"Althea," he called. She came immediately, light of foot and quick.
"Yes Wandmaster?" she inquired, "Have I forgotten something?"
"Yes," said John, "Something very serious and unforgivable."
Althea's pale face coloured a little and she dropped her eye.
"I am sorry Wandmaster. Tell me what it is and I will rectify it at once."
"You have forgotten to take a break, forgotten to eat on many occasions, forgotten to leave on time at the end of the day." John reprimanded her as though she were a small child and with such a serious face that Althea did not know how to respond.
"I...I'm sorry Wandmaster. I suppose I don't work my best when I'm tired. I'll make sure I'm more careful in future."
John laughed now and put a hand on her shoulder.
"You are incredible!" he said. "I am only joking!" She looked relieved and smiled up at him. "But, I really want you to slow down a little. You will make yourself ill and then where will the healery be if our best pair of hands is in bed needing healing herself?"
Althea flushed deeply and smiled wider, accepting the praise modestly and dropping her gaze in obvious delight and surprise.
"In fact," said John, "How about joining me for a meal now. The dining hall will be pretty empty at this time, and we can talk shop."
"Talk shop?" she queried. John laughed again.
"It's an expression we use where I come from. It means to talk about work."
"Oh! But I haven't finished here yet."
"Whatever it is you haven't done can wait till tomorrow morning," John insisted. "Now, get your coat, it's cool outside and let's go eat!" She hesitated, obviously uncomfortable, so John added "That's an order!" Very flustered now, Althea sped away, shouting a few orders to other healers as she went, not wanting to leave things unfinished, and soon arrived back with a wrap around her shoulders. As she approached him, John smiled at the picture she made hurrying towards him; quickness of foot and mind, efficiency, modesty. She was also, he suddenly noticed with surprise quite beautiful in an alabaster kind of way but vulnerable; not like Jazlyn who was self-possessed and determined. This lady was exactly that, a lady; an angel of mercy in the healery. But not like Jazlyn, no, not like Jazlyn. John was slow to react when Althea arrived at his side, being lost in his inner world and Althea hesitated, not knowing what to do or say.
John came to himself and smiled at her. "Don't look so worried. I don't bite," he said, and once again placed a hand on her shoulder and directed her towards the door. Without protest, Althea fell in beside him and they made their way to the food hall. They found a table in the corner, and John made Althea sit and wait while he went to the servery and returned with two plates piled high with food. As he put Althea's plate in front of her, she let out a torrent of protest interspersed with giggles.
"I can't eat all that!" she laughed.
"Doctor's orders!" replied John, and at her blank expression corrected himself. "Healer's orders!"
"Oh. But I can't!"
"Do your best then! Eat what you can and then get a good night's sleep!"
They started eating and talking about the various cases in the healery and were soon in deep discussion. The tension dropped away from Althea as time went by and John was delighted to find that under the flustered exterior lurked a keen sense of humour and a lively personality. Not like Jazlyn, but nice.
They eventually rose from the table to leave, and both felt relaxed and refreshed. It had been a good idea, John decided. They walked across the plain towards the living quarters, still deep in conversation and passed two sentries on duty near the entrance. One was Honeth and the other was Jazlyn. John felt rather than saw her and would have turned to speak to her, but on second thoughts, decided against it. It wasn't such a bad thing that he should be seen in the company of another woman, and as he and Althea passed by chatting he ignored her completely. She had tried to push John out of her heart when he had, in her mind, abandoned the Realm and her, but she had been unable to reconnect with Wes, though she had tried. She saw and felt John's pain and regret, and at the same time had become a little afraid of Wes, who seemed to have become bitter and argumentative since his transformation in and out of lo-dom, and had to finally admit that despite herself, John was the focus of her affections. In fact, Jazlyn had a lot of thinking to do and spent a miserable watch fighting the demon who spiked her jealous heart that evening after seeing John with Althea.
John had pushed all thoughts of his past life out of his mind every time they intruded and set his mind to work on the task ahead of him. He no longer felt he was being held against his will, in fact, he found himself trying to plan ahead for what he had to do. However, he was deeply troubled, and one day he had not gone to the practice field, which Jet did not allow to pass without comment, and rebuked him jokingly at breakfast, saying
"The novices will be beating you soon, Wandmaster John, if you miss practice sessions," but John had frowned and excused his absence, pleading tiredness and without responding with his usual cheerfulness.
"Something troubles you, Wandmaster," said Jet. John looked at him seriously, and answered,
"Yes, you're right." The breakfast room was full and some of the guardians were taking an interest in the exchange, John's seriousness being evident. Jet steered him away from the tables and into a quiet corner just outside the door of the mess room.
