The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) (18 page)

Elec nodded as she finished voicing her observation. Suddenly, the door opened wide. Keryth stood there in his bright red robes. The ornate golden stitching all over the arms and chest added to the regality of his stature.

“The people have mixed feelings as to how much blame they are assigning our son,” he announced bluntly. “Murmurs abound as to what could have—and should have—been done!”

“Keryth!” Alaise admonished, glaring at her husband.

“Hold your tongue, woman!” He returned her stare a hundred-fold. “This news reflects on
our
family in a negative light! The elders and mages are speaking of what happened and are telling the tale as they saw it—that Elec could have stopped the incident but failed to do so.” Keryth turned his scalding gaze upon his son now. “He failed to enact a single spell. He failed to stop that fool Jhaeronas from injuring Anthalion. And it could have been worse!”

 “Why do they blame Elec?” Alaise asked in all seriousness.

“Because it is obvious to them all that he—and he alone—had the ability to stop Jhaeronas from finishing his spell since he was the one nearest,” Keryth explained. Then he spun on his heel and left the room in a huff.

“He is right, you know,” Elec admitted after a few moments of silence. “I could have stopped him, if only….”

Alaise said nothing and instead gave Elec a hug that seemed to last for hours.

Morning came once more and the passing of time did nothing to quell the guilt that Elec felt. He approached his alchemy that morning with passion unparalleled, diving into his work in order to forget about his problems. The hours passed and he continued mixing and testing elixirs, theorizing about different effects based on his findings.

Faorath entered his nephew’s workspace and found Elec engrossed in his work. He moved into view, startling Elec and nearly causing him to drop his latest potion, but fortunately he snatched it back in a flash.

“You have good reflexes,” Faorath proffered, nodding to Elec and watching him as he pushed aside a curly strand of dark hair from in front of his eyes.

“Thank you, uncle,” Elec answered, still focused on his experiments. When he finally managed to look up, he witnessed his uncle exploring the contents of his bookcase, which was filled with texts on the topics of magic and science.

“I wrote this one, you know,” Faorath informed him, pulling one tome in particular from the shelf. It was a book explaining the training and handling of exotic magical beasts.

“Yes, and it is something that I want to discuss with you,” Elec admitted. “I would like to train as a Wind Rider.” Faorath’s amber eyes widened at this revelation.

“Your father—“

“Would be more than happy to be rid of me,” Elec finished the sentence for him. “I would no longer be a disappointment to the family and this would perhaps free my mind from the torment of spellcasting.”

Faorath stood silent for several moments and then nodded his affirmation. “Very well, I will approach your father on the subject.” He smiled a wide grin in appreciation of Elec’s decision as he strode to the exit.

When Faorath returned over an hour later, he found Elec once more deep in study, but this time he was reading the book his uncle had written. Elec looked up from the thick tome and smiled, nodding a greeting.

“I have read this book at least seven times,” Elec disclosed. “I have always wondered what it would be like to fly above the trees and into the clouds, to discover what Wothlondia and even all of Krotto has to offer in the ways of nature’s beauty.”

“It did not take much convincing for your father to agree to this,” Faorath stated bluntly as he stood with his hands on his hips. “He feels that if he presents this news to the elders, it will assuage their doubts and help his standing to remain as it was—‘unblemished’ was the word he used, I believe. No matter, Stormwhisper has been a powerful name in the family of high elven mages over thousands of years, as you are reminded each day.”

“Aye,” Elec agreed. “I feel that if I had been something of a
real
Stormwhisper mage, I could have stopped Jhaeronas.”

“You
are
a real Stormwhisper, Elec. Do not doubt this. Just because you do not show an aptitude for manipulating the powers of Arcana does not make you any less a family member.”

“That is not what my father says,” Elec refuted. “My sister and brother and all of the Stormwhispers before them were able to do this. I do not understand why I cannot.” Elec peered into a mirror. “I even look different than all of my family,” he added, twirling a lock of his dark hair in his fingers, then flicking it away in disgust. “I have dark hair and my eyes are unlike those of any of my kin. I have never seen another high elf with features such as mine!”

