A Few Colored Beads

It was long in the day, over a hundred days since Vayne had passed the Novice’s Trial and begun his training as a Novice. He sat in the Novice’s Study, a dusty, cramped old classroom connected to the library on the first floor. The room was small, but not as small as the Trial Room, and a desk and three tables were crammed into the room. Vayne was not complaining however, because he had a table all to himself. The other pupils did not want to have much to do with him, for he brutally shot down any friendly overtures.

The novices were all wearing robes of the brightest blue, but they did not wear the pointed hats of wizards; they were reserved for apprentice and above. At the moment, the four other novices were bent over big, heavy books, trying not to attract the attention of their rather volatile teacher. That teacher was likewise bent over a book at the large, heavy desk that he claimed as his own. Dennis was his name, and although he wore bright blue robes, he was not a happy person. He was among the most disliked people in the Wizards’ Tower, for he had a dangerous temper and gave brutal punishments to novices that displeased him.

Vayne sighed and leaned back in his chair, tipping it dangerously backwards. They were learning what was called Basic Magic, which had little to do with magic and much to do with learning about all peoples, kingdoms, and races of Gielinor. It was incredibly disappointing to Vayne, who deeply wished to just get on with the fireballs and lightning blasts. He glanced over at the candles that lined the wall, which were flickering feebly as if the cold aura of Dennis was smothering them.

Dennis stood up, and all of the students fell even farther into their books. Even Gafexeyl, a rather brilliant student who breezed through everything, stopped playing with a coin in his lap and returned to reading. His shadow passed over the first table, causing those there to stiffen up. However, it moved past swiftly, touching the second table for only a few brief moments before coming to rest at Vayne’s table. Dennis cleared his throat loudly, anger evident in his voice. His old face and dark brown hair and beard only magnified his towering rage.

Vayne did not even have his book open.

Vayne did not look up at Dennis, furthering his rage even more. He had a near overwhelming desire to simply swat the youth’s head so hard that it came off. The only thing that stopped him was his extreme dislike of the boy’s unkempt medium-length white hair and his fear that it would somehow dirty his hands. Instead, he brought from deep inside him his most terrible, mocking tone. “Ah, Vayne. I am sure, since your book is closed, that you have already read and memorized Gielinor Glossary IV: Letter I?”

Vayne stared up at Dennis with a look of superiority stamped upon his face for a long, drawn out moment. Dennis’s mood quickly turned from angry to infuriated. “Yes… Master Dennis.” He emphasized the word master in a mocking tone that would have made Dennis proud had it been uttered from his own lips. Instead, it made Dennis even angrier.

However, he calmed as he smiled wickedly. Today, he would make an example of this fool. “Very well then! If you would be so kind, please tell the class the regular habitats of the Imps and the name of the Elven forest on the western edge of the continent of Gielinor. Speak up now, so the class can hear.” He sneered down at Vayne, but Vayne still looked infuriatingly bored.

Vayne stood up, his blue robes rustling as they settled around his boney frame. His red eyes scanned the classroom for a few long moments in which Dennis’s rage returned more powerful than ever. All of the novices turned and stared at Vayne, three of them staring at him with satisfaction, ready to see him fall. Gafexeyl looked on with sympathy, but Vayne pointedly blocked him from his sight. Vayne blinked his eyes several times, looking incredibly uninterested at this moment, when any of the other novices would have died of embarrassment.

Then he said it, a sneer on his face; “Imps can be found prowling around Falador, Varrock, Yanille, the Karamja Volcano, and at the Saradomin Monastery, although there has been a recent surge of them at Draynor Village, which this fifty-year old book does not speak of. Oh yeah, and the Elven forest is Isafdar.”

The room seemed to go deathly quiet as the novices stopped breathing, afraid that Dennis, whose face was now beat-red, might turn to them and inflict upon them dire punishments for Vayne’s actions. Dennis seemed to struggle with words as he said them, primal growls issuing from his throat between them. “That... was very… very impressive. Vayne.” The way he said impressive seemed to be curse rather than a compliment.

