Gentle Readers, you’ve already met Brand and know that he’s a student under the village healer/magician. And you know Brand was assigned a task to write every day into a workbook which the Magician read and critiqued at each lesson day. Against my previous intentions, I shared some of Brand’s writings. Having done so once, I find it easier to decide to do so again. That’s the way things are with people, isn’t it?

Well, truthfully, this story isn’t exactly from his workbook, but it is nearly so, and eventually did become part of the book. As you shall see. –The Scrivener

ONE LESSON DAY

In the morning, Brand arrived at the house of the Magician for his lesson day. As usual, one of the first things to be done was to turn over his notebook to have his writings reviewed. After that, he normally would be given a number of chores to accomplish for the Magician while the sage read and considered Brand’s scribblings. But this day happened a bit differently.

“Master, I’ve fulfilled the assigned word count and then some but…” Brand handed over his workbook. “Sir, there’s a great deal more that I might have written and… to be honest, sir, I’d meant to save it so as to make my next assignment easier, having already in my mind what I should write about.”

“So?”

“Sir, I think that you would normally approve of such forethought.”

“You’d be correct.”

“But, Sir, I don’t think I can wait that long, now. I want to talk about it.”

The Magician had begun to leaf through the notebook to find the beginning of the latest essay but here he closed it, laid it aside, and seated himself in his comfortable chair. He gestured and said, “Pull up your stool and be seated. Now, then, tell me about this thing that cannot wait.”

“Sir, the night afore this last, I had a dream. It wasn’t like any I’ve had before and when I woke, the memory of it did not fade as most dreams do. All that day, bits of it returned to my thoughts. Came night, I prayed that it might come to me again but it did not. Instead, there was a dream that I was old, and at one point, my grandchildren gathered around me and begged me for a story. I started to tell one but they all shouted, “No, tell us about the dragon.” Then I awoke. I couldn’t go to sleep again and that former dream returned to my mind. I decided then that I must try to tell you about it today.”

“Well, then, if this thing plagues you so, I assume your mind will not be on the careful completion of chores or lessons until it has been dealt with. So… compose your mind and when you are ready, tell me what you would have me hear.”

Brand closed his eyes and began the short ritual the Magician had taught him as one of his earliest lessons. How to clear the mind of clutter and anxiety, to relax mind and body, so they can work together to serve one’s will. Breathing in. Holding. Slowly breathing out. When he felt calm flow through, he opened his eyes, noticed the Magician watching him through half-closed eyes, and he began.

“Sir, I’m sure there must have been more to the dream than I yet recall. And I know when I say that, that it’s an unusual thing to say.” Brand had noted the Magician raise one eyebrow. “Dreams are supposed to fade, so we quickly recall less and less as time passes. It seems to me this dream reveals more of itself as time passes and I think on it.”

The Magician’s face resumed its previous almost-sleepy composure. “Accepted. This is why this dream stands out to you. Proceed.”

“Sir, that is partly so, but there’s more. My mother says you know the Lady Ember. Who she is...”

“That is so. We’ve met.”

“Do you think that she’s… fascinating?”

“We have a professional relationship. I shall let that question pass.”

“Yes, sir. Well, sir…she… fascinates me and… I think sometimes I fascinate her. Is that immodest to say, sir?”

“You speak with honesty. I shall not make such a judgment. Where is your dream in all this?”

“Sorry, sir. The first part I remember of the dream… thus far… was that it was dark night and people were all running to your house for it was on fire. Not just a little fire, it was a blaze! As though nothing would be left. I made my way to the fore of the crowd and just then a woman all in black with long black hair… stumbled out of the fire! She seemed to be all a-smoldering and fell to the ground, coughing smoke, and then laid still. How she could have come out from inside and not be dead and burnt to ashes seemed a miracle. People stood back and they made frightened sounds but I ran to her and picked her up. She was still too close to the flames, you see. As I ran from the fire, with her in my arms, she coughed more and I was amazed that she still lived. I carried her to my own house and laid her on my bed. That was when I realized who she was. It was the Lady Ember. But deformed.”

“Deformed, you say?”

“Yes, sir, that’s how it seemed. You know her face, the gems, her horns. Suddenly in the dream I had water by me and a washcloth. I was bathing her face, wiping away the soot. But with the soot, her gems were coming off. When her face was clean, they were gone. All were in my hand, in the dirty washcloth, glittering in the lamplight.”

“What happened then?”

“I remember that I fell on the floor by the bed and cried.”

“Was that all?”

“No, sir, but there seems to be some piece missing because next I was still caring for her but it was daylight. Whether the next day or later, I don’t know. But she was awake and speaking. She said, ‘For you. He said it could be done and I did it for you.’ I asked her what she was talking about and she said, ‘All my futures. Traded for one. One future with you, if you want me. And no future at all, should you not.’”

“Remarkable dream.”

“The next I remember, you were at my doorway and you handed me a bundle wrapped in cloth. You said, ‘I’m sorry now that I did it but she chose for herself. Aleric found that in the ashes.’ I unwrapped the bundle and there were her two horns. And then you said, ‘There’s no going back. But then, there never was.’”

The Magician sat a moment and observing how Brand bit his lip, decided that was all to be told for now. “There will be no more lesson for today, young Brand. There’s much to think on. Your writing assignment is changed, too. Take your notebook now, go home, and write down everything you can think of. Everything. Leave no detail out and when you remember more… and you will… write it, too. Don’t fret that parts will be out of order. We’ll set that straight next time.”

“Yes, sir.... Sir?”

“Hm?”

“Do dreams have special meanings?”

“Mostly they are rubbish, Brand. Mostly.”

“But this one?”

“No, Brand, not this one. Go write for me, now.”

~~~

“Those are all the Ember stories for you for now,” the Scrivener said. “Perhaps there will be more at some other time, if there is interest.”

The Scrivener closed the book softly wherein Ember’s tales were written. The Gentle Readers, both of them, ran away to play.