"Can I help?" he asked warmly. John looked at the man who stood before him and realized he had come to like him and admire him a lot. He got the best out of the guardians, himself included, through firmness, and good humoured jibes, but he was highly respected by all and no-one ever underestimated his abilities with weapons or his determination. He had not lost his cool under attack and his guardians had performed admirably due to his training, but also to his presence among them, which inspired loyalty and commitment. John felt he could trust this man, and answered candidly,
"I am ignorant, Jet, pig ignorant." Jet's eyes widened in surprise.
"About what?" he queried.
"About everything!" said John, having difficulty controlling the volume of his voice. "You have always taught us to 'know the enemy' in order to beat him. I don't really have any idea who the enemy is. I have vague ideas, scary imaginings, and very little direct knowledge. I have no idea of the geography of this place, the history of what has gone before, the weaknesses and strengths of my enemy. You have all grown up in this environment, and knowledge which you take for granted, is not available to me. I have a lot to learn and I don't know where or how to learn it." Jet considered him levelly and nodded slowly.
"Have you spoken to Lord Menoneth?"
"Yes, but I always come away feeling I only have half the answers, probably because I don't know the right questions to ask. I need to go back to school." Jet put his hand on John's shoulder and a friendship connected them.
"Let me think on this a bit, Wandmaster. I will see what I can do."
"Thanks," said John gratefully, and they went out into the plain, John heading towards the temple, and Jet to his quarters.
John rose at dawn the next day and presented himself to Jet at the practice field. The training took place as usual, but John's heart wasn't in it. He pushed himself hard, but his co-ordination was off and he made a good many mistakes, to the point where Gilladen, who was his sparring partner, stopped and made the sign of submission, not wanting to punish his opponent any further.
"Where is your head today, Wandmaster?" he asked.
"Sorry, Gill, I'm not giving you much opposition, am I?"
"No, indeed. I have fought better matches with my little sister."
"I didn't know you had one," said John in surprise.
"That's because she's only fifteen and lives at home in Kinguard. Too young to be of interest to you," laughed Gilladen. John too laughed, but took the opportunity to leave the field and sit with his back wedged up against a boulder to watch the others finish their training. Jet was busy directing and improvin
g the technique of his guardians, and John watched in admiration as he put them through their paces.
"Not feeling up to it today?" asked a voice at his side, and he looked up to see Jazlyn gazing down at him with a hint of concern in her eyes.
"I'm surprised you noticed," he said levelly removing his gaze from her face. His heart quickened in his chest, but he fought to remain calm. He knew his dreams were over as far as Jazlyn was concerned and he had accepted it. Wes was sparring under the demanding eye of Jet, but John still felt he was watching and following closely what transpired between them. John wished Jazlyn would leave and he didn't engage her in any further conversation, but she didn't move and her closeness became suffocating to the point that John himself stood up and made to go. He muttered something about returning to his chambers to shower and turned to walk away. Jazlyn placed her hand gently on his arm and he was forced to look into her dark eyes once more. What passed between them needed no words. She read his sorrow, his acceptance of her rejection, his regret at having left the Realm, and most obvious of all, his longing for her. Jazlyn could see inside his mind, he knew that, but he couldn't hide his feelings. It wasn't his fault, he reasoned, that she was probing deep into his emotional world. He hadn't invited her in, and he found he resented her prying, and defended himself by sending the very definite message 'You are intruding' firmly but without the spoken word, back at her.
Her eyes widened and, caught unawares, she let down her guard, allowing John to read what was written there. The over-riding feeling was one of sympathy and John winced at her pity, but there was more; hurt pride, regret and a very deep need for him to love her. Now it was his turn to be surprised, and Jazlyn knew she had been exposed. She bit her lip nervously and her eyes became watery before she withdrew them from his gaze. In the end it was Jazlyn who left first as John gazed after her, more confused than ever, with Westroth's stare burning a hole in the back of his head from the practice field.
John had showered and was lying on his bed going over things in his mind when he heard a knock on the door and Jet appeared in the entrance.
"Ah, Wandmaster John, I hope I'm not disturbing your rest?" he inquired.
"No, Jet, not at all, come in," said John and rose to meet him. John pulled over a chair for Jet beside his own and the two men made themselves comfortable.
"I have been giving a lot of thought to your request for schooling and I have made a few discrete approaches to people I think may be able to help," said Jet.
"When can I start?" asked John.
"As soon as you like," came the reply, "this afternoon if you want."
"I'm surprised anyone would want to help such an ignorant pupil," said John.
"They were fighting over you!" said Jet with vigour, "and it was all I could do to stop them arriving at your door with books in hand!"
"Really?" replied John with genuine surprise."Who are to be my teachers?"
"Well, let me see now, there's Juno, our historian, Maplin, our geography expert, Vilma, our mystic, who insists her lessons are more important than anyone else's, and Gothrik, who is our strategist and military expert, he was my teacher, by the way, an excellent man."
John listened with interest and was pleased he would at last be able to learn something to help him in his endeavours.
