GA Writing Prompts - 26. # 110 Ogol

Ogol saw the Western Mountains on the horizon. The mountain ridge stretched far from north to south. The mountains were high and the highest peaks were covered with snow. The sky was blue and the sun shed a warm light. Yet the mountain ridge looked cold and menacing. And the vast and dry plain was not inviting for a ride at all.

Ogol’s eyes wandered along the mountain ridge. The palace was hidden somewhere in the mountains. Ogol had read about it twenty years ago when he had sneaked about in the library of the castle. He had stumbled across a book that was written in the ancient Aglanthol language that Ogol had learned in the castle. The words had been mysterious. He had not really understood them. All he had read from the text was that the Palace without Entrance held a mighty magical tool. Seizing this tool was Ogol’s ultimate goal.

Ogol planned to discard his men as soon as they had reached the mountain chain. He would then enter the mountains and move on alone. First, however, he would first visit the Castle of Saelethiel. Ogol felt repulsed by the idea, but the mountain chain was vast and the palace was well hidden. He needed more information on it. Else he would only waste time with a long and fruitless search.

Ogol stood and looked west. The mountains looked cold and menacing. Ogol bit his lip. He had sworn to never visit the castle again. A long time ago, Ogol had studied in the castle. He had been an aspiring adept and an enthusiastic young man. Until that day when his enthusiasm had turned into hate. Thirst for vengeance now was the only motive that drove Ogol on. Everything had changed when the brethren had humiliated him.

Ogol glared at the Western Mountains. He felt bitter and hatred overwhelmed him. He hated the castle, the brethren, all magicians and aspiring adepts. Ogol felt hatred against Aglanthol and against the whole world. Ogol stood, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips compressed and his eyes narrowed. He looked at the mountains grimly.

Ogol was forty-five years of age. He had come to the Castle of Saelethiel twenty-five years ago. Ogol had been born in the north of the land. His father had been an average Khalindash man. Ogol’s magical talent had shown early and his father had taken him to a Khalindash shaman. He had asked the man to teach his son and further his talents. The Khalindash shaman was skilled. However, his magical abilities were limited. But the man recognized the boy’s talents and he sought for a way to further and promote the young man.

The Khalindash had been driven out of their homeland by the Aglanthol a thousand years ago. Their most powerful magician Khaalindaan had been banned by the Aglanthol wizard Norlorn. From that time on, the former Clan of Bre had called themselves Khalindash, the avengers of Khaalindaan. From that time on, they had lived far in the north of the continent where the climate was harsh and the crops were bad and the lives of the people were more painful than pleasant. From that time on, only holy men and shamans lived amongst the Khalindash. Never again a Khalindash man had developed skills that matched those of the mighty wizards. Until the day the boy Ogol was born.

The shaman recognized Ogol’s talents and saw a chance to finally change the fate of the Khalindash. Once Ogol had become a mighty and powerful wizard, the Khalindash would finally be able to stand up against Aglanthol and win. The shaman trained the boy for five years and he planted hopes and high goals in the heart of the young man. The shaman knew the legend of the ancient castle and, almost against his own belief trusted that the legend held a truth. The shaman told Ogol the legend of Khaalindaan. He praised the ancient wizard’s skills and talents and again and again compared the young man to him. When Ogol turned twenty years of age, the shaman took him on a long journey westward. He told him of the Castle of Saelethiel.

The Castle of Saelethiel, high in the Western Mountains, was built aeons ago to train the young and talented adepts, regardless of their origin. The castle meanwhile was within Aglanthol territory, but mighty wards hid it from the eyes of an average man. The castle guarded secrets that were far beyond a man’s understanding. It was not only a training centre. The Castle of Saelethiel also enforced the law.

Ogol stood and looked out on the Western Mountains. He recalled the day when he and his mentor had left the wood and had reached the open land. Twenty-five years ago he had also looked out on the Western Mountains, his heart filled with enthusiasm, ambition, curiosity, and joy. His mentor had left him that day and had told him to travel on his own and look out and find the castle. His mentor had said that he was just a simple shaman and an average man and therefore would not be able to see the secret castle. Ogol, however, was a true magician and therefore would find the castle on his own. His mentor asked him to never forget his origin, his clan, and their fate. And Ogol had promised the man to come back one day and work for the good of his clan. Then they had parted and Ogol had travelled on alone. He had looked for the castle for many weeks. He had never grown disillusioned and his ambition had never left him. Ogol had trusted in his abilities and he had believed in his fortune and fate.

