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The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5648

Updated: 2018-01-19 12:03


After carefully rinsing the injury clean, she returned to the main room where Wolloff stopped his reading just long enough to apply the first real bandage the gash had seen. The difference between the proper dressing and the coarse makeshift counterparts she'd been using was quite clear. Aside from doing a far better job of protecting the wound, it was worlds more comfortable, as it did its job without needing to be tied so tight that it numbed her fingers.

"Right, first light we begin with your training. Get rest, " Wolloff said.

Myranda fairly ran up the stairs. Tomorrow! Tomorrow she would take the first steps toward a new life! Imagine! In a few short months she would be able to save lives! Her mere touch would soon restore the stricken! She slid into bed with these thoughts and more rendering sleep all but impossible. The clouds outside hid the moon, casting her room into utter blackness. Eyes closed or open, images of a war-torn landscape hung in the air, with herself, dressed in white, one by one bringing the fallen back to health.

The aspiring wizard was suddenly torn from her reverie by the loud clatter of one of the shutters. She turned her head to the source of the sound. In the darkness, she could only just make out the open window to the south. Myranda stumbled to the shutter and inspected it. She could swear she'd wedged it closed earlier. Pulling it shut, she took more care to see to it that the window would not come open again. After making her way blindly to the bed, she slipped under the covers once more and tried to get to sleep. In a few moments, though, she felt a familiar weight drop on top of her.

"Oof. Myn! You know you aren't sup

y outside in the warm sun, and catch something to eat?" she said.

As Myranda gestured repeatedly to the window, Myn shifted her gaze to the broken shutter, which had once again come undone. A bird fluttered by. Myn locked onto the creature and darted out the window and down the wall in a twinkling. Myranda ran to the window and watched as the little dragon rushed toward the same stand of trees she had terrorized the day before.

Wolloff joined her at the window, concerned solely with the distance between himself and the dragon. As he watched he spoke, his voice rising as the overprotective creature moved further away.

"These books around you represent three lifetimes of tireless search. My grandfather, my father, and I have spent our youth scouring this embattled land for any scrap of knowledge that it could muster. Every hint of mystic knowledge available in the realm of healing has been assembled here. I will not allow all of that to go up in a puff of smoke because an uneducated apprentice could not follow orders and let her blasted dragon let fly a spark! Understood!?" he cried with growing anger.

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