100 Words: The Waiting Wizard

Not all the Wizards found one another again after their banishment.

In the stone home he created, Brian waits still.

He used to think about leaving to find the others, he used to hike for miles; but slowly he lost faith.

Now he just feels outwards, checking the area for wands each day.  

Some days he thinks about removing the magic that keeps him going, of succumbing to old age.

But he knows he cannot, the consequences of magic falling into the wrong arms.  

Brian instead continues to wait, like the last dragons once did, for another of his ilk.

---

Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:

Thanks to Piya Singh for this week’s photo prompt.

An InLinkz Link-up

250 Words (x3): The three in one go spectacular! (The helfenschwein, the curious boy and the wizard)

The helfenschwein,…

Schnauzeschnorzel, the helfenschwein to the wizard, Peter, was in the forest’s river filling a pot to take back to his master’s home for to be used for potions, his tea (the infusion of leaves that the wizard drank with milk and sugar) and his tea (his daily light evening meal).  

It had been a long day for Schnauzeschnorzel, as most were, sniffing out and finding plants as well as preparing meals for himself and his master.  There were still his duties helping with the evening’s research to come.

And it had been a very hot day, too.  Not so bad, perhaps, in the forest as for those living outside its cooling shade and breeze, but still unpleasant for a pig assistant having to fetch and carry heavy things to and fro.  And so Schnauzeschnorzel was lying naked in the river, only his snout poking through the water’s surface- the pot resting next to him at the bottom, ready-filled for the return journey.

Happily he lay, dreamily, knowing that it mattered not if he spent an overly long time cooling down.  He knew one spell, sneakily discovered one glorious evening years before, and it enabled him to move quickly, quietly and without effort back to the wizard’s hut.

A spanner, though, was moving towards the works that day.  And Schnauzeschnorzel was lying so happily as he felt the water move about and caress his aching arms, legs and back, that he only discovered that spanner when it roughly grabbed his snout.

*

…the curious boy…

The curious boy, Craig, sat at the river’s edge staring at the helfenschwein.  He was supposed to be collecting kindling wood but boredom had inevitably taken over and the boy had wandered.

It was the strangely shaped clothes that he had noticed first.  They didn’t look like they would fit any person that he had ever seen.  No one was that round except for in stories.  Though some said the king was and that thought had made Craig approach the river’s edge.  What he saw astounded him.

A pig lying, almost entirely submerged in the water, flat on its back like a person might on their bed.  Not just any pig, either, but one with what looked like human hands.  Craig wasn’t completely sure about this part because of the water’s distorting effects but that’s how it looked.

He watched for some time until, as nothing happened or changed, Craig’s curiosity got the better of him.  Carefully he approached the edge of the river and slowly lowered his feet, one at a time, into the water before taking calm fairy steps toward the helfenschwein, approaching from downstream to try and minimise the chances of alerting it.

Once alongside, Craig stood and continued to watch this beast of the water.  It seemed not to be breathing and, to test if it was alive or not, Craig reached out a hand and grabbed its snout.  As soon as Craig did this there was a strange popping sound and everything around him changed.

*

…and the wizard

The helfenschwein and the curious boy found themselves in the wizard, Peter’s, cabin wet and dripping.

“You,” Peter announced, pointing at Schnauzeschnorzel, “Get a mop and clean this mess up!”

“And you,” Peter continued, turning to Craig, “I should kill.” 

The boy took a sharp intake of breath- “Fortunately for you wizards don’t believe in such punishments.”- and let it out again. 

“What I’m meant to do is make you forget but I don’t believe in that either.

“What I’m going to do is strike a deal.  In exchange for not tampering with your mind, you must never tell a soul about these events.  I’m going to cast a spell on you to help make sure.  If you do tell someone, you will instantly forget about all of this and everyone will believe you to be mad.  

“How does that sound?”

“Fine, sir,” Craig said very quickly.

“Excellent.”

Peter retreated into his kitchen to brew the potion.  What little Craig could hear and see tantalised him but he would not act upon his curiosity again that day.  Rather he stood still, not daring to take a closer look for fear of a greater punishment.

Soon Peter returned with the potion which Craig drank before swearing to never speak of that day. 

