by Simon Archer
“But then we discovered your world,” he continued. “And we had cause for hope again. We think that you can help us, Leo. We hope that you, unlike us, can still perform magic in our world.”
“Whoa,” I said. “I can’t do magic. I’m just… just a bartender. Besides, if music is supposed to create magic in your world, why didn’t anything happen when I played just now?”
“You are far from just a bartender, Leo,” the council leader said. “You make beautiful music. And your world doesn’t appreciate it, or you. We can offer you more here. We can offer you the chance to make your music as much and as long as you want, and perhaps even without your pain. And you won’t just be making music. You will be making magic.”
“As for why you performed no magic when you played your piece for us, we expected as much, though we hoped otherwise,” the woman who had spoken to him before said. “Our people did not create that piece of music. Our centuries’ worth of magical scrolls provide instructions for our spells, that were designed to perform specific tasks. These, we believe, will allow you to access the magic in our world through your music.”
“I can’t do magic,” I repeated. “I’m sorry, this all just doesn’t make any sense to me. What are you people, anyway?”
“We call ourselves elves,” the man said. “We are similar in form to humans, though I’m sure you’ve noticed some differences.” He gestured to his pointed ears. “We are one of three kinds of elves in this world. We are called kingdom elves because we live in this great city. But Leo, please, just agree to look at one of our scrolls. Then you may go home if you so choose.”
“Alright,” I said, warily, but a flicker of excitement sparked within me at the prospect of doing magic. I was even more excited at the idea of being able to play as much as I wanted without having to worry about making money or being in pain.
The elf woman climbed down from her seat and came to face me. She smiled at me, her demeanor warm and inviting. From her flowing golden robes, she pulled a scroll of old paper and offered it to me to inspect. I did so, and as I’d feared, it was just a jumble of characters I couldn’t understand.
“I don’t know your language,” I said. “I can’t read this.”
The woman took the scroll back from me and began to translate the text. It was a description of what the spell was supposed to do. Apparently, this spell was meant for cleaning. I was a bit disappointed. I was hoping for something more exciting than that, though I supposed they might want to keep it simple in case I could do magic, and the spell got away from me.
“Now, look at this part,” the woman said, gesturing below the block of words I didn’t recognize or understand. “This is the spell.”
I looked where she was pointing and shook my head. “I’m sorry, this doesn’t make sense. I’m not who you’re looking for…” My voice trailed off as I looked harder at the scroll, squinting. I reached out and took it from the woman, holding it up close to my face.
“Wait,” I said after a while. “This is a staff!” And so it was. It wasn’t exactly like the ones I was used to, but there were lines running across the paper like a musical staff, and notations that could be musical notes.
Not thinking, I sat down on the floor and studied the paper for a while, internalizing the different notation style. After a while, I got the hang of it. I understood intuitively what the notations were supposed to mean, and what I was supposed to do to follow them.
I tried to hum the notes, but it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t quite in the right key. I tried again and again, as the council and Nadeine watched intently. None of them made a sound, not wanting to break my concentration.
On the third try, I got it. I could just feel it was right somehow, as if the notes were in harmony with myself and the world around me. As I sang, flashes of golden light started to appear, bouncing off the walls and around the council members’ heads. They watched in fascination, and so did I.
After I’d finished the song once, I got the hang of the tune. I shut my eyes like I did when I played the cello. I felt more connected to the music then, and when I opened my eyes at the end, I found that I had made full streams of light this time. They darted all around the room and twirled together.
After the lights settled down, I noticed that the room was a helluva lot shinier than it had been before. Everyone in the room clapped just as enthusiastically as Nadeine had when I had finished my performance back on Earth. I beamed at them. It turned out I could do magic after all.
2
After my impromptu light show, the head of the council said, “Well, Leo, congratulations. Well done.” The guy was glowing. “Now, is there any way that we can convince you to stay here in our realm and help us?”
I only hesitated for a few seconds. There was nothing left for me back in my world. I had been kidding myself about getting a job with an orchestra. No paying orchestra would take on a ticking time bomb like me. Plus, who didn’t dream of saving a fantasy world when they were a kid? I’d be an idiot to pass up that opportunity.
“Sure thing,” I said. Everyone in the circle smiled brightly.
“Well then,” the man in the center continued. “Welcome to our kingdom. I am Dalibor. My friend here is Magdalina.” He gestured at the woman who had spoken to me. She smiled. “Nadeine will provide you with further instructions.”
As we left the council chambers, I asked, “What about my family?”
“You will be able to go back to see your family,” Nadeine assured me. “But not right away, and you cannot tell them anything about our world or what you are doing here.”
I nodded. It’s not as if they’d believe a word of it. I’d have to make something up to explain why I went off the grid. I’d checked my phone, and it hadn’t worked since I’d stepped through the portal to Eviorah. But for now, I wanted to forget about Earth and immerse myself in the world before me and explore my newfound abilities.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To the library. We will work on your abilities there,” she said, determination in her voice.
