A Wizard's Tale

by Natasha Weber

For instance, when we were at the bridge a week after she had sat next to me on that bench. It was cloudy that day, and she was looking so thoughtful and… sad. Like she always was.

  She brightened when she saw me. I stood next to her silently. After many minutes, she asked; “have you ever known a Human, Keenan?”

  “Yes. He was my best friend.” I answered.

  “Have you ever… seen a Human die?” She inquired.

  “Why?” I raised an eyebrow.

  She said nothing, pushing her hair back behind her shoulder. She blinked her sadness and loss.

  I sighed, looking into my reflection. “I loved that Human. Watching him die was like torture. It was so slow and anguishing. I didn’t even want to accept what was happening. He just wasted away, and I could do nothing to save him.”

  “Humans are hard to be close with. They die and you don’t change. Sometimes, I just wish I could die with them. There’s something wonderful about how innocent and blind-eyed they all are, because they don’t live long.” She said thoughtfully.

  “Don’t say things like that,” I whispered. “I know there are days when it’s just hard to breathe when you become really old, but your life is always worth something.”

  She smiled. “You really do believe that, don’t you? You are young still. When you are my age, you might not be so sure.”

  I frowned. “When did you start believing your life was worthless?”

  “When I woke up to be two-thousand years old, and everyone I knew was dead, and my species was dying because of idiotic wars.” She said sarcastically. “I sometimes wonder when Elves became so stupid.”

  “You don’t really don’t believe that your life is worthless,” I countered.

  “Uh-huh. And why would you think that?”

  “You’d be dead by now if you did.” I grinned.

  She giggled. “You got me.” And she kissed my forehead.

  She might have seemed like a downer to anybody else, and quite creepy as well. And it was true. She had her reasons though. She had probably seen a lot of hate, death, anger, and violence in her time. I wondered, then, if she remembered the good things about life. I didn’t think she did. She rejected love, companionship, and anything else having to do with others, because she was disgusted by them.

  She noticed everything.

  So it was no surprise that she noticed the scars on my wrists on the sixth week I met with her. This time, it was raining out, and we were sitting under a group of trees in the village. It was freezing. But Caity was never cold.

  “So,” she said, lying on her belly and putting her hands on her cheeks, “are you ever going to tell me about those scars?”

  I rolled down my sleeves, slightly miffed. “Are you ever going to tell me anything about you?”

  “I’ll tell you one thing about me, if you tell me about the scars,” she offered.

  I thought about it for a whole minute. It was my most personal story, and I almost didn’t feel like giving it up. But I assented. I was dying to know more about this girl.

  “Do you know about Anima?” I began.

  “Only that it’s a lifeforce magic.” She replied.

  “I don’t know what it takes to use dark magic, but Anima is… painful. Not in the usual sense of the word. You need an absolutely clear mind to use it—no emotions. My Dad would drill me for hours each day, trying to get me to cast anything. He did this in front of the entire village, just to humiliate me into learning it faster. I would stand there for hours, hurting my brain trying to set a target on fire. It was impossible to clear my mind when my cheeks were burning red with embarrassment. After so many years of embarrassment, I finally had had enough. I decided I would no longer feel anything. And then I was able to use Anima.”

  I paused and said nothing for a time. She slumped down on her belly and crossed her arms under her chin. “And…?”

  “And… I don’t know. It had been so long… I just wanted to feel something.” I squeezed my wrist blankly. “Anyway. Tell me something about you.”

  “Well, my middle name is Celeste,” she said with a mischievous smile.

  I chuckled. “Oh c’mon something important.”

  “You don’t think my middle name is important? What if we were to get married and you didn’t know it?” She joked.

  “I could guess something about you, if that’d be easier.” I offered.

  Her smile got bigger. “Go ahead.”

  “You once loved a Human.” I began.

  “Nope.”

  “A Dwarf or Pixie who died?” I continued.

  “Nope.” She was laughing; clearly I was way off.

  “An Elf?”

  “Uh-uh,”

  “You used to have different colored hair?” That was a throw away, but she paused. She nodded slowly.

  “You used to be a blonde?” I went on.

