"What stranger?"
"He arrived this morning, dirty and grungy from the road. Showed up at the gates as soon as they opened. I've heard that he was waiting there. He asked to see Demetri immediately, and they've been locked up in the elder's house since then. No one's seen this stranger or Demetri, for that matter. Now there are all kinds of rumors flying around. The biggest one is that he's a Magus."
She said it with such little reverence that Connor took a moment to process what she had said. "A Magus! Really?"
"That's what some are saying, yes." She smiled at her son's new exuberance.
"Why? What's he doing here? I've never seen a Magus before. When's the last time one came here?"
"Slow down, child. No one knows if that's even what he is."
"But, why would anyone say that if they didn't know?"
"People like to hope. And your friend Nicolai's mother is the main source. Though not everyone’s as hopeful. Particularly Daeda. I swear, that man wouldn’t be satisfied if the Aspects themselves appeared and granted his greatest wish. He’d just question them endlessly. Unfortunately, he’s got a few others wound up about this stranger too. Worried he might upset our precious balance. Fool!" She finished the last under her breath.
"Oh." Nico's mother had a tendency to overstate things, often leading to misunderstandings amongst the small population of Custos. Daeda, on the other hand, often argued against the majority in their small town. Connor had heard many of his mother’s friends joke that Daeda often argued simply for the sake of arguing
"But the new arrival is supposed to speak tonight at the gathering. So, we might get two stories," his mother interjected into his thoughts. Seeing his discomfort at the prospect of his story being told, she winked at Connor.
"A Magus..." Connor did not notice his mother's teasing. His thoughts now drifted to the old legends of the Magi. He did not think that a Magus had been in Custos for generations, at least since his grandfather's time. There were many people who did not believe that the old magicians even existed any longer. But, if one was really here...the implications were many. Connor continued to drift along in his own world as he stood and walked back toward his room. One again, his mother's voice intruded on his thoughts.
"If you're going to be back home now, I promised to help Morgan's mother with her baking as soon as I was done here. You can come help. We could use a big, strapping lad such as yourself."
Connor snapped out of his daydream, groaning.
"You've got an hour..."
Connor disappeared into his small room.
Connor stepped out of the house, excitedly making his way toward the small amphitheater at the center of Custos. Small fire pits lit the street in front of the houses lining the path to the amphitheater, marking the way to the gathering. Connor’s anxiety from earlier and his fear of his story being told were now forgotten. The rumors had built through the day, and it was now a forgone conclusion that a Magus was going to reveal himself tonight and call upon the service of the Phoenix Clan. Or so the rumors would have tell, especially among the young crowd.
The rest of the town was also making their way to the amphitheater, and Connor saw Tristan as he came closer. The taller young man could barely hold in his own excitement. Seeing Connor, he ran to meet his friend.
"This is going to be great! I can't believe it, a Magus! Can you believe it?"
"I know!" Connor responded in kind.
"I'm sorry I don't get to tell your story."
"It's alright." Some of Connor's anxiety returned at the mention of the day’s earlier events. Hopefully Tristan would not find a way to tell his exaggerated story outside of the meeting, either. "It's not nearly as fantastic as this."
He smiled up at his friend. Connor knew how proud of the story Tristan had become. But Connor was relieved that something else had happened to overshadow his own actions. He wanted to forget anything strange had even occurred. Tristan returned the smile, and the two walked toward the center of town together.
The amphitheater was lit with torches that lined the upper level and surrounded the center talking stone. There was also a large fire burning in a clay pot near the center of the platform. Connor and Tristan filed in with the rest of Custos and found a place near the middle of the crowd.
Demetri, the clan elder, stood on the talking stone, waiting for the people of Custos to fill in. His gray hair was cut short, revealing thick eyebrows and dark eyes. He watched his people with a deep intensity. Connor had not had much interaction with the clan elder, but he knew he was a fierce presence, and few of the young people Connor's age wished to cross paths with him, especially after making a mistake. His lectures had developed a legendary reputation, not only for their intensity but also their length.
Behind Demetri sat a heavily robed figure. His head was lowered, and the hood of his robe was pulled up so Connor could not see his face, but the robes looked as his mother had described them, covered with dust and dirt. It seemed odd. If he was a Magus, would Demetri not have offered him more fitting clothing? Or at least helped him clean the clothes he had? The other odd addition to the talking stone was a large pile of sand or dirt or some kind next to the fire pot. It sat there for no apparent purpose. Connor tapped Tristan on the shoulder, bringing the young man's attention away from Agathe, the pretty daughter of Sofia that Tristan had been wooing, who was making her way down to the front of the amphitheater.
"What do you think that's for?" asked Connor, pointing to the strange pile.
Tristan shrugged. "No idea. Maybe he'll make it dance."
Connor gave a short chuckle, but his curiosity about the pile's purpose hadn’t been satisfied. He then saw Cyrus enter the theatre, standing tall next to his bear of a father. They walked down and took a seat near Agathe and her mother at the front of the crowd, befitting their status. He looked around for some of the other boys, but could not see any of them before Demetri's voice rang out, silencing the gathered people.
