2 Chapter 2: A forbidden practice

"How far is it to your village?" the wizard asked.

Veretta glance back hesitantly.

"Not far. Less than half a day," she replied.

It still felt unreal. The figure draped in black walking through the snow behind her was a man brought back from the dead. Yet, every now then when the light caught in his sharp eyes, it was as if he was alive than Veretta felt herself. At that moment, those same golden eyes met Veretta's and he gave a small smile.

"Tell me something," he said, "Why did you choose me, little necromancer?"

Veretta might have flinched at the words 'necromancer' if they had come from any other mouth. But she felt strangely calm hearing it from him. He didn't seem to harbour any judgement nor reproach in his word. She knew she would have plenty of time to feel guilty later once the others discovered what she had done.

"I read about you as a child," Veretta answered, "Then again once I was an adult at the mages' college,"

"The mages' college?" he asked with more interest than Veretta had seen from him.

"Yes," Veretta replied, "There is one here in Sorren,"

"Sorren?" the wizard said thoughtfully, "I've never heard of such a country,"

"It was established..." Veretta paused, "it was created after you died,"

"And when did I die?" He returned without hesitation.

"You don't remember?" Veretta stopped in her tracks and stared back at him.

"No, I do not," he replied reticently and kept walking.

Veretta watched him go with a sense of unease. Should she tell him everything? No, not unless he asked.

"You died over three hundred years ago," Veretta gave her answer quickly.

"I see," he said quietly, "That is a long time. I suppose I should be grateful that I have been remembered at all,"

Veretta's eyes widened, "You were the second grand wizard of the Empire and a knight. You reestablished the first schools of magic. Your book is still well-read even now. Of course you are remembered!" she said with more enthusiasm than intended.

He turned back with an astute smile, "Just for the things I did well or also the things that I did terribly?"

"Both," Veretta answered honestly.

He seemed to appreciate the answer as he turned and went on walking. Veretta wasn't certain what pleased him in the answer but she felt satisfied.

By nightfall, they reached the edge of the village. It was a small expanse of little brick cottages. They were all covered in snow with tiny chimney's puffing out clouds of black smoke. The windows were lit with a warm glow. The entire village sat quietly under the moonlight as though it had not been disturbed for years.

Veretta led the wizard down the winding path to the last house. It was a small and comely room dressed in ancient-looking wood furnishings. It was simple but warm. The wooden table at the centre of the room carried an embroidered blanket which looked to be the work of a careful and patient hand.

On their arrival, a small old woman with a slightly arched back and frail hands greeted them with a kind smile.

"There you are Veretta," she started off, pottering around the kitchen. "I thought you would not return,"

"I'm sorry I'm late, grandmother," Veretta smiled.

For a moment, she lost her train of thoughts cajoled by her grandmother's scent of fresh lavender and the warmth of her smile. Then Veretta's eyes came back with a start. The wizard was standing behind looking around the room suspiciously. Veretta glanced side-wardly back to the little room, she wondered what he must think. A man who served in the great armies of the Empire of Rotan inside this small humble cottage.

"Ah, please just take a seat where you want," Veretta motioned him inside.

He had to bend his head to duck under the small door. He came inside, then the man shrouded in black took a seat at the table obediently.

"This is the friend I told you about, grandmother," Veretta glanced at the wizard anxiously, "the one from the mage's college,"

The wizard met her gaze but said nothing. His eyes turned from Veretta to staring ahead vacantly into fire pit. Veretta started to light the flames quickly. Within a few moments, a fire was burning brightly on the hearth. Veretta's grandmother turned nimbly for her slight frame and motioned to Veretta. Veretta quickly popped a rack of fresh bread on the table. Finally, she dished out the broth from the pot and presented them in front of the wizard.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the meal in front of him.

"There you are, young man," Veretta's grandmother declared.

"Thank you," he said in a small voice.

Veretta's grandmother smiled proudly and took a seat at the table. Veretta did the same though in a much more awkward fashion.

"What is your name?" Veretta's grandmother asked cheerfully.

Veretta glanced up at the wizard expectantly. In truth, she was curious. In all the books, his first name was never mentioned. He was mostly referred to by title alone. Veretta wondered what name would come out of his mouth. However, a strange expression came over the wizard's face. His brow furrowed as he stared down at the food. Veretta noticed his hand tremble slightly.

"I...It was something...I know it's right there," he muttered, "Why can't I remember?" He added with some agitation.

