Aurelius and I

by Benjamin James Barnard

  “But couldn’t that power be there because I’m a Protector?”

  The genie just laughed.

  “My dear boy, Protectors are given their powers so that they might exert influence over the human community in order to protect the secret of magic. They are a token gift aimed at breeding commonality with those they are supposed to protect. They are no match for the powers of true alundri. And you, Charlie, are quite clearly a true alundri.”

  “But why would Aurelius lie?” Even as the words left my mouth I knew that they were foolish. Aurelius was a liar and liars lied. No-one really knew why. They just did.

  “Who knows?” replied the supposedly all-knowing Raymondo. “Perhaps he was trying to convince you he was on the good side. Perhaps he wanted to create a sense of duty within you so that you would be committed to his own terrible cause. Perhaps it is all some other part of the dastardly plan about which we know so little.”

  “But, how do I know you’re not the one who’s lying?”

  “My dear boy, you truly are naïve as to the ways of the alundri are you not? Genies are not physically able to knowingly tell a lie, I thought everybody knew that?”

  I looked to my two companions who both nodded their agreement in a manner that suggested this bizarre genetic defect was in some way common knowledge among the alundri. And if that was the case, it would seem hard to believe that Aurelius had not also known about it when he had tried to convince me that Raymondo had falsified claims of Blackheart’s presence in the forest.

  I sighed. Not only was I now certain that my supposed friend had been working against me in order to unleash his terrible plan upon the forest – but I was also no nearer to discovering what such a plan may be.

  “I just wish...”

  “NOOOOOOO!” screamed the genie, leaping up from his cushion and covering his ears. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Don’t use the W word. NEVER use the W word!”

  “Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” I said. “But wouldn’t it be easier if I did just... you-know-what to know what Blackheart’s plan was?”

  “No it would not!” Raymondo yelled. ‘Let me tell you something, young man; wishes always turn out wrong. Even the simple ones. And especially the ones that are made with personal gain in mind.”

  “But this wouldn’t be personal gain,” I insisted. “I’m just trying to help save the forest.”

  “No, you’re just trying to help yourself to save the forest, and that is guaranteed to end in disaster. And besides, we don’t need to use magic to find out Blackheart’s plan, my trusty powers of reasoning will do the trick just as well.”

  “You mean you’ve worked it out?” asked Ophelia.

  “Well don’t sound so surprised, young lady, have I not already mentioned my superior intellect?”

  We all sat waiting in quiet anticipation as Raymondo slowly retook his seat, relishing the undivided attention he was receiving, attention that he not-so-privately believed he deserved.

  “None of you, I suppose, have ever heard of The Ruins of Kenzoor?” he asked, putting great emphasis on his last words as if he were trying to create some sort promotional trailer for a movie. Three of us shook our heads in unison. “Why am I not surprised?

  “The Ruins of Kenzoor are one of the oldest, most important, surviving relics of ancient magic in the world today. It is believed that, many centuries ago, Kenzoor was a great temple and an important centre of power within the magical world, to which magical beings flocked from miles around in search of help or guidance from the elders who dwelled there. Its power was infamous for millennia until, at some point, probably around a thousand years or so ago, the temple was destroyed.

  “Stories of how this destruction came about vary greatly depending on the source; Some say it was burned to the ground by humans, afraid of any belief system but their own, as they sort to conquer new lands for their cities and their agriculture; Others claim that the Alundri themselves destroyed the temple, relocating their power base to a more remote location so that the advancing humans would not discover it; Others still say that the fire was started by members of an early predecessor to the Tundrala, in an attempted coup against the powers that be. Nobody knows for certain which, if any, of these tales is true. The only thing we do know is that the temple was destroyed.

  “Except that, that’s not quite the case. You see, whilst it is true that the temple itself was destroyed, the source of its power remained unbroken.”

  “What do you mean by ‘source of its power’?” I asked.

  “A good question, young man, and one I would have answered more quickly had you not bee so eager to interrupt my tale,” Raymondo replied in a self-important tone. “As you may or may not know, there are present in the world certain objects which are almost entirely magical in their existence, objects which often hold only the smallest amount of corporeal form, but which are imbued with such indescribable levels of magical energy that they simply radiate it – rainbows would be a good example of this. These items are what provide the world with magic. Without them, magic would die, and every single Alundri would simply be reduced to being an ordinary (if slightly odd-looking) creature of the earth.

  “The power of such items varies greatly, as does the power of magical beings depending on their proximity to such items. Some of the less powerful items are able to be moved to where they are needed, whilst other, still less powerful ones actually fade in and out of existence. The really important sources of power, however, are strictly permanent fixtures. Their own power is in tune with and dependant upon the inherent spiritual force which certain earthly locations hold. At the centre of the Temple of Kenzoor there stood such an item – an item known as The Stone of Soolarondoo.

