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Story Hour
Bitterness Overcome: (Now A Completed Story!)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nonlethal Force" data-source="post: 2813851" data-attributes="member: 35788"><p>Semeion was unsure where to turn once he arrived back in Reignsburg. He knew his way back through the city well enough, but internally his emotions pulled him in vastly different directions. He consciously knew that it would be required of his honor to speak to the family of his master. They would need to know fairly quickly that Richard would not be returning to their home. </p><p></p><p>He found the street through the city that would eventually lead him back to the home and his master’s workshop. Yet, as the turned to follow the avenue a great sense of fear welled up inside of him. His mind coursed with the various ways in which to tell the now widow of her husband’s death. He visualized the pain and sorrow that he would bring upon the family. Semeion shook his head from side to side to clear the thoughts, not realizing he stood in the middle of the street while doing so.</p><p></p><p>A cry came forth drawing Semeion back to reality. <span style="color: Lime">“Watch out, lad!”</span> As the warning burrowed deep into Semeion’s mind in order to overcome the distant world to which his thoughts had taken him a carriage driver swerved to avoid trampling Semeion while he stood in the middle of the street. Semeion turned to apologize to the carriage driver only to realize that another oncoming carriage had to swerve to miss the first carriage. As this carriage swerved a passing rider on horseback jerked hard on his reigns to turn the horse away from the near carriage accident. Semeion saw the horse turn so that he was directly into the path of the horse. From the body language of the rider Semeion knew the rider did not see him standing in the street.</p><p></p><p>One driver cursed at the other driver. <span style="color: Lime">“Watch where you are going, you tottery old fool!”</span> </p><p></p><p>The second driver spun around to reply to the insult of the first driver once he was sure the carriage would not topple over on account of the sudden swerve. <span style="color: Lime">“Don’t curse me, you diaper-wearing child! I’ve driven carriage for more years than you’ve been alive!”</span></p><p></p><p>People walking along the side of the street began to yell and gasp as Semeion was nearly crushed by the first carriage and was on the verge of being trampled by the unsuspecting horse. The rider of the threatening horse lifted his hand in the form of a fist and began to shake it at the second driver. It appeared as though the rider had no clue Semeion was standing in his hose's path.</p><p></p><p>Semeion shouted in self-defense with his left arm outstretched toward the horse. <span style="color: Plum">“Garidzomanai!”</span> The fingers on his hand spread open wide as if he intended to catch the horse’s flared nostrils in the palm of his hand. Instinctually, his right hand flashed inside the small pouch he carried on his belt and the fingers of his right hand found the piece of wool they searched for. With a quick stroke his fingers rubbed the wool a single time as he spoke and a brilliant spark leapt of each of Semeion’s fingers. The sparks merged together in the air and jumped the few feet of distance between his fingers and the horse’s head. The sparks shot straight for the horse’s nose and landed with a bright, pressure free explosion. </p><p></p><p>The brilliant light flashed before the horse’s eyes, startling the horse and causing it to rear back onto its hind legs. Semeion crouched low to the ground out of a simple instinct to avoid being kicked in the face by the rearing horse. The rider, who at this point was only controlling the horse with his knees and a single hand, was caught off guard as his eyes and shaking fist were on the swerving carriages. </p><p></p><p>A startled cry from the rider rang out as the rearing of the horse caused him to lose his balance in the saddle. The crash of metal armor hitting the cobblestone street rang up and down the street as the crashing sound bounced off of the various brick faced storefronts that lined the street. As the swerving carriages passed by Semeion and the rider of the horse fell to the ground, the rest of the traffic on the street came to a halt until the commotion was resolved. A few of the passer-bys on the sides of the street all stopped and looked on in curiosity. </p><p></p><p>Quickly these passer-bys began to mumble and pointed fingers of blame. A passing dwarf pointed an accusatory finger in Semeion’s direction and exclaimed, <span style="color: Lime">“The lad should not be in the street!”</span> Another onlooker corrected the dwarf by saying, <span style="color: Lime">“The boy was protecting himself from the horse!”</span> A third person yelled, <span style="color: Lime">“That first carriage was driving far too fast for such a busy street of commerce. These carriage drivers now days have no respect for the pedestrians anyway!”</span> Before too long, groups of dissent and discussion broke out along the fringe of the accident scene. Soon everyone was arguing with one another and the majority of them were yelling in Semeion’s direction. </p><p></p><p>The once pupil now turned mage rose from his crouched position and saw the dazed horse standing a mere foot away from his location. Semeion saw the rider completely for the first time and realized that he was dressed in chain armor. The weight of the chain made it hard to rise up off of the ground without help. The rider struggled to roll himself off of his back and up onto his knees from which position he would be able to stand easier. Semeion stepped toward the rider in order to help but was too late.</p><p></p><p>A separate group of onlookers had also focused on the armored rider fall to the ground. Once the commotion settled and the traffic was stopped they rush over to help lift the rider up from his back. <span style="color: Lime">“We’ll help you up, sir, just stay still and give us a hand. We’ll get you to your feet and up on your horse before you can do it yourself in that armor! Do you have a name, sir?”</span></p><p></p><p>Unable to help and knowing that his inner turmoil was the cause of the scene, Semeion suddenly added embarrassment to the list of emotions coursing through his body. Rather than stick around, he pulled his gray cloak tightly around him and turned to pass down the street in the opposite direction of his master’s home. His feet shuffled quickly, especially when it was necessary to try and push his way through the crowd that had gathered. Most of the crowd resisted his pushing and tried to grab hold of him to retain him so that the horseback rider could deal with him. Fortunately, Semeion was not a large man and evaded most of their attempts to grab hold of him.</p><p></p><p>Semeion shouted at anyone who did manage to hold onto him for more than a second. <span style="color: Plum">“Let me go, I must leave! You’ve no idea what is wrong, just leave me alone!”</span></p><p></p><p>Eventually Semeion broke free of the crowd and charged down the street in a full panicked run. He knew he hadn’t committed any illegal acts, but the embarrassment at the hands of the people was more than he could bear so close to the loss of his master. This was now twice he was unable to avoid the circumstances that life brought his way and the world seemed to be conspiring against him. </p><p></p><p>The crowd pointed and heckled him as he began to leave, shouting to the rider on the horse that he was fleeing the scene. As the ones around Semeion heckled him, the people rushing to help the rider had managed to get him onto his feet. His well trained horse had not left the rider’s side throughout the entire incident.</p><p></p><p>The rider stepped up into the stirrups and lifted himself into the saddle of his horse. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Good girl, Elistra. It’s alright.”</span> The rider spoke softly into the horse’s ears as he turned his body back and forth in order to use his height in the saddle to scan over the crowd. He lifted the visor of his helm to reveal a smiling human face. His face was covered in a well-trimmed moustache and beard. He laughed as he saw Semeion’s gray cloak running down the street. As the cloak flapped in the wind, the rider added, <span style="color: LightBlue">“No worries, friends. Many thanks for the assistance. I think our friend has experienced enough punishment through his own embarrassment. Let him go. You have my word that no damage was done. If anyone should ask, tell them to seek out Ischarus and I'll reassure then that no damage was done.”</span></p><p></p><p>The mood of the crowd instantly turned from arguing to cheering at the humor and honor displayed by the fallen rider. He was obviously naturally gifted at leading people and used his charismatic personality well to his advantage. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Now, if you don’t mind. Shall we go back to the sides of the streets where we all belong so that we can let the carriages and wagons pass along the streets as they are supposed to be able to do? They have been quite patient so far, and seeing as how nobody is hurt I see no reason to keep traffic from moving along any further.”</span></p><p></p><p>The crowd slowly dispersed and traffic began to move along the street as normal. From the saddle, the rider encouraged his horse Elistra to walk for a bit to ensure that she had managed to calm herself down from the excitement and the near trampling of Semeion. After walking a bit, the rider settled the horse into a nice trot and the horse clopped its way down the rest of the street.