Were living in a wonderful time, Walter, the Mentor told me. Now everyone can be anyone. The era of secret societies and ancient mysteries has sunk into oblivion. Now you can shout on every corner that youre a wizard, or vampire, or wood elf. However, there will always be those who will believe you and not condemn you to a mental hospital. But no one will take you seriously. We are a part of history, and its not bad at all. We no longer have to hide. We can live among the people, and they think we are just friendly madmen, or freaks if you like. You choose whoever you will become to them.
Theres one more thing, he said. There is no absolute evil as well as no absolute good, at least to my knowledge. We choose a side. Some of us will always be stuck at the Crossroads, where there are no sides and all the creatures are equal.
Which side are we on? I asked.
Let me put it this way, Walter, he said with a sly grin. It is much more interesting to be a bad guy.
Now, I would say that its easier to be a bad guy. But despite all the pain he inflicted on me later, and how he treated me and those who were dear to me, I still saw him as a kindred spirit. Knowing the truth about him, I still felt we had the same philosophy and I still do.
The Mentor told me that our power has different manifestations, though we can all influence the material world and the minds of living beings, but in a different way and to a different degree. My path was to create illusions and the Mentor could control weather, which I witnessed first-hand a little bit later. You should have a strong body as well as a strong spirit, he told me.
He taught me to fence and hunt. I studied martial arts and philosophy, languages and history, physics and chemistry. What the Mentor told me differed from what I learned at school, but it was much more interesting. I was rediscovering a world that I always knew, and I realised that I didnt know anything at all! I felt an irresistible desire to learn more, to know more. More, more, more!
Since the day I became the Mentors apprentice, I stopped working for him. I had more free time, which I happily spent exploring my new home. What I had taken for a small one-story burgundy painted farmhouse, was, in fact, a huge medieval castle with towers, stone staircases and passages, and endless rooms, doors and windows. Step by step I was trying to understand this phenomenon, and gradually I began to get used to the idea that in this world even the impossible was possible.
The castle was gloomy and cold. The Mentor occupied just a couple of rooms in the south wing, and the rest were empty or locked. The wind howled through the long corridors with darkened walls and ancient suits of armour covered with dust. Heavy velvet curtains embroidered with gold hadnt been opened for hundreds of years. The smell of damp, mould and old age wafted from every corner. Hundreds of priceless artefacts were rotten, destroyed by time. I wanted to clean out the debris, to open the curtains and let the fresh breeze into the dark stone rooms. But when I approached the Mentor with this idea, he said, Why do you care, Walter? This castle has been dead for many years. Spend your time on education. It is more important to you now than raising dust and digging out this junk.
And so I studied.
11
Winter was coming. The first frosts fell. Heavy clouds were hanging over the castle. Now and then the cold, drizzling rain painted the already gloomy landscape into depressive black and brown tones. I had no desire to go outside in such weather. Although inside wasnt much better. Living rooms were heated by the fireplaces, but it was still pretty cold. My fingers and feet were always freezing. I know Ill never forget that feeling.
I spent all my time in the Mentors study. When he was at home, he was sitting at his desk writing something, or giving me lectures. Sometimes he gave me books that I had to study myself. He had lots of books, old and new. Books with notes, comments and bookmarks. He was serious about my education and was strict in testing me. As a rule, that happened on Tuesdays. He took his chair by the fireplace and started to ask questions on whole topics. Our conversations lasted several hours. He made me think, analyse, evaluate, and scolded me when I was just trying to memorise something. We argued, joked and disputed. What a wonderful time that was in my life I wish it had lasted longer.
As before, the Mentor was often away for a day or two and sometimes for a whole week, but I was never alone. Somewhere in the castle there were servants, although I never saw them. How else could it be explained that every day at certain times the dining table became crammed with fragrant and delicious food? There was always enough to feed a dozen guys like me. And how else was it possible that every evening a hot bath was waiting for me, and my clothes were always cleaned and ironed? And how they could do it without electricity was another question entirely.
Also, I had Alicia. I guess her job was to make sure that I didnt do anything stupid. But I didnt. I wrapped myself up in a woollen blanket and sat with a book on the old couch in front of the fireplace. Alicia was lying with her head on my lap, pretending to be asleep. I was stroking her and telling her about everything; some new stuff Id read or some dream Id had at night. Sometimes I spoke to her about Sunny, and one day I noticed that it had become easier to think about him. He felt alive to me, somewhere in a past life. Did I ever have a past life? Or had I lived here for hundreds of years, listening to the winds howling in the corridors and the logs crackling in the fireplace.
