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Description
The legend of Casso, part 2

-

“That the blessed child,
from where the lands were wild,
In the abbey grew,
Lomnar knew.”

- The Bardica Compendis

Greenvale Abbey, year 12

‘You are gonna fall down!’ Nalus’ shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked up into the apple tree where his best friend was sitting. ‘I am not.’ Casso said, pressing his legs tighter around the branch and leaning out, one arm wrapped around the trunk of the tree, the other stretched out. Lingering inches from his fingertips hung a great red, sun ripened apple. ‘Come down, Casso! It doesn’t matter. There are other apples, nearer the ground.’ But Casso did not hear him. His fingertips brushed the shiny surface of the apple. He leaned out and closed his fingers around it. He was just about to lean back with his prize when he heard an ominous cracking noise below him. The branch suddenly disappeared below him and he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as he landed hard on his back. ‘Casso!’ Nalus shouted, and rushed over to his friend. ‘Are you allright?’ Cassos arm shot triumphantly into the air, holding the apple. ‘Im fine’ He said. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, leaned against the foot of the tree and bit into the apple while looking absently ahead of him, over the wall surrounding the priory, at the forest covered mountains and the clear blue sky above them. Nalus sat down beside him. ‘Why does it always have to be the highest apple, Casso? You could have had 10 apples in the time it took you to get to that one.’ Casso took another bite and ate it before answering. ‘They taste better.’ Nalus looked at him sceptically. ‘You’re sure they don’t just feel like that because it took forever to get to it?’ Casso grinned. ‘Maybe,’ he said, while brushing some sticks out of his golden blonde hair ‘but does it matter? Would you rather eat a normal apple that tastes like any other, or a normal apple that tastes great?’ Nalus did not have time to answer this, however, as just in that moment Sama stuck his head out of the window to the kitchen. Sama was about 30 summers, and had lived at the priory as long as either of them could remember.
He had a square, but friendly face and, like most of the monks, a tonsure. ‘Oi! You lot! What did the prior tell you about climbing the trees?’ he shouted. Casso and Nalus glanced at eachother. ‘He said to be careful!’ answered Casso. ‘And not to harm the trees!’ called Sama. ‘Now get in here. I need you to help me with these!’ he stuck out one arm holding a beheaded chicken. ‘Isn’t that Mirja and Elliana’s jobs?’ asked Nalus with an unsatisfied tone. ‘Usually, but the girls are all busy! Now don’t be cheeky and get in! If we finish fast you can “test” the sugarberries.’
Neither of the boys needed any more convincing than that and soon after both were in the kitchen plucking feathers, and helping Sama prepare the food. A couple of hours later Ceya, followed by Mirja and Elliana, entered the room, each carrying several baskets of berries and fruit. ‘All ready for tonight, Ceya?’ asked Sama. Ceya nodded and deposited her baskets on a table before joining in the cooking.

The sun was on its last quarter when the two boys left the kitchen, both with a pocket full of sugared berries. They once more sat down under the same apple tree they had been by when Sama had called them in.
A noise from the courtyard made Nalus turn: Two horsemen, one with long blonde hair and a bright green travelling cloak, the other with dark hair and a brown hood rode through the opening in the wall and dismounted in the courtyard. Both were greeted by prior Melonius and taken inside.
Both boys looked at one another and got up. Visitors were uncommon, and these looked more interesting than the average traveller looking for shelter. Casso and Nalus both rushed to the main entrance and peered inside. The prior was opening the door into the dining hall and the dark haired man with the hood followed him inside. The other man stayed outside. He looked around for a moment, as if memorizing his surroundings, then sat down on a bench beside the door and pulled out a pipe and began to stuff it. Casso was about to ask Nalus if he wanted to go closer, but stopped when he heard Nalus gasp. He looked up and realized that the blonde man was holding his pipe upside down and lighting it with a small flame that apparently hovered in thin air a fingerbreadth above the palm of his hand. He clenched his fist, snuffing the flame, and put the pipe in his mouth. He puffed it a few times and leaned back. ‘You don’t have to hide from me.’ He said. His voice sounded melodious, almost like he was singing. Casso and Nalus looked at each other and stepped into the hallway. ‘Sorry, sir’ said Nalus, who had apparently developed a sudden fascination with his feet. ‘Are you a wizard?’ asked Casso. The man took the pipe out of his mouth. It was carved from scrimshaw and fashioned to look like the head of a dragon, the smoke coming out of its open mouth. ‘No. I am a bard. Baelius is the name, the grumpy fellow is Gento. And who might you be?’ he said. ‘But what was that you did with your hand then?’ asked Nalus, choosing to ignore the question. ‘Magic.’ Baelius stated. ‘I am Casso. This is Nalus’ said Casso. ‘How come you know magic when you are not a wizard?’ asked Nalus, almost impatiently. Baelius smiled. ‘My occupation is to entertain, inform, amaze and impress, young one. I know a little of magic, true. But I only know a handful of minor tricks. Like this:’ Baelius opened his hand and a colourful butterfly batted its wings a few times, as if testing them, before taking off and flapping away. ‘Can you teach me how to do that?’ asked Nalus. ‘No.’ said Baelius. ‘But I can, tell you how I do it.’ Nalus looked eager, and was giving Baelius his undivided attention. ‘You have to reach out with your mind. Feel the magic in the air. It is in everything, living or dead. Then, you channel it.’ Baelius closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate for a moment; slowly a small shower of water began to spring from the tip of his index finger. He sat straight up again, and the water stopped. He looked at the two boys with an almost amused expression (Nalus was standing with closed eyes, growing increasingly red in the face as he tried to replicate the feat). ‘Now, have you two ever heard of Grimo Irontooth and the red dragon?’

