The Fallen - An excerpt.

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The Fallen - An excerpt.

PostPosted by TheMetaphoricalPen » Wed Dec 16, 2015 10:56 am

Chapter 1

The cheering crowd and stamping of feet filled Sage’s ears as he opened his eyes. Drowsiness overwhelmed him at first, then he remembered. Today was Selection day! Jumping out of his bed Sage raced outside grabbing a slice of bread on his way, his mother yelling at him. He didn’t stop however. Today was Selection Day after all. He was seven and today was the day he would get to show someone what he could do. Dozens of masters would come down from the Citadel and inspect the children of the Crag, the poor area surrounding the Citadel. There would be Scribes, Warriors, and, the one Sage was most excited for, was the Magicians. He had known he was magically gifted since he had heard of the term. All types of stuff happened around him. Even though the kids in the Crag disliked him for it he never cared. He knew that once he was a magician, everyone would look up to him. He would be able to do anything! He dashed out into the street. The crowd had already aligned the street in front of his house blocking his view of the masters. He was able to catch glimpses of them through the small viewing holes between the standing bodies of proud parents waiting for their child's name to be called.
“Excuse me mister. I’m… I’m trying to get through.” The man Sage was attempting to pass turned towards him. The dirty face of a disgusted adult glared down at him. The contempt the old man held for the youth was lost on the young child and again he tried to push past.
“Go home boy. Nobody wants no one from your family here. What could you possibly hope to be selected for anyway.” He turned around again but Sage tugged on the man’s ratty clothes and spoke again.
“But sir, I’m seven. Everyone is supposed to be at the selection. Please!” The dirt-faced man shrugged him off without looking back.
“I said go home boy. Now leave me to watch my son be selected.”
“But… sir. Please. My mama and papa and I have been waiting for today. They won’t come back for a year. Sir please! Please! Please! Please!” The young child was close to tears now. “I only want to make my mama proud.” The man angrily turned around and pushed the boy away. Tripping over a rock Sage fell into a patch of mud. With a roar of laughter the man turned back to the Selection. Sitting there in the small patch of mud, Sage began to cry. A door opened behind him and his mother walked out. She took one look at her bawling son and the dirt-faced man and picked her son up, walked up to the man, slapped him in the face and carried her still crying son into the house with the quite audible slam of the front door. Inside the house Sage’s mother spoke to him in a soft tone wiping his clothes with her shirt.
“Now there. It will be alright. Some people just don’t recognize when someone is as special as you. People don’t like our family very much. But you don’t pay attention to them okay?” Sage nodded, “Don’t worry, the mean man can’t hurt you anymore. I have you now. Something tells me he won’t hurt you again any time soon.” Hugging his mother, Sage whispered in her ear,
“Did you hit him hard?” Chuckling softly, Sage’s mother whispered back,