“Excellent,” the wizard reacted and there was another popping sound: Craig and Schnauzeschnorzel found themselves back in the river.  The boy mumbled an apology and, quickly, the pair moved in opposite directions, quickly getting on with their duties.

To the top

Have you ever had to conquer yourself?  I have.  I annoyed a wizard one time and she took me out of myself, made me miniscule and said I would be restored if I climbed myself.

My first thought was, “Thank goodness I wore such long trousers.”  I didn’t dare look further than my shoes initially and, well, I’ve no idea how I would have scaled my sole.  Instead, I was easily able to climb onto the very bottom of my trousers and began the ascent.

Really it was not so bad, just a very long climb.  My clothes meant it was like a very big ladder.  Sure, it was tricky moving from trouser to shirt and the change in rung weave made it tricky for a bit, but it was fine.  Plus, I didn’t move.  With me not at home, my body kept statue-still, I had no worries.

Until I reached the top of my collar.  From there, I had to jump to get into my hair.  This froze me in terror for a time, it was something I didn’t even want to contemplate as failure would mean the end of everything.

It was a look down that convinced me just to go for it.  Then rope climb after rope climb began.  I’d never mastered it at school but, with my life depending upon it, it became surprisingly easy.

Once at the top, I made my way through the forest until I was suddenly at the appropriate point and returned to myself.


“Now, you won’t be doing that again, I’m sure, after all you have endured,” the wizard proudly announced.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I countered.  

Foolishly, stupidly.  You see, a wizard does not like to be told their punishment was not fitting, just, or well executed, even.  

So she said, “You were meant to think about what you’d done,” and turned me, all and every part, miniscule instead.  With no hope of a return.

Now I scratch out a life upon the floor of the wizard’s house, avoiding feet, furniture and mice, trying to beat them to crumbs.  

And all because I sought to jump a few hurdles, to skip ahead with my wizard training, leaving me without even the wands (why did I not at least wait for the wands?).

I can do nothing now but live in the hope, where there is probably none, of a second return from the wizard’s spell.

---

Written for the Light and Shade Challenge from the written prompt "It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves." - Edmund Hillary

George Joy’s Guide to Faerytale Creatures, No 11: Gargeloyles

At one time, hundreds of years ago, in the waterways of Europe lived microscopic creatures that lay in wait for people to collect up and gargle the water containing them - for only when being gargled were they able to do their bidding.  Which was to attach themselves to the oesophagus of their victim and from there find their way up past the nose to the brain where, in their millions they were able to take over a person’s brain and control them. 

These creatures, known as Gargeloyles, aimed to one day take over the entire human race.  As they infected one human, so that human would encourage another to gargle infected water, thus increasing the number of Gargeloyle puppets. 

Only a few areas are known to have had Gargeloyle populations that managed to take control of a number of humans.  There was one village where an infected boy of seven was able to convince first his siblings and friends to join him in gargling to make funny noises and then several adults before something strange was suspected.  Elsewhere a whole district of a town became Gargeloyle before they were discovered.

Initially, seeing these events as an invasion of evil forces, the victims were slaughtered and their bodies burned.  Although this probably did successfully kill the Gargeloyles present, it was not ideal for the victim.  But then how could a microscopic being be stopped before anyone knew creatures so tiny existed?

Gargeloyles were eventually stopped by a wizard passing through one of the affected areas.  Using the powers only wizards have she was able to feel and then see these tiny creatures both in the water and in the brains of the infected puppets. 

She then removed them all by force before enlarging each and turning them to stone, showing their grotesque forms to the world, including the relieved victims.  Most shattered during the process, creating great hills of stone, but many remained and were used in municipal architecture and churches as water spouts, their names soon being corrupted into gargoyle.  The wizard then travelled the world searching out and destroying Gargeloyles and other troublesome microscopic beings.

And that is both how a menacing little beast was made extinct and a cornerstone of gothic architecture invented.

George Joy’s Guide to Faery Tale Creatures, No 4: The Book Worms

The Book Worms have run the libraries of the wizards for centuries, though few outside wizard circles have seen either these fountains of wisdom or the book keepers themselves.  Even the sites of these libraries is disputed.  Many say they are within hills such as Glastonbury Tor and Silbury Hill.  Others that they were there but were moved to earthworks below the keeps of castles such as at Dover.  Yet more believe they were always at such strongholds, citing Tintagel while some say they are in far more out of the way, or even abandoned, places such as Skara Brae.

