Mages Apprentice - Chapter One -
Mages Apprentice Chapter One 14th February, 2012 All Rights Reserved
Arch-mage Kalen sat at his massive granite desk, the pulsating emerald green runs that rippled along its edges flickering in the dim candlelight; his desk covered in ancient tomes, beakers, flasks and scraps of vellum and parchment, a few rolled up scrolls - that looked like they would crumble to dust at the slightest breath of wind, and before him - sat a large book of green dyed leather, a heavy metal clasp holding it closed, beautiful ornate scroll work and embossing covering the books cover. Kalen stroked the book reverently, his eyes closed as he sensed the potential for all his decades of research, may yet, be found within this archaic tome.
His thick brush of a tail, hidden by the heavy cloak he wore, flicked once in pleasure, the white tip barely brushing the stone floor behind him. His triangular ears poked through the top of the hood, and were flicked forwards, as he whispered something beneath his breath; the fine whiskers on his pale muzzle moving as he spoke the words of enchantment over the tome...and felt the protective warding respond to his command - the emerald runes on his desk pulsing brighter and brighter, before flashing in a brilliant emerald explosion - then fading away.
"You always were one for the theatrical touch, master," Come a feminine voice from across the chamber.
Kalen turned his head, his intense gaze locking on to the owner of the voice, who meekly bowed its head and resumed brushing the floor with a straw broom.
"Cerise - " Master Kalen whispered, his voice weak and quavering, after decades of inhaling smoke, burning tallow and other chemicals and scents, for more years than he wished to recall - his vocal cords damaged beyond even his hope of repair. "Mind your place - apprentice."
"Yes master." Cerise responded, hanging her head obediently.
Cerise, a young vixen of only eighteen winters, flattened her ears and swallowed, her paws clutching the broom as she carefully swept the dust and unidentifiable debris into a growing pile. She wore the dark grey of an apprentice, and even though she felt such menial chores were beneath one who was being trained in magick, Cerise had come to realise, one could not do magick - if one did not at first learn humility and patience. It didn't make her task any more pleasurable - she longed to be studying her master's grimorie, her mind swirling with what wonders she could learn - and practice - under her masters patient, gentle touch.
Cerise had been Archmage Kalen's apprentice now, since she was six winters old - her parents, poor, destitute peasants, who struggled on their farm - had sold their only daughter to Master Kalen - he having paid what seemed like a King's Ransom, to the two struggling peasants. Kalen had no use for gold, it was nice - he liked it, but he was not driven by the greed and lust for power and wealth, like so many others. He would often pay above and beyond, what was generally accepted for even the most mundane and easily acquired of magickal alchemical components - for those which were harder or more dangerous to acquire - the greater the risk, the more generous Kalen was with his wealth. It meant nothing to him, it meant less than nothing - he could have bought half the Kingdom's of the known world, with a fraction of the wealth he had secreted in various magically guarded and well hidden lairs. To him money was not a means to an end - it was just something he used, to purchase that which he had required, to further his magickal studies.
He had begun training Cerise in the ways of Alchemy, magick, letters, heraldry, and other things, and to his pleasure, this young Vixen showed a remarkable aptitude for learning. She had remembered everything he had taught her, with a speed and veracity that surprised and pleased him. She could easily name the Lords and Ladies of the High Court, their ancestry to ten places removed, their symbols and standards - and this was only touching the surface of what he suspected she could achieve.
Her magickal studies, she approached with all care and intent, knowing the rules that Master Kalen had drilled into her, hour after hour, in the practice hall. She knew the code, that magick should help, never hinder, and never to be used against others, to change their ways of thinking or allegiances to their King or Queen. Sure, magick existed that could decimate an entire army in the blink of an eye, level a kingdom to rubble in a heartbeat - but such dark magicks were frowned upon and forbidden knowledge - for good reason.
Cerise knew some minor magicks - which she practised whenever she had the chance - summoning a woodland creature, revitalising sick and dying plants, she could make little fairy-like lights that would entrance and fascinate children...all this was minor parlour tricks - Cerise knew her master, in his own time, would teach her more and more - for now she remained modestly content in her knowledge - particularly that of herbal-craft and alchemy. These fascinated her - and already, she was developing thick callouses on her fingertips, and the stained and discoloured tips, which were the mark of a Master Alchemist. Arch Mage Kalen had long ago turned over the more mundane creation of potion making to her - and Cerise often spent long hours, crushing this, stirring that, boiling something else - lost in the joy of her profession.
With a growl, then a string of utterances in a language that had been dead for over a thousand years, Master Kalen slammed the great tome closed and rubbed his eyes. Cerise had blushed beneath her fur at some of the dark curses her master had uttered, knowing some were outright impossible - due to the nature of their own bodies - and she tried not to smile. Many thought of Arch-Mage Kalen as some old, dottering fox, past his prime, who puttered around in a dark tower, playing with dead animals and other strange and wild inaccuracies. Few realised the real power that Master Kalen had at his command - and none realised, with the will to wield it, and the words to command it - Master Kalen could destroy the known world at a whim. He gave the impression of a slightly addled and decrepit old fox, his back slightly hunched, walking with an ornate gnarled stick in his left paw - his robes patched and worn...but this was a cunning disguise he used, to draw attention away from himself.