‘I hope you will be staying for a while,’ said Melonius as he held the door open for Gento. ‘We have a feast prepared for tonight. It is the last day of summer, after all.’ Gento gave a faint hint of a smile, ‘Perhaps. Though we really have to get going before- Baelius, what on earth are you doing?’ Baelius looked up from his position on the bench. The two boys in front of him looked to Gento who had clearly interrupted something. ‘Oh, calm down. I found an audience for the first time in days!’ Gento looked visibly annoyed with his companion ‘I thought we had gone over this. We don’t need attention-‘ ‘I know, I know’ Interrupted Baelius with a hand gesture that resembled trying to whisk away an annoying mosquito. ‘But I think these too young men can keep a secret. Or three. Cant you?’ both boys nodded. Nalus looked to Gento. ‘Is it true that you have ridden on a dragon?’ he asked. Gento looked at the ceiling, despairing at his friend’s inability to keep low. ‘Yes, I have,’ he sighed. ‘But that was a long time ago. And not a tale for repeating’ he added warningly to Baelius. ‘I am surprised Melonius,’ said Baelius. ‘These two seem to know an awful lot for boys their age. I did not think you had sent them to a school?’ Melonius’ face took on a mildly disapproving look. ‘I haven’t.’ he said. ‘But they both keep sneaking into the library together. Knowledge is power, but still…’ Baelius looked surprised. ‘Are you kidding? Its great that they are curious! Knowledge should be-‘, ‘Baelius…’ Gento was shooting Baelius a stern glare. ‘You are a guest, remember?’ Baelius’ demeanor seemed to suddenly become humble in a rather exaggerated manner. ‘You are right, of course. How rude of me’ He bowed so low he nearly lost his balance. Turned and winked at the two boys before walking out, towards the guest rooms with Gento.
‘You two should go help carry in the food,’ said Melonius with a thin smile and left.

The evening proceeded with eating, drinking, laughter and singing. The eating halls long table’s supply of food dwindled and everybody seemed to become less inclined to move. However, Baelius appeared to be the exception from this rule as he began hopping from bench to bench while singing a cheery song about an alchemist’s unfortunate attempts at mixing dangerous substances. Just as Baelius was describing the effects of mixing black powder with magic fire, Nalus was distracted by movement in the doorway. Gento was speaking with a man in chain mail, his head obscured by a hood. The stranger turned his head and looked at Casso while nodding to whatever Gento was saying. Nalus looked to his side and noticed that the prior was staring fixedly at the two men, his lower face hidden in his right hand. He looked concerned. The prior’s eyes moved briefly to Nalus who hurriedly shifted his attention to cutting a piece of stubborn meat off a bone on his plate.
Peeking up, Nalus saw the stranger pat Gento on the back and leave. Gento returned to his seat and began digging into a slice of pie.

The next morning, Gento and Baelius left, their travelling cloaks flapping after them in the wind. Casso had not reacted very strongly when he had told him of what he had seen. But he had not seen them talk. There was definitely something going on.

