Wandmaster

by Valerie Kramboviti

  "Sorry John, No can do. There are reasons. Now, I must be going, that's my doorbell ringing."

  "Oh, ok then, well, thanks anyway," said John. "I'll call you again."

  "Yes, do that boy, and look after yourself. It was good to hear from you."

  "Nice talking to you too uncle," John replied. "Bye now."

  "Bye John, and............. let things be," said Uncle Jerome and hung up.

  Thoughtfully, John also hung up and walked into the living room. Uncle Jerome obviously knew something, that was clear, and whatever it was he wasn't keen to divulge it. What harm it could do, John couldn't imagine; after all, his parents were dead, William himself was dead, or at least so his letter implied. "At the time of my passing" was what the letter actually said. That meant he was dying, didn't it? Of course, John might be the only one in the family aware of that fact, which was actually highly probable. William must have caused some family trouble at some time and no-body wanted him back to cause more. He thought about calling his Uncle again to explain that William was dead, but knew he would not be able to do that without revealing how he knew, and he wasn't prepared to tell anyone about the crystals at the moment. He looked again at the photograph and asked out loud,

  "Is that you, William Stone, mystery man and black sheep of the family?"

  The eyes stared back at him. He set the photograph to lean against the chest of crystals and sat for a long time, deep in thought. There was something so familiar in the stare trapped in the picture, as though it belonged to someone he knew but couldn't remember. Maybe he had stared at the photograph for too long and considered it so deeply that it had established itself in his mind like a memory from the past. He was sure he had never met William; and even though it was obvious from the photograph that he didn't look anything like his father or other uncles, perhaps there was a family resemblance that the eye couldn't pin down, but blood could.

  Chapter 2

  The Journey Begins

  John lost count of the number of times he had read William's letter. Its quaint style and air of mystery, which hinted at a journey of discovery for John himself, had caused him discomfort in the beginning, but now when he read the letter, he tried to find more in the words, a clue as to where the journey might lead him; where it might begin. He noticed that these days he had a heightened awareness of atmosphere, a deeper appreciation of his surroundings, of mood, of the world around him, a world which he had never found remarkable before. Was this the journey? Was he waking up to his environment and learning to see himself as a part of it rather than as an island in an indifferent sea? That was positive, he thought; if it was true. He was more at ease at work, in daily communications with his colleagues, in general more cheerful. It could be that his interest in the crystals absorbed him to the point that he didn't have time to analyse his failings, as he saw them, and left him free to just be. Yes, thought John, that was positive, and he smiled as he once again closed the lid of the chest and turned over on his side to sleep. In his dreams he floated through a landscape of suffused light, like the world in eclipse, and he knew he was supposed to be there but didn't know why. He looked around him trying to find someone to ask, but the land was empty of people and desolate, so he wandered on and on till he woke to find himself troubled and unrested in his bed and with a feeling of unfulfilled purpose in his heart.

  It was Saturday. The weekly shopping was done and John was free. Usually, he would have attended to some small job in the house or sat down to watch the sport programmes on tv and relaxed, but today he had been for a walk to the park, fed the ducks, watched the squirrels and admired the lush green slopes as he breathed in outdoor air. It had a different quality to the air-conditioned stuff he inhaled at the office or the somewhat stale air of his flat, which was closed up all day when he was at work. He felt good, hungry and refreshed as he unlocked his front door and walked into his hall. He went into the kitchen and prepared a large green salad, cut a piece of cheese and a couple of slices of brown bread and sat down to eat with a large glass of fresh juice to accompany it all. A breeze blew through the open windows and he ate with appetite. Yes, his diet was changing too, and as a result his body felt lighter, more nourished and stronger. His trousers were a little loose these days, but that was good and he was pleased by the changes in his appearance. It wasn't that he had intentionally gone on a health drive, but his body's needs had changed or maybe he was hearing the voice of his body for the first time and responding to needs which had always been there. Whatever the reason, he felt good, increasingly good.

  After lunch, John sat in his favourite chair, not in front of the tv, but placed near the large window which overlooked the park opposite. The sun was shining and the curtains moved in a light breeze, which lifted his hair and cooled his face. As usual, the box of crystals sat at his side on a small round table, and John opened it and considered them one at a time. Was there any particular order to their positioning? He had not moved them around, but had he wanted to it would have been difficult, as each indentation seemed to have been individually worked to take the dimensions of its occupant. There were seven of them plus the long thin wand, which was so delicate he avoided handling it for fear of snapping it in two. Working from the right, the first crystal was a dark smoky brown colour, clear, transparent and with internal flaws which gave it the appearance of depth. He picked it up to see it in greater detail. There were strands moving up through the centre of the crystal, some of which branched and moved outwards towards the faces, of which there were six. As the light caught the different facets, individual features came into prominence, like flat platelets deep within the crystal's heart set at varying angles and reflecting the light differently. He was turning it round very slowly, studying it, and as he stared into the centre, he caught just a glimmer of red, flickering like flames, ruby-coloured flames deep within the crystal and he turned it a little to the left or right watching the red colour intensifying and fading like fire.