</p><p></p><p>Semeion, on the other hand, continued to run. He ran hard for three blocks straight down the street and then turned to the left. As he ran, he could feel his emotions coming to a head. Anger built up inside of him and he began to feel his body handling the internal struggle better. The more he ran the more focused his anger became. After turning left he ran for a couple of more block before settling into a solid pace. Not knowing where to go he began running around a few of the city blocks. He sputtered nearly unintelligible words while he ran in a zigzag pattern; his thoughts racing far faster than his lips could keep up. After circling a route of several blocks nearly a dozen times Semeion stopped and bent over to rest his hands on his knees. He sucked heavily upon the air around him; his heart pounded hard in his chest. <span style="color: Plum">“I must go home, first,”</span> Semeion stated out loud. It was the first expression that he had spoken which made sense since he broke free of the crowd. <span style="color: Plum">“I must find out what good it is to study the power of the wind if I am unable to change the fate of the events around me!”</span></p><p></p><p>He walked with a brisk pace over the several city blocks that led him back to his apartment. He ascended the single flight of steps and entered into his small home. The young mage quickly found the pack that he used to carry significant items to his training sessions at his master’s house. Rummaging around in the inside he removed two yellow candles.</p><p></p><p>He lit one of the candles and placed it on a low table. Semeion lowered himself so that he sat with his legs crossed before the candle and said, <span style="color: Plum">“These candles were your gift of peace to me, Master. You know that the wind and the air fascinate me and both the wind and the air are necessary for the flickering of the flame. Now that you have shown me an even greater expression of the power of the air and the wind around us, I can release these gifts into other service. I shall always treasure candles as a remembrance of your life.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion paused in mediation for the entire length of time that the candle took to burn to the table. Many hours passed by as Semeion forced his mind to meditate on his growing power, the life he and his master had together, and the path that stretched out before him. Once the candle had burned all but the smallest remnant of the wax and thus extinguished itself from lack of fuel, Semeion rose and bowed to the table. <span style="color: Plum">“I will take my revenge on that dragon. But in order for me to do so I will need to move beyond this pain. That process alone will teach me a great deal of life, and it would seem that you, my master, continue to guide me even in your death. I shall not forget you.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion placed the remaining candle back into the pack, gathered up several sticks of incense, and slung the pack over his right shoulder. He checked one final time to make sure the other candle was extinguished and left his apartment, descending the steps three at a time as if to say he was in a hurry.</p><p></p><p>Once Semeion arrived in the fresh open air he realized just how long his meditation must have lasted. The sun was already well into its rest and the moon had taken its place as the guardian of the sky. He looked up and greeted the moon. <span style="color: Plum">“Now is your time, the time for astronomy and secret knowledge. Guide my footsteps as I tread by your light.”</span></p><p></p><p>His journey was quick as he walked by a rote path. He had eagerly walked these steps day in and day out for the past several years. Semeion traversed this path so often that he practically knew each lose stone in the road and stepped lightly so as to avoid turning an ankle under the soft light of the moon. Before too long he arrived at his destination. </p><p></p><p>The house was quiet with only a single light on in the entire dwelling. His master’s workshop was even more dark and still. He paused for a moment as he collected his emotions before proceeding further. He bowed his head in reverence at his master’s workshop and shed another single tear over the loss of Richard Sathwright, wielder of the arcane forces. Semeion lightly bit into his lower lip and turned back to face the house. Slowly he approached and lightly knocked on the door. He heard movement inside.</p><p></p><p>His master’s wife quickly cracked the door open, wondering who would be disturbing her at this time of the night. She smiled when she saw Semeion’s face.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">“Semeion! I had feared the worst when you did not return last night. Where is Richard?”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion could not find the words in his heart to speak plainly. Several moments of silence passed between Semeion and the woman on the other side of the doorway.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">“Semeion, what has happened?”</span> The woman’s voice grew cold as the silence continued.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Plum">“He … Master Sathwright … is dead.”</span> Semeion replied. The words mentally forced out of a mouth that resisted every syllable. Semeion swallowed hard and closed his eyes in a long blink in order to hold back the tears.</p><p></p><p>The woman on the other side of the doorway did not hold back her tears at all. Instantly her eyes watered and it seemed like streams had sprouted down her cheeks. Her shirt developed wet circles where her tears would collect on her chin and fall down to the cloth below. <span style="color: Lime">“Semeion, come in and tell me that you have told me a lie.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion shook his head slowly from side to side. <span style="color: Plum">“I cannot do that, ma’am. I will come in and offer a story and give you a gift of my mourning, but I cannot tell you that it is a lie.”</span></p><p></p><p>The woman cried out once in pain. The tears continued to pour down from her face as she turned her back on the door and buried her face in her palms. Semeion opened the door the rest of the way and let himself in. He quietly closed the door behind him and touched the woman’s elbow. <span style="color: Plum">“Channah, please sit. It will be easier to bear if you sit.”</span></p><p></p><p>The woman responded to Semeion and sobbed as Semeion guided her to a nearby chair. He sat beside her for nearly 20 minutes while Channah sobbed in anger and mourning. Eventually her tears began to subside and her breathing slowed and became much shallower.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">“Tell me how it happened, Semeion. I do not want to know, but you must tell me.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded in agreement. <span style="color: Plum">“He died trying to bring me to an understanding of my own freedom, Channah. He led me to his place of meditation to show me wind blowing along the trees.”</span></p><p></p><p>Channah smiled as the tears continued to run down her face. <span style="color: Lime">“I know the place well. He went there often. Sometimes he used to take me with him before the children were born. It is a beautiful place.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion smiled and nodded. <span style="color: Plum">“A considerable dragon of the forest stalked us and came upon me suddenly. Your husband, my master, rushed forward to turn me invisible so that I could flee from the dragon’s presence. Unfortunately as he drew too close to the dragon he was enveloped in the evil darkness. He struggled with what magic he had to offer, but the dragon bested him. I am sorry for not coming to you earlier, but I myself was frozen in pain and horror until this morning. It has been a long journey for me to even return back to Reignsburg and especially to bring myself to your door.”</span></p><p></p><p>Channah smiled. <span style="color: Lime">“You were his star, Semeion. He would have easily died for any of his family and for you. You had become like a son for him. It pained him to think about having you leave.”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Plum">“I would have gladly stayed, ma’am. But I now know he was right. It was time for me to go onto my own. If only I could have admitted that earlier.”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">“No, Semeion.”</span> Channah replied. <span style="color: Lime">“Richard would have taken you there anyway. It was how he planed his farewell to you – so you could see the demonstration of the wind across the tops of the trees.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion looked to the floor and remembered the pack he had brought. He opened up the pack and lifted several sticks of incense along with the yellow candle. <span style="color: Plum">“Your husband gave me these sticks of incense and asked me to give them to you to burn should he ever die during one of our journeys. I promised him that I would fulfill that request should it come to pass. The candle was a gift from him to me to remind me that the air and the wind are always around even though we cannot see them. I have already burned one in his honor as I mourned for him. I give the other so that you might do the same and make his honor and my mourning complete.”</span></p><p></p><p>Channah accepted the incense and the candles and laid them solemnly on her lap. She lifted her eyes to Semeion. <span style="color: Lime">“I thank you, and now I must really ask a hard favor of you.”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Plum">“Anything, Channah. You have treated me like your own son,”</span> Semeion replied, looking earnestly into the eyes of his master's wife.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">“I ask you to leave me alone for the night. I must mourn in my own way and bring myself to tell the children in the morning. But I ask that you return as often as you can so that together we may keep his memory alive.