Description
The legend of Casso, part 2

-

“That the blessed child,
from where the lands were wild,
In the abbey grew,
Lomnar knew.”

- The Bardica Compendis

Greenvale Abbey, year 12

‘You are gonna fall down!’ Nalus’ shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked up into the apple tree where his best friend was sitting. ‘I am not.’ Casso said, pressing his legs tighter around the branch and leaning out, one arm wrapped around the trunk of the tree, the other stretched out. Lingering inches from his fingertips hung a great red, sun ripened apple. ‘Come down, Casso! It doesn’t matter. There are other apples, nearer the ground.’ But Casso did not hear him. His fingertips brushed the shiny surface of the apple. He leaned out and closed his fingers around it. He was just about to lean back with his prize when he heard an ominous cracking noise below him. The branch suddenly disappeared below him and he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as he landed hard on his back. ‘Casso!’ Nalus shouted, and rushed over to his friend. ‘Are you allright?’ Cassos arm shot triumphantly into the air, holding the apple. ‘Im fine’ He said. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, leaned against the foot of the tree and bit into the apple while looking absently ahead of him, over the wall surrounding the priory, at the forest covered mountains and the clear blue sky above them. Nalus sat down beside him. ‘Why does it always have to be the highest apple, Casso? You could have had 10 apples in the time it took you to get to that one.’ Casso took another bite and ate it before answering. ‘They taste better.’ Nalus looked at him sceptically. ‘You’re sure they don’t just feel like that because it took forever to get to it?’ Casso grinned. ‘Maybe,’ he said, while brushing some sticks out of his golden blonde hair ‘but does it matter? Would you rather eat a normal apple that tastes like any other, or a normal apple that tastes great?’ Nalus did not have time to answer this, however, as just in that moment Sama stuck his head out of the window to the kitchen. Sama was about 30 summers, and had lived at the priory as long as either of them could remember.
He had a square, but friendly face and, like most of the monks, a tonsure. ‘Oi! You lot! What did the prior tell you about climbing the trees?’ he shouted. Casso and Nalus glanced at eachother. ‘He said to be careful!’ answered Casso. ‘And not to harm the trees!’ called Sama. ‘Now get in here. I need you to help me with these!’ he stuck out one arm holding a beheaded chicken. ‘Isn’t that Mirja and Elliana’s jobs?’ asked Nalus with an unsatisfied tone. ‘Usually, but the girls are all busy! Now don’t be cheeky and get in! If we finish fast you can “test” the sugarberries.’
Neither of the boys needed any more convincing than that and soon after both were in the kitchen plucking feathers, and helping Sama prepare the food. A couple of hours later Ceya, followed by Mirja and Elliana, entered the room, each carrying several baskets of berries and fruit. ‘All ready for tonight, Ceya?’ asked Sama. Ceya nodded and deposited her baskets on a table before joining in the cooking.

The sun was on its last quarter when the two boys left the kitchen, both with a pocket full of sugared berries. They once more sat down under the same apple tree they had been by when Sama had called them in.
A noise from the courtyard made Nalus turn: Two horsemen, one with long blonde hair and a bright green travelling cloak, the other with dark hair and a brown hood rode through the opening in the wall and dismounted in the courtyard. Both were greeted by prior Melonius and taken inside.
Both boys looked at one another and got up. Visitors were uncommon, and these looked more interesting than the average traveller looking for shelter. Casso and Nalus both rushed to the main entrance and peered inside. The prior was opening the door into the dining hall and the dark haired man with the hood followed him inside. The other man stayed outside. He looked around for a moment, as if memorizing his surroundings, then sat down on a bench beside the door and pulled out a pipe and began to stuff it. Casso was about to ask Nalus if he wanted to go closer, but stopped when he heard Nalus gasp. He looked up and realized that the blonde man was holding his pipe upside down and lighting it with a small flame that apparently hovered in thin air a fingerbreadth above the palm of his hand. He clenched his fist, snuffing the flame, and put the pipe in his mouth. He puffed it a few times and leaned back. ‘You don’t have to hide from me.’ He said. His voice sounded melodious, almost like he was singing. Casso and Nalus looked at each other and stepped into the hallway. ‘Sorry, sir’ said Nalus, who had apparently developed a sudden fascination with his feet. ‘Are you a wizard?’ asked Casso. The man took the pipe out of his mouth. It was carved from scrimshaw and fashioned to look like the head of a dragon, the smoke coming out of its open mouth. ‘No. I am a bard. Baelius is the name, the grumpy fellow is Gento. And who might you be?’ he said. ‘But what was that you did with your hand then?’ asked Nalus, choosing to ignore the question. ‘Magic.’ Baelius stated. ‘I am Casso. This is Nalus’ said Casso. ‘How come you know magic when you are not a wizard?’ asked Nalus, almost impatiently. Baelius smiled. ‘My occupation is to entertain, inform, amaze and impress, young one. I know a little of magic, true. But I only know a handful of minor tricks. Like this:’ Baelius opened his hand and a colourful butterfly batted its wings a few times, as if testing them, before taking off and flapping away. ‘Can you teach me how to do that?’ asked Nalus. ‘No.’ said Baelius. ‘But I can, tell you how I do it.’ Nalus looked eager, and was giving Baelius his undivided attention. ‘You have to reach out with your mind. Feel the magic in the air. It is in everything, living or dead. Then, you channel it.’ Baelius closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate for a moment; slowly a small shower of water began to spring from the tip of his index finger. He sat straight up again, and the water stopped. He looked at the two boys with an almost amused expression (Nalus was standing with closed eyes, growing increasingly red in the face as he tried to replicate the feat). ‘Now, have you two ever heard of Grimo Irontooth and the red dragon?’

