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The Wizard's Son

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The grey robes are too big. Way too big. I can already sense that this is a bad idea. I shake the sleeves back from my hands and reach for the pointy, shimmery shoes in the trunk. They are gray, and solid, but they seem to be woven of gossamer, and when the light hits them I see unexpected colors. They, like the robe, are too big, but it doesn’t seem to matter somehow. When I take a step, they stick to my feet like something holds them there. The next item is a flattened felt hat, shimmery like the shoes, but worn, and tired. It seems to reek of wisdom and power. I shiver as it slips over my head, reaching my ears and whispering into them indecipherable phrases. I can’t really hear words, but the hat is muttering. Is it true that it is not the wizard who remembers the spells, but the hat? There are two things left in the trunk. At least, at second glance. At first glance all that remains is a smooth, polished, oiled and lovely wand. It is strong, and bendable, and seems to fit into my hand perfectly. Is it my imagination, or is the robe smaller, the shoes less roomy? Suddenly the hat hisses. My hand jerks toward the last, almost invisible thing in the trunk. I lift it up, a long, almost entirely translucent piece of fabric. The only solid part of it is the shining silver clasp. Instinctively, I draw the fabric around my shoulders and fasten it. I turn to look in the tarnished mirror to see the effect- but I am not there. Now I know this is real. Real and frightening. Something is battering at my brain, at the tip of my tongue. It slips out like I have always known it, but it is unfamiliar. "Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen." Those words- I have heard them before. They sound like no language I have ever heard. But they came from my mouth. Suddenly, with a creak that shivers the attic, the tall box in the corner, the one I had always assumed to hold an ancient refrigerator, folds down to the ground. Suddenly the light from a glowing door, a portal to another world, another time, blinds me. I have only a moment to register what I am seeing before a mist settles over my eyes and in my last moment of consciousness, the door swings slowly open…




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ArcherBoots said...
today at 4:02 pm:
The slow unveiling of the items keeps a sort of tension in the mood. Sort of like rolling around a sweet piece of candy in the mouth before swallowing it. Beautifuly written. I can sort of see this as a mixing of Lord of the Rings and Narnia. Very nice incorporation of the Quenya :) Elrond would be proud.
 
ramfthomas4This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
today at 7:35 pm :
Thanks, Archer.(you have no idea how tempted i am to call you Boots) What is LOTR fan fiction without Quenya?
 
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ramfthomas4This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Oct. 22 at 7:09 pm:
Thanks Wingless.  I thought about adding more to the end but decided short and sweet would be better. :)
 
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Wingless said...
Oct. 22 at 2:27 pm:
This is really great work! I really hate cliff hangers but the ending lets the reader's imagination run wild :) And I love the length of the story. It's short but with a lot of detail and some sort of discovey :D Good job!
 
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