"Not Yet," She Said
by Jakari Icedelve

... And there before me was a huge round mirror, seemingly built into the stone walls of the cave. Shiny and easily taller than a full grown man, reflecting back this disheveled traveler and her dismal surroundings. I stepped a bit closer, to get a better view of my clothes and face, when two clawed hands seemed to reach out of the mirror and yank me forward, knocking the breath from my already tired lungs.

I shook my head, regained my breath, and looked around, expecting to see more stone and cave, but instead found myself in the middle of a magnificent meadow. The grass and brush were green and brown, but no shade of either color I had ever seen, or seen again. It was almost as if they echoed an inner light, but not quite that either.

Surrounding this section of grass and small shrubs was a forest. A deep dark forest, from my vantage point I could make out nothing deeper than a few feet into the trees. The trees were familiar, oaks and maples, pines and willows, but in some way unlike anything I had ever seen. They were truly immense, even taking into account that I was sitting; the trees towered above any plant I had ever seen. Full of leaves, and glistening as if from a morning dew, each tree almost seem to glow with health (I know dear reader, but I can think of no other way to put on paper what my eyes beheld).

I started to get up as my breath had returned, and indeed I was feeling better and better by the moment when a woman appeared, as if from no where. At once lively and beautiful, but young with a definite feeling of great age, she was dressed in long flowing robes that gave no sense of the figure beneath. She looked me up and down, quickly but thoroughly and said, without ever opening her mouth, in a voice that seemed to flow all around me, "No my child, this is not the place for you, not now. When the seasons have changed and then changed back, when the bird swims and the fish fly, then perhaps we will be ready for you. Your need may seem great, but it is not for you we were placed here. It is not for you that we wait."

And with those words she lifted me up and flung me back, and I felt myself fly through the air and bang hard against a floor of rock, and as my head met this rock blackness engulfed me.

I came to slowly, feeling groggy and sore. I looked around and saw immediately I was back in the mirror room. As my vision cleared, and the aches and pains made themselves known, I noticed a large bruise on my forehead; positioned approximately where my head would have struck the mirror, had I not known I had gone through it. Or had I? I tried for several hours to make my way back to that place. I fooled with the walls and the mirror itself, but all in vain, for in the end I could find nothing to let me think this was anything more, or less, than a round mirror on a cave wall.

The Star Pupil
by Thaleles Darenal

As many know, the Illistim elves are unsurpassed in their knowledge of history and the arcane. Many do not realize, though, that while tomes on obscure and scholarly pursuits are replete, the great libraries of Ta’Illistim also contain numerous works of fiction, dating back to the time of the Second Age. While some are frivolous, written only for entertainment, others, like this one, hold an important lesson within their meticulous script.

Rulathas was a young elf during the height of the Elven Empire. Unlike most youths, and especially unlike most elven youths, this boy had his mind fixed on a singular goal: he wanted to be the apprentice of Serit, a very powerful wizard, and master of crafting magical devices.

Over the course of the last few centuries, Serit had been wandering the lands. He discovered lost knowledge and accumulated a horde of enchanted treasures. Now, after all those years of adventure, he wished to return to his home, and pass his knowledge on to one worthy of his secrets. Many thought he would never find this one lucky young Illistim, given that during his search, he eliminated nearly all of the city’s young nobles.

Unfortunately for Rulathas, he did not have the advantage of a noble’s wealth to grant him the greatest tutors to prepare him for whatever tasks Serit would ask of him. He had to gain all of his skill on his own, often spending late hours in the city’s libraries, studying the magical arts. Having no one to properly show him correct incantations and forms, his difficulties only multiplied when he attempted to utilize the abilities he researched. Many times he injured himself in his pursuits.

However, the young elf remained determined. He would not allow anything to stop him from reaching his ultimate goal. He saw Serit turn away others with much greater power than he, considering them weak, or unfit to practice magic. Though it seemed almost ridiculous that the wizard would do anything but laugh at him, Rulathas felt an undeniable need to attempt apprenticeship anyway.

