The Professor and the Starlight Phoenix

by Nathan David Ward

  Grimtale was sunk on his stool, arched over the surface of his desk space with a quill in one hand crafting words on parchment, and the other outstretched, gently petting his companion, Quibble. She was a small penguin-like creature with pearlescent purple coloured feathers, a long, sharp orange beak and two beady black eyes. She sat quietly perched on top of Grimtale’s golden ornate burner, glaring down at the parchment beneath it, following her master's hand under the glowing amber. The small room was dark and the silence was only disturbed by the sound of Grimtale’s quill, etching away, and an occasional chirp.

  His eyes were growing heavier after carefully wording the letter, but after signing at the bottom with his name and a kiss, he began a final read through, occasionally whispering a sentence or two, just to ensure it sounded as good as it did in his head:

  Dear Sachester,

  I find myself reaching the end of another sleepless night, wishing you were at my

  side.

  I write to you bearing good news. Robin has returned and we have high hopes of

  him joining us tonight, to help evacuate the Phoenix from Shoulders Heath.

  I know you’ve never been fond of Silverstein, but in less than twenty four hours,

  Robin will have his post back, if he chooses to stay, that is. Then Silverstein will

  have no choice but to move on, to which I hope you reconsider my offer and join me

  at the Institute. You belong with us.

  P.s the cavalry arrived safely. I owe you a great deal. Thank you my love, and keep

  safe.

  P. H Grimtale X

  “That'll have to do.”

  Knowing there could have been a million other ways to phrase it, he returned his quill to the inkwell and drew his secondary wand from the top drawer that was already left ajar. It was a short eight inch wand with a pebbly handle and vicious looking fangs sprouting from the bottom like roots. It was an off white colour and the shaft had a hint of silver that shimmered as he held it close to the parchment, under the radiant glow of the lamp.

  The Quibble made a snappy chirp, hopping from the lamp, on to the desk then up to Grimtale’s shoulder, cowering behind his fluffy jacket collar.

  “Oh, there’s nothing to be afraid of Nibble, just some pretty sparks and then I'll be off to bed, and that’s a promise!”

  Nibble peaked her beady eyes out from under Grimtale’s collar, watching as the tip of his wand began to illuminate as he cast the transportation spell:

  “Senteer...”

  He then pictured precisely where the letter had to go, painting an image of Sachester’s bedroom and the pillowcase he wanted it to materialise on. It was strong and vibrant in his mind as the parchment began to wind itself up nice and tight before evaporating behind a popping explosion of yellow sparkle.

  “It’s just quicker that way,” he assured Nibble, who had usually delivered all his mail; however Shoulders Heath was no longer a place for the cute and fluffy. One half was delightful, where Sachester lived - but it wasn’t worth the risk of sending Nibble, not after the Phoenix sightings, she’d barely serve as an appetiser. Grimtale felt most comfortable knowing she was safe in his lodge, perched on her favourite branch which stemmed from a potted plant beside his bed.

  “Yes, I know what you’re thinking. If a Reaper was on the other end they could have torn their way through to the Institute - but Sachester is safe, her entire town is protected.”

  She chirped again, swaying on her stick thin legs as Grimtale rose from his stool with Nibble still firmly latched on to his shoulder.

  “Nothing bad can filter the defenses, it’s been field tested.”

  He turned a knob on the desk lamp and the flame slowly shrunk until the room was dark with a hue of pink glowing around the door frame.

  “What do you mean ‘am I certain’?” he asked in reply to her chirp, “I trust in Professor Yuri’s capabilities as inventor. He had the stone at hand to help with his research, with thanks to Sachester. So yes, I’m more than certain, my feathered friend.”

  He made one last effort to smile as he approached his bed, he pulled back the fresh linen, then after Nibble had hopped on to her branch he slumped down on to the soft mattress, exhaling a sigh of relief as his head sank deep against plump pillows.

  “Goodnight, Nibble,” he whispered, already slipping away into a deeply desired dream.

