Just a Lil Bit of Magic

Thank you to my friend Mohan Kumar Gandas for constructing this picture for me!

“Vannie?”

She wouldn’t look at him. Taking hold of her hand, he waited; she looked up from staring at the candle; their eyes met and she slowly lowered hers back down.

“So, where does that leave us?”

The silence seemed to stretch forever. She pulled her hand away from his; retreating. She licked a finger and brought it to the middle of the candle’s flame; startled when it jumped from the wick to the back of her hand. Resisting the urge to look at him, she stared at the flame moving up her arm.

The yellow and blue fire paused momentarily on her shoulder then leapt onto the top of her head.

Sebastian moved it to the tip of her nose and stifled a laugh as her eyes crossed trying to see it. Letting it fall gently, it paused momentarily at her mouth as if to give her a soft kiss.

Vannie shied away; afraid, but as the small flame brushed her lips, she found it to be cool and sweet.

It fell onto the back of his hand and he moved his knuckles; making the little flame dance.

She watched his face.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

Sebastian’s eyes shot up; meeting hers.

“Your brother; you miss him don’t you?”

He replaced the flame onto the wick.

“There was a time we were inseparable.”

She nodded and grasped his hand; gently urging him on.

“We had our own way of conversing.”

He smiled and Vannie knew he was miles away; lost in a memory.

“Once in our lesson…”

 “No” Sir Rowell pounded his fists, “no, no, no. Now try again Magello.”

The boy felt his elbows jump; he felt the vibrations of the tabletop up his arm, to his hand which rested on the side of his face. Looking across the table at his older brother Dyon; he saw him smile and shrug.

Magello rolled his eyes.

“Mage, come on try.”

Dyon’s voice in his head made him frown. He sent back, “It doesn’t matter how hard I try; I can't do it.”

“But you still should try. Maybe, if you…”

“Stop!”

Both the boys jumped as Rowell appeared in the middle of the table; his arms outstretched pointing one finger in each of the boy’s directions. They sat back in their chairs; duly chastised.

Seeing that he had their attention, he walked through the table and stood at the head.

“I’ve told you before that this” he waved a hand in between the two of them; a look of distaste plain on his face, “communicating; this mind thing. I will not tolerate it.” Rowell looked to Dyon and he nodded. He shifted his gaze to Magello; who folded his arms across his chest and glared back at the teacher.

“Ma-ge-llo?”

He hated the way Rowell said his name; in his stupid sing song way.

Dyon looked at his brother; he would help Magello; like he did before, but Rowell cleared his throat. Dyon saw him imperceptibly shake his head; still staring at Magello.

The younger boy finally relented; unfolding his arms and nodding. He held out his hand; palm up.

“Now concentrate”, he heard Rowell say, “just let your mind do the work.”

He felt like rolling his eyes again, but instead he looked at him, “Could Dyon do it just one more time? I think if I see it once more, I’ll be able to do it.”

Dyon looked at Rowell and the teacher nodded.

The older boy put out his hand.

“Choose well.”

Dyon nodded and stared at his hand.

Rowell looked at Magello; the younger boy was watching his brother intently. The teacher’s countenance softened; the boy would yet be the death of him; but if he could get the boy to see how he could be, Magello would be his crowning glory. He stroked his goatee; thinking.

                Magello saw how effortlessly Dyon called up his magic. He didn’t even break a sweat.  If it was anyone else but him, he would have been jealous, but Dyon was his hero; all he felt for his brother was pride.

                Magello’s eyes followed the trail of white smoke that led from the tattoo on Dyon’s wrist to exactly six inches above his palm; ending in a transparent bubble; visible inside was a sleeping child. The child’s face was contorted in fear; his breathing loud and quick.

                “Now just send a positive thought.”

                Looking back at his brother; Magello saw Dyon’s brow wrinkle in concentration; then his face smoothed; he nodded to Rowell.

                “Do you have it?” Rowell rounded the table and was now behind Dyon; squatting down to be level with the boy.

                Dyon nodded; eyes closed; too in the moment to speak.

                “Good, now just a little bit of magic, push it to him.” Rowell’s voice was barely a whisper.

                Dyon opened his eyes to look at the teacher; nodding, he turned back to the bubble.

                Magello watched as another trail of smoke began to wind its way up from the same tattoo, but before the second bubble could form completely, Dyon blew on it gently. It wavered for a moment, then slowly, it moved towards the first bubble merging with it.

