The Young Magician

goodbyes. Kans pushed the groaning gates closed behind them and then rushed back inside the inn.

Samuel returned to his room and changed into his more comfortable bedclothes. He crawled into his bed and closed his eyes tightly, hoping for a restful few hours’ sleep before dawn when his chores began again. He had no idea what was causing this recent stir amongst the men of the Burning Oak and his inability to find out was becoming more and more frustrating.

Weeks passed uneventfully after that night, with no further comings or goings and Samuel had plenty of spare time to spend with Jessicah, for Mr Kelvin had felt terribly guilty after Samuel’s beating and now allowed him to go to town three times a week.

Samuel spent every evening practising the movements and the breathing exercises he had learned. Most nights, he could get the glow between his hands and sometimes even send it floating away to dissipate against the wall with a slow, blue splash. It exhilarated Samuel to see the lights he could create, but he wished to know more, to be able to do more. He never dared to try and make the light during the day, only when he was sure it was late and he would not be discovered. He was sure he would be punished for spying on the men and learning their secrets. Perhaps they would even lock him up or do something terrible to him. When magic was involved, who knew what strange things the men could do?

‘Lomar?’ Samuel asked, as they both sat in the boughs of the Oldforth tree that stood amidst the gardens. ‘Do you believe in magic?’

‘Of course I do, Samuel,’ Lomar returned, raising a quizzical eye from his drawing. He had a charcoal marker in one hand and a piece of thick paper in the other, sketching a scene of the garden. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘You tell me all those stories of other lands and myths and fairies and goblins, yet I have never seen any of those things. Do they really exist, or are they just stories? Is there really such magic?’

Lomar balanced his implements beside him, next to the row of coloured chalks that wobbled on the branch, and thought a moment. ‘There is often a little truth, and a little mistruth, in everything that is said,’ he began. ‘What is true in one circumstance may be false in another. I have never seen fairies or goblins, but that is not to say they do not exist. I thought dwarves were mere tales until I first saw one with my own eyes. It is not unusual to see a small-person, as they prefer to be called, born to full-sized parents.’

‘How is that so?’ Samuel asked, curious.

‘It is just something that happens,’ Lomar replied with a bob of his shoulders. ‘Just as sometimes people are born with notable differences, some are born with unusually short stature, but they are normal people, just as you and I.’

‘Do they like to dig underground?’

‘Not overly, no,’ Lomar returned with amusement. ‘So you can see how a fable has been created from truth. There are, indeed, dwarves, but they do not congregate in underground cities and spend their lives whistling and digging for precious gems. I think, too, that many other legends have had some root in truth.’

‘And magic?’ Samuel asked persistently with a glint in his eye.

‘People sometimes like to discuss whether or not magic actually exists. You have seen my tricks, but that is not magic; it is merely a skill. My hands are adept at hiding things before the eye can notice. People cannot fly upon broom handles or turn others into toads, but, given practice, a man may accomplish tasks that seem absolute miracles to others. Using talents that others find rare, men may name themselves magicians and call what they do magic, but it is all an extension of natural gifts which they have finely honed.’

Samuel’s brow was furrowed. Lomar always answered with riddles and more questions. Samuel had seen magic and he knew it existed. He had even done some himself and thought he was getting quite good at it, too.

‘There are many magicians in the Turian Empire,’ Lomar added, having noted Samuel’s discontent and the boy then looked up with expectation. ‘Mostly, they are welcomed and openly accepted, but here, in Marlen, we are quite far from the great capital and people still hold age-old contempt for magic. The magicians that live here tend to keep to themselves.’

‘So there are magicians!’ Samuel spurted out with excitement and Lomar hushed him furiously with a wave of his hands. Finally, Samuel had managed to squeeze the admission out of someone! ‘Are you a magician?’ Samuel then asked, hoping for a continuation of his good luck.

‘You have seen my magic,’ Lomar returned with a grin, snatching up his brush and then making it vanish in his hands. ‘So, obviously, I must be. Now, enough of the matter. I want to finish this drawing before I lose the sun, for tomorrow I must leave once more.’

Samuel felt as disappointed as ever. Lomar had evaded him once again. One day, he would have his answer. These men were obviously all magicians. Only making them admit the fact was proving difficult. Creating lights and igniting candles was obviously magic and couldn’t be explained away as something else. No amount of twisting of words or slyness of tongue could dissuade Samuel of that. He only wondered what other amazing things they could do and how he could trick them into letting him know their secrets.

On one particular night, creating the glowing ball was especially easy and Samuel set it to rest just above his head, where, instinctively, he knew it would stay. He summoned several other such glow-balls and placed those beside the first, so that they cast a ghostly blue-white light over his room as they slowly bobbed up and down. Then, however, Samuel found it particularly hard to summon a fifth ball. He had never done so many before and he decided stubbornly that tonight would be the night to do it. He caught the sensation he needed in his mind and groped at it blindly with all his will. The sensation of magic was as slippery as soap in a washtub and he fumbled after the elusive feeling as best he could. Each time he nearly let it slip, he changed his approach slightly and pinpointed the energy once more. Finally, with an almost tangible click, Samuel found the mindset he needed and he knew the magic was coming. His hands vibrated with the resonance of his thoughts and he felt another glow-ball on the verge of manifestation. The other glow-balls blinked out and vanished without warning and Samuel chastised himself in the back of his mind for this, but he forced himself to keep his attention on the task at hand, else all his practice would be for naught.

A new light then began to creep from in-between Samuel’s slightly parted palms. There was a strange discomfort in Samuel’s head, but he ignored it, intent on perfecting this creation. The light grew in intensity until it had surpassed any previous attempt in size and strength. Still, however, Samuel could not coax it to become a self-sustaining ball. He kept pressing his efforts between his hands, and sweat dropped from his brow and sizzled into vapour as it touched the burning light he had summoned. An audible crackling and popping came from the air all around as if things were spontaneously coming into existence. Slowly, as Samuel shook with the strain, he managed to draw his hands apart and the light wobbled and spun on its own, finally settling into a well-formed sphere.

Samuel relaxed and wiped his face dry with his arm. He was sure he had never used so much effort before, and Samuel was completely pleased with himself. With a fingertip, he nudged the ball up above his head. He could feel that this ball was much stronger than the others. It would probably last all night long before fading away. He just hoped no one came before it did, for he had not yet discovered how to make his glow-balls disappear at will. They merely faded after a time or when they felt like it, so it seemed.

Strangely, the new glow-ball hovered back down from the ceiling and refused to be sent back up, no matter how Samuel coaxed it. He examined it closely with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. It was such a strange-looking glow-ball.

‘Oosoo ahn…’ came a long, dry whisper and Samuel nearly jumped out of his skin with fright.

Two dark circles appeared on the orb, followed by a third beneath, which smiled. The orb had a face! Two long, pale arms unfolded from the central mass, and a long, legless torso tapered down behind. Samuel was both curious and unsure and he stared at the thing with eyes wide. A long-fingered hand stretched out and touched Samuel on the shoulder. Its touch was needle-sharp and icy cold.

‘Oosoo ahn…’ again it called, soft and dry.

Samuel backed away, bumping into the wall, as the spirit began examining his room. It looked at his bed and his desk, pausing to view the notes that lay all over it, seeming to read them and smiling with satisfaction. It then