Garin Lightmist held his son’s hand tightly as they walked into the town. He wasn’t sure how much his son understood what was about to happen, but after looking into the options, Garin could see no other way. His son would not go to Thril Gandir. Marillis had been firm about that. Her own sister had gone, wound up losing visiting privileges, and they never heard from her again. She didn’t want that to happen to her only son, nor did Garin.
He headed straight to the temple, the boy still held one hand, and the boy’s clothes and a toy bear that he preferred were carried in a bag in Garin’s other hand. His own things for the overnight trip were in a bag he carried on his back. He’d have preferred to not wait until the last second, but Marillis didn’t want to let him go any sooner than she had to. Garin and their son had waited until just this morning before piling into the carriage going northeast.Â
They started up the temple steps. “Where are we going, Opa?”Â
They’d been over this before. “Remember when Oma said you were going somewhere safe and where we could visit you?”
The boy just looked up at him.
“This is going to be your new home.” He said indicating the temple.
“I don’t want a new home.”
“Shh,” Garin said, picking the boy up to carry him the rest of the way, hoping to keep him from crying and making a scene. “The people here are really nice, and they’re going to take care of you and teach you how to read and write. You want to read and write, don’t you?”
The boy nodded. Garin pulled open one of the big wooden doors. He stopped to ask the first person he saw who was wearing religious robes, “Where can I find Elder Elisabet Moll? I wrote and have an appointment. She should be expecting me.”
The man pointed, “The offices are over there. Hers is the first door on the right.”
Garin nodded and gave a small bow, “Thank you, Elder.”
He continued carrying his son until he reached the door. He put him down and held his hand while knocking on the door with his other hand.Â
He opened the door and brought his son in with him.
“Close the door behind you.”
“And who do we have here?” she asked, directing the question to the boy.Â
His son took a couple steps to hid behind Garin.
“We have a couple of other boys here. Maybe they’ll help him feel more at ease.” She looked again at the boy, “Would you like to meet them later? We all eat supper together.”
The boy didn’t answer, and continued to hide behind his father.
“I’d like to thank you again for taking him in. His mother couldn’t bear to send him…”
“Say nothing more of it. There are no such things as mages here. Only talented healers and helpers. You said his hands glowed yellow when he was tested?”
Garin nodded. The reflection spell was used on all newborn infants on their name days. Most babies reflected blue if they had magic, but sometimes other colors were reflected. His son reflected yellow, indicating he would be strong in healing magic. That fact alone had Elisabet’s interest from the start. She had stated more than once that magic was a gift, and the people of Naren had rejected that gift by creating Thril Gandir to keep the mages under control.
“Can I see your hand?” she asked, again talking to the boy.
Garin knelt next to his son, “It’s okay. She just wants to see how strong your magic is. She wants to teach you how to use it without having to send you to Thril Gandir. You want Oma and I to be able to visit, right?”
The boy regarded his father, then looked at Elisabet and held out his hand. He brushed a few stray strands of his dark red hair out of the way with his other hand.
Elisabet held her hand over his, leaving a few inches in between as she cast a spell. The boy’s hand began to glow a warm yellow. “Oh, he’s going to be very strong in healing magic.”
Garin smiled. “That’s what they said when he was tested.”
“Well, I want to teach him, but I need to know his name first.” Garin had mentioned his name numerous times in correspondence with her, but he knew her statement wasn’t directed towards him. She knelt in front of the boy. “Won’t you tell me your name? My name is Elisabet, but the kids usually just call me Elisa.”
The boy drew back slightly, but opened his mouth and spoke quietly, “I’m Isturon.”
“Well, Isturon, you have a nice name. Would you like to go see your room? Your Opa can come with us.”
Isturon nodded slightly, glancing at his father.
“Come on, let’s go see your room.”