Seven Years Later
“Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and girls I have something within my hand that will amaze you all.” Sage lifted a closed fist for everyone in the small audience could see it. He was standing on a small platform on the side of the street. A small stand rested beside him with a small pouch atop it. A crowd of people had gathered around the platform to watch Sage as he demonstrated the small amount of magic he had been able to teach himself in the 7 years since he had been rejected from the Selection. It had taken him a year to forget about the old man and his brusque manner and rude words. It had been some small satisfaction when the man’s son was not selected but that too had faded. Now Sage helped his poor family by performing with the small magic he had found himself. He was, as far as he knew, the only self taught magician in the world. But then, he hadn’t traveled much so he couldn’t be completely sure. He was sure however that he was the only self taught magician in the Citadel or the Crag and that was something that he figured he had a right to be proud of. So he used this talent to perform and earn some money to help his failing family.
“Now within this hand is a pinch of dust. Not any ordinary dust mind you, but magical dust.” Actually it was normal dust but they didn’t need to know that. “Now does any of you know what magic dust does?” As usual no adults raised their hands. Most of them were content just to politely enjoy the demonstration. However the children were a different matter altogether. Little hands shot up into the air and Sage pointed at small child with auburn hair that would have been a spectacular sight if not for the dirt dusted through it. That was the thing with the Crag. Dust and dirt had a tendency to end up everywhere. What better trick than, to make it magic? The child’s eyes sparked with keen interest as she began to speak.
“It can make you fly!” A brilliant smile adorned her face as she waited to be affirmed that magic dust was indeed used for flying. Sage smiled and said,
“Nope. But good try. Anyone else?” Nobody else raised their hands as they realized that magic dust was not in fact, a source of flight. “Well I guess I’ll just have to show you then.” A mischievous grin adorned Sage’s face as he prepared to blow the dust into the air. Of course there was no such thing as magic dust. Sage had just picked this off the ground that morning. The real magic was what they saw in the dust. Blowing the dust into the air Sage heard a few gasps of excitement from the children in the crowd. The parents as usual were silent as ever but Sage could see a few grinning faces among them. Reaching his way out ward with his mind he saw the dust from multiple points of view. Then he rearranged the dust to form the face of the small girl who had answered his question earlier. The dust girl smiled and laughed. Then the dust rearranged again to form two stick figures fighting each other with swords. The dust man to the right swung his sword downwards and the second swordsman caught it with his blade. After exchanging blows for a few seconds the second man caught the first by surprise and the first dust man dissipated and the remaining dust dropped to the ground in a pile. The winning dust man bowed first before joining his twin in a pile on the ground. The audience clapped vigorously before drawing a few coins from their robes and dropping them in a cup at the side of the platform. As the crowd began to disperse the small children picked up some dust and began trying to blow it into the air. Chuckling to himself Sage began to turn and pack up setting the cup in the small case.
“Some trick.” A voice spoken from behind Sage made him turn around to see a girl about his age. She had dirty blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and sparkling brown colored eyes. Her skin was tanned from long days under the sun and her expression reminded Sage of one who would punch you in the face as soon as compliment you. Adorning her was a chainmail chestpiece and two small gauntlets on her arms. A Shoulder guard protected her right shoulder and shin guards protected her shins. Beneath the armour she wore black cloth that, to Sage’s eyes, looked quite hot on this day. One thing that caught his attention though, was the shortsword resting in its scabbard at her right hip. Sage’s first impression of this girl was that she was extraordinarily beautiful. His second impression was that she looked extraordinarily unapproachable. She looked to be a Warrior judging by her clothing and, as everyone knew, warriors and the poor didn’t mix. That didn’t stop Sage from puffing his chest out slightly. A boy could dream couldn’t he?
“Thank you. Unfortunately the show is over for today. Tomorrow will be something new I bet.” It wouldn’t be actually. The dust routine was relatively fresh and he wouldn’t be trying anything new for at least a week or two. But Sage was willing to bet that the beautiful warrior wouldn’t be returning for sometime, if at all. This was the Crag and as he had said before, Warriors and the poor don’t mix.
