The Magical Book of Wands

by Raven M. Williams

  "What happened?" Dillard asked. "I stored all that food."

  "Well that's the thing, Dillard," Jarvis said. "You pulled them into your wand, but they became components—ingredients for future use. You must conjure them back. It's much easier to store than to restore. And it takes practice and energy."

  Dillard walked over to a couch and laid back. "I have no energy left. I need a rest and at least regain my own energy."

  Chapter 13

  Dillard woke from his dreamless sleep rested but not renewed. He did, however, emit a feeling I was growing familiar with, but it was altered and stronger. The defeat led to a giving up.

  I remained silent, not wanting to aggravate his mood, but I sent reassuring thoughts.

  As he worked through his morning ablutions, Dillard blocked me out so I wouldn't be a party to his more private of rituals. Like I hadn't seen a wizard's winky before.

  "You can block out your senses but not your mind, Dillard."

  "Sparkle, I just am not cast of the same metal as those deserving such gifts. I don't have what it takes."

  Dillard was talking himself out of the glory and wonder of our bond, and I could feel him slipping away.

  "Oh no you don't," I told him. "I am not going back into storage, or—Odin forbid—end up in the meaty-mitts of Gretchen."

  "You could wait in the shop for a better pairing," Dillard offered.

  "Oh sure, have you any idea what it's like to be surrounded by half-witted wands of watered-down lineage for chat buddies? No thank you."

  "Well, I can't keep hearing and witnessing everyone's triumphs over my inadequacies. They could move mountains before I could even place a decent breakfast on that table." Dillard swung his hand around and pointed at the table. A jolt rushed out of me and then spread from Dillard's hand before hitting the surface.

  Piled up on the table—fully cooked and ready to eat—was a feast fit to break the fast of royalty. Eggs were prepared to perfection: scrambled, poached, over-easy, boiled. Toast and jam, sliced cheeses and baked potatoes along with crisp bacon strips and sausages spilled over platters. Dillard conjured breakfast.

  Jarvis entered the room. "Something smells scrumptious." He looked at the table and rubbed his hands while licking his lips. "How thoughtful of you to order us in some food, Dillard. I do confess it might be a bit much for just the two of us."

  "It was not my intention when I inadvertently conjured this feast," Dillard admitted. "But I won't complain." Dillard joined Jarvis in consuming the delightful dishes.

  Over the course of the meal, Jarvis spoke through mouthfuls of foodstuffs asking how Dillard conjured the meal.

  Dillard explained the feeling of need for food mixed with his desire to get things right with conjuring.

  "You see that is the crux of it, my good fellow. Need mixing with desire brings forth what is required. You didn't force it, you let it happen."

  "I don't know..." Dillard started. "I just can't get through life as a mage by circumstance and accident."

  "You can't give up Dillard," Jarvis said as I thought the same thing. "There is more at stake here. Do you think things just happen by accident? No, in case you think of arguing. Everything happens by some greater design. Now that isn't to say we cause our own diversions along the way, we are not perfect creatures and mistakes are made. We stumble and fall as we learn to walk through life, but a destiny has been laid out before us all. Though we may stray from time to time, we can correct our course and get back on the right path to our destination."

  "You are speaking of a divine design, Jarvis," Dillard said. "I don't believe in a single omnipotent being or even multitudes of Gods guiding our way."

  "You need not believe in any God to follow or have faith. A path need not be preordained when a greater existence than we understand has laid it out before us. Just follow along and let your heart lead the way."

  "How can I go with my heart when my head says to just give in and let Gretchen have Sparkle?"

  "I'd sooner crack my own core than work with that ogre of a woman," I said through Dillard. "No offense intended Jarvis."

  Jarvis was stunned at first—hearing the voice of a wand through it's bond-mate—but knew the extent of the link growing between Dillard and me. "No offense taken Sparkle. She can be a bit of a beast, my Gretchen."

