Deep in the forest, surrounded by towering oak trees stood an old stone tower. Ivy crawled up its walls and moss grew thick in the cracks between stones. The only light that entered came from a single window near the top, yet candlelight flickered within late into the night.
This tower had stood in this forest for longer than any could remember, a silent sentinel overlooking the woods. Few dared venture too close, deterred by its worn and weathered appearance. But within dwelt no ordinary man.
The scraping of a chair against stone echoed in the tower as Emrys rose wearily from his seat by the fire. A thousand years he had lived in this place, watching empires rise and fall while the forest remained. His long white hair and beard hung almost to the floor, interwoven with sprigs of herbs and flowers from his potion making. Deep wrinkles lined his face, eyes that had seen centuries gazing out from beneath bushy brows.
Yet for all his age, Emrys's mind remained as sharp as ever. He took up an ancient tome from the cluttered table, coughing as a cloud of dust rose into the air. These pages contained all the knowledge he had amassed over a millennium. Spells, potions, history both great and small filled the leather volume, written in his neat flowing script.
As the sun rose the next morning, it found Emrys as it always did, poring over his research by window light. A thousand years and still he sought to learn, hoping each new day would bring fresh understanding. For immortality was a long road to walk, and even one as old as he found means to stay busy.
You must be logged in to post a comment.