Ogol stood and closed his eyes for a moment. And then he recalled the day when he had found the castle. One morning, he had found a path, untread and covered with weeds. Ogol had sensed in his heart that he was close to his goal. He had followed the path until its end. He had stopped and looked out and, although he saw nothing, Ogol had known that the castle was near. Ogol had stood motionless the whole night and had focused on his goal. Strange noises and shadows had tried to disturb him. But Ogol had only smiled inwardly at those, in his eyes, simple attempts to make him turn and run from the castle. At daybreak, the weather had changed. Heavy clouds had covered the sky and a cold wind had gotten up. Lightning had flashed and thunder had rolled and heavy rain had fallen down on him. Ogol had stood motionless and had waited for what was to come.

The sky had finally cleared up. Ogol had watched the area. Silence had fallen. No noise was to be heard. He had curiously waited for what was coming next. But nothing had happened for many hours. For the first time, Ogol had felt insecure. Just when this feeling arose, a man stepped out from the shadows. He was dressed in a black robe, his face covered by a hood. Ogol had not seen him coming. He had felt nervous and even frightened a bit. The man had approached him and without a greeting or introduction had asked Ogol questions as to who he was and where he had come from and why he was there. Ogol answered the questions in all honesty and the best he could. And then the man had disappeared from his sight from one second to the other. For the first time, Ogol had felt disillusioned and sad. He had doubted his goal.

The day had passed and also another night. This time, Ogol had sat down on the ground. He had listened into the night and had gazed into the darkness. This time, the nightly noises had frightened him. Ogol had thought of his mentor and his motives. ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Faith can move mountains,’ the man had said before he had parted. Ogol had pondered on these words for the whole night. He grew exhausted. He was hungry and he was dehydrated. And as the hours passed on, his thoughts had become incoherent and his mind had become more and more dominated by his conflicting feelings. At daybreak, Ogol had felt like in a trance, yet not a trance that helped him focus. He rather felt as if he was wrapped in cotton wool. He felt like in a cocoon that was made of only feelings and emotions.

Ogol had risen to his feet. His legs had trembled from exhaustion. He felt small against the high mountains. He felt alone and left alone. His high ambitions had left him. Ogol felt like a child that had trusted some incalculable and wayward adult. He had entirely lost faith in his mentor’s words. He felt fooled and deceived. He was disillusioned and sad. And then Ogol had turned angry. He had scolded himself a fool and a simpleton. For an hour or two, he grimly spoke magical spells and applied some magical tools. The castle, however, remained out of a sight. Ogol then ranted against the mountains until he felt entirely ashamed of himself. That was when Ogol gave up and planned to travel east to a seaport and hire up on a vessel. Ogol stood for another half an hour and gazed at the cold and menacing mountains. A bird in the sky finally distracted him. A white dove crossed the sky. Ogol watched the bird and admired its ability to fly. He watched the bird against the blue sky. The sun warmed his skin and he smelled the scent of flowers. A smile spread on his lips and he felt joy in his heart. When he had lowered his eyes, the Castle of Saelethiel had materialized in front of him.

Ogol stood and looked out on the Western Mountains. He recalled the day when the castle had opened its door to him. Ogol felt wistfulness in his heart as he sensed a long gone joy. The magician suddenly felt insecure. Was it right to invade the castle and look for information on the ancient palace? Was it right to disturb the peace of the brethren who had nothing evil in mind?

Ogol thought of the day when his fellow Aglanthol student had said to him that, no matter how talented he was, Ogol as a Khalindash man would never make a career. Ogol had turned to their teacher, hoping the man would scold his fellow-student. But the man had smiled mildly at Ogol and had said that a career perhaps was only something for a haughty man. His eyes had rested warmly on Ogol and then the man had said that a simple shaman could do so much good to the people. From that day on, Ogol had hated the man. He hated the castle, the brethren and all Aglanthol men. Ogol’s heart was broken and he turned bitter. However, he finished his studies. He was dedicated and committed. He absorbed the castle’s knowledge with new motivation. As a highly skilled and trained magician and as man with a new and high set goal, Ogol had returned to his clan. From that day on, Ogol had worked on his rise and on the rise of his clan. And now, twenty years after he had left the Castle of Saelethiel, Ogol finally felt on the brink of success and close to his ultimate goal.

Ogol looked at the Western Mountains, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his teeth gnashed and his eyes narrowed. A crow cried and Ogol shot it a dark look. The bird flew up and Ogol’s eyes followed it. Ogol smiled.