Interlude
Seven Isles, Elvra, year 800
Legends about the Seven Isles were rare. Stories that people cared about were even rarer. The Isles were little-known about, and even less cared about. They were just seven sparsely populated, little islands far up north, too far to really have any relationship with other than trade. But there was one story about the Isles, or more specifically about a person who lived in the Isles, that most people knew and loved to discuss. The story of the magician.
Everyone claims to have seen the magician at least once in his or her life, yet no one can agree on what he looks like. Some say he glows like a small sun, others say he looks a monk, though all agree that he doesn't look completely human. Some say he is a fallen star, exiled from the great sky. Others assume he is a long lost descendent of a the moon, destined to live a tragic life here on earth.
One woman knew better.
She walked along the rocky terrain of the island Elvra of the Seven Isles, confident of her destination. After months of careful research, and work she had found the answers she was searching for. This magician was a fallen star, though he wasn't exiled or a long lost descendent of the moon, he was merely a star that had been far too curious about land that he decided to see what it was like for himself. Such as land creatures are fascinated by stars, stars are fascinated by land dwellers. The star had then learned deep, dark, seductive art of magic, and soon became a renowned master of the art. All of which happened over a hundred years ago. Nowadays he was merely a myth, a bedtime story told to children to keep their dreams and hopes alive. The woman smirked to herself at the thought.
As she walked along, the woman began to realize why out of the places to live, the magician choose Elvra. It was without a doubt one of the most unpopulated islands she had ever been to. The only people she saw had been in the town by the northern coastline. If a person wanted to disappear and not be found, this island was clearly the best place to go.
The woman pushed a branch out of her way, and saw a small, stone cottage sitting neatly in a clearing. The magician's home. The magic around it vibrated in the air, causing her heartbeat to quicken and the hairs on her body to stand on end. Oh yes he was powerful, perhaps even more powerful than her, though she'd never admit that. He was exactly the person she needed. The magic of this world was still foreign to her; it was different from everything she was used to, and even after all of these years she still had difficulty performing the spells she longed to use. But those days were gone! With this magician's help, there was no doubt in her mind everything that was just out of her reach would soon be caught in her claws unable to escape. The world would be their oyster. She walked closer to the cottage.
As if sensing someone was arriving, the magician opened the front door, and silently walked out of his house, shutting it behind him. He had a long, nearly white beard, and was wearing a red robe the color of cherries. His eyes looked directly at the woman.
"Are you the magician, the one they call Coriakin?" She asked.
"Aye, I am," he replied looking at her curiously. "To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
"I am called Elphaba," the woman lied, her sister's name slipping from her tongue. Names could be dangerous weapons in the wrong hands. "I have traveled a long way in search of you."
"Have you? Whatever for?" He asked.
A rush of annoyance flashed through her. If the old star would have let her finished, she would have answered his question. She forced herself to be patient; she had a feeling she would be doing that quite often. Think of the reward, she thought. It is worth any annoyance that comes along. Soon enough people would be bowing down to her, not even daring to look at her, let alone interrupt her.
"I have heard stories of your great talent for magic," she said hoping the flattery would soften him up. "I was thinking we could come to an agreement."
"What is it you want with me?" Coriakin asked cautiously, his eyes narrowing.
"I wish to learn what you know of magic."
The magician's suspicions vanished completely, and he smiled widely at her.
"Well why didn't you just say so?" he asked excitedly. "Come in, come in I am always willing and happy to teach someone what I know. After all what is the purpose of knowing information if one will not share it? How else is the truth and talent going to survive?"
The woman had no response, and merely nodded along. Coriakin showed her around his home, talking the entire time. He was intelligent, she wouldn't deny him that, but he did seem rather naive and innocent despite his years. Poor fool. He questioned her about where she traveled from, and she answered Ettinsmoor; the woman knew she was tall enough to get away with the lie. The magician continued talking, and asking questions until the moon was high up in the sky. It was only when they agreed to get some sleep did she realize that he was probably lonely all the way out here. Fool.
Over the next few years, Coriakin proved himself a patient, and knowledgeable teacher. He taught her every spell she wanted, from simple things like turning objects to stone to the most challenging ones such as freezing time and controlling the weather. Some of these she already knew how to do, others she knew of, but didn't understand how exactly to cast.
Several spells, and years later she left without a good-bye or a trace. When Coriakin noticed his spell book missing, he didn't want to, but knew that she had taken it. Over the years her true nature became known, and he was sorry for ever teaching her. Then when the Tree of Protection was knocked down in Narnia, and a never-ending winter began in the Land of Beasts, Coriakin, who knew precisely how to stop this, did the worst possible thing anyone could do, and did nothing.