Eventually, though still a boy, Rulathas reached what many considered to be an old age to begin an apprenticeship. He could not wait any longer to learn more. It was time to see Serit, who was still fruitlessly conducting his search.

The walk to the mage’s tower, though short, seemed incredibly long this day. The adolescent elf passed by the numerous villas belonging to the city’s nobility that surrounded his destination. He passed these homes many times, but now, the sheer size of some awed him. These people were his betters, and they did not even warrant a second glance from Serit. How could he possibly be so foolish as to believe that he would do any better?

Before he could truly consider turning back, though, Rulathas found himself standing at the tower’s large door. He had always seen the entrance from a distance, yet never examined it this closely. Though it appeared to be made from a deep black wood, it was actually a much stronger substance against those who were not welcome.

Surprisingly, as the young elf reached for the knocker, the entire door began to shimmer. It gradually grew indistinct until it was no longer there, providing the tower’s startled guest with a means to enter. The moment he stepped inside, however, the door was back in place as though it had never moved.

Looking around, Rulathas tried to become aware of his surroundings. All about him were the objects of his greatest fantasies. So many obscure magical artifacts filled the halls that it became difficult to distinguish one from another, or to even imagine the great power even one of them held. Tomes of knowledge, known perhaps only to Serit himself, filled the numerous shelves of the massive ground floor.

"Please come to the top," he heard a voice say in his head before he could fully appreciate any one of these treasures. He recognized it instantly as that of the wizard. He was slightly confused, though, as he had not noticed any stairs.

As Rulathas looked for a way up, the circular rug beneath his feet ended his search. He almost lost his balance as it began to rise straight up into the air. His gaze shot to the ceiling, afraid that he would be crushed against it, only to notice an opening shaped to fit his enchanted perch. What wonders could this, the man he wished to be his teacher, not create?

He did not find the answer to this question, but he did find himself staring into the eyes of this man almost too quickly for his comfort. The mage standing before him was a tall elf, who, though youthful like most of his kind, had eyes that appeared to hold an almost frightening amount of wisdom and life experience.

"Rulathas?" Serit asked, smiling at the apprehensive nod he received in response. "I am Serit," he continued, "welcome to my home."

Barely able to speak, Rulathas only managed to croak out a nearly silent "thank you."

The mage wasted little time beginning his test of the boy before him. His next words were, "Let’s begin with something simple, shall we?" Producing a small crystal sphere, he asked, "Why don’t you try to levitate this?"

This request left Rulathas crestfallen. Levitation was a trick most tutors taught their students very early in their training. It was also something that this young elf never attempted to learn, pursuing other avenues he felt were more practical.

Clearly, the boy’s emotions must have shown through on his face, as the wizard’s expression changed immediately to one of puzzlement. "What’s wrong, boy?" he asked. "Can you not do it?"

Rulathas merely shook his head dejectedly.

Nodding solemnly, Serit said, "Why don’t you show me what you can do?"

The young elf felt a bit of disappointment, thinking that he had already failed miserably, but tried his best to conjure all the powers he had learned to control.

After watching the few minor tricks the boy knew, Serit smiled. "You never had a formal tutor," he said.

"No…" Rulathas began to stammer.

"You taught yourself, then," the wizard cut him off. "You know, most of those who sought me out had years of experience under wizards who, in their own right, are quite powerful."

Rulathas knew what was coming. He did not raise his gaze from the floor to let Serit see his disappointment.

"That’s where they went wrong," the mage said flatly.

The boy’s head jerked up. He was shocked by this turn of events.

"I do not want a second-hand apprentice that some other fool has already ruined," the wizard explained. "Mind you, that does not mean I want to teach anyone off the street. I need someone with potential and drive. Obviously, you lack experience but have both of those. I would be glad to instruct you."

Joy welled up inside Rulathas as the full effect of Serit’s words hit him. He nearly fainted, stumbling to the ground. This time, his "thank you" was even more silent than his first. All he could remember after that was running home to inform his family of the great news.

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