"Who do you suggest I see first?" he asked.
"Well, they are all useful to you, but I think out of courtesy you should see Vilma. She is insisting that she is the one who will be most helpful to you and it is unwise to deny a lady!" John laughed.
"Yes, I can see your point. Where do I find her?"
"I'll take you now if you're ready," said Jet.
"Ok, just let me finish dressing, and I'm all yours," said John with a grin "Or all hers, perhaps I should say."
As they left the living quarters and headed out across the plain, Jet explained
"Be respectful Wandmaster when you speak to Vilma. She is old and wise and has seen many things. I am surprised she hasn't hunted you out herself before now."
"I am always polite, Jet, that you should know by now. I was very well brought up."
"You were indeed, young man. You do your parents credit." John was pleased at this praise from Jet, who he respected highly and whose company he enjoyed immensely.
"Jet," he said on an impulse, "What is there between Wes and Jazlyn? Do you know anything?" Jet's face turned thoughtful for a moment and he eyed John with curiosity.
"Does Jazlyn interest you, Wandmaster?" he asked
"You could say that," said John with a smile. "She does something to me. I can't explain it. It's just like a magnet. I feel myself pulled towards her but I think she prefers Wes. It would be good to know definitely so that I could stop thinking about her. Sometimes, though, I get the very strong feeling that she feels the same about me as I do about her. I don't know, Jet, I'm not very good with women. I'm confused."
"All men are confused as far as women are concerned," grinned Jet. "With Jazlyn there could be certain complications if you and she decided to become closer." he said.
"What complications?" asked John, "you mean that we are from different worlds, or my time frame and hers are completely unconnected, or I'm the Wandmaster? Yes, I know all that."
"No, there's more, but I will tell you another time. I have to ask for clearance from Menoneth first."
John stopped in his tracks and stared at Jet.
"What?"
"I can't say anymore at present, John. I promise I will tell you when I can. Now, here we are, we have arrived at Vilma's."
A musty smell of burning spices met their nostrils, and a dark cave entrance glowed in candle-light before them. Vilma appeared at the entrance and John realised that he had seen her around. He had noticed her at various times, always present but never a protagonist. She was like a picture which hung on the wall for years but you didn't notice till someone pointed it out to you. Her hair was grey and black in streaks and tied back in a long braid with two thinner braids which fell at her shoulders from her temples. She wore a metal circlet around her forehead in which were set two small stones, a deep blue lapis and a purple amethyst. Her eyes were grey and her skin, though lined, was still fresh so that it was difficult to guess her age. Ignoring Jet completely, she set her gaze on John and said,
"So, you've come at last. It took you long enough!"
"Sorry?" responded John, taken aback.
"Let's hope you won't be," she replied, and then to Jet. "You can go now Jetham. I will not harm your protegee!" and with that she turned and entered the cave. Jet gave John a wry smile, wished him good luck, and then turned on his heel and left.
John stood at the cave entrance allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark, and Vilma's voice, now lower in tone and more musical said, "Enter Wandmaster John and take your place." John moved deeper into the gloom and saw Vilma seated beside a ring of stones in the centre of which burned a small fire. It appeared to be smokeless and odourless as though it were made of pure flame only, the tongues of which varied in colour from white to yellow to orange to red and at the very base of the flames, embers of all other colours which variously appeared and disappeared, deceiving the eye and mind into questioning their presence at all. On the opposite side of the fire was a flat slab of rock, and Vilma motioned to John to sit there. For a time his hostess said nothing, and John waited patiently, staring into the flames and finding them comforting in the strange atmosphere of the cave. His eyes tried to capture and register the colours before they disappeared but could only appreciate them if he allowed his inner awareness to feel them in much the same way as he did the crystals. Vilma studied him, and he felt her presence mentally in his thoughts. It was a gentle sensation as though he was a small child and she a tender mother reaching for his hand in comfort, and he felt calm and untroubled. John heard her voice as though from very far away, raised in an incantation whose words he could not understand but which soothed him and caused him to drift like a wisp of smoke in the breeze. V
ilma held him, apparently hypnotised for a considerable time but John lost track of how long, being only half aware of his body and having no sensation of discomfort or stiffness. As he drifted, he suddenly became aware of a blackness, deep and dark growing from a tiny distant spot and expanding to slowly cover all his awareness, and with it grew a fear and a threat which chilled him to the marrow. He was trapped in his mind and had no way to escape it. It encroached ever closer and his breathing became quick and panicky as he strove to pull away, but it was no good, he was ensnared. He felt for Vilma's presence and a brief instruction touched his mind.
"Maintain control!" it said. John brought all his efforts to bear on the darkness before him and calmed himself, fighting his fear and drawing in strength. He felt the colours in the flames, called in his connection with the crystal trove in the temple, and in his hand, visualised the wand. He was larger now. He was strong and he was unafraid.
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