You returned young caster and you bring someone new. All are welcome around the fire just like all are welcome in Ogresfield town. Now nestle yourself on this ground.
Pert your ears, this is a story of how the Shadow priest was steered into a self-belief and the belief in the spirit of every caster.
The shadow Priest said it would be easier for the tales to be told if from time to time they were not so embolden with misery.
So, this next tale may not be as visionary as the last. Yet, it's still an integral part of the Shadow Priests past.
How he was able to retain the light in his soul, the fire in is heart and how he tempers the darkness in his eyes.
The shadow priest first and foremostly despises the abuse of power. I'm sure by now with the stories so sour. You have begun to appreciate that of what he hates.
The goblins that transfigured, tales of fellow cast, necromancer quarrels and all the rest.
There are more stories with detestable malevolence yet to be told. For the sake of your sanity of which you grasp or perhaps do not even hold. We must wait for those stories truly grate the soul.
This story I implore thee to be slow to react for these are nemesis that are soulfully intact they are not demons but victims of the chaos spells imparted upon them unable to balance
their soul energy due to the darkness overwhelming them.
You see the sweet just ain't as sweet without the bitter. And that is difficult to hear if you are brittle, but ney you should be strong by merit of these stories and your own existence.
This story is about chaos spells and desistance and the repetition of chaos magic. How recurrence can be a phenomenon due to the pain of which someone has gone through.
Now think of all you hold dear and close.
Imagine those that give you shelter, food and clothes. Imagine there is ney a person that does that for you without ill intention.
Now the reason I mention this is due to the notion that the Shadow Priest was caught in a river of emotion when they locked in battle.
The Shadow Priest in firm conviction that he nay should tattle.
So, he rocked the corridors and halls whenever he could, this is the tale of the hall monitor of blood.
He had a friend yet to attend the academy he was at in the year below.
And with knowledge of the academy he had bestowed unto the friends mother that at his academy there were no shadow magic used upon the students.
A naive and bold promise to make and that is why the young Shadow Priest had to take action.
For inaction would render his word to have no value. Not only this a promise was everything to him.
Even only he had already seen that this was merely the tip of the iceberg.
And the elder Shadow Priest loved the innocence of the young one just the same as he loved the shadows in thee Shadow Priests eyes.
This love pure don't let malevolence enrapture you to forget our previous lesson on the begrudged and prejudgement.
Our young Shadow Priest for the first time would recognise that he could be a part of the battle against malevolence chaos and darkness.
And realised that at the core of the nemesis there is a damaged soul unless the demon king has already taken a hold.
The days went by, he settled into class some hassle and harassment but by no means was he a victim to incessant bullying.
And if any words in his class were said they were quickly chopped down by our shadow priests wit and he would hound any bully in his presence. No fear in essence.
From a young age he had been taught that all it takes for evil to prevail is for one good man to do nothing.
So, this in mind and the previous needs of keeping his promise the following occurred.
Although, in essence these things should never remain unheard.
The words that will cascade from my lips are darker than of which I expected.
For this young caster our shadow priest faced by chaos magic he was directed.
Each day our shadow priest boiled with anger until he had to embroil himself in the incidents.
Even though the other pupil cried to him for desistence the young shaman did not desist to cast chaos spells on a victim each day. In the academy toilets in a least peculiar way.
Whirlpool magic and water and air bending rendering the victim speechless and breathless. How many more of the pupils of the academy of magic knew of this the Shadow Priest would never know.
And one day his anger was enough to bestow a furious rage inside the Shadow Priest. You see his Father had left the house by the declaration of his mother.
Although this was not the only fuel for his fire. He had recently sat with the victims of Fellowcast. So, if you have joined me in the tales in the past.
You will no the rage that rose inside the shadow priest when he heard the feint cries for help bellowing from the academy chamber.
It was time for the Old Elvish lesson and he sat in his chair yet he knew that every Friday there was this pupils despair at the exact same time every week.
He uttered some elvish speech to the lady whoms heart he wished to beseech and left his seat. Although there was some structure to his orderly decant of the lesson chamber.
So, he reached his hand in the air and asked to be excused from the classroom saying he had to relieve himself.
Though what he was going to relieve himself of was not what the professor expected. Yet she was not able to detect it the anger in his prepubescent voice.
The Shadow Priest now believed he had no choice. Having heard the words of how doing nothing can have a domino effect on society.
He no longer thought lightly of his duties as a fellow pupil. And neither of the two shamans had a scruple . As our shadow priest skulked into the chamber lurking in the shadows.
All the while the other boy struggling to breathe being taunted and his legs writhed.
The shadow priest struck the shaman at the side of the alpha shaman. Smashed his chin against the porcelain. There was no magic he was endorsing he was using brute strength.
The little that he had acquired so hence pulling the scrolls on a Sunday. Blood sprayed everywhere the weaker shaman in despair. The victim finally able to come up for air.
And that's when the alpha shaman let go of the boys neck. He ran for his life in fear and to get a professor.
Yet there were still the minutes that would pass while they battle without magic and their fists clasped.
The Shadow Priests bones as weak as glass the armoured boar had left him this way. Though defeat was never our shadow priest's forte. With the soul magic surging and weakness purging.
Their shirts tare at the seams, there ties go flying in ribbon like reems.
They pushed away from each other and locked in gaze both in a bloodied haze.
You stand up for that maggot he screamed.
He is no maggot maggot our shadow priest retorted.
There is Silence for a moment.
That's what my dad calls me the shaman snorted.
You stand up for him no one does that on a whim. Why do you do that? He growled.
Everyone deserves the dignity of protection against those whom abuse power. Whispered the young Shadow Priest.
Part 2 the final part of this fairy tale is available...