Once upon an age...., A short story with a lesson for mages. Options

[Black Hand]

Once upon an age, there lived a wizard-hermit deep in the ashlands of Vvardenfell. Content with his solitary lot in life, age soon forced his hand to take an apprentice on and teach his craft for the next generation.

For the expanse of his childhood, the boy learned everything the wizard-hermit had to teach in every College that there was, for the wizard-hermit was a Mage that was from a line that eschewed material items and use, apart from the most basic of needs. The boy grew into a man, and became a powerful wizard in his own right. Just as powerful as his master, but perhaps not as wise.

The fateful day came and the wizard-hermit sent his apprentice away, citing that he had nothing left to teach. However, it was time for him to ply his craft amongst the world, and to learn of it, and himself. When he felt that he was ready, it would be time for him to return for a final lesson that could not be learned now.

For many years, the former apprentice travelled the island, going on many adventures and hoarding the spoils thereof. Until one day he felt that he had amassed enough wealth to impress his former master.

Arriving to his former home, the man called out to the wizard, and smiled as he proudly stood before him, wearing fineries and clutching an elegant staff with both hands, a beaming, prideful smile upon his face.

"Master! I have seen the world and I have taken from it its wealth! I stand before you having finished my training!" he boasted jubilantly.

The old wizard-hermit looked over the boy, and shook his head. "Your training is far from over my headstrong apprentice, you have learned nothing!" he chided him.

The proud apprentice snorted at the old man's words, believing him to be jealous of his success.

"Behold the robes I wear master! The Robe of Drakes Pride! Surely you have never witnessed finer robes with such exquisite enchantments!" he said with a slight derisiveness to his tone.

The Old Wizard stroked his beard, and replied: "They are truly fine robes indeed. But mine are simple and much more useful to me." he replied with a matter-of-fact tone that implied no genuflection.

The Apprentice looked over the Wizards simple brown robes, like something akin to what a monk would wear. "Are they enchanted as well?" the apprentice asked with an argument rising in his tone.

"No" the Wizard replied plainly.

"Then how are they more useful?" the apprentice nearly laughed aloud.

The wizard-hermit walked past the apprentice and then bade him to follow. The two embarked on a journey through the ashlands to Maar Gan. Once there, the wizard walked into the local inn, and then came back outside. "Go inside and ask for a room, then tell me how much gold they ask for."he said with a rising amusement.

The apprentice came back outside with a disgusted look on his face. "Thirty Gold! For a room not fit for a blighted rat!" the apprentice scoffed out haughtily.

The wizard smiled as he told the boy that he was charged three gold.

He then told his apprentice to count how many people stopped him on his way to the silt strider. The man watched the wizard walk through the main square of the town, without anyone even noticing that he was there.

When he arrived to the foot of the strider port, he motioned for his apprentice to come over. Along the way the apprentice was stopped by a lady asking him to cure her child of droops, propositioned by a party of adventurers looking to add a mage to their party, and asked by a small group of children to display his awesome powers.

When he arrived to the old wizard, the man was the one smiling this time. The two then returned to his home in the ashlands, once there, the man walked to a small creek near the house, and disrobed to wash his robe of the dust and ash, and looked at his apprentice asking if he would do the same.

"Nonsense! These are the finest silks in all the lands! One cannot simply just dunk them in water!" the apprentice cried.

The old man smiled again. "So you have seen how your robes have cost you more than mine. People will assume you are rich, and ask for more money. People will assume you are a powerful mage; even though you are one, and ask a thousand and one favors from you." He lectured gently.

"Finally, you cannot even clean those robes without paying someone else to clean them. As I said my robes are far more useful because they serve me, and not the other way around."

The apprentice took the lesson humbly, and wrapped up the Drakes pride, and put upon his old simple robes that he had worn for many years training with the wizard-hermit.

The next morning over breakfast, the wizard-hermit asked him of his experiences, and when discussing his many adventures the apprentice displayed the Staff of Magnus, and rare and powerful artifact, legendary among mages. The wizard-hermit looked at it with unimpressed eyes.