                They all held their breath as the idea hovered over the child. It slowly descended and entered the child’s head; his brow soon smoothed and his breathing slowed and quieted. A small smile began to spread and the bubble disappeared with a soft pop.

                Dyon looked from his hand to Rowell.

 The teacher’s face lit up; a smile lengthening from one ear to the other, “Excellent! Well done my boy!” both he and Magello patted him on the back and Dyon straightened in his chair.

“I did it?” Dyon asked, still in shock.

 “Yes you did.” Magello said, beaming for his brother.

Dyon’s smile matched that of his brother’s, “And if I can do it, you can too.”

Magello felt his stomach drop, hoping that the teacher hadn’t heard. But when he looked in Rowell’s direction, the absence of the smile told him that he had.

“Yes, you can.” Dyon said as Magello began to shake his head, “you have to at least try. It really isn’t that hard.”

Magello looked at his brother incredulously, “You’re better at this than I am.”

“Nonsense; come now.”

Rowell’s voice made Magello cringe. He was about to argue, but knew it would only enrage both him and his teacher and he would still have to do the lesson.

Magello nodded and blew out the air he was holding. He closed his eyes.

“Don’t let your concentration waiver.”

Magello opened his eyes, looked at his teacher and nodded. He took another deep breath and letting it out; closed his eyes and felt for the source.

“Cautiously; only a lil bit of magic.”

He wanted to tell Rowell to shut up, but just shrugged him off.

A thin vibrant green smoke oozed from his wrist tattoo and flowed toward his palm and then up. The balloon that formed was larger and more detailed than Dyon’s. Inside, a small girl was visible; sleeping. The child was thrashing in her bed and tossing her head side to side; her mouth fixed in a silent scream.

“Now ease the idea into life.”

Magello heard Rowell’s voice next to his ear and nodded without opening his eyes.

Beads of sweat began to erupt across Magello’s brow. A small, thin blue line appeared from Magello’s wrist; near the other. It hovered for a second then shot out and pierced the first balloon as if it was an arrow fired from a crossbow. The vision of the child stretched and then disappeared with a loud pop.

Magello didn’t want to open his eyes; he hated the look of disappointment Rowell would give him and even now, he felt Dyon’s hand on his shoulder squeezing in sympathy. He begrudgingly opened them.

He decided to broach the subject before Rowell could. He looked at the man now standing, “Isn’t there any other way to do this?”

Rowell shook his head, “No, this is the only way to influence one’s dreams.”

Magello didn’t want to let it go, “But there’s got to be another way; maybe if I could enter their dream…”

Rowell stomped across the room, stopped before a vast bookshelf, held his hand out and waited; a book flew from the bookshelf into his hand. He walked back and slammed the book onto the tabletop.

“You have read this book from cover to cover; no?”

Even though Magello had recognized it immediately, he turned the book to read the gilded title: Pangaea Conjury by Alhaga Saberhagger. He nodded slowly.

“Anywhere in that book does it describe physically entering another’s dream?”

Magello shook his head, “No, but; it must be just like when Saberhagger talks about when the elder healers...”

The teacher nodded and leaned over, “Yes, but the elder healers are no more; no one on Pangaea has the ability.” Rowell brought his face very close to Magello’s, “now do they?”

“No, but maybe if I study...”

“You?” Rowell sneered interrupting, “you can't even do your lesson.”

Magello jumped to his feet; fists clenched at his sides, “Well maybe Dyon could.”

Rowell took another step closer to the defiant boy, “Dyon is to be king; he has no time to waste on such foolishness.” Rowell raised his voice to drown out Magello’s retort, “IF YOU” Realizing that yelling at the boy wouldn’t help. He lowered his voice, “If you just learned how to do your lesson, none of this would be needed.”

The darkness that spread over Magello’s face scared Dyon. He took hold of his brother’s shoulder and tried to separate him from Rowell, but the younger boy shrugged his hand off and backed out of the room. Dyon heard the door slam; its finality reverberating off the walls.

Magello walked sulkily into the dining room and saw his mother, father and Dyon. Seeing what was going on made him sigh and wished he had stayed in his room.

Dyon was sitting at his place, his eyes closed. Above him, Magello saw the transparent bubble pop; he wanted to turn and walk out; he knew what would be coming next.

“Excellent” said his father; Asmoda, he stood behind Dyon, his hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. He gave the shoulder a squeeze then returned to his place at the head of the table.

“Ah, there you are.”