“Your masteries lie elsewhere. That is quite obvious,” Faorath offered, waving a hand over the workspace. “You are quite a remarkable alchemist, as well as an expert in the ways of mechanics. As for your features, you are exotic, yes, but it adds to your unique character. It does not detract from anything you do, nor does it define you. You will do well to remember that.”

Faorath headed to the door, pulled the handle and swung it wide open. “Come to me when you are ready to begin your training.”

Elec watched the door close behind him and returned to his book. But try as he might, this time he could not digest the words, for his mind was elsewhere.

The Wind Riders’ station was several miles away and up the side of a large mountain. The Wind Riders used the caverns as well as the summit of the wide peak to train their apprentices. This venue also provided the magical beasts a place to make their homes. Elec could not wait to see it up close.

As he made his way through the village, he could not help but overhear some of the elves making mention of the failed wedding and his failures in the events there. Most of it was rumor, but it added another dimension to his humiliation as he heard many accusatory and damning opinions of his actions—or lack thereof. He began to run toward the pathways that would lead him to the top of the mountain and to his uncle. He did not look back or stop once along the entire two mile trail.

“Glad you could make it,” Faorath greeted him when Elec reached the top of the trail. Faorath sat atop a griffon. Elec stepped back as the creature advanced toward him.

“Do not be frightened, for they can sense fear and it tends to make them aggressive,” Faorath advised his nephew, tying his golden mane into a pony tail.

This time Elec calmly and confidently approached the creature and patted its head and beak, admiring also the leonine musculature that made up its hindquarters.

“This will be your mount with which to train,” Faorath informed him with a wave of his hand. Elec turned to regard one of the Wind Riders leading a giant eagle down from the crest of the mountain top. “If things go well, you will not only become its master, but you will also befriend the creature.”

Elec was handed the reins of the leather harness that was strapped around the beast’s head and midsection. The giant eagle did not even resist when Elec took them. It simply stood still as if waiting for its passenger to climb aboard, and Elec did so, slowly and carefully.

“Freedoms abound for you now,” Faorath stated to Elec, turning his griffon toward the edge of the nearest cliff face. He looked back at Elec and then gestured for him to follow. “You read my book, now act on it.”

Elec grabbed the reins tightly and patted the eagle on the side, then whispered, “Let us take this journey together, friend.” The giant eagle walked after the griffon, ending up directly to the left of Faorath. With a flapping of their mighty wings, both magical creatures took to the air. Elec swallowed hard as he lurched forward. He was in awe as the eagle ascended into the sky, following the griffon. They flew for several miles before turning back to eventually land atop the crest of the mountain once again. It was magnificent, thought Elec. He could not quell the boyish excitement gushing forth as he smiled wide. He stroked the giant eagle on its beak and head. The magical creature seemed to survey him before turning its head forward once more. Elec raised an eyebrow at that.

They repeated the route several times over and Elec felt a greater command with each flap of the eagle’s wings. They landed after the twelfth such trip. Faorath stopped him for a moment, commanding his griffon to stand next to Elec.

“You must give the bird a name,” Faorath instructed, caressing the head of his own mount. Elec thought about this for a few moments, then looked to the sky with a smile.

“Adok.” It was the ancient elven word for
grace
.

“Very well, let us take
Adok
on a longer journey and, before the end of this day, you will feel as if the two of you are but one being.” With that, they were off and flying once more, not returning to the surface of the mountain until the sun sank low in the western sky.

The next few years were by and large the same. Elec often conversed with Adok as they flew together, sharing his innermost thoughts with the giant eagle. The flights were cathartic to him as he often spoke aloud of the events of the botched wedding and about his friend Jhaeronas, speculating as to where he might be now. He could neither escape the inner guilt nor the constant stream of rumors and whispers about his magical breakdown. His sister eventually married Anthalion and all was well in that regard. No matter what he did, though, Elec could not seem to shake the culpability and trepidation, or avoid the surreptitious glances he received from his own people. His home life was no better since his father, who was at the very least ashamed of his youngest child, shunned him pitilessly.