Weeks went by, but I didnt notice. I was living somewhere at the edge of reality, and I was lost in my books. I didnt know the date, the month or even the day of the week. Once, in the middle of the night, some flashes of light woke me. I went to the window and saw fireworks in the distance. New Year had arrived. I leant my forehead against the glass. It was as cold as ice. Alicia stood next to me with her paws on the windowsill and looked out of the window. I felt sad. I remembered last Christmas when Sunny and I were standing in the crowd in front of the town hall and were counting the strokes. I remember I wished then that Sunny would stop taking drugs and that something interesting would happen in my life. Well, sometimes wishes do come true.
Alicia whimpered softly and I closed my eyes. Blood rushed to my face and was throbbing in my temples. My throat was dry, my heart was beating faster and faster, and the tension in my head grew. I put my hands on the windowsill and clenched my fists. I was losing control. The ground was slipping from under my feet. I thought I was going to cry or lose consciousness, but suddenly the glass cracked and shattered into many pieces. Fresh air hit my face and I jumped back. My self-control was returning, but too slowly. My hands trembled, and my legs refused to hold my weight. Alicia looked at me and pricked up her ears. Was she hurt? I examined her from all sides. She was fine, but I wasnt. My right cheek was bleeding, but in my current condition it seemed so trivial, so I patted Alicia on the head and went back to bed. Alicia lied down beside me and began to lick the wound on my cheek. The pain gradually subsided, and I found that I liked the feel of her rough tongue. Then she buried her nose into my neck and made a soft noise that sounded like dont be sad. I hugged her and soon fell asleep.
The next morning, the chatter of my teeth woke me. Sleeping in a room with a broken window is practically the same as sleeping outside. I tried to fix the glass myself, but to no avail. I didnt have enough magic for it. So, I went searching for something to fix the window with. I wandered from room to room but couldnt find anything suitable. Alicia was following me like a silent black shadow. I walked through a room filled with antique cookware and broken china, and into a large hall. The afternoon sun was streaming through the curtained windows, driving away the darkness and illuminating the walls which were covered with antique muskets and swords, maces and spears, rapiers and crossbows.
The next morning, the chatter of my teeth woke me. Sleeping in a room with a broken window is practically the same as sleeping outside. I tried to fix the glass myself, but to no avail. I didnt have enough magic for it. So, I went searching for something to fix the window with. I wandered from room to room but couldnt find anything suitable. Alicia was following me like a silent black shadow. I walked through a room filled with antique cookware and broken china, and into a large hall. The afternoon sun was streaming through the curtained windows, driving away the darkness and illuminating the walls which were covered with antique muskets and swords, maces and spears, rapiers and crossbows.
On one of the walls there was a huge painting of a battle scene. A castle in the background reminded me of the Mentors home, but it was engulfed in flames. In front of the castle was a rider on a black steed. His dark armour and copper tinted hair glistened in the firelight. His face was contorted with rage and his eyes that piercing, cold stare. I saw that same look every time I looked at the Mentor. In one hand the rider was clutching a spear, and its tip had pierced the chest of a knight, who was lying on the ground. This knights blond hair and pale armour were stained with mud and blood, but he was not defeated. It seemed that he was trying to repel the attack with his sword. I went closer to examine it. The blade was beautifully engraved with an inscription in Latin, but I didnt have the knowledge to understand it.
I looked into the face of the white knight. The paint was faded and peeling in some places, but his eyes were alive and full of determination. It seemed to me that any moment he would come to life. I was fascinated by him. The artist who depicted the triumph of the black rider was certainly on the side of the white knight. And so was I. My heart was overflowing with pain. I didnt want the white knight to die. I reached out and touched his painted forehead. It was cold and dusty. Alicia, who had been standing next to me the whole time, suddenly growled and attacked me. She sunk her teeth into the hand that was touching the wall. Her grip was firm and deep, but short-lived. She let go of me almost immediately.
What are you doing? I shouted, rubbing my wrist. It was bleeding. She was just staring at me. Mad Dog!
I went to hit her, but she didnt move.
Ah, to hell with you! I waved my hand and walked away. She wanted to follow me, but I turned around and yelled at her.
Get out of here!
She froze.