Magello looked at his mother and smiled when she smiled at him.

Asmoda looked to where his wife was looking and he saw his youngest son take his place at the table; next to his brother, “Hmm.” He looked at Magello and frowned; it seemed this son was always in an unkempt state; his hair was dark and unruly and his face was smudged.

He still doubted that this bit of a boy before him would be the most powerful magician this world had ever seen. Rowell had to be wrong. The boy couldn’t even keep his shirt clean; even now he saw the boy chewing on his sleeve end and it made his ire grow.

“Magello!” he barked and felt his wife’s grip on his arm tighten. Hadn’t Islene just schooled Asmoda that he should try to be more patient with the boy? That maybe the reason he and Magello didn’t get along was because they were too much alike.

Pfft…he wouldn’t believe that for a second.

True, they had the same unruly hair; but he was the boy’s father after all; shouldn’t he look like him? And people had told him that Magello had the same piercing stare, but again, that was just physical characteristics. The boy was nothing like him. Of course the boy did share a lot of Asmoda’s likes, but again that could just be time spent together. And hadn’t Rowell made the comment that Magello’s defiant streak was a lot like his own. Hmmm… he would have to analyze this further before dispelling what Islene had said.

He looked at his son; trying to control his voice. Would it hurt him to comb his hair? “So, Magello; did you complete the dream adjustment lesson also?”

There was a hunching of shoulders and a harrumphing sound coming from the small boy and Asmoda had to control the urge to yell at him to sit up straight and stop mumbling.

“Well?” Asmoda looked at his son, but Magello kept his head down, “Did you learn the lesson or not?”

The boy sat stock still; refusing to meet his father’s eyes. Asmoda couldn’t believe the audacity of this boy. He was about to open his mouth, when Islene spoke.

“Magello, your father asked you a question?”

The anger/threat that filled the swirled blue, black and red eyes met his own, “Yes father?”

Asmoda took a deep breath before asking again; this time with clenched teeth, “Did you complete the dream adjustment lesson that Rowell.”

“Sir Rowell.” His wife corrected.

He resisted the urge to glare at Islene; keeping his gaze fixed on his son he raised a hand, “That Sir Rowell assigned you.”

Magello stared at his father. He knew he was taking his life in his hands not answering quickly, but he didn’t care, but looking at his mother; smiling; it softened him.

He sighed, “No, I could not complete it.”

Asmoda looked at his son, “why not?” he didn’t wait for the answer, “let me see; I may be able to help you.”

Magello wanted to roll his eyes, but knew his father would hit the roof.

The queen cleared her throat and Magello looked at his mother. She nodded, “Go on; show us.”

Taking a deep breath, Magello closed his eyes and tried to shut everything else out, but his brother’s voice broke in.

“Remember, just a lil bit of magic.”

Magello nodded and turned his hand palm up, the markings on his wrist beginning to pulse and rise. A puff of green smoke was expelled from the tattoo and began to snake its way up into the air. As the balloon was forming, he brought his other hand up, turned it palm up and placed it beside the other. The tattoos on the second hand began to emit a dark blue smoke.

“You’re supposed to…”

He heard the voices simultaneously.

The smoke dissipated and Magello opened his eyes. He looked first to Dyon, then to his father.

Asmoda spoke, “You put up your other hand; you’re only to use one.”

Magello did give his father an eye roll and he saw Asmoda’s gaze narrow and his eyes became an angry swirl of black and silver. He sat back in his seat, closed his eyes and tried again.

This time only using one hand he began again.

The bubble formed perfectly and the second stream almost formed completely before merging prematurely with the first and causing them both to pop.

Opening his eyes quickly, he looked at his father now scowling at him.

“Well, that’s not how you do it. Do it again and this time” he stood and walked around the table to where Magello sat, “This time I will instruct you.” he pulled out the boy’s chair and squatted down, “Come now.” He made himself comfortable; one knee propped on the floor, “Call your magic. I will show you how it’s done.”

Before Magello could move, Dyon’s voice was in his mind, “Just do what he tells you to. Please don’t make him mad.”

He sighed and turned to look at Asmoda.

“Now, call up your magic.”

Magello didn’t hold any hope, but did as his father bade. The smoke rose from his wrist and formed the bubble.

“Yes, good; now make the other one, but make the smoke stream the other way.

He looked at his father in disbelief.

“Go on, do it.” Asmoda encouraged.

He did and sent the second smoke trail away from the first, so that a good six inches stood between the two.