  “Unable to move the stone, and fearing it would be destroyed or misused by either the Tundrala or the humans, the temple’s elders used their powers to disguise the stone’s location, and bound what they could of its mystic force, carving into it instructions on how to release its powers when they were most needed. This message was written in an ancient, and long-forgotten magical language of which the elders were the sole scholars so that it could not be understood by anybody except the one their prophecy described as ‘the creature of unusual power’, who, it is written, will use power of the stone to save the Earth from great conflict.”

  “But what has all this got to do with Blackheart?” Ophelia demanded.

  “Well, my impatient yet remarkably unperceptive guest, if any of you three were able to listen to somebody speak for more than forty-seven seconds without interrupting then you would all discover the relevance of our tale a little quicker, would you not?”

  Ophelia did not speak an answer, but instead stared the genie directly in the eye with a look of barely restrained hatred. She looked to me as though she may have quite literally have been biting her tongue.

  “I haven’t interrupted,” Grahndel pointed out smugly, inadvertently easing the tension.

  “You have now,” replied Raymondo.

  “Beetle bogeys!’

  “Anyway, as I was saying, the elders needed to hide the stone, and yet could not permit themselves to move it. They therefore took the only course of action available to them – they raised the landscape around it!”

  At this point the genie paused as if waiting for questions, or merely awe-struck exclamations. Having been so impatient with interruptions thus far however, his revelation was met only by silence. Something he pretended not to notice, quickly moving on with his tale.

  “The terrain around the stone was completely transformed by the powerful elders before they fled, burying the stone and what remained of the temple in a labyrinth-like network of underground caves. Caves that still stand, untouched to this day – right here in Hanselwood Forest!”

  This time the genie did get a reaction from his audience.

  “You mean to say that this ‘Stone of Sue-in-the-po
o’ is actually here, in this very forest?” I asked.

  “Stone of Soolarondoo,” he corrected, “And yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you!”

  “But why would such a powerful object be here?” asked Ophelia.

  “My dear girl, you’re looking at this whole thing the wrong way round. What you should be asking is why would you be here? Why are there such vast numbers of Alundri living together in a relatively tiny forest, when other more remote, and therefore more suitable locations remain entirely devoid of magic of any sort? The answer is the Stone of Soolarondoo.”

  “So, you’re saying that if the stone wasn’t here, none of us would have any magical powers at all?” I asked.

  “Oh you’d have them alright, you just wouldn’t be able to use them. Or at least much less effectively. Think of the stone as a giant battery. You were born with the potential to do great and wonderful things, but your powers rely on the magical energy if they are to work. Now, small amounts of this energy can be found in all sorts of places – rainbows emit it, as I said before, as do dragonflies. But in order for an Alundri to reach his or her full magical potential, they require a vast and constant source of energy. The Stone of Soolarondoo represents such a power source.”

  “And that’s why Blackheart is here!” I said, suddenly cottoning on to the relevance of the genie’s tale. “The Professor wants the tablet destroyed so that the Alundri here are forced to move to Roobatzi.”

  “That will be his hope, yes, but by no means the only advantage of his plan. Even those who refuse to sign themselves over to The Professor will represent a greatly weakened threat to his empire when they are so formidably disempowered. Without the energy of the stone, Hanselwood Forest will cease to be a safe haven for Alundri. They will be forced to live disparate, lonely existences, where their main focuses will be simply to avoid human contact and to survive. They will have neither the time, the power, nor the inclination to begin an uprising against him. But of course, this is not the true nature of The Professor’s plan, it is merely a back-up.”

  “So what is the real plan, then?” I asked.

  “I would surmise, that The Professor is hoping that he himself, is the creature of great power that the prophecy speaks of, and that he will be able to use this power to open the gateway.”

  “What’s the gateway?”

  “The Gateway, is a myth. A legend passed down among alundri solely by word of mouth. There exists no written proof of its existence, and yet it is possibly the most feared and dangerous concepts in magical history. It is said that certain, extremely powerful items, when called upon by certain, extremely powerful creatures, can be used to open gateways across time and space, enabling transportation across hundreds of millions of light years, or even across dimensions, in the blink of an eye.”

  “That doesn’t sound so dangerous to me,” Grahndel interjected.

  “Perhaps that is because you have a brain the size of a rabbit dropping in that tiny little head of yours? Just think of the damage that could be done if a single microbe of alien bacteria were to enter the earth’s ecosystem. With no immunity to infection, entire populations could be decimated within days. And, of course, The Professor does not plan to bring forth merely a single microbe, he will seek to use the gateway to transport an entire army from Roobatzi into our own world, an army who will kill and destroy at his will.”

  “We have to stop him!” exclaimed Ophelia, tears forming in her eyes.

  “And we will,” I reassured her. “The Great Raymondo is just about to tell us what Blackheart and The Professor’s plan is, and how we can stop it... aren’t you, Mr Raymondo?”

