According to Oceana

The Story According to Oceana …except for where it’s not:

“Yah haha!” The extremely old crazy man laughed with frightening glee. He then leaned in close to Iehron’s face and quietly said. “Prepare for the most intense training of your life.”

Training turned out to be far drearier than what Iehron expected. Training as an Ohtar was physically exhausting and dangerous, but learning spells from Nemoris involved mostly lectures. Long lectures. Way, way too long lectures. Iehron often wondered how the old wizard was able to cycle enough air into his withered body to produce such long winded discourse.

When six hours of scheduled instruction often turned into ten hours - much to Nemoris’ surprise but never his remorse - Iehron passed the time by doodling. However, Iehron wasn’t a terrible student. The pictures he drew were usually relevant to the subject matter, such as when he drew vines wrapped around a brain as Nemoris was explaining how he could control vines with his mind.

Mirette seemed to enjoy the lectures. She carefully followed along while taking meticulous notes. Often she would ask questions for clarification or possible variations of spells. Nemoris would answer her with a smile, pleased by her interest and aptitude for the subject matter. Then he would throw whatever was handy at Iehron and growl at him to pay attention.

A week passed, and Iehron was still sorting through all that had happened to him. The loss of his family and home left him feeling very purposeless, and although Nemoris’ ramblings were serving as a distraction, Iehron knew he would soon need to move on. He could look for employment, or he could join Lightning Eagle’s military. He didn’t like the second option, but it would be the easier option.

Iehron wondered about what Mirette would do when he left. She seemed to enjoy learning from the tree wizard. Maybe she would stay.

It occurred to Iehron that he had only recently met the two of them, and yet somehow they had both imposed their presence on him – not that he minded having the beautiful girl with him, but he could do without the ancient windbag. However, he still knew very little about them. And the more he spent time with them, the less relaxed he felt in their company. Something felt off.

One morning, Iehron rose early from his bed after a restless night. A dream had disturbed him. And it worried him that it disturbed him. And that worry unsettled him. And the unsettlement… well, you get the point.

He had dreamed of a dark, gorilla-like creature who appeared out of shadow and wandered through Nemoris’ home, eventually disappearing through the kitchen door. All the while, a voice told Iehron to beware.

Iehron knew it was only a dream. Yet, he felt the urge to open the kitchen door. He knew there would be no gorilla-man behind the door. That was impossible. So impossible, there was no need to open the door. He could go back to bed. But he opened the door. He felt some sense of shame from letting the dream affect him so much, but the shame was quickly lifted when Iehron found he was not standing in the kitchen.

A Wizard’s home is known for being tricky and having secret magical passageways, but Iehron was shocked to see a hallway with at least 100 doors. There was no telling what Nemoris had behind each door, and Iehron considered leaving. However, he felt as if something was pulling him, almost dragging him down the eerie hallway.

He stopped at a door about twentieth down and went inside. Nemoris’ lunacy could be seen everywhere. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor, they were all giant collages of pictures varying in size. Pictures of people. Pictures of household items. Many pictures of plants. And the strangest one of all was the picture directly in front of Iehron. He could swear it was a view of him from behind as he looked into the room of pictures.

He then heard another door open and quickly closed himself inside the room. Footsteps passed by in the hallway. They were light. And there was no labored breathing or perpetual grumbling. They must have belonged to Mirette.

“Why is she in here?” Iehron quietly wondered. “Did she follow me in, or did she already know about this place?”

Iehron remained motionless for a few minutes until the footsteps had passed. Then he happened to look up. He found what he had unknowingly been looking for. Above the door was a picture of the gorilla-man.

Iehron took the picture down from the wall and stared at it. The gorilla-man’s eyes were like two black pits filled to the brim with a cold darkness. The hairs on his body were plentiful and dark and covered thick, unnatural muscle. Clearly he had used magic to alter his physical form.

Iehron was about to put the painting back when he noticed a corner of paper sticking out the back. He opened the frame and removed the paper. It appeared to be a letter, addressed to Nemoris from the gorilla-man.

Dear Nemoris,

I know I have dishonored you, and that you never wish to speak with me again. But my battle is not with you, as you know. It is with the others.

