And so I took my place beside the King as his sorcerer and advisor. The
court welcomed me with open arms and many of my mother's friends praised my
knowledge and skills. I still was not convinced that I would be of much
use to anyone. I still felt myself only an apprentice playing in his
master's robes.
Kendriun's death hung over me like a black cloud but no one else blamed me for the old man's fall. Many offered their condolences to me and I was touched at their sincerity. I had come to believe that I was a total failure for not being able to prevent neither his nor my mother's demise.
Alas, not even all the powers of elves could have healed them for I had been a marked man from the beginning. And even now that I know the truth, I still carry the weight of that guilt with me. Why? Because if it weren't for me they would still be alive. My life and power was the ultimate reason for their deaths and I will never be able to forgive myself for that.
It was during this period of weakness and self-doubt that I actually became more familiar with Annatar. Oh, woe to me! Had I but known this was his evil design all along I would have fought him to my last breath! But darkness never sleeps; it simply waits. It waits until we are weak and frightened and then it slips in and quietly covers us before we are able to recognize it for what it truly is. By then, we are powerless to counter it.
Spring and the promise of new life awakening after the long winter but I found no joy in the sunshine. Like one devoid of life, I went through the motions of casting weather and planting advisories, gathering herbs, preparing potions and advising the king. My heart had ceased to feel anything but pain.
I was gathering herbs in the garden one day when Annatar approached me.
"Mikal," he said gently. "I am very sorry for your loss. You have had a very difficult year. Is there anything I can do to ease your burden?"
I sighed heavily and faced him across a stretch of Basil. "Thank you, my lord Annatar, but I'm not sure if anyone can ease my burden," I said quietly.
"Your heart is troubled," he nodded. "You fear that you are not up to the task your master has left you," he said kindly.
"Yes," I admitted and lowered my eyes.
"You are more than capable of carrying on his work," Annatar reassured me and placed his hand over mine on the herb basket handle. Any resistance I had left against him completely vanished in that instant.
"Won't you come inside so we can talk?" I asked him. I needed someone besides poor Ghost to lay my troubles on.
Annatar smiled. "Of course," he said and followed me into the herbarium.
Over the long summer, Annatar paid me a weekly visit and we took up discussing many topics that he and Kendriun had haggled over. Gradually, I began to heal the grief of his death but I still had the nagging doubt in my mind that I was not able to take his place.
If I voiced such misgivings, Annatar would smile and re-assure me that I was being foolish. "Certainly, if His Majesty did not believe you were up to the task, he would not have appointed you," he would reason.
Kendriun's death hung over me like a black cloud but no one else blamed me for the old man's fall. Many offered their condolences to me and I was touched at their sincerity. I had come to believe that I was a total failure for not being able to prevent neither his nor my mother's demise.
Alas, not even all the powers of elves could have healed them for I had been a marked man from the beginning. And even now that I know the truth, I still carry the weight of that guilt with me. Why? Because if it weren't for me they would still be alive. My life and power was the ultimate reason for their deaths and I will never be able to forgive myself for that.
It was during this period of weakness and self-doubt that I actually became more familiar with Annatar. Oh, woe to me! Had I but known this was his evil design all along I would have fought him to my last breath! But darkness never sleeps; it simply waits. It waits until we are weak and frightened and then it slips in and quietly covers us before we are able to recognize it for what it truly is. By then, we are powerless to counter it.
Spring and the promise of new life awakening after the long winter but I found no joy in the sunshine. Like one devoid of life, I went through the motions of casting weather and planting advisories, gathering herbs, preparing potions and advising the king. My heart had ceased to feel anything but pain.
I was gathering herbs in the garden one day when Annatar approached me.
"Mikal," he said gently. "I am very sorry for your loss. You have had a very difficult year. Is there anything I can do to ease your burden?"
I sighed heavily and faced him across a stretch of Basil. "Thank you, my lord Annatar, but I'm not sure if anyone can ease my burden," I said quietly.
"Your heart is troubled," he nodded. "You fear that you are not up to the task your master has left you," he said kindly.
"Yes," I admitted and lowered my eyes.
"You are more than capable of carrying on his work," Annatar reassured me and placed his hand over mine on the herb basket handle. Any resistance I had left against him completely vanished in that instant.
"Won't you come inside so we can talk?" I asked him. I needed someone besides poor Ghost to lay my troubles on.
Annatar smiled. "Of course," he said and followed me into the herbarium.
Over the long summer, Annatar paid me a weekly visit and we took up discussing many topics that he and Kendriun had haggled over. Gradually, I began to heal the grief of his death but I still had the nagging doubt in my mind that I was not able to take his place.
If I voiced such misgivings, Annatar would smile and re-assure me that I was being foolish. "Certainly, if His Majesty did not believe you were up to the task, he would not have appointed you," he would reason.