literature

Destane's Apprentice

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Chapter One
  Orphanage

It was high time for him to look for an apprentice.
Destane had been Lord of the Black Sand for a while, now, having overthrown the sorcerer-king who had previously ruled the land. Destane had then proceeded to consolidate his power, and had been busy with quelling the rebellions that had sprang up among the populace of the city state. He'd only ever intended for the whole affair to be a petty act of revenge, against one who had badly wronged him in his youth; but he'd ended up with a kingdom on his hands.
He'd been far too busy, for far too long, but the fact remained that he still required an apprentice. Destane had never gotten around to getting married, much less having a child of his own. Besides, he thought, smoothly sweeping through the Merchants' Quarter of Agrabah, such a thing is forbidden. Teaching magic to one's own offspring almost always sowed the seeds of favouritism and discord. In that same vein, it was not seen as a wise thing to get too close to one's disciple, lest they should be killed by a rival magician.
In the past, when wizards and witches trained their own sons and daughters, wars had begun this way.
Hence his foray into Agrabah.
It was not a journey he regularly made; preferring to either remain in his own lands, or to visit Getizstan, where he was unknown and could readily vanish into any crowd. Here, however, the Grand Vizier knew his by name and reputation, if not face. While Destane was hardly afraid of the man, he was also aware the Jafar was devious and ambitious, if nothing else. If he discovered that Destane was in what was, essentially, his territory, there would be hell to pay. Especially since the man quite literally had the Sultan's ear.
So, while in this land, he would use a nom de plume. It was safer that way.
He marvelled at how different Agrabah was to his own kingdom- Dark magic tainted the very air of the Land of the Black Sand, and the sky itself was haunted by a seemingly perpetual miasma. Considering the lack of sunlight, it's a wonder that I don't have rickets, he mused.
Not that Agrabah was a paradise, compared to his own lands.
This city-state had its own teeming slums, pestilence and crime. Although, all of those things were carefully hidden away, far from the rich quarter of the city, where foreign dignitaries and the like frequented. The areas lived in by the rich and by the poor might as well have been different worlds.
It was not here that Destane would find what he sought. Instinct told him that he should visit the slums. The side of the city that the rich pretended did not exist. It's rather like a nasty little secret.
It was a long walk through the covered walkways and richly decorated buildings of the Merchants' Quarter to his destination. He felt a desire to walk this way, and his instincts were usually correct.
Destane came to a halt at a low wall, the boundary that marked the beginning of the slums. Just beyond that wall was a small yard where a careworn young woman herded children of varying ages around her. Some she scolded, some she laughed with.
The sorcerer only caught snatches of conversation, as the laughter of playing children drowned out much of what she had to say.
It was an orphanage.
Something at the edge of his vision caught his attention: In a shaded corner sat a young boy, of around six or seven, separate from his peers. He was reading a book. It was only a thin tome, most likely only containing children's stories, but it was valuable, all the same. Books were a rare and valuable commodity, and most were obtained through the laborious process of hand-copying and original text. In libraries, they were chained to the shelves and were even worth their own weight in gold.
Someone rich must have given him the book, Destane mused. Perhaps a parent?
No, judging by his worn, albeit well cared-for attire, he was just as much of a foundling as the other children.
Which made him all the more remarkable: He could read, despite being so utterly poor.
Reading was not an easily acquired skill, for only the rich possessed books in abundance, and few of those aristocrats were less than loathe to share their knowledge. Knowledge was power, as the old adage goes; and knowledge of the possibility of a better life leads to pesky rebellions. Besides, most of the rich preferred the desperately poor to stay in their "proper place".
Destane had no idea if the boy had any magical talent whatsoever, and latent magical abilities often stayed dormant until properly stimulated. Still...the fact that the child could already read made it an enticing thought. The boy could, at the very worst, still act as an assistant.
Destane caught the young woman's eye, and donned a friendly sort of smile as she approached him.
Besides, he thought, if I get an apprentice from an orphanage, I won't have to pay the sorts of fees I would otherwise have to if I "bought" him off a rich family. Children with magical potential were seen as capital, just as much as a princess or cattle: They could be sold to a wizard or witch, and came under the same law as slaves.
The young woman took in his rich attire and gave him a questioning look. "Sir?"
"I... May I have a word?" Destane tried to look non-threatening. It was not an easy thing for the most feared sorcerer in the Seven Deserts to accomplish.
