Legacy 2
by Redkage
“Come on boy, focus!” Alron ordered.
A week had gone by since Alron arrived at the castle, and he was beginning to see why his old friend had such big worries. Tyrune was positively the most difficult student he ever had! Sure, Alron had taught only Jasper before, but even he knew what a nightmare Tyrune was for tutors everywhere. From the way he acted, the boy had obviously been spoiled rotten, but that was to be expected from a teenaged king. Tyrune would constantly zone out whenever Alron tried to explain something to him, and he was always eager to rush through the lessons so he could go out into the courtyard to swing that oversized hunk of metal he called a sword.
If there was one rule everybody knew, it was to not rush magic. Those foolish enough to ignore that rule…well, very rarely did people find more than an arm or a foot to bury.
In Tyrune’s case, Alron knew he was dealing with a potential disaster. He was so profuse in magical energies that casting the simplest spells would result in rather explosive and exaggerated results. that is to say, if Tyrune managed to cast the intended spell in the first place. Everything he did seemed to go awry. Most of the time he would get only a few sparks or some smoke. Every now and then though he would do something like blast a wall into gravel or kick off an indoor hailstorm. After that first near-catastrophe, Alron decided that it would be wise to ward off his room during their private lessons to prevent the boy from destroying the entire castle. Just to be extra safe, he even tripled the barriers and made them extra thick though there were times he doubted even doing that would be enough.
The two of them were both in the Alron’s quarters, where he was trying to get Tyrune through a meditation session somewhat unsuccessfully. Tyrune sat cross legged in the middle of the floor, his discomfort evident on his face as he fidgeted around.
“Stop moving,” Alron ordered, “clear your mind of all distractions as you harness your inner self.”
Easier said than done with you yelling in my ear, you old cod, Tyrune thought.
Right away Alron grabbed one of Tyrune’s ears and twisted it painfully. “And you’re forgetting this old cod can read minds. Now focus!”
Tyrune scowled at his teacher and smothered some of his choice oaths as he tried to do as he was told, but that was easier said than done. The floor was hard and uncomfortable, his nose itched, and there was an annoying crow cawing outside the win-
Alron’s staff struck Tyrune’s shoulder smartly. “Focus!”
For the rest of session Alron circled Tyrune and watched him like a hawk. Every time the boy’s mind began to wander and think about food and swordplay, he’d rap the top of his head with his staff to knock him back to reality.
Feeling that Tyrune had achieved as much as possible, Alron decided to move on. “Alright, that’s enough for now.”
Tyrune unfurled his legs to much relief.
“Don’t celebrate just yet; we still have a lot of ground to cover,” Alron warned, and Tyrune groaned some more.
The day’s lesson was particularly difficult for both of student and teacher. Tyrune seemed completely incompetent, and this caused Alron to become short-tempered. It seemed as if no matter how hard he tried, the wizard just couldn’t get anything through that thick muscle head!
“Pay attention boy,” Alron said in a strained tone. “This is an arcane shield spell so ridiculously simple that even you cannot mess it up.” Putting a lid on his irritation, Alron closed his eyes and chanted the words in a clear voice. A shimmering field of magical force appeared in front of him. “See, it isn’t difficult at all. Now then, you’re to copy what I did. Focus your mind and energies to create a shield like mine.”
Tyrune gave a reluctant sigh as he halfheartedly concentrated on making the shield. He began to recite the words his master used, only to slip up the pronunciation and mumble a few keywords. Suddenly a large gust of wind swept through the study and kicked up papers and light objects as miniature whirlwinds formed and wreaked havoc all around the room!
The elf threw his hands into the air. “Unbelievable,” he swore, and the wind ceased completely. “Simply unbelievable! To foul up one of the most basic spells known is possibly the most idiotic thing I have ever seen in all my years! What are you trying to prove exactly, that you’re completely incapable to cast any spells at all? Well, I hate to inform you, Your Majesty, but you are wrong. You are the most powerful wizard to be born in thousands of years. Even though you failed to produce a shield, you managed to summon a small contingent of mischievous wind spirits that only powerful sorcerers can force them to appear.”
“I don’t see why you’re even bothering with me in the first place!” Tyrune yelled back. “Just because I got a whole mess of magic inside of me doesn’t mean I’m automatically a great wizard! I have no talent at this whatsoever, and frankly I don’t think I’ll ever get it!” With that, he stormed out of the study and slammed the door so hard behind him that it actually fell off one of its hinges.
