The Wizard And The Dragon

by Joseph Anderson

  Toward the end I even considered that he was himself an embodiment of the tower, that his name was more than a passing title. The same magic that powered the books and candles, if so advanced, might sustain the image of a man in the way I could morph energy into meat and vegetables. I thought of the chicken question I had asked Tower so long ago and grasped at the possibility. The tower saw a boy and gave him the means to survive, just enough, and then receded back into the walls.

  In the end, all of my theories were wrong. He was no great, immortal man from a long lost age. He wasn’t made flesh from the tower’s magic, although it may have sustained him at times. The answers came suddenly one morning, when I woke up and the windowed room was open.

  The light from under the door woke me up. I liked sleeping in the dark, sealed off in the bedroom adjacent from the study. The candle light was too dim to reach through the crack under the door and that’s what made me spring out of bed. I thought the light was a fire and ripped the door open while still barely awake.

  I saw it immediately, even through the visual overload of the bright lights assaulting my eyes. The door at the other end of the study was open. The chests I had stacked were strewn across the floor, as if the door had been violently pushed open. Somehow the door was still intact and hinged in its frame.

  The window was a dazzling blaze of blue light. The stones in the wall shined along with it, as if the light snaked its way between all of them, stretching out to light up the entire perimeter of the room. The bedroom behind me stayed dark. It was only the study that was caught in the window’s magic.

  Candle climbed up my leg as I walked toward the window. I could feel the magic pulsating from it with only the smallest effort of focusing toward it. The gem in the corner, now as high as my hip, was only a fraction of the energy that was bombarding through the walls.

  I entered the room not knowing what to expect. The door stayed open behind me. The chilling writing was still on the walls, the letters still looked like they had been etched in while in agony. My head felt light, as though it could float from neck at any moment, caught in the whirlwind of magic in the room.

  There was something on the window. The thin frame was emitting the light, but the glass—if it truly was glass—was still as clear as ever. In the center of it was a small symbol. It was a simple shape, four lines curving upwards from the same point, in the same blue color as the light in the room.

  I was compelled to touch it. Maybe it was the possibility of solving a mystery. Maybe I thought it would bring Tower back. Maybe it was that I missed the excitement of exploring the unknown of the underground. I pressed my hand against the symbol and felt like I had been struck with my own lightning.

  The room swirled in and out of my comprehension. A mess of blue light and gray stone and me in the middle of it, my hand shocked stuck to the glass of the window. The vibrations moving up my arm caused my whole body to shake and then, as abruptly as the window had latched onto me, it released me and I fell into a heap on the floor.

  The lights were gone and the window felt empty. All of the power was gone and the room was cold. Candle was on my shoulder and was still as I got to my feet. From outside the tower I heard a crackle of thunder.

  I turned and saw the study was also in darkness. Out of habit I raised my hand to Candle and used his light to guide my way. The candles had all gone out but the room seemed to be as I had left it. The bedroom door was somehow closed and I frowned at that.

  Another boom of thunder rattled through the tower walls and I walked to the study’s door. I opened it and found no light coming in from the windows along the stairs. It had been morning a few moments ago and no storm, no matter how severe, could have blocked out all of the light. Had I been knocked unconscious? How long for?

  I stepped out onto the stairs and looked to the water channel in the wall. It was dried out and filthy and I tensed up. Had I lost more time? Was it several weeks now? A third thunderbolt, directly above the tower, exploded in the sky and light briefly shimmered through the windows. I turned to go up to the roof when another sound shot through the tower, closer this time, from below. Something had just opened the front door.

  I whipped around and grabbed for a gem in my pocket. No wind had been strong enough to open the door in all the years I had been in the tower. Had I been unconscious so long that it had degraded? I shook my head at the ridiculous thought and I tried to ready myself. Something had invaded my home and I needed to fight.

  I descended slowly and strained my ears to hear any movement. Whatever it was it had not made it into the main chamber of the tower yet. As I neared the bottom of the stairs I could hear it struggling against the door as if it was trying to pull it open again.

  I stepped into the hallway ready to fling all manner of spells at whatever was waiting for me. Instead my hand clamped around Candle protectively, snatching away his light and shielding me in the darkness from what I saw.

  My body froze as another bolt of lightning came down near the tower, illuminating us in a brief, white flash. Our eyes locked and I stared at him more intently than I ever had another person in my entire life. I wanted to step forward, carefully, but I was rooted in place. My skin was alive with goosebumps, causing my back and arms to tingle.

  “What is your name?” I asked, although I already knew. I had to be sure.

  “Bryce,” the boy croaked out.

  I set my jaw firmly in place, and took a bracing breath, as I stared down at myself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My mind felt like it had been struck. Questions came hurtling at me, howling for my attention, while I knew I had to stay calm.