“Have you ever done this before?” I asked as we walked, and I lugged my cello behind me.
“No,” she said. “You’re the first one to do magic in our world in centuries. All I can do is help you decipher the texts, and I only have a vague idea of what it’s supposed to be like.”
“Centuries? The woman in there said that they had magic when she was a kid.” I said, remembering the meeting.
“Elves have a much longer lifespan than your race,” she said as though that was obvious. “If fact, I’m nearly two-hundred years old.” She smirked as my eyes bugged out. “And I’m only about a quarter of the way through my life. I’m very young compared to many.”
I gaped. That was older than any human ever, as far as I knew. Although after what I’d experienced that day, I was convinced I didn’t know much.
“You find me ancient,” Nadeine said simply.
“No,” I caught myself. “I mean, I guess, yeah. I don’t know.”
“It is alright.” She shrugged. “To you, I suppose that is an accurate assessment.”
I searched for a new topic. “The council said there are other kinds of elves here. Can they do magic?”
“No.” Nadeine pursed her lips. “They are a story for another time.”
I took that as final. When we arrived at the library, I was unsurprised to find rows of shelves filled with scrolls. More unexpected were the bubbles surrounding them, and the large open circular spaces between them.
“What are these for?” I asked, gesturing to the bubbles.
“To protect the scrolls,” she said.
“You think someone’s going to steal them?” I looked back at the locked doors behind us.
“Not from theft. This castle is impenetrable,” she said. “From the magic.”
“Oh,” I said as if I understood. “And these are…?” I pointed to the circles.
“For practicing,” she said.
“Ah,” I said, understanding dawning on me. “So wizards practice their magic here with the scrolls, and the bubbles are keeping them from being damaged?”
“Yes, though we are not wizards, we’re mages.”
“What’s the difference?” I asked. She didn’t answer. I grinned. “And it’s not like you’re mages anyway, that would be me.”
“We are mages. We just don’t have our magic right now.” She glared daggers at me, and I wiped the grin off my face.
“Okay, okay, sorry.” I felt my face flush a little and turned to hide it.
Nadeine walked down several yards and pulled a scroll off of one of the shelves.
“Here,” she said, handing it to me.
I took it and unrolled it. Just like I had in the council chambers, I sat down in the middle of one of the circles and studied the scroll for a minute.
“Can you read me what it says,” I asked, gesturing to the text at the top.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s a healing spell for minor wounds.” Before I could stop her, she pulled a dagger out of the back of her ridiculous outfit and sliced her finger open.
“Wha… why would you do that?” I exclaimed, standing up.
“It’s fine, you will heal me,” she said, but I noticed her wince.
“Should I take out my cello?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “Your instruments are not necessary for our magic.”
I felt myself deflate. I wanted to play my cello, and had hoped… no, I had been promised… that being here and helping these people would be a way for me to do that.
Nadeine seemed to notice the change in me. “One will appear for you in time. Each mage’s magic transmits itself differently. For some, what you call ‘instruments’ do appear. For others, they prefer to continue to use their voice as you have done.”
I sat back down and turned back to the scroll, sending her the occasional wary look. I wasn’t sure what to make of this girl.
I had to wrap my brain around the elves’ different notation system again. Eventually, I figured I would get used to it, and it would come as naturally to me as the system I was used to, but for now, I had to translate everything in my head first, then test it out, and then memorize it. Luckily, this spell was short and repetitive, like the one I had performed in the council chambers.
After I got the hang of the rhythm and notes, I started to hum. The golden lights appeared quicker and fuller this time, zipping around the room.
“You’re getting better already,” Nadeine said, excitement in her voice.
I memorized the tune quickly enough, and several tendrils of the same golden light I had made earlier appeared, intertwined together, and wrapped themselves around Nadeine’s outstretched hand. When they melted away, the cut was gone.
“This is already a second-level spell,” she said, clearly excited. “You’re advancing much more quickly than we anticipated.”
“They’re just simple tunes. Both of the ones I’ve seen so far are just variations of scales.” I shrugged.
“What does that mean?” she asked, confused.
“Just that it’s the same series of ascending or descending notes rearranged in the same way over and over again,” I said simply.
Nadeine nodded but looked like she didn’t fully understand. I had to remind myself that these people knew almost nothing about music. I demonstrated a scale for her, hummed the spell again, and she seemed to grasp the concept better.
“Are all the spells this simple?” I asked.
“How do you mean?” she asked, sounding confused. “Neither are considered simple spells.”
“I mean, both of the ones I’ve seen are very repetitive. They’re the same tune over and over, with the same rhythm. But somehow they both still sounded complete, not annoying like some songs or etudes like that.”
“All spells must have symmetry,” Nadeine said as if that answered all of my questions.
“You mean they have to be easy to remember?” I asked.
“I suppose that may be a consequence of the symmetry,” she said. “But magic must always mirror itself. Otherwise, it would not be magic.”
“Okay then,” I said. I supposed that explained why the spells were both just variations on scales. Scales, after all, were just notes in a sequence until they repeat themselves.