Once again Alron threw his hands up into the air. “By the Great Titan himself, why must I be the one to deal with such a spoiled brat?” he asked out loud. Did Tyrune even have the slightest sense of duty anywhere? All he saw was an overgrown child stuffing his face with food, swinging a sword for fun and running off to gods knew where. There were rumors of Tyrune occasionally disappearing from time to time, but most people suspected that he was up to some sort of mischief. Alron could only feel sympathy for Jasper, who had to deal with the King’s selfish behavior all day, every day. Even the Monks of the Loril Order would have lost patience by now!
However, Alron was not going to give up so easily. He made a promise to Jasper that he would teach that muscle-headed boy, and he wasn’t one to back down on his word. He’d just have to work hard to break the boy out of his rebellion.
Meanwhile, Tyrune was still in a foul mood. After the very first lesson, every member of the staff learned to steer clear of the hallways after His Majesty’s sessions with Alron. There were rumors of some unfortunate souls who crossed paths with the burly boy and were now living their lives in some remote hospital ward (though there was no evidence of such events to be seen yet).
“Stupid elf,” Tyrune muttered. “He doesn’t know when to give up, that stubborn bastard. Wait until he…he…” He blinked as the room started to spin. Staggering, he leaned up against the wall to keep himself from falling.
“F-fuck….not again.” He closed his eyes and counted slowly to himself until the dizziness went away. Letting out a deep breath, he pushed off the wall and shook off the last of it. “It’s okay, I’m alright now,” he spoke out loud even though there wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. It was happening more and more frequently lately, but luckily no one had seen him like that yet. It was a good thing too, because he’d probably die of embarrassment if someone called him weak because of this.
Shrugging that episode off, Tyrune headed for was the kitchens. As he discovered after his first training session with Alron, using so much magic at once made him hungry. However, he wasn’t going to chow down on the rabbit food that his so-called master had ordered him to. No, what he needed was some real, juicy, red meat.
Instead of walking right into the kitchen, Tyrune slipped around the back and entered one of the many storerooms. Alron and Jasper had ordered the head chefs not to give Tyrune any meat, but Tyrune got around that by making an intimidating albeit official decree to the lower cooks for them to prepare what was on his menu. If that wasn’t enough, he made sure to flex a few of his big muscles while making his little speech for some added emphasis.
Opening one of the woven baskets, he pulled out several wooden boxes. As he lifted the lids off of them one by one, his smile grew bigger and bigger. In front of him was a spread of roasted venison, beef and potato stew, pork in apple sauce, leg of lamb with a rich brown sauce and a whole roasted turkey, basted to perfection. “I love being king,” he said to himself.
Without wasting any time, he carved out a piece of venison, bit into it and savored the oily juices that flooded his tongue. How could he ever possibly give this up? Quickly he dove in, tearing into the meat like a starved man. He only had a limited time to eat his fill before his ‘official’ dinner with Jasper, several important officials and, of course, that elf bastard.
Just thinking about him ticked Tyrune off. “Who does he think he is, coming out of nowhere and giving orders to me, the king!” he said to no one in particular. Bitterly, he took a huge bite into a turkey leg and let the delicious taste curb his temper. “The only reason why I haven’t immediately banished him is because he’s teaching me sword fighting as well but even that’s starting to look like it’s not worth all of this. I mean, does he really expect me to live for more than a week on just fish and vegetables? I mean, come on! A man of my size needs his meat!”
He then sighed. “Still, I have to admire Alron’s determination,” he continued his monologue. “No one had ever lasted longer than three days. Most of my last magic tutors ran off after the third lesson. A man could only take so much though, and it probably wouldn’t take long for Alron to give up and leave.” Just like all of the others, he thought.
After Tyrune ate every scrap of meat there was, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, burped and then slipped out of the storeroom. Quickly he made his way to the dining hall for another hour of dull, boring table discussions between old men. As luck would have it, Tyrune and Alron both arrived at the entrance at the same time.
“Hello again boy,” Alron inclined his head towards him. “I missed you during the last fifteen minutes of our session after you ran out.”
Tyrune tried not to let Alron calling him a boy get to him.
He failed.
“I had something more important to do, though if you’d like, I could go back to further wreck your room,” Tyrune suggested.
“That won’t be necessary.” Alron’s face was completely cool and calm. “You’ll have plenty of chances to do that during tomorrow’s lesson. So, shall we go in and dine?”
Grinding his teeth together, Tyrune marched into the dining hall and took his customary seat at the head of the table. After the meal was blessed, Tyrune grimaced as a plate of herb seasoned fish and a bowl of spinach was set in front of him. Though the chefs of the castle were all the best in the kingdom, they couldn’t do anything with fish and green veggies that would make him happy.
“Eat up,” Alron urged Tyrune. “Using magic expends a large amount of energy, and we wouldn’t want Your Majesty to waste away.”
He shot a glare towards him, but Tyrune speared a piece of fish and took a bite.