  I remember how afraid I had been of the man—me—in the tower on my first night and how calm he—me—had been. I knew I had to recreate that presence. And even that seemingly easy affirmation split apart into hundreds of questions without answers. Did I really have to recreate it? How careful did I have to be? Could I get this wrong and rewrite my entire life?

  The boy—me—looked up at me with trepidation. His mouth was set tightly. He was afraid and I had been silent for too long. I couldn’t remember if Tower—me—had done that.

  “Why are you here?” I asked and wondered if those were the exact words I had heard all those years ago.

  The boy swallowed before he answered. I couldn’t remember if I did that.

  “A dragon came to our village. Killed everyone. I ran away. I don’t think the village is there anymore.”

  I turned from him and walked to the table in the center of the room. I ignited Candle on top of it out of habit and looked at him. My movements were steady but my thoughts were still racing. I needed time to think. I needed to get the boy asleep and out of sight.

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

  When I heard his footsteps stop behind me, I turned and saw him flinch as though he expected to be struck.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice level.

  I scanned my younger self, boggling at how small I had once been. It was a surreal experience, seeing myself as a child. I had been so scrawny and weak. It was surprising that I survived the attack at all, never mind the cold, drenched run through the woods. I remembered being asked something about that.

  “You ran here in the rain? The dragon was chasing you?”

  The boy nodded and I stepped aside, looking up into the dark interior of the tower. I felt confident that I was recreating that first night so far. I heard the boy take a sharp breath and I turned to face him. His eyes were full of Candle’s light, as if the flames were dancing in his pupils. I saw the reflection of Candle tilting his head, considering the boy.

  Abruptly I remembered and I swiped Candle’s core from within the flames. I deposited it quickly into my pocket and then faced myself. I could still make him out in the darkness.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “A dragon just burned down your village. My friend must have terrified you.”

&n
bsp; He said nothing to me. His breathing slowed and he stared up at me. His eyes were making me uncomfortable, like they were gnawing at me. I knew that look. I had looked that look. I needed to get him out of the way, if only for a few hours.

  “Well Bryce, I have more things to ask you but you must be exhausted. You should rest. We can talk in the morning,” I said as I started walking toward the stairs.

  I didn’t look back to see if he was following me. I opened the door on the first floor and even the simplest passing thought—this was once my old room and now it’s his, or is mine again, or his again—was enough to threaten my grasp on the situation. I pushed it all aside.

  Focusing my magic was a welcome distraction. I transformed part of my own energy into light slowly, relishing the few moments of concentration that brought me peace from my other thoughts. The orb merged in the middle of the room and let out a pale blue light.

  “How?” I heard the boy ask from behind me and, just like that, my moment of peace was over.

  “Tomorrow,” I replied. “You must be tired after running so far.”

  I remembered that part of the night distinctly. I remember how the ache in my legs deepened at the sight of the bed. I watched the boy sit on it and then I turned to leave. Something nagged at my memory, as if I was forgetting something. I called back the sphere of light and it was then, when I heard the boy let out a small squeak at the darkness, that I remembered.

  I dragged the table close to the bed and sat on the chair next to it. I knew I needed to leave him with a light but there was still something I was missing.

  My fingers were ready to hold the flame when I stopped myself. I needed to be careful from now that I didn’t scare the boy. I had to remember what fire meant to me back then.

  “You’ve seen that I can use magic, Bryce. Unfortunately I can’t leave a light in here right now unless I light a candle. That means a little fire. Are you okay with that instead of being in the dark?”

  The boy nodded and I barely made out the movement in the shadows of the room. I kept the flame as small as possible as it sparked to life between my fingers. I stretched my hand out toward the candle and that’s when I realized. The epiphany crashed down on me and I froze.

  In spite of the situation, a smile spread over my face. I stifled a laugh as I looked at the candle. All those years worrying that I had used the wrong type of fire, that I had made my familiar wrong, when the candle flame had come from me after all.

  I let the flame catch on top of the candle. It was settling in a way, knowing that this one flame would stay alight for a year until it became this boy’s familiar. He needed to know to never put out the flame.

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

  “Yes,” the boy whispered.

  “Sleep well now. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  I had always thought Tower had gone to his room and slept like I did at the end of the night. When I closed the door behind me I knew that I had a lot of work to do and not enough hours to do it in. I had to prepare food and water for us both, which meant collecting some gems. I needed to set up barriers in the tunnels. Most importantly, I needed to think and remember everything that happened to me on my first few days in the tower.

  The mines came first, and it was a shock to find the door to the cellar still intact. It was a small thing but after fifteen years of that doorway being open it was strange to have something to open and close behind me.

  The cellar itself felt decrepit and neglected. There was a thick layer of dust on everything. The giant spider’s cell looked naked without its thick masses of silk, but the seemingly endless little cobwebs around the rest of the room tried to make up for it.