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion opened his mouth to speak but Channah stopped him with a simple gesture with her hand. <span style="color: Lime">“We will burn the incense of mourning together when you return.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion paused this time, making sure that Channah was done speaking. <span style="color: Plum">“I will honor you with that, Channah. I will return tomorrow once the sun has given way to the moon once more. Then we will mourn together.”</span></p><p></p><p>Channah rose and extended a hand outward to embrace Semeion. She breathed in deeply, choking back the tears for just a little more. The two embraced in a long hug and then Channah stepped to her toes and kissed Semeion on the forehead. <span style="color: Lime">“Go with Richard’s peace, Semeion. Honor him with your life.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion wanted to reply, but he simply nodded and let the honor of having the last word of blessing fall to Channah. He smiled, though his lips betrayed that they were filled with painful emotion. Channah embraced him once more in a hug as Semeion headed for the door. The woman waited in silence for Semeion to step outside and off the porch. As Semeion turned toward the house once more from the road, Channah smiled and closed the door. Just before the door closed, Semeion could see that she had begun to cry again. She would mourn for her husband for a long time.</p><p></p><p>Semeion breathed deeply. He needed a drink.</p><p></p><p>[Sblock=Color Free Speech Section]</p><p>Semeion was unsure where to turn once he arrived back in Reignsburg. He knew his way back through the city well enough, but internally his emotions pulled him in vastly different directions. He consciously knew that it would be required of his honor to speak to the family of his master. They would need to know fairly quickly that Richard would not be returning to their home. </p><p></p><p>He found the street through the city that would eventually lead him back to the home and his master’s workshop. Yet, as the turned to follow the avenue a great sense of fear welled up inside of him. His mind coursed with the various ways in which to tell the now widow of her husband’s death. He visualized the pain and sorrow that he would bring upon the family. Semeion shook his head from side to side to clear the thoughts, not realizing he stood in the middle of the street while doing so.</p><p></p><p>A cry came forth drawing Semeion back to reality. “Watch out, lad!” As the warning burrowed deep into Semeion’s mind in order to overcome the distant world to which his thoughts had taken him a carriage driver swerved to avoid trampling Semeion while he stood in the middle of the street. Semeion turned to apologize to the carriage driver only to realize that another oncoming carriage had to swerve to miss the first carriage. As this carriage swerved a passing rider on horseback jerked hard on his reigns to turn the horse away from the near carriage accident. Semeion saw the horse turn so that he was directly into the path of the horse. From the body language of the rider Semeion knew the rider did not see him standing in the street.</p><p></p><p>One driver cursed at the other driver. “Watch where you are going, you tottery old fool!” </p><p></p><p>The second driver spun around to reply to the insult of the first driver once he was sure the carriage would not topple over on account of the sudden swerve. “Don’t curse me, you diaper-wearing child! I’ve driven carriage for more years than you’ve been alive!”</p><p></p><p>People walking along the side of the street began to yell and gasp as Semeion was nearly crushed by the first carriage and was on the verge of being trampled by the unsuspecting horse. The rider of the threatening horse lifted his hand in the form of a fist and began to shake it at the second driver. It appeared as though the rider had no clue Semeion was standing in his hose's path.</p><p></p><p>Semeion shouted in self-defense with his left arm outstretched toward the horse. “Garidzomanai!” The fingers on his hand spread open wide as if he intended to catch the horse’s flared nostrils in the palm of his hand. Instinctually, his right hand flashed inside the small pouch he carried on his belt and the fingers of his right hand found the piece of wool they searched for. With a quick stroke his fingers rubbed the wool a single time as he spoke and a brilliant spark leapt of each of Semeion’s fingers. The sparks merged together in the air and jumped the few feet of distance between his fingers and the horse’s head. The sparks shot straight for the horse’s nose and landed with a bright, pressure free explosion. </p><p></p><p>The brilliant light flashed before the horse’s eyes, startling the horse and causing it to rear back onto its hind legs. Semeion crouched low to the ground out of a simple instinct to avoid being kicked in the face by the rearing horse. The rider, who at this point was only controlling the horse with his knees and a single hand, was caught off guard as his eyes and shaking fist were on the swerving carriages. </p><p></p><p>A startled cry from the rider rang out as the rearing of the horse caused him to lose his balance in the saddle. The crash of metal armor hitting the cobblestone street rang up and down the street as the crashing sound bounced off of the various brick faced storefronts that lined the street. As the swerving carriages passed by Semeion and the rider of the horse fell to the ground, the rest of the traffic on the street came to a halt until the commotion was resolved. A few of the passer-bys on the sides of the street all stopped and looked on in curiosity. </p><p></p><p>Quickly these passer-bys began to mumble and pointed fingers of blame. A passing dwarf pointed an accusatory finger in Semeion’s direction and exclaimed, “The lad should not be in the street!” Another onlooker corrected the dwarf by saying, “The boy was protecting himself from the horse!” A third person yelled, “That first carriage was driving far too fast for such a busy street of commerce. These carriage drivers now days have no respect for the pedestrians anyway!” Before too long, groups of dissent and discussion broke out along the fringe of the accident scene. Soon everyone was arguing with one another and the majority of them were yelling in Semeion’s direction. </p><p></p><p>The once pupil now turned mage rose from his crouched position and saw the dazed horse standing a mere foot away from his location. Semeion saw the rider completely for the first time and realized that he was dressed in chain armor. The weight of the chain made it hard to rise up off of the ground without help. The rider struggled to roll himself off of his back and up onto his knees from which position he would be able to stand easier. Semeion stepped toward the rider in order to help but was too late.</p><p></p><p>A separate group of onlookers had also focused on the armored rider fall to the ground. Once the commotion settled and the traffic was stopped they rush over to help lift the rider up from his back. “We’ll help you up, sir, just stay still and give us a hand. We’ll get you to your feet and up on your horse before you can do it yourself in that armor! Do you have a name, sir?”</p><p></p><p>Unable to help and knowing that his inner turmoil was the cause of the scene, Semeion suddenly added embarrassment to the list of emotions coursing through his body. Rather than stick around, he pulled his gray cloak tightly around him and turned to pass down the street in the opposite direction of his master’s home. His feet shuffled quickly, especially when it was necessary to try and push his way through the crowd that had gathered. Most of the crowd resisted his pushing and tried to grab hold of him to retain him so that the horseback rider could deal with him. Fortunately, Semeion was not a large man and evaded most of their attempts to grab hold of him.</p><p></p><p>Semeion shouted at anyone who did manage to hold onto him for more than a second. “Let me go, I must leave! You’ve no idea what is wrong, just leave me alone!”</p><p></p><p>Eventually Semeion broke free of the crowd and charged down the street in a full panicked run. He knew he hadn’t committed any illegal acts, but the embarrassment at the hands of the people was more than he could bear so close to the loss of his master. This was now twice he was unable to avoid the circumstances that life brought his way and the world seemed to be conspiring against him. </p><p></p><p>The crowd pointed and heckled him as he began to leave, shouting to the rider on the horse that he was fleeing the scene. As the ones around Semeion heckled him, the people rushing to help the rider had managed to get him onto his feet. His well trained horse had not left the rider’s side throughout the entire incident.</p><p></p><p>The rider stepped up into the stirrups and lifted himself into the saddle of his horse. “Good girl, Elistra. It’s alright.” The rider spoke softly into the horse’s ears as he turned his body back and forth in order to use his height in the saddle to scan over the crowd. He lifted the visor of his helm to reveal a smiling human face. His face was covered in a well-trimmed moustache and beard. He laughed as he saw Semeion’s gray cloak running down the street. As the cloak flapped in the wind, the rider added, “No worries, friends. Many thanks for the assistance. I think our friend has experienced enough punishment through his own embarrassment. Let him go. You have my word that no damage was done. If anyone should ask, tell them to seek out Ischarus and I'll reassure then that no damage was done.”</p><p></p><p>The mood of the crowd instantly turned from arguing to cheering at the humor and honor displayed by the fallen rider. He was obviously naturally gifted at leading people and used his charismatic personality well to his advantage. “Now, if you don’t mind. Shall we go back to the sides of the streets where we all belong so that we can let the carriages and wagons pass along the streets as they are supposed to be able to do? They have been quite patient so far, and seeing as how nobody is hurt I see no reason to keep traffic from moving along any further.”