Chapter 3. The Healer and The Wizen
The first thing Gulliver was aware of was the ache. It was the same feeling you get the days following a tough workout, but he knew it was the burn of too much healing magic. In his mind the trace of a memory dissolved. He could see a pair of blue eyes, twinkling in the moonlight. He tried to hold onto the memory, but it was as fruitless as holding water in your hands. Soft voices murmured nearby, but Gulliver couldn’t make out what they were saying.
He slowly opened his eyes, light stinging as it shone through. Eventually, he began to make out shapes. The blurry outline of three figures came into focus. Andromeda stood huddled between two stewards. The three of them hadn’t yet noticed Gulliver's return to consciousness. Gulliver felt a wave of gratitude wash over him for Andromeda. She was wearing her green overcoat, her short red hair accentuating her soft pale skin.
On her left was a weathered-looking man. He had a well-trimmed crew cut with a thick black mustache, all flecked with grey. He held himself with arms locked behind his back; his posture and stance disciplined. His grey hair had to place him over 100 years old; yet he was just a trainee, sporting the bronze wings of an initiate. His stance and composure were nothing short of regal. Gulliver had met him on several occasions. Krell was his name? He always showed Gulliver respect, but didn’t respond to him with the alacrity he gave Andromeda. She had a way with her initiates.
To Andromeda’s right was a young, inexperienced looking man. He seemed to be paying attention to Krell’s stance, and slowly tried to copy it with as much subtlety as a hammer. Andromeda said something to him, snapping his attention to her. Gulliver remembered this initiate, he was of an exceptionally keen mind, albeit entirely naive.
Gulliver was reclined on a bed, wand on his bedside table. He leaned forward slightly, despite the protests of his muscles. All the healing in the world couldn’t get rid of the aches that came after an injury. Everything was sure to work correctly, but Gulliver knew it would be a miserable time until his body overcame the throbbing.
“You can’t get up yet!” spat a squat healer carrying a tray of food into the room. “Stay where you are!”
“Hello Florence,” Gulliver croaked.
“You’re up,” said Andromeda. “Welcome back. We need some privacy, please excuse us,” she added to the initiates and the healer.
“Now see here!” Florence squawked in protest. “I’m in charge of the Healers Sanctum, and I’ll have nothing of the sort!”
The two initiates looked like children caught between parents, freezing in mid-stride to the door. “The High Marshall gave you a direct order initiates,” Gulliver said in a low, raspy voice. “I’d listen if I were you.”
“And I’d listen if I were you,” snapped Florence as the initiates hastily left the room, closing the door behind them. She let go of the tray and it rested pleasantly in the air. Then, she whipped her wand out of a wide pocket on her white gown. “And I’m sorry High Marshall, but even the Wizen doesn’t hold rank in the Healers Sanctum,” she said kindly to Andromeda. “Now, rest back down, you’ve been here enough to know that I won’t have any of your attempts to leave before I’ve checked you out properly.” She added, interrupting Gulliver's attempt to protest.
“Florence, sweetheart, you know I had to try,” Gulliver said with a smile.
“I’ve run this sanctum for over 220 years Gulliver, if you think you’re the first to try to sweet-talk me, think again,” the plump woman said walking to Gulliver's bedside. She adjusted his bed to a seated position.
“And you don’t look a day over sixty,” Gulliver said.
“You may be the closest to succeeding you charming young man,” Florence said, sounding like a grandmother speaking to her favorite grandchild. “Now, eat your soup, you’ve been unconscious for almost a day and you need to refuel your body.” She looked at the tray, which hovered obliviously where she left it. “That would be you!” she barked at the tray.
It moved quickly through the air, nestling itself onto Gulliver's lap. He took a spoon from the tray and dipped it into the soup. Thick chunks of chicken and an assortment of vegetables floated in a rich broth. Gulliver took a bite, and it was delicious. He didn’t realize how hungry he had been until he started eating.
