By M. J. Ray
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Extra resources for Aboriginal language use in the Northern Territory: 5 reports (Work papers of SIL-AAB)
Morkai the Red, my former master, is dead," Kessell reiterated softly. " "Easy, friend," said Eldeluc, putting a comforting hand on Kessell's nervously twitching shoulder. " He smiled and winked at Dendybar from behind Kessell's head. Kessell's mind was whirling, lost in a daydream search through all of the ramifications of his pending appointment. Never again would he be taunted by the other apprentices, boys much younger than he who climbed through the ranks in the guild step by tedious step.
The burly Eldeluc laughed aloud. The gruesome task was at last completed; they could finally leave this barren stretch of frozen desert and return home. * * * * * Kessell's step was sprightly as he made his way across the village of Easthaven to the barn where the wizards' horses had been stabled. He felt as though becoming a wizard would change every aspect of his daily life, as if some mystical strength had somehow been infused into his previously incompetent talents. He tingled in anticipation of the power that would be his.
He held his outstretched palm skyward and through chattering teeth uttered the words of power. Nothing. Not even a wisp of smoke. So he started moving again. His legs ached; he almost believed that several of his toes had already fallen away from his left foot. But he didn't dare remove his boot to verify his morbid suspicion. He began to circumnavigate the bowl again, following the same trail he had left behind on his first pass. Abruptly, he found himself veering toward the middle. He didn't know why; and in his delirium, he didn't pause to try and figure it out.