Only the most powerful of Kings and Queens had even come close to being given a hint of the power Master Kalen commanded - and he was often invited to their private dining halls for a meal most peasants could never conceive of - but he would politely refuse their feeble efforts at winning his favour. Master Kalen worked for no-one, but himself. Oh, he accepted money just as readily as anyone, for his services to King and Queen, sometimes the services were merely the mundane - other times, they at most, got his attention - most of the time, he content himself with acquiring books, scrolls and tablets - arcane knowledge lost over the thousands of years - and he would study it, unlocking the secrets in these ancient tomes, and only once - had one shaken him to his very core.
He had that tome, filled with lore and magicks, that had chilled his blood to ice, banished forever into a location only he knew, guarded by summoned and bound demons from the bowels of the hells themselves, and enscorcelled with magicks that had very nearly drained the very life from him. No, such magick was never to be discovered again, for within its dark bound pages, had been such horrors and writing, written he suspected, in human blood - that even he could barely conceive of. He never spoke of that book to anyone, knowing its dark power would never find the light of day again, and in this - he was content.
*
Frustrated, Arch Mage Kalen waved his paw over the desk, the emerald green runes flashing and rippling like water, before he climbed off the stool on which he sat and began pacing the chamber. His booted foot-paws rang hollowly on the stone floor as he tried to hide his frustration and annoyance. In that book, a tome written by the Great Dragon Aurelius over a millennia ago, had Kalen hoped to find the find the knowledge and wisdom of the ancients - for there was one spell he sought above all others, the power to bring back his beloved from the grave....
Cerise sensed her masters frustration, and she put aside her broom, waving a paw almost negligently - and a tiny tornado formed, sucking up the dust and debris, then banishing it to the ethereal, not a trace remaining - and the wind flickered out of existence with a soft popping sound. Kalen snorted, showing his displeasure with her almost flippant use of magick - as he had told her again and again, each time a Mage used their magicks, it took a piece of their life with it. Sure, a minor parlour trick like that - would shorten Cerise's life by only seconds - but still, she needed to learn that magicks should not be used in a spurious and wasteful manner.
"Cerise!" He snapped at her, his whisper only faint, but carrying the power of a lash, as it struck out at her.
"Master?" Cerise wailed, recoiling under the force of his command.
"You know better than that, my foolish young apprentice - remember you lessons - I am too old to begin training another apprentice..." He chastised her.
"Forgive me master, I...forget my place at times - " Cerise sniffled, then dabbed at her eyes with her paws.
He gave a weak chuckle, then laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, before he resumed pacing the floor, muttering in ancient Draconian. Cerise's ears burned, at some of the curses and phraseology he used, never knowing he knew such words. She longed to help him, to make his dreams - whatever they were, for he had never confided his deepest self to her; but she loved him, and he loved her.
After an hour, he sighed and left the chambers, and Cerise finished tidying up, before resting the broom against the door frame and leaving the chamber. Her foot paws padded lightly on the stone stairs, as she made her way up to her masters bed chambers, then rapped lightly on the door. Her ears flickered as she heard the faintest whisper of permission, and she slipped inside, then closed the door behind herself. She found him half-way through disrobing, his fingers struggling to unclasp the cloak he wore, and she crept up behind him, then unfasten the cloak and hung it on the hat rack at the end of his bed.
"Thank you - " He muttered, before leaning forwards slightly, stretching as he pulled the shirt up over his back.
Cerise barely held back her gasp, as she seen the deep, puckered scars that criss-crossed his back, the fur ragged and torn, the pale white scars gleaming in the candlelight. She had asked him about them, when she first saw them as a ten year old - and he had become withdrawn and sullen, but in her naive and innocent way, the sweetness of a child, she had asked him again, and sitting her down, he told her how he had gotten them...and why...
Cerise swallowed and shivered, grateful her back was turned to her master, so he wouldn't see her expression change to one of misery and horror, before she smiled and wrapped her arms around her masters belly, then tenderly trailed her short claws across his flanks suggestively. She felt him shiver, and utter a sibilant gasp, as his head tilted back and his ears swept backwards, his passion for this sweet, gentle young vixen burning as hot as it ever had. Cerise nibbled his nape and shoulder, then her tongue licked a long, slow swatch from nape to shoulder and back again, before he twisted his head and gazed at her - his desire evident in his dark eyes.
Quickly, cerise shed the simple smock she wore, dropping it to the floor, then stood as naked as the day she had been born, before her master. He gazed at the young vixen, slowly looking her up and down, and he smiled, his whiskers twitching slightly, before he nodded in appreciation.
"Do you like what you see master?" Cerise smiled shyly, cupping her firm breasts and tweaking the pale nipples that barely poked through the silky-smooth fur.
"Oh...very much, my young apprentice..." He rasped, then shuddered.
"Then let me teach you master - " Cerise smirked, swaying closer and sliding her paws around the back of his neck, before nibbling his throat, her sharp canines pricking the flesh beneath the fur - as she pushed him back towards the large four post bed, her eyes sparkling with mischief and pleasure.
To Be Continued...