"You can't remember your own name?" Veretta's grandmother raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, he's been unwell, grandmother," Veretta interceded, "His name is ..."

Veretta searched her mind for a fitting name. What would be a good name for a man she had brought back from the dead? It almost felt disrespectful to give him any old name. Her mind recalled one of his tales about the black wizard stopping the rain with his bare hand. It was probably an exaggeration but it gave her an idea.

"His name is Errik," Veretta told her grandmother.

"Ah, that is a good name," Veretta's grandmother nodded, "Like the god of the rain?"

"Yes," Vereatta answered hastily, "Exactly,"

She glanced over at the wizard. His eyes were cast down with a solemn expression but he said nothing.

"Well Errik," Veretta's grandmother went on, "You must eat well to recover your strength."

"Thank you," he answered again in a subdued voice.

The meal was passed with a few more quiet words between Veretta and her grandmother. Finally, her grandmother turned in for the night leaving the two alone again. Veretta looked over at the wizard apprehensively. He hadn't said anything during the duration of the meal. He was sitting very still, his eyes deep in the red flames lashing around the hearth.

"Is Errik really my name?" he asked at length.

"No," Veretta confessed, "It's just something I thought of on the spot. I don't know what your real name is. It wasn't written in any of the books,"

"I see," he replied flatly.

"I'm sure it will come back to you," Veretta inhaled deeply, "this is the effect of the spell. Necromancy is a forbidden practice. I don't know all the effects of what such a spell can do to a person. It's a very complex art,"

"Is that so?" his eyes turned to Veretta sharply.

At once, she felt a shiver go down her spine. Veretta swallowed uneasily. Sitting at her childhood table had almost cast a spell of forgetting. However, he wasn't really some sickly student in her college, he was the man they called the wickedest wizard to ever live. Perhaps, it was better he didn't remember.

"Your bed is just down the hall to the left," Veretta rose briskly, "help yourself to more food if you like,"

He gave a nod but didn't meet Veretta's gaze again. She left him sitting in front of the fire and retired for the night.

The next morning, the dawn filtered in softly from the slightly ajar curtains in Veretta's room. She blinked slowly then her emerald eyes opened wide and she sat up. The room was warm, her grandmother must have already lit the fire.

Veretta went into the main room and found her grandmother slicing bread on the table. The fire was burning gently. Veretta glanced at where the wizard had been sitting. Did he sleep well? No, what a useless thought... Veretta took a seat and began to eat.

"He must have been full on your dinner last night," Veretta smiled. "he still hasn't woken up,"

Veretta's grandmother looked up slightly with her shrewd green eyes, "I think you mean you, Veretta. Your friend woke at dawn and took off out in the cold."

"What?" the spoon dropped from Veretta's hand.

"I told him, there's no use going out there. You can't see anything that early but just went off anyway,"

Veretta flew from her chair and ran out the doors. Could he have decided to run away? But if he broke their deal, it would kill him. That's how the contract works. He must have known, so why? Veretta dashed out into the snow searching wildly.

Veretta was running so fervently through the village she barely spotted the figure in front of her and banged into them with a slam. She fell back into the snow.

"I'm sorry," she rubbed her head.

It felt like she had run into a brick wall. There was no answer. Veretta looked up half inspecting to find a wall instead of a person. Her eyes widened. A hand cloaked in black reached out towards her.

"I thought you..." Veretta hesitated.

The wizard stared back at her with his usual guarded expression. Veretta took his hand sheepishly.

"I thought you had left," Veretta said in a low voice.

"Your house is running low on firewood," he replied.

Veretta glanced down. Under his other arm, there were several logs piled up. Veretta blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment. The wizard continued on his way leaving her to stand still in shock.

Finally, they reached the cottage once more. Veretta followed the wizard inside, still feeling somewhat embarrassed. He set the wood by the log basket by the fire. Veretta's grandmother looked up with a smile.

"Oh, your back already, Errik?"

He nodded and sat down at the table. Veretta still stood in the doorway. She glanced at her grandmother who gave a knowing smile.

"What are you standing there for like an ice statue, Veretta? Help me peel these potatoes,"

"Yes, grandmother," Veretta took her seat and did as she was asked.

However, every now and then she kept turning to the wizard. Was the great warrior and man who rebuilt the school of magic really sitting here peeling potatoes with her? Veretta shook her head. Wasn't he just a human too? Legends can so easily disguise a person. Even though Veretta had spent her life with his book in her hand, how much did she really know about him? Do the deeds make a man or is there something underneath?

