Rogar's Assignment

Rogar peered out from the balcony, over Moillur and into the market place where hundreds were bustling to get their goods as early as possible. The livestock bells had their sound carried
by the wind which made the pine trees below dance and rustle against each other.

After a long night of studying the morning breeze was a welcome blessing. It was almost as if Triadinma was as it had always been before; full of life, excitement and heroes of all kind coming and going with news and tales of other lands.
His master Neilkot had demanded the completion of his assignment before dawn and now Rogar awaited the return of his mentor with judgment over his studies. Rogar had been asked to stand ready shortly after sunrise and to wait for his evaluation in the study chamber of his dorm. This small library as more of a home to him and he would often find himself more comfortable amongst books, owls and pixies than with regular folk.

- The dreams you hadn’t the time to enjoy, have they come now to haunt you? – asked Neilkot with a ring of laughter in his voice, startling young Rogar out of his boots.

- Master… - Rogar bowed after composing himself.

- Hush, child, sleep still rules over your thoughts now, so it’s wiser to hold your words unspoken, while we have your assignment to review and report. –Neilkot motioned Rogar towards a large map table, where one could see the Triadin country and its surrounding four kingdoms.

Rogar sat beside his mentor with a shred of concern toiling his stomach – “Would Neilkot accept his study or condemn it?”

I see you’ve developed three possible solutions to the problem I had given you, when I had asked you for one alone. It pleases me to see you are gaining some confidence and that you’re also honing your imagination as well as your resourcefulness. Look here…

For a while Neilkot showed his apprentice how, with some small adjustments, or even seemingly insignificant inflexions, could a spell be enhanced, become different, inverted or even dangerously distorted.
So instead of feeling burdened with the weight of a humiliating evaluation, Rogar felt humbled and grateful for the kindness, generosity and even excitement with which Neilkot had been mentoring him. They followed on for another hour, or maybe two, with several warnings by Neilkot, some questions by Rogar, but indeed dozens of notes being taken along the way.
When at last the assignment had been revised and all the one hundred and thirty four variations of the spell reviewed, Neilkot stood up and brought up a scroll with a separate scroll box.

- Now you must lock this scroll in this box.

Rogar stood up as well and, while wiping his hands on his sleeves he looked up at his mentor and asked:

- What sort of lock should I cast?

- The kind that you and only you can unlock. If you pass this test I shall grant you full remarks over your assignment.

Placing the rolled scroll inside its wooden box and making sure all pieces that closed it were in their place, Rogar held the object horizontally with both hands – each at an end.
He knew now was not a moment to allow insecurity our doubt to cloud his mind. Closing his eyes he focused and with swift deep inhalation he decided how to cast the spell.

Revolving winds will not bend you

Ominous waters shan’t drown you

Gates of will enclose you

Although hammers try to break you

Raging fires won’t burn you.

While Rogar chanted his words, at each verse he turned the box towards the sky and the four winds.
His face was blushed and his voice embedded with an authority he hadn’t realized he possessed.
Neilkot smiled at him once the spell was completed.

- Now for the final and crucial step of this test, I shall break your spell. If I succeed you will not and I won’t allow you to learn more until you’ve mastered this level of our arts…

Rogar became very nervous, and he was intimidated both by the impressive power he knew his master wielded as well as by the prospect of not being able to further his studies beyond his current level for at least another season.

- … I must use a very strong spell, Rogar, and as you know, if I succeed in breaking your lock, you too will suffer from the break.

The blood in Rogar’s veins froze as he remembered that simple law.

Arn mroth, vagh hisash

Mehg yuvagh

Ardoth ashiss!

Arn mroth, vagh hisash

Mehg yuvagh

Ardoth ashiss!

Arn mroth, vagh hisash

Mehg yuvagh

Ardoth ashiss!

(Break from within, lock that was made

Cancel this lock

Broken, unmade!)

The library had become dark as midnight and cold as winter, as Neilkot’s voice resounded like thunder, echoing through the walls and, painfully, in Rogar’s chest.
He felt like the strength in his legs was leaving him as the pain in his chest punctured deeper.
Tears flowed from his eyes as he covered his ears in the dread of his seemingly bursting head.
But as suddenly as it had come, the overwhelming pain and atmosphere vanished as the locked box floated unharmed in an orb of bronze light.

Neilkot’s body had been thrown against the door and his disheveled hair covered his face, hiding whether the mentor was awake or not. Rogar had no sign of pain within so he rushed toward Neilkot worrying he might not be all right. The box remained ignored, aloft and contained in the metallic glow in which it had been locked. Rogar promptly kneeled by the master of the tower, his mentor, and grabbed his hand, rubbing it with concern for Neilkot’s life.
Neilkot’s hearty laughter assured Rogar once again, as he accepted the pupil’s assistance to stand again.