“That’s too far apart; bring them closer.”

“How?”

Try blowing on it dear; just a little bit.” His mother offered.

“try imagining the space between them decreasing.” Dyon’s words filled his mind.

“Just move them closer to each other.” His father said.

Magello waited and each of them offered their advice again. He did his best by trying each of the suggestions in turn. He blew on the smaller bubble slowly, taking squares of distance from between the two bubbles out as he did and willed them closer together.

His whole family stood behind him; trying not to breathe too hard, lest they influence what was going on. As the bubbles came closer and closer together, his parents’ and brother’s faces came more and more into his field of vision.

He felt his father’s breath in his ear before he made out the whisper, “Now ever so slowly descend it to the child.”

He heard his mother and brother nod their heads in agreement. Cold sweat ran down his back; he felt it pooling at the base of his spine. He realized that he was shaking; afraid to disappoint those he loved again; wanting for once to see pride in his father’s eyes.

“Go on.”

Asmoda’s voice; slightly louder brought him back to the now.

He took a breath to blow on the second bubble, but his concentration waived for just a second and too much space was displaced at one time. Magello realized what was happening, but could do nothing to stop it. The second bubble suddenly jerked and bounced off the first. He heard gasps and opened his eyes. As if to add to his misery, when the bubbles popped, it sounded like a crack that echoed throughout the huge dining room. He saw his family’s faces withdraw as each straightened and looked at him in pity.

“I told you not to move so quickly.” Asmoda chided, “Let’s try it again and this time…”

He couldn’t stand the way his father looked at him, “No” Magello stood so fast that the chair rocked backwards, “I’m not doing it again.” Magello turned to leave.

Asmoda met him at the door; he grasped the boys shoulder before he could dart out, “I told you to try again.”

“No father; I don’t want to try again. I can't do it; can't you see? Maybe I’m one of the those who can't…”

“Don’t you dare.” He cut him off before he could finish his sentence, his face a dark red; his eyes swirling red and black.

“No one in my family has ever been without.”

He looked at his father, “Yes, well maybe I’m the first.” He swiped a sleeve at his eyes to clear the tears and ran out of the room. He didn’t stop until he reached his room; slamming the door and darting under his bed.

“That lesson was stupid anyway.” He said out loud.

“But you said that about the last three lessons.”

“No, I got the last lesson.”

“That’s only because Dyon helped you. You couldn’t do it on your own.”

He put his forehead on his arm; hating his conscience for being right.

“Maybe you are one of the unlucky ones.”

He tried to sit up and bumped his head on the underside of the bed. He crawled out and sat up; leaning his head against the side of the mattress.

Could he do magic?

The question rolled around and around in his mind. He picked up his head and looked to his left. Seeing the candlestick, he leaned over and grasped it from the nightstand. Holding it between his hands, he willed the candle to life. He looked at the wick until he felt a headache begin from the effort.

He sighed and opened the first drawer of the nightstand, rummaging through it to find a match. He closed that one and opened the second and third; slamming them when they too came up empty.

Standing, he realized that he would have to venture out to find what he was looking for. He stuck the candle in his back pocket as he moved towards the door.

Slowly opening it a crack, he looked out. Seeing no one there, he slipped out and walked as quickly and as silently as he could down the hall and opened the library door. He entered and stopped short, seeing his father’s face glaring down at him.

“It’s just his picture.” He told himself and moved purposely past it to the mantle above the fireplace. He brought down a golden candlestick holder and a box of matches. He looked around and brightened when he saw the perfect place. Placing the candlestick and the matches on the couch, he jumped behind the couch and pushed it away from the wall. When he thought he had enough room, he stood, grabbed his posited items and disappeared again behind the couch.

With his back to the back of the couch, he braced his feet against the wall and pushed to give himself more room. Fitting the candle into the holder, he struck the match and touched it to the wick. It caught easily and he shook the match until it was extinguished.

Concentrating on the flame and calling up his magic, he brought the flame off the wick and made it hover just slightly above it. The flame began falling and when it hit his palm, it went out.

Magello reached for the matchbox, then stopped.

“I can do this.”

Moving the candlestick closer and folding his legs, he gathered his magic and willed the wick to life. Feeling the magic coursing from him to the wick, he jumped back when it sizzled and flamed to life.

“Yes!”

Wondering if this was just a fluke, he decided to test it.

