Booke
(Set 2 years after Fyre, Septimus and Jenna are both 16 nearly 17. Simon is 24, Silas is 46)
By DarkeMagyk
(Angie Sage is the original author, I'm just a person that tries to write good fanfictions)
Prologue
(638 years ago)
The Manuscriptorium was dimly lit and the cloudy afternoon was closing into night. The shutters banged a few times as the wind howled mournfully outside.
"Ron, could you please close the windows?" The Chief Hermetic Scribe asked one of the senior staff who was writing copies of different Charms for an Ordinary Wizard.
Ron put his pen down and heaved himself out of his chair, grateful for all chance to stretch his legs.
"I'd be glad to, can hardly think with all that noise," he replied, grinning. He walked over to the window that looked out onto the Wizard Way and peered outside, flinching as a torrent of dusty wind slapped him in the face. He reached up and grabbed hold of the window ledge, pulling with all of the strength his 17 year old muscles could muster, which was quite a fair bit. With a long, loud groan, accompanied by the shrieking of the wind, Ron managed to close the window, putting a lock on it just in case.
He stared at the Wizard Tower was demanding respect and attention on the Wizard Way, it's beautiful blue and purple lights being turned on in each room as it neared the end of the day. Ron started as he saw a black figure flicker across the Wizard Way, heading straight for the Manuscriptorium.
"Hey Clarence, we have a visitor," Ron said somewhat uncertainly to the Chief Hermetic Scribe, unconsciously running his fingers through his chocolate brown hair.
"Let them in and say that we close in five minutes," Clarence said, not looking up from where he was translating some infuriatingly difficult ancient text.
"Okay," Ron said swallowing thickly as he saw the dark clothed figure stop outside the door, a strange pointy lump protruding from his cloak.
Ron was opening the door before the man had chance to ring the bell.
Stepping said, Ron mumbled nervously, "Hello, what can I do for you?"
The dark figure looked at him for a long moment, and then noticed he was making the young scribe feel uncomfortable. Hastily the man thrust out his hand, which was callused and worn from hard work.
"You works here? Yes?" The man asked, his voice heavily accented. Ron nodded.
"You…have a room full of…Wild Books? Yes?" The man asked, frowning from the concentration it had took to form that one sentence. Again, Ron nodded, and embarrassingly, he could feel the eyes of all the other 20 scribes looking at him.
"You mean the Wild Book Store?", Ron blurted out, immediately wishing he hadn't. From within the folds of his dark cloak, the man pulled out two books that were bucking and buzzing. Both of which had worn leather covers, except one had onyx corners and clasp, and the other gold. The title of the book with onyx cornes read; Darke Hexes and Forbidden Magyk and the gold book said The Defeater Of Spells: Remedies.
The man handed the Bound Books to Ron, which were surprisingly heavy.
". . .Safe until I return" The man said before reaching into his cloak and pressing a heavy, foreign gold coin into Ron's palm and turning around, walking out the door and into the early night.
The last Ron saw of him was the sight of the man's ragged black cloak disappear into blackness. Leaving him with two ancient, powerful books in the scribe's hands.