I could use my old friend to brighten my days a little. Your magic could prove especially useful in the army I am creating.

I know you were angry when I became an Ohtar, and all the more when I chose to study dark magic. But please do understand; I was born to rebel. You can join what I accomplish, or can you watch it unfold as your talents waste away.

Forever your student,
Harry Manicus

Iehron was intrigued by the letter and read it three more times before he noticed the response on the bottom of the page. Nemoris had written it, which of course meant Iehron had to read it.

Harry,

You were not born to rebel. Nor did I teach you so you could fulfill your desire for power. The shame of my student becoming a murderous monster pales compared to what I know you have planned. I know what you unleashed on the edge of Dugrood. I will never join you in your evil plot.

You were right about one thing though: all Ohtars deserve to rot.

Your acquaintance,
Nemoris

Iehron replaced the picture as numerous thoughts swirled in his mind. “All Ohtars deserve to rot? Then why does Nemoris want me here? Why was I led to this letter?”

It was almost time for training, so Iehron headed back. However, he noticed a little bookcase he had not seen previously. Looking at the meager nine books, he had a sudden urge to read one – he hadn’t rejected any strange feelings all morning, so there was no reason to start now – and opened the one titled: Memory and Mind Spells.

He flipped quickly through the few pages of cramped handwriting and found a spell of mind reading. Such a spell could be useful for finding out what Nemoris was up to. He applied the spell to himself as best he could for a first try and went through the exit.

Iehron was slightly startled to find Nemoris and Mirette staring at him.

“Is breakfast ready?” asked Nemoris.

“Is what?” was all that Iehron could respond.

“Useless Ohtar,” Nemoris grumbled back. He pushed past Iehron and opened the door. Instead of the mysterious hallway with the doors and the bookcase, Iehron saw into the kitchen.

“Is something wrong?” asked Mirette, noticing that Iehron was staring strangely at the kitchen.

“Uh, no, nothing,” said Iehron.

Then he remembered that he thought Mirette had been in the hallway as well. She wore her usual smile and showed no signs of experiencing the bizarre wonderment Iehron had been through. He focused on her to see if he could get a mind read. Nothing happened. But he was new at the spell. It might take a few tries to get it working.

Iehron tried to read Nemoris. He got a faint sense of “I want breakfast”, but Nemoris always said “I want breakfast” in the morning, so it may have been Iehron’s imagination.

When they were done eating, Nemoris slammed his hand on the table, and in his customary loudness, shouted, “Time for training!”

“Right now?” asked Mirette. “We’re out of meat for lunch. We should probably go hunting first.”

“You ate all my meat?” Nemoris inquired of Iehron with an irritated glare of accusation. “Get out there and bring me back some more, you freeloader.”

“Alright! Quit yelling, you old grouch,” Iehron said back.

He quickly gathered his hunting gear and left the tree cavern cabin place. Mirette followed after him. She had a whole new hunting outfit on, and her hair was in braids.

When they were several minutes from the tree shack whatever-it-is, Mirette said, “Ooh, I see signs of a deer.”

“Where?” asked Iehron. He saw nothing. He even tried the mind read again, curious to see if it would work. It didn’t.

“Trust the herbalist,” said Mirette. “A deer is close.”

After walking for a little while, Mirette pointed at a tree and said, “There. Do you see the deer signs there?”

“Where?” asked Iehron. He still saw nothing.

“Look closely,” Mirette added.

Iehron went to the tree to try to find what Mirette was seeing, when suddenly a net snatched him off the ground.

At first Iehron was confused, and started struggling against the net to get free. Then he noticed Mirette was laughing at him. And at that moment, the mind reading spell began to work.

“The mighty Ohtar is so easily captured,” Iehron heard Mirette say even though she didn’t speak.

“What’s going on?” Iehron asked.

“I know Harry’s mind spell also,” said Mirette. “And how to block it.”

“Harry’s spell?” said Iehron. He didn’t know Harry was the one who wrote it. “Did you read the book this morning also?”

