The rain made light tapping sound on the roof of Syrus’ tiny corner study on the western tower of the School of Elemental Magic. It was drafty and cold; the walls did not do their best to keep out the elements. The floor was blanketed with old dusty books, while a hundred more lay scattered on various book shelves located through out the little room. A solitary window opposite of the door looked out towards the western plains and to the towering mountains beyond. The gloom was slightly lifted by a single solitary candle that sat on a desk next to the window, and a youth could been seen scribbling madly on a piece of parchment, the wrinkles of his furrowed brow spoke of the deepest of concentration in the flickering yellow candle light. A gigantic cobwebbed filled clock ticked ominously in a dark corner of the room, counting the seconds, slicing away moment by moment with each tick.
The youth would pause a second or two to gaze through the mass of cobwebs and then begin scribbling even faster than before. He was going to be late and he knew his professor would have almost assuredly torn him limb from limb. This paper was due any minute, he did not want to fail his first term in Will Mastery. The rain outside seem to laugh at his misery. He scribbled on; the candle flickered here and there with the drafty air and still the clock continued to tick onward. He was going to drive himself mad if he kept this up, he was running out of time.
A spider skittered the surface of his desk and onto to his parchment. The boy let out a startled yell and made an attempt at smashing the spider with his ink bottle. However, his efforts were useless and the spider found a dark place underneath a pile of books on the right side of his desk.
‘No time now’ he thought to himself as he frantically began to write again. If only he had one more minute, he would have enough time to finish this stupid paper. He looked up at the clock again. He stared at it, wishing that he could just move the minute hand back…just a little bit. He sat there and gazed into its massive face as if he were in a trance; there was something strange about this enormous clock in this tiny room. He felt like he began to leave his body, as if he was not himself anymore. Suddenly, everything seemed to stand still, the rain on the window froze, the candle was motionless, and then the minute hand on the clock, as if enduring some great struggle to move forward, shook violently and then moved backward ever so slightly. Thinking that it was some malfunction in the clock itself, he simply shrugged his shoulders and took advantage of the faulty time keeper and went back to his writing.
However, the hand on the clock was the only thing that the youth noticed, and not the massive black spider that had moved backwards from the books to his parchment once again. Letting out yet another loud yell he squashed the spider with his hand and then wiped the remains underneath his desk. ‘A few more lines to go,’ he thought. His quill speeding from line to line with fury. Then, as if it were a miracle from the goddess herself, he was done! He rolled up the long parchment, stuck it underneath his robes and hurried out of his study and down the hall to the twisting stair case. His feet made loud clanging sounds as he ran down the steps, skipping one or two at a time. Another round and he would be there.
He was panting now as he burst through the doorway and through another long hall lined with statues, white marble pillars, and large oak doors with strange inscriptions on each. ‘Almost there! Two more doors and I’m there!’ he was being hopeful. Then he heard it, coming from one of the doors on the left, a loud unmistakable bellow.
“SYRUS! I sensed that was you! I could hear you huffing and puffing all the way down those stairs! Not to mention smell you! You have absolutely no concept of time, do you boy!” The door swung open, and the large hulking frame of Professor Ironside seemed to fill up the entire hall almost instantly. He was a Tauren, a race of wolf-like humanoids who were brought and assimilated into the empire a long time ago. Professor Ironside stood about 7 feet tall, with greenish fur that covered his entire girth. He was snarling at Syrus with two huge fangs protruding from his lower lip.
“I am sorry Professor, but this is my last class in the School of Elemental Magic, I am being recruited to the School of Will Mastery next term.” Syrus did not want to make eye contact with his now ex-mentor. He was dreading this day for weeks now, Professor Ironside was an excellent teacher, mentor, and even friend, although sometimes overly strict and intimidating at times, he could be gentle and understanding given the right circumstances.
There was a very long and awkward silence that was only interrupted by Syrus’ heaving breathing. Then, Professor Ironside snatched the parchment from Syrus’ hand and without a second thought it ignited instantly and smoldered into ash. Professor Ironside’s shaggy dropped a little and Syrus could see directly into those big sky blue eyes. He thought he saw a tiny glimpse of a tear forming on the corner of one of Professor Ironside’s eyes.
The Professor’s huge frame heaved up an down and his voice was low and deflated, “ Syrus, you can’t be serious. You were one of my best students…no one could summon water sprites let alone hold raw fire in their hands until their second or third class. But you! You could do it within your first year. “ Professor Ironside gave another huge sign accompanied by a growel. “And now, you are siding with those heartless bastards! Be one of their watch dogs…” he bared his fangs in disgust. “Not you, Syrus, I never thought you would do it!” his voice trembled for a moment.
“Professor, its nothing personal, it just a much better opportunity to serve the Provost to the best of my abilities,” Syrus looked sheepishly down at the black marble floor. “ They said that I passed every test with the highest marks!”, he said feeling a little less guilty. “Besides, think…I can be my own master with the knowledge I will gain!
Professor Ironside slammed his fist on the wall causing a huge crack to run up the side, while Syrus took a few steps away. “I really sorry Professor! I swear by the goddness that…”
“You have sold your soul, boy! And the rest of you will follow soon enough! You will not become free, only a slave to the new Provost and ultimately yourself. Syrus, you will be damning yourself, no good can come from this new school.” The Professor slammed his powerful fist against the wall again. He was breathing harder now, growling menacingly at Syrus. There were angry tears in his eyes, he quickly wiped them away. Syrus almost felt bad, but he justified his decision by telling himself that he could change the lives of the people of Celstra for the better, he knew he could. “P-professor, p-please here me out! Its nothing personal! Just a better way to help everyone…that’s all…” it sounded better in his head than when he had spoke it.
“Don’t come by my office again, you here me, Syrus! I am at a loss for words right now! You have hurt me far deeper than you will ever hurt those you seek to help!” And with that Professor Ironside turned and slammed the door behind him causing several pictures to fall from their places and one statue of a very old and wise Professor of the Elemental Arts to fall and shatter in from of Syrus’ feet. ‘It’s a much better opportunity’ Syrus repeated the phrase withuncertainly in his head.
And with that, he walked towards the stairs and back up to his cramped study to brood over what had just taken place. He felt bad that Professor Ironside was so upset…even to the point of crying. He had never thought he would ever seem the Professor cry! What had he done? ‘Perhaps it was for the best’ a small voice said in his head, ‘Your talent lies with Will Mastery, not outdated Elemental Magic…’ said the voice. Syrus stopped at the threshold of his bedroom and wanted to cry, wanted to feel some kind of emotion for the severed relationship between him and Professor Ironside, but something wouldn’t let him. ‘Its for the best…’ the voice repeated soothingly. “Its for the best…”, Syrus repeated and he slowly walked over to his bed that was covered in books pushing them off the bed and slumped his body on the dirty sheets. The rain outside played a pleasant tune on the wooden roof that soon swept any guilty though Syrus was feeling over Professor Ironside as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
Observations