Posted by: rebeccajrobare | October 16, 2013

A New Adventure

I could bore you all with the details of my laborious health process right now – I’ve been to four doctor’s appointments in the past two weeks and to Outpatient Imaging twice – but while I hope we are starting to find some clues about my mysterious illness, I would rather not think about that for a bit. Instead, I have – as I so often do – started a new tale, and written a short first chapter for it. Here’s to starting stories, and here’s to the hope and work of finishing them.


The Last Adventure

Chapter 1: A Conversation at Midnight

Death, Orrin felt, was best discussed at night. He couldn’t sleep these days, anyway. The fear that preyed on his mind was largest at night, and even before that fear had taken shape he had found himself lying awake most nights, or puttering around his lonely cottage. It was approaching midnight, then, when he poured a measure of ink into a silver bowl, and sent a mental summons to his oldest friend.

It was not long before two faces appeared in the ink. Donatell was the elder of the two, though that didn’t mean much when all three were well past their seventieth year. Many, many years before, Donatell had encouraged Orrin to make the journey to Evaron to seek the source of power. The younger of the two was Anton, who had been a beauty in his youth. Donatell had at first been afraid to encourage Anton, concerned that it would be too easy for a man of power to seduce the beautiful youth. Anton had persisted, and in time had sought power himself. The three had been friends and colleagues for more than forty years, and in that time, they had seen many other friends come and go.

It was the going that concerned Orrin now.

“My friends,” he said to the faces in the ink, “it is so good to see your faces. Thank you for heeding my call.”

“Of course, Orrin,” said Donatell, and “Are you well?” said Anton. Orrin smiled to himself, thinking of Anton taking Donatell’s hand in concern.

“I am well, but I am worried. With every conversation, I fear it is our last.”

“The same thought has been in my mind,” said Donatell.

Orrin smiled sadly. “I am too wise to fear my own death, or to try to delay it. But I fear what the world may face without us. It has been too long since a young man has sought the source of power in Evaron, too long since a new wizard has come to us for training. I fear that when we are dead, magic will die with us as well.”

“I share your fears,” said Donatell, as Anton nodded gravely. “But what can we do? The hour is late, my friend, and we are old. We have no acolytes, no descendants. Even those who need our help come to us only in their most desperate need, fearing we are beyond giving them aid.”

“There is only one thing we can do,” said Orrin. “We must find acolytes, and show them the way to Evaron.”

Donatell frowned, but Anton laughed. “Where do we find acolytes? They hardly grow on trees. And do you really think we could go to Evaron, at our age? I do not think I would survive the journey.”

Orrin was grave. “None of us will escape death,” he said. “Isn’t it better for us to die trying to preserve magic for future generations, than safe and comfortable in our homes, and let the source of power slip away from this world?”

Anton fell silent, and Donatell began to nod. “I see where you wish us to go,” he said. “We must make the journey to Evaron, and we must find acolytes along the way. There may be no likely youths in our towns, but there may yet be men willing to risk their lives for magic. Perhaps we will find them as we travel.”

“And if not, it is in my mind that at least one of us would have to go to Evaron anyway,” continued Orrin. “If we are to be the last of our line, we must seal the source of power so that none will ever discover it, and have magic without teaching. Such a thing could destroy the world, more surely than the lack of magic will.” Orrin paused, and then said, “I will make this journey alone, if I must, for I think that it needs to be done.”

“No,” said Anton, “You are right. And you mustn’t go alone. Better that we should journey together, better that we should die together, than to pass into darkness without fighting to preserve what is ours.”

Donatell leaned his head on Anton’s shoulder. “And Anton and I would never be separated. No, we must all go. And, perhaps, we must hasten. The days draw in, and the winds are turning cold. Autumn is upon us, and who knows who will live to see another spring? We must prepare. Orrin, be ready. We shall be with you in a few days’ time, to begin the journey to Evaron.”



  1. Well, it’s a great blog although reading about some of your suffering caused my stomach to clench and heart to pound. But then again I am in great aerobic shape so the heart pounding is fine and the reactions are to be expected of a high reactive. (I need to genotype myself for the short SERT allele) What correct speech is in this case is unclear to me so all I’ll say is you are the top of my metta meditation. Thank you always and may you be well.

    • I didn’t post your other comment because it seemed rude to post your contact info all over the internet. Not gonna get in touch, because Reasons. But I wish you well.

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