of one another,
Onyx’s deep voice said, “Cut me Rayhold. Fear not, thou will not
hurt me. Trust my voice and heed to what it says.”
Rayhold slowly lifted the
blade of the dagger over Onyx’s palm. Rayhold’s arm swiftly moved
the blade, as if by its self, splitting and folding back the flesh
as it slid across the bare skin of Onyx. Blood flowed from the
wound, dripping to the green grass below.
Rayhold was amazed, as Onyx
had not so much as twitched the slightest. He held the dagger still
in the air, fixated on Onyx’s palm, not really knowing what to
expect next. Blood still dripped from the blade to the
ground.
To Rayhold’s astonishment,
Onyx’s palm began to heal itself. Even the blood returned to its
veins, as his skin sealed. Rayhold blinked. Multiple times he
blinked, this must be a trick. But the stranger had not moved his hand, nor had
Rayhold at any time turned away. He knew for sure that his blade
had cut Onyx, for blood was still yet upon it and drops remained on
the grass.
Is it a miracle? Is this
what he wants to teach me? What a grand idea! Rayhold considered.
“Do thou now wish to learn
that which I possess?” Onyx posed.
“I…” a pause of conscience,
“But, sorcery is against the law,” Rayhold insisted.
“Only for the sake of
control does it remain. The law is old and the writers are dead. So
let their foolish words vanish with them. Embrace the power
Rayhold, and become a god among men,” Onyx taunted.
“But if found out, they will wish to
slay me or worse, burn me at the stake as a witch or law breaker,”
Rayhold begged.
“Dear Rayhold, have ye learned
nothing? Did thou not see my hand yet heal the wound ye imposed?
Follow me and I shall show thee how to cheat death itself,” offered
Onyx.
So began the relationship
of Rayhold and Onyx, as Rayhold slipped into the desires of
sorcery. Vandor and Kayla seldom noticed Rayhold not being around.
Not that they did not still care for him, but their minds were
fixed upon each other.
§ § § §
Stepping deep into the oaks
and sycamores, Rayhold set down on a tree stump that appeared to
have been there for quite some time. Still solid, the stump allowed
him to rest his weight, slouching somewhat, looking at the
ground.
After seeing Vandor and
Kayla, he recalled there was a girl he saw once in Qualtes, just
south of Nesal, named Cenobia, who caught his eye. Her skin was a
shade darker than his, with large dark brown eyes, and full lips
under her slightly pudgy nose. She looked simple, not outlandishly
beautiful, but appealing to the eye in a most natural way to him.
As if he saw who and how she was, not simply her outward
appearance. He knew only minimal about her, for they had only
spoken to each other a few times over the past months, but she did
stare and smile at him often though. Maybe he could see if Vandor
and Kayla would like to visit there tomorrow. There was clearly no
one in Nesal that caught his eye.
From behind a tree appeared Onyx.
“Dear Rayhold, what do ye sit there pondering?”
“Oh, nothing,” replied
Rayhold.
“Dear Rayhold, why do thou yet lie to
me? Have I not given thee that which thou desire,” asked
Onyx.
“Forgive me. It is but a selfish
thing,” Rayhold looked down.
“Tell me then, young
Rayhold. Maybe I could help.”
Rayhold looked to
Onyx, of course he can . “There is a girl in Qualtes that I would much like to see
again.”
“Thou speak of young Cenobia,” Onyx
answered, “and indeed I may be able to help.”
“How…how do you know that?”
Rayhold exclaimed.
“I know many things,” laughed
Onyx.
Onyx pulled an amulet from
his pocket. It was white, with faint swirls of grey running
throughout. In the shape of a rose bloom, two inches in size, it
was attached to a black twine necklace through one of the petals.
Onyx grinned, holding the rose and allowing the twine to dangle,
“Place this around her neck. She will love thee for it.”
Rayhold smiled, holding
Onyx’s deep voice said, “Cut me Rayhold. Fear not, thou will not
hurt me. Trust my voice and heed to what it says.”
Rayhold slowly lifted the
blade of the dagger over Onyx’s palm. Rayhold’s arm swiftly moved
the blade, as if by its self, splitting and folding back the flesh
as it slid across the bare skin of Onyx. Blood flowed from the
wound, dripping to the green grass below.
Rayhold was amazed, as Onyx
had not so much as twitched the slightest. He held the dagger still
in the air, fixated on Onyx’s palm, not really knowing what to
expect next. Blood still dripped from the blade to the
ground.
To Rayhold’s astonishment,
Onyx’s palm began to heal itself. Even the blood returned to its
veins, as his skin sealed. Rayhold blinked. Multiple times he
blinked, this must be a trick. But the stranger had not moved his hand, nor had
Rayhold at any time turned away. He knew for sure that his blade
had cut Onyx, for blood was still yet upon it and drops remained on
the grass.
Is it a miracle? Is this
what he wants to teach me? What a grand idea! Rayhold considered.
“Do thou now wish to learn
that which I possess?” Onyx posed.
“I…” a pause of conscience,
“But, sorcery is against the law,” Rayhold insisted.
“Only for the sake of
control does it remain. The law is old and the writers are dead. So
let their foolish words vanish with them. Embrace the power
Rayhold, and become a god among men,” Onyx taunted.
“But if found out, they will wish to
slay me or worse, burn me at the stake as a witch or law breaker,”
Rayhold begged.
“Dear Rayhold, have ye learned
nothing? Did thou not see my hand yet heal the wound ye imposed?
Follow me and I shall show thee how to cheat death itself,” offered
Onyx.
So began the relationship
of Rayhold and Onyx, as Rayhold slipped into the desires of
sorcery. Vandor and Kayla seldom noticed Rayhold not being around.
Not that they did not still care for him, but their minds were
fixed upon each other.
§ § § §
Stepping deep into the oaks
and sycamores, Rayhold set down on a tree stump that appeared to
have been there for quite some time. Still solid, the stump allowed
him to rest his weight, slouching somewhat, looking at the
ground.
After seeing Vandor and
Kayla, he recalled there was a girl he saw once in Qualtes, just
south of Nesal, named Cenobia, who caught his eye. Her skin was a
shade darker than his, with large dark brown eyes, and full lips
under her slightly pudgy nose. She looked simple, not outlandishly
beautiful, but appealing to the eye in a most natural way to him.
As if he saw who and how she was, not simply her outward
appearance. He knew only minimal about her, for they had only
spoken to each other a few times over the past months, but she did
stare and smile at him often though. Maybe he could see if Vandor
and Kayla would like to visit there tomorrow. There was clearly no
one in Nesal that caught his eye.
From behind a tree appeared Onyx.
“Dear Rayhold, what do ye sit there pondering?”
“Oh, nothing,” replied
Rayhold.
“Dear Rayhold, why do thou yet lie to
me? Have I not given thee that which thou desire,” asked
Onyx.
“Forgive me. It is but a selfish
thing,” Rayhold looked down.
“Tell me then, young
Rayhold. Maybe I could help.”
Rayhold looked to
Onyx, of course he can . “There is a girl in Qualtes that I would much like to see
again.”
“Thou speak of young Cenobia,” Onyx
answered, “and indeed I may be able to help.”
“How…how do you know that?”
Rayhold exclaimed.
“I know many things,” laughed
Onyx.
Onyx pulled an amulet from
his pocket. It was white, with faint swirls of grey running
throughout. In the shape of a rose bloom, two inches in size, it
was attached to a black twine necklace through one of the petals.
Onyx grinned, holding the rose and allowing the twine to dangle,
“Place this around her neck. She will love thee for it.”
Rayhold smiled, holding
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