We practiced for another few hours before Nadeine called it a day. I learned several more spells just as quickly as I’d learned the other ones. Then a woman dressed in plain white garments came and took me up to the north tower where I found a plush, warm bed and a spacious room draped with gold like the council chambers. The bedframe and furniture were ornate, covered in swirling designs etched into the metal and wood. On the right-hand wall was a huge window overlooking the city.
“Is this to your liking? We can find you a bigger room if you would prefer,” the woman asked.
“No, this is amazing,” I said, thinking of my small corner of the dingy Queens apartment I’d shared with four other guys.
The woman smiled with obvious relief. “If you need anything else, be sure and ring the servant’s quarters downstairs. We’ll be happy to get you anything you need.”
“Sounds good,” I said as I looked around. At first, I thought she meant by phone and looked around for one, but then I realized there was a literal bell hanging on the wall with a tube running down into the floor, presumably to the servants’ quarters.
“I’m serious.” She met my eyes. “If you need anything, please ring us.” Then she turned and left.
“Man, this place is nothing like home,” I murmured as I sank into the plush bed. “I could get used to this.”
After lounging for a few minutes, I placed my cello under the bed as I did at home, for safekeeping, and climbed into bed to sleep for a few hours. Thankfully, the cycle of day and night in Eviorah seemed to correspond with the Eastern Standard Time zone in New York.
When I woke in the morning, I saw that trays of eggs, bacon, bread, butter, juice, pancakes, and pretty much everything else I could imagine had been left at the foot of my bed.
“Damn,” I said as I dug into it. The food tasted amazing. The meat was crackling hot and covered in grease, and the rest was slathered in butter and cheese. I ate until I was completely full for the first time since I took the bartending job after college.
I’d just finished eating when I heard an incessant knocking on my door.
“Are you up, Leo?” Nadeine called through the door. “It is time for you to practice, and it is getting to be pretty late in the day.”
“Right, I’ll be right there,” I said as I got to my feet and brushed the crumbs off my lap. My bar schedule had accustomed me to sleeping late, and I made a mental note to try to correct that if the elves were expecting me to keep to a normal schedule.
I padded across the room and opened the door to find Nadeine standing there. She was dressed in heavy silver armor with gold trim.
“Let’s go,” she said, taking my hand and practically dragging me downstairs to the library. Her hand was calloused but still had a tender quality to it. “I want you to try to work on a couple of more complicated spells.” She gestured at the food that was waiting for us when we got there. “Are you ready?”
“I’m not hungry anymore, Nadeine,” I groaned, rubbing my stomach. “I actually just had breakfast.”
“It’s not for eating,” she said simply. “It’s for cooking.”
“Cooking?” I asked, looking around the room. I didn’t see a stove or anything. “What are we cooking with?”
“Magic,” she explained. “We are working on a basic cooking spell. It’s more advanced than the ones you did yesterday.”
“Cool,” I said as she went to pull another scroll off the shelves. “I’ve always wanted to be a magical chef.”
“Well, here’s your chance,” she said, offering me the scroll. “This spell is somewhat complex for a cooking spell,” she paused a beat, “I think you can handle i
t, though.”
“What makes it more complex than normal?” I asked as I took the scroll.
“Because instead of simply cooking something, I want you to make a pie.” She smiled at me. “An apple pie to be exact.”
“I am fond of pie,” I said as I turned my attention to the scroll and got to work. I memorized the new spell even more quickly this time... it was really just an A major scale with two variations... and began to hum.
Thin streams of golden light appeared and wrapped themselves around the various ingredients all at the same time, causing them to rise into the air. Then, the lights started twirling around, kind of like a tornado. If a tornado was, you know, made of golden light and was indoors.
The ingredients disappeared into the golden funnel. I could kind of see the edges of them poking out sometimes, and I could hear a kind of whirring noise coming from the inside. The funnel gradually slowed down, and the lights melted away, revealing the completed pie as it settled onto the ground.
“You did that so quickly,” Nadeine said. The pie’s aroma wafted upwards, and even though I’d just eaten only a few minutes ago, my appetite was starting to come back. In fact, I felt downright ravenous.
“So, do we get to try it?” I gestured at the pie. “Because it smells great.”
“I thought you were not hungry.” She quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Well, that was before I made a pie,” I said as my stomach rumbled audibly. “You don’t understand, that’s a huge accomplishment for me. I don’t really cook. Well, other than cereal and the occasional hot dog.”
“You eat your pets?” She raised a concerned eyebrow at me.
“No, that’s not what a hotdog is...,” I said as I moved toward the pie and cut us each a large slice, the contents of the pie spilling over the side in a delicious ooze. “I’ll explain it while we eat.”
“Okay...” she said as she begrudgingly sat down and dug in with me while I explained what hot dogs were. It was an apple pie, and its crust was delightfully flaky. If I stayed here, I’d have to start watching my waistline, though since my body was burning like after a good workout, I got the distinct impression that doing magic burned a ton of calories.