He closed his eyes and brought his hand up; feeling the magic make the first bubble he opened his eyes just a slit to make sure that he had done it right; he closed them again when he saw the boy. The second bubble was a bit harder not being able to see it, but he sensed that it was there. Gathering the good thought, he gently pushed it to the boy, but felt the disappointment when he heard the pop.

“Ugh” he stood and clenched his fists, “there’s got to be an easier way to do this.”

Rowell’s voice came to his head, “the elders are gone.”

He pushed it away and sat down again; determined to find a way. Calling up the magic, he made the bubble and saw the child. Magello was about to form the second bubble, but then hesitated; afraid it would only end like it always had.

There had to be a way to enter the dream. The way he figured it, if he could enter the kid’s mind, then he could stop the dream. But how to enter the mind? He would have to think about it.

“And he just ran out of the dining room?”

Rowell kept in step with his king.

“Yes, how many times do I have to repeat myself. “  Asmoda closed the door and walked to the next room, “I shouldn’t have pressed him so hard.”

                Magello wasn’t in this room either.

                “Have no fear sire; he is a resilient boy.”

                Asmoda closed the door and walked to the next, “Yes, but you should have seen him; trying so hard not to cry in front of me.”  He glared at the teacher, “you know, it’s your fault; you should never have told me what they said. Strongest of all mages indeed; he’s just a little boy.”

                “A little boy that will rise to greatness one day. “ Rowell paused, looking around, “Did you check the library?"

                “No, let’s go there now.”

                The two turned and walked back the direction they came from.

                If he could send a good thought, why couldn’t he send himself? But how would he do that? Magello thought about the source; where all substance came from and from which his people got their magic. He thought about how he and Dyon communicate with each other; like they are in each other’s heads. What if he sent not only his thoughts, but his consciousness out; would it work? He had to try.

                He crossed his legs and got comfortable; calling up his magic and forming the first bubble. He saw someone hiding under a comforter. Next, he concentrated on the way he and Dyon communicated without words. He knew he could see his thoughts; every time he and Dyon communicated Magello swore he could see the thoughts leaving his head. If he sent the kid a telepathic message and followed the trail of thoughts would he end up in the child’s mind? He had to know, closing his eyes he began the thought transfer.

                When he opened his eyes, nothing looked familiar. The room was dark; he waited while his eyes adjusted.

                “W-who are you?”

                Magello turned to see a small girl; the blanket she hid in alternated from up over her head to down to her nose. He took several steps towards the bed.

                “My name is Magello; I’m the king’s son.” At the end of the bed he stopped.

                “What does the King’s son want with me?”

                They both jumped when they heard a sound of scratching at the door.

                “It’s coming!” the girl took hold of her pillow, put her head under it and pulled the cover over her.

                Magello waited, but when nothing more happened, he approached the side of the bed.

               

                Asmoda opened the library door and they entered. The room was dark except for a pinpoint of light visible on the opposite side of the room.

                “Someone must have left a candle on.” Rowell said.

                Asmoda shook his head, “Something about that doesn’t look right.”

                They looked at each other and then began to walk towards the light. As they neared it, Rowell’s steps slowed then stopped.

                “What’s wrong Sir Rowell?”

                “I think I know what that is.”

                Asmoda looked at him and waited.

                “Well?”

                In response Rowell quickened his steps; stopping well before the couch.

                He leaned forward and looked into the bubble, “I don’t believe it.”

                “What? What is it?”

                “Look” Rowell pointed to the scene in the bubble.

                Asmoda peered in, “What the... how the blazes did he get in there?”

                Rowell was smiling now, “How indeed.”

                It took several steps to walk around the bubble. Putting a knee on the couch, Rowell carefully leaned over and looked behind the couch. Asmoda followed suit and they both saw Magello; his right palm up; his head down on his upraised knees.

                “Magello?” Asmoda reached down to touch his son. Rowell stopped him.

                “Don’t touch him; he isn’t in his body.”

                Asmoda looked at the old teacher as if the man had lost his mind, “What do you mean he’s not in his body?”

                Rowell walked back to the bubble; Asmoda followed.

                “His consciousness is in there.” he pointed to the bubble.

                “Did you find him?”

                They both looked at the two coming near them. Islene came first, Dyon followed behind.

                “Yes” both Rowell and Asmoda answered at the same time.

                “Where is he” Dyon asked.

                They all looked at Rowell. He pointed to the bubble. Everyone took a step forward and looked in.

