The Wand-Maker's Debate: Osric's Wand: Book One

by Jack D. Albrecht Jr.

  “I will try, Osric.” She turned and walked across the platform briskly, and Osric was overwhelmed by a sense of doom. His Portentist gift was screaming within him to stop her departure.

  “Bridgett, wait!” Osric ran after her, and she turned back to him, “I do not know what will happen if you come with me, but I know if you stay it will end in disaster. Gather your things; it seems you must travel with us, after all.”

  Bridgett searched his face for signs of sincerity, and then grabbed her pack and approached the dragon.

  Osric called out orders to the deck attendants to prepare the dragon for the extra passengers, and requested that James seek out the extra supplies they would need.

  ‘The large grey' was a very good description. The dragon was massive. She could have curled up in Osric's house, but she would be unable to spread her wings within his walls. The heather grey scales were nearly the size of Osric's torso, and had an opalescent sheen to them in the moonlight. Her wide, fleshy wings were tinged with green, and heavily veined, showing red where they came close to the surface.

  At Osric's command, the attendants had rigged seating for four passengers on her back, rather than two. The double row of spikes that stood on either side of the dragon's spine ran between the two rows of padded, wooden seats. They were secured by soft leather straps that wrapped around her body, aligning them with the wings for stability. To the rear of the wings were two wooden chests for supplies. The dragon folded her wings, resting the tips along the ground. The trisected, bony structure of the wing created a ladder of sorts for reaching the passenger seats.

  On long trips, dragons were usually mounted with a wind screen for their passengers. Osric asked the deck attendants to remove it in the interest of speed. Everything extra was just more weight and made for longer recovery time for the dragon.

  “What a marvelous creature!” Gus exclaimed, as he joined Bridgett by the dragon, “Just look at you! Greyback is your name, is it?”

  The dragon glowed with appreciation for the compliment, and said in a much softer voice than expected, “Why, thank you, Sir. Yes, that is my name, but for someone as kind as you, it is simply Grey.” Greyback lowered her head to the ground to be closer to Gus.

  “Oh, you do honor me indeed, my beautiful Grey.” Gus said, and without fear he approached the dragon's head and rubbed the end of her snout.

  “Will you be one of my passengers today, Sir?” Greyback raised a thick eyebrow in a curious expression.

  “If only that were possible,” Gus spoke with great enthusiasm. “I would not miss a chance to travel on you for the world.” Gus continued his fawning and Osric thought he was being far too congenial to be genuine. Greyback beamed at Gus with a frightening smile.

  Kenneth and Bridgett started making their way up the folded wing to the dragon's back. They sat in their seats, after securing their supplies in the chests, and strapped themselves in with leather straps for flight. Gus and Greyback continued with their flattery.

  Osric had a familiar feeling rising up inside of him. His Portentist gift had stirred within him again, but it was not indicating a threat. His eyes focused, and a calm quickly overcame his emotions. His breathing became smoother, and his mind sharpened to allow for greater observation. It was drawing him toward the woods behind the Dragon Deck. Kenneth noticed the look in his eyes and immediately began to get out of his seat.

  “No, Kenneth, there is no danger.” All eyes, even Greyback's, watched Osric as he stood at the edge of the platform, a stone's throw from the forest. They stared in confusion as an old witch hobbled out of the woods toward him. Her shuffling gait and sturdy walking stick gave the distinct impression of blindness, yet she moved directly toward Osric. He stood, waiting; he could feel the gravity of the moment and he began to sweat with anticipation and nerves.

  “Osric, I presume.” The old witch spoke with a tired, raspy voice, as she peered at him through closed eyelids. Her long flowing dress was ragged and dirty, and her white hair was tangled and matted to her skull. The leathery skin of her face was heavily wrinkled, and dark circles rimmed her sunken eyes. Rings pierced her nose and heavily adorned her ears. If it had not been for his gift reassuring him, he would have been frightened by her.

  “Yes.” Osric managed to speak, though it came out as more of a croak.