“I’m not looking for a show. I’m looking for a good smith. Can you point me in their direction?” Her eyebrow raised quizzically at him. Sage looked out at the messy sprawl of buildings with no sense of order whatsoever and said,
“That’s too bad. The only smith within this area is down there a few yards. He should give you a good price.” Sage turned back to his things and was pretending to pack them up while watching the young warrior from out the corner of his eye. With a thoughtful look on her face, she turned around and started off in the direction he had pointed at. He sighed and started to finish packing up his things.
“Why weren’t you Selected?” Sage whipped around and looked at the warrior.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because you have obviously got a talent for magic. Illusion in particular. You’ve taught it to yourself and that’s no small feat. I want to know why you weren’t Selected.”
Bitterness now crept into Sage’s voice as he spoke. “I wasn’t Selected because nobody respects my family.”
“Who’s your family?”
“Emortuus.” The look on the girl’s face was clear as soon as he spoke. The name Emortuus was looked down upon highly and had been for years. Something about a great grandfather of his having an affair with an elf. Interracial love was thought of as disgraceful.
“So yeah just go off and get your armor.” He turned around forcefully but the girl still wasn’t finished with him.
“You’re very good. I wonder what you could do with a bit of training.” The girl’s eyebrow quirked up in an annoyingly cute way.
“Well we won’t find out will we?” This time he stared directly at the girl hoping she would get the message to go away. She looked him in the eyes and held his gaze for a full minute.
“You never know. I’ll put in a good word for you.” Finally the girl walked away. But something in Sage forced him to speak.
“Yeah right. And may I ask of you m’lady who my saint is?” He spread a quirky smile across his face with an over the top bow in accompaniment. A smile played at the corners of the girl’s lips.
“Sandra.” She said then she turned and walked away leaving Sage confused and slightly giddy. Sage picked up his case and walked home. He pulled a brown cloth that hung around his neck over his mouth and nose to keep the dust out. It worked only slightly but everything the residents of the Crag did was to protect themselves from the dust. They wore thick clothing and heavy boots. Some wore goggles and many wore the neckerchief Sage now had around his neck. Sage looked up at the Citadel towering over the city like a mountain. In fact as Sage had heard, it used to be a mountain. Then, dwarves had arrived and molded the mountain to their needs with three tiers. A large round base. A medium sized center and atop that the very height of the Citadel, the third tier. Years ago there had been a war and the humans had taken the Citadel for themselves. Now it just resembled a giant stone cake. The first tier was used for training Warriors. The middle was for Magicians. And the third and highest tier was reserved for scholars and the King. Supposedly there was a network of passageways all throughout the Citadel. Sage had never been inside so he wouldn’t know. In fact he had never been on any of the three tiers. He merely remained in the Crag where the dust always found its way into your shorts. He was poor. And as his father always said, “the poor stay poor.”
As Sage walked down the street a little boy who couldn’t have been older than 12 brushed past him, hitting him on the shoulder as he did.
“Hey watch where you’re going kid!” The boy didn’t look back. He was strangely stiff as he stuffed a leather pouch into his coat pocket. Sage’s hand went to his belt. His coin pouch was gone.
“The little ...” He broke into a run after the slowly fading boy. Hearing heavy footfalls the kid looked back and saw Sage running towards him. The kid began to run as well. He dashed into a small alleyway behind two huts. Sage quickly followed not far behind and ducked into the alleyway. He saw the dark brown hair of the kid just as he jumped into a sinkhole in the ground. Sage ran to the edge of the sinkhole and peered down into it. It was so dark Sage couldn’t see the bottom but he figured if the kid survived then so would he. Sage jumped down the sinkhole and hit the ground. As his eyes slowly adjusted Sage saw that he wasn’t in some little hovel. He was in a massive cavern. Sage looked around and saw men women and children huddled around pitiful solitary fires strewn throughout the cavern. They were covered in stringy blankets that were barely holding themselves together. As Sage got closer he could see their faces. The first thing that caught his attention was their eyes. They were empty and hollow. They stared at him with a mixture of hatred, envy and wistfulness. Finally Sage could hold their haunting gaze no longer and looked away. He looked around and saw a mop of dark brown hair. halfheartedly Sage walked towards the boy. He clamped his hand onto the child’s shoulder and was alarmed at how boney it was. The kid whipped around and Sage saw the fear in his eyes.
“Please sir! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me sir please! Here’s your money!” The kid thrust the pouch into Sage’s hands and looked down shamefully. Sage stared at the leather pouch in his hand. Sage looked down at the kid and around at the cavern full of starving families.