</p><p></p><p>The crowd slowly dispersed and traffic began to move along the street as normal. From the saddle, the rider encouraged his horse Elistra to walk for a bit to ensure that she had managed to calm herself down from the excitement and the near trampling of Semeion. After walking a bit, the rider settled the horse into a nice trot and the horse clopped its way down the rest of the street.</p><p></p><p>Semeion, on the other hand, continued to run. He ran hard for three blocks straight down the street and then turned to the left. As he ran, he could feel his emotions coming to a head. Anger built up inside of him and he began to feel his body handling the internal struggle better. The more he ran the more focused his anger became. After turning left he ran for a couple of more block before settling into a solid pace. Not knowing where to go he began running around a few of the city blocks. He sputtered nearly unintelligible words while he ran in a zigzag pattern; his thoughts racing far faster than his lips could keep up. After circling a route of several blocks nearly a dozen times Semeion stopped and bent over to rest his hands on his knees. He sucked heavily upon the air around him; his heart pounded hard in his chest. “I must go home, first,” Semeion stated out loud. It was the first expression that he had spoken which made sense since he broke free of the crowd. “I must find out what good it is to study the power of the wind if I am unable to change the fate of the events around me!”</p><p></p><p>He walked with a brisk pace over the several city blocks that led him back to his apartment. He ascended the single flight of steps and entered into his small home. The young mage quickly found the pack that he used to carry significant items to his training sessions at his master’s house. Rummaging around in the inside he removed two yellow candles.</p><p></p><p>He lit one of the candles and placed it on a low table. Semeion lowered himself so that he sat with his legs crossed before the candle and said, “These candles were your gift of peace to me, Master. You know that the wind and the air fascinate me and both the wind and the air are necessary for the flickering of the flame. Now that you have shown me an even greater expression of the power of the air and the wind around us, I can release these gifts into other service. I shall always treasure candles as a remembrance of your life.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion paused in mediation for the entire length of time that the candle took to burn to the table. Many hours passed by as Semeion forced his mind to meditate on his growing power, the life he and his master had together, and the path that stretched out before him. Once the candle had burned all but the smallest remnant of the wax and thus extinguished itself from lack of fuel, Semeion rose and bowed to the table. “I will take my revenge on that dragon. But in order for me to do so I will need to move beyond this pain. That process alone will teach me a great deal of life, and it would seem that you, my master, continue to guide me even in your death. I shall not forget you.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion placed the remaining candle back into the pack, gathered up several sticks of incense, and slung the pack over his right shoulder. He checked one final time to make sure the other candle was extinguished and left his apartment, descending the steps three at a time as if to say he was in a hurry.</p><p></p><p>Once Semeion arrived in the fresh open air he realized just how long his meditation must have lasted. The sun was already well into its rest and the moon had taken its place as the guardian of the sky. He looked up and greeted the moon. “Now is your time, the time for astronomy and secret knowledge. Guide my footsteps as I tread by your light.”</p><p></p><p>His journey was quick as he walked by a rote path. He had eagerly walked these steps day in and day out for the past several years. Semeion traversed this path so often that he practically knew each lose stone in the road and stepped lightly so as to avoid turning an ankle under the soft light of the moon. Before too long he arrived at his destination. </p><p></p><p>The house was quiet with only a single light on in the entire dwelling. His master’s workshop was even more dark and still. He paused for a moment as he collected his emotions before proceeding further. He bowed his head in reverence at his master’s workshop and shed another single tear over the loss of Richard Sathwright, wielder of the arcane forces. Semeion lightly bit into his lower lip and turned back to face the house. Slowly he approached and lightly knocked on the door. He heard movement inside.</p><p></p><p>His master’s wife quickly cracked the door open, wondering who would be disturbing her at this time of the night. She smiled when she saw Semeion’s face.</p><p></p><p>“Semeion! I had feared the worst when you did not return last night. Where is Richard?”</p><p></p><p>Semeion could not find the words in his heart to speak plainly. Several moments of silence passed between Semeion and the woman on the other side of the doorway.</p><p></p><p>“Semeion, what has happened?” The woman’s voice grew cold as the silence continued.</p><p></p><p>“He … Master Sathwright … is dead.” Semeion replied. The words mentally forced out of a mouth that resisted every syllable. Semeion swallowed hard and closed his eyes in a long blink in order to hold back the tears.</p><p></p><p>The woman on the other side of the doorway did not hold back her tears at all. Instantly her eyes watered and it seemed like streams had sprouted down her cheeks. Her shirt developed wet circles where her tears would collect on her chin and fall down to the cloth below. “Semeion, come in and tell me that you have told me a lie.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion shook his head slowly from side to side. “I cannot do that, ma’am. I will come in and offer a story and give you a gift of my mourning, but I cannot tell you that it is a lie.”</p><p></p><p>The woman cried out once in pain. The tears continued to pour down from her face as she turned her back on the door and buried her face in her palms. Semeion opened the door the rest of the way and let himself in. He quietly closed the door behind him and touched the woman’s elbow. “Channah, please sit. It will be easier to bear if you sit.”</p><p></p><p>The woman responded to Semeion and sobbed as Semeion guided her to a nearby chair. He sat beside her for nearly 20 minutes while Channah sobbed in anger and mourning. Eventually her tears began to subside and her breathing slowed and became much shallower.</p><p></p><p>“Tell me how it happened, Semeion. I do not want to know, but you must tell me.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded in agreement. “He died trying to bring me to an understanding of my own freedom, Channah. He led me to his place of meditation to show me wind blowing along the trees.”</p><p></p><p>Channah smiled as the tears continued to run down her face. “I know the place well. He went there often. Sometimes he used to take me with him before the children were born. It is a beautiful place.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion smiled and nodded. “A considerable dragon of the forest stalked us and came upon me suddenly. Your husband, my master, rushed forward to turn me invisible so that I could flee from the dragon’s presence. Unfortunately as he drew too close to the dragon he was enveloped in the evil darkness. He struggled with what magic he had to offer, but the dragon bested him. I am sorry for not coming to you earlier, but I myself was frozen in pain and horror until this morning. It has been a long journey for me to even return back to Reignsburg and especially to bring myself to your door.”</p><p></p><p>Channah smiled. “You were his star, Semeion. He would have easily died for any of his family and for you. You had become like a son for him. It pained him to think about having you leave.”</p><p></p><p>“I would have gladly stayed, ma’am. But I now know he was right. It was time for me to go onto my own. If only I could have admitted that earlier.”</p><p></p><p>“No, Semeion.” Channah replied. “Richard would have taken you there anyway. It was how he planed his farewell to you – so you could see the demonstration of the wind across the tops of the trees.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion looked to the floor and remembered the pack he had brought. He opened up the pack and lifted several sticks of incense along with the yellow candle. “Your husband gave me these sticks of incense and asked me to give them to you to burn should he ever die during one of our journeys. I promised him that I would fulfill that request should it come to pass. The candle was a gift from him to me to remind me that the air and the wind are always around even though we cannot see them. I have already burned one in his honor as I mourned for him. I give the other so that you might do the same and make his honor and my mourning complete.”</p><p></p><p>Channah accepted the incense and the candles and laid them solemnly on her lap. She lifted her eyes to Semeion. “I thank you, and now I must really ask a hard favor of you.”</p><p></p><p>“Anything, Channah. You have treated me like your own son,” Semeion replied, looking earnestly into the eyes of his master's wife.</p><p></p><p>“I ask you to leave me alone for the night. I must mourn in my own way and bring myself to tell the children in the morning. But I ask that you return as often as you can so that together we may keep his memory alive.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion opened his mouth to speak but Channah stopped him with a simple gesture with her hand. “We will burn the incense of mourning together when you return.