This is quite an old one, and was a task for school in English, so the quality isn't amazing, the plot, however, is a lot older, I just never written it in English before the task. I got an A, by the way.
The scarlet mage
When I regained consciousness, I didn’t remember a thing; my head was empty except for three words that burned in my mind like flames. Even though I couldn’t put my finger on it, something felt wrong in the room. Also, the air carried with it a sickening sweet stench but I didn’t mind. Slowly slowly I regained control over my mind, conquering it back from the red mist that filled it, still without memories, I could barely even speak yet, all I had was a tiny bit of clarity in my head again, alongside with a partial control over my body.
I looked around me, discovering a big, hexagon shaped chamber, which had no windows whatsoever. In the middle of the room there was a small, round stage, that seemed to be an altar or shrine of a sort. The walls were colored black and white in a pattern of- white, black, white, black- and so on and had mysterious rune like symbols on them in the contrast colors. The ceiling, which was very high above me, was shaped as a dome with a single hole at the top that seemed to create a pillar of light. The floor was made of white hexagon shape tiles with some red tiles in a pattern. After showing such long attention to the floor and my mind a bit rehabilitated I finally managed to realize what was wrong, the floor was filled with corpses.
I thought I should be able to recognize them but I wasn’t, I just could not remember a thing, even today, this is the first memory that I have. There was no blood, no sign of resistant, nothing to imply the cause of death, just cold, silence bodies. One of them, the corpse of a woman drew my attention, now, in a look back, I can assume she was my mother, but I will never know for sure. She was of average height, quite thin, with long dark hair and blue eyes that stared, lifeless, at the ceiling. She wore a green and black velvet dress.
I stared at the pile of bodies, my head so heavy and numb for me to be afraid, or angry, disgusted or sad, then, by some unknown sense, I turned around to the door. A man was standing there, he was a bit short, yet wide shouldered, and had that body built that is typical to a man that was muscular on his youth, he seemed around fifty or sixty years old, that time when one already has lost their youth but still didn’t suffered the damages of old age. He had a black shaved hair, which seemed to have clusters of white and gray here and there; on his face he had an unshaved beard circle. His eyes seemed black, at first, until I knew who he was I thought they were just dark brown, but they were completely black and looked a lot older then they should have been, he was wearing torn jeans, black military like boots, and a black belt with a silver belt-buckle on his legs. His shirt was a white, simple T shirt, above it he wore, a dark, leather coat. On his finger he had a black ring shaped as a serpent eating its tail.
He watched me with fascination, like one would watch an intriguing, phenomenal beast, he then smiled, walked toward me, and offered me his hand, gesturing a handshake-“it’s a pleasure to meet you, how are you feeling?” It took me several seconds to even understand his question and a while longer to form the answer-“fine?” He smiled at me, like one smiles at a pet who successfully committed a complicated trick- “very well, do you remember what happened?” this time my answer came faster-“no”- “don’t you worry about it,“ -he answered- “in a while, it would be just fine.” His words made me feel reassured, calmed, his words made me feel safe, “ I have a proposition for you”- he continued- “come with me, and be my apprentice, you’ll both be fed and homed, and you will learn a useful craft.” I was curious, also, I had nowhere else to go, and I was quite fond of this man, I grabbed his offered hand- “I agree”.
In the way to his mansion in the mountains I have learned his name was kreyl, but I called him the master, because I had no memory, I had no name, the master said that until I will earn my name, I’ll be called the apprentice, I didn’t mind. When we reached the manor, he took me to a narrow hallway with three doors I every side, and a great, black metal door in the end- “this door leads to the inner suite, you still haven’t earned the right to sleep there” he opened the first door to the right, revealing a small chamber containing a bed, a closet, and a chest, the chest contained a quill, an inkwell, and some parchments, in the closet I founded a tan linen robe, “to learn, the soul must be away from any distractions” he explained. He then took me to the second room to the right, which seemed to be a room for physical training-“a powerful mind must dwell in a powerful body”. Then he opened the third door to the right, behind which was a room with a well, a dining table for one, and some barrels with food inside them- “we can’t forget the needs of our flesh”. He then opened the last of the doors on the right, behind which was a cozy little room containing an impressive desk, two chairs on each side facing one another, and a bookcase-“this is where will meet twice a week for your education.” He finally said. Right before he left, he turned and looked at me- “and don’t you ever, ever try to look at the rooms on the other side!”