“So how is Tyrune progressing?” Jasper asked Alron from across the table.
“Very slowly, I’m afraid,” Alron replied. “The boy doesn’t wish to concentrate on anything but swords and fighting. However, he shows great promise and a lot of raw talent. He just needs to apply himself a bit harder.”
Tyrune quietly snorted. There he goes again, trying to push me into being a wizard by pulling my leg. Why can’t he just teach me sword fighting and leave it at that? I would gladly endure long hours swinging my heavy blade, honing my techniques through hard work and effort.
“It’s because you need to work on your magic control more than your swordplay boy.” Alron looked over at Tyrune.
“Do you know the meaning of the word privacy?” Tyrune demanded in a low voice so the other people wouldn’t hear him. Gods, he hated that mind reading!
“In several different languages,” he stated. “Now eat your vegetables.”
Bitterly Tyrune ate his salad while trying to figure out a way to ban spinach without looking like an idiot. Suddenly Alron jumped up and swore. “There are worms in my salad!”
Sure enough, a tiny white grub crawled out of the bowl and landed onto the tablecloth. Everyone else at the table turned slightly green as they pushed away their bowls of salad, but Tyrune was roaring with laughter.
“Did you do this, Tyrune?” Alron demanded.
“Oh no, I had nothing to do with that,” Tyrune said between laughs.
Alron frowned suspiciously, looking into Tyrune’s mind but from the looks of things he was telling the truth. “I don’t see any bugs in your bowl, so finish your salad Tyrune.”
“What? But-”
“Just eat.”
Giving a growl, he took another bite of spinach. He rushed through the rest of dinner just to get away from that man.
“Don’t forget you have your bath to take tonight,” the wizard reminded him.
How can I forget with you reminding me every time? Tyrune rolled his eyes and headed for his bath chamber. When he turned a corner, someone ran right into him and fell on his back with a loud crash.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” He roared at whoever bumped into him.
The boy’s eyes grew into wide saucers. “K-King Tyrune!”
The boy was small, barely as tall as Tyrune’s waist if he were standing and wore some fine clothes, a sign that his parents were somewhat wealthy.
Right away Tyrune reached down and lifted him off the ground. “You okay?” He asked as he brushed off some of the dust off his clothes.
“Y-yes.” He squeaked. “Oh, I’m sorry for running into you like that, I was just on my way to Daddy’s office to bring…oh no!” He picked up the package he had dropped during the crash. The flask of juice had managed to open up, and now everything inside was most likely soaked through. “Oh no, Daddy’s dinner is ruined!”
“Calm down, it’s no big deal.” Tyrune patted his shoulder. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to run down to the kitchen and tell the cooks there to make you another dinner to take to your Daddy. If they start giving you trouble, the password is ‘Alron stinks.’”
“Alron stinks?” the boy repeated back, dubiously.
“Alron stinks,” Tyrune grinned broadly.
“Okay, thank you King Tyrune!” The kid flashed a smile before running off to the kitchen, and Tyrune continued on towards the baths
The royal bath chamber was large and spacious. His great great grandfather had been rather fond of baths and redecorated it completely. The windows faced towards the west, and at a certain time at night, they would capture the moon just right in the center with their intricate stained glass artwork framing it. Rows of scented candles lined the drape covered walls, and there was a comfortable divan with soft silk pillows. The bathtub itself was made of the finest marble, sunken right into the floor. The size and depth could be comparable to a small pond, and there was even working plumbing that brought in ice cold or steaming hot water by turning the corresponding faucets, or deposit squirts of scented oils and essences by pressing certain knobs. He faintly recalled hearing that the man who installed the pipe work had received a baronetcy as a reward. In there, Tyrune found a maid just finishing throwing the flowers and herbs into the water.
“Your bath is ready for your pleasure, Your Majesty.” She curtsied. “Will you be requiring anything else?”
“That will be all.” Tyrune dismissed her. The maid gave another curtsey and left the room. As soon as the door closed, Tyrune let out a deep breath and, with obvious relief, threw off the robes Alron insisted he wear. “I hate these baggy robes! All this loose flipping and flapping is driving me insane!” He crumpled his clothes into a ball and threw it into a corner. “I prefer tight clothing that hugs my body, moving with me as I swing my sword and having it stretch across my muscles whenever I flex.”
Looking over at the mirror, he checked out his nude body for the first time in awhile. His shoulders were almost as broad as a door. If they grew any more, he’d need to enter every room sideways. His chest was large and full, bigger than any stallions’ in his stable. His stomach was like a stack of solid bricks, with deep lines running in between them. Experimentally, he flexed his arm and watched as a large ball of muscle rose to the surface. His 26 inch biceps were a result of long hours swinging his great sword around.
