Hello, if you've made it this far I guess I'm doing alright! Reviews are definitely appreciated, let's me know how I'm doing. I'm going to try to keep to a Thursday posting schedule. I want to say this chapter is when the story really gets going and I promise you'll see your first glimpse of familiar faces soon. Maybe Chapter 5 :)
As usual, credit to J.K. Rowling for building an ever expanding world we get to live in.
Chapter 3 - Preparation
The next couple weeks leading up to a particularly cool August morning were fairly routine. For most of the village, this includes rising with the sun, trading last night's crafted goods and checking up on the sick and elderly who would've gone largely unsupervised in the dark of night. Then, when the noontime heat becomes largely unbearable, the women and children retreat to the shelter of their homes to continue honing their particular craft. Meanwhile the men, who unfortunately did not have the luxury of shade, wrap their heads in linens to brave the day in search of food or materials for the town, except for the Kheferu men who diligently progressed the construction of the new house at the end of the river. The gradual decline in visibility brought on by sunset would bring on the cooling period when the villagers would cease their activities to prepare for supper time with their families. Typically, supper began at candlelight when the last rays of sunshine fell beneath the horizon and any playing kids were recalled home.
In the Sphinkus house, routine consists of a light breakfast of fresh fruit and bread before Maxximus apprentices on the tasks of the day while receiving verbal lessons on whichever topics the Priestess deemed relevant for the day. On this particular morning however, the Priestess' eyes suddenly flashed open in response to an especially ominous nightmare, or vision, depending on one's considerations on the magical discipline of Divination. Maxximus' mother however, aware of Dream Messages that are common to African wizards and witches, is not one to leave things open to interpretation. Something was coming, a long time coming, and it involved her only child, he needed to be prepared.
That is why, while Maxximus lay sound asleep, a couple hours before the first light of dawn, the sorceress cast a powerful silencing charm on herself and the whole of her home except her son. A pin could be heard dropping, if the pin itself had not also been subject to the mass silencing, that is. The only sounds to be heard in the home now were the ever-constant flowing of the river in symphony with the young boy's steady breathing. Confident that nothing would be able to wake her son prematurely, this concerned mother began completing all the tasks of the day, which she would've otherwise shared with Maxximus, at a furious pace thanks to an unrepentant flexing of her wide array of magical abilities. Grains were being ground finer than the Sahara sands, a series of various healing potions were being brewed simultaneously and a handful of tools were being enchanted for sharp edges and durability. This impressive display of complex wandless magic stirred so much energy in the room such that the woman's orange-brown eyes were now lit like the embers of a settling bonfire, and her hair, which she conveniently forgot to braid, was cascading wildly about her head mirroring black waves of an angry tempest.
It is precisely once all her chores had been wrapped up, did she lift the magical blanket and her son's ocean eyes decided to pierce the retreating darkness of the approaching dawn.
"Mama? Your hair is a mess." he utters groggily. As he slowly sits up in his linen wrapped straw bed and gains his bearings, he absorbs the scene in front of him. Medicine already bottled, tools already glinting with the subtle signs of an enchantment and the flour being magically poured into the jars painted with the hippopotamus. "Mama? How did you? When did you? Wait a minute, there's nothing left for me! Does that mean I get to go play?" he optimistically assumes.
His mother, now smoothing her garb and settling her hair to fall loosely over her shoulders and back, takes a moment to craft her answer. "Habibi… I was up early today and magically finished all our chores because from now on, I will need your full and undivided attention for the upcoming lessons." Satisfied with her answer thus far, she prepares her son and herself a quick breakfast and takes a seat at their dining table for two.
Realization dawned on the boy.
"Mama?"
"Yes Maxximus?"
"You could've done all our chores before I woke up this whole time."