  The crystal had warmed in his hand and the by-now familiar "I am," led John to open his awareness, stretching to reach and connect with the crystal. He felt a pulsation throughout his whole body, flooding through him in a wave. He tried to draw back, found he had his eyes closed now and was unable to open them, but still he saw the crystal before him, the orange-red flames drawing closer as he felt himself being sucked inwards. His ears rang to a resonant chord as he drew closer still and his stomach felt nauseous in his struggle to maintain control, but the attraction was stronger than he was and he lost the battle, feeling himself being drawn away from his view of the park and deeper inward.

  The magnetic pull stopped and he found he was standing at one of the faces of the crystal, magnified now to twice his own height and his hands were flat on the dark glassy wall before him. Inside, he could see the red of the flames, but also other undefined movement. He pressed his nose up to the face of the crystal and stood still, trying to distinguish what was causing the movement he could see, but at the same time to gather his wits about him and steady himself. He wanted to pull back and to detach himself from the attraction that was drawing him in further and further. He saw his reflection behind the transparent wall. Two hands touching his two hands, two eyes staring into his. He blinked. The other eyes stared calmly back. In a shock of realization, he knew that the eyes looking back were not his own. Fear took hold of him but there was no help now, the will of the crystal had him completely and he slowly passed through its flat surface and into a shadowy landscape, shimmering darkly and flecked with red, the wall of the crystal now firmly behind him.

  Alert and alarmed, he stood perfectly still. He pressed himself back onto the inner face of the wall now behind him hoping it would give way and yield to his desire to pass back through it, but it felt hard and glassy and did not relent. Scarcely daring to breathe, he scanned the area around him and felt he had somehow stepped back into the shady dream world he had been walking of late when he slept. He was alone; perhaps the face he had seen had be
en a reflection after all and not another person though he was so confused at this point that he didn't know what to think. He desperately hoped he was dreaming and that he would soon wake as he felt trapped and panic was beginning to take hold. He was in a clearing and in the centre of it was a ring of round boulders of roughly even size and shape, in the middle of which were flames of golden red, flickering upwards but making no smoke or smell of burning, and in the tongues of fire which reached upwards, John could detect a second movement, independent of the moving flames, as though there was a human shape within them, standing and looking out. The person was tall and thin and was perfectly at ease in the flames, not burning, but contained within their glow. The features of the man in the fire were not easy to discern but it seemed to John that the eyes were studying him. He stared back and the man raised one hand in salute and then, as if a candle had been blown out, the flames and the man in them were suddenly erased from his view.

  John was by now so stunned that he didn't know how to react, and finding the unbelievable to be his only reality for the present, tried to think and take stock of his environment. There was a softly mulled light all around, and air whooshed past him catching leaves in its passage. His eyes adjusted to his new environment and slowly he began to make out the details of his surroundings. A shadowy world of tawny colours and subtle greens surrounded him. The rush of panic he had first felt was now subsiding, to be replaced by a colder fear as the situation he was in showed no signs of proving to be a dream, though the quality of the light around him again reminded him ominously of the dream world he had been pacing recently searching for...... he didn't know what. He was not inclined to leave the wall of the crystal, which felt solid against his back, so he allowed himself to drop to the floor and sit propped up against it. If he just sat there and wished to go back, maybe he would put the process into reverse and find he was home again in his chair asleep in the sun. If this was a dream though, it was a strange one because he felt that he was wide-awake, and he looked down at himself to confirm that his body was intact and saw with a start that his clothing had changed. His head jerked backwards in surprise and hit the flat surface behind him with a thunk, causing sharp pain, but it didn't wake him up. He was wearing a black leather jerkin and light trousers, soft leather shoes on his feet and at his waist was a belt, while across his chest was a kind of halter with different compartments and pockets stitched on to it. On examination, he found the pockets contained articles a hunter might use, a sling and a few smooth stones, a knife, some twine and fine string, and in a long thin section the crystal wand from his chest back home. He drew it out carefully, afraid to break its fragility, but saw that it too had changed. It was darker, stronger, almost metallic in its appearance, and he ran his finger along its smoothness. The pain as it drew dark red blood was real and he swore, looking around for something to wrap around his finger but finding nothing suitable, he sucked at the cut, which fortunately wasn't too long or deep; he had withdrawn his hand at the first sensation of pain, but nonetheless it was bleeding.

  "That was foolish," said a voice and John jumped in alarm to see a man of about his own age and build and similarly attired standing just in front of him with his arms folded and a hint of a grin on his face. John was on his feet in an instant, his finger still in his mouth and his eyes wide, but too astonished to reply. He looked around him to see if there were any other people about to spring out of nowhere, and also to see where his new companion had emerged from, realizing that he could have been concealed behind any of the nearby trees and bushes, observing John since his arrival. It occurred to him that he might have been expected, there being no other explanation for the presence of the man in this lonely spot. That thought chilled him and he recalled the figure in the flames watching him, adding fuel to the suspicion that he was not there accidentally, but that he had been brought. Somewhat abruptly John spoke. His voice emerged rather loudly, forced through a throat constricted by fear, and he demanded,

  "Who are you?" but the stranger ignored the question.