“Look at me kid.” The kid looked up and pleaded with his eyes.
“Sir I…” Sage tossed the pouch at the boy’s feet.
“Keep it. You need it more than I do.” A smile edged onto the boy’s lips. Slowly at first. Then his smile broadened to a full on grin.
“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The boy’s smile was infectious and Sage couldn’t help but smile as well.
“Next time try a street performance. It works much better than stealing.” And with that Sage walked away. He climbed up a rusty ladder out of the sinkhole. Looking around Sage realized they were quite a ways from his house and the sun was on it’s way down over the horizon. Sage set off at a brisk jog. Sand dusted his face like earthen rain. Sage pulled his neck cloth up over his nose and continued. As he passed the buildings around them he remarked about how they couldn’t really be considered buildings. They were small hovels standing up by the weakest of supports with straw covering the roof in the case of rain. They all looked different due to the fact that they were all built by different people with a variety of different styles and tastes. Some had angled looks with sharply slanted roofs and jagged corners while others were soft and round with a domed roof and curved walls. Sage himself had a very bland flat house. The roof was flat and the house was boxy but it was still homey to him. The entire Crag, though filthy and annoying in many ways, it was his home. It’s dusty streets and uneven roads were familiar under his feet and the dust in his hair was almost as much a part of him as his actual hair was. His dad had often joked that Sage’s dirty blonde hair was a result of too much dust. His dad was always joking.
Sage finally reached the front door of his house just as the sun disappeared over the western forest taking with it the last threads of daylight and enveloping the world in shadow. Sage opened the door and stepped inside. He was greeted by the stern face of his mother.
“So where were you?” Her voice trembled slightly betraying her concern for him that hid in the thin mask of disapproval.
“I ran into a thief. He tried stealing my money pouch.” Sage set his pack down onto the floor beside the wooden door. He moved towards his mother and hugged her tightly. Though she may be stern, she cared deeply for her son.
“Did you get the money back?” She inquired lightly.
“No. I gave it to him.”
“You gave it to him?” Sage’s mother stepped back and looked at him confusedly.
“Yes mother. He needed it more than we. Trust me.” Sage looked at her with his brown eyes.
“Don’t give me those dog eyes.” She turned curtly. Sage noticed she had dropped the subject with the pouch. “Now there’s bread in the cabinet and your father should be home any time now with some pork.”
The door opened and a man walked in. He had an unkempt beard and twinkling eyes. His clothes were ratty and torn the same as any other Crag resident. He wore the same neck cloth up over his nose and as he entered he pulled it down.
“Hello!” Sage’s father embraced him in a tight bear hug. His father was of roughly the same stature as he was, 5 feet and 8 inches.
“Hi. Did you get the pork?” Sage asked politely taking the bag that his father carried in his hands and setting it on the table.
“Unfortunately the pig was less generous and usual so I didn’t get too much however there is a little.” Sage set out the slices of cooked pork.
“Well I can just have bread for tonight.” Sage spoke immediately.
“No no no! You are a growing young man and I will not have you skimping out on your food when you have so little already!” Sage’s mother lightly hit the back of his head. For a woman who cared for his health she sure did berate him a lot.
“Ah but mother as a older…” Sage’s mother raised an eyebrow. “...ah, wisened woman you need your food more than I.”
“How about we split it?” Sage’s father suggested with a smile. Sage and his mother looked at each other embarrassedly for not having thought of that themselves. Then Sage smiled and withdrew the food from his father’s satchel and laid it out on the table. He sat down after his parents and they all began to eat.
“So how did your performance go today?” Sage’s father asked.
“Well.” Sage smiled as he remembered the responses of the children when he asked them about the dust. “One girl thought that magic dust made you fly.”
“It doesn’t?” His father’s face was so serious that Sage thought he was serious for a moment. Then he smiled and took another bit of his food finishing it off. He stood up and said o his family.
“I think that I will be retiring for the day today. Goodnight.” Sage’s father kissed the top of his wife’s head and looked at Sage. “Well I can’t very well do that to you.” Instead they hugged and Sage’s father went to lie down followed closely by his wife. Sage leaned over and blew out the candle before moving to his bed and lying down. The day’s events ran through his mind. The performance, the thief, the girl. The girl. What was her name… Sandra. Sage smiled to himself. And that was how he slept. With a big goofy grin spread across his face.
Chapter 2