  “My identity is not important.” He felt as though time was slowing around him, and he wasn't sure he could have asked her name if he wanted to. She had to be a See-er. “I have a message for you, my dear.” She levitated onto the stone platform, and reached toward him, grasping him on either side of his face. She pursed her lips as her eyes opened, and Osric was drawn into her vision…

  He saw himself standing next to a fire talking with Gus, watching through another's eyes. He observed the actions of himself and his companions and became increasingly aware of his hunger. He waited for a chance to jump. I will eat them all before they even know I'm there. Osric was disoriented by the thoughts in his mind, obviously coming from another. He stood there, crouched in anticipation, eyeing himself as he argued with Gus. The lady looks tasty too! Bridgett was sitting on a fallen tree, watching them argue with an endearing smile. After a few moments, he saw Kenneth and Pebble come out of the woods with a rabbit.

  As they all looked up at Kenneth's approach, he felt himself leap forward in the foreign body. Now is the time, while they are distracted. He watched helplessly as he charged, intent on killing, on feeding. They can't see me, and I will kill them all! He heard himself think, unable to control his movements or desires.

  Osric was filled with horror as he tore his own body to shreds, followed by those of his friends. He saw the blood as it sprayed on the surrounding trees. He experienced the heightened blood-lust as his claws ripped through their flesh. Blood ran down his body, and Osric was disgusted, even as he reveled in its warmth. Chunks of bone and flesh littered the ground in the aftermath. Not even Pebble escaped the massacre. He could taste their blood; feel the texture of raw meat in his mouth as he devoured them. Bone, muscle, sinew, and cartilage mingled vilely on his tongue. He had laid waste to them all. Blackness descended on his vision and he heard the weary rasp of the old witch in his mind.

  Victory cannot be achieved until the wand that is not a wand is known by all on their path. It will be wielded in practice by two, known by one but not known. Triumph will not turn your path from battle; for this is the second making of seven sevens. Only two of which will be wielded by man. For in man rests the hopes for all. Even now, it grows stronger.

  Osric was himself again, but was covered in blood and had to wipe it out of his eyes. He was still standing on the edge of the Dragon Deck, shaking. He felt his gift subside slowly, and looked around to see expressions of disgust apparent on everyone's faces. He turned back to where the witch had been standing and she lay dead in a crumpled heap on the ground. Her remains began to hiss and smoke, and soon all that was left of her was a pile of ash and some dirty rags. He looked down at his own body in revulsion. Blood was spattered over nearly everything he wore; his tunic, breeches, wand and sword, but his face had taken the brunt of it. He had no wounds as he examined himself, wiping the blood from his hands on his tunic.

  “What just happened?” Osric looked around pleadingly. “Did any of you see that?” They all nodded in affirmation.

  “Yeah, she spat blood on you and died.” Gus yelled out. “I imagine that's how I'll be going out too, if I have my way!”

  “She what?”

  “She spat on you, and then she died!” Gus repeated.

  “You didn't hear her speak?” Osric was in shock and had a hard time moving.

  “No, but she was a See-er, you fool! Only you experienced whatever it was she showed you. That's how it works.” Gus hoped that it would not delay Osric's departure.

  Osric repeated the prophecy, but was hesitant to explain how he had been in the attacker's mind when it had killed them all. “What do you think it means?” He asked, when he had fi
nished relating the words he had heard her speak.

  “I think it means you should get on that dragon and get far away from here.” Gus chimed in.

  “You said there was nothing unique about this wand, but what else could she be talking about? You must have missed something, Gus.” Osric held the wand out before him.

  “Ah, Archana's bones, boy! If anything is off about that wand, it is the man who wields it. Get on the dragon; we should go before it gets any later.” Gus shouted. “What do you mean, we should go?”

  “Well, what do you know about wands, other than how to make one go screwy? A ‘wand that is not a wand' sounds like my realm to me. If there is anything to learn about it, I can't very well learn it from here, now can I?”

