Page 55 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“Why do you keep shifting from old to young and back again?”

“I don’t understand why it is happening. But I stayed in the form of the old sorcerer for a hundred years for a reason.”

“A hundred years?” Her hand stilled and she stared into his eyes. “You really are old. But I must admit, I like your younger self better.”

“So do I.”

“Why did you stay in the form of an old man for such a long time?”

He sighed and raised his hand to stroke the side of her cheek. “I was once young, pompous, and foolish. I was also married.”

“You were?” she sounded surprised. “So what happened? And do you have children?”

“Nay, I never had children. I watched my wife grow old, suffer and eventually die.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She rubbed some balm gently onto his hand. “It was because you were immortal and she wasn’t.”

“That’s right. When I first stole the Eternal Flame, I had no idea what the consequences would be.”

Her hand stilled and she talked without looking at him. “What do you mean?”

“I had heard of the Eternal Flame and that it made one invincible and also immortal. I thought it would be a good thing and so I stole it. But in doing so, the true Keeper died.”

“What kind of consequences do you mean?” She sounded very interested.

“I thought it was a blessing at first but, as the years passed, I realized it was really a curse. You see, I was immortal, but those I loved were not. Can you even imagine how painful it was to watch everyone I ever cared for die while I lived on forever?”

“You were in love with your wife, weren’t you?”

“I was. Petronilla was the love of my life. The day she died, I shapeshifted into the form of the old sorcerer because I never wanted to fall in love again.”

“I see.” She wiped off her hands and slowly bound his wound. “I’m surprised you never had children.”

“Couldn’t,” he answered. “When I stole the flame, I was the new Keeper. Keepers of the Flame cannot spawn children.”

“They can’t?” Her head snapped upward. “Why not?”

“It’s part of the magic. A protection of sorts. Probably so the Keeper doesn’t have to go through the pain of seeing their children die someday.”

“Oh my.” Hope put away the ointments and balms. “That is horrible.”

“What about you?” he asked.

Her body froze and she didn’t look at him. “What about me?”

“What is your story?”

“No story.” She pushed the basket away. “I have been sent as a ward to many lords but it never lasts long.”

“Why not?”

“They all think I’m some sort of a witch.”

“Are you?” He looked down and tugged at the wrapping on his arm.

“If you’re a sorcerer, I’d think you’d know if I were a witch or not.”

“You’re not.”