Sage awoke to a loud knocking at the door. At first he thought he was dreaming but as the knocking persisted he realized that he would have to leave his comfortable mattress. He got up and crossed to the door to his house. His hair was messy and his clothes disheveled. However at this point in the morning he wasn’t ready to care yet. Sage opened the door to find a man about a foot shorter than him with smile lines and a carefree expression. The man looked as though he was slightly old judging by the gray hairs that stood out against the dull black hair. His eyes were an odd hazel color and they twinkled as though they had just thought of a funny joke that nobody in the room would’ve understood. When the man spoke, his voice was kind but powerful. Sage got the feeling that this man could be a nice and sweet person but if he got angry he had some lungs that could be put to good use.
“Hello. May I presume you are Sage Emortuus?” His eyebrows rose as he asked the question.
“Yes,” Sage began,”how do you know my name and who are you?” The man merely smiled and pushed past sage into his house. He looked around and promptly sat on the floor.
“My name is Master Moribundus but you can call me Master Mori. And I am here to examine if you are fit to become my apprentice.” He said it with such a monotone voice that the notion of what he was saying escaped Sage for a moment before he realized who this man was and why he was sitting on the dusty floor of his home.
“Wait you mean that Sandra wasn’t just saying that?” Sage’s head spun. His whole life he had been angry about the Selection. The grubby old man who had blocked his path had ruined his life. It was all because of his family name. Emortuus. Fallen. It was so fitting it was almost as if the universe had decided to play a joke on him. And a cruel joke at that. Sage had just figured screw the universe. Screw that old man and screw the Citadel and the selection and the magicians with their rules and everything. He had lost hope at ever becoming a famous magician or doing big magic and raising his family up from their slump of shame. But now here was this old man sitting in the floor of his house grinning at the dust collected on the floor and drawing shapes in it.
“So do you want to become a magician Sage?” The man asked with a twinkle in his eye. The question was so absurd to Sage that he laughed. The sound was a little loud and must have woken up his parents because they came out of the only separated room in the house.
“Sage who is this man?” His mother asked warily. She eyed the man in gold robes drawing a bird in the dust on their floor.
“Mother,” Sage crossed to where his parent were staring dumbstruck at Master Mori. “This is Master Moribundus, he’s a magician.” Sage saw his mother’s eyes widen as she realized what this meant.
“You mean… is he here to… to assess you?” Mori jumped up and approached Sage’s parents with his his hand outstretched. Sage’s father shook it slowly in awe. His mother grasped Mori’s hand and blinked furiously to keep the tears from her eyes. She was smiling.
“Indeed Mr. and Mrs. Emortuus. I hear your son has a particular talent for magic. Illusion in particular. Indeed,” Moribundus looked straight at Sage still grasping his mother’s hand,”Illusion is my specialty as well. So will that be a yes or a no Sage?”
“A yes or no to what?”
“Do you want me to assess your skill?”
“Oh yes sir. Yes please.”

