The Wizard And The Dragon

by Joseph Anderson

  I didn’t have the foresight to grasp that a light meant fire until the man was standing at the end of the hall. The flames danced and were not on a torch, but suspended above one of his hands stretched out in front of him. I couldn’t control my fear anymore and I screamed.

  The man clamped his hand together and the fire was extinguished, plunging us back into darkness. My eyes had already begun to adjust to the light and I was blinded for a few seconds now that it was gone. I kept staring at where I had just seen the man and started to press tightly back against the door, as if backing away from him could somehow protect me.

  There was a bright flash, a lightning bolt that must have struck near the tower that illuminated the inside through the windows. The thunder came less than a second after it and I saw the man during the flash. He was walking toward me, his eyes locked on my face as though he knew exactly where I was.

  “Who are you?” he said, not coldly but not warmly either.

  “Bryce,” I stammered out and closed my eyes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He wasn’t a troll or a zombie, and he hadn’t struck me yet, but he was still a strange man who seemed to be able to hold fire in his hand. I kept my eyes closed and kept bracing to be attacked at any moment.

  “A dragon came to our village,” I answered. “It killed everyone. I ran away. The village isn’t even there anymore.”

  A moment passed in silence and then I heard his footsteps again, moving away from me and back down the hall. I opened my eyes slowly and saw him standing in the main chamber.

  “Come inside then. Let’s have a look at you.”

  The man turned around and faced the table in the middle of the room. It looked like he placed something on it and a warm light began to emanate from on top of it. His body blocked whatever it was from my view but it was bright enough to reach into the hallway.

  I got to my feet and took my first steps slowly. When I reached the end of the hallway I took a single step into the room and watched the man’s back, expecting him to turn around and grab me when I got close enough. When he did turn around I squeezed my eyes shut and flinched.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, but once again he didn’t sound friendly.

  I opened my eyes once more and found him looking at me. He ran his eyes up and down me as if he was sizing me up, or trying to puzzle out something that was bothering him. I looked back at him and kept my mouth closed. His face showed signs of age but it was difficult to judge how old he was with his back to the light.

  “You were running from this dragon and came in here to get out of the rain?” he asked with his eyes on my own. He looked agitated by my presence.

  I nodded. The man stepped aside after seeing my answer and I looked directly at the fire on the table. It was the same fire he had been holding before but it was standing on the table, standing as if it had legs. It looked like a figure of a person, no taller than a drinking glass, made out of yellow fire and surrounded by red waving flames. It had no eyes but I could feel it looking at me.

  My breathing became elevated to the point that it was audible. I dug my fingertips into my palms and forced myself not to scream out of fear that I might anger this man who had what looked like a pet made out of fire. What looked like the head portion tilted to the side as if it was studying me.

  He turned his head to me when he heard my breathing and narrowed his eyes. He then turned to the table and an alarmed expression washed over his face. He snatched at the figure of fire and plucked something from its chest. The light was snuffed out and the fire was gone. I saw something sparkle in the man’s hand but he quickly dropped it in his pocket.

  “Sorry,” he said. “A dragon just burned down your village. My friend must look frightening to you.”

  My breathing lessened and I felt the tension ease in my shoulders. I said nothing and only looked at the man.

  “Well Bryce, I have more questions but you must be exhausted. Follow me. We can talk in the morning,” he said as he started walking toward the stairs.

  His voice sounded warmer now and I watched him with suspicion. I wasn’t sure what to think of the man and looked back at the hallway and the way out. The storm seemed to be passing but the door would still be too heavy to open before the man caught me. I had no choice but to follow him.

  I climbed the stairs behind him and followed his lead around the inside of the tower. There was no banister or railing to hold onto and the stairs were open and exposed. I felt increasingly nervous and unsteady with each step. I was thankful when we stopped at the first door we came to but my curiosity got the better of me. I peered over the edge of the stairs and down into the dark. I had never been up so high before, and we weren’t even half way up the tower.

  When I turned around the man had already opened the door and stepped inside. The room was far darker than the central chamber and I saw that it had no windows. He held a hand out in front of him and a light began to glow on each of his fingertips. It trailed out from them and swirled into the room like dust being caught in the wind.

  The lights were different colors at first: specks of green, blue, and red. In the center of the room they drew together and joined, like droplets of water merging together on a window in the rain. United, the lights glowed a pure white into the room that initially hurt my eyes. It didn’t stop me from staring at it in awe.

  “How?” I heard myself ask before I could stop myself. I wanted to slam a hand over my mouth.

  “Questions are for tomorrow,” he replied. “You must be tired after running so far.”

  My legs began to ache as if they were acknowledging what I just heard. The man gestured to the bed across the room and I walked toward it. The bed was low to the ground and had a few fur pelts instead of a blanket. I sat on it and looked around at the rest of the room. The only other furniture was a chamber pot and a table and chair in the far corner. There were no other doors. This was the only room on this floor.