  Osric was terrified that if he allowed them all to accompany him, their journey would end in the bloody scene of the vision, but he was overwhelmed by the idea of trying to solve the riddles by himself. He would just have to find a way to prevent the vision from coming to fruition.

  “I am sure Eni will thank me for taking you along, but you better figure this out or the dungeon will be your permanent home when we return.” Osric picked Gus up by his scruff and hoisted him up onto the dragon's wing to find a perch on her back, ignoring his expletives of protest at being lifted in such a disgraceful manner. He inspected the gear one last time to be sure everything had been stowed properly, and climbed agilely up the wing.

  After the goodbyes had been said, and Osric was safely secured in the front row of seats, his short sword strapped tightly between the dragon's spikes, he wiped himself clean as best he could with a cloth James had tossed to him. He took off his boots to make himself comfortable, and tied them to the straps of his seat to keep them in place. Gus took his place in Bridgett's lap, who looked at Osric with sympathetic eyes. There were no more preparations to delay their departure. Osric hoped he would find some answers along the way.

  Osric wanted to delve into the mystery of the wand immediately, but Gus insisted that they needed sleep and they would be much better off figuring it out in the light of day. After all, a fatigued mind would often draw the wrong conclusions.

  Gus made sure, through incessant flattery, that the dragon would wake them at first light on the flight. Greyback had agreed and assured them that they were safe in her care, and they took to the air.

  Osric watched the scenery unfold beneath him as they flew. He could not see much in the moonlight, yet scattered across the landscape were noticeable flickers of light. Torch light and campfires dotted the darkness below. The steady flapping of the dragon's wings mesmerized him as they flew. His mind wandered back to the vision and prophecy as he watched the lights start to waver in his vision. After the stress and strain of the long day, he could no longer hold his eyes open, and sleep took hold of him. His dreams were filled with mysteries and the horror of the witch's vision.

  7 – New Ground

  “It was a vision, and a prophecy.” Osric said to them, as they again listened carefully to his explanation of what he had seen. He had to speak loudly due to the rush of air with no barrier to block it.

  “Indeed, it was.” Gus said apologetically. “It does not happen often,” He looked at Osric, “but it appears that I was wrong about you. Perhaps there is something unique about that wand of yours.” His apology over, he continued in his typical manner. “Now, let me take another look.” For the first time, Osric wished he had not asked for the wind screen to be removed. He handed Gus the wand, fearing the wind would tear it from his fingers. Although, he needn't have worried, as Gus handled it well. He took it in his paws and activated his gift. A focused glaze came over his eyes as he peered into the very essence of the wand. After a few long moments of inspection, he handed it back carefully.

  “Well?” Osric inquired.

  Gus looked almost sad and spoke in a sorrowful tone as he answered.

  “As much as I would love to have made a wand of the magnitude hinted at in that prophecy,” He exhaled with a sigh, “it is just like every other wand I have ever made.” He said, with a confused expression.

  Osric was not completely surprised to hear him say that. He kept thinking through the words of the prophecy. Victory cannot be achieved until the wand that is not a wand is known by all on their path. Maybe he would have to prove to them in some way that the wand was different? Pebble believed him; he had seen it himself. He almost wished the little guy was there with them. It will be wielded in practice by two.

  “Both Pebble and I used this wand, ‘two will wield it in practice', that is what the prophecy said. So, that has to be what it means, right?” He argued, not even convincing himself.

  “Yes, but it must also be a wand that is not a wand,” Bridgett stated, with sympathy in her voice, “and that is most certainly a wand. It has to mean something more.”

  “It is also a stick! Prophecies are always cryptic, are they not? It could be that simple.” Osric protested, pleading for someone to agree with him and justify his reasoning.

  “Well, there is a chance that it was all just a bunch of paun droppings.” Gus considered. “I mean,” with a short pause, “wasn't Pebble in the vision? Take a look around. My pups didn't even know I was leaving.” He shrugged his shoulders to punctuate his point. “There is a high possibility she was just a crazy old blind woman talented in deception.”

