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Astrath’s tattoo was still burning the next day; he dipped his hand into the cool water which made it seem much larger than it actually was.
The tattoo was like dark red blood on his palm and he had tried everything to try and ease the pain. He was twelve years old and short for a boy of his age with long blonde hair and beautifully large brown eyes, he had an upturned nose like his mother and a fair complexion like his father.
The dense forest was quite, and his daimon was walking along the shallow part of the lake, throwing pebbles into the deeper part of the pool which created ripples across the velvet-like surface.
A large cressbird flew overhead with a shrill scream, its cries alarmed the other birds and sent them flitting away towards the deep wood. Once the bird had scoured the area it flew off shrieking, to Astrath it sounded like a scream of mock laughter.
“The scrolls say nothing of pain relieve spells. I’ve tried all the spells I know and some Aethel suggested and her Mark is beginning to fade.” He looked across to where she was splashing her feet. “Are you listening to what I’m saying?”
He looked down at the magicians Mark: a tear drop pierced with a dagger, he touched it lightly and winced as shots of pain waved through his arm.
“…I just can’t tolerate some of the magicians’ rules, especially about binding some of our Abilities, it doesn’t seem very fair.”
“If your ‘extra’ powers were not bound then every magician will be too powerful to control one another, the balance will be shifted, someone will always want to be the next Runemaster. The Council are not taking any more risks; two Abilities are enough for one magician.”
A large cressbird flew overhead with a shrill scream, it's cries alarmed the other birds and sent them flitting away towards the deep wood. Once the bird had scoured the area it flew off shrieking, to Astrath it sounded like a scream of mock laughter.
The Golden Compass's daemons and made them daimons
“We should go back now. Master Percevil wants a few of the old manuscripts rewritten.” He stuffed his hand into his pockets and made the long journey back home. The Magicians no longer lived in castles or houses; they had gone back to the traditional way of living in caves or cities that had been cut into the sides of mountains.
He whistled as he went, whipping away flies and jumping over fallen trees. Somebody ought to clean this mess up. Myth had no trouble with flies or anything else; she simple took on a ghostly form so she could pass through material existences.
“Why do you have different powers from most of the other daimons?” he asked her.
She didn’t reply at first. Over the last year he had learned to be patient with Myth, she always thought carefully about what was asked and what her response would be before she answered. At this particular moment she was quite for a whole minute, by which time Astrath was beginning to lose his patience.
“We’re all different,” (as if he didn’t know that!). “My powers grow as I get older, just as yours will. Sometimes a power will replace another or I will begin to get better at one such as this.”
The forest around them shifted position, the trees were more separated and the first sounds of birds and insects were heard. It was much lighter here and he could see the valley that led to the Magicians’ sanctuary. He did not understand what had happened and looked around wildly.
“What did you do?”
Now that he had been Marked he could get inside without calling one of the guards. A shield buzzed and tickled the hair on the back of his neck. He held up his hand and spoke two words; the Mark shone and allowed his to pass through the shield. He could feel the force pressing against his thin frame, it felt like trying to squeeze through a narrow hole in a wall.
No choice. That’s what Myth had always said to him and then looked at him disdainfully. She hates me. He didn’t dare say it out loud, Aethel would only laugh but as a friend he wanted to confide in her. He had read stories about Guardians finding out ways to hurt or kill their charges and he didn’t want that to happen to him.
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