  Chapter 14

  Dillard left the feast feeling emptier than his belly belied. He turned to clear away the leftover foods, using me. Dillard reabsorbed the organics into components, storing them in my core. At the time, he did so instinctively. He was unaware of the link between us doing as it should, allowing us to work as one.

  Dillard sat in silence, though his mind shouted in concert with my own thoughts. His doubt and worry, his inadequacies and fears, all consolidating into one decision, forfeit.

  "You can't deny this Dillard," I told him. "We are already bound, and not giving up to Gretchen and her perverted need. We are paired because of who we are and the link we have dating back to my creation."

  "What are you talking about, Sparkle. We've only just met, and I am only in my middle age."

  It was the time I filled Dillard in on more of my history as well as his own.

  When I said I was old—even ancient—I was understating my origin. I was not only the first sentient wand but the first wand full stop. Of course, early mages used sticks as focal points in spells and some water witches began enchanting branches for divining water and the like. But the crafting of a wand—carving a form—as an instrument of magic was never done before my creation.

  My maker was the most potent and learned magician among the first mages to be granted power from the universe. He was responsible for much—if not most—of what modern wizardry and witchcraft are based. Though many think to this day he was a wizard, he was a Druid. He was Merlin.

  "Merlin? The Merlin? The same wizard of Arthurian legend?

  "Yes Dillard," I said. "Now don't interrupt."

  When Merlin created me, he did so out of a desperate need for an instrument of magic that embodied power and was a protector against evil. Being a sacred tree, The Rowan was a natural choice.

  "It also helped that Rowan was the favored home of fairies back then," I told Dillard. "From the fact, Rowan could grow nearly anywhere to the properties gained from our fairy guests, and the myth that even an ancient god took the form of a Rowan, Merlin made his choice. He believed the very Rowan I was carved from was the goddess Rauni."

  "So you are the wand of a god? Or a God of Wands?"

  "Don't be ridiculous, I was created by man. I don't pretend to know the true origin of the Rowan myths, but I can attest to my own. I am the first wand created with sentience—alive. I have carried the combined knowledge and experience of every bond-mate since Merlin. He was my only full bond in spirit, mind—and only a genetic link to him explains where the two of us are today."

  While Dillard retold my story, Jarvis stopped taking notes to interrupt. "I can see your deduction of Dillard's lineage. It does make sense, but some of your account doesn't seem logical."

  "How so?" Dillard asked.

  "Well, most accounts of Merlin said he carried a staff and was a mere wizard."

  "She said she can be whatever form is desired by her bond-mate if the will of change is there. Merlin altered her from wand to staff to amulet back to wand again. No mere wizard could achieve the creation of a sentient wand. He was indeed a Druid. He was a creator of magic, not simply a user. He made me into whatever he needed."

  "Merlin's beard!" Jarvis said

  "I was never a beard," I insisted.

  Chapter 15

  Dillard woke the next day, with a head swimming with information overload. His forefront thought was the implications of who I was. He felt of me like royalty—the high-queen of wands. His feelings of lacking merit before my sharing of history was bad enough, now he burned with a fire of unworthiness.

  "You make me feel what you call embarrassed with your talk of wand royalty, Dil
lard. You can cut that crap now." Though, I secretly felt a bit shinier. "I'm just a wand and you but a man. Only together are we a force to be reckoned with."

  "I'll try to remember that during this afternoon's tests." There was little confidence in his voice. Dillard was a walking billboard of defeat.

  After a morning filled with silent contemplation and self-recriminations, Dillard prepared for his practical examinations taking place that afternoon. Breakfast, washing, dressing, walking out the door, all this was done in an automatic state born of repetition. I tried to tell him his magic would come just as quickly with time and practice. Dillard would not heed my words.

  Matters were not improved when we entered the presentation hall. Prudessa stood just inside, seemingly waiting for our arrival.

  "Hello Bane," I said. "Ready to concede?"

  "Hardly, you tired old stick. Your bond-mate—the dullard—has mine all worked into a tizzy. Normally I'd have no time to waste on such girlishness, but I find I share her distaste for your mage."