He ate ravenously while Florence prodded him with her wand, mumbling incantations as she went. She occasionally asked Andromeda for details regarding where and what she had healed. “Egritudo,” she said. A warmth spread through Gulliver, gentle and comforting. He could feel Florence’s mind probing around his body, exploring the sites of healed injuries; both new and old. At long last, she broke the healing link, her warmth slowly trickling out of Gulliver.
Finally, he finished the soup. It filled him perfectly. Of course, Florence's soups always did. It seemed that Florence was coming to the end of her poking and prodding when she said in a very matter of fact tone. “The healing was done exquisitely well Andromeda, I must ask, how did you do it?”
“Excuse me?” Andromeda asked blushing.
“You couldn’t have healed this all on your own. I’ve over two centuries experience on you, and I couldn’t have healed this much,” Florence said. “You would have run out of vitality half way through.”
“I had Krell and Jasper with me,” said Andromeda.
“I trained you to heal myself, Andromeda, I recognize your touch. Further, I test every steward recruit personally, and know of a certainty that neither initiate can feel their vitality,” she finished. Andromeda looked away, while Florence stared expectantly at her.
Andromeda flushed deeper, stammering for words. “I...I...I’m sorry Florence, I can’t tell you. I don’t know the repercussions of what we did yet.” she finally said.
“If it pertains to the health and wellbeing of any steward then it is up to me to investigate,” Florence said commandingly, straightening to her full height. Though a full head taller than Florence, Andromeda wilted before her.
“I healed him in a formation,” Andromeda said abruptly; then she slapped her hand to her mouth as though trying to catch the words as they escaped.
“I’ve tested some dozen formations myself, and none gave access to a fellow magicians vitality. Which formation did you use?” Florence asked.
“Power Stance,” Andromeda said, somewhat excited to share the information.
“Power Stance?” Florence asked. “I never tried that, no one uses it,” she stopped and stood musing for a moment. “I need to check the other two,” Florence said, moving toward the door.
“Wait, I’ll call them,” Andromeda said. Florence stopped, and Andromeda closed her eyes and bent her neck slightly. The door cracked open, and hesitantly the two initiates entered.
“Merlin’s beard!” Florence cursed. “How...you didn’t use your wings...you didn’t cast a spell…” she stammered, looking back and forth between Andromeda and the initiates. “Well get in here!” she snapped at them. She spent time examining each of them as Andromeda told her about healing Gulliver in the woods.
Gulliver was upset that she had shown up, but now he felt sheepish. Grateful that Florence had preoccupied Andromeda, he slid out of bed. He was in his underwear, but his clothing had been laid out on his bedside. Someone had mended and cleaned them. He dressed quickly and pocketed his wand, then tried to sneak past Florence and the stewards.
“You stop right there!” Florence hissed at him. “The healing done on your shoulder is unique and needs further assessment.”
“It’s not even sore now that you mention it,” he said, rotating it.
“You two, power stance.” she barked, ordering the initiates into position. “Egritudo!” said Florence emphatically.
The jet of light blasted from the tip of her wand, hitting Gulliver in the shoulder. The healing link formed with such force it was nigh overwhelming. Gulliver could feel Florence's mind, powerful, yet gentle as well. He was fully aware of her, and even more so, her of him. He realized he was moving to her very thoughts, holding his arm this way or that. The comforting peace was beginning to lull him into a stupor. Florence didn’t seem to notice, she was healing him in a wave, washing the soreness from his body.
Gulliver felt himself yield to her even more. She began to examine his brain, his very mind. He felt like an open book, with as much ability to resist her proddings as a book has to resist having its pages turned. I’m no book! She was accessing his memories now, making them brighter, more vibrant. He struggled in futility, reliving the night in vivid detail. The Shadow had beaten him; he was going to die. Then the memory cracked in his mind and bright blue eyes appeared, then slowly faded. He could feel Florence struggling against the memories which were somehow resisting her proddings. She was straining herself; he had to get her out of his head. He thought of his mind as an open book, held the image tightly, then snapped it shut.