Master Mori had taken Sage down the street to a tall stone building in a far away part of the Crag that appeared as though it was about to crumble. Sage didn’t quite remember a tower there but he didn’t go to this part of the Crag often. They climbed the spiral stairs up to the roof. The stone they walked upon was cracked and missing pieces here and there. Master Mori picked his way to the edge of the tower and sat down on the side, his legs dangling in the open air. Sage looked over the edge and experienced a swath of vertigo.
“Come on. Sit with me.” Master Mori patted the wall of the tower next to him. Sage steeled himself and climbed onto the edge next to Moribundus who looked out over the town with a content smile on his face. Sage looked at him with confusion. He remained motionless looking at the Crag below them silently.
“So,” Sage began hesitantly,”are you going to test me?” Moribundus looked at Sage out of the corner of his eye annoyedly.
“I am.” Sage caught his meaning.
He looked out at the Crag and saw that the amount of people in the roads was much more than usual. The number of people was immense compared to a normal day. He dismissed it quickly but something still felt off about this whole thing. He looked up at the Citadel and wondered if Sandra got her armor and what she was doing at the moment. He still remembered her smile and a grin began to spread across his face as he remembered her. Then he stopped himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about a Warrior girl. He was poor. The poor stay poor. Warriors and the poor don’t mix. And then the case of her. Would she even feel that way about him? No. She wouldn’t. Sage shook his head and slapped a goofy grin across his face. He didn’t care about her anyway.
“So let’s begin.” Sage was grateful for a distraction. “I am going to ask you three questions and you will answer them.”
“Wait you mean we won’t be doing any actual magic?” Sage was curious.
“Can you do magic?” Moribundus raised an eyebrow.
“Yes actually.” Sage stood up happy to display his talent. But Master Mori pushed him down.
“Rhetorical question. Don’t answer it. As I was saying you will answer three questions as best as you can.”
“Fine.” Sage resigned himself to this odd quiz.
“First Question. How many people are in this crowd?” He said it calmly but that was like asking how many fish there were in the sea.
“How am I supposed to guess that?” Sage stood up again.
“Don’t guess,” Moribundus said this like it was the easiest thing in the world. Finally Sage gave up fighting him. He realized if he passed that he would have to get used to losing arguments to Master Mori. He looked out at the crowd again. There were so many people. He began to count with his finger pointing at them.
“No no,” Master Mori pushed his hand down. “don’t count. That defeats the purpose.” Moribundus had a smile on his face like this was all a joke. Sage was starting to think it was.
“Oh I know,” Sage began cynically “there’s plenty!” The look on Sage’s face was one of annoyance. He this man was beginning to get on his nerves and a few backhanded comments would make him feel better.
“Correct!” exclaimed Mori with a grin. Wait. That was the answer? Sage was incredulous but Master Mori began the next question.
“Question Two. What do you smell?” Sage knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. That was an odd question. Sage sniffed in and realized that the smell around him was different than usual. It smelled like… steel. But also a good smell almost like, lavender.
“It smells like steel and lavender.” Sage said hesitantly. He felt that that question had a subtle trap to it. Moribundus considered this for a moment. Then a smile quirked at his mouth.
“What’s so funny?” Sage asked defensively. Master Mori composed himself before he spoke.
“Nothing, now. Third Question.” Sage cut him off quickly.
“Wait did I get that one right?”
“Sure,” Moribundus shrugged. Sage raised an eyebrow but Moribundus revealed nothing. “Question Three. What is the next question?” Sage looked at Master Mori. “That one might take you a few seconds so I will give you some time. With that he got up and walked down the spiral staircase leaving Sage to ponder what was possibly the oddest question of the day. What is the next Question? What is the next Question? It ran through his head over and over. What is the next Question? Sage thought back to the previous questions and their answers. If he had learned anything from the first two of Master Mori’s questions it was to question what was never questioned. Smell, Logic. Smell… a sense. Logic, a widely accepted idea.
Sage got up and descended the spiral staircase. Again he thought of how odd it was that he had never noticed a tower here. Sage began to walk through the streets again marveling at how many people were in the crowd. Plenty. Plenty of people yes, but plenty for what. What was their plenty of people for. Sage passed a butcher shop that reeked of… that was odd. Steel and lavender… no it smelled like meat and blood. Of course it did. Sage resumed his thinking. As he thought, he walked. He turned corners and walked around houses he never had. He looked up after roughly an hour and realized he was at the edge of the Crag. He had never been here before. The North Forest loomed in front of him with trees as tall as giants. There was something foreboding about the forest that made him want to walk away. He felt fear and turned away. He walked briskly back towards the main road of the Crag. Suddenly he realized he didn’t even know why he had been afraid. He had never been afraid of darkness or trees. He actually liked them. Determined Sage walked back to the edge of the North Forest. Again he felt the irrational fear that didn’t seem to come from himself. It was almost like it was being forced upon him.
Suddenly an idea appeared in his mind. But he would have to be sure. He thought back to that morning. Moribundus had showed up at the door dressed in thick robes. Robes. Wait a second. Magicians didn’t have robes. Not that thick of them anyways. And there wasn’t any dust on them either. That didn’t make any sense. The Crag had dust everywhere. There was dust on everything. In fact he heard that some Magicians dreaded the Selection because of the dust and how it got on everything. Something didn’t add up there. Then the tower that Master Mori had taken him to. He didn’t remember a tower there but then one could’ve been built recently. He hadn’t been to that side of the Crag in two years. But no, the tower had looked old. Extremely old. That couldn’t be right. And then the questions. How many people are in the crowd? What does it smell like? What is the next question? Sage was having some serious questions at the moment. He still felt like he was missing something important. What type of magic did Master Moribundus say he specialized in again? Charm, enchant, no…. Illusion. Everything clicked into place in a second. It made sense. All the odd things he had felt, the questions, the dust. In fact he didn’t remember there being any dust in the air today. That was it. He suddenly knew the answer. Or rather, the question. Sage dashed back through the Crag all the way to the desolate tower. He climbed up the steps as fast as he could. He jumped the last two flights. He looked at the edge of the tower where he knew Master Mori would be. Sure enough he was lying on his back on the edge of the wall sniffing a purple flower. Sage walked up to him and before he could say anything at all, Moribundus cut him off.
