp. He radiated knowledge, and that almost instantly captivated his child. Out of nervous habit, he slightly bit his lower lip, his eyes adverting downwards at the man's stare. "Greet Mr. De Mordi!" Mrs. Lafavia scolded.

"Hello." came his soft reply

[Icol de Mordi]

An old friend of his came to visit him in his humble abode in the Whitevine hold. He was an elderly practitioner of magic that Icol had met a few years back and studied with, but the man had gone away from Avanthal to seek out new opportunities in Sylrias. He had returned, he explained, to seek out an apprentice in his native town. Icol confessed that the prospect had occurred to him as well, and that he was considering passing on his knowledge to someone young before it was too late. His friend was the one who recommended him to the orphan boy. He told him of the tragic tale of the young man who's parents had been recently killed. The boy showed exceptional talent from the opinion of the old woman he was living with, and could possibly prove to be a suitable apprentice. Icol agreed to go visit him the next day. The house was warm, and he was greeted with the savory smell of cooking soup. The woman, Mrs Lafavia, had been informed of Icol's coming and welcomed him. Shortly he was led to the kitchen, where he could see a boy apparently entranced by the snow falling quietly outside. Icol watched him with interest while the kindly old woman left to get him some soup, and even when she returned and he took the steaming bowl he kept his eyes upon the child's back. He stood when the boy came into the kitchen, idly smoothing out the wizard's robe he wore as he did so. He seemed shy, but had a certain air of focus about him. This was key, as all of the other children he had considered were prone to losing interest in things quickly and often jumped from subject to subject. He had only just met this boy, and yet he already seemed full of promise. However Icol was not a hasty man. He knew that more tests would need to be applied. "Hello young man." He said in a soft but stern tone. "My name is Icol de Mordi. Mrs. Lafavia tells me that your name is Lucas Elliot Chance. Tell me Lucas, what were you doing there watching out that window?"

[Lucas Chance]

Lucas slightly tilted his head to the left at the question. His head was almost facing the dark wooden floor, but his eyes averted upwards. The icy blue in the boy's eyes began to fade, a stormy grey residing in them in place of the previous color. Thoughts were evidently running through his mind. Quite remarkable for a boy his age. Naturally, he once again bit his lower lip.

The room was quite for a few moments while Lucas debated whether or not to answer this man's somewhat stern question. Taking a breath in, the boy shifted his attention back to the window. He couldn't quite explain it from this distance.

"I was watching how the snow falls."

The reply was fairly quite, almost going unheard, quickly being absorbed into the warm atmosphere around them. Suddenly, he grew nervous. He didn't want to be scolded for doing such an absurd thing. He turned back around quickly and timidly looked up at the man. 

Lucas made a gesture that implied a question; Could they go to the window? He could show him what he had been observing for a small part of the day. This man, Icol de Mordi, seemed like he just might hold some answers.

Answers were rather fantastic.

[Icol de Mordi]

The boy's answer caused a the traces of a smile to tug at his face. Though he kept his composure, it was precisely what he had been looking for. He had said he was watching how the snow fell. Not just watching it fall, but observing the powder as it came down. This meant that Lucas may be interested in the deeper meaning of things, or how they work, or the fine details of things. Or all three, which would be remarkable in a boy of his age, Icol thought. The boy made a gesture that beckoned him closer to the window, presumably to gaze out like Lucas had been doing before. Icol nodded and complied, following him to the glass. He looked out, trying to see what Lucas might see through his own eyes. "You know some say that the snow is brought by the Queen of Winter herself." Icol commented as they stared out into the frozen white. "Old folks mostly. Well, older than I anyway. They say that each individual snow flake is a different kiss from Morwen, and that she makes them in her off time in the Ice Palace. What do you think my boy?"

[Lucas Chance]

A faint smile pondered on Lucas' lips. Some people believed these tiny iced designs were kisses from the Queen of Winter? What a strange idea. A funny idea. An interesting idea. Lucas pictured a spectacular scene in his head.

The queen was sitting on her thrown, bored with nothing to do. So she kissed her hand, and blew it out, like Mrs. Lafavia did to Lucas every night before he went to bed. Except imaginary kisses didn't breeze through the air. Instead, thousands of pretty little snowflakes fluttered around the Queen, and out her open window.

What a thought!

Lucas grinned, his dimples appearing, and he turned his gaze downwards. He had to stifle a giggle. The idea did amuse the young boy.

"What do you think my boy?"

He thought through his answer, looked up towards the window, and drew small circles on the foggy glass. The wet condensation being wiped away by his finger formed the little picture. His response, as before, was quite and thoughtful.

" I think snow is the rain. Rain is the sky's warriors." He drew more as he spoke.

"They're brave and fight the bad, dirty air." His voice held shyness. "That's why puddles are so dirty I think. But when it's cold, the rain sky makes them wear a coat. Snowflakes are pretty. Morwen blows them lotsa kisses."

Hesitance flickered in his eyes, and they shifted to a nervous dark violet. He didn't want to be rebuked. Was what he thought wrong?

Once again, he timidly gazed up at Icol, and studied his expression.