Do not follow me, dumb animal! Get out!
She sat still, and I went into another room and slammed the door with all my might. A piece of plaster fell on my head. I shook it off and looked around. In a mildewed corner, there were a few canvases covered with cobwebs. Years later I learnt that these were the priceless works of sixteenth century masters, but then I just used them to fix the window and warm up a little.
After that incident, I ignored Alicia for several weeks. I let the mysterious servants take care of her. I didnt need such a crazy dog. Besides, the Mentor had been away for so many days that I had even started to worry that something had happened to him, but then he returned.
It was a winter evening. A snowstorm was howling outside. I was sitting at his desk drawing a medieval castle with a quill pen. My fingers were stained with ink, but I had nothing else to draw with not a single pencil! Sometimes I felt sorry that Id left my comic books at home in Germany. What adventures I could imagine for my beautiful Amazon now!
In came the Mentor. He was wearing a summer shirt and shorts that were definitely not appropriate for the blizzard that was knocking on the windows. The Mentor looked tanned and fresh. Alicia, who was lying on the coach pretending to be extremely bored, immediately jumped up and sprinted towards him.
My dear, he said as he patted her on the head. Hello, Walter. He came up to the table and put a pile of books in front of me.
The books were new with that wonderful smell of paper and ink. Economy and Law. Astonished, I started to leaf through them. They were so different from all the books I had studied before, and they certainly didnt belong in this world I was living now.
Soon you will need such knowledge, said the Mentor.
I wanted to ask him something, but his attention was fully on Alicia. He got down on his knees and stroked her. For a moment, I had a feeling they were talking.
That night, she came up to me and buried her nose in my neck.
You want me to forgive you? I asked.
She put her head on her paws, and her eyes were glistening in the darkness.
Oh, you know I cant stay mad at you forever, I said, but dont bite me again, ok?
She nodded and made a quiet sound.
Missed you, I said as I stroked her. Though she couldnt answer, I was glad that she was near.
12
The next day began with another surprise. When I came down for breakfast, I found a boy sitting at the table. He was younger than me by two, maybe three years. His clothes were simple, a sweatshirt and jeans, but his face was unusual. There was something Eastern in it and at the same time something Western. He had black oriental eyes and high cheekbones, short raven hair and a tan, which one can get only in the southern latitudes. Id never seen such a beautiful person before. He was eating rolled oats with an unbelievable appetite.
Hallo, I said in German.
He immediately stopped eating and looked at me. For some reason, he looked confused.
Hello, he said, but in English.
Walter, this is Reeve. The Mentor appeared as usual from out of nowhere, Reeve Raven, my nephew. Reeve, this is Walter. I told you about him.
Reeve nodded. His slightly slanted eyes were serious, and he didnt smile, but he looked quite friendly. I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was relieved to see someone who was about my age; but on the other hand, I always felt some antipathy towards strangers. Moreover, it turned out that the Mentor had already spoken to him about me, but I knew nothing about him. I sat down and took my plate.
Where are you from? I asked in English.
Over the last few months, I had practised my English and I could now communicate quite well.
United States, he answered.
Oh, a long way from here then, I said and looked at the Mentor. I didnt know what else to say to this strange guy.
Reeve is going to stay with us for several days, said the Mentor, and then we will send him off to Oxford or Cambridge. Reeve is going to be a lawyer.
Reeve looked confused again, and I felt a hint of jealousy. Id got used to the idea that the Mentor was mine and only mine. I didnt even think that somewhere outside the walls of this castle he had another life. Not one of us said a word more. After breakfast, the Mentor called me into his study and said,
I want you to make friends with him. Hes suffered a terrible tragedy, lost his entire family. Im sure you can understand how that feels. I nodded. I understood. He is not very sociable. I want you to talk to him. It will be good for both of you. At that moment, I was amazed by how much he cared about the boy, but now Im amazed at what a heartless and insincere person he actually was.
After breakfast, Reeve and I were riding through the forest on horseback. The morning was cold. The trees were covered with frost that glistened with hundreds of colours in the sunlight. The crystal garden. Lifeless and cold. For some reason, all of this reminded me of that cloudy day in the park when Sunny confessed to his addiction and I felt embarrassed. I felt a cold lump in my breast, and with every minute, it was getting heavier and heavier. Reeve was riding nearby, immersed in his thoughts. He stared ahead, his eyes were cold and resolute.