 |
| Eliza |
I exited the inn after having (probably) one too many ales. I walked to the next street after informing the company leader of my destination. He told me to be careful and laughed. "You are too small to handle any trouble that might come your way." I laughed too. The judge, our leader, was correct. I stood less than five feet, and I was "as skinny as a plank" at 95 pounds. Still, both he and I knew that I could hold my own. Those who had tasted my daggers could verify that statement, save for the fact that they were all dead.
The shop owner that I was looking for was indeed a chandler, as I had heard, and it was obvious that he was also a ship's chandler. The case before me and the shelves that lined the wall were filled with oakum, iron marlinspikes, cloth, tallow, and lard. Lanterns and candles could also be seen; indeed, they were the dominant sale item. I was glad because I had come to order some custom-made candles.
The other cases in the store were filled with herbs, spices, and oils - I didn't recognize most of them, but I did conclude that the man (again, as I had heard) was some kind of wizard or magician. This became especially clear when I gazed across the counter to his desk: it was covered with books. No, not just books. I didn't recognize most of the titles, but the one that he had recently been reading caught my eye and held it. It was the much-noised volume called The Writ of The Northern Reaches.
That day was the first time that I had ever been exposed to such...magical...material. I was scared, for possessing or even being caught near such a book could result in a fiery death at the stake, at least in certain locales. Finally, I turned my gaze elsewhere. I had no time for such a dangerous and infamous tome. Little did I know, back then, that the volume would become an important part of my life's work. Nowadays, the words within the dark book are like a second language. In general, I have found that the practice of magic is about as difficult as ordering a meal at the local tavern.
"Are you looking for such books?" The shopkeeper startled me; I didn't see him enter. "For that matter," he continued, "can you read? Don't be offended, for many who enter herein are not literate." The owner regarded me with something akin to...interest? "I can make you a good deal, and I can even teach you enough to get started, assuming that you'll still be in Woodbrook and would be willing to pay a small fee. Are you traveling with one of the parties that have come into town over the past few days?"
I told him that I could read like a scholar and was indeed traveling. However, the party leader intended to take a break for at least a month. I asked what I might be able to learn within such a timeframe.
"Not a lot," he admitted. "But I can teach you enough so that you can probably continue studying on your own. You'll just need to buy a few essentials before you travel again."
"In that case," I said, "I'm interested." And so, on that day, a 17-year-old girl - an apprentice assassin - also became a would-be magician. That is how my career started. Years later, that young girl would become a capable magician and a valued member of her party.
An excerpt from The Diary of Eliza J. Koriner, Chief Wizard, Lieutenant, and Advisor to the Great King Neberoth the Lord of War.
Dedicated to the memory of my grandmother Eliza, who herself was something of a witchy woman.
The End
See more fiction here.
© 2024-2025 Lonestar Hobby Blog