Then his anger suddenly seemed to dissipate and be replaced by sheer joy. However, his voice turned even colder, seeming to the novices to come from Zamorak himself. “Congratulations, Vayne! You have graduated from Basic Magic. Your master shall be Wizard Grayzag… Report to him tomorrow morning.”

The novices gasped despite themselves. Grayzag was a terrible master, for he generally beat up his apprentices and then sent them back to restart Basic Magic. Tales were told by graduating wizards to their little brothers about the screams that issued from behind Grayzag’s door. This was Dennis’s ultimate punishment, for it always broke a willful spirit.

Vayne only nodded, smirking. “Yes. Master Dennis.”

--- Vayne wearily climbed up the last few steps of the extremely long, high staircase. He had just been forced to climb from the second floor, where the novices all slept, all the way up to the eleventh, which was the topmost not including the roof. Vayne leaned against the wall of the stairwell, his breath coming out in hard gulps. He was not used to much physical exertion and all of the free time he had he spent in the library, researching everything that had to do with magic. He regretted that a little bit now, looking down at his blue-covered skeletal chest heaving painfully.

Finally, when he regained his breath enough that he might be respectable, he opened the wood-and-iron door set into the wall and entered the hallway of this level. This floor, like most of the floors above the library and relatively new Runecrafter’s Guild, had the stairwell on the eastern side and a hallway bisecting two sets of rooms. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust, as the window on the other side of the tower was obstructed by a thick blue curtain.

After a moment he was able to see, so started confidently walking down the hall, his staff thumping on the hard stone. He glanced at the first two doors he came across, one which bore a picture of a man wearing some strange armor and shooting lightning bolts from his fingers and the other that bore an extremely old and moldy spinach roll nailed to the door. He pinched his nose at the smell of the spinach roll, immediately recognizing the handiwork of Wizard Traiborn, a supposedly very powerful old wizard who had perhaps lost more than a bit of his mind. A second look at the other picture allowed him to recognize the armor, the armor that Wizard Barksplit paraded around in, claiming that it was the best a wizard could get.

He quickly moved on, half to get away from the spinach roll, half wanting to get away from those two weird wizards. The second set of doors was more promising. The first door had a huge symbol of Saradomin etched on it with thousands of miniature lightning bolts. The second bore a flaming imp above what looked like a four-spoke wheel. Vayne frowned as indecision gripped him, but then he realized that a Saradominist Wizard would not spread the tales of torture that followed Grayzag. He turned to the door with the flaming imp and the wheel, and grabbed the door-latch.

Suddenly, the door launched open and something grabbed him roughly by the collar and thrust him into the room. He stumbled in, managing to catch himself by thrusting his staff into the ground and clinging to it with now shaking hands. The door behind him closed with a muffled bang. Dark shapes moved around the edges of Vayne’s vision, disappearing as Vayne shifted his gaze towards them. He gripped his staff tighter, knuckles paling to an impossibly white color. One hand grabbed the rune he stored in his pocket, ready in an instant to fire an Air Strike at any foe that congealed before him.

A voice called from out of the darkness, a rasping voice hard to discern from the cacophony of sounds buzzing about him. It asked a question; “Are you Novice Vayne?”

Vayne squinted, his head moving towards the sound, but he saw only darkness there. After a short moment, he replied. His calm and confident voice belied his inner fear. “I am Vayne, here to see Wizard Grayzag.”

The voice called one again, but from a completely different direction. “The Master is in his Spellwork Room.”

After the last echo from that sentence faded away blazing light suddenly appeared. It was just candlelight, but Vayne, whose eyes had adjusted to the darkness, it was near blinding. He covered his eyes with his robe as he fell back, stunned.

