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Authors: John Forrester
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hated the messy parts of preparing the roast. Perhaps that’s why I turned to magic at a very early age?” His fingers formed an edge, and a brilliant skinning knife appeared near the boar. His other hand raised, and the boar lifted into the air. The magical knife made quick work preparing the boar for roast.
“How did you learn such a thing?” Mara said, her mouth gaped in fascination.
The sorcerer chuckled. “I’ve had years of practice…” He commanded the boar to move and connected it with the spit roast iron. “Now, the special lathering oil my grandmother taught me: garlic and black truffle infused olive oil soaked in rosemary springs.”
Nikulo literally drooled as the low flames from the coal sizzled after the oil had splattered off the boar. The air smelled hideously rich as the boar roasted. “And the wine, kind sir? You mentioned a good red wine. We wouldn’t want to disrespect this fine boar with anything less, would we?”
“Ah, yes, the wine.” Palarian scratched his silver and black mangy beard. “I’ve had wines from all over the world, and I have to say I’m partial to Jiserian vintages from the south.”
Talis, Mara, and Nikulo went silent, staring at the sorcerer like he was a viper. Were the Tarasen Isles allied with the Jiserian Empire, their enemies? Was this sorcerer sent here to challenge Talis in a duel?
“I see I’ve struck a sensitive chord with the young masters. The war still not over yet?” Palarian flicked his wrist and the boar circled around on the roasting iron, pops and crackles of oil on the fire sending out a smell that made Talis ravenous with hunger.
“Please, sit by the fire. The roast will be ready soon.” The old man reached into his robes, and withdrew a bottle of red wine. “The finest vintage in Carvina, stolen from the Jiserian emperor’s own cellars.”
Palarian’s eyes sparkled devilishly. “Now how about that drink?”
Talis released a sigh, and sat, warming his hands by the fire. “Anyone who steals from our enemies is a friend of Naru. I’d be happy to share a drink with you, traveler.”
The sorcerer pulled a crystal goblet from the other sleeve, popped the cork, and poured a glass of velvety-smooth red wine that wafted aromas of cherry and oak and honey into Talis’s nostrils.
“There, now, and a glass for the young lady, and for the young gentleman….”
“I’m usually called worse things,” Nikulo said, and grunted. “But I’ll gladly take your wine, and a cup or three more.” He took the goblet and raised it in toast to the others. “To new friends and old enemies, may our friendship bloom and our enemy’s arses wither.” Nikulo downed the full glass, and tried stifling a belch, but it came out as a rumble instead.
Palarian let out a small laugh. “Colorful friends you have, young wizard. This one has the gift as well?”
“Healing.” Talis took a sip of the wine, and let the smooth liquid roll around in his mouth. “And other useful magic.”
Nikulo squinted in appreciation. “And you, traveler? What’s your story? All this way to simply pay your respects?”
The corner of the sorcerer’s mouth raised in a half smile, and to Talis’s eyes, the expression of deception. “Word has spread across the world of your power, young wizard. The boy who holds the magic of the Goddess Nacrea in his hands. And of course, of the new Temple of the Sun.”
“Along with the black crystal.” Talis studied Palarian for any hints, but the sorcerer’s face remained unmoved.
“A rare power indeed flows here from the earth, bringing life-nurturing energy to the land surrounding the temple.” The sorcerer closed his eyes and inhaled a long, noisy breath through his teeth. “I can feel its power flowing through me… I do not wither, nor die, it nurtures me too, as you.”
Talis frowned. Could Palarian channel the magic of the black crystal? Was there danger of losing the temple and its power to this
“How did you learn such a thing?” Mara said, her mouth gaped in fascination.
The sorcerer chuckled. “I’ve had years of practice…” He commanded the boar to move and connected it with the spit roast iron. “Now, the special lathering oil my grandmother taught me: garlic and black truffle infused olive oil soaked in rosemary springs.”
Nikulo literally drooled as the low flames from the coal sizzled after the oil had splattered off the boar. The air smelled hideously rich as the boar roasted. “And the wine, kind sir? You mentioned a good red wine. We wouldn’t want to disrespect this fine boar with anything less, would we?”
“Ah, yes, the wine.” Palarian scratched his silver and black mangy beard. “I’ve had wines from all over the world, and I have to say I’m partial to Jiserian vintages from the south.”
Talis, Mara, and Nikulo went silent, staring at the sorcerer like he was a viper. Were the Tarasen Isles allied with the Jiserian Empire, their enemies? Was this sorcerer sent here to challenge Talis in a duel?
“I see I’ve struck a sensitive chord with the young masters. The war still not over yet?” Palarian flicked his wrist and the boar circled around on the roasting iron, pops and crackles of oil on the fire sending out a smell that made Talis ravenous with hunger.
“Please, sit by the fire. The roast will be ready soon.” The old man reached into his robes, and withdrew a bottle of red wine. “The finest vintage in Carvina, stolen from the Jiserian emperor’s own cellars.”
Palarian’s eyes sparkled devilishly. “Now how about that drink?”
Talis released a sigh, and sat, warming his hands by the fire. “Anyone who steals from our enemies is a friend of Naru. I’d be happy to share a drink with you, traveler.”
The sorcerer pulled a crystal goblet from the other sleeve, popped the cork, and poured a glass of velvety-smooth red wine that wafted aromas of cherry and oak and honey into Talis’s nostrils.
“There, now, and a glass for the young lady, and for the young gentleman….”
“I’m usually called worse things,” Nikulo said, and grunted. “But I’ll gladly take your wine, and a cup or three more.” He took the goblet and raised it in toast to the others. “To new friends and old enemies, may our friendship bloom and our enemy’s arses wither.” Nikulo downed the full glass, and tried stifling a belch, but it came out as a rumble instead.
Palarian let out a small laugh. “Colorful friends you have, young wizard. This one has the gift as well?”
“Healing.” Talis took a sip of the wine, and let the smooth liquid roll around in his mouth. “And other useful magic.”
Nikulo squinted in appreciation. “And you, traveler? What’s your story? All this way to simply pay your respects?”
The corner of the sorcerer’s mouth raised in a half smile, and to Talis’s eyes, the expression of deception. “Word has spread across the world of your power, young wizard. The boy who holds the magic of the Goddess Nacrea in his hands. And of course, of the new Temple of the Sun.”
“Along with the black crystal.” Talis studied Palarian for any hints, but the sorcerer’s face remained unmoved.
“A rare power indeed flows here from the earth, bringing life-nurturing energy to the land surrounding the temple.” The sorcerer closed his eyes and inhaled a long, noisy breath through his teeth. “I can feel its power flowing through me… I do not wither, nor die, it nurtures me too, as you.”
Talis frowned. Could Palarian channel the magic of the black crystal? Was there danger of losing the temple and its power to this
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