The healing link severed and Florence stumbled back; the two initiates falling to the ground beside her. Gulliver had his wand drawn, with a shield spell hanging in the air surrounding her. He had separated her from the power stance formation.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You’re fully healed, no soreness, no pain, no residual side effects.” With wide eyes she looked side to side at the fallen initiates. Both appeared fine, but Florence would make them remain to double check.
“Don’t ever do that again,” Gulliver said, his voice steel.
“If you’ll let me try to repair the memory again…”
“I am in good physical health and free to leave,” he interrupted, walking quickly by Florence and out the door. He waved his wand, and the shield vanished. Florence was saying something about magic in his head.
“What the hell was that?” Andromeda asked, rushing to his side.
“She was in my mind,” Gulliver said.
“What was she doing?” Andromeda asked.
“Going through my memories of the night. That’s not supposed to be possible,” Gulliver said.
“Apparently,” Andromeda said. “It is possible in the power stance. I know, I saw it last night too. I didn’t look at anything!” she added after getting a glare from Gulliver. “There’s more you should know.” She paused for a second, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “Well, maybe you already know about it. Did you put a ward in your mind?”
“What?” Gulliver asked. “That’s risky. I don’t play with mind magic. Why?” He was still angry, but a little curious now too.
“Well, I think I know what Florence was talking about. You have something in your mind. A magic that isn’t yours,” Andromeda said.
“How can you know that?” Gulliver asked. “Basic magic residue?”
“Yes,” Andromeda said. “I don’t know what Florence did with it, but I secluded it so you wouldn’t have to deal with it until we knew more.”
“So you’re telling me there’s an unknown magical construct in my head?” he asked.
“Yes,” Andromeda said.
Gulliver didn’t respond.
“Are you okay?” Andromeda asked.
“Fine,” he lied. Andromeda was staring at him as they walked. She wore her ‘You’re lying to me,’ face. He ignored her.
“We are going to see the Wizen. He expects a full report,” Andromeda said shortly. He could hear the anger in her voice. Florence had made the memories of that night clear as crystal, a recap would be easy. That is until the very end where the memory was somehow fragmented.
“You haven’t done that yet?” Gulliver asked.
“No, Garen was there,” responded Andromeda. At the mention of the name, Gulliver could feel his face flush. Garen! That sniveling weasel of a man! Surely he couldn’t know that Gulliver had acted independently? Gulliver would have to find a way to...Andromeda grabbed him violently and shoved him into a small empty room and shut the door behind them.
“What are you doing”? Gulliver asked befuddled. She slapped him hard in the face.
“That’s for lying about where you were!” she whispered in an angry hiss. She slapped him again. “That’s for making me put the initiates in danger!” She slapped him a third time. “And that!” she huffed. “That is for making me think you died Gulliver Dean Higginbotham!” He tried to speak, but she cut him off and continued, sounding overly formal. She only did that when she was really upset. “Now, we sent you in to infiltrate, and upon infiltration, you were to alert me when you found The Shadow. I brought the initiates as we’ve had leaks, leaks in which we’ve lost ground in this investigation. That’s our story!”
Her forehead scrunched up as she went, Gulliver had to repress a smile. She always did that when she got angry.
“And furthermore!” she said, “Let. Me. In! You don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you, we don’t have to be friends or anything else,” she paused for just half a second. Anything else? What was that supposed to mean? “But if you go off on some crazy mission ever again, I will make sure your wings are stripped!” she threatened.
“Wait,” Gulliver said. “What did you mean by anything else?”
Andromeda stammered, face flushing. “What? I don’t...Gulliver, you would have died if Jasper hadn’t thought of the power stance. Please?”
The two stood, tension palpable, waiting for the other to break, waiting for one of them to yield. “Andromeda, I can’t…” he stammered.
“No, you’re wrong, you can. Try again,” she said matter of factly, looking hopefully into Gulliver's eyes.
“Look, I’m broken, I’m obsessive. I don’t…” he couldn’t think of the words, she needed to know that he wasn’t someone who let people in.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, resolve painting her face. “But, if you pull this kind of stunt again, you are.” With that, she spun on her heel and strode confidently to the door.