  “Er, well...” he hesitated. “I am sure I can inform you as to what their plan is likely to be...as for how to stop it, that I’m not quite so certain of I’m afraid. You see, legend has it that the stone’s creators – whoever they were – foresaw that it may one day be misused should it fall into the hands of the humans, who, with no true comprehension of this type of power, may work out away of harnessing the stone’s energy in order to destroy their enemies – not realising that in doing so they would endanger the entire planet. And so, as a safeguard against such an eventuality, the creators of the stone forged a weapon that could destroy it, the most powerful weapon in all of existence, The Sacred Scimitar of Slanoria.”

  “The what?” I asked.

  “The Sacred Scimitar of Slanoria,” he repeated. “It is the only weapon powerful enough to destroy the Stone of Soolarondo. It was forged that anyone who sought to misuse the stone’s power might be stopped.”

  “And you believe that Blackheart has the scimitar?” I asked.

  “That is my suspicion. You see, the creators realised that such a powerful weapon could not be left in the hands of just anybody, and so they declared that the scimitar would remain for always under the protection of a guardian, whose job it would be to protect both the scimitar and the forest itself.”

  “And now that guardian is Aurelius,” I said. I was beginning to understand how it was all coming together, and I didn’t like it one bit. “But, if Aurelius has been corrupted, why did he not simply use the scimitar himself? Why would he need Blackheart’s help?”

  “Because, my young friend, destroying the stone is not Aurelius’s main objective.

  “As I mentioned before, the elders who bound the stone’s power left open a way for the most powerful Alundri to open it under certain, unusual, conditions. Upon the stone is carved a spell which releases its powers to the command of he – or she – who speaks the words, but there is, of course, a catch; the prophecy states that the words will only be understood by the chosen one, and, even then, only become fathomable during the midnight hour when the full moon coincides with the summer solstice - a very rare occurrence.”

  “A very rare occurrence which just happens to be occurring tonight,” I corrected.

  “Well, I believe that is the case, yes.”

  “That must be why Aurelius was telling Blackheart that he would have to wait” I said, the full severity of the situation hitting me all at once. It would have been bad enough if nobody in Hanselwood forest had magical powers, but for one person (or, worse, one Gravlier) to hold all of them would simply be a disaster.

  “So how do we stop him?” asked Ophelia.

  “I’m afraid I see no way of doing so,’ answered the apparently not-that-great-after-all Raymondo. “Even if The Professor and his cronies have not, by some foul means, obtained the ability to harness the stone’s power, it seems certain that they hold the weapon necessary to destroy it, and with it, all hope for the future of magic in Hanselwood.”

  Chapter 27

  We exited the Great Raymondo’s lair through a second secret passage that lead to the forest floor along a route which involved mercifully less chance of imminent death than the first. As we emerged into the sunshine through its carefully disguised trapdoor I reflected upon the strange mix of emotions our encounter with the genie had left me with.

  On the one hand I felt happier – we had (albeit accidentally) succeeded in our mission to locate Raymondo, and, just as we had hoped, he had been able to provide us with information as to the nature of Blackheart’s plan. On the other hand though, we had now exhausted our only plan of attack and still had absolutely no idea of how Blackheart could be stopped.

  I stood and stared at the forest around me for a long moment, unsure even of which direction to begin travelling in, let alone of what we should do next. Fortunately the loud rumbling of my stomach provided me with the answer.

  “I’m hungry,” I declared.

  “Me too,” the others said in unison.

  “You mean to tell me,” I said, turning to Ophelia, “that for all the rubbish you packed into that tiny bag, you didn’t think to bring any food?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t think it was important, I mean sneeze dust and fart gas are pre
tty hard to come by these days, but you can find food anywhere.”

  “And can you suggest where anywhere might be?” I asked, but silence was her only response.

  “I know where we can find food,” said Grahndel, looking wistfully back at the trapdoor.

  “Food!” repeated a tiny high-pitched voice that seemed to come from the air itself.

  “Who said that?” I said, spinning in a circle. Only silence came in reply.

  “Food!” came the voice again, this time at a marginally more audible level.

  “Where did that come from?”

  “It came from you, you toad-kisser,” the dragnor answered.

  “From me?” I repeated, without the slightest clue as to what the grumpy demon could be talking about.

  “From your pocket.”

  In my eagerness to locate Raymondo and my subsequent panic as to how we were ever going to save the forest I had entirely forgotten about the miniscule creature I had named Daisy and place in the safe-haven of my shirt pocket – I am certain, dear reader, that you had not been so incompetent.

  Cautiously, I reached into my pocket praying that my energetic escapades over streams, down stairs and across falling floors had not caused any harm to the little lady, who, given that she made Ophelia appear positively enormous, can have had bones no thicker than pencil lead. As opened my palm to reveal the infinitesimal naked creature three things struck me immediately;

  She did not appear to be hurt (indeed she seemed very happy);

  She had grown immensely in size in the hour and twenty-seven

  minutes she had remained in my pocket;

  She was most definitely a He!

  “How has it grown so fast?” asked Grahndel. “That’s definitely the same one you put in their right?”