[Icol de Mordi]

The old scholar saw the boy grin out of the corner of his eye. That was good. If he ended up indeed choosing him for an apprentice, the more he was liked as a teacher the better. It simply wouldn't do to have the child fear him entirely, else he would learn nothing and all of Icol's work would be in vain. And now Lucas was drawing circles as he spoke. The circles were more than just the idle scribbles of children, though they were far from the elaborate workings of magic. Still, he drew them nicely and would very well prove to be able to master the artistry that magic often required. It was another test that this seeming prodigy passed with colors. Icol felt the innocent gaze of the boy upon his face after he spoke, but his own eyes were still locked onto the slowly descending white of the sky. He was deep in thought, and did not answer for quite some time. "An interesting response Lucas." He remarked finally. "The snow is indeed rain in an altered form. Such is the working of all the rest of the world." Icol said and then turned fully towards the boy. "Like so." He raised his hands and the heavy sleeves of the black robe fell back to reveal his palms with two long scars running across them. They never seemed to heal, no matter what kind of treatment he applied. No matter. He had come to imbue into them a memory of the events that led to their acquirement. A memory and a reminder, of what had happened and what could very well happen if he gave into the Sweet Whisper. It was the curse of every mage, and Icol de Mordi was certainly no more resistant to its temptation than others. Slowly a stream of pulsating water rose from the centers of each palm, dancing in the air in front of the two. Icol's fingers twitched slightly as he caused the element to sway back and forth between them, creating a figure eight that shifted and swam as if the water was lighter than the air itself. "All manner of energy in the world cannot be created or destroyed, only manipulated. This water that you see before you is shaped by a substance that resides in many a wizard's body, commonly called Res. It in turn is fueled by the lifeforce we all possess from eating and drinking every day. This energy, or Djed, is how living beings function. There is Djed in everything, even in the snow and rain. So you see Lucas, everything is connected. Do you understand?" He posed the question as the water drifted back to his hands, returning to a gas form that seeped back into his palms. With a soft groan under his breath Icol knelt down to be at eye level with Lucas. "My boy, I will be honest with you. I am growing old now. I mean to take on an apprentice, and so far you have shown the most promise out of all the other hopefuls. I can teach you many things, things not unlike the magic I have just shown you. But I will not force it upon you. It will not be an easy life, but you may find some of the answers to the questions that I can see tear at your heart. I ask you now, will you come with me and learn?"

[Lucas Chance]

When the man before him let his long sleeves slide down his forearm, Lucas scanned over the newly revealed skin, his eyes focusing on the two seemingly-deep scars impaled in Icol's flesh. The boy had to force his eyes up to study the scholar's expression.

A startled gasp escaped Lucas' lips when water began to hover above Icol's hands. Instinctively, he took a small step backwards, but his eyes stayed glued to the pure magic happening before him. He knew the figure, it was an eight.

"All manner of energy in the world cannot be creates or destroyed, only manipulated..."

The small boy listened intently at the explanation Icol began to give. Everything was connected. Everything. This made no sense, Lucas couldn't help but think. Yet at the same time, he marveled at how it explained some things. Like how ice turned into water, or how the dead bird he found while exploring the land around Mrs. Lafavia's house seemed to disappear into the earth more every passing day. He was told not to touch it, so he'd glance from a distance. Yes, he did, even if it wasn't perfectly, understand.

Lucas returned the man's gaze when he kneeled before him, being eye-toeye with the adult. Listening to the words, he grew an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It was from the mixture of confusing emotions the young lad felt. Anxiety, excitement, fear...he was told the life of being an apprentice wasn't easy. But this child never played well with facile things.

"I ask you now, will you come with me and learn?"

For a a moment, the boy didn't answer, his mind racing. What did this mean? Was he leaving this home forever? Lucas turned his gaze away from Icol and looked up at Mrs. Lafavia, who was leaning her body against the doorframe of the kitchen. Her eyes were sad, but something in them let Lucas know it would be okay. She gave him an encouraging nod.

His stare averted back to the man who was to become his master. His eyes changed into a dark violet, radiating his suppressed eagerness. He wanted to learn.

"Yes, sir."

[Icol de Mordi]

The man nodded gravely, though smiled inwardly. His search was complete hardly before it started, and with such promising results! No doubt the boy had some reservations- he could see it in his face. And yet Icol figured that if it were this home he missed it would be a small matter to allow him to return every now and then and hopefully that would keep him content enough to focus on what he must be taught. Giving a reassuring smile, Icol rose back to his full height. He folded his arms across his chest, letting the large sleeves fall back into place. "Very well. However, this is not a decision to be made so lightly. I will return upon the morrow, and if you still desire to become my apprentice I shall take you back to my home and your studies shall begin." The scholar turned back towards Mrs. Lafavia who was in the doorway. "I had best take my leave of you now. I shall see you tomorrow ma'am. Thank you for the soup." Icol followed her out to the entrance, and turned once more to look at Lucas. His eyes flashed a deep blue once before returning to their original black, then he put his hood up and stepped out into the snow.

[Cheshire]

Character: Icol de Mordi Experience: Observation +1, Interrogation +2, Storytelling +1, Reimancy +1 Lore: Myth of the Snowflakes, Gaining an Apprentice Character: Lucas Chance Experience: Observation +1, Storytelling +1, Drawing +1 Lore: Myth of the Rain, Reimancy [Basic], Becoming an Apprentice Additional Note: Great thread guys! I loved the little myths about the snow and rain! I cannot wait to see more from you two. Lucas, there is already a PC using Logan Lerman as a model so you will have to find a different model. PM me with concerns.