  “I am not a fan of watching my friends get ripped apart right before I die, so I am with him.” Kenneth added casually. “Besides, you are a Portentist! How could a beast sneak up on you anyway?” He had hunted with Osric his whole life. He knew nothing could surprise him in that manner.

  Osric was shaken by their logic, though he felt certain the vision had not just been a ruse. As he sat there, thinking their arguments through, he had to admit to himself that they made sense. Pebble wasn't there; how could a wand not be a wand; how could one know it and not know it; and how could a creature kill him without him sensing it coming?

  The fact that so much had happened to him in a few days was a bit overwhelming, and the double pull of his gift was still bothering him as well. So, he decided that he would take a different approach. He would figure out how to prove it was the wand by learning what he could on the making of a wand. It just so happened that the world's leading authority on wands sat in the lap of the beautiful woman sitting next to him.

  “Gus,” Osric said, “I guess the only way to figure out if the prophecy is real would be to figure out if the wand’s existence is at all possible, correct?”

  “Well, yes, boy. That is what I am trying to tell you.” Gus said tolerantly. “It is simply not possible! Wands are just channels through which our power travels.” His lecturing tone reminded Osric of the witch in the market district teaching the young children.

  “Yes, I understand that,” Osric tried the polite path, in spite of his desire to throw Gus from the dragon for his attitude. If he wanted to figure out what was going on, he needed to know everything that Gus knew, so he gave him as much leash as possible, “but could you explain the process of wand-making to me?” After all, they had nearly a month of dragon flight ahead of them. Merely watching the scenery as it passed by would grow old quickly. Why not use the opportunity to learn something new, and through the lessons he may come to understand the strange power lock as well.

  Gus seemed to enjoy the chance to show off his knowledge, as his whole countenance had changed.

  “So, you wish to be a student?” Gus asked with an arrogant smile.

  Osric cringed at the thought, but he knew he needed the knowledge, so he went along with it.

  “Yes, if you would be so kind,” He may have to play the game for a long time, but it would be a necessary burden.

  “Well, what you need to understand is,” Gus paused, ensuring he had their attention, “these concepts have taken me a lifetime to learn. I will not be able to teach you everything in a month.”

  Osric nodded in agreement. He was just hoping that Gus sharing his knowledge w
ould make him realize how the wand was different.

  “Of course, Gus. We will learn what we can in the time we have.”

  So Gus set to work describing the process of activating his gift and weaving the strands of magic after drawing them from Archana. He explained how he fashioned the constricted shaft of woven strands that turned an object into a wand, and then attached it to the core of a stick in a way that would reinforce the structure of the wood. The whole process made the wand more difficult to break.

  Every ear was glued to the lecture. Though none of them had the gift, it was thrilling to learn how the Wand-Makers' power worked. Most Wand-Makers would highly guard their skills to keep others from besting them at it. Their livelihood relied on keeping their secrets away from snooping ears. However, on the dragon's back, nobody could hear his secrets, so Gus was more than willing to share why he was superior. The day passed quickly, as he explained every detail of the process, and how doing one step or another incorrectly led to an inferior wand.

  “Why does it need to be constricted?” Osric inquired, wanting to make sure he understood every aspect of it.

  Gus looked at Osric in surprise.

  “Boy, you are proving yourself brighter than I expected.” Osric felt pride swell within him as Gus continued. “That was the perfect question! When you think about your magic, you must think of it as a lake.” Gus paused for effect. “Your wand acts like the lake's dam, with a hole in it.” He smiled, as he jabbed his claw into the air to punctuate his last words.

  Every face looked confused by Gus' statement; even Greyback peered back at his odd imagery. Gus continued excitedly, “If the hole is too big, the water falls to the ground immediately under its own weight. If the hole is too small, it sprays out uncontrolled, and you never know where it will land.” Their confusion cleared, as one after the other, they began to understand. “However, if the hole is just the right size, the pressure of the weight of the water behind the hole will cast it out in a tightly formed stream.”