The apprentice sighed, as he knew that another lesson was coming. The wizard-hermit stood up and beckoned for him to follow. Once more they trudged through the ashlands, this time to an old Ancestral Tomb, and in spite of the apprentices misgivings, they both entered the dark, haunted chambers.

What greeted them first was an old guardian skeleton, that unsheathed its rusty blade, and rushed forward towards the intruders, the wizard-herrmit blocked the blow on his old wooden staff, and with a martial prowess of years of training, reduced the skeleton to a pile of bones in seconds.

They both proceeded further into the tomb, and yet another skeleton guardian was there to defend the tomb. The wizard-hermit motioned that it was the Apprentice' turn. The apprentice showed a similar skill with his staff; though not quite as skilled as his Master, and reduced the second skeleton to another pile of bones.

The two then proceeded even deeper into the tomb, this time two Ancestor Spirits awaited them, and also started to attack the intruders. The Apprentice immediately defended and dispersed the revenant with his staff, while the Wizards staff could not affect it, as it was but plain wood, he nonetheless dispersed the creature with powerful fireball.

The old man remained silent and began to walk out of the tomb, and the apprentice followed all the way to Maar Gan once more. There they entered into a smithy and each presented their staves to be repaired.

The smith looked over the wizard-hermit's staff, and smiled saying that he repair it for a gold piece, and it took only a few minutes. The smith then look over the apprentice's staff, and his eyes grew wide looking over the vast intricacies of inlaid gold, silver and precious gems, and the exquisite carvings.

"This will take at least a day, and will cost at least a hundred gold." The smith said.

The apprentice looked at the Wizard leaving with a triumphant smile, and took the staff with him.

"The simplicity of your staff doesn't require the fortune of a king to maintain. Yes, I understand." The apprentice said softly.

"Yes, but what was the second part of the lesson?"

The apprentice thought. "You don’t rely on your staff being enchanted?"

"Precisely. I don't use anything enchanted so I don't lose my edge in my true skills, which is Spellcasting. Tell me, can you cast 'God's Fire' yet?" he chided just as gently with the first lesson.

The apprentice admitted that he could not. It was a very powerful fire spell that only the masters of destruction could cast, his master among the few.

"And yet, had you cast even the simplest fire spell all these years you were gone, against all the dangers you had faced, you would now be a master times three. There is a cost to replacing your spells with something else. But magicka is free, and will always come back to you."

And so the Apprentice finally learned his true lesson, and that was wisdom. Which was more powerful than any spell, any staff, or any enchantment.

This post has been edited by Black Hand: Jun 8 2013, 11:56 PM

[darkynd]

Not too bad... I would say the thing holding this bit back the most is that there's simply too many small mistakes. Nothing truly glaring, just little errors here and there. Things like forgetting an apostrophe or flipping letters around. Also, you sometimes use too many commas, and your sentences get strung out as a result. For instance, your whole first paragraph is just one sentence, and it ended up feeling unwieldy as I read it. But other than the sheer mechanics of it, I liked the story. It had a good idea behind it, and an interesting moral.

[The Metal Mallet]

Content-wise, your work is strong as ever. It definitely displays something that could be found in a TES book. Just a quick proof-read next time and you'll likely catch those small errors and missed words.

[canis216]

Yes, this certainly could be a TES book, a skill-book of some sort, I suppose. Perhaps for blunt weapon or destruction.

[Black Hand]

Gah! Ran the rough draft through word, thought that it was the edited version I posted, but alas, it twas not, sorry for the horrible spelling and grammar.

[darkynd]

Yes, the difference is quite vast. This version is quite good, you've beaten practically all the problems I noticed the first time I read. Very nice.

[minque]

Nice , Blackie! A good read indeed...yessir....

[Lucidarius]

A story to learn from. I liked the lessons that the old wizard taught his apprentice, especially the one about not relying on an enchanted staff, but instead practicing even a humble fireball spell repeatedly. Very entertaining read.

[Fiach]

A good read, thanks for putting it up ^^

althoguh it seems that I was a little late with my coment.. xD

[Elisabeth Hollow]

I liked this little story :]