That evening passed the same as the last. Once more, Veretta was alone with the wizard. The sense of dread that had filled her last night abated. She glanced over at him quickly.

"I feel quite guilty for the peace we have here," Veretta confessed.

The wizard turned his eyes from the fire to Veretta.

"On the other side of the border, our neighbours are being torn about by that tyrant Silthus," Veretta said bitterly, shaking her head at the thought of it.

"Silthus is the warlord you mentioned?" the wizard asked.

Veretta nodded sombrely.

"What kind of man is this Silthus?" the wizard questioned.

"He's rotten to the core," Veretta uttered venomously, "He is a warlord who leads a pack of mercenaries. There was a dispute in his country to the south. He took over then got greedy. One by one he took over the southern countries then started marching across the continent,"

"That shouldn't be possible," the wizard seemed lost in thought, "the Empire. How can he have gotten past the Empire of Rotan?"

"You remember that?" Veretta asked hopefully.

"I remember some things," he replied quietly. "So tell me. Why does the Empire not stop him? Noone has.... had managed to cross into our territory for some time,"

Veretta swallowed uneasily, "I am sorry but the Empire which you speak of, it is gone,"

The wizard's eyes widened, he blinked slowly before saying, "How? When?"

"They went to war with the Elven republic a short time after you died. They were defeated."

To Veretta's surprise, the wizard threw his head back laughing loudly and cruelly. She stared at him somewhat perturbed.

"I don't know why," he stifled another laugh, "but that makes me laugh. It's so funny it hurts. Ah, perhaps it is the irony of sin taking over the sinner,"

"I wouldn't know," Veretta answered slowly, "but the elven republic didn't fare well either. They were conquered not long after. Then smaller groups took strongholds and formed the countries we have now,"

"I see," the wizard tilted his head back with a smile, "then it is as I thought. This Sorren, as you call it, was once part of the Empire?"

"Yes, i believe so,"

"So, I have not travelled too far then," he said thoughtfully.

"No," Veretta answered attentively. "So...Do you remember much about the Empire...and your time there?"

The wizard's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that much was lost during the wars," Veretta replied, "A first-hand account of it, it's...it's like a world of knowledge no one will ever see again,"

The wizard regarded Veretta silently for a moment. "First answer something,"

"Yes?" Veretta nodded eagerly.

"You said you attended a mages college?" the wizard's cunning eyes were watching her closely.

"Yes," Veretta stared up surprised, he had remembered. She had only mentioned it in passing.

"And is that the place where you learnt such dark magic?" he said with a taciturn smile.

"No, they don't teach such things there," Veretta's jaw clenched, "They would expel me if they found out what I did. It was something I was working on myself. In secret,"

"Is that so?" the wizard smirked.

"I never intended to use it. It was just for study purposes," Veretta sighed, "but when I heard about Silthus breaking through the continent I started to consider it more seriously."

"You said that your king will not help you. If you are a member of a mages college, why do you not appeal to them for help?"

"I tried," Veretta said bitterly, "but they do not involve themselves with the war. They say they are an independent organisation, but they're fools if they think Silthus won't come for them all the same,"

"So this college is not bound to your nation?"

"No, none of them are,"

"There are more?"

"Yes, over a dozen,"

"How interesting," the wizard mused, "in my time, we were tied in service to the Emperor,"

"Well, since then the number of magic users has considerably dwindled. They are considered to be exceedingly rare. That is why the nations cooperated to establish the colleges,"

"What do you mean? Don't people learn magic anymore?" the wizard said with considerable force. "Even knights could use some degree of magic in the Empire. The elves too. They used magical instruments,"

"It's not that they don't want to learn," Veretta shook her head, "it's that they can't. Those born with the ability to use magic dropped considerably. No one knows why. It was as if the magic disappeared somewhere,"

For the first time, the wizard's eyes widened with genuine astonishment. He brought a hand to his mouth as if he might be sick. His hand came down but his expression remained the same. His fingers tapped the table restlessly as he stared into the fire with abnormal intensity.

"Errik?" Veretta said softly, "are you alright?"

For a moment, the wizard was very still. His eyes remained wide and wild. He suddenly rose. Veretta flinched with surprise. He blinked slowly, turning back to her with a brisk bow. Then, in a low vicious voice he added:

"I don't need your concern. It's nothing."