Rory

The stony shore was overcast and a promised rain loomed ahead while a young man and an old and wise wizard walked along the ocean.

"Lord Bigby--" the boy began. "Please, call me Belgarath. None of this ’lord’ business." He stroked his beard and kept pace using his walking stick. "If I’ve learned anything in my time of mentorship, it’s that a title doesn’t always garner respect." The wizard inspected the boy from under a heavy gray brow.

"Lord -- Mister Belgarath, I only mean to show you respect. You have much to teach me and I am eager to learn," The young man looked up at the old man with a hint of anxiety. No elder had ever treated him as an equal.

"I see great potential in you, boy. Fretting about will only bring you undue stress. Now," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "let us catch some fish." Belgarath slipped his sandals from his feet and sat where the tide met the sand. His apprentice did the same.

"Belgarath, we did not bring any fishing poles," the boy looked hesitantly out towards the endless sea.

"We do not need one." "Nor did we bring a bucket." "We do not need one." "A net?" "Boy, what did I tell you about fretting? Do you trust your master?" The old wizard never lost his patience. He was almost amused at the boy’s anxiety.

"Of course I do," the boy quickly responded, eager to show his willingness to learn. Belgarath shifted his gaze from his apprentice to the vast ocean. He closed his eyes and became attuned to the ocean life. "Your birth name."

"Yes?" The boy was confused as he tried to imitate his master’s cross-legged position. "Your birth name, given to you by your parents," his eyes still closed, "Rory, is it?"

"Yes, Lord-- ... yes. A family name." "Ah, yes. Your family served the Red King?" Belgarath asked with an arched brow. Rory shifted uncomfortably and stammered, "Well, yes, um- I mean, yes, my ancestors. They were loyal to the crown til the very end. They did not know what he he was to become...and-"

"Boy, calm yourself. No one knew. And you need not worry about politics with me. Although we may be knowledgeable, these things play no part in our duties. Our loyalties lie with the Realm, always," the wizard warily opened a slitted eye towards Rory and closed it again, focused on his task. "Breathe. Feel the current. Feel the granules of sand and water fill your lungs with each inhale and exhale."

Rory visibly calmed and attempted to follow instruction. He trusted the wise wizard and knew not to question his teachings. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He could hear the gulls flapping their wings, the soft crashing of waves against the rocky shore.

"I feel it -- the fish. The flow. Everything is..." "Connected, yes." Belgarath felt himself smiling. He was proud of the boy and knew he would be a quick study. "The fish. The sea creatures. They are aware of our presence. They feel. They want," Rory took in a slow breathe of astonishment. "They have wants, thoughts." Rory, wide-eyed, look toward his teacher. "You knew this? You knew..."

Belgarath met his gaze and gave a kind smile. "All sentient creatures have thought to a degree. There are creatures in this realm on a higher plain than you or I. The more you meditate, the more you will be able to tap into this connection. I will show you some minor spells to help you achieve a deeper trance. This technique will help you to understand and feel empathy. This is an important asset to any

wizard. When we use magic, we are tapping into the life essence all around us. We--"

A sudden feeling of dread came over the both of them. Something was wrong. Belgarath would not take his eyes off the ocean. "Boy," he said, "My staff. Get me my staff!"

Rory stumbled to his feet and grabbed the staff resting on a nearby rock. He ran back to his master and gave it to him. Belgarath used the staff to stand in the unsteady sand. Something was coming out of the water. Something ancient -- he could feel it. He could not tap into its feelings or thoughts however. This disturbed him greatly.

They both squinted their eyes in the morning sunlight to see the creature in the distance. It had a human shape but was too large to be a human.

"It’s a woman!" Rory yelled as he noticed her long hair tangled in seaweed around her shoulders and back. "She needs our help," he spouted as he began to run towards the waves, but Belgarath stopped him with his hand on his chest, never once taking his eyes off the woman.

"She does not need our help," Belgarath said as the woman was closer then, walking steadily, with purpose, onto the shore. Her eyes shone deadly determination and they were trained on the old man.

Belgarath stood protectively in front of his new companion. He had taken a liking to him since he arrived and he did not want the death of another young man on his conscience. He sensed something from her then as she neared. He could then see the sea urchins attached to her flesh, no clothing to cover her sex, and no signs of humanity in her at all. She was a full-blooded elf with black eyes and pale skin. Reaching seven feet tall, Belgarath had to look up at her as she stalked directly in front of him and took a firm stance, breathing heavily.

"You seek revenge."