  Nibble remained perched on her branch, watching with her beady black eyes as her master slept and the morning began to slip away.

  * * *

  A little further along the winding corridor that connected all of the lodges, a weary Flint Yuri appeared with Robin Occamy in tow. He now had a large rusty key in one hand and looked pleased to finally be on the top floor after a long and treacherous climb.

  “Just out of curiosity, why do you still use keys? I mean, I thought you’d just zap the locks with your wands,” Robin went to flick his wand as a means of demonstrating what he meant, but Yuri suddenly snatched it from his hand and tucked it away back inside Robin's waistcoat.

  “They’re not toys, okay? And yes, we do use them for locking doors and unlocking padlocks; however, it doesn't work on them all, especially yours.”

  “M-mine?” Robin asked, scuttling along behind Yuri.

  “Your lodge, ” he replied as they arrived at a dark wooden door with deep grain running from high to low. “This lock had an enchantment cast on it. Magic doesn't work on it, as it seemed for the best - just in case anyone got curious. But here, we have this…”

  He handed the rusty key over to Robin as his eyes registered surprise, seeing something he had not expected – before him was a long metal stamp nailed across the top of the door with an engraving that read:

  Professor R. Occamy.

  CHAPTER 12

  Professor Occamy

  The silver plaque shimmered as Yuri‘s wand began to flicker, emitting a harsh white light. He lowered it towards the rusty doorknob, illuminating the sharp edges of the key hole underneath. There were no windows or open viewpoints along the corridor, it was usually lit by old torches that hung from the walls, a few meters apart from tower to tower; however, everyone had gotten lazy on this particular day and deprived of sleep, they hadn’t bothered to light them, even though it only took an effortless swish of the wand they preferred their own ludicrous methods, which as expected ended with twisted ankles and profound language being hurled at thin air - much to the amusement of the tiny critters overhead, who watched from their enormous sticky webs that stretched from wall to wall.

  There was a heavy clang of metal as Robin began to force the rigid key into the door, bypassing the protective charm that rippled rays of green energy as his hand sunk through it like jelly. He then turned the key and the door clonked as the latch retracted, releasing it from its locked state.

  “Here you go, Professor.”

  Robin went to hand back the key to Yuri, who immediately pressed it into Robin’s palm.

  “You’d best hang on to that. This old place will have you coming back for more.”

  “But I won’t be staying long - twenty four hours and I’m back through that puddle. So please take the key, I’ll only lose it.”

  Yuri decided he wasn’t going to argue, so he retrieved the key and dropped it back in to his waistcoat pocket.

  “You know you won’t have to travel that way anymore. It’s just because you hadn’t seen the institute before, there wasn’t a memory to lock on to. I take it you know how it works?”

  “I’ve been told how it doesn’t work, the risks that accompany it. Seems pretty simple to me.”

  Robin returned his attention to the door as a spark of excitement ignited within him. Not wasting any time, he grabbed hold of the doorknob and gave it a push, glancing over his shoulder at Yuri.

  “It’s been a while, ok... ”

  “You might need to be a little more vigorous.”

  Robin smirked and drew a deep breath, inflating his chest before throwing
his body against the door. He fell straight in to the room and flat on his backside as the door swung inwards and slammed abruptly against a nearby bookshelf. The sudden impact kicked up a thick cloud of dust which reached every corner of the room, it became incredibly difficult to see anything in the dust cloud as Robin jumped back to his feet, standing directly in the centre of sunlight that blazed through the window opposite him.

  “It’s been a while?” said Yuri as he quickly slipped the key in to Robin's satchel, then began to pat away the dust from his coat.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

  Robin gave that reply as he walked on through the haze, towards a shape that resembled a bed, running along the wall under the beam of light that was reflecting through a pane of distorted glass in the window.

  Slowly but surely, as Robin stood at ease, the dusty particles began to settle and the spirit of the room came to light after many years of being stored away. Yuri was silent, recollecting memories as they sprung from the woodwork.