The Priestess pinched the bridge of her nose at the astute yet not desired observation of the young man. "Yes Maxximus, however, it is important that we not always rely on magic and learn to accomplish things innovatively. How do you think the rest of the village completes their chores? The same way we've done up to this point. In fact, their lack of magic allows them to improve their techniques continuously. This improvement breeds discipline and pride in their abilities." Breakfast served, she now settles into the mind space that allows her to organize her thoughts such that her lessons become fluid and easy to understand. "Today, Maxximus, will mark the beginning of your own magical training." This got his attention, and his eyes were now focused on his mother, cobalt connecting with copper. "I get to do magic? You can teach me how to make the paintings move? Please oh please I want to make fire and fly the ball! Roori will be so jealous!"
"Maxximus Sphinkus!" the Sphinkus matron chides. "Magic is not a toy; it is a gift and a tool. Definitely not to be used to make boys who cannot use it jealous." The boy, looking appropriately scolded at the rare use of his last name and the following explanation whispers a quiet apology.
"Additionally, you will not be practicing any magic today, if not even for another few days after today. Today, you will sit, and you will listen. I am going to teach you some History of Magic, dating back to before recorded time. This is extremely important. Commit as much of it to memory as you can."
The boy, captivated by the clear passion for Magic his mother is exhibiting and the -up to this point- rarity of the situation he finds himself in, gets comfortable in preparation of the tale he is about to hear.
"Magic… exists in all things, from the inanimate sand beneath our feet to the most complex organisms we have yet to discover. However, we do not know if Magic entered our world before mankind or if mankind brought Magic to our world. For as long as humanity has existed there have been tales of magic and mysticism originating from the divine. The stories of gods and great heroes that grace the very walls of our village are proof of this Maxximus." She pauses a moment allowing the boy's eyes to wander as if seeing his home for the first time. "Now, as you've seen, not everyone is capable of wielding Magic and shaping the world with their will. I and all of your ancestors have so been blessed but it has been historically rare for even one other such wielder to appear in our village. You've undoubtedly noticed a fair few accidents that have had no explanation happening around you as well. Bricks do not naturally turn blue after all." This time, curious blue eyes yield to a mischievous glint reminiscent of past pranks of 'happenstance' which once again widen in reality-shaking understanding.
"I've already DONE magic Mama? All those things weren't the phoenixes or you? Woah! I'm magical!" He is practically vibrating in his chair at this point.
A patient look from his mother settles him as his curiosity peaks. "Wait, only our family can do magic? But that's so sad. How come not everyone can learn?"
A knowing smile would suggest anticipation of this avenue of conversation. "As I said earlier, Magic is a gift that has been bestowed upon only certain people to be passed down the generations. Every so often, however, Magic blesses a new line with its gift and a non-magical woman may birth a magical baby. While we cannot confirm this, we suspect Magic aims to maintain balance among humans so that the Magical does not outweigh the Mundane whilst also not going extinct itself. Following this thought, our village has always been prosperous and would suggest that just you and I are enough." With that last phrase the Priestess reaches out to her son's hand and holds it, the mother sneaking out behind the facade of the teacher. "While some families, like ours, acknowledge our duty to serve our community, it was not always so… Before I begin this next portion, I'll need a cup of water. Meanwhile Maxximus, could you remind me of what I have said about life and living?" Taking her time to pour herself a cup from the large, fired clay vase of drinking water, she waits for her son to gather his thoughts.
"Ummm… I think it was something like life is only precious because it ends and that we need to live life a certain way because of it. I'm sorry Mama, I know the words, but I don't really get it. Life is fun, food, and chores!" The last he said with a cheeky grin.
"It's okay Habibi, if you understood the mysteries of life at fourteen, I'd be asking you to teach me! It's a lifelong journey and hopefully this next chapter will help." The Priestess, overall proud of the maturity and desire to learn her growing child is exhibiting, finishes the last of her cup and retakes her seat.
"Now, recall that Magic typically graces a few family lines, well… some of these families decided to abuse the gift they were given and attempted to cheat Natural Law. One such family existed long before recorded history. Native to Greece across the sea to the north, the Olympians w-" A large explosion was heard into the village and the sound of a panicked crowd erupted moments after.
"Maxximus, stay here. I will be back. Do. Not. Leave." Maxximus, never having seen his mother's eyes alight with such fire, knew that this time there would be no room for any shenanigans and to stay put. He nods his head solemnly.
