A Master of Fate
A request (or to use her word) demand by my good friend Shireheart. I did enjoy writing this and I know she enjoyed reading it. What more could a writer want?
Faria flopped down on her bed, her brown trainee's cloak flapping around her. The black-haired girl scowled. It wasn't fair; she was thirteen now and more than ready to take the next step in her training But as of yet her trainer, one Ellio de Wilyowreed, had not given her a more challenging assignment.
Faria supposed it was more difficult when your instructor in the art of magic was also your father.
Gazing up at the ceiling, Faria allowed her mind to reflect on her current situation. Like her father, she was a Master of Fate (although in her case, she was in training to be a Master of Fate). Such magicians often helped by people by setting them down the roads they were meant to take in life, via some sort of magic concoction. Ellio was particularly fond of dealing with children; only just last week, he had given a little girl a potion that would enable her to speak to dogs, thus setting her on the path to make important discoveries in the field of veterinary science. Faria grinned; said child would have a lot of fun at parties from now on.
"Faria!" Speak of the devil, her father was home! And from the sound of his voice, he was in the apothecary. Jumping up, Faria shut her eyes and pictured the room in her mind. A moment later, she was standing in the middle of the apothecary, amidst the numerous brewing potions and concoctions. Ellio was standing by the large cabinet that housed all of the supplies needed for their numerous spells and he glanced over his shoulder as his daughter approached.
"So, you've mastered teleporting, I see."
"Well, I had a good teacher." Faria's father chuckled.
"You're just like your mother. Born with a silver tongue." Faria's mother was, for lack of a better word, a Song Spirit. She flitted among the wilds of the world and sang to people, animals, and even plants, inspiring them to great things via her voice. In fact, it had been Faria's mother who had sung to an old apple tree, convincing it to drop on apple of top of Isaac Newton's head.
"I inherited your abilities though, Dad," Faria pointed out.
"So did, my dear. And last time I checked, you're thirteen."
"Yes." Faria's heart swelled. Was he finally going to let her take the next big step in her training? Would it be her and not her father that would deliver aid into the hands of an unhappy child, setting them on the course of their own special Fate?
"Well then, it seems you're ready for a new challenge."
"I am! I am!" Ellio laughed, his grey eyes as bright as his daughter's.
"Alright then. You are going to help me make a very special potion. A potion unlike any other we've made together."
"Oh, uh, okay." Faria kept smiling, although inwardly she was a little disappointed. Potion making? She's made hundreds, if not thousands of potions without the aid of her father already. True they had been minor things (cures for pimples or warts and the like), but still.
"Reach into the chest over there and pull out the object you find wrapped in red velvet." Ellio pointed to a black trunk without looking away from the supply cabinet. Faria obeyed, but upon finding out what the object was, she gave a startled gasp.
It was a skull. And not just any skull; this one glowed with an eerie red light that filled the empty eye sockets and made the teeth look like they had been coated with blood. The top of the skull had been removed and the whole thing was hollow.
"Do you know what that is, Faria?" Ellio asked, running a casual hand over the black stubble on his chin.
"It's a witch's skull," the girl breathed in awe. If a witch's skull was being used in a potion, then this was no mere spell; this was real heavy-duty magic. Faria carefully carried the glowing object over to her father's worktable, where the rest of the supplies were laid out. Faria wrinkled her nose at the smell; most of the ingredients were animal parts.
"What's the potion for, Dad?" Ellio looked up from laying out crocodile tongues.
"I will tell you when the potion is completed, Faria, but it will take a month for it to be ready."
"A month?"
"Roughly. Now, your job will be to make sure the potion is boiling day and night for twenty straight days. After that, I'll give you your next task. I would recommend that you sleep in the apothecary, as well as study your lessons in here as well."
"Okay, I'll do that." Keep a potion bubbling? How hard could that be?
*****************************************************************************************************************************************************
I think the next time I have a though, I'll bash my head open. Faria rubbed her eyes as she checked the flames set underneath the witch skull cauldron for what felt like millionth time. True, the potion had never once stopped boiling, but Faria was so determined to do a good job that she was constantly checking and re-checking the fire. This meant twenty straight nights of broken rest as Faria was so keyed up that she could only drop off for an hour or so before waking to make sure the flames were still burning brightly. She could barely keep her mind on her daily lessons and she rarely even left the apothecary. Both her father and mother let her be though; they too had gone through the stress of a first real job and knew that their daughter would come out of it just fine.
Now, it being day number twenty-one, Ellio entered the room, adjusting the many watches he had hanging over the front of his coat. Giving the potion a once-over, he waved his hand over the flames, reducing their size somewhat.
