A SINGLE NIGHT. . .
The day had finally finished that night, and Aariah was weary from teaching her student. After getting into her nightgown, she turned down her oil lamp until it was barely lit and crawled into her fluffy bed for a good night's sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Her little student was more than still awake however. After returning to his magic teacher, he did indeed learn how to restore words to a washed out book; that being his actual lesson that evening.
After heading to bed, he instead took a candle and crept out of his master's house and went across the village to Aariah's home. Approaching the bookcase, he got on his tip toes and looked to see if the book was still there. His candle shed light on many top row books, but the old and tattered one of his teacher's was not there.
He was just about to head back to his master's place when he passed by the desk. Normally, the desk was perfectly straightened, but this time, he noticed the papers atop it ajar, and the desk itself was askew - he could tell that by the dust on the floor. He decided to check it, just to see if she put the book somewhere else so that he doesn't see it again tomorrow. Opening up the drawer, it was indeed there. So he carefully took it up and brought it to the table. Careful to be quiet, he opened the book and counted the pages before skipping to the center page. He reached for his candle and carefully dripped a single drop of wax onto the center seam. After that, he pulled out a black raven's feather from under his shirt and began fanning it over the wax and pages. "Everything old, is still remembered," he began to whisper quietly, "but what is missing must be found. In a search that has been hindered, bring back theses words that were paper bound." Instantly ink seemed to bleed onto the papers, turning them black. And after blackening the entire book, it seemed to run off, leaving the old messages behind. The boy's eyes widened.
* * * * * * * * * *
Aariah's dreams were vague. Blasts of bright color crossed her sight in reds, oranges, blues, and yellows. The colors seemed to whirl in a pinwheel before being encircled by green and brown. The green and brown made the other colors shrink in the center and speed up their pinwheel like movement before they burst out in a bright blur and an audible thump.
Aaraih sat bolt upright on bed, awake and heart racing. Realizing the thump she had heard wasn't from her dream; she quickly got out of bed and went for her lamp. Upon making it a little brighter, she quickly stepped out her room door to see what was going on. At the sound of her door creaking open a face lifted from the floor in fright, "What the. . .!?" strewn upon her floor was two chairs, her old book, the folded paper, and her young student. "What are you doing here!?" she half shrieked, half whispered.
The little boy quickly got up from the floor and backed into the table; still silent.
Stepping forward she picked up her book and gasped. "You restored. . . my book!" the last two words were almost in a sad cry.
"I-I didn't know. . ." her little student tried as she still stared at the book. "I thought it would make you feel better. . . if. . . if I restored it. But. . ." he didn't want the rest of his sentence to be aloud, for it would make it concrete that his teacher was an illegal magic user.
Aariah wasn't even paying attention to him. She was too distracted by the realization that her life was over, starting now. She really wasn't much of an element mage anymore, and other than that trip to the woods, she hadn't used her magic in two years. But now, after such a long time of starting a different life, she was caught. Aariah sat on the floor and began to cry, not tearing her eyes from the renewed words on the pages of the book in her hands.
A few moments had passed when her little student realized that he wasn't in trouble. It was his teacher, who was in trouble. "A. . . Aariah?" he asked quietly, as he stepped closer to her.
She began to whisper to herself in desperation. "I. . . I should have left this buried. . ." her tone became louder, "Buried and forgotten in those retched woods!" She went silent for a moment, before going back to the whispering. "I should have let that. . . that Traveler take my magic. . . If I had, it wouldn't come back to haunt me like this!" her sobs became more ragged.
"Aariah," his tone became one of pure sympathy. "This isn't an end. I won't tell anyone. Honest I won't."
Aariah finally looked up at the little boy. "It won't matter," she sniffled, "Magic tools that are not dormant can always be sensed by any first year student. . . e. . . even your master." The boy was silent beside her. "Once he wakes up, he'll sense a new magic tool, and wonder what's going on."
The boy thought for a moment, "What if we make it dormant again by putting it in the river and washing it of its words again? Won't that work?"
She looked at him quietly. . . "No. . . no, that won't do it, only magic can erase a restoration spell. And if I use magic here, it'll wake you master and he will know." She began to whisper sadly to herself again, "I should have left it buried. I should have left it buried. . . if only I had just left it there, on that burned, charred, spot. . . far away on the other side of fight lake, I could. . . this wouldn't be happening then." She half heartedly tossed the book away from her and began to sob into her nightgown.
For a long time she sat like that; crying. All of her life that had been covered for such a long time was now hitting her head on. By then end of that time, she realized, she needed to leave. She needed to get out of her home of two years, and go somewhere away from her student's master. She lifted her head and looked around for her book. Blinking a couple of times, shoe couldn't see it within the light of her lamp. "Little one. . ." she whispered with what control she had just gained, "where is. . ." Her eyes became wide now, as she realized he was gone. Franticly standing, she lit her lamp even brighter, enough to light the room. Her book was gone, and so was her little student.
