Dark Age (enkerzed and mewmint20)

[enkerzed]

Lowen trudged wearily down the path through the woods, kicking a rock with bitterness as he dwelt upon his latest disappointment. The young mage thought that he had finally found safety at the last village he was at. The people there were certainly far more welcoming than others who would have turned away strangers at an instant, but after what had just happened yesterday, Lowen felt that he should have known better. The moment they decided to string a young girl up at the stake on suspicion of witchcraft, Lowen knew that he had to leave. To think that the entire incident had begun from the girl's lack of pimples at her age. It was beyond absurd!

Lowen had left with nothing but the travel stained shirt on his back, his threadbare trousers and the worn down boots on his feet. He had no hat to protect his bare head from the sun except for his thick mop of brown hair, but the nearby trees provided plenty of shade. Travelling through the woods alone might have been dangerous due to the presence of wild animals and bandits, but it was far safer now than trying to live amongst other people, especially with the Church of Holy Light spreading its fear of 'dark sorcery', blaming all the world's problems on those with the ability to use magic. Burn them at the stake, that was their solution, and in almost no time at all, the most gifted, wise and legendary masters of magic at the time had all been turned upon by the very people they strove to help.

Jared the Sun Fire, stabbed in his sleep. Gwendolin the Healer, hanged by a lynch mob. Leo the Sea Tamer, bound, stoned and burned in his home town. Every book, every scroll, every item that had anything to do with magic whatsoever had all been burned as well and so the accumulated knowledge of centuries had been incinerated within the span of a few years. The few mages that attempted to defend themselves only seemed to make the whole situation worse and now, as far as Lowen knew, he could have been the last mage in the country, if not the world.

He had only just discovered his abilities before the fear of magic became so widespread, and thus he was never recognized as an apprentice since he never took a master. He sat down now behind a tree to rest, examining the scar on the back of his hand. It looked no different from any other scar, but it was his first evidence of magic. The cut had been so deep that there seemed to be no way to stop the bleeding, until he willed it to close and, much to his amazement, it did. In better times, he might have sought the tutelage of Gwendolin the Healer, but she was dead now, like all the other Great Masters.

After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, Lowen could faintly hear a noise that was different from the rustling of leaves and chirping of birds. He stood up and crept furtively through the woods, his wide green eyes alert for movement. The closer he approached the source of the sound, the clearer it became that there was danger about. Wordless shouting, steel clashing against steel, there was a fight in progress and Lowen had no desire to get involved. Still, he wanted to see what was happening and against his better judgement, curiosity had triumphed and spurred him on through the woods.