by James Wymore
A grin crossed his lips. This wouldn't even be hard. He saw all those good wishes as tinder beneath the pot. Then where the sun hit streamed in through the window he just focused it like a psychic magnifying glass. The tiny magical spark took to the invisible tinder like it had been soaked in alcohol.
All that remained was to concentrate. The sun had done its part. Now Richard held the positive attention fuel in place and let the fire work.
Nobody else could see this, of course. All they saw were tiny bubbles rising from the bottom of the kettle and small waves of misty steam lifting from the surface.
Suddenly, the sound of a single cry broke the air. Despite being muffled by walls of stone, the noise was unmistakable. Richard opened his eyes to see a hot vat of boiling water surrounded by the smiling faces of half a dozen friends and family.
Three minutes later, the bar was lifted from the door and the Queen stepped out. She couldn't suppress a huge smile.
"Well?" Richard demanded.
She didn't let his returning anxiety sway her. She also did not speak aloud the question on her face when she saw a huge cauldron of boiling water next to the door. After a pause she looked at Richard and quietly said, "Come in."
His father and friends clapped him on the back as Richard walked into the dimly lit room.
Jewel, exhausted, face still wet from washing, held a pink baby with a few dark hairs rising from its head. Her smile beamed brighter than the noon sun.
Richard felt his heart swell, and tears began to fall. With short breaths, he sat down next to her on the bed. Jewel handed him his son. Richard lifted the slight and precious life to his chest, staring into the squinting eyes. Though he thought he couldn't love Jewel more, this child made him realize he did. He loved them both more than he'd ever imagined possible.
Here, in this room, Richard felt joy and peace. He kissed Jewel, then the baby. Then he kissed them both again. He said, "We should call him Mason Elwood."
Jewel rolled her eyes. "Not this again. I told you already, he will be Richard the thirteenth. The queen's already had the official records drawn up."
"How are you feeling?"
"Never better," she said, trying to disguise the weakness in her voice. "He'll be needing to eat soon."
Richard handed his new son back. As if on cue, the midwives came back in. "How's his magic looking?"
"The same," Jewel said. "The green has turned to a greenish yellow and his heart is still surrounded by dark red."
"What does it mean?"
"I don't know. None of your fancy wizard teachers knows, either."
"Good," Richard said. "Then we'll find out together." He kissed her one more time. "I have to go make an official announcement. But I'll be back in a few minutes."
Jewel nodded.
Richard walked slowly back to the door, still unable to stop the racing of his happy heart or the trickle of tears on his cheeks. He paused, turning to watch the three midwives fussing with Jewel and the new baby. His emotions swelled again. He didn't want to leave this perfect moment.
Before Winigh, before everything that had happened, he wouldn't have left. He would have let his parents deal with it all. Now, he knew better. He needed these people, and they needed him.
Rubbing his cheeks and taking a deep breath, he went out the door and greeted his parents, friends, and advisors. Then they all turned and went out onto the stone balcony.
Arrayed in the courtyard below, thousands of Selene citizens cheered. The king and queen waved and smiled graciously. Richard copied them. He didn't feel comfortable, but he knew among those people were the people of Winigh and soldiers he had fought with in earlier battles. They all deserved to share in his joy.
When the cheering subsided, the king looked at his son. "Do you want me to make the announcement?" His face showed love enough to take up the job, should his son eschew it as he'd done in the past.
"No," Richard said, "I will not continue to burden you with my duties." His mother beamed a smile at him.
Leaning on the stone railing, as if he could close some of the distance with the throng two stories below, Richard spoke as loud as he could. "Friends, fellow soldiers, and citizens of Sel, I thank you all for your help. Without many of you here, I would not be alive to share in this joyous occasion. Today, my wife gave birth to a baby boy."
The crowd resumed cheering. Confetti began to fly. The king and queen began waving again. Richard felt his heart warming. Reaching out his hand, he used his magic again. This time he caught the confetti on fire, sending each piece streaking up and away like fireworks.
Acknowledgements
I can't express enough gratitude to my family and friends for their help and support.
Special thanks to my daughter and Jason King, who gave me valuable suggestions along the road to the final draft.
Also, appreciation goes to Andrew Buckley, my mentor and friend in the publishing world.
Although all inspiration comes from divinity, for this book especially, I must acknowledge the source of all good and the plan of happiness.
About The Author
Tall tales and imagination filled James Wymore's formative years as he moved around the American West. Constantly in pursuit of a gateway to another world, he failed to find a literal door to another reality. However, he learned to travel everywhere fantastic through writing.
As an adult, James voyaged to other continents, where new philosophies and cultures fed his desire to see life from different perspectives. He then immersed himself in studying nature, in the hopes of finding a loophole. Along the way, he continued creating stories about alternate worlds like the ones hiding just out of sight.
James finally settled in the Rocky Mountains with his pet wolf, Kilgore, and started publishing his work. With three books and six short stories in print after just one year, he celebrates the best supernatural portal he's found so far—the mind.
Search with him at http://jameswymore.wordpress.com