"Good evening, Custos."
"Hail, elder!" the crowd returned customarily.
"I will not waste too much time with pleasantries." Connor and Tristan shared an amused look. "As many of you know, a stranger arrived in Custos just this morning. He has come with an important message. And he comes as one of the Magi!"
That brought an immediate reaction from the crowd. Many turned to their neighbors, nodding in shared confidence, their guesses given validation. Others gasped in shock. And then there was Daeda.
"A Magus? Why does a Magus come now? We thought they were all dead." The older man's voice rang out through the amphitheater. He sat a few rows behind Connor and Tristan, and the two boys could hear some of those seated around Daeda urging him to silence.
Demetri turned to face Daeda. "You question an honored guest?"
"I question his motives. If he is a Magus, why has he returned after all this time? Where have they all gone?"
"Those are not questions that he needs to answer," Demetri argued. "He is a Magus, and we are the Phoenix Clan. We have served the will of the Magi since time immemorial."
"But few, if any, of us have even seen a Magus. What's to say he is even what he claims to be?"
There were murmurs of agreement through some of the crowd. Demetri waited for the murmurs to pass. As he paused, the figure sitting behind him, who had been still the entire time, finally stood and moved behind the elder. A calm hand reached out, gently touching the elder on the shoulder. Demetri turned to the robed figure and a whisper passed between them. Demetri bowed and moved out of the way, giving the stone to the figure.
The crowd fell silent once again, even Daeda. The figure raised his hands up and pulled the hood from his face. The fire reflected in his black hair. Streaks of gray were scattered throughout, and it hung down, knotted and twisted at the ends in an odd fashion. Heavy eyes looked up into the crowd, immediately finding Daeda.
"You have a right to question my purpose, friend. I will not deny you that. But if you will permi
t me, I came to tell a tale tonight, here at your gathering." His voice was calm, but it carried a sense of power that Demetri could never quite convey. This was a man accustomed to being listened to, or so confident in his words that it did not matter. "I believe my tale may shed some light on my purpose here."
He bowed his head to the gathered crowd, waiting patiently for a response. For a moment there was no sound, only an awkward silence. Then Daeda finally spoke up.
"Tell your story. But I...we reserve judgment, stranger."
Connor could see the embarrassment on Demetri's face. But the robed figure simply nodded to Daeda. "As is your right, friend."
He turned, motioning for Demetri to take a seat. The elder looked between the figure and Daeda, choosing to hold back his response and be seated.
The stranger moved around to the odd pile next to the firepot. He studied the pile for a moment, reaching out and grabbing a handful of the substance. As he let it pass through his fingers, Connor could see that it was a fine sand, flowing through the stranger's hand as he let it fall back down. Nodding in approval, the robed figure moved forward, and he slid into a sitting position in front of the firepot and the pile of sand. He closed his eyes and took three deep, even breaths. The crowd watched in an anxious silence.
"My tale begins a very long time ago. Longer even than the memories of your own people, back to the time your people were not the only clan. Back when there were three clans, and those clans served the Magi."
His voice carried through the amphitheater, but it was not loud. Everyone could hear it just as if he were sitting near them, telling his story to just them. As he began to speak, the pile of sand behind him started to move. Connor did not think he felt any wind in the air.
"Nearly two thousand years ago, there existed a kingdom. A kingdom that believed in not only the elements of the world, but the Three Aspects. And in this kingdom, there was a balance."
Now there was definitely movement. The sand spread out, flattening on the stone. Then, impossibly, it leapt off the stone into the air over the stranger's head. The crowd gasped in unison. A couple people let out brief screams. Then the sand coalesced above the stranger's head, forming into the image of a large castle.
"The three clans, your ancient brethren, helped preserve that balance."
The sand danced again, this time forming into small images of people. Large groups of people. Three groups. Above each group a symbol coalesced. The center image everyone recognized. It was the ancient symbol of their clan, a phoenix rising from the ground, wings stretched toward the sky. The other two, however, they did not recognize. One looked like a large snake, and the other was some odd beast with wings like their own phoenix, but the head of a person and the body of a lion.
"Phoenix, Dragon, and Sphinx. They were the guardians of the Magi, as well as the protectors of the royal family who ruled over this mighty kingdom. But, in time, all things come to an end. The balance that had been preserved for so long began to falter. The clans took sides, and a terrible war was waged."
Now the groups of sand people began to run toward one another; small weapons could be seen in their hands. They crashed into each other like waves in the ocean, cutting through each group until there was nothing left. The sand swirled eerily.
"Then, a final ray of hope. The Magusari was born. The one who could right the imbalance, put the world back on its path."
The sand formed together into the image of a woman, a woman with a crescent moon floating above her head.
"And at her side stood the Warden."
Another woman appeared next to the first. This one holding a sword in her hand.
"Together they tried to put the world back together. And they nearly succeeded."
The sand took on the form of the castle again. The images of the two women clambered toward it, followed by smaller figures with the symbols of the clans hanging above them.