  “Sleep now.”

  The man turned and began to walk away. The events of the day and running through the forest seemed ready to come crashing down on me and send me to sleep. I was about to lay down when the sphere of light blinked out and left me in total darkness. Despite trying to stay on guard I must have made some sort of noise because the man turned back to me.

  A moment passed as he considered what to do and then he walked across the room away from me. I couldn’t see him in the dark but I could hear him moving. A loud scraping noise rang throughout the room as he dragged the table and chair toward the bed. When he was finished he sat down and spoke to me.

  “You’ve seen that I can use magic. Unfortunately it’s not possible to leave a light in here with you unless I light a candle. That means a little fire. Are you okay with that instead of being left in the dark?”

  Stupidly, I nodded my answer, but he must have been able to see me somehow because a small flame sprung to life in front of me. I recoiled from it but didn’t take my eyes off it. The fire was between his index finger and thumb as if he was pinching it together. I was caught between both fear and wonder of it. I thought of the wizard in my village and how he had never been able to create fire like this man could.

  “This tower is full of magic and secrets. Some of them are dangerous,” the man explained. “Others are helpful.”

  I watched his hand holding the fire move across the table. There was a candle on it. He held his hand next to the wick and looked to be ready to transfer the fire to it when he stopped. I saw an odd smile cross his lips as if he had just remembered the punchline of an old joke. He gave a short laugh and then let the flame catch on top of the candle.

  “This candle is the helpful kind of magic. As long as it stays in the tower it will never melt or run out. The fire will stay lit as long as you don’t blow it out. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, my eyes full of the candle’s flame. I watched the flame shift into a bright blue and then settle on a warm yel
low.

  “Good,” he said. “Sleep as long as you need. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  The man rose to his feet and walked out of the room. I watched the door close before I lay back on the bed. The candle stayed alight as he promised, and I stared at it with a mix of wonder and fear as it calmly sat on top of the table. I shifted under the furs and my body heat slowly collected and warmed the bed. I fell asleep.

  My nightmares started that night. They were a regular occurrence during the next few years and I never went more than a few weeks without having one. Over time I began to recognize them and even predict how they would torment me. Even armed with that knowledge they still terrified me. I would scream myself awake and then lay in bed stunned for a few minutes.

  The nightmares were always focused on one specific thing that happened during the dragon’s attack.

  Sometimes it would be my fall from my hiding place and I would land in the ruins to find them covered in dead bodies. There were so many of them, too many to each have a home in our small village, and yet I was forced to wade through them. My feet would slip as the bodies compressed and squished together under my feet. When I fell my face would land in dead flesh with a sickening slapping sound.

  Other times I would be swimming in the polluted river. Each time I would break through the surface I would be covered in a thick film of congealed smoke and soot. I would hear my parents calling to me from their boat on the river where they were fishing. I would remember falling from the boat and I would try to swim back to them but my eyes were always covered in the sludge. No matter how hard I tried to clear my eyes, I could never see them and their voices would float away as they went down the river. The dream would end when I drowned.

  On that night, my first in the tower, I dreamed of the dragon. I was on top of the wall instead of my hiding spot. I would already be staring at the dragon’s silhouette in the middle of the sun and I was already afraid, knowing what it was. The shape of it would grow larger in the light until I was sure no one could not notice it, but the people below carried on their normal business. I shouted down at them but none of them heard me.

  The dragon continued its approach until the sun was blocked out completely. The blue sky changed into a starless night and still the people did not react. I screamed at them. I screamed every bad word that my parents ever punished me for saying and still they stayed calm. Some of them were laughing.

  When I gave up the dragon was nearly above the village and I stared helplessly at it, waiting for it to stop flying and cremate the village. That was when the nightmare became its most twisted. The dragon kept flying and growing larger. It would swell and engulf my sight, dwarfing the village and everything behind it. I couldn’t look anywhere without seeing part of the monster.

  Inexplicably, in the way dreams often are, I still saw the dragon when I turned around. My last resort would be to close my eyes and the nightmare would slowly release me. I would hear more laughing from the people below the wall and I would suddenly realize my eyes were open and that I was staring into my bedroom. That was how I woke up on my first day in the tower.

  It was a surreal experience to leave a dream in such a way but to also wake up in a room that I didn’t immediately recognize. I don’t think I had ever woken up in any other place but my family home in the morning light before that day. My new room was just as dark as it had been before I went to sleep.

  The candle was still burning on the table as the man had promised and its soft light made the room feel warm. I got out of bed and looked more closely at it. The candle was still as white and plump as it had been the night before. It looked brand new. I ran a fingertip around the top rim of it and then on the wood of the tabletop below it. There was no sign of any melted wax or residue anywhere. For some reason I found this flame comforting and smiled at it.

