The Phoenix Ring(20)

"Yok" he said.

Yok was a simple word, it just meant come, and it was a great spell for opening a door. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that Timothy decided to open the door, and the spell caught him instead.

The two boys slammed into each other halfway across the room, staffs and papers flying everywhere.

"Uh, hi?" Aidan said, trying to push himself away from Timothy.

"I swear, one day you’re gonna kill me with your stupid spells." Timothy said. "We're going to be stuck like this until someone fixes it. Can you reach my rowan wand?"

Aidan stretched his left hand, which was the only part of him not stuck to Timothy, towards the wand.

"Uh, no, I can't reach."

"Great, we're gonna be stuck like this forever. How could this possibly get worse?"

"Uh, guys, that's just wrong." said a female voice.

"Never mind, it just got worse." said Timothy.

"Hi Eleanor," Aidan said, his face pressed to the floor.

"Hi Aidan. What did you do this time?"

"The idiot managed to stick us together! What does it look like?"

"Do you really want me to answer that? What spell did he use exactly?"

"Just Yok." Aidan mumbled.

"Ok, I'll try to fix it. Eslang." Eleanor said.

The two boys fell apart, the last of the papers falling to the floor. Timothy jumped to his feet, brushing himself off, and Aidan slowly stood up.

"Thank you so much." Timothy said to Eleanor, who was trying not to smile.

"What's all of this?" Aidan asked, picking up some of the papers.

"It was our mail. We get the day off so we can read through it. These are for you."

Timothy handed Aidan two envelopes. The first was a golden color, with a red seal stamped with an R on the back.

Aidan was more than a little surprised, and so opened that one first.

Inside was a piece of parchment with long, wavy handwriting. It read:



Aidan Rune,



We all hope that you managed to escape the fire without any injuries. Don't worry, no one else was hurt, though there were a few singed eyebrows. We are glad to hear that you were accepted into Fort Phoenix, though you will be greatly missed. You would have made a great Ranger.

If you ever need our help, feel free to put out the word. We'll hear about it.

Good luck,



The King's Rangers



Aidan put that letter down and picked up the other envelope. It was far less extravagant, there was no seal at all.

Aidan pulled out the parchment inside and began to read the familiar handwriting:



Aidan,



I am so glad to hear that you are doing so well. You had me worried for a while. They sent someone from the castle to explain that you were going to learn how to use magic.

The orphanage is doing fine, we got four more boys this month. We have also started to receive a bit of money from the castle, since you are doing something so important. When will I get to see you again?

I'll always love you,



Your Mother



P.S. I know you are still angry, and now probably wondering who your father was. I have many regrets about him, but you are not one of them. I wish I had more information for you.



Aidan felt more than a little homesick when he smelled the familiar, implacable, scent that meant his mother had been cooking, though it was quickly replaced by the usual rage.

He gently put the letters under his cot and turned to Timothy.

"What else are we going to do today?"

"Well, I hope you're going to prepare yourself, I know I am." Timothy said.

"Why?" Aidan asked, puzzled.

"Because," Eleanor answered, her voice tense, "Tomorrow's your calling ceremony."





6





Aidan stood in front of the entire assembly of Fort Phoenix. Many of the wizards were winking at him. Almost all of them had come to him before the ceremony to ask for his apprenticeship. Aidan had not guaranteed any of them.

Now he stood before everyone, right outside the entrance to the vault, which looked eerily like a tomb in the morning mists. Timothy was next to him, with Edwin standing behind them both. The younger boy's knees were trembling slightly, and Aidan saw him clenching a rowan ring in his robe’s sleeve.

The robes were white, with gold stars aligned so perfectly they could only have been made by magic. The boys wore matching white (slightly girlish) shoes.

Timothy was up first. As Edwin began to read the list of ancestors, he kept looking distractedly up at the sky, as if he was expecting something. Aidan noticed the old warlock had a bandage on his head and his leg was propped up with a stick.

He probably fell up the steps trying to get to dinner, Aidan thought, with a little more malice than was necessary.

"Do you, Timothy Ashdown, agree to use your magic only to serve Sortiledge, to never harm those weaker than yourself, and to treat all the races fairly and without bias?" Edwin asked.