  Robin had noticed a dark wooden wardrobe beside the bed, then a small gas fireplace in the middle of the room with an extractor running high into the ceiling.

  Where many other rooms had luxurious curtains draped in front of the windows, Robin's did not; however, it did have a means of keeping warm on those oh so cold winter nights.

  Robin looked relieved to see it. He crouched in front of the grill and turned to Yuri, “Do you have a spell for this?” he asked, pulling his wand from his waistcoat pocket.

  “Yeah, it’s - Pirontious,” he replied, smiling as he pressed his spectacles back to the bridge of his nose.

  Robin looked down at the wand held firm in his hand. He took a sharp breath and pointed it between the metal slats, then screamed “Pirontious” in an overly dramatic tone as clearly as he could - just to be certain.

  There was a rusty squeal as a small lever shot forward, releasing the gas in to the chamber. Then a short bolt of fire shot from the tip of Robin’s wand, igniting the fireplace. There were already coal leftovers inside, so plenty of fuel to begin warming the stone cold room.

  Robin looked satisfied, gleaming with the orangey glow from the fire, painted against his face.

  “Well isn’t that just marvellous!” he exclaimed as he removed his satchel and threw it on to the bed.

  “I think we’re going to get along, me and you,” he added, regarding the wand between his fingers, “- I think I’ll be ok now.”

  Yuri moved a little closer, “Well, if you need me, you’d best come find me, or failing that just wait till I return, because you’ll only get lost. It’s like your first day back to school, most exciting,” he chirped, rubbing his hands together, “Everything there is to know lies within this very room. Best of luck.”

  He reached for the doorknob and slowly pulled it to; as he left the room Robin was still sat on his knees, enjoying the warmth and the low roar of the flames behind the grill of the fireplace.

  There was finally a sense of homeliness as Robin observed the surroundings, studying the paintings and ornamental junk on the shelving. Everything could do with a good clean, now that dust had settled again. The brass telescope was dull, the globe of the world didn’t spin anymore - it's pivot had seized up entirely. If only there was a quick spell for effortless cleaning; there had to be a simple solution, the rest of the institute was spotless, even the golden statues in the foyer were sparkling, and they were suspended twenty feet off the ground. He couldn’t imagine anyone dusting those, but as his mind wandered, he found it quite amusing, the idea of a tiny man, running along the ceiling with a bright fluffy duster - it seemed the only other logical explanation, he chuckled, shifting his gaze from the brass ornaments to the heavily worn, yet beautifully decorated floorboards beneath him.

  He hadn’t even noticed the drawings - wonderfully detailed drawings, smeared into the wood grain - now far less evident as their inconsistent forms reflected the passing of seasons and the years of abuse, served by the rubber soles on Robin’s boots.

  “These are old - very old,” he disclosed as he made his way back beside the bed where the artwork was far less faded. That side of the room was slowly warming, so he swiftly removed his mustard frock coat and laid it beside his satchel on top of the bed.

  “I’m seeing a pattern with these!”

  He got back down on his knees and began examining the drawings, running his hand along the grain to help identify the hidden segments.

  “Whoever drew them had some form of fixation with freakish looking birds, assuming they are meant to be birds...”

  As he inspected each drawing, one particular doodle caught his attention, half hidden by shadow, half caught in sunlight. The colours only confirmed his suspicions as he took a closer look and realised he’d seen it before, he’d seen something, anyway - the blue and turquoise feathers, he remembered it as clear as day...

  “He was telling the truth. You’re what everyone saw over Vinemoore on Christmas Eve!”

  Robin stared intently at the drawing of the bird, he recalled the colours in the sky that night and Charlie Brown, insisting that a giant bird had just flown over the village.

  The dots were beginning to join, but a question amongst many had arisen to the foreground of Robin’s mind:

  What does this have to do with me?