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion paused this time, making sure that Channah was done speaking. “I will honor you with that, Channah. I will return tomorrow once the sun has given way to the moon once more. Then we will mourn together.”</p><p></p><p>Channah rose and extended a hand outward to embrace Semeion. She breathed in deeply, choking back the tears for just a little more. The two embraced in a long hug and then Channah stepped to her toes and kissed Semeion on the forehead. “Go with Richard’s peace, Semeion. Honor him with your life.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion wanted to reply, but he simply nodded and let the honor of having the last word of blessing fall to Channah. He smiled, though his lips betrayed that they were filled with painful emotion. Channah embraced him once more in a hug as Semeion headed for the door. The woman waited in silence for Semeion to step outside and off the porch. As Semeion turned toward the house once more from the road, Channah smiled and closed the door. Just before the door closed, Semeion could see that she had begun to cry again. She would mourn for her husband for a long time.</p><p></p><p>Semeion breathed deeply. He needed a drink.[/Sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nonlethal Force, post: 2813851, member: 35788"] Semeion was unsure where to turn once he arrived back in Reignsburg. He knew his way back through the city well enough, but internally his emotions pulled him in vastly different directions. He consciously knew that it would be required of his honor to speak to the family of his master. They would need to know fairly quickly that Richard would not be returning to their home. He found the street through the city that would eventually lead him back to the home and his master’s workshop. Yet, as the turned to follow the avenue a great sense of fear welled up inside of him. His mind coursed with the various ways in which to tell the now widow of her husband’s death. He visualized the pain and sorrow that he would bring upon the family. Semeion shook his head from side to side to clear the thoughts, not realizing he stood in the middle of the street while doing so. A cry came forth drawing Semeion back to reality. [Color=Lime]“Watch out, lad!”[/Color] As the warning burrowed deep into Semeion’s mind in order to overcome the distant world to which his thoughts had taken him a carriage driver swerved to avoid trampling Semeion while he stood in the middle of the street. Semeion turned to apologize to the carriage driver only to realize that another oncoming carriage had to swerve to miss the first carriage. As this carriage swerved a passing rider on horseback jerked hard on his reigns to turn the horse away from the near carriage accident. Semeion saw the horse turn so that he was directly into the path of the horse. From the body language of the rider Semeion knew the rider did not see him standing in the street. One driver cursed at the other driver. [Color=Lime]“Watch where you are going, you tottery old fool!”[/Color] The second driver spun around to reply to the insult of the first driver once he was sure the carriage would not topple over on account of the sudden swerve. [Color=Lime]“Don’t curse me, you diaper-wearing child! I’ve driven carriage for more years than you’ve been alive!”[/Color] People walking along the side of the street began to yell and gasp as Semeion was nearly crushed by the first carriage and was on the verge of being trampled by the unsuspecting horse. The rider of the threatening horse lifted his hand in the form of a fist and began to shake it at the second driver. It appeared as though the rider had no clue Semeion was standing in his hose's path. Semeion shouted in self-defense with his left arm outstretched toward the horse. [Color=Plum]“Garidzomanai!”[/Color] The fingers on his hand spread open wide as if he intended to catch the horse’s flared nostrils in the palm of his hand. Instinctually, his right hand flashed inside the small pouch he carried on his belt and the fingers of his right hand found the piece of wool they searched for. With a quick stroke his fingers rubbed the wool a single time as he spoke and a brilliant spark leapt of each of Semeion’s fingers. The sparks merged together in the air and jumped the few feet of distance between his fingers and the horse’s head. The sparks shot straight for the horse’s nose and landed with a bright, pressure free explosion. The brilliant light flashed before the horse’s eyes, startling the horse and causing it to rear back onto its hind legs. Semeion crouched low to the ground out of a simple instinct to avoid being kicked in the face by the rearing horse. The rider, who at this point was only controlling the horse with his knees and a single hand, was caught off guard as his eyes and shaking fist were on the swerving carriages. A startled cry from the rider rang out as the rearing of the horse caused him to lose his balance in the saddle. The crash of metal armor hitting the cobblestone street rang up and down the street as the crashing sound bounced off of the various brick faced storefronts that lined the street. As the swerving carriages passed by Semeion and the rider of the horse fell to the ground, the rest of the traffic on the street came to a halt until the commotion was resolved. A few of the passer-bys on the sides of the street all stopped and looked on in curiosity. Quickly these passer-bys began to mumble and pointed fingers of blame. A passing dwarf pointed an accusatory finger in Semeion’s direction and exclaimed, [Color=Lime]“The lad should not be in the street!”[/Color] Another onlooker corrected the dwarf by saying, [Color=Lime]“The boy was protecting himself from the horse!”[/Color] A third person yelled, [Color=Lime]“That first carriage was driving far too fast for such a busy street of commerce. These carriage drivers now days have no respect for the pedestrians anyway!”[/Color] Before too long, groups of dissent and discussion broke out along the fringe of the accident scene. Soon everyone was arguing with one another and the majority of them were yelling in Semeion’s direction. The once pupil now turned mage rose from his crouched position and saw the dazed horse standing a mere foot away from his location. Semeion saw the rider completely for the first time and realized that he was dressed in chain armor. The weight of the chain made it hard to rise up off of the ground without help. The rider struggled to roll himself off of his back and up onto his knees from which position he would be able to stand easier. Semeion stepped toward the rider in order to help but was too late. A separate group of onlookers had also focused on the armored rider fall to the ground. Once the commotion settled and the traffic was stopped they rush over to help lift the rider up from his back. [Color=Lime]“We’ll help you up, sir, just stay still and give us a hand. We’ll get you to your feet and up on your horse before you can do it yourself in that armor! Do you have a name, sir?”[/Color] Unable to help and knowing that his inner turmoil was the cause of the scene, Semeion suddenly added embarrassment to the list of emotions coursing through his body. Rather than stick around, he pulled his gray cloak tightly around him and turned to pass down the street in the opposite direction of his master’s home. His feet shuffled quickly, especially when it was necessary to try and push his way through the crowd that had gathered. Most of the crowd resisted his pushing and tried to grab hold of him to retain him so that the horseback rider could deal with him. Fortunately, Semeion was not a large man and evaded most of their attempts to grab hold of him. Semeion shouted at anyone who did manage to hold onto him for more than a second. [Color=Plum]“Let me go, I must leave! You’ve no idea what is wrong, just leave me alone!”[/Color] Eventually Semeion broke free of the crowd and charged down the street in a full panicked run. He knew he hadn’t committed any illegal acts, but the embarrassment at the hands of the people was more than he could bear so close to the loss of his master. This was now twice he was unable to avoid the circumstances that life brought his way and the world seemed to be conspiring against him. The crowd pointed and heckled him as he began to leave, shouting to the rider on the horse that he was fleeing the scene. As the ones around Semeion heckled him, the people rushing to help the rider had managed to get him onto his feet. His well trained horse had not left the rider’s side throughout the entire incident. The rider stepped up into the stirrups and lifted himself into the saddle of his horse. [Color=LightBlue]“Good girl, Elistra. It’s alright.”[/Color] The rider spoke softly into the horse’s ears as he turned his body back and forth in order to use his height in the saddle to scan over the crowd. He lifted the visor of his helm to reveal a smiling human face. His face was covered in a well-trimmed moustache and beard. He laughed as he saw Semeion’s gray cloak running down the street. As the cloak flapped in the wind, the rider added, [Color=LightBlue]“No worries, friends. Many thanks for the assistance. I think our friend has experienced enough punishment through his own embarrassment. Let him go. You have my word that no damage was done. If anyone should ask, tell them to seek out Ischarus and I'll reassure then that no damage was done.”[/Color] The mood of the crowd instantly turned from arguing to cheering at the humor and honor displayed by the fallen rider. He was obviously naturally gifted at leading people and used his charismatic personality well to his advantage. [Color=LightBlue]“Now, if you don’t mind. Shall we go back to the sides of the streets where we all belong so that we can let the carriages and wagons pass along the streets as they are supposed to be able to do? They have been quite patient so far, and seeing as how nobody is hurt I see no reason to keep traffic from moving along any further.”