"Quite the diligent worker, aren't you?" he asked his daughter. Faria groaned in response, slumping over the worktable. Ellio chuckled, adding,
"It needs to stew for another week."
"And then?" The Master of Fate cast his grey eyes over his apprentice.
"Then, you will be set on your next task, of course."
Of course.
*****************************************************************************************************************************************************
The moon's rays were as bright as a beam from a flashlight, providing Faria plenty of light as she hustled through the forest. The still hot skull, wrapped in several layers of cloth to protect her hands, still glowed, but with a pure white light rather than an evil red aura.
Shaking her black hair out of her eyes, Faria recalled her father's instructions.
"Take the potion into the clearing in the heart of the woods. Set it on the stump in the middle of the clearing and let the midnight moon do the rest."
Well, it was almost midnight now, but where was the… there! Through those trees. Faria arrived just as the moon finished ascending in the sky. Quickly, she placed the skull on the stump and uncovered it. Taking a step back, Faria watched as the moonlight fell upon the potion.
At first, the potion just kept glowing. Then, the liquid inside seemed to congeal, almost looking like it was a mass of squirming tendrils. The tendrils seemed to break up, turning into tiny writhing… things no bigger than a grain of rice. Finally, at the very center of the squirming mass, a soft green light began to grow. The green light bloomed brighter and brighter until Faria had to shield her eyes from it. At last, the light died down and Faria was able to stare into the skull once again. Sure enough, the skull was full of tiny squirming worm-like creatures that now glowed bright green. Faria could feel the magic that radiated from them like heat from the sun. A feeling of pride swept through her as she realized that she- she- was the one who had helped infuse the potion with such power.
But something wasn't right. With her previous small projects, Faria had always been left with a sense of fulfillment. With this project, her first real attempt to aid Fate, Faria felt as though she was lacking something.
Slumping down next to the stump, Faria gazed at the skull full of the magic things, totally at a loss. What now? She had assumed that she would take the finished product back home, but that thought felt wrong. So what was she supposed to do?
Something small and white drifted through the trees, landing by Faria's foot. Curious, the thirteen-year-old reached down and picked it up. It was a small paper balloon, given the power of flight by a small candle tied to its underside. The whole thing was covered in crayon drawings that were obviously done by a child; crude stick figures and bright colors pretty much screamed the words young artist. Unfortunately, the scene depicted something that was anything but childish. Two angry and quite vicious-looking women were standing on a hilltop waving their hands while a small boy with wings was flying across the ocean to New York City (as evidenced by the words New York Episodes scrawled in red crayon across the top) where a group of people were waiting with huge smiles and welcoming arms.
Whoever drew this is probably lacking a gentle touch at the end of the day. Whoever the child was, he could probably benefit from her and her father's talents.
Something clicked in Faria's mind. Without a second thought, she grabbed the skull and poured the little green things into the paper balloon. Then, with skull and balloon in hand, Faria headed for home.
*****************************************************************************************************************************************************
Once again, the moon shone through the night sky, its rays glinting off the sides of a giant peach that was miraculously still tethered by its stem to a seemingly dead tree in the middle of a barren garden. Hiding in the shadows close to the fence surrounding the peach, Faria watched as the small form a little boy slowly cleaned up the trash left behind from the crowd that had come to view the miracle of nature.
The girl smiled softly as the boy glanced up at the sky, no doubt looking for a star to wish upon. Well, he didn't know it, but his wish was about to be granted.
Earlier that day, Faria had accompanied her father to present the magic concoction to the boy, who was called James. She had watched from a short distance away as Ellio gave James the instructions on how to use the magic, but the poor boy had tripped and fallen beneath the old peach tree, spilling the squirming creatures into the soil.
"Don't worry, Faria," her father told her. "We have set Fate on its proper course. It will be fine from here. That is, unless you'd like to give it a little help?"
Now, as James drew closer to her, Faria cupped her hands around her mouth and blew. A piece of paper fluttered to the ground just behind James. This caught the boy's attention and he reached to pick it up. Faria heard his wistful sigh as he recognized his paper balloon. He tore it fully open and to his surprise and delight, found one last green thing. Faria ducked out of sight as James gave chase, the green thing leading him closer to the peach. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, both youths spied a green light shining from a small hole in the peach. James approached it and eventually crawled into it, the hole sealing up behind him.
Faria waited until she heard the distinct welcoming shouts from inside the peach who, unbeknownst to them, were now receiving a gift from a Master of fate: a little boy that they would all call their own.
"Good luck," Faria de Wilyowreed whispered. And with a gust of wind, the young Master of Fate vanished.