Then, realizing that someone might be watching him, he whipped down his sleeve and forced himself to look around, despite the fact that his eyes were nearly screaming with pain. However, he was alone in a painstakingly organized room of dark wonders.

A large table occupied the center of the room, but it held nothing upon his polished marble surface. Two smaller, long tables rested against a wall. Resting atop them was an assortment of potions of various colors and a complete, gilded set of tools of every sort that might interest a student of Herblore. Along one wall was a long row of mounted heads, each with a golden plate underneath that bore a name and a date. Foremost among these was a large, bright blue head that used to belong to a dragon. The rest of the space was occupied by large bookcases upon which rested large, leather-bound tomes. One bookcase was chained and locked and was completely filled with large red books.

On the opposite side of the room were three doors. The one on the far left looked normal, but the other two were cloaked in a darkness that defied light. Vayne opted for the first door, as the darkness could not be a good thing. He moved quietly, as if afraid that a loud noise might reawaken the voices in the shadows.

However, his hand was steady as he gripped the latch and opened it. He was immediately knocked backwards, but not by ghostly hands.

A huge demon, a Lesser Demon judging from the relatively small spikes sticking from its head, slammed up against the side of his steel cell, a red, clawed hand lashing toward Vayne and a bright yellow tongue hanging out of his mouth. Saliva dripped down from its mouth, a good eight feet to the floor where its large, black-clawed feet stomped the ground angrily. The demon fixed a bright purple eye, standing out so brilliantly from his red skin, and bared his large teeth threateningly.

Vayne stepped back, gripping the Air Strike runes in his pocket despite the fact that they would be rather useless against a foe such as this. However, reality crashed down on Vayne in the next moment, and he realized for the first time that the demon was inside a cage! He let out a deep breath of relief before turned and looking into the other half of the room, which was occupied by a table and two chairs, upon one of which sat a tall, dark, black robed wizard upon whose head rested a black Wizard’s Hat.

Vayne walked cautiously over to the wizard, hearing him muttering something to himself, probably refreshing his memory about some powerful and intricate spells. Vayne eagerly leaned over his shoulder, looking down at the page, but was disappointed immediately; it was not a spellbook. It resembled some sort of journal, with two pictures, one of a pyramid and another of a purple circle with an X through the center. The slanted writing of a wizard’s hand was evident, however, but that was all that was special.

Vayne frowned with displeasure and sat down next to the wizard, looking closely at the man’s features. He had a face that was not exactly old, but neither was it young. Two black, emotionless orbs sat deep in the wizard’s skull beneath fierce black eyebrows. A hooked nose extended over his raven-black beard, which was trimmed just enough so that it would not get in the way in combat. This mage looked impressive, as if he was hiding deep secrets; the kind of impressive wizard Vayne expected from Sedridor. However, Vayne scowled as the wizard ignored him completely.

Then, suddenly, the wizard stood up, closing the book. He continued to ignore Vayne, but he was no longer idle. He raised a battle-worn hand and unceremoniously launched a great Fire Wave, the strongest of the attacking spells known to mankind, at the Lesser Demon. The demon cowered before it was hit, but then it screamed out in agony. The wail went on for only a fraction of a second, however, as the great magical fire obliterated it. Not even ashes remained after that great display of magic.

The wizard raised his fist, which glowed with an eerie green color, and the Lesser Demon sprung back to life. It looked around, amazed and confused, but instead of resuming its roaring, it merely cowered back in a corner. It was pathetic, watching such a great and powerful thing become so weak.

The wizard then turned to Vayne, looking suddenly terrible and powerful. A completely awed Vayne just stood there, but he had the presence of mind to close his gaping mouth. The wizard looked Vayne up and down, frowning. It was as if he were a farmer, deciding if a pig was fat enough to be sent to market. Vayne firmed his jaw and glared at him with intense hatred, but the wizard either did not notice or did not care.