- You have made me proud, Rogar, your spell has been well cast and your lock could only be broken by others of my schooling, and only if they took hold of the box outside the protective boundaries of Triadin.

He walked up to the box and beckoned Rogar to take it.

- Indeed, only you can unlock it, so I hope you’re ready to do so when the time comes.

Rogar was uncertain as to what had just taken place, and took the box with an inquisitive gaze upon his master.

- Master, does this mean I can now pursue on to new studies?

- Yes it does, young pupil, though what lessons lay before you at this stage you do not yet expect. Come hither and let us study our map together, once again. Please name the kingdoms surrounding our country.

As it had been memorized after many nights of studying the geography of their land, Rogar began.

- To the North we find Navangor, the snowy kingdom where the bison lives, where women hold the ruling crown and men defend the borders. They are friends with the Triadin and have joined forces with our people in order to defend Gohruir, the kingdom in the South, against the vile invasion from Marzolk. Gohruir is a country of traders and scholars, who trust in the hired ally strength of our people and the Navangorians to repel the frequent border abuses from their neighbors –the Rapsengorians – and to resist against the heavy Marzolkin menace. In the midst of Triade, Navangor and Rapsengor there is the inscrutable kingdom of Awengoil, a land of mystery to most but a nestling home to our guardian brothers, the Elves. Rapsengor lays yonder East, a land of many deserts and increasingly dangerous liaisons with some of the Marzolkin lords. While keeping a somewhat respectful distance from Awengoil, Triade and Navangor, they often try to break their borders into Gohruir, the frail ally of our peoples. The few not so scholarly lands of Gohruir who try to make a stand against Rapsengor often require the support of Triadin arms and expertise.

- All right – said Neilkot, with his usual exercise drilling tone – now why does our Mythal need even more surveillance than before?

- Because many of those who created and helped maintain it have gone south of Vangoth, our southern border, to the Gohruirin planes of Snulkrag to fight off the Marzolk threat; which leaves our borders now on alert and the power of our Mythal diminished against some invaders.

- Now Rogar, there has been an unsuccessful but massive attack on our coastal town of Reanor. –stated Neilkot gravely.

- But that is where our sacred golden g... –Neilkot raised a hand, stopping Rogar.

- Unexpected as it was, they didn’t make it to our vaults, but Reanor has lost many people and even more were left injured. Reanor’s halrs are doing the best they can but if they don’t get help soon, there will be more losses and grief to account and suffer. In an attempt to appease them in their ordeal, I have written a formal request to the Order of the Heart, so that they can send envoys to aid in this hard moment.

- But master, you know the Order is mostly out of Triade and the few left are on fixed tour cycles in the country.

- That is why I shall send you to the head of the order while they are stationed in Keylarmir.

Rogar dropped his jaw as if the walls around him had suddenly disappeared.

- How… how… how am I supposed to reach Keylarmir?

- If you pay heed to my advice and follow your guide respectfully, you should be able to reach Keylarmir within two days.

- But sir, Keylarmir is five days away!

- And you’ll crash your bottom on Moillur hill in ten seconds if you don’t quit pestering me! – retorted Neilkot harshly; Rogar lowered his head.

- I have sent two boxes with different healing potions to Reanor, so that they have some initial help until you get to Keylarmir. Once there you must find the head of the Order and deliver the letter immediately. But let me give you my advice then; the box and scroll you have just locked contain the letter I have mentioned. Let no one know you carry it. You should take the Tome of Elleandril, since many of the spells you can already cast are well saved in there. As for your mission, only one person knows why you’ll come to Keylarmir and that’s the one you should unlock the box to.

- How about my guide, master?

- Ah, I shall introduce you shortly. Let us have our breakfast so you can prepare to leave after lunch.

Neilkot noticed the agony Rogar was in. The boy was now too accustomed to the laboratories and libraries in the tower. He had found refuge there with Neilkot and was eager to learn, but all to weary of venturing out into the world as any mage to be should. As much as Neilkot enjoyed the apprenticeship he would, in fact, be doing the boy a disservice if he were not to send him out.

- Oh spare yourself the sulking, Rogar, it’s not like I am sending you to the battling planes in the South. You’re within our lands, where there isn’t much for you to fear, if you follow your guide.

Neilkot patted his pupil’s shoulder reassuringly, while the younger mumbled a short complaint as both walked down to the kitchen…