“Andromeda,” he said quickly. She turned and looked at him, those piercing green eyes that knew him so well. “Thank you.”
“Be sure to thank Krell and Jasper as well,” Andromeda said. “I couldn’t have done it without them,” she added sheepishly.
“Let’s go give that report,” Gulliver said, a smile spreading across his face.
The walk through the sanctum saw healers with patients of all types, not just stewards. There was a man covered in boils, and a woman who had turned her feet into bear claws. Gulliver couldn’t help but stare at a towering brown centaur, whose antlers had broken on one side. A healer clambered onto its back to get a better position to make a repair, when the centaur immediately bucked the woman off his back. Apparently she didn’t know how to approach a centaur and was sent soaring through the air. A quick cushioning charm from Andromeda caught the woman before she hit the floor. Healers surrounded the frenzied centaur as Andromeda and Gulliver walked around a corner toward the entrance.
Though located near the stewards' headquarters, this building was an ancient castle which stood on its own, independent of the stewards. It was a monolith; something that had withstood the tests of time for generations of magicians. The healers, continually searching for the select few who could bolster their ranks, were sent to serve two decades participating in what they called ‘The Gathering.’
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Gulliver was first approached by them when he was young before he’d ever done magic in any sense. They came in their white gowns and approached his father. Gulliver remembered them taking him to the side and testing him. They cast spells on him that would make him aware of his vitality, should it be possible. His father had told him it was a choice. If Gulliver could feel it, he could say yes or no. If Gulliver couldn’t feel it, he had to say no. Gulliver felt nothing, and they left.
Years later Gulliver’s younger brother Finnigan was tested. He felt it. They meant to take him away from the family home and come to attend this castle for magical training. Their father let Finnigan choose, and he decided to stay instead of go. There had been a confrontation with the healers and Gulliver’s father, which led to them calling Florence to come and help them take young Finnigan. Florence stepped through a portal, sent the rest of the healers away, and asked Finnigan what he wanted. Finnigan told her he wanted to stay, and she let him.
Ever since then, Gulliver had a soft spot in his heart for Florence; she was the only healer who listened to his brother. His brother! Gulliver needed to get Finnigan here for The Shadow’s interrogation! They approached the entry hall and saw that the two massive doors were left open. They walked through into bright, warm sunlight. High above was a beautiful domed glass ceiling. It had been enchanted to provide beautiful sunshine during the day, and a cool starry night every evening. The magnificent stone castle had a giant sundial in the courtyard, which read just after nine in the morning.
“Andy,” Gulliver said casually. “What day is it?”
“Sunday morning. You’ve only been out overnight.” Andromeda said.
“Okay, that’s not too bad, all things considered,” Gulliver said.
“You’re fortunate Gulliver. Don’t understate it,” she answered shortly.
The rest of the walk through the sanctum grounds was spent in silence. Above the wooded tree line, the top of an intrusively large golden dome could be seen. The pair of stewards passed beneath the reaches of a large willow tree, and the dome came entirely into view. Gulliver hated it. It was magic and enchanted and fantastic in all those senses. Yet even now, he felt that it was built high and bright for one purpose and one purpose only: pride. It symbolized magician arrogance to Gulliver. He wanted to leave it behind, but they had an organization he needed for the time being.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Andromeda said in awe. “It always makes me feel like home.”
“After the debriefing, I’d like to call Finnigan in to watch the questioning,” Gulliver said, ignoring her sentiment.
“He’s not a steward. Policy dictates that only a steward or someone involved in the investigation may be present for an interrogation,” Andromeda said automatically.
“Who knows that rule but you?” Gulliver asked, taken aback.
“The Wizen I’m sure,” Andromeda said matter of factly. “I suppose Garen may know it. He has a knack for knowing exactly how to get in your way. You two really should have a heart to heart. Really get to know each other.”
“No!” snapped Gulliver.
“All I’m saying is that the two of you could benefit from some mutual bonding time,” Andromeda said with a snicker. Gulliver gave her a flat stare, not amused in the least.