The wizard turned and picked up the book, depositing it inside one of his deep pockets, and then turned to back to Vayne, speaking in a strong and commanding voice. “I am Wizard Grayzag, but I may become ‘Master’ to you. This is my Spellworking room, where, if you manage to pass my test, you will be spending much of your time when we are at the Wizards’ Tower. I do not like to have apprentices, for teaching you pathetic idiots bores me, so if you do somehow manage to stumble your way through my test, you will be travelling with me on… errands. However, I, as a top wizard of the Wizards’ Tower, am obligated to take apprentices and pass on my knowledge. That doesn’t mean that I will teach any stupid piece of slime that walks in, however, so you must prove yourself!”

Grayzag paused, wishing to know what effect his speech would have on the young novice. Vayne glared at Grayzag with his disturbing red eyes. Grayzag smiled inwardly, this boy seemed to be out to prove himself, which was good as those who were generally did much better than those who were in for the fun of it. However, Grayzag stared down at him until Vayne finally nodded.

Grayzag nodded back and then continued. “Very well. I have one task for you to complete.” Grayzag reached into his robe and produced a gold-lined wand. “As you probably know, there has recently been an outbreak of Imps just north of here. They are mine, but they have gone rogue, as Imps are prone to do. They were on a rather important errand, but they decided instead of returning to me, they would have a little fun and hide in the forest. I require for you to obtain what they hold, five magical beads. Go out, kill them, and bring back the Black, Red, Yellow, Blue, and White beads.”

Vayne was about to nod in response, but Grayzag waved his wand, causing Vayne to instantly appeared amid circles of strange purple light at the front entrance of the Wizards’ Tower. Vayne turned, face livid because of the casual dismissal, and trudged down the bridge towards the Imps, ready to take out his anger on a few mischievous weaklings.

The noon sun beat down mercilessly upon Vayne’s now sunburned neck. Heat came down on him in incessant waves, unending and furious. Sweat poured down his face, and he used a sweaty sleeve to wipe the itchy liquid away from his eyes so he could focus.

He regretted even more that he had not exercised since entering the Wizards’ Tower, as he was being forced to do a lot of running now. The imps were tricky little creatures, running around in the underbrush and disappearing in puffs of smoke when Vayne got just a little too close. However, more than a few had been just a little bit too slow, their lives ending as Vayne launched perfectly aimed Air Strikes at their tiny little red backs.

Vayne leaned back against a tree, one of the many oak trees in the forest just south of Draynor Village, to rest for a moment in the sweet, sweet shade. Then he quickly jumped up, hearing rustling noises from behind the trunk. It sounded like something was beating against something with a tiny little sword; the kind of sword that an imp might wield. Vayne quietly, cautiously moved shifted his weight off of his staff and grabbed his runes out of his pocket.

He walked in near-silence, his soft shoes making hardly a noise on the grass, despite how dead it was. He sneaked almost all of the way around the trunk, his eyes catching the end of a dark red wing. Then his foot crunched down on a dead leaf that had fallen to the ground. The imp glanced over, his tiny, mischievous but demonic face registering a brief spasm of fear. Then he bolted; tiny goat-like legs moving fast as he dashed for the concealment of the undergrowth so that he could enact his disappearing spell.

Vayne snarled, lifting his hand and sending an Air Strike hurtling towards the imp. The imp was hit in the side of the back and was sent spinning for ten feet before he smashed against a tree trunk. His large-mouthed face registered an animalistic surprise and then a ripple of pain. Vayne fired another Air Strike and the imp dissolved into ashes, dropping one large, red bead and a tiny imp sword.

Vayne walked over and greedily snatched it up, placing it inside his pocket next to the Yellow, Black, and White Beads. Then he walked into the shade, careful not to step in the imp’s ashes, and leaned back against the tree, resuming his attempts to clear his eyes of stinging sweat.

