Ouroboros (working title)
Image Credit: Don-Pachi
Audience: Young Adult
Themes: Friendship, Choice, Destiny
The friendship of two young apprentices is tested to its limit when one of them encounters a mysterious time traveler with a promise of great destiny for one of them.
“A lovely job master Souboror,” the old man rubbed his hands at the sight of the dozen peeled and washed potatoes on the counter. “We shall have a fine stew this noon!”
Souboror sighed, as he brushed a wisp of black hair from his eyes. He would never understand why he was forced to do such menial tasks. Garier, the elderly house servant, continued about his work preparing the meal.
“Did your training with the Master go well yesterday young master? Did he introduce you to anyone interesting in the dreaming realm? A mermaid, or some pixies perhaps?” Garier lifted a heavy pot as he spoke. The scrape of metal on metal drew Souboror’s attention and caused him to jump to assist the servant. Too late, Garier’s primitive false arm was already securely hooked on the pot handle and with the help of his good hand, and no small amount of resistant clucking toward the young apprentice, the pot was soon hoisted over the roaring cooking fire.
“Garier, why don’t you let Magnalian do something for that arm?” asked Sourobor gesturing toward the long wood and metal crook affixed near the servant’s elbow in place of the native forearm that was once there.
“Well, it does bruise more easily than my other,” replied Garier holding up his opposite fleshy hand with a smirk. “But, I guess I’ve had it such a long time I couldn’t imagine it any other way.”
A deafening noise and a tremor shook the stonewalls of the kitchen, displacing a number of bundled herbs from their ceiling hooks and bringing a wicked hiss from fire as the stew pot slopped its contents over its brim.
“The front gate!” exclaimed Sourobor grabbing his cloak and racing for the door.
“Be careful young Master! You know how the Master’s guests can be!”
Sourobor heard little of the admonition and raced out the back door and toward the front courtyard. There was indeed a battle being waged at the gate but what fool magician would wage a frontal assault against the Sanctuary in broad daylight?