                Islene gasped, “He can't do that?” she looked at the teacher, “can he?”

                Rowell took a seat on the couch, smiling, “Apparently he can; and he is.”

                “But no one could do that; not even the elders.” Dyon sat next to his mother who was   seated next to Sir Rowell.

                Rowell looked at the boy who would be king one day, “Ah, but your brother can.”

                Their attention was drawn to what was happening in the bubble.

                “I think it’s okay, you can come out now.” Magello took hold of the blanket and tried to pull it off her head.

                “No” she pulled against him, covering what he had uncovered, “what if it comes back? It wants to eat me.”

                “No it doesn’t; it’s just a dream; it can’t hurt you.” he tried again, but she held it fast.

                Magello saw the candle in the candleholder on the dresser. Retrieving it, he sat at the side of the bed.

                “What’s your name?”

                The sound was small and muffled by the blanket and the pillow. Magello could barely make it out.

                “Kiera?” it was more a question than an answer

                “Well Kiera, do you want to see a trick?”

                “I hope he doesn’t try lighting the candle; I had to help him with that one.”

                Dyon saw three pairs of eyes look at him. Rowell scowled but didn’t say anything. Again they drew their attention back to the scene.

               

                “What kind of trick?” the blanket was now moving.

                “Well, how about if I light this candle.”

                A head appeared and then two green eyes; the blanket stopped.

                “Well, all you have to do is use matches.”

                “What if I can light it without using matches?” ‘at least I hope I can’ he added silently.

                The blanket fell further to reveal a snub nose and two cupid bow lips.

                “Only a magician can do that.” She looked at him wide eyed, “are you a magician?”

                “Let’s see”

                Magello concentrated on the candle.

                “Nothing’s happening.” Kiera said; now out of the blankets and getting closer to Magello.

                His concentration waivered, “Just wait”

                He gathered his magic once again and stared at the wick.

                “Come on Magello; you can do it.” Dyon said quietly.

                “Shh…let him concentrate.” Rowell answered.

                “Nothing”

                Just as she was about to complete the sentence, the wick sizzled and a bright yellow flame appeared.

                “Hey you did it.” Kiera said, leaning against Magello’s leg.

                “Now watch”

               The girl leaned closer to the flame and it jumped from the wick and hovered before her eyes. She giggled when the flame tickled her face then jumped to Magello’s open palm. She held up her hand and he placed the flame onto it.

                “It doesn’t burn at all.”

                The scratching sound was heard once more and Kiera hid her head under the blanket again. He replaced the flame onto the candle wick and put the candle on the nightstand. Placing a hand on the girl’s head he patted her.

                “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s not real. Look”

                He rose and approached the door, putting a hand on the doorknob.

                “No” she dove for the blankets again.

                “Kiera, it’s okay. I promise.”

                She uncovered her head and looked at him, “You sure?”

                “I’m positive.”

                He took hold of the door again, “What do you want to be behind here?”

                She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

                “Come on, what would you want to be behind here?”

                She thought about it, “A puppy dog”

                He was about to turn the knob, then stopped, “What color puppy dog?”

                Kiera brightened, “A Fluffy white puppy with a purple collar.”

                Magello concentrated, turned the handle and opened the door.

                Kiera couldn’t see when Magello bent to pick something up.

                “What is it Magello? You’re not getting eaten are you?” she sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed.

                Magello backed away from the door, “Nope, he won't eat you “ he turned and Kiera wiggled and smiled when she saw what he held, “but he might lick you to death.” He put the puppy on the bed and the little girl followed it to the head of the bed, where she lay down and hugged the puppy close.

                “See now” he pulled the covers up over the girl and the dog, “now you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

                “Thank you Magello.” She said yawning, “You’re a good magician.”

                He smiled, “Good night Kiera.”

                He followed his thoughts back to his body. The next thing he knew, he was being lifted from the back of the couch.

                “That’s my son.”

                He was hugged hard by his father and then put down. Magello saw his mother, his brother and his father all beaming down at him.

                Dyon took hold of his shoulder, “You did it Magello.”

                “No”

                They all turned to look at Sir Rowell.

                “What do you mean no?” Asmoda looked at the old teacher threateningly, “you saw it with your own eyes.”

                Rowell approached Magello, “I meant this is not Magello; a magician of his caliber needs a grown up name; from this day forward, you shall be known as Sebastian.”

                The teacher hugged the boy to him and when he let him go Sebastian saw the tears in his old teacher’s eyes.