And that's just in Britain.  Arguments rage throughout the world as to where these libraries are; or were.

What it is not disputed is the existence and history of the librarians.  They were created by magic to do the bidding of the magical world and in that sense they are very much a slave species.  And, like the Helfenschwein and the Orks, they do not care, only knowing how to get on with life.

It was the work of the wizarding couple, Claire and Phillip that created the race.  They were part of a group of wizards who had set up the very first wizarding library in the early days of magic at a location that is still, of course, a closely guarded secret.  Though wizards were still in their infancy, they had already accrued a mass of literature that desperately needed a place to live.  The purpose of it was not just to store all wizard texts, espeicially the oldest, most rare, sacred and dangerous, but all also to keep a record of the wizard’s history.

These purposes they felt were too time-consuming for themselves and, at the time, beyond the Helfenschwein, whom they saw as simple home-help.  And so Phillip and Claire came up with the idea of taking worms from the ground and transforming them into creatures designed to do the aforementioned tasks.  The reasoning being that they could live in the ground, out of the way of all life forms the wizards felt should not know of these book safe houses.

They took five worms, enlarged them and gave them arms and legs.  This gave them a strange and gangly appearance, their heads able to bend either forward or right over to look down at humans.  It also gave them a tail that follows them around, forever dragging behind.

The Book Worms live close by their libraries in tunnels that connect to a secret underground staff entrance.  Each has its own sand nest where it retreats each night to rest and recuperate, living off the nutrients found in the soil that is fertilised from above by wizards. 

Each morning they go to the place their life is devoted to, here socialising with other Book Worms, helping to build a strong team.  While at work, they help wizards with enquiries, conserve the manuscripts and, of course, write the wizard chronicles.

Every library is said to have a small, separate staff who devote their time to this.  These tireless folk pour over the wizard press, and call out for eye witness testimony in order to write a full and unbiased account of the goings-on outside. 

Book Worms reproduce once in their lifetime.  This occurs about three quarters of the way through their life when they will lay an egg which they also fertilise.  The rest of the Book Worm's life is then partly devoted to training their offspring to replace them.  As such the Book Worm population neither meaningfully grows or depletes.

Myths of our Solar System (12): Mars, the warring wizard

Few wizards took part in the First War, the war that determined the make-up of This World
and divided the population between the Underearth and the Overearth. Most more or less
ignored it completely and continued with their studies, trying to make sense of the world
they had been presented with for study. And not wanting to throw away their immortality
and die.

Not for Mars, though, that life of contemplation and self-preservation. He saw the war as
The Chaos at work once more and knew that he could use his discoveries and magic to
help wrestle it to (and, as it turned out, under) the ground.

In the Old World, Mars had always been known for the fun his research and magic
created. In the great gardens around the Tree of Life he conjured firework displays to
entertain the population. Little adjustment was needed to turn these into weapons that
would explode and scatter the enemy.

Before long he found that he could use the explosions to fire rocks at the enemy. And
then he discovered and learned new ways to treat the explosives, such as creating small
handheld charges with fuses that could be lit and thrown and firing bombs that explode on
impact.

Along the way, though, Mars lost his taste for this bloodshed. In his role as weapons
inventor, he had always kept his distance from the fighting, seeing his weapons in action
from a distance.

Then one day he bumped into a fellow wizard called Panacea, who was covered in blood
and visibly shaken. Mars asked her what had happened and she told him that she had
lost many that day, that the enemies weapons, like his, were getting better and it was
getting harder for her to cope. Her healing magic was still in its infancy, you see. Cuts,
even quite deep ones, were easy (as every wizard knew) but insides were another matter
entirely and Panacea was struggling on her own.

Mars went with Panacea to her field hospital and saw the carnage. He stayed on to
help as best he could. And, as he did, Mars got to thinking about the opposition, what
his weapons must be doing to them who did not have wizards. And soon he pledged to
discover a way to bring about an end to this war and ensure there that would never be
another.

This he did, of course, and so successful was he that he went the same way as Mercury
and was used to aid the Underearth’s first return.