Chapter 2 – Corrupting Influences
School ended at the abbey at the third hour afternoon. Ten minutes later, acolyte Brogan appeared at the stables to collect Edwynn. Brogan found Edwynn and Jorik in a hushed conversation that ended a little too abruptly as he approached.
"Edwynn! I'm to tell you Myrista is waiting for you to walk her home outside the main hall. This is, if master Jorik is done with you."
Jorik slapped Edwynn on the shoulder and grinned in an impish fashion. "Oh, I think the kid has had enough lessons for one day. Why don't you head on home and think about what I've told you."
The two of them exchanged looks and Brogan knew immediately that they were sharing some private joke. Brogan sighed and shuffled his feet impatiently. He was in a foul mood. He had been in sister Wecenda's classroom, and Edwynn's comment about demon magic had offended their teacher deeply. She had lectured for the rest of the afternoon about the corrupting influences of dark magic. She rambled on and on about Arthas, the lost prince of Lorderon. The story of his fall from grace, and the fall of his kingdom five years ago, was well known to every man, woman, and child of Stormwind. The flood of the displaced from the north had swollen the ranks of the poor in the cities. Many of the refugees turned to banditry to survive. It had to the point where the farmers of Westfall were no longer safe in their own fields.
Brogan could care less about the fate of distant royalty. Sister Wecenda's lecture had stoked the fires of a more pressing concern. The acolyte cleared his throat and Edwynn detached himself from the stable master and joined him. Together they began the return trip to the main hall.
"What the hell are you grinning about fool?" Brogan sneered.
"Today has been…eventful" Edwynn smiled with barely contained glee. "Jorik told me something, well… remarkable."
"What? Some fantastic new method for shoveling horseshyte?"
Edwynn's pleasant expression dropped and his eyes narrowed. "There's a lot more to him than you know Brogan."
"Oh, I'm sure there is. I can't imagine what you see in him Edwynn. I mean, two months ago you saw him do the most amazing knife trick at the faire, and that you're going to get him to show it to you. The next thing I know, Myrista tells me you're neglecting your chores to waste your time afternoons there, and now sister Wecenda says you're going to be spending half your lessons with him too. So please, by all means le me know what's so fascinating about him."
Edwynn said nothing. The two boys were schoolmates but not exactly friends. While similar in age, socially the only thing they had in common was that they were both orphans. Edwynn's father had been a peasant who had worked in the alliance army, building barracks and watchtowers for the army as it marched. He had died in far off Kalimdor. His mother had passed away from illness two winters ago. Now Edwynn lived with his mother's sister and her husband. They worked at a manor near the abbey, owned by Myrista's uncle, sir Mallius Crownguard.
Brogan's family were wizards, from Dalaron. When prince Arthas had gone mad, he led his undead armies south from Lorderon and attacked the magical kingdom. Brogan was one of over a dozen children who had been sent to Stormwind for their safety. That was five years ago, and Brogan had never stopped waiting for word from his parents. Word never came.
The two boys rounded the front of the abbey, where they found most of the students were clustered near the main doors. A set of peddlers' wagons stood on the east end of a cleared square that roughly served as the abbey's forum. Myrista stood with the other two noble born girls on the abbey's steps, gossiping. Myrista's ink black hair and pale complexion contrasted sharply with the two blondes. All three wore the white high-collared robes of apprentice priestesses. They were students of the light, and Myrista was scheduled to be confirmed into the order by midsummer.
"Edwynn, we were just talking about out." Myrista remarked as the boys approached. "You sent sister Wecenda into quite a fit with your remarks earlier. Every student has to write five hundred words on prince Arthas now because of you."
"My apologies, my lady." Edwynn made a formal bow that certainly seemed out of place in the forum. This sent the noble born girls into a fit of giggles and Myrista gave a sharp frown. "You can trust that it will never happen again."
"You're awfully bold today, Edwynn. What's gotten into you?"
"Must be whatever the stable master has been teaching him." Brogan interjected. "Anyways, let's get going"
Myrista bid a quick goodbye to her friends and the three departed south along the road. Brogan had been fostered on a farmstead near the estate of Myrista's uncle. As the stories of bandit raids in Westfall and southern Elwynn Forest grew more common, the abbey began insisting that children walk together for safety.
"So what was so amazing that Jorik has you ditching chores to spend your free time with him?" Brogan asked as they moved away from the forum.
Edwynn held his tongue. He had been so excited to learn Jorik's secret that he had almost told Brogan as they left the stables. 'Some spy I would have made then' he thought to himself. "He's just been teaching me some knife moves." Edwynn half-lied.
"Ha! He'll teach you whatever he thinks you'll want to see if it means you're the one shoveling the stables instead of him."
"Priestess Anetta says he used to be a spy." Myrista commented.
"Edwynn's gasp of shock was obscured by Brogan's loud guffaw. "A spy? You can't be serious."