“The two of whom?” said a deep, smooth voice. Gulliver’s face flushed, radiating heat. “Certainly not the two of you.”
“Hello Garen,” Andromeda said, smiling up at him. Gulliver glanced over and saw the two hold each other in a deep embrace. Garen was taller than Gulliver, thick and muscular. He had short blonde hair, fashioned into a crew cut, which always seemed to be freshly trimmed. His features were frankly, handsome. His poise said he knew it too, Gulliver wanted to hex the man on the spot.
“What brings you here today? I thought you had the day off!” she said excitedly. Gulliver lengthened his stride to escape the two of them, but they matched his pace.
“I’m here for you actually,” he said with a smile. “You told me nothing was going on this weekend with the initiates. Yet, I heard from a little birdy that you took them all on a very serious and dangerous expedition.”
“A very classified expedition,” she said knowingly, flashing him a quick grin.
“Andromeda,” he said calmly. “I have clearance to know any mission that the initiates are qualified for. There was nothing logged for this weekend.”
“There must have been an oversight Garen,” she said. “And besides, it wasn’t too dangerous, we had Gulliver and me there with them.”
Garen lowered his voice and said, “Andromeda, you don’t have to cover for him. You can take out the trash and let him face trial. He might not get expelled from the guild. It’s justice.”
“Marshal,” Gulliver said, rounding on Garen. “You don’t have clearance. Let it go!.”
Garen scoffed, his cheeks flushing. “You’re a marshal yourself, Higginbotham. And Andromeda can do as she…”
“Andy, shall we?” Gulliver asked, interrupting Garen. With that, he turned on his heel and walked steadily towards the large doors sealing the tremendous golden dome. They were made of a translucent periwinkle crystal and stood over three times taller than Gulliver. Upon closer inspection, Gulliver found a small depression no larger than the tip of his pinky..
Drawing his wand, he pressed the tip of it into the depression. “Recludo.” There was a rumble, and the great doors slowly opened inward. Beyond the doors was a small room with a single wooden door directly adjacent to the entrance. He heard Andromeda enter the small chamber.
“I asked for one thing Gulliver,” Andromeda said. “I asked for you and Garen to get along, and that’s what you do?” She opened the small wooden door, and a broom handle fell out and knocked her hard on the forehead. She slowly turned to look at Gulliver, eyes narrow, forehead welted. “That’s your fault too,” she breathed threateningly.
Gulliver stuffed the broom back into the closet and gently shut it. “Realm of the Wizen,” he said meekly to the door. He opened it again, and it led to a vast room with a large reception desk. A placard with the name Scarlet sat atop it, emblazoned in thick red letters. Behind the desk were doors that were a match to the doors sealing the great golden dome: large, purple, and translucent. Above them were letters inscribed into the wall reading ‘The Realm of the Wizen’ in shining gold.
The receptionist had flowing blonde hair, a tanned complexion, and full red lips. She looked up from her non-magic... was it called a cell phone? She set it down gracefully and looked up at the stewards, eyeing them as one would eye a wet dog on a freshly cleaned carpet. Her eyes snapped to Gulliver and became wanton, narrowing as she bit her lip.
“Hello Gulliver,” she said, voice suggestive. “You’re here for a...de-briefing?” she added, glancing down towards his pants. “Maybe you could make some time for me?”
“We are here for the Wizen,” Andromeda said coldly. “Not, the receptionist.”
“Oh, Andromeda. I didn’t notice you. You must be used to that though, so no harm done.” she said, looking at Andromeda with faux concern. “Anyways,” she said, looking back. “Gulliver, darling,”
“Scarlet, is Zedekiah here or not?” Andromeda interrupted.
Scarlet’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Andromeda, scanning her up and down. “You look so ill and pale, perhaps I ought to hurry, so you don’t sick up on the carpet,” Scarlet said soothingly. “I’ll just ring him on my new cell phone.” She touched a few buttons on the device's screen, and it began to make a ringing sound.
“Hello there!” said a voice from her phone. “I’ve answered it Scar!”