“No,” Mirette replied as she sat down on a fallen log next to where Iehron dangled in the net. “I never read his book. But I had told you I learned spells from my brothers.”

Iehron had previously thought this was all some kind of joke. But now his stomach tightened as he realized the situation he was in. “Harry is your brother.”

“That is correct,” Mirette said back. She smiled smugly, knowing Iehron never knew what she was up to. “He sent me to recruit Ohtars. That’s why I showed up at your house, what was left of your house, in Taloke.”

The feeling Iehron had about his situation grew worse. “Get me down, Mirette.”

She only stared back with her smile.

“Get me down now,” he said again. “Or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Mirette interrupted. “Use you magic? Go ahead and try.”

Iehron had been trying. But something was wrong. He couldn’t generate any magic, and his muscles were starting to stiffen.

“You never should have let me cook,” said Mirette. “The reason why you can’t move properly or use magic right now is due to a mixture I put in your breakfast. I put it in Nemoris’ food as well, so don’t expect him to come help you.”

“Nemoris…” Mirette continued, “He was an unexpected problem. He was Harry’s teacher before Harry became an Ohtar and a master of dark magic. Then Nemoris broke all ties with him. But you know that already from the letter. I wasn’t happy when you wanted to go to the southern forest, but I figured there was little chance of running into Nemoris. I nearly leapt from my skin when I first saw him. Little did I know he was calling you here.”

“He didn’t call me,” said Iehron.

“Oh, but he did,” said Mirette. “I wasn’t able to learn the details until his magic hallway was opened to you. I had been searching for it since we got here but couldn’t find it. Then he opened it to you, and I was able to follow in. There I learned that Nemoris has chosen you for something very important. As to what, I don’t know. But the crafty old buzzard used a pollen spell in the air to give you the desire to head south through his forest. Fortunately…” She stood and lightly tapped her finger on his nose. “I happened to find you first.”

She then gave the net a push to make it swing a little.

“Poor Nemoris,” she said with a laugh. “This whole time he’s been trying to figure out who I am. He didn’t know I was aware of the mind spell he’s been using. Speaking of which, he really doesn’t like the things you call him in your mind. Harry hadn’t intended for me to do anything to Nemoris, but since I’m here and he refuses to join us, I might as well take care of the matter. Though, I first need to deal with you.”

“What do you mean?” asked Iehron. He continued to struggle against his own body to get something working that might free him. All he could do were small motions, none of which were enough.

“Harry is looking for Ohtars who will join his army and serve him as he brings order to Dugrood, order through destruction of the present establishments. Once Lightning Eagle and Gray Steel are gone, he will be a proper ruler for Dugrood. I would like it if you would join us, but in the time we’ve spent together, it’s clear that won’t happen. Don’t worry. I won’t kill you. The dwarves will be here soon.”

Iehron had been taught about dwarves since he was a child. They went to every extreme to capture Ohtars. They would buy them for almost any sum of money. There were also some who liked to sing. Iehron reeeally hoped singing dwarves we not coming.

The sound of numerous heavy footsteps crunching on the forest floor thundered through the air, and Iehron saw dozens of dwarves arrive. They quickly surrounded him, cut the net open, and bound him.

A female leading the group threw a bag of coins to Mirette.

“Nice doing business with you again, Bobette,” said Mirette. “You are still a singing free group, correct?”

“Well, most of us don’t sing,” said Bobette. “But Dinky does.” She then whispered, “We picked him up a few weeks ago from a singing clan. It was an awful mistake. He has a voice like an injured wyvern and sings about misfortune. I’d dump him somewhere, but he has nowhere else to go.”

All of a sudden from the back of the pack, a song could be heard, making every head turn.

Your parents were on fire
Your girlfriend sold ya
But she never told ya
Her brother’s pure evil

Mirette cringed at the song, every part and component of it, and said to Iehron, “I’m sorry. I didn’t wish that on you, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Good bye, Iehron.”

The dwarves tossed Iehron onto a small wagon and moved out. Dinky continued to sing all the way along the forest path as the other dwarves plugged their ears.

Iehron wanted to crush something, particularly Dinky, but he still couldn’t move.