  "Still sexist I see," I said. "Well then, our challenge stands. My 'mage,' Dillard, is more than he appears and you shall soon witness a taste of what's to come."

  Bane just laughed at me, but I held further comment. I looked forward to the change in his tone when he discovered how wrong he'd been. Prudessa as well showed she had little humility or breeding.

  "You really are a glutton, showing up to fail miserably. You could have simply dropped out in private and saved yourself the embarrassment." Prudessa waved Bane around in front of Dillard and me. "My Bane and I are gonna wipe the floor with you."

  Dillard kept his cool when even I wanted to smack the lips off of that little twit. "Glad to see you fresh off the farmyard Prudessa. Good luck today. Don't hog all the glory."

  Prudessa remained silent, a first for her I was confident.

  THE EXAMS WERE READY to begin and were each both timed and increasingly difficult. The petitioners—those wishing to gain full certification for wands—were each directed to their own conjuring circle where they would run through the individual tests as instructed by the leading judge, Wand Warden, Jarvis Winterbell.

  Dillard and I made our way past the reviewing stand toward our designated place.

  Jarvis nodded his wish of luck, and I could just make out Gretchen whispering to him.

  "No playing favorites or overlooking mistakes now daddy."

  "There is no room for cheating at the scores Gretchen, I'm simply here to head the proceedings. The scores are automatically tallied by the enchanted rings the petitioners are working within."

  Dillard must have heard as well. I sensed his tension and fraying nerves. "Steady on, bond-mate. We have this in—as they say—the satchel."

  Dillard laughed. "Bag, Sparkle. In the bag."

  "Whatever, you know what I mean." I gave him a last encouraging tickle of energy, and we entered our ring.

  Ten tests of a proper bond were required for the first half of the petitioners' examinations. This included conjuring the elements and manipulating the ether. Though the criteria were reasonably primary, it was essential to produce results within a specific time allotment. One could never predict the pressures of real-life situations and needs for magic, so having these time limits were essential to making sure a mage could perform their duties under pressure.

  Prudessa—as expected—was the first to complete all her tests. She breezed through them and stepped from her protective ring, nose in the air and a sideways smirk toward Dillard.

  Bane sent me a mental snigger, which I ignored.

  Dillard would not be the last to finish, but nearly enough. As the tests got harder, Dillard slowed and used up his time to the last few moments. It was not a matter of skill, in fact, it was his nerves that hindered his progress.

  Throughout the ten trials, Dillard became increasingly distracted by the fact he'd have to be faster if he stood a chance at passing the second exam. The second half was a duel. It was set with restrictions to not do harm, but there were no rules for what spells to use. Most of the other mages were far ahead of Dillard in practical magic.

  Though he would be set against a mage of equal—or near—footing, Dillard knew that Mistress Winterbell would set him up for failure. That meant it would be the most potent mage aligned against Dillard.

  Dillard passed his first set of tests—barely. Though Jarvis and I both reassured him he had nothing to worry about, Dillard was getting into his own head. "I won't be good enough for Gretchen."

  "Don't you worry about my daughter," Jarvis said. "She is bound by the rules of the exams. You just focus on keeping yourself in the game, and you'll be fine."

  "But I have to win for the head Mistress to reconsider my past...transgressions."

  "You are correct," Winterbell said as she lumbered over. "You have been a thorn in my backside and frankly a disgrace to the mage community. If you don't win, it is a sign you should not wield such an...exquisite wand."

  Don't worry about her, I thought to Dillard. We'll win.

  Winterbell smirked and turned to leave, casting a coveting eye that caused me to rattle in my holster.

  "By the way," Winterbell said as she departed, "you'll be paired with Prudessa and Wizard's Bane for the final test. Good luck."

  Chapter 16

  The wizard duels began at sundown. The ceremonial display of wand usage by seasoned mages was a brilliant spectacle of flashing lights, bursts of fire and water. These magics were combined to produce images and air-sculptures depicting the history of mages and their wands. Conspicuously missing were images of Sparkle or any of her former bond-mates.