  Given a moment to wander, as the sound of the wind whistled down the chimney, he inspected the floorboards closely. Then his eyes fell still, slowly widening as they became fixated on a gloomy wide crack under the bed. He hadn’t noticed it up close, it must have blended in with the dark shadowy mass, but after taking a few steps back in surprise, they were there again, what he thought he had seen the first time, two electric-yellow irises staring back at him from beneath the floor. They seemed to be glowing, following Robin as he carefully negotiated his way around the fireplace, backing as far away as possible. He pulled his wand from his waistcoat pocket and pointed it in the direction of the looming, sinister eyes, hoping for no hostility.

  “I - I can see you, under there,” he called, “I don’t mean you harm, however I'm not so sure that’s a mutual intention.”

  The eyes suddenly snapped shut, the yellow glow vanished behind darkness, then the floorboards began to tremor as the unidentified being shot in Robins direction, knocking the woodwork from the ground in a recurring domino fashion as it rapidly approached.

  Robin dived away from the wall then scrambled to his hands and knees, while watching over his shoulder at the floorboards coming undone behind him. He had spotted his wand rolling in the corner of his eye, but as he went to reach for it, there was a scamper of footsteps that swiftly passed under him, then a fleshy mass exploded from under Robin's nose, up from beneath the flooring and into the lodge. Shards of wood clattered back to the floor, powdering the pinky figure with a light layer of sawdust.

  Robin carefully looked up, not knowing what to expect as he felt the heavy presence standing over him, holding him in his vulnerable state, glaring down with its powerful sharp eyes. He could only make out the silhouetted shape of the being as the light from the skies flared through the window, capturing the last of the dusty particles, lingering in the air.

  It had to be human, or something similar, Robin amended as he turned his sights to the dirty, smelly foot, placed firmly beside his head. It’s yellow nails were so long, they had begun to curl in on themselves; and their edges were splintered, each as sharp as pins - they weren’t very pretty.

  “Y-you could do with a manicure, my friend,” Robin muttered, as he began to find his footing. During his ascent, he noticed the dark figure beginning to shrink. It was eye level with his belt buckle, no taller than his daughter, Emily - which he found somewhat amusing. He’d even go as far to say it was cute, at least until it began to speak, stepping aside in to a softer light that complemented its piercing yellow eyes.

  “I would never harm you, Professor!” it snarled, in a rough and viciously sore tone.

  But Robin str
uggled to understand as his attention was somewhat lost, in deep analysis of the creatures long, pointed nose, and large swept back ears that were almost the size of its face.

  He was completely mesmerised by the tiny creature that stood before him - so much so, he was still standing in silence, glaring at its body, awkwardly. Only then did he realise how inappropriate it must have looked when he arrived at the tight white underpants, clung around its groin.

  “Oh!” he jolted forward in embarrassment, “Do forgive me, how awfully rude of me.”

  “No need to worry, I have that effect on people,” said the small creature, to which Robin smiled, shuffled forward and began to pat the creature on its wrinkly head, ever so gently, like he would a cat or dog.

  “No, please don’t do that,” ordered the creature, with a irritated look on its face. Robin stopped immediately, then took a step back.

  “Sorry. I do have a question though, what exactly are you? I mean, where do you come from?”

  The creature waddled beside the bed and reached for Robins wand that had rolled underneath it.

  “Arlie is an imp,” Arlie looked Robin in the eye as he held on to his wand, “Arlie has lived here for as long as he can remember. Robin doesn’t recognise Arlie?” he asked with a frown, staring at Robin who looked uncomfortable as he tried to think up what to say next.

  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid there’s not much I remember at all.”

  Arlie looked down in disappointment, pressing his tiny fingers in to the detailed crevasses of the wand. “They stole your memories,” he began wiping his nose with the back of his arm, then jumped on to the bed, “- Arlie is Robin's friend,” he began again, with his legs dangling and hand wandering towards Robins satchel, “- Robin let me share his room.”