  “Brunette.” She examined her nails uncomfortably.

  “It changed because of Dark Magic…?” I was no longer asking in a joking or playful manner. We were both dead serious.

  “Yes.” She glanced up at me, and then back to her nails.

  I lay on my belly in front of her and put my hand on hers. “Do you want to stop talking about this?”

  “Yes.” She answered. Not looking me in the eyes. I knew I had struck a chord. “I don’t wish to play anymore.”

 

  Later that week, at night while I was trying to sleep, Caitria sent a shadow out to give me a letter. The shadow was only a hand and arm attached to the ground. I grabbed the letter from it tentatively. I knew it was from Caitria. It was simply a letter asking me to come urgently. Disregarding safety, I hopped out of bed and headed to our place on the bridge. Usually, I loved nighttime. It was cool out, you could see so many stars twinkling in the sky; the air had a certain feel to it that just made me feel like I was alive. But tonight… tonight I couldn’t help but be a little frightened. It was strange. When I was with Caitria, she seemed like the most intelligent, sweet—albeit a bit cynical—knowledgeable girl in the world. She wasn’t threatening by any means. It was when she left and I got to thinking about her that she suddenly seemed it a little off. And creepy. It was the way she looked at me the entire time, like she had no faith in me, or anything else, and was fully ready to defend herself.

  In any case, I arrived at our bridge. She was looking thoughtful as always. She always looked so sad when she thought no one was looking. She looked my way. “There you are. I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

  “You aren’t still mad?” I said awkwardly.

  “About what?” She was confused.

  “About my questions?”

  “Oh, that. It’s gone.” She said with a smile, ruffling my hair.

  “So, then, what’s so urgent?” I wondered.

  She gripped the railing of the bridge tightly. “Will you promise to help me, no questions asked?”

  “Of course,” I said, without question.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Then I need to knock you out.” She insisted.

  “Knock me out?” I said skeptically.

  “Yes.”

  “Then, go ahead.” I assented.

  “You would really… trust me?” She asked hesitantly, her eyes wide.

  I held her hand in mine. “I trust you.”

  “You are the nicest person I’ve ever met.” She leaned down and kissed my forehead. And then, I was asleep.

  Whatever she had done, I would forgive her. Because there was no one I loved more in the world.

 

  “You forgave her? Even after that? Didn’t you realize she was bad news?” Mr. Serious did not know Miss Caitria Veline. If he had, he never would have called her bad news.

  “Bad news? Why? Because she used Dark Magic? Because she kept to herself? Because other people thought she was bad news? I’ll admit Caitria had her issues but… I knew just b
y looking at her she never meant anyone harm,” I retorted defensively.

  “She was missing a few screws from being alive for too long, from what you tell me.” He commented.

  I agreed. “She was… eccentric. But for me, it only added to her charm. There was just nobody else like her. I… miss her.”

  “But you must admit… playing with Dark Magic… no sensible creature would--”

  “Caitria was an Elf,” I interrupted, “All Elves have Dark Magic. No other species can use it. It’s a part of them. Sometimes it’s not used as it should be, but you can’t condemn her for being born with it.”

  “No. Only what she did with it, and from what I heard…”

  “You will hear the truth from me. All of it.”

  “You aren’t looking well today, Keenan.” Caitria said worriedly when I met up with her again. She knelt down to my height and checked my temperature, and then she examined my eyes carefully.

  I stayed her hand. “I feel fine, Caitria.”

  She sighed. “Could you sit down? I want to tell you a story.”

  “Is it a nice story?”

  “No. I, um…” She moved her long hair out of her face again. She laughed. “Well, it’s about me so you can imagine it can’t be all happy…”

  “I think you’re happier than you let on.” I said, following her to our place beneath the trees.

  She went red. “Maybe since I met you…”

  We sat down and I put my hand on hers. She blushed as she gathered her thoughts.

  “Did you know Dark Magic was discovered?” She finally said.

  “No. I thought Elves were just born with it.” I was surprised.

  “I knew the girl who discovered it. She was my sister, Eira. Nobody would believe me if I told them, and you don’t have to believe me, either. You see, Eira