[/Color] The crowd slowly dispersed and traffic began to move along the street as normal. From the saddle, the rider encouraged his horse Elistra to walk for a bit to ensure that she had managed to calm herself down from the excitement and the near trampling of Semeion. After walking a bit, the rider settled the horse into a nice trot and the horse clopped its way down the rest of the street. Semeion, on the other hand, continued to run. He ran hard for three blocks straight down the street and then turned to the left. As he ran, he could feel his emotions coming to a head. Anger built up inside of him and he began to feel his body handling the internal struggle better. The more he ran the more focused his anger became. After turning left he ran for a couple of more block before settling into a solid pace. Not knowing where to go he began running around a few of the city blocks. He sputtered nearly unintelligible words while he ran in a zigzag pattern; his thoughts racing far faster than his lips could keep up. After circling a route of several blocks nearly a dozen times Semeion stopped and bent over to rest his hands on his knees. He sucked heavily upon the air around him; his heart pounded hard in his chest. [Color=Plum]“I must go home, first,”[/Color] Semeion stated out loud. It was the first expression that he had spoken which made sense since he broke free of the crowd. [Color=Plum]“I must find out what good it is to study the power of the wind if I am unable to change the fate of the events around me!”[/Color] He walked with a brisk pace over the several city blocks that led him back to his apartment. He ascended the single flight of steps and entered into his small home. The young mage quickly found the pack that he used to carry significant items to his training sessions at his master’s house. Rummaging around in the inside he removed two yellow candles. He lit one of the candles and placed it on a low table. Semeion lowered himself so that he sat with his legs crossed before the candle and said, [Color=Plum]“These candles were your gift of peace to me, Master. You know that the wind and the air fascinate me and both the wind and the air are necessary for the flickering of the flame. Now that you have shown me an even greater expression of the power of the air and the wind around us, I can release these gifts into other service. I shall always treasure candles as a remembrance of your life.”[/Color] Semeion paused in mediation for the entire length of time that the candle took to burn to the table. Many hours passed by as Semeion forced his mind to meditate on his growing power, the life he and his master had together, and the path that stretched out before him. Once the candle had burned all but the smallest remnant of the wax and thus extinguished itself from lack of fuel, Semeion rose and bowed to the table. [Color=Plum]“I will take my revenge on that dragon. But in order for me to do so I will need to move beyond this pain. That process alone will teach me a great deal of life, and it would seem that you, my master, continue to guide me even in your death. I shall not forget you.”[/Color] Semeion placed the remaining candle back into the pack, gathered up several sticks of incense, and slung the pack over his right shoulder. He checked one final time to make sure the other candle was extinguished and left his apartment, descending the steps three at a time as if to say he was in a hurry. Once Semeion arrived in the fresh open air he realized just how long his meditation must have lasted. The sun was already well into its rest and the moon had taken its place as the guardian of the sky. He looked up and greeted the moon. [Color=Plum]“Now is your time, the time for astronomy and secret knowledge. Guide my footsteps as I tread by your light.”[/Color] His journey was quick as he walked by a rote path. He had eagerly walked these steps day in and day out for the past several years. Semeion traversed this path so often that he practically knew each lose stone in the road and stepped lightly so as to avoid turning an ankle under the soft light of the moon. Before too long he arrived at his destination. The house was quiet with only a single light on in the entire dwelling. His master’s workshop was even more dark and still. He paused for a moment as he collected his emotions before proceeding further. He bowed his head in reverence at his master’s workshop and shed another single tear over the loss of Richard Sathwright, wielder of the arcane forces. Semeion lightly bit into his lower lip and turned back to face the house. Slowly he approached and lightly knocked on the door. He heard movement inside. His master’s wife quickly cracked the door open, wondering who would be disturbing her at this time of the night. She smiled when she saw Semeion’s face. [Color=Lime]“Semeion! I had feared the worst when you did not return last night. Where is Richard?”[/Color] Semeion could not find the words in his heart to speak plainly. Several moments of silence passed between Semeion and the woman on the other side of the doorway. [Color=Lime]“Semeion, what has happened?”[/Color] The woman’s voice grew cold as the silence continued. [Color=Plum]“He … Master Sathwright … is dead.”[/Color] Semeion replied. The words mentally forced out of a mouth that resisted every syllable. Semeion swallowed hard and closed his eyes in a long blink in order to hold back the tears. The woman on the other side of the doorway did not hold back her tears at all. Instantly her eyes watered and it seemed like streams had sprouted down her cheeks. Her shirt developed wet circles where her tears would collect on her chin and fall down to the cloth below. [Color=Lime]“Semeion, come in and tell me that you have told me a lie.”[/Color] Semeion shook his head slowly from side to side. [Color=Plum]“I cannot do that, ma’am. I will come in and offer a story and give you a gift of my mourning, but I cannot tell you that it is a lie.”[/Color] The woman cried out once in pain. The tears continued to pour down from her face as she turned her back on the door and buried her face in her palms. Semeion opened the door the rest of the way and let himself in. He quietly closed the door behind him and touched the woman’s elbow. [Color=Plum]“Channah, please sit. It will be easier to bear if you sit.”[/Color] The woman responded to Semeion and sobbed as Semeion guided her to a nearby chair. He sat beside her for nearly 20 minutes while Channah sobbed in anger and mourning. Eventually her tears began to subside and her breathing slowed and became much shallower. [Color=Lime]“Tell me how it happened, Semeion. I do not want to know, but you must tell me.”[/Color] Semeion nodded in agreement. [Color=Plum]“He died trying to bring me to an understanding of my own freedom, Channah. He led me to his place of meditation to show me wind blowing along the trees.”[/Color] Channah smiled as the tears continued to run down her face. [Color=Lime]“I know the place well. He went there often. Sometimes he used to take me with him before the children were born. It is a beautiful place.”[/Color] Semeion smiled and nodded. [Color=Plum]“A considerable dragon of the forest stalked us and came upon me suddenly. Your husband, my master, rushed forward to turn me invisible so that I could flee from the dragon’s presence. Unfortunately as he drew too close to the dragon he was enveloped in the evil darkness. He struggled with what magic he had to offer, but the dragon bested him. I am sorry for not coming to you earlier, but I myself was frozen in pain and horror until this morning. It has been a long journey for me to even return back to Reignsburg and especially to bring myself to your door.”[/Color] Channah smiled. [Color=Lime]“You were his star, Semeion. He would have easily died for any of his family and for you. You had become like a son for him. It pained him to think about having you leave.”[/Color] [Color=Plum]“I would have gladly stayed, ma’am. But I now know he was right. It was time for me to go onto my own. If only I could have admitted that earlier.”[/Color] [Color=Lime]“No, Semeion.”[/Color] Channah replied. [Color=Lime]“Richard would have taken you there anyway. It was how he planed his farewell to you – so you could see the demonstration of the wind across the tops of the trees.”[/Color] Semeion looked to the floor and remembered the pack he had brought. He opened up the pack and lifted several sticks of incense along with the yellow candle. [Color=Plum]“Your husband gave me these sticks of incense and asked me to give them to you to burn should he ever die during one of our journeys. I promised him that I would fulfill that request should it come to pass. The candle was a gift from him to me to remind me that the air and the wind are always around even though we cannot see them. I have already burned one in his honor as I mourned for him. I give the other so that you might do the same and make his honor and my mourning complete.”[/Color] Channah accepted the incense and the candles and laid them solemnly on her lap. She lifted her eyes to Semeion. [Color=Lime]“I thank you, and now I must really ask a hard favor of you.”[/Color] [Color=Plum]“Anything, Channah. You have treated me like your own son,”[/Color] Semeion replied, looking earnestly into the eyes of his master's wife. [Color=Lime]“I ask you to leave me alone for the night. I must mourn in my own way and bring myself to tell the children in the morning. But I ask that you return as often as you can so that together we may keep his memory alive.”[/Color] Semeion opened his mouth to speak but Channah stopped him with a simple gesture with her hand. [Color=Lime]“We will burn the incense of mourning together when you return.”[/Color] Semeion paused this time, making sure that Channah was done speaking. [Color=Plum]“I will honor you with that, Channah. I will return tomorrow once the sun has given way to the moon once more. Then we will mourn together.”