Monday, January 28, 2013

Begin Fantasy Novel

As Patch the wizard guided the plow behind the horse he thought of all the spells he knew and didn’t know that would allow him to plow this field in less time and without breaking a sweat. This was a common past time for Patch; conjuring spells in his mind that he never actually conjures. He had given up that lifestyle years prior. It was just too much work, requiring too much diligence, and it was very, very dangerous. Once a wizard became known, once a wizard had a reputation, then all manner of folk came out the woodwork seeking out that wizard. Some wanted help. Some wanted to hurt. Some wanted to prove themselves in a dual.

Patch wasn’t even his current name. It wasn’t his wizard name either. His mother called him Patch, and he was called Patch while growing up. He considered it his one true name. A name like Patch would generate little awe in the world of magic. In fact, it would be a detriment. It sounded more like the name of pet. Besides, all wizards changed their names when they embraced their calling. The more syllables the better. Although Patch didn’t see much sense in more than three syllables; four or more syllables turned a name into a chore. Rastabelleon. Marticusassling. The ever powerful Sharagatamlasog. Gartalon he had named himself. The Wizard Gartalon. It sounded silly to him now. All wizard names sound silly to him now, but not in his youth. Gartalon held no special meaning; he had liked the sound of it. And since it had no real meaning it took on a meaning of its own based on the exploits of The Wizard Gartalon.

It had been 14 years since Patch last resided under the name Gartalon. Wizards mature young and typically die young. Sharagatamlasog had died particularly young. Patch had retired young, and taken up a new name. A name to hide beneath. Jask. He was known as Farmer Jask. He also changed his appearance, which were quite easily the most painful spells he had ever endured, far more painful than attacking spells from other wizards. 

The field finally plowed Patch stabled his horse, put the barn in order, and washed up for supper.

1 comment:

  1. Did he give up the life because of a failed spell? Lost love? Did he bring shame to his craft?