The next time I saw him was on our first lesson, we sat facing each other, and he pulled out a book titled- ‘the story of the crow’ the book was about a mythic character- the raven knight- who was a knight who- like a lot of other knights at his era- used the power of the arcane alongside his own power, the difference was, that unlike the other knights sources of magic, he received a new greater one, he harnessed magic from death itself. He was so powerful; with magic beyond his comrades’ wildest dreams and an army made of the dead- thus, any solider fallen while fighting against him was raised to fight for him. - That his enemies didn’t hesitate from using any power against him, the ones in peace with him feared him, and his allies suspected him. And when all abandoned him, he declared war on life itself, and started teaching his ways to eight followers, creating the first coven of the necromancers cult, which I was about to join.
A year has passed, during which I have learned so much, actually, as the master pointed out, I was exceptionally talented and fast grasping in the subject. I completed the first of the four levels of studying, the background, moving to the theoretical learning, the part where it starts to get interesting. “you have proven your value, apprentice”-started the master- “and I shall reward you with two prizes, first, from now on, you will no longer be called apprentice, you will be called assistant, and second-“he got up, exiting the study and opened the black door to his quarters –“From now on, you will live in the inner quarters, here, let me show you your room.” I followed him, the door opened to a central room that opened to five other rooms-“the first one to the left is my study, the second, my private chambers, the first one to the right is yours, the second, the room of practical training, in the middle is the library, here are all the keys you need, what you can’t open you shouldn’t open, everything else is allowed, we will start tomorrow.” He explained and left, leaving me the keys, I entered my room; it was large and contained everything I required.
The theoretical studies ended quickly earning me the name son. And then I learned the practical magic, I also was presented at events to other necromancers and their “sons” all of which were older than me in at least six years, I was young, strong, and talented, and I was happy. Then, one day, the master visited me at night, saying-“son, I have completed all I had to teach you, now, you will go to the place where only the worthy survive to become necromancers, don’t take a thing with you, we go tonight.”
I came to the GROVE but I will not speaking of what happened, all I’ll say is that- thirteen of us entered, two got out, we slept on cold floor and ate ash, we were stripped of everything, leaving our soul bare and naked for all to see and then they broken us to rebuild us, and after that, we knew our real names.- when I came back, kreyl was thrilled to see me and so was I to see him, we were brothers now, I spent my time reading the most powerful, darkest of his tomes.
One night I founded the darkest of his books-‘Netharn Gresdin’- or ‘soul eater’, when I founded the description of a certain ritual, I’ve seen the truth. On my way to confront kreyl, I went through the hallway where I first lived. This time, the doors of the left side broke open at my command, revealing the terrible truth, first, the bedroom, whose walls were covered in writing of blood, madness. Then the training room, in which, the machines and weights were assigned to chains and torturing equipment, control. Then the dining room, the food in the barrels was mort flesh, the well was dripping blood, symbolizing the truth. The boy’s cold emptied body laid there.
I stepped into the library, kreyl was already waiting there-“kreyl, viper, you really have earned your name, haven’t you?”- I muttered –“cruel, untrustworthy, unreliable, filled with deceit and betrayal, you have taken my memory, you killed them all to achieve greater power, and when I survived, you decided to shape me into something that will supply you with even more power, like a lamb whose reserved for a special day, why?!”- He looked at me smiling, his expression was hungry, lustful-“you said it yourself, apprentice“-he spat the word- “for greater power! Power, there is no reason for wanting power, power is the reason, and it shall be mine!” then, the fight began, I had more talent, but it was no match for his superior experience and skill, it didn’t took long before I was on my knees. Then with a frightening hunger in his face, he casted a final spell, sending a magical red harpoon like bolt that sank into my chest, and sucked my soul out of me, I was close to die, when, on an instinct I realized that this magic works both ways, when I reversed the spell he realized his mistake, once connected through the spell the only thing that mattered was pure power, and I was stronger, and so I fed on my master’s soul.
But, there was a flaw, I didn’t know what kreyl did, which was that after, taking the soul, there is a second spell, who takes it power but destroy the soul’s will, kreyl’s soul now haunted me, I left his house, forever. Like all the other necromancers, I had to create a name to be called, because one’s real name is the key to one’s soul, and remains a secret. I already knew what to call I am Tarion- the dammed, Tarion Scarlet.
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