[/Color] Channah rose and extended a hand outward to embrace Semeion. She breathed in deeply, choking back the tears for just a little more. The two embraced in a long hug and then Channah stepped to her toes and kissed Semeion on the forehead. [Color=Lime]“Go with Richard’s peace, Semeion. Honor him with your life.”[/Color] Semeion wanted to reply, but he simply nodded and let the honor of having the last word of blessing fall to Channah. He smiled, though his lips betrayed that they were filled with painful emotion. Channah embraced him once more in a hug as Semeion headed for the door. The woman waited in silence for Semeion to step outside and off the porch. As Semeion turned toward the house once more from the road, Channah smiled and closed the door. Just before the door closed, Semeion could see that she had begun to cry again. She would mourn for her husband for a long time. Semeion breathed deeply. He needed a drink. [Sblock=Color Free Speech Section] Semeion was unsure where to turn once he arrived back in Reignsburg. He knew his way back through the city well enough, but internally his emotions pulled him in vastly different directions. He consciously knew that it would be required of his honor to speak to the family of his master. They would need to know fairly quickly that Richard would not be returning to their home. He found the street through the city that would eventually lead him back to the home and his master’s workshop. Yet, as the turned to follow the avenue a great sense of fear welled up inside of him. His mind coursed with the various ways in which to tell the now widow of her husband’s death. He visualized the pain and sorrow that he would bring upon the family. Semeion shook his head from side to side to clear the thoughts, not realizing he stood in the middle of the street while doing so. A cry came forth drawing Semeion back to reality. “Watch out, lad!” As the warning burrowed deep into Semeion’s mind in order to overcome the distant world to which his thoughts had taken him a carriage driver swerved to avoid trampling Semeion while he stood in the middle of the street. Semeion turned to apologize to the carriage driver only to realize that another oncoming carriage had to swerve to miss the first carriage. As this carriage swerved a passing rider on horseback jerked hard on his reigns to turn the horse away from the near carriage accident. Semeion saw the horse turn so that he was directly into the path of the horse. From the body language of the rider Semeion knew the rider did not see him standing in the street. One driver cursed at the other driver. “Watch where you are going, you tottery old fool!” The second driver spun around to reply to the insult of the first driver once he was sure the carriage would not topple over on account of the sudden swerve. “Don’t curse me, you diaper-wearing child! I’ve driven carriage for more years than you’ve been alive!” People walking along the side of the street began to yell and gasp as Semeion was nearly crushed by the first carriage and was on the verge of being trampled by the unsuspecting horse. The rider of the threatening horse lifted his hand in the form of a fist and began to shake it at the second driver. It appeared as though the rider had no clue Semeion was standing in his hose's path. Semeion shouted in self-defense with his left arm outstretched toward the horse. “Garidzomanai!” The fingers on his hand spread open wide as if he intended to catch the horse’s flared nostrils in the palm of his hand. Instinctually, his right hand flashed inside the small pouch he carried on his belt and the fingers of his right hand found the piece of wool they searched for. With a quick stroke his fingers rubbed the wool a single time as he spoke and a brilliant spark leapt of each of Semeion’s fingers. The sparks merged together in the air and jumped the few feet of distance between his fingers and the horse’s head. The sparks shot straight for the horse’s nose and landed with a bright, pressure free explosion. The brilliant light flashed before the horse’s eyes, startling the horse and causing it to rear back onto its hind legs. Semeion crouched low to the ground out of a simple instinct to avoid being kicked in the face by the rearing horse. The rider, who at this point was only controlling the horse with his knees and a single hand, was caught off guard as his eyes and shaking fist were on the swerving carriages. A startled cry from the rider rang out as the rearing of the horse caused him to lose his balance in the saddle. The crash of metal armor hitting the cobblestone street rang up and down the street as the crashing sound bounced off of the various brick faced storefronts that lined the street. As the swerving carriages passed by Semeion and the rider of the horse fell to the ground, the rest of the traffic on the street came to a halt until the commotion was resolved. A few of the passer-bys on the sides of the street all stopped and looked on in curiosity. Quickly these passer-bys began to mumble and pointed fingers of blame. A passing dwarf pointed an accusatory finger in Semeion’s direction and exclaimed, “The lad should not be in the street!” Another onlooker corrected the dwarf by saying, “The boy was protecting himself from the horse!” A third person yelled, “That first carriage was driving far too fast for such a busy street of commerce. These carriage drivers now days have no respect for the pedestrians anyway!” Before too long, groups of dissent and discussion broke out along the fringe of the accident scene. Soon everyone was arguing with one another and the majority of them were yelling in Semeion’s direction. The once pupil now turned mage rose from his crouched position and saw the dazed horse standing a mere foot away from his location. Semeion saw the rider completely for the first time and realized that he was dressed in chain armor. The weight of the chain made it hard to rise up off of the ground without help. The rider struggled to roll himself off of his back and up onto his knees from which position he would be able to stand easier. Semeion stepped toward the rider in order to help but was too late. A separate group of onlookers had also focused on the armored rider fall to the ground. Once the commotion settled and the traffic was stopped they rush over to help lift the rider up from his back. “We’ll help you up, sir, just stay still and give us a hand. We’ll get you to your feet and up on your horse before you can do it yourself in that armor! Do you have a name, sir?” Unable to help and knowing that his inner turmoil was the cause of the scene, Semeion suddenly added embarrassment to the list of emotions coursing through his body. Rather than stick around, he pulled his gray cloak tightly around him and turned to pass down the street in the opposite direction of his master’s home. His feet shuffled quickly, especially when it was necessary to try and push his way through the crowd that had gathered. Most of the crowd resisted his pushing and tried to grab hold of him to retain him so that the horseback rider could deal with him. Fortunately, Semeion was not a large man and evaded most of their attempts to grab hold of him. Semeion shouted at anyone who did manage to hold onto him for more than a second. “Let me go, I must leave! You’ve no idea what is wrong, just leave me alone!” Eventually Semeion broke free of the crowd and charged down the street in a full panicked run. He knew he hadn’t committed any illegal acts, but the embarrassment at the hands of the people was more than he could bear so close to the loss of his master. This was now twice he was unable to avoid the circumstances that life brought his way and the world seemed to be conspiring against him. The crowd pointed and heckled him as he began to leave, shouting to the rider on the horse that he was fleeing the scene. As the ones around Semeion heckled him, the people rushing to help the rider had managed to get him onto his feet. His well trained horse had not left the rider’s side throughout the entire incident. The rider stepped up into the stirrups and lifted himself into the saddle of his horse. “Good girl, Elistra. It’s alright.” The rider spoke softly into the horse’s ears as he turned his body back and forth in order to use his height in the saddle to scan over the crowd. He lifted the visor of his helm to reveal a smiling human face. His face was covered in a well-trimmed moustache and beard. He laughed as he saw Semeion’s gray cloak running down the street. As the cloak flapped in the wind, the rider added, “No worries, friends. Many thanks for the assistance. I think our friend has experienced enough punishment through his own embarrassment. Let him go. You have my word that no damage was done. If anyone should ask, tell them to seek out Ischarus and I'll reassure then that no damage was done.” The mood of the crowd instantly turned from arguing to cheering at the humor and honor displayed by the fallen rider. He was obviously naturally gifted at leading people and used his charismatic personality well to his advantage. “Now, if you don’t mind. Shall we go back to the sides of the streets where we all belong so that we can let the carriages and wagons pass along the streets as they are supposed to be able to do? They have been quite patient so far, and seeing as how nobody is hurt I see no reason to keep traffic from moving along any further.” The crowd slowly dispersed and traffic began to move along the street as normal. From the saddle, the rider encouraged his horse Elistra to walk for a bit to ensure that she had managed to calm herself down from the excitement and the near trampling of Semeion. After walking a bit, the rider settled the horse into a nice trot and the horse clopped its way down the rest of the street. Semeion, on the other hand, continued to run. He ran hard for three