Not forgetting about his lower body, Tyrune checked out his legs. His thighs were all huge and knotted like tree trunks. His calves were large balls of muscle that bulged every time he shifted his weight. And finally, there was his cock, which hung at a full, long 12½ inch soft length with a pair of plum-sized balls nestled in a forest of red hair. He looked good, and he knew it.
As he prepared to get into the tub, his nose wrinkled. Personally, he hated baths. A lot. Bathing was what women did to look and smell pretty, but Tyrune was a man, and in his eyes a real man was someone who smelled of sweat and dust, with his only baths being from riding in the rain or swimming in the river. Instead of dunking himself into the tub like he was supposed to, Tyrune briefly washed his hands and face with the water, just enough to make them look cleaner. Then, Tyrune withdrew a small jar of dirt from one of the chamber’s cabinets and sprinkled a good amount into the water, just dirtying it enough to make it looked like it had been used. With that out of the way, Tyrune lay back, pulled out a bottle of spiced wine from a secret nook and relaxed back on the divan.
“This isn’t so bad,” he said as he took a swig straight out of the bottle. “That elf thinks I had a bath, I get to relax, and everybody is happy.”
“So this is why you still smell like a sty!”
Before Tyrune could react, he was suddenly thrown off the divan and sent flying into the bath with a huge splash! Thrashing around for a bit, he stood up and looked up. Seemingly out of thin air, Alron appeared as he lifted his invisibility spell.
“I knew there was a reason why your aura hadn’t improved in the slightest; it’s because you haven’t done a single thing I asked you to!” His stern face twisted in anger. “So I did a little digging and found out about your pre-dinner snacks and trips to the ale barrels late at night, and now I find out that you’ve been faking your baths as well. I’ll admit that I’ve been taking things lightly because I was afraid of being too hard on you like I was with Jasper, but it’s clear to me now that it’s high time I take this seriously!”
Alron barked several magic words, causing the waters around the boy to swirl around faster and faster until it shot out of the tub and wrapped itself around Tyrune like a snake.
“Wh-what are you doing!?” Tyrune demanded, trying to break free but found even his strength unable to do anything. The water simply went faster and tighter around him, constantly moving like a river current.
“Giving you a thorough cleaning,” Alron replied mercilessly as he made a twisting jerk with his hand. The water then rushed all across Tyrune’s body, scrubbing and washing his body clean. Tyrune gave a cry as the water flooded into every curve crevice in his body, flowing through some…sensitive areas.
“S-stop it. Sto…hahaha, stop it!” Tyrune laughed uncontrollably as the water tickled him. It swept through his pits, into his belly button, between his ass cheeks and around his co-
“Stop it, you fucking elf bastard!” Tyrune roared at the top of his lungs. Magic swelled from his body and blew up the water.
Alron didn’t even flinch back in the slightest. “It seems like I need to wash out your mouth as well.”
“You-” Before Tyrune could say anything else, the water shot back and flooded his mouth. Before long he was right back where he started, trapped in a prison made of water. He wanted to gag from the bitter taste of the soap and herbs in his mouth, but all that did was fill it with more water. He tried to do what he did before and somehow use his magic to break free again, but it just wouldn’t come to him. Helpless, he could only thrash as he received the washing of a lifetime.
Finally satisfied that he was as clean as can be, Alron released the spell, causing all the water to splash back into the tub. As Tyrune dragged himself out of the bath, he was absolutely furious. No one had ever humiliated him like that, ever! With a cry of rage he lunged towards Alron, ready to beat the living daylights out of him. The wizard merely waved his hand and conjured a shield spell and watched the king smash his face against it.
“You’re a century too young if you think you can defeat me so easily,” Alron told him. “Brute force won’t work against my hundreds of years of discipline and training.”
“Damn you!” Tyrune yelled as he slammed his fist into the shield as hard as he could, and normally it would have bounced off harmlessly, leaving Alron completely safe, but the wizard noticed something at the last minute and barely dodged the fist that came crashing right through the shield.
Impossible…he shouldn’t have been able to do that, he observed. “It looks like there’s still some dirt in your mouth,” Alron said out loud as he cast another spell to send Tyrune flying back into the tub.
Once again Tyrune forced himself to stand up, now shaking with unspeakable anger towards his master. “One of these days I’ll beat you. One of these days, I’ll make you sorry for everything you’ve done to me.”
“Then I suggest you start getting serious about your studies,” Alron told him. “The sooner you become a master wizard, the sooner you’ll be able to stand up to me properly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have a firm word with the chefs to stop supplying you with those horridly fat meats.” Before the king could do anything else, Alron vanished, teleporting out of the room.
Throwing his head back, Tyrune roared in anguish.