6 The World of Sorcerers

Morse was tall for this era, standing at 5'11 with dark brown hair. The bags that formed under his eyes showed a clear lack of sleep, ironic considering he manipulated dreams. His face was strong and masculine, reminiscent of the tribal era was born into. He had a small birthmark on the left cheek which looked like an arrowhead, pointing directly at his left eye. He stood in front of Tasan with barely an expression on his face, except for the slight squint in his eyes, giving away the amusement he felt. 

Tasan was a 12-year-old boy, and he had grown well during the years Morse instructed him in his dreams. He had ragged black hair, reminiscent of his mother's side, while he also had light green eyes, inherited from his father.

Tasan looked up at Morse with a stary-eyed look any young boy might have when they meet their 'heroes' in person. But it wasn't just the fact that Tasan was meeting someone whom he had only met in his dreams, no, it was also because he could sense the amount of cursed energy Morse was emitting on purpose. Morse had come to instruct Tasan in person and do what he could not while in the dream realm. Making a powerful first impression was paramount.

The amount of cursed energy he released was so staggering to the boy, that Tasan felt like there was physical pressure on his body. But this only enhanced the stary-eyed wonder he was feeling at meeting his dream teacher in person. There was a natural closeness that was felt with Morse between anyone whom he taught in their dreams, but this was felt especially strongly by Tasan who had spent more time than most with him.

"It's time I taught you in person," Morse stated in his, deep scratchy voice.

"In your dreams, you once agreed with me that you'd become a sorcerer." he paused before continuing.

"Now, it's time to finish your training" He finished while slowly gesturing at the side of his head.

"Mr. Morse! I'm happy to see you!" He started moving around excitedly.

"Nobody in the village would believe me. But now that you're here, they can't deny it anymore." Tasan muttered.

Morse looked down at the 12-year-old calmly.

"Tomorrow morning, we will start 'Task' training. I have already discussed it with your parents, prepare yourself. " Morse said, raising his eyebrow.

He glanced at the last few rays of sunset that were passing through the room before looking over the boy discretely. It only took a few moments before he unconsciously shook his head and spoke.

"It's late now. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Morse patted him on the shoulder before turning around and leaving.

He had only come to take a quick look at him in person, but he didn't find anything unusual. The world's increase in cursed energy couldn't have come from him at the very least.

"Oh, alright! See you," Tasan shouted excitedly to his back as he left.

...

The next morning.

Morse stood in front of a wooden cart, hitched to a donkey. Inside it was the wheat harvest supplies that Red Moon village often traded with other villages. At the front of the cart, walked the trader of the village, Trasa, while Morse and Tasan walked next to him.

Due to the influence of Morse, the technology tree of this era had grown crookedly. Most tools were made of wood or stone and the era was nowhere close to the bronze age. However, the advancements in agriculture, societal culture, and medicine were abnormally advanced through his influence. This left the villages of this era with very little incentive to go to war due to the lack of metal weapons and the life expectancy of the average person had nearly doubled compared to the normal era.

Diseases like the common cold do happen, but they are not nearly as deadly as they should be during this time. This led to the villages specializing in growing crops, medicine, or focusing on the husbandry of animals, while the economic advancements involving trade were in the beginning stages, still a form of barter system.

This cart was one such method of trade between villages and it was headed by Trasa with the destination being Sun Morn village, a village that focused on growing herbs for medicines due to their naturally rich, but small arable land.

"Mr. Morse, I've never left the village before," Tasan said, his voice trembling slightly.

Morse glanced at him, before returning his gaze to the surroundings.

"It's a big world. If you are scared to leave home, you'll never be a good sorcerer." Morse commented.

Tasan's body seemed to straighten up and he put on a strong front.

"I'm not scared." He stated firmly, but somehow it didn't feel very believable.

...

Time passed as the donkey pulled the cart until the day began to turn into night. Trasa let his donkey rest, while they stopped for the night.

A warm fire crackled in front of each of them, which held a smooth stone bowl, filled with the remains of a thick meaty stew. At the side of Morse and Tasan, were their smaller empty stone bowls, clean from the meal.

"Thank you for the meal, Reaper Protector," Trasa said, bowing his head slightly towards Morse.

"You're welcome," Morse said without changing his expression.

Morse looked at Tasan as he stood up.

"Come. Follow me." He grunted and started walking off into the darkened woods around him.

Tasan wordlessly followed after him as they walked for a short while until Morse came to a stop in front of a Grade 4 curse, wrapped around a tree.

It looked like a cross between a human's literal intestines and a snake, coiled around the base of the tree, waiting to strike.

"Exorcise it," Morse ordered.

"Yes," Tasan responded seriously and took a fighting stance.

His demeanor changed slightly as a shallow look of 'confidence' born of repeated training took over out of habit.

Author's Note: 

I'm gonna make a mess of the history of the world and this takes a lot of world-building. If you see plot holes let me know.