  My smile faded as I looked to the door of my room. There was a sliver of light in the crack below it and I remembered that I was alone with a strange man who could hold fire in his hands. That fire seemed chaotic and wild to me. I remembered his pet that seemed to be made out of that fire and I hoped that I was awake before him. I intended to sneak out before he could catch me.

  The door wasn’t locked when I gently pried it open and that surprised me. Despite that, I opened it as quietly as I could and crept out of the room. Daylight sliced into the tower through long, narrow windows along the walls. I still wasn’t comfortable on the stairs and kept my arm pressed against the wall as I made my way down.

  At the bottom I found the man sitting at the table, as if he had been waiting for me. My heart sank and I silently berated myself for not peeking over the stairs before I came down them. A moment passed during which we both looked at each other in the brighter light. I found that he was not as old as I originally judged him and I guessed that he must have been at least younger than my father. After I made that connection I almost saw my father in the stranger and had to fight back tears.

  He motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table and I took my place there. His clothes looked a little strange, and I couldn’t decide if it was their color or material that seemed odd. His hair was cut short and he looked strong to me. His arms and jaw were firm instead of flabby and rounded like most of the men I had seen in my village.

  On the table between us were an assortment of things. There was a bucket of water, a few plates, cups, and utensils. What caught my attention, however, was the pile of gemstones laid out in front of the man. It had been dark the previous night but not so much that I wouldn’t have noticed them. He must have brought them out while I was asleep.

  I had only seen one gem in my life before that moment. The village wizard had owned it and liked to tell stories about how much magic was contained within it. He had made it glow and float for us once and then clutched it protectively from me and the rest of the children when we wanted a closer look.

  This man had at least a few dozen on the table. They were a variety of colors, shades, and sizes. Some were transparent green, a pale water blue, and blood red. Some were small and smooth, while others looked too large to fit in my hand and were jagged and rough. Most of them had scratches and scuff marks on them like they had been pried out of something.

  “Bryce, you said. Your name is Bryce,” the man said suddenly.

  It was a statement rather than a question but I still nodded an answer.

  “You must be hungry,” he pointed to my belly.

  I felt a rumble from my stomach as if it was capable of hearing what was said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Sir.” I added.

  The man picked up one of the gemstones. It was one of the small ones, and was a bright red, nearly pink. He held it arms length away between the index and middle finger on his right hand. He closed his eyes and released the gemstone but it didn’t fall. It hovered in place and then began to bob through the air toward the large plate in the middle of the table.

  I saw the man close his eyes and furrow his brows together as the gem moved. It looked like he was trying very hard to remember something from long ago. He seemed to find it and when he opened his eyes he flicked his hand at the floating gem and it burst to life with a flash of light. The display was so bright that I had to lift my arms to shield my eyes from it.

  I smelled the food before I saw it. Roast beef, onions, potatoes, and carrots. I didn’t believe it until I opened my eyes and saw the food glistening on the plate. It was enough food to keep my family fed for days. My stomach lurched angrily at me that I wasn’t already eating it.

  Looking back, I should have been more suspicious of food created from magic even if it did turn out to be harmless. I hadn’t eaten in more than a day which felt like a lifetime for a growing boy. I began to eat immediately.

  “That wasn’t right,” the man said quietly to himself. I halted in place with my mouth and hands full of food, realizing that I hadn’t asked permission to eat. I expected to be punished but he didn’t even seem to notice what I was doin
g. He sat shaking his head to himself and I resumed eating.

  At some point the man joined me in the meal. He picked at the food while I shoveled it in my mouth as fast as I could, worried that it might be taken away. He filled our cups with water from the bucket and I drank deeply between mouthfuls of beef.

  I looked at the man several times throughout the meal, prepared to face some sort of comment about eating quickly with my hands or with disregard for all manners and etiquette. Each time the man simply watched me, seemingly content to let me eat and drink as much as I pleased. When I was finally finished, I sat back and was shocked at how much food still remained on the platter. The man smiled at me.

  “Feel better?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. We have some things to do today but I said we would talk. Ask your questions first. Maybe you’ll answer mine in the process.”

  My heart sank and I was once again leery of the man. Things to do meant work or chores. I still didn’t know why this man was being so nice to me. I thought of the monsters I had been afraid of the night before. Could trolls or monsters disguise themselves as people? Was he fattening me up to eat? I looked around the room and thought it was quite clean for just one man. Did he keep children locked away somewhere to do his work? My mind raced.

  “What are you?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  The man laughed. It was a good, infectious laugh, that got deeper toward the end as if there was another joke I was too young to work out.

  “Oh, what am I? A fair question. It is, really. I am a wizard. I am a man too, like you will be someday. But I am also a wizard. Magic is the only thing that makes us different.”

  I nodded as if I understood. I suspected that I didn’t really. The laugh had only eased me a little.