blocks straight down the street and then turned to the left. As he ran, he could feel his emotions coming to a head. Anger built up inside of him and he began to feel his body handling the internal struggle better. The more he ran the more focused his anger became. After turning left he ran for a couple of more block before settling into a solid pace. Not knowing where to go he began running around a few of the city blocks. He sputtered nearly unintelligible words while he ran in a zigzag pattern; his thoughts racing far faster than his lips could keep up. After circling a route of several blocks nearly a dozen times Semeion stopped and bent over to rest his hands on his knees. He sucked heavily upon the air around him; his heart pounded hard in his chest. “I must go home, first,” Semeion stated out loud. It was the first expression that he had spoken which made sense since he broke free of the crowd. “I must find out what good it is to study the power of the wind if I am unable to change the fate of the events around me!” He walked with a brisk pace over the several city blocks that led him back to his apartment. He ascended the single flight of steps and entered into his small home. The young mage quickly found the pack that he used to carry significant items to his training sessions at his master’s house. Rummaging around in the inside he removed two yellow candles. He lit one of the candles and placed it on a low table. Semeion lowered himself so that he sat with his legs crossed before the candle and said, “These candles were your gift of peace to me, Master. You know that the wind and the air fascinate me and both the wind and the air are necessary for the flickering of the flame. Now that you have shown me an even greater expression of the power of the air and the wind around us, I can release these gifts into other service. I shall always treasure candles as a remembrance of your life.” Semeion paused in mediation for the entire length of time that the candle took to burn to the table. Many hours passed by as Semeion forced his mind to meditate on his growing power, the life he and his master had together, and the path that stretched out before him. Once the candle had burned all but the smallest remnant of the wax and thus extinguished itself from lack of fuel, Semeion rose and bowed to the table. “I will take my revenge on that dragon. But in order for me to do so I will need to move beyond this pain. That process alone will teach me a great deal of life, and it would seem that you, my master, continue to guide me even in your death. I shall not forget you.” Semeion placed the remaining candle back into the pack, gathered up several sticks of incense, and slung the pack over his right shoulder. He checked one final time to make sure the other candle was extinguished and left his apartment, descending the steps three at a time as if to say he was in a hurry. Once Semeion arrived in the fresh open air he realized just how long his meditation must have lasted. The sun was already well into its rest and the moon had taken its place as the guardian of the sky. He looked up and greeted the moon. “Now is your time, the time for astronomy and secret knowledge. Guide my footsteps as I tread by your light.” His journey was quick as he walked by a rote path. He had eagerly walked these steps day in and day out for the past several years. Semeion traversed this path so often that he practically knew each lose stone in the road and stepped lightly so as to avoid turning an ankle under the soft light of the moon. Before too long he arrived at his destination. The house was quiet with only a single light on in the entire dwelling. His master’s workshop was even more dark and still. He paused for a moment as he collected his emotions before proceeding further. He bowed his head in reverence at his master’s workshop and shed another single tear over the loss of Richard Sathwright, wielder of the arcane forces. Semeion lightly bit into his lower lip and turned back to face the house. Slowly he approached and lightly knocked on the door. He heard movement inside. His master’s wife quickly cracked the door open, wondering who would be disturbing her at this time of the night. She smiled when she saw Semeion’s face. “Semeion! I had feared the worst when you did not return last night. Where is Richard?” Semeion could not find the words in his heart to speak plainly. Several moments of silence passed between Semeion and the woman on the other side of the doorway. “Semeion, what has happened?” The woman’s voice grew cold as the silence continued. “He … Master Sathwright … is dead.” Semeion replied. The words mentally forced out of a mouth that resisted every syllable. Semeion swallowed hard and closed his eyes in a long blink in order to hold back the tears. The woman on the other side of the doorway did not hold back her tears at all. Instantly her eyes watered and it seemed like streams had sprouted down her cheeks. Her shirt developed wet circles where her tears would collect on her chin and fall down to the cloth below. “Semeion, come in and tell me that you have told me a lie.” Semeion shook his head slowly from side to side. “I cannot do that, ma’am. I will come in and offer a story and give you a gift of my mourning, but I cannot tell you that it is a lie.” The woman cried out once in pain. The tears continued to pour down from her face as she turned her back on the door and buried her face in her palms. Semeion opened the door the rest of the way and let himself in. He quietly closed the door behind him and touched the woman’s elbow. “Channah, please sit. It will be easier to bear if you sit.” The woman responded to Semeion and sobbed as Semeion guided her to a nearby chair. He sat beside her for nearly 20 minutes while Channah sobbed in anger and mourning. Eventually her tears began to subside and her breathing slowed and became much shallower. “Tell me how it happened, Semeion. I do not want to know, but you must tell me.” Semeion nodded in agreement. “He died trying to bring me to an understanding of my own freedom, Channah. He led me to his place of meditation to show me wind blowing along the trees.” Channah smiled as the tears continued to run down her face. “I know the place well. He went there often. Sometimes he used to take me with him before the children were born. It is a beautiful place.” Semeion smiled and nodded. “A considerable dragon of the forest stalked us and came upon me suddenly. Your husband, my master, rushed forward to turn me invisible so that I could flee from the dragon’s presence. Unfortunately as he drew too close to the dragon he was enveloped in the evil darkness. He struggled with what magic he had to offer, but the dragon bested him. I am sorry for not coming to you earlier, but I myself was frozen in pain and horror until this morning. It has been a long journey for me to even return back to Reignsburg and especially to bring myself to your door.” Channah smiled. “You were his star, Semeion. He would have easily died for any of his family and for you. You had become like a son for him. It pained him to think about having you leave.” “I would have gladly stayed, ma’am. But I now know he was right. It was time for me to go onto my own. If only I could have admitted that earlier.” “No, Semeion.” Channah replied. “Richard would have taken you there anyway. It was how he planed his farewell to you – so you could see the demonstration of the wind across the tops of the trees.” Semeion looked to the floor and remembered the pack he had brought. He opened up the pack and lifted several sticks of incense along with the yellow candle. “Your husband gave me these sticks of incense and asked me to give them to you to burn should he ever die during one of our journeys. I promised him that I would fulfill that request should it come to pass. The candle was a gift from him to me to remind me that the air and the wind are always around even though we cannot see them. I have already burned one in his honor as I mourned for him. I give the other so that you might do the same and make his honor and my mourning complete.” Channah accepted the incense and the candles and laid them solemnly on her lap. She lifted her eyes to Semeion. “I thank you, and now I must really ask a hard favor of you.” “Anything, Channah. You have treated me like your own son,” Semeion replied, looking earnestly into the eyes of his master's wife. “I ask you to leave me alone for the night. I must mourn in my own way and bring myself to tell the children in the morning. But I ask that you return as often as you can so that together we may keep his memory alive.” Semeion opened his mouth to speak but Channah stopped him with a simple gesture with her hand. “We will burn the incense of mourning together when you return.” Semeion paused this time, making sure that Channah was done speaking. “I will honor you with that, Channah. I will return tomorrow once the sun has given way to the moon once more. Then we will mourn together.” Channah rose and extended a hand outward to embrace Semeion. She breathed in deeply, choking back the tears for just a little more. The two embraced in a long hug and then Channah stepped to her toes and kissed Semeion on the forehead. “Go with Richard’s peace, Semeion. Honor him with your life.” Semeion wanted to reply, but he simply nodded and let the honor of having the last word of blessing fall to Channah. He smiled, though his lips betrayed that they were filled with painful emotion. Channah embraced him once more in a hug as Semeion headed for the door. The woman waited in silence for Semeion to step outside and off the porch. As Semeion turned toward the house once more from the road, Channah smiled and closed the door. Just before the door closed, Semeion could see that she had begun to cry again. She would mourn for her husband for a long time. Semeion breathed deeply. He needed a drink.[/Sblock] [/QUOTE]
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