The woman raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you wish to make a donation?"
Destane shook his head. "No no, I wish to speak with one of your little charges."
"Oh? Considering an adoption?" She sounded quite enthused by the idea, and for good reason, too: They probably had too many children to look after, and too little food and water and bedding to supply the wards with.
Destane glanced at the small boy who'd caught his eye. "I'm considering it, yes."
The woman followed his gaze, and her eyes fell upon the young boy. "Aahh... Perhaps you should consider someone else. He's very...troublesome, if he he doesn't get his way."
Destane raised an eyebrow. The boy's got a bad temper? Nothing a beating can't fix. "Regardless of that, may I speak to him?"
The young woman nodded, and gestured to a gate on the other side of the rectangular wall, opposite where Destane was standing.
Destane could have simply re materialised inside the courtyard, but he didn't want to show off any magical ability, lest word of it should reach Jafar's ears. That was an annoyance he didn't particularly want to deal with, so he humoured her. Within moments, he'd passed through a small gate, and the boy looked up when Destane closed the latch with a click.
Regardless of his young age, his eyes shone with intelligence, and the gaze he swept over Destane was questioning, but unconcerned. As though this was a commonplace thing, to see a man dressed so richly.
The woman briskly strode over to the boy, and clasped his shoulder in what was meant to be a motherly fashion. "Mozenrath," she said, "this man wishes to have a word with you."
The boy -Mozenrath- looked at Destane with renewed interest. With curiosity.
   The woman smiled at Destane, and was briskly spirited away by a very small girl demanding attention.
Destane sat down on the bench Mozenrath was perched upon, reading the child's body language. He was wary- The way he subtly moved away from the sorcerer made that much obvious.
"Good afternoon," Destane said, cordially.
"...Good afternoon," the boy mumbled, a tad reluctantly. It seemed that he didn't much like dealing with others. He eyed Destane when he thought the sorcerer couldn't see, his expression somewhere between curiosity and distaste.
Destane almost chuckled, knowing what the boy meant by that look: Destane's silken garb was flashy, almost to the point of gaudiness, and was probably more extravagant than anything this child had ever seen.
The boy -Mozenrath, Destane reminded himself-, seemed surprised by Destane's apparent mirth. "What's so funny?"
"Your reaction to my...apparel," Destane replied, honestly. But if he's so blunt with me if I should choose to adopt him, I would smack him for his insolence. An apprentice, no matter how lowly, is a reflection of his or her master, and it would not do for others to think I am so...lacking in manners.
"I was...surprised to see someone like you in such a place," Mozenrath continued, unabashed.
The sorcerer arched one eyebrow, questioning, "Someone like me?"
Mozenrath leant closer to the man, and glanced around, as though to check that no one else was within earshot. No one was. "A wizard," the boy answered in a conspiratorial whisper.
Destane blinked. Was it that obvious? Has he somehow failed to conceal his true nature? No, certainly not- The woman who ran this orphanage hadn't thought anything was amiss. Destane wasn't even wearing the usual silk that most wizards of the silk road bedecked themselves in. No, the only way the child would have been able to tell would be if...
...If he does, indeed, possess magical talent.
Of course, that was no indication of just how much magic the boy might have, merely that he had some. It might even be an insignificant quantity.
Still... The possibility was tantalising...
Destane considered his options, and came to a decision.
Making sure that no one was looking, he reached out one gloved hand. Scarlet magical energy enveloped the glove, and an apple materialised out of thin air. The sorcerer carefully checked Mozenrath's expression. Instead of the fearful one Destane had been expecting, he saw a look of hunger spread across the boy's pale features.
And not just for the apple.
Power... Destane could relate to that.
"I was right," Mozenrath breathed, his eyes wide with excitement. He looked up into Destane's eyes. "Can...can you teach me how to do that?"
Destane dropped the apple into Mozenrath's waiting hands, and smiled broadly as the child hungrily sank his teeth into the fruit. "That and much, much more."
I hope this works- This is a fanfic I've been working on, and it's about Destane's past, and when and why he took Mozenrath on as an apprentice. No pairings.
© 2011 - 2024 amaranthine-eternity
Comments21
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Nina-Elric's avatar
:DDDDD

This is really well written. I know you must be tired of hearing comments like this, but it's the truth. And I think this is one of the first stories that I've read that gives Destane character depth, beyond the whole, "I'm a bastard, I beat children and small animals" thing. But you also didn't ignore the sadistic aspects, which is good!

I love Mozenrath so much. He needs more fanfiction!!! So I hope you plan to continue this.:)

Also, I was creeping on the above comments...I love Criminal Minds. (Reid!!!)