  "My history is not known to the Wand Guild Dillard," I told him. "But we'll be up there soon enough if it's glory you are after. Is that it?"

  "No Sparkle, I'm not interested in that sort of thing. I just want to explore what I—we—can achieve."

  Right answer, I thought. "Good. Buck up love, we have a duel to win. Now let's kick Prudessa's prissy little fanny."

  Winterbell climbed to the podium after the finale. She cleared her throat in concert with the squelching of the volume enhancing spell. It was odd and seemed her own wand was responsible.

  "We are gathered for the most prestigious and sanctified ceremonies the Wand Guild has the honor of presiding over. The wand trials of bonding bring together some of the most accomplished of mages and exceptional instruments of our craft. The wand." She looked at me after her last words.

  "There are a number of duels scheduled for this evening," Winterbell continued, "Most of which should demonstrate a great deal of talent and skill."

  Dillard felt he was being singled out as not part of the most in her description.

  Do not dwell on her words Dillard, I thought to him. I continued to send him reassuring thoughts as the duels proceeded.

  Dillard became more agitated and nervous as the evening progressed. With every announcement of the next pair of mages to duel—not hearing his name—made for more churning of his stomach. Feeling his anxiety was a new experience I could have done without.

  As the final duels before us wrapped up, Dillard prepared for our turn. The winners and losers of the preceding matches were accorded honors and merit for their efforts. When Mistress Winterbell rose to announce the final duel, Dillard reminded himself that losing would not earn him the same merits from Gretchen.

  "And we have come now to our final match-up of the evening, and it promises a ...interesting spectacle." She turned to Prudessa. "Here we have one of the brightest mages this Guild has seen in decades, dare I say since my own time as a petitioner."

  "Humility to match her beauty," I said.

  "Feeling your bond-mate's nerves, Sparkle," Bane said. "See you in the ring."

  "He is just as bad as Prudessa," Dillard said.

  "You heard him clearly? More than a whisper?" My new bonded mage continued to surprise me as he assured me through our mental connection. "Interesting."

  Winterbell must have sensed
our distraction. She cleared her throat again. "Our Prudessa Bruxberry and her bond, Wizard's Bane, will be matched against an interesting pair. The mage, Dillard Muckledun—not completely incompetent—along with an ancient wand made of Druid Wood."

  The crowd began to whisper and speculate before Winterbell continued.

  "Let us see what this pair can accomplish tonight. If he and his wand triumph, Mr. Muckledun will be allowed to remain paired with the wand Sparkle. When he loses, the wand will be returned to the guild where she can be assigned a more appropriate master. But we shall see if the Wand-Whisperer can achieve enough mastery to prevail."

  "Nice vote of confidence," Dillard said as he rose to walk towards the dueling ring. "Let's do this."

  Once Winterbell stopped pontificating her own achievements and directed the last pair to the dueling ring, Dillard made our way onto the field.

  Prudessa was already there waiting.

  Dillard heard the chatter of the spectators, including their wands. He was distracted as he lifted me to cross rods with Bane.

  "Bane," I said.

  "Sparkle."

  Dillard was fighting the voices in his head as he stepped back. Closing his eyes in an attempt to shut out the distraction, he failed to prepare when the duel started.

  The jolt to Dillard's chest rippled down his arm and into my core. The resulting shock sent the two of us flying, and Dillard was dropping fast. I managed to suspend us in the air, after a brief impulse sent to Dillard's subconscious.

  Dillard gathered his wits and lowered us to the ground. He sent a volley of fireballs at Prudessa.

  Prudessa deflected the assault with a simple gesture along with a cocky smile. She turned the final fireball into a flaming dragon, sending it backward in trajectory.

  Conjuring water, Dillard lifted me high, allowing the flow to spray out and extinguish the assailing fire-beast before burning my tip.

  Volley after volley, spell upon spell, our energy was waning. Though I could continue, my bond-mate is flesh and blood. Bound by the body's need for sustenance and rest to refuel and refresh, both Dillard and Prudessa were showing signs of fatigue.