Veneficus: Stones of the Chosen Read Online Free Page B

myriad brightness tangled with incantations and sharp cries as the recurring images played themselves once again across the soaring thermals of his emotions. His loneliness and silence in the settlement, the pointing fingers and slurs of the other children, the indifference of his own brothers and sisters, the rejection of the settlement elders, his father’s beatings because he would not behave like the rest of them, his mother’s protection and understanding. At last he understood, could give full vent to the poignant scenes that had taken hold of his mind over the last few years, the continuously rolling action of an inner eye that had forced him into introspection, silence, and loneliness and made him a pariah in his own family and village. Now there was a meaning and a reason for it all, one that he was now beginning to understand. He had been chosen. He was a novice magician, a genuine tyro veneficus. It was a wonderful feeling. He really was different, but in the most wonderful way, and his teacher was to be none other than the legendary Merlin himself.
    Merlin watched and understood as the dawning took place in the young boy’s dark eyes.
    “It is a great honor and a relief to know that I am not mad,” Twilight said finally.
    “Yes it is, but an honor that must be strictly upheld.” The old wizard waggled a long, bony finger at him. “The temptations for personal benefit are legion in this business and must be steadfastly resisted. As far as madness is concerned, we all went through that stage at first until the reason for our differences was explained. It is perfectly natural to think that you are mad when everyone else is acting and thinking completely at odds to the actions and thoughts you have. It’s only when we begin to exercise some of these embryonic talents by manipulating folk, usually very clumsily at first, that we begin to destabilize their order and get into trouble. That’s why we are doomed to live on the margins of settlements, villages, and towns, outcasts forced to live the life of a hermit. When our gifts are in their infancy and lack the discipline of teaching and control, they can be frighteningly counterproductive and sow rogue fears in the simple minds of folk. As a consequence we are often perceived as ‘odd,’ and they have no alternative other than to banish us from their midst as they would any other common madman. That is what happened to you. Your father could see no alternative. Your presence had to be sacrificed for the stability of the rest of his family and, no doubt, the entire community of your settlement. The irony is that having banished us, they then plead for us to return from time to time so that our ‘oddities’ will manifestly save them from whatever dark demons threaten them next. This also happened to you on your journey here. It wasn’t until you were both threatened by the dark wraiths of the Savernake that your father realized the strength of your gifts.”
    “I am at least free now to learn, understand, and pursue my gifts. Tell me, from where does all of my knowledge come? I have never been taught to read or write nor had any guidance whatsoever. I just seem to know a great many things.”
    Merlin smiled. “These are some of the givens of the veneficus. There are the simple truths, such as all the chosen are born on All Hallows Day - you may recall me asking your father your birth date. Then there are the truths based around knowledge, with which we venefici are all blessed. These are necessary implants in order to absorb the difficulty of the enchantments. Without a good base of learned information you would not be able to appreciate how all the intricacies of the powers at our command fit together. Lack of knowledge cannot be allowed to divide us, or to prevent the swift absorption of the enchantments. You also have many other gifts that you have yet to discover, including total recall of everything that is or has been said to you. This means that