  "Let me see," said the other man and held out his hand.

  "It's all right, it's nothing," said John not allowing the other man to touch him.

  "A cut with the wand is never ‘nothing'. It won't stop bleeding till you make it," he said calmly.

  John gingerly held out his hand and the man put his underneath, palm upwards.

  "Use the wand to heal it," he said. "Touch the wound with the tip and tell it to heal."

  John was suspicious and disbelieving; he still wasn't sure if what was happening was real but the bleeding was continuing and red drops were falling to the leafy floor. He pointed the wand at the wound and said "Heal," in a shaky voice and saw that the tip of the wand glowed blue for an instant and then shot a sliver of that blue light into the wound. It stopped bleeding and the skin closed as he watched it. The other man removed his hand and surveyed John thoughtfully. There was a silence as the two men studied each other with curiosity.

  John eventually spoke again, but his questions tumbled out one on top of the other.

  "Where is this place, how did I get here.......... and who are you?"

  "Gilladen is my name and I think you know where you are. You also know how you got here."

  John thought about the answer. Yes, he did know where he was and how he had got there.

  "Inside the crystal!" he said, "One minute I was at home and the next I was here. Am I dreaming?" he asked, looking carefully for the first time at his companion, who had a friendly, rather pale face.

  "Have you ever had a dream as real as this?" asked Gilladen.

  "No, not like this. I can't wake up from this one."

  "Hmmm. Nor will you."

  "What!" gasped John, alarmed "Do you mean I'm stuck here?"

  "For the present, yes. But come on, we have to leave this place."

  "Leave?" bellowed John, "I'm not going anywhere except home! I want to get back through this damned wall!" he insisted, and turned about face, hammering with his fists, slapping with his palms and shouting, "There must be a way out!" Again he pressed his nose up to the crystal face, this time from the inside, seeing nothing but dim shapes. Gilladen turned on his heels and headed off, calling after him, "We can't stay here, it's dangerous. Come on!" John, after protesting and trying once more to get back through the wall without success, called out to the back of the man now walking away,

  "Hey, come back! Tell me how to get out of here!" But there was no reply and the man was increasing the distance between them. Not knowing what else to do, John tore himself reluctantly from the wall and followed. When he drew level, he opened his mouth to speak.

  "Not now, there will be plenty of time later for questions," said Gilladen before John could utter a word. They picked up their pace and the reluctant adventurer looked around him as they trotted along, assessing and fretting about his predicament. They were in a shadowy forest whose trees were tall with elegant trunks and full leafy tops. The ruby glow had disappeared along with the flames in the clearing and here the sunlight, which filtered through was subdued, as was John himself. The sombre mood of the environment suited his own.

  This was no small world. The land of the crystal was expansive and as they emerged from the trees, rocky hills came into view to the west, while a smooth plain opened out to the east. Emerging from the forest, John felt he was leaving behind him his last chance of return and he looked longingly back, trying to memorize the trees, but he knew it was useless. He was not going to be able to get out of this place alone. He needed the aid of his guide, and he wasn't going to get that, at least for the moment, so he had no choice but to co-operate in the hope that he would be able to undo the process which had pulled him into this strange place. They headed towards the hills seeing no other sign of life, and the only sound was the plaintive call of an unfamiliar bird from high up in the treetops now fading away behind them.

  At the foot of the hills was a path leading upwards. They turned their footsteps tow
ards it and began to climb, jumping brooks from time to time, which coursed downwards. The pace Gilladen set was steady and fast and John found himself hard-pressed to keep up, but made a determined effort and managed to stay on the heels of his guide. He thought that if this was a dream, then he shouldn't be feeling tired and his feet should not be hurting. In fact, he was now hoping they would soon reach their destination, wherever that was, so he could rest; he didn't know how much longer he could keep going without stopping to recover. At a point some half way up the hill, a wall of flat rock barred their way and John halted, looking at Gilladen for guidance. His companion, who neither halted nor spoke, was making straight for the rock face, so John followed, and when they got up closer, he saw that the rock face was in fact a cleft; one rock face over another further behind it. From a distance, the light and shade made it appear to be one smooth surface, but now he could see that Gilladen was still following a path of sorts, which continued right to the end of the rock face, and then turned behind it so that momentarily his guide disappeared. John hurried to catch up and turned behind the first rock face to find the path continuing deeper into the cleft, high cliffs now on either side of them.

  They continued in zig-zags through a rock maze until John was hot and tired and absolutely sure he could not find his way back again alone, having to accept that he was trapped at the whim of the crystal that brought him into its world and the guide who led him deeper. He was musing uncomfortably on this fact when they eventually cleared the last rocks and John found himself staring across a broad plateau, encircled completely by rock walls. He panned the entire plain from his position up on one of its steep sides, and marveled at how tiny everything below him looked. It put him in mind of model villages and toy train landscapes which had fascinated him as a small boy.