“Sir, take it off your ear and look at it,” Scarlet said with a bright laugh.
An old man, bald on top, hair white on the sides appear on the device in Scarlet’s hand. “Well there you are!” he said enthusiastically. “You’re blurry, why are you blurry?
“I don’t know!” Scarlet said in delight. “Perhaps it has something to do with us currently operating in a pan-dimensional space full of magic and illusion!”
Gulliver had to give it to Scarlet, though she was cantankerous and somewhat promiscuous, when she was around The Wizen she was an entirely different person. Around others, she was uncaring and cold, but around Zedekiah, she was compassionate and understanding. Gulliver sensed it was more than a facade; Scarlet genuinely cared about The Wizen.
“To what do I owe the honor of the call?” Zedekiah asked.
“You have guests,” Scarlet said, adding disdain to the last word.
“Well send them in!” Zedekiah responded.
Scarlet acquiesced and ended the call from her device. She pulled her wand from a rack of pencils and flicked it casually behind her. A small spark danced from the tip to the crystal doors which melted down into a frothing purple liquid. The liquid became gel-like and began to mold itself into a series of blocks, dripping and reforming until a crystal staircase glimmered before them. The magic radiated from the stairs with what sounded like the tinkling of several tiny bells.
The two stewards climbed the staircase up into a tunnel in the ceiling. After a few seconds of walking in darkness, they stepped out onto a bridge. It crossed a giant abyss, elevating them high enough to give Gulliver vertigo, even though he wasn’t really afraid of heights. Over the railing, Gulliver could see a deep expanse with several other bridges far below. He knew they belonged to other prestigious members of the Stewards guild, such as Andromeda.
The bridge led to a golden archway inscribed with runes and glyphs. Some Gulliver knew, but others were completely foreign to him. The archway radiated with power that made Gulliver’s hair stand on end. Beyond the arch was a room, well, more of a forest than a room. There were trees of all shapes and sizes; some towering so high that Gulliver could not be sure he saw the top. Near to him were small, sweet smelling apple trees. They were always in bloom and the apples never fell from the branch. Next were peach trees, always grown to perfection. Beyond those was an assortment of plum trees. Gulliver figured that they had to be The Wizen’s favorite as there were plums of all colors and sizes, but there was only one kind of apple and one kind of peach. Then came the berries, these had all kinds as well, but he knew that this was Andromeda’s doing. She had helped with designing the Realm of the Wizen after all.
Past the fruit, tremendous weeping willows were planted sporadically throughout the realm. In the distance, coniferous coastal redwoods towered and giant sequoia’s imposed their colossal figures. Though still within the Golden Dome, the Dome itself was nowhere to be seen. The sun shone brightly above, warm as a summer’s morning. Within the trees could be heard birds chirping, bee’s humming and occasionally a small squirrel or chipmunk would make an appearance. The floor of the room was short grass so soft that Gulliver suspected it was enchanted.
“Wait a moment,” Andromeda said, kneeling and unlacing her boots. She removed them, along with her socks, then tucked it all into a hollow in one of the nearby trees. She looked at Gulliver expectantly, who stiffened up.
“I’m not taking mine off,” he said shortly.
“The Wizen requested that all people remove their footwear while within his realm,” Andromeda said, flashing a mischievous grin. “Besides, it feels so good on your feet.”
“No he didn’t, and no I won’t,” Gulliver said flatly. He turned and began to walk down the path, rocks jutting out of the earth on the sides. The smell here was cleansing and had an almost healing effect. He could feel each breath of air bring more clarity and resolve to his mind. The Wizen would often invite stewards here when they were preparing for or recovering from a mission.
Andromeda came skipping to his side, peaceful convalescence adorning her face. She walked when she reached him and said “There really is something special about this place. You know, beyond all of the plants and such. It’s not just pretty.”
“You should know,” Gulliver said. “You helped him grow everything. Did he say there was more to it than that?”
“Just that it would be a refuge for all who came here,” Andromeda said.