"But, the Chaos was too much. And the Magusari and the Warden failed, plunging the world into a fractured shadow of what it once had been."
The castle image and people shattered, scattering out over the wide-eyed people of Custos.
"The clans gave up their sacred oaths. The Magi became a feared people. Only one group held to their ancient promise. A small group of men and women who had been given an impossible task by the last Magusari. To wait, to prepare, and to seek out the new Magusari in order to help return the world to what it once was."
The sand regrouped over the stranger's head. Once again it coalesced into a familiar image, the rising phoenix.
"The Phoenix Clan, what was left of it, has held to its promise. For two thousand years, you have waited. And now, the time has come."
The sand dropped back to the stone behind the stranger, and he pushed himself off the ground slowly. Once on his feet, he pulled his shoulders back, addressing the clan formally.
"I am Icarus, the Magus. And I've come to invoke that ancient promise."
The amphitheater was silent. No one seemed sure how to respond or what to do next. What they had just witnessed seemed impossible, though it was clearly intended to be an example of the Magus's power. Connor sat dumbfounded, thoughts of his strange experience completely absent. He turned to Tristan, who was staring at the stage with the same look that seemed to be on everyone's face. The Magus, Icarus, moved back to the bench where Demetri sat. Demetri stared up at Icarus with the same look. Icarus ignored it, nodding his head to Demetri and sitting down on the bench heavily, as though he were incredibly exhausted.
Demetri climbed to his feet, trying to regain some semblance of his composure. He walked forward, ready to address the gathering.
"We..." He stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. "We have seen proof of the Magus's power. Are there any who still question his word?"
The only response he received was continued silence, even from Daeda.
"Very well. The Magus has proposed a request. He has called on our ancient promise and the honor of our clan. Are there any who deny him that right?"
Again, silence.
Demetri nodded; he then turned toward Icarus. "What do you need from us, Magus?"
Icarus snapped his head up, as though being pulled from a daydream.
"I...I only ask that I be allowed to speak to your people, individually. Once I have done that, I will be better able to make a decision."
"Very good, Magus." He turned back to the gathering. "If any object to that request, speak now..."
There was a slight murmur now, but no outright objections.
"Then I will conclude tonight's gathering. Forever the Phoenix."
"Rise," came the refrain.
Connor and Tristan stood with the rest of the crowd and made their way out of the amphitheater.
"What do you think his request will be? Do you think we're going to war or something?" asked Tristan.
Connor shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think anybody knows."
"Aye, some help we're going to be."
They moved through the crowd slowly, picking up snippets of conversations similar to their own. The two boys saw Nico standing with his parents. Spotting them, he sprinted over, a wide smile on his face as was the case for most of the younger generation.
"By the aspects! That was incredible. That was magic! I've never seen anything like that!" The words came tumbling out.
"Nobody has, Nico," said Tristan, trying to adopt an air of superiority when Connor knew he was just as excited as Nico.
"Well, I know that, but...I just thought..."
Tristan finally smiled. Nico saw the smile, anger crossing his face briefly, and he punched Tristan's arm.
"High and mighty Tristan." Nico laughed. "So, what do you think the Magus wants?"
"We don't know. Any ideas?" asked Tristan.
"Nope. Doesn't sound like anyone knows. We should find Cyrus. I bet he might know. His family always knows those things."
The three boys moved off through the crowd, looking for their friend. The cr
owd slowly began to dissipate as families returned to their homes, likely to discuss the night's events. As the crowd thinned, the three of them saw Cyrus standing with his father talking to Agathe and her parents. A few of the other wealthier families stood with them. They seemed to be in a heated debate.
"We have no reason to acquiesce to this stranger's requests," one of the men was saying. "He shows up out of nowhere and just expects us to follow along. It's beyond arrogant."
"He's a Magus, and we are the Phoenix Clan. You know our history, Hadrian. This is what we've been preparing each new generation for. The call of the Magi!" Cyrus's father, Cormac, snapped back.
Cyrus saw the three of them approaching and came toward them.
"We thought you might know what's going on," said Tristan as Cyrus reached them.
"Only what father thinks," he answered.
"Which is?" asked Nico.
"That the Magus is here to find the next Warden."
"What's a Warden? I'd never heard that word until tonight," said Connor.
"Apparently it's what we've all been preparing for. The Warden is supposed to be the leader of the clan...or clans, I guess."
"Why haven't we ever heard of it before?" pressed Nico.
"There's hasn't been one for two thousand years. Father has some old books that talk about the old clans. But I always thought they were just stories. I didn't think any of it was true." Cyrus looked back at his father, a look of almost shame crossing his features.
"Well, I guess they're more real than anyone thought. And now we've got a Magus. It's crazy. I can't believe it's really happening," said Tristan.
"It kind of puts your story out of mind, doesn't it, Connor?" Cyrus said.
"I guess."
"Cyrus!" Cormac's deep voice bellowed. "Time to go, son."
The debate Cormac and the other families had been having appeared to be over now, as they were all moving back toward their respective homes.
"Yes, Father," Cyrus answered, twitching his head quickly toward the other boys and then turning and following after his father.
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