Aldric Fenn's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Aldric Fenn traced a symbol in the dust and forgot its name. He had drawn it ten thousand times. It unlocked the third gate of his craft, a secret no living scholar shared. Now it meant nothing. He pressed his cracked knuckles to the floor and breathed. The bark had climbed past his collar. Grey plates ridged the side of his neck, hard and cold. When they reached his skull, the moss on his antlers would take his mind, and every spell in his ruined books would die with him. He needed a student. That was the whole trouble. For forty years he had guarded his knowledge and taught no one. Pride, then fear, then habit. Now his own body counted down the days, and he had no one to pour himself into. So he called for help the only way left to him. He crushed dried petals in a bowl, spoke the summoning, and waited. Something small dropped through the smoke-hole and landed on his table. A sprite crouched there, no taller than his hand. A brown acorn cap sat over its ears like a helmet. Green vines curled up its bare arms and legs. It planted its feet, leaned back, and studied him with sharp eyes. "You're the bark man," the sprite said. "The forest talks about you. Says you're turning into a tree and screaming about it." Aldric ignored the insult. "I need to find a person. A pupil. Someone who can learn what I know before I lose it." He tapped his temple. His finger struck a patch of bark he did not remember growing there. The sprite hopped closer and peered at his neck. "That's bad. That's real bad." It tilted its head. "I can find you a student. I know every child and beggar and thief for miles. But you'll owe me." "Owe you what?" "A story I don't know yet." The sprite grinned. "I collect them. You've got a hundred locked in your head. When I bring you your pupil, you give me one." Aldric hesitated. Each spell he still held was worth more than gold, and the bark was eating them one by one. But he could not search the roads himself. His legs barely carried him across the room. "Agreed," he said. The sprite spat on its palm and slapped his thumb. "Then rest, bark man. I'll be back before you forget my face." It sprang to the smoke-hole and vanished. Aldric sat in the quiet. His hand drifted to the dust symbol. He tried once more to name it. Nothing came. The gap where the word had lived felt smooth and final, like sanded wood. He closed the book and did not open it again that night. A stranger would soon arrive at his door, sent by a creature he could not control. And Aldric would have to decide, fast, whether that stranger was worth the last true thoughts he owned.