"That's what she said." Myrista remarked. "She can read minds you know. It's a spell priests can learn in they have the talent for it."
"I don't think Jorik is a spy." Edwynn offered feebly.
"She's pulling a fast one on you Myrista. Probably trying to see how gullible you are. What else does she say."
"She told me to stay away from Drusilla LaSalle. Priestess Anetta said Drusilla uses dark magics and consorts with demons."
"The only person I've seen Dusilla consort with is Dane Winslow." Edwynn added, glad to steer the conversation away from Jorik and towards local gossip. He noticed that Brogan said nothing and that the sour look he wore when he came to the stable had returned.
"Priestess Anetta also didn't like those newcomers who arrived today."
"I saw them. A man and a woman." Edwynn chimed in. "She had the look of a sorceress about her. They were asking odd questions. They wanted to know if anyone had seen any strange new people around the valley. Or beasts for that matter."
"Beasts?" Myrista asked. "Were they hunters?"
"I doubt it. Their cloths were too fine and they didin't have any guns or bows on their horses."
"I can't image why anyone would come to Northshire." Brogan muttered and rubbed his forehead. "This valley is a festering dungheap. I can't wait to leave."
"Leave? You havn't even begun your training yet. What's gotten into you Brogan?" Myrista queried.
Edwynn added "Yeah, you've been about as fun as a night without dinner."
"I've got a headache, that's all." Brogan pulled his hand away from his forehead. Something in his voice made Edwynn think Brogan was lying.
"Would you like to come down to the manor?" Myrista asked. "Edwynn's aunt Claudette has a recipe for green tea that works wonders on headaches."
"No thanks. It just hurts a bit, that's all."
"Here, let me take care of it." Myrista stopped walking and began a chant. Brogan started to protest, but the spell was a simple one, and the acolyte was suddenly engulfed in a soft yellow glow. Edwynn watched as Brogan physically relaxed, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his breathing eased. He actually smiled for a moment before the effect wore off.
"Feeling better?" Myrista asked.
"Yes… No. Not really. The pain is gone, but… Myrista I need to ask you something." Brogan looked at her and Edwynn saw that he was wrestling with some burning desire. Suddenly Edwynn's mind clicked and he Brogan's mood suddenly made sense to him.
"Listen, if you want me to leave you two alone, I can go on ahead."
The words had barely left his mouth when Edwynn realizes he's made a mistake. Myrista was the first to comprehend what he was implying. She blushed crimson but said nothing. Brogan seemed completely lost until he saw the girl's embarrassment. Then his expression shifted instantly to anger.
"I'm not sweet on her you idiot! It's a question about her father!"
The change in Myrista could not have been greater. Her crimson cheeks drained of all color, and her sympathetic eyes hardened to a cold glare. Edwynn swallowed and took a step away from them both. No one talked about Nathaniel, Myrista's father. At least, not in her presence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. It was Edwynn's fault really. I wouldn't have said anything if he hadn't…." Brogan stopped when he saw that apologizing would gain him nothing. Instead he sighed and started over. "Look Myrista. I just need to know if it's true. What they say about him. About the way he was acting before he disappeared."
If Myrista had been any other girl, Edwynn would have expected her to burst into tears and run home, or knock Brogan flat on his back with a swift punch. Instead she simply stood there, her pale skin a seemingly impossible shade of white. Her lips pressed flat and her eyes unflinching.
"My father was a good man Brogan. He left for his own reasons and that is all there is to say about it."
"So what they say isn't true?" Brogan asked. "That he was hearing voices? That he was talking to himself? That he…"
"Was insane?" Myrista's finished the sentence for him. Her voice was empty of all emotion. "I don't care what rumors you've heard Brogan. Rumors that father went mad. Rumors that he vanished in the dead of night, with no one seeing or hearing a thing. That he abandoned me years ago, and that no one had heard from him or my uncle in the Plaguelands for months? Rumors that I'm the only one of my family left at the manor, and that we're almost out of money? That the tax men will be throwing us out before the winter? Well I don't care what you've heard Brogan. My uncle isn't dead on some nameless battlefield somewhere. And my father is alive. He's sane. He's a good man, and he's coming home…soon. I hope I've satisfied your curiosity. Now please leave Brogan."
"I'm sorry, it's not like that." Brogan began "I just…"
"Leave! Now!" Myrista's icy façade started to crack. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes shown with wetness.
Brogan was too embarrassed to say anything. He hitched up his schoolbag and continuted south along the road. After nearly a minute he rounded a bend, leaving Edwynn and Myrista alone.
"Go on ahead." Myrista said quietly. "I'd like to be alone.."
"My uncle wouldn't like that. I supposed to walk you home."
"Please Edwynn. Just go."
The young man bit his lower lip, then turned and followed Brogan south. He pretended he didn't hear her crying behind him.