Outside, the sun blazing in mid-afternoon heat, was watching over the calamity taking place below. Houses near the end of the river were lathered with mud, their residents running outside to gaze at the disruption. A few women were huddled around the disheveled form of a man unconscious; children were being ushered into shelters higher upstream. Not without difficulty as their ever-inquisitive natures and naive young bravado caused them to attempt to slip from grasp. Once such child, the young boy Boukari, slithered from his brother's grasp and ran with all the might of his growing legs towards the source of all the chaos, and, what he saw, he really wished he hadn't. The scene in front of him could only be described as grim. The newest construction site evolved into a crater. The oldest Kheferu son was pinned against a wall by a large mud brick pressed against his chest. Boukari knew him, Heru Kheferu, an indomitable young man who often carried Boukari on his shoulders during festivals. It was unimaginable to see such a pillar rendered helpless in this way but there he was. This forced the little boy to look away with tear-filled eyes. But the new scene that swam in his watery vision did not improve. Mr. Kheferu, a bear of a man with a vast mane of curly hair and a beard of equal proportions, lay unconscious. The problem was that he was not whole. His right arm was missing at the shoulder, a bloody mud puddle forming below him. At this point, the young lad, completely overwhelmed, was openly crying. Only the shouts of some other men drew him temporarily out of his sobbing state. There he saw the rest of the men from the village forming a perimeter around the largest rhinoceros he had ever seen. Likely about three times the size of such. However, this was an atypical beast, for her horn glowed a soft orange colour, brightening with the men's shouting.
It was then that he felt her presence before he saw her. A wave of energy, causing the hairs on his skin to stand, and then, he began to strangely feel very tired and started sitting down. His last sight before succumbing to dreams was that of an ivory white flowing tunic beneath a singular braid interwoven with gold.
"Put down your sticks! They will not harm her, and you are only scaring her further!" the Priestess commanded arriving at the scene.
"NOW!" the full weight of her intent radiating in waves, enough to shock the men into listening.
"Go back up the river, tend to the Kheferu, they are all wounded severely. And someone take young Boukari to his mother, he has seen enough. I will handle the Erumpent." For that's what the creature was. Not waiting for the men to listen to her this time, she raised her hands and the sand beneath the beast's feet began climbing up its legs before solidifying into black rock. Then with a whistle and swirl of her right hand, two sets of ropes were conjured around the front and hind legs of the Erumpent who was already nearly cracking through the hastily erected restraints.
A fraction of a moment after the ropes set into place, the transfigured rocks shattered, returning to sand, and, when the crazed animal attempted to charge, the ropes held fast and it tripped, jaw crashing into the sand dazing the beast slightly.
"She won't stay stunned for long. Helios, Aurora, do you mind helping me calm the creature with your song?" By this point the phoenix couple had flown down from the oasis and perched on the Priestess' shoulders. Then as if on cue, a beautifully serene duet carried over the plateau and the cacophony of the village immediately began to settle. Last to calm was the tangled Erumpent whose horn finally began to dim. It was a small comfort that it was not able to let off a second explosion, the first already having caused so much devastation.
"Sorry for the ropes my dear, what had you so incensed?" As she vanished the ropes and lay a hand beneath the lidded eye of the now relaxed animal. A moment was all that was required to commune with the now calm giant.
"Ah. A cacophony of Fwoopers moved into your watering hole while you slept." Pensive for a moment, she tears two pieces of fabric from the shoulders of her tunic and mutters a few enchantments over them.
"Here girl, these will block out all noise and dissolve in the water of your watering hole. Head home and maybe give them the same surprise you gave us." A cheeky grin mirrored by a snort confirmed mutual understanding as she places the cloth in the ears of the Erumpent and pets the bridge of its snout. Finally, as the sun disappeared in the west, the silhouette of the calmed animal faded in the east.
"Even the animals can sense it coming. I have no time to waste." the mother whispers to herself when she walks through the doorway to her home. There she finds her son asleep in his chair, likely calmed into sleep by the phoenix song as well.
"Perhaps tomorrow, I at least have tomorrow…"