2: A Stranger at the Festival - Part Seven
“Hmm,” said the old man. “Would you like to be taught? Would you apply yourself with diligence? Would you prove yourself an apt pupil?”
“Yes, sir, I would. Really, I would try very hard. I promise!”
This was almost too much for Felanar. Not being old enough to be a fisherman was hard to bear. He never could have dreamed, however, of what Ravesfel seemed to be holding out to him. Could it be that he was really going to learn to use a sword? And be an archer? The unlikely aspect of a total stranger offering these treasures hardly crowded into his mind, too overwhelmed was he at the prospect opening before him.
Alak was beyond mystified at this turn of events, and couldn’t make out how his younger brother was getting these privileges without so much as a nod in his direction. He wanted to blurt out a “What about me?” but Ravesfel had too commanding a presence for Alak to dare to utter a word. He had heard stories about Ravesfel, rumors told by men at the Inn, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to check the veracity of the rumors at his own expense.
“Harrumph,” replied the old man. “I suppose I’ll have to see if that is true or not. You just remember now, you promised to be diligent. The Regent doesn’t want servants who aren’t diligent!”
“Well,” said Ravesfel with a smile, “it was good to have met you, Felanar. We’ll be seeing each other again, no doubt.”
With that, the old man walked off with a surprisingly strong and rapid gait. Again Felanar thought to himself that he was not as old as he seemed. For a long time he stared at the retreating figure and marveled at their conversation and wondered what it all meant. What a curious man this Ravesfel was! Did he mean all those things? Was he going to be taken from his family to serve the Regent? Was he really going to get that training?