marble surface to the ears of Third Apprentice Yulmanda.
The apprentice, a Gold elf girl less than a century old, walked quickly to the center of the casting circle and looked down. Valmaxian heard her quiet sigh.
'That was the last of the silver from Selune,' Valmaxian stated without emotion.
Yulmanda turned toward him but kept her eyes on the floor. 'Master, I-'
'Failed!' Valmaxian shouted, his voice rolling over the smooth floor like waves crashing on a beach. 'You failed, because you are a stupid, useless girl.'
'Master-'
'Shut up,' Valmaxian roared, holding up a hand as if to hold back the sound from the apprentice's mouth. 'Get out of here. Leave my studio immediately and do not return. Your father will receive a bill for the materials you so foolishly wasted. You're not fit to touch the Weave.'
He heard the girl sob, even heard the first of her tears tick onto the marble floor at her feet. Valmaxian looked away, up at the deep azure sky over Siluvanede. He could tell the girl was trying to think of something to say, some defense that could save her place as one of Valmaxian's students-the most coveted position for the young Gold elves of Siluvanede. Valmaxian's studio was unparalleled. The items he enchanted there were sought after throughout the elf lands all around the High Forest and beyond.
Yulmanda didn't bother arguing. Crying, she walked quickly past him and to the broad steps at the edge of the casting circle. The steps would lead her a hundred feet down the elf-made tor on which the casting circle had been built. It would then take her the better part of the day to cross his compound and pass through the gates into the city proper.
As Yulmanda's footsteps touched the top of the stairs, Valmaxian heard another set approaching. He kept his eyes fixed on a single cloud lazily wandering across the perfect sky and waited for the newcomer to approach. It would be a long walk.
The wand that Yulmanda had ruined was, of course, a minor trinket, intended as a gift to a wealthy collector more interested in the rare silver than the enchantment. The collector had several of Valmaxian's finest pieces and had recently begun to collect his work to the exclusion of all others.
'Master Valmaxian,' a voice behind him called.
'Who are you?' Valmaxian asked without bothering to look at the intruder.
'Piera-' the young elf started to say then obviously realized Valmaxian wouldn't care what his name was. 'A messenger, sir, with disturbing news.'
'The staff?' Valmaxian asked, his blood running cold. The look he gave the messenger sent the boy back two steps.
'Staff, Master?' the messenger asked, his face pale and his eyes bulging. 'N-no, Master Valmaxian.'
Valmaxian sighed and put a hand to his chest. His heart beat rapidly, and his palm was sweating.
'Master?' the messenger asked. 'Are you feeling unwell? Should I fetch-?'
'Be still, boy,' Valmaxian barked, turning his face back up to the azure sky. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The messenger cleared his throat.
Without opening his eyes, Valmaxian said, 'You are still here.'
'Yes, Master,' the messenger replied. 'I was told to deliver a message.'
'Then deliver it with haste and be on your way,' Valmaxian said, eyes still closed, 'or are they paying you by the hour?'
The messenger let loose a terrified chuckle and said, 'Oh, no, Master. I am paid by the message.'
Valmaxian let a long sigh hiss through his teeth and heard the boy take another step back.
'Master,' the messenger said, 'it's Lord Kelaerede.'
Valmaxian opened his eyes. The little cloud had passed from his field of vision. He didn't look at the boy.
'Master, Lord Kelaerede lies on his deathbed. He has asked for you.'
Valmaxian rolled his head slowly to one side, his eyes straight forward so the boy tilted lazily into view.
'Kelserede's dying?' the wizard asked.
'Presently, Master,' the boy said, nodding. 'Or so I was told.'
Valmaxian looked back up at the sky and the boy said nothing for the space of four rapid, ragged breaths. Valmaxian said, 'Well, then, I guess I must be off.'
Kelaerede looked fine. Valmaxian could see no difference in the elfs face, or in the fine veins on the back of his hand. It had been closer to seven hundred years than six hundred since Valmaxian had seen his former teacher, but the look of disappointment was as plain in Kelserede's eyes on his deathbed as it had been the day he'd turned Valmaxian out.
Valmaxian sat on a stiff-cushioned chair next to Kelserede's narrow, low bed. The old elf sat propped up with pillows. Valmaxian avoided the dying elfs eyes. Instead he looked around the simple bedchamber. They sat in silence for a long time. Kelserede's breathing came labored and slow, and his legs didn't move the whole time.
'You have done well,' Kelaerede said finally, his voice as thin as a reed. He looked the same, but sounded different.
Valmaxian nodded in response.
'I wanted to see you,' Kelaerede said, 'one last time.'
Valmaxian looked his former teacher in the eye and asked, 'To make peace? After so long?'
Kelserede's breath whistled out of his nose and the old elf shuddered. 'You could have been one of the finest craftsmen Aryvan-' The old elf stopped to cough, then smiled. 'I was going to say 'Aryvandaar.' Old habits.' He coughed again and said, 'You could have been one of the finest.'
'I am the finest,' Valmaxian said. He sighed when he realized how he sounded. So much time had passed but Kelaerede could still make him feel like a child.
'You made the bargain, didn't you,' Kelaerede said.
'I did what I had to do,' Valmaxian answered.
'Regardless of the consequences?'
'Consequences?' Valmaxian asked. 'The items I craft are the most sought after in Siluvanede. That was the consequence of my actions. I cast a spell-from a scroll you wrote yourself. I solved a problem using the Weave. Isn't that what you always taught me to do?'
Kelaerede shook his head. 'I always told you that you could be everything you ever wanted to be but that it would cost you something of yourself.'
'I thought that was what you warned me against,' Valmaxian replied. 'You told me the demon would require payment, then you tell me I should have spent 'something of myself.' I spent all I needed to spend, and the bill has not come due in over six and a half centuries.'
Kelaerede coughed through a bitter laugh and said, 'That doesn't mean it will never come due, and there's a difference between spending a single thin copper of your own essence every day and the price that En'SePDinen will surely ask.'
'And you would know, I suppose,' Valmaxian said. 'It was you who bound that demon to service the first time.'
'And I who sent it back to the Abyss where it belongs,' Kelaerede said.
'It was my decision,' Valmaxian said. He stood, his knees shaking. 'I have been fine without you. You were holding me back.'
'I was teaching you,' the old elf whispered.
'You were wasting my time,' Valmaxian almost shouted. His voice echoed against the bare walls. 'You're wasting my time now.'
'Am I keeping you from your work, then?' Kelaerede asked. 'I understand it's a staff.'
The blood drained from Valmaxian's face, and he felt warm, though he knew he should have expected Kelaerede to be following his work.
'A staff, yes,' Valmaxian said. 'It will be my masterpiece.'
'Your masterpiece…' Kelaerede said around a harsh laugh. 'A masterpiece I hope you're prepared to lose. If En'Sel'Dinen knows it means anything to you, that's what he'll want.'