The day had finally finished that night, and Aariah was weary from teaching her student. After getting into her nightgown, she turned down her oil lamp until it was barely lit and crawled into her fluffy bed for a good night's sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Her little student was more than still awake however. After returning to his magic teacher, he did indeed learn how to restore words to a washed out book; that being his actual lesson that evening.
After heading to bed, he instead took a candle and crept out of his master's house and went across the village to Aariah's home. Approaching the bookcase, he got on his tip toes and looked to see if the book was still there. His candle shed light on many top row books, but the old and tattered one of his teacher's was not there.
He was just about to head back to his master's place when he passed by the desk. Normally, the desk was perfectly straightened, but this time, he noticed the papers atop it ajar, and the desk itself was askew - he could tell that by the dust on the floor. He decided to check it, just to see if she put the book somewhere else so that he doesn't see it again tomorrow. Opening up the drawer, it was indeed there. So he carefully took it up and brought it to the table. Careful to be quiet, he opened the book and counted the pages before skipping to the center page. He reached for his candle and carefully dripped a single drop of wax onto the center seam. After that, he pulled out a black raven's feather from under his shirt and began fanning it over the wax and pages. "Everything old, is still remembered," he began to whisper quietly, "but what is missing must be found. In a search that has been hindered, bring back theses words that were paper bound." Instantly ink seemed to bleed onto the papers, turning them black. And after blackening the entire book, it seemed to run off, leaving the old messages behind. The boy's eyes widened.
* * * * * * * * * *
Aariah's dreams were vague. Blasts of bright color crossed her sight in reds, oranges, blues, and yellows. The colors seemed to whirl in a pinwheel before being encircled by green and brown. The green and brown made the other colors shrink in the center and speed up their pinwheel like movement before they burst out in a bright blur and an audible thump.
Aaraih sat bolt upright on bed, awake and heart racing. Realizing the thump she had heard wasn't from her dream; she quickly got out of bed and went for her lamp. Upon making it a little brighter, she quickly stepped out her room door to see what was going on. At the sound of her door creaking open a face lifted from the floor in fright, "What the. . .!?" strewn upon her floor was two chairs, her old book, the folded paper, and her young student. "What are you doing here!?" she half shrieked, half whispered.
The little boy quickly got up from the floor and backed into the table; still silent.
Stepping forward she picked up her book and gasped. "You restored. . . my book!" the last two words were almost in a sad cry.
"I-I didn't know. . ." her little student tried as she still stared at the book. "I thought it would make you feel better. . . if. . . if I restored it. But. . ." he didn't want the rest of his sentence to be aloud, for it would make it concrete that his teacher was an illegal magic user.
Aariah wasn't even paying attention to him. She was too distracted by the realization that her life was over, starting now. She really wasn't much of an element mage anymore, and other than that trip to the woods, she hadn't used her magic in two years. But now, after such a long time of starting a different life, she was caught. Aariah sat on the floor and began to cry, not tearing her eyes from the renewed words on the pages of the book in her hands.
A few moments had passed when her little student realized that he wasn't in trouble. It was his teacher, who was in trouble. "A. . . Aariah?" he asked quietly, as he stepped closer to her.
She began to whisper to herself in desperation. "I. . . I should have left this buried. . ." her tone became louder, "Buried and forgotten in those retched woods!" She went silent for a moment, before going back to the whispering. "I should have let that. . . that Traveler take my magic. . . If I had, it wouldn't come back to haunt me like this!" her sobs became more ragged.
"Aariah," his tone became one of pure sympathy. "This isn't an end. I won't tell anyone. Honest I won't."
Aariah finally looked up at the little boy. "It won't matter," she sniffled, "Magic tools that are not dormant can always be sensed by any first year student. . . e. . . even your master." The boy was silent beside her. "Once he wakes up, he'll sense a new magic tool, and wonder what's going on."
The boy thought for a moment, "What if we make it dormant again by putting it in the river and washing it of its words again? Won't that work?"
She looked at him quietly. . . "No. . . no, that won't do it, only magic can erase a restoration spell. And if I use magic here, it'll wake you master and he will know." She began to whisper sadly to herself again, "I should have left it buried. I should have left it buried. . . if only I had just left it there, on that burned, charred, spot. . . far away on the other side of fight lake, I could. . . this wouldn't be happening then." She half heartedly tossed the book away from her and began to sob into her nightgown.
For a long time she sat like that; crying. All of her life that had been covered for such a long time was now hitting her head on. By then end of that time, she realized, she needed to leave. She needed to get out of her home of two years, and go somewhere away from her student's master. She lifted her head and looked around for her book. Blinking a couple of times, shoe couldn't see it within the light of her lamp. "Little one. . ." she whispered with what control she had just gained, "where is. . ." Her eyes became wide now, as she realized he was gone. Franticly standing, she lit her lamp even brighter, enough to light the room. Her book was gone, and so was her little student.