He shook his head, puzzled. He was unable to find the Blue Bead anywhere. He had at least seen the Red Bead before obtaining it, as it was hard for an imp, who usually wore nothing at all, to hide something. However, he was not going to admit defeat. He gritted his teeth, smashed down his staff, and returned to his tracking and killing.

The moon reached higher into the sky, overtaking a set of stars known as Saradomin’s Staff and hiding them behind its large girth. The terrible heat of the day had changed drastically in favor of a bone-biting chill that Vayne’s robes did nothing to hamper. Vayne did his best to ignore it, however, as perhaps his hundredth imp blew away, dropping only a pair of shorts and a tiny sword.

Vayne’s face took on a look of absolute rage as he slammed his staff against the ground in frustration. He had just spent the better part of a day killing these insignificant wretches, but still the Blue Bead eluded him. His chest fell, however, as despair overtook him. The imps were getting harder and harder to find as Vayne slaughtered them by the score, and the darkness that was beginning to fall would make them impossible to catch.

Vayne turned, looking towards the great shining Wizards’ Tower in the distance, and then decided that perhaps now was the time to go back and report on his failure. However, he stopped immediately as he spotted a dark obstacle in his path. At first he thought it was a tree, but then he fell back, baring his staff, for trees did not hail travelers.

“Ho there wizard. Stop your slaying of the imps for a moment and indulge and old man. I wonder, if, perhaps you are hunting them for sport? Or are you hunting them to complete Grayzag’s test?”

Vayne stared at the figure, but he could not make him out distinctly. It was as if he were a great black blob, indistinct in any light. Vayne instantly felt as if he should distrust this man, but he nodded to him anyway.

“Well then, my young friend, we may be able to help each other. You see, I have collected every type of bead. Name which one you are missing and I shall give it to you.”

Vayne fell back, wondering why this stranger had so conveniently appeared just as Vayne was giving up. Finally, he decided to find out the stranger’s motive. “And what will you want in return?”

“Well, I want nothing too much. I merely wish for you to remember that I gave you this bead, so that when you one day become a great mage, you may come and repay your debt to me with a simple task.”

Vayne thought to himself, leaning on his staff. The offer was very tempting, for he would probably have to restart Basic Magic, another four months of boring work with Dennis laughing at him, if he came back empty handed. However, deep inside him, his pride demanded that he get it himself, not from some random stranger who happened by. His caution also urged him to reject the offer, as this stranger was, while friendly, definitely not the type of person to owe favors to.

“I will not accept your offer.”

There was a pause, but the stranger replied. “Very well.” Then he was gone, disappearing in a flash of purple light.

Vayne shook his head, for he had probably just given up his chance to become an apprentice, merely because his pride had demanded that he get the bead himself. Nevertheless, he stuck to his path and began the long, terrible path towards losing his dreams.

Vayne walked into Grayzag’s room, the door closing behind him eerily. Grayzag sat at the marble table, but he stood up as Vayne entered, closing the same book that he had been reading from earlier. Grayzag’s terrible, black eyes focused on Vayne, his frame seeming to grow and grow, blotting out everything with an impenetrable darkness. However, Vayne stood before him, defiant to the last.

“Do you have the beads?”

Vayne walked forward, holding out in one firm hand the four beads he had managed to collect. Grayzag’s hand shot forward, grabbing them up. He brought them up to his eyes to inspect them. Then his face contorted in rage.

“Is my sight not as good as it used to be, or are there only four beads here.”

“Your eyes do not deceive you. The last imp hid himself very well.”

Grayzag’s eyes flashed as he drew himself up higher, drawing his wand from his pocket. Vayne slammed his staff on the ground, using it for support as his fears mounted and his determination crumbled. Grayzag pointed his wand at the last door on the right, and the living shadow there suddenly dissipated. Vayne flinched, expecting a horror to come rushing out.

“You have passed the test, for there is no Blue Bead. I have made a room for you at the end there. Rest well, for we begin training tomorrow, and my training sessions are not easy.”