‘I hope you will be staying for a while,’ said Melonius as he held the door open for Gento. ‘We have a feast prepared for tonight. It is the last day of summer, after all.’ Gento gave a faint hint of a smile, ‘Perhaps. Though we really have to get going before- Baelius, what on earth are you doing?’ Baelius looked up from his position on the bench. The two boys in front of him looked to Gento who had clearly interrupted something. ‘Oh, calm down. I found an audience for the first time in days!’ Gento looked visibly annoyed with his companion ‘I thought we had gone over this. We don’t need attention-‘ ‘I know, I know’ Interrupted Baelius with a hand gesture that resembled trying to whisk away an annoying mosquito. ‘But I think these too young men can keep a secret. Or three. Cant you?’ both boys nodded. Nalus looked to Gento. ‘Is it true that you have ridden on a dragon?’ he asked. Gento looked at the ceiling, despairing at his friend’s inability to keep low. ‘Yes, I have,’ he sighed. ‘But that was a long time ago. And not a tale for repeating’ he added warningly to Baelius. ‘I am surprised Melonius,’ said Baelius. ‘These two seem to know an awful lot for boys their age. I did not think you had sent them to a school?’ Melonius’ face took on a mildly disapproving look. ‘I haven’t.’ he said. ‘But they both keep sneaking into the library together. Knowledge is power, but still…’ Baelius looked surprised. ‘Are you kidding? Its great that they are curious! Knowledge should be-‘, ‘Baelius…’ Gento was shooting Baelius a stern glare. ‘You are a guest, remember?’ Baelius’ demeanor seemed to suddenly become humble in a rather exaggerated manner. ‘You are right, of course. How rude of me’ He bowed so low he nearly lost his balance. Turned and winked at the two boys before walking out, towards the guest rooms with Gento.
‘You two should go help carry in the food,’ said Melonius with a thin smile and left.

The evening proceeded with eating, drinking, laughter and singing. The eating halls long table’s supply of food dwindled and everybody seemed to become less inclined to move. However, Baelius appeared to be the exception from this rule as he began hopping from bench to bench while singing a cheery song about an alchemist’s unfortunate attempts at mixing dangerous substances. Just as Baelius was describing the effects of mixing black powder with magic fire, Nalus was distracted by movement in the doorway. Gento was speaking with a man in chain mail, his head obscured by a hood. The stranger turned his head and looked at Casso while nodding to whatever Gento was saying. Nalus looked to his side and noticed that the prior was staring fixedly at the two men, his lower face hidden in his right hand. He looked concerned. The prior’s eyes moved briefly to Nalus who hurriedly shifted his attention to cutting a piece of stubborn meat off a bone on his plate.
Peeking up, Nalus saw the stranger pat Gento on the back and leave. Gento returned to his seat and began digging into a slice of pie.

The next morning, Gento and Baelius left, their travelling cloaks flapping after them in the wind. Casso had not reacted very strongly when he had told him of what he had seen. But he had not seen them talk. There was definitely something going on.