  I ignited Candle and had him guard the tunnel entrance while I tidied the room. The well needed the most attention, and I cleaned the buckets around it thoroughly. Whatever magic infused in the tower may have maintained a lot of these things, but that didn’t mean they were kept clean enough to use.

  The inside of the tool cabinets weren’t as bad as the rest of the room. The spiders had left their mark inside but they had been spared the dust. I took out one of the small pouches and a single pickaxe and marched into the mines.

  At the fork I erected a barrier to protect the cellar with one of the few gems I had in my pocket. I chipped away at the wall right afterwards, only needing a handful or two of stones. I expended some magic rupturing the chunks of rock. It was a wasteful, hasty process but time was more valuable to me than conserving magic.

  I walked down the left tunnel to make sure it was clear. It was strange to see it sealed up again, not yet open to the spider’s nest and not yet sealed away by a blast that Tower—that I—created. That would be weeks from now, the thought bashed at me and I shoved it aside. The mines were the worst place to potentially lose my mind.

  The right tunnel took longer to check through. I decided against going down the slope that led to the chamber of statues and pillars. I needed to get back up into the tower and prepare for morning. I placed a barrier over it just to be safe and then walked down the longer tunnel toward the opening of the underground.

  I ran into two farren on the way. Candle hissed and spat at them from my shoulder as if we had returned to our old times exploring the underground. I dispatched them easily with two spells and then dragged them with me into the underground. I threw them each out into the opening without burning or decapitating them. If something came along and ate them or if they regenerated and went on their way, either was fine with me.

  Two barriers were put up. I had only found two clear gems in my brief extraction and resorted to using colored ones instead. I manipulated the darkest colors I could find to seal off the tunnel. When I arrived back at the fork I used one of the clear gems there, and the second one back at the cellar. It wasn’t my best work but it would do until I had to bring the boy down into the mines.

  Too many warnings swam through my mind as I climbed the stairs out of the cellar. There was too much to think about and all of it seemed equally important. There was something I was forgetting about Candle. Something I was forgetting about the mines. Something I needed to remember about myself. I couldn’t separate it out and, thus, all of it went unresolved.

  I went up into the study and found that it looked the same as yesterday. Did yesterday mean the same thing at that moment, or was it tied to the date and time instead? I closed my eyes tightly and slumped at my writing desk in frustration. I looked down at the book that I had been working on as if it held an answer.

  In a way, it did. I felt stupid as I jumped out of my chair and rushed down the bookcases. I plucked out books at random and flipped through pages that I remembered writing on. They were still there. The pages were still filled in. Whole books that I had constructed were still on the shelves. I didn’t understand.

  The rest of the tower had reverted back to how it once had been, but this room had not. I looked at the windowed room and found the door closed. The massive gem in the corner beside it, the one I had diligently formed over the years, was still there. It was the same size as it had been yesterday.

  I halted in the middle of the room. I closed my eyes and tried to think of when I had been transported back. The windowed room had been filled with light. It was piercing out from between the stones in the walls, but it had spread to this room as well. Had they both been brought back with me?

  The risk of it wasn’t even considered. I swung open the door and stepped into the small room. The window looked inert now and I looked at my faint reflection in the glass. I had often thought I looked familiar as I had grown older but I thought I was seeing my father in myself. It had been so long I could barely recall what he or Tower looked like. Looking at myself now I wondered which one I was recognizing more in my face.

  I looked around the room and held Candle up to light the walls. They were stil
l the same. Unchanged, with the same words and lettering scored into them. I read them once again.

  “DO NOT TRUST THE BOY.”

  “i’m so hungry.”

  “I died but I’m still here.”

  “Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.”

  There were others. Others that I had read the last time I had been in here. I knew, somehow, that I had written those words. I could feel the possibility within me even then. The strain of it on my mind could crack open and break me. Some of these words were from past versions of me, driven insane by what I witnessed today, or by what I might witness soon.

  I didn’t want to consider what each of the scrawled words might mean or what horrors might await me. My Tower had kept his sanity and so could I.

  I closed the door and kept walking across the study. I needed to see what else hadn’t changed.

  The bedroom felt cold and wrong. I had grown comfortable in the room over the years but in that moment it was like I was an invader, poking around in someone else’s room. The drawers were full of clothes once again, even another pair of what I was currently wearing. The bed was made but felt stiff. There was dust on everything, although to a lesser extent than the cellar.

  In one of the drawers I found two objects I had never seen before. They were a harness and a small dagger. They looked delicate and ornamental, but I recognized them immediately as sollite. They were made of the same material that housed Candle, a substance capable of storing vast amounts of magical power, far more than a gemstone.

  I looked at them and wondered why I had never seen them before. The harness looked like it would fit me and the dagger felt light in my hand. I ran my focus over both of them and found them devoid of any magic. How had they gotten there?

  The answer came suddenly but brought another revelation with it. I put the sollite objects back in the drawer and fell back onto the bed. Tower must have taken them out and had them when he vanished, I surmised.