“You know what this flower is? Don’t worry, that question isn’t a part of the assessment. I wanted to know if you knew what lavender looked like in flower form. I know you’ve probably smelled the cream we distribute, but this is where it comes from.” Master Mori sat up and looked at Sage a question in his eyes. Moribundus seemed to enjoy questions quite a lot.
“I have the answer.” Sage spoke confidently.
“To what?” Asked Moribundus still looking at the lavender.
“The third question.” Sage was beginning to doubt his answer now.
“Oh that,” Mori looked up at Sage, “I didn’t ask for an answer I asked for a question.”
Sage looked at Master Mori.
Master Mori looked at Sage.
“Can you not do that?” Sage sighed.
“Do what?” Moribundus’ face remained innocently composed save for a small hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Master Mori was messing with him Sage knew.
“Point out things like that when you know what I mean.”
“How do you know I know what you mean?” The small smile was definitely bigger now.
“And stop answering everything with a question.” The smile disappeared from Moribundus’ mouth.
“I thought you had learned by now…” The smile returned in a full force grin.
“Question everything.” But the voice that spoke did not come from Master Mori’s lips. It came from all around Sage.
Sage opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized they were closed. He was standing in his front doorway with an old man in front of him standing roughly a foot shorter than Sage with smile lines around his face.
“Master Mori.” Sage said in slowly. The smile on the man’s face widened with a twinkle in his eye.
“Ah Sage Emortuus. I’m flattered you know of me,” Moribundus gestured to the inside of his home. “Well, are you going to let me in?” Sage stood in the doorway frozen with a grimace on his face. A huge sigh escaped him. Moribundus just stood there in the doorway grinning at him. Sage knew he had passed. He could see it in Master Mori’s eyes. Something told him that he hadn’t even needed to take the test. Somehow Mori had known he was good. Master Mori was a Magician who loved using his craft and loved using it on others. Sage had to admit it was a little funny. As a showman himself he enjoyed a good performance and the one just performed by Master Moribundus had been a spectacular one indeed. He couldn’t wait to learn how to do this trick to others. It would be a great party trick. Though he’d never even been to a party before. Yes master Moribundus had played a joke on him but it had been a pretty good one. Sage smiled and said.
“I’ll go pack my bags.” Impossibly Moribundus’ smile widened even more.
“That is certainly a good idea Mr. Emortuus.”
“Sage who is this man?” Sage’s mother exited the bedroom followed closely by his father. Sage couldn’t help but laugh at his mother’s words. They were exactly the same words Illusion Mom had said. Sage looked back at Moribundus. That had been some good scripting. Master Mori just nodded his head towards Sage’s pile of belongings. Sage looked back at his Mother and father standing confused in front of their bedroom door.
“Mother, This is Master Moribundus. He’s a very adept Illusion magician. He has come to take me as an apprentice in the Citadel. Mother I can finally become a magician. I can do it. I can raise our family back to it’s glory. I’m going to do it mother. I’m going to make you proud.” Sage hugged his mother and close his eyes. His mother as well. Though not before tears began to stream down her cheeks. She hugged her son tightly.
Moribundus stepped up to Sage’s father and held out his hand to shake. Sage’s father hesitantly shook it.
“Don’t worry Mr. Emortuus. I’m not going to blast you with any lightning. I’m an illusionist. We aren’t allowed to pursue the other Magics. Too much power for one person.” Suddenly Sage’s father grasped Moribundus in a bear hug.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Though not one for tears(or hugging for that matter) he did both of those things. And Sage, though he would never admit it shed some too. It was a big moment for the entire family. They had been waiting for this for years even if they hadn’t known it themselves. Well, Maybe one of them had. Sage’s mother always knew her son had something special. Something really special. But even she didn’t know how special her son truly was.
Whenever someone's asked what power they wish they had, flyings always at the top of the list. but I have to admit, I've learned to love falling too.
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Re: The Fallen - An excerpt.

PostPosted by Zufawx » Tue Jan 12, 2016 11:37 am

Alright. Thy excerpt was a jiffy good one, sir! Only a few complaints, however.

1. The Seven Year Gap is too quick. We need a little more characterization for the mom, Sage.

2. Don't be afraid to add a little more detail in the surroundings.

3. A tiny bit more exposition would be nice. I mean, you can;t expect the reader to completely understand everything.

This is all critical, however.

Otherwise, great story.
"Life needs things to live." - Percy, Critical Role
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The Evil M
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Re: The Fallen - An excerpt.

PostPosted by TheMetaphoricalPen » Tue Jan 12, 2016 11:42 am

Title is everything my friend. "An Excerpt. This is a small part. Exposition comes in at a later point. 7 year gap was basically to say nothing happened there. the only things about that time you need to know are revealed at a later date.
Whenever someone's asked what power they wish they had, flyings always at the top of the list. but I have to admit, I've learned to love falling too.
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Re: The Fallen - An excerpt.

PostPosted by krazy » Tue Jan 12, 2016 1:50 pm

> "don't be afraid to add a little more detail"

>is 34140 characters describing 3 or 4 events

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