I wrote this story because I wanted to write a fan fic
involving my two favorite characters from the Nightrunner books: Seregil
and Thero. I thought it might be funny to imagine what the first
time they had met had been like. Chapter two is the same scene done
over, but from Seregil's point of view. I like to do weird things
like that. So here you are...
I looked up as the door swung open and a young man stepped into the room. Nysander smiled. 'Ah, Seregil. You're just in time for a meal. Sit down.'
So this was the Seregil whom Nysander was so often speaking of. His former apprentice. As he drew up a chair, I watched him from the corner of my eye. He looked to be about twenty, but I knew he had to be at least twice that. He had the power, in a measure, at least. And he was an Aurënfaie. Nysander had let that slip in one discourse about Seregil. Seregil wasn't extraordinarily tall, and was quite slender. His straight hair fell to his shoulders, framing a face that looked as if it would rather be smiling than serious. He plopped down on the chair and helped himself to a scone from the breakfast table we sat at.
'So who is that?' he asked, glancing at me.
'That,' replied Nysander, 'is someone I've been wanting you to meet. Seregil, this is Thero, my new apprentice. Thero, Seregil.'
Seregil's eyes widened, and looked disbelievingly at Nysander. 'I didn't know you had a new apprentice,' he said after a moment.
'I haven't had him for very long. And you have been away for a while.' Nysander smiled fondly at Seregil, rather like a father to a favorite son. 'I've told Thero quite a bit about you.'
'Really?' Seregil looked nervously at me. 'Not too much, I hope.'
'Not at all, dear boy.'
Seregil nodded, slightly suspicious still, it seemed. 'Mmm.' He leaned back in the chair and studied me. As I was pierced by that cold, grey stare, I could see an intense dislike in his eyes.
I didn't mind, because I was beginning to have the same feelings for him. I wasn't sure of the full reason, but I knew most of it was due to the plain, simple fact that I was jealous of him. He had Nysander's obvious affection. Nysander had never smiled at me like that. He had never called me 'dear boy'. I believed that if I ever left him, like Seregil had, he wouldn't speak about me half as much as he did Seregil, and not nearly so fondly. And sometimes, Nysander would look at me in a certain way that he had, an odd mixture of pity and worry in his clear blue eyes. Granted, I hadn't been with him long, but I felt certain that I would never be as close to him as Seregil was. I was Seregil's replacement. And I was jealous.
But then again, I was something Seregil was no more, and on my way to becoming something Seregil could never be. I was Nysander's apprentice, and I would one day be a wizard. It was the one thing that was mine, and only mine, between Seregil and I. I decided to use it to my advantage.
'I learned how to light a candle yesterday,' I said, just to see what would happen. I was, of course, referring to one of the higher magics that Nysander had said Seregil had not been able to master.
Seregil did not look amused.
I looked up as the door swung open and a young man stepped into the room. Nysander smiled. 'Ah, Seregil. You're just in time for a meal. Sit down.'
So this was the Seregil whom Nysander was so often speaking of. His former apprentice. As he drew up a chair, I watched him from the corner of my eye. He looked to be about twenty, but I knew he had to be at least twice that. He had the power, in a measure, at least. And he was an Aurënfaie. Nysander had let that slip in one discourse about Seregil. Seregil wasn't extraordinarily tall, and was quite slender. His straight hair fell to his shoulders, framing a face that looked as if it would rather be smiling than serious. He plopped down on the chair and helped himself to a scone from the breakfast table we sat at.
'So who is that?' he asked, glancing at me.
'That,' replied Nysander, 'is someone I've been wanting you to meet. Seregil, this is Thero, my new apprentice. Thero, Seregil.'
Seregil's eyes widened, and looked disbelievingly at Nysander. 'I didn't know you had a new apprentice,' he said after a moment.
'I haven't had him for very long. And you have been away for a while.' Nysander smiled fondly at Seregil, rather like a father to a favorite son. 'I've told Thero quite a bit about you.'
'Really?' Seregil looked nervously at me. 'Not too much, I hope.'
'Not at all, dear boy.'
Seregil nodded, slightly suspicious still, it seemed. 'Mmm.' He leaned back in the chair and studied me. As I was pierced by that cold, grey stare, I could see an intense dislike in his eyes.
I didn't mind, because I was beginning to have the same feelings for him. I wasn't sure of the full reason, but I knew most of it was due to the plain, simple fact that I was jealous of him. He had Nysander's obvious affection. Nysander had never smiled at me like that. He had never called me 'dear boy'. I believed that if I ever left him, like Seregil had, he wouldn't speak about me half as much as he did Seregil, and not nearly so fondly. And sometimes, Nysander would look at me in a certain way that he had, an odd mixture of pity and worry in his clear blue eyes. Granted, I hadn't been with him long, but I felt certain that I would never be as close to him as Seregil was. I was Seregil's replacement. And I was jealous.
But then again, I was something Seregil was no more, and on my way to becoming something Seregil could never be. I was Nysander's apprentice, and I would one day be a wizard. It was the one thing that was mine, and only mine, between Seregil and I. I decided to use it to my advantage.
'I learned how to light a candle yesterday,' I said, just to see what would happen. I was, of course, referring to one of the higher magics that Nysander had said Seregil had not been able to master.
Seregil did not look amused.