Gulliver, having been wholeheartedly welcomed into the Stewards Guild after the Realm of the Wizen’s completion, had always seen it this way. All new initiates, regardless of prior position and experience, were required to meditate in the Realm of the Wizen for a minimum of five hours per week. Those many hours spent here during Gulliver’s formative years had helped him realize more of who he was. It was through that time that he found a modicum of inner peace.
Slowing half a stride behind Andy, he shot a quick spell at his boots. They stayed anchored to the ground, socks and all, opening magically to allow him to stride smoothly out of them. The grass was as crisp and refreshing as it always was. Nostalgia welled up in him as he strode. He remembered finding a secluded tree and climbing to the highest perch to meditate. He’d stay on the branch for hours at a time, just a young twenty something year old magician.
He evened his pace with Andy and strode without a worry in the world. Sure there were concerns, but the cyclic nature of life would surely help it find a way to work itself out. The path wound through a babbling brook. It was refreshing on their feet when they stepped into it, and the water absorbed into their skin, hydrating them. Zedekiah had thought of everything. Gulliver had somehow forgotten how much he loved this place.
Ahead was a small grass laden hill, with an out of place looking oak desk on the very top. At the desk, reading through a stack of papers was Zedekiah. He wore a white robe, tied at the waist with his chest exposed. He looked up as they approached and smiled.
“Children!” he exclaimed merrily. “Welcome! How are you?”
The two stewards knelt before their Wizen and said in unison “May our domain find peace.”
“Oh stand!” Zedekiah said exasperatedly. “How are you?” he asked again.
“Good!” Andromeda said, flinging herself forward, hugging the portly old man.
“Andromeda,” he said, embracing her. He moved her to arms and took a better look at her. “I almost didn’t recognize you with your new haircut! Of course, you make it look as lovely as a flower in bloom.”
“Thank you, Zedekiah,” she said, beaming at him.
“And Gulliver!” he added sternly. The man turned to Gulliver, locking eyes with him. Gulliver felt as though he was melting under this man's fatherly gaze. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I wasn’t sure you were a steward anymore. Off on your own? Being a renegade and forcing Andromeda to risk her initiates to rescue you?” Gulliver tried to interject, but the Wizen didn't have it. “I don’t want some cover story! I know the initiates were used because there was no one else. I don’t know if you recall, but the Wizen does have a crystal ball in which he can see all the stewards. And I’m the Wizen!” Gulliver stood, wide-eyed. Any sense of serenity he had felt before melted away.
“Yes sir,” he mumbled, looking down.
“Come here, child!” Zedekiah said, embracing Gulliver in a core-warming hug. “You would have died if not for her,” he whispered to Gulliver. “Keep her close, it’ll save your life.” As they broke apart Gulliver saw Andromeda, eyes narrowed, trying to hear what was said.
“Thank you, Zedekiah.”
“You’re welcome. Now, don’t do it again or I’ll call your grandfather.” Seeing the look of outrage on Gulliver’s face Zedekiah said “I’m not bluffing. Holden Sr. would be more than willing to whip you into shape.”
Gulliver knew it to be true. After all these years, all his study and training, he was sure that his old grandpa could beat him without much of a fight. But what scared him the most, was the old man would do it. Magicians got old and grey after hundreds of years, but they also got stronger, both physically and magically. They just lost interest in the world at large and kept to themselves.
“And have him let me in!” Andromeda said, bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand.
The old magician rounded on Andromeda. “And you!” he said emphatically. Gulliver could see her physically wilt. “You are lucky, Andromeda. If you had lost so much as one initiate, your position as High Marshal would have been forfeit. And that would have been mercy! You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself! What would happen to your partnership? You’d resent Gulliver. Your relationship would be ruined.” He turned back to Gulliver and said “Now, Gulliver, fill me in on everything.”
Gulliver wasted no time jumping into his story. He told him about all the magicians he had tracked and how they all received invitations to a secret meeting. As he told the story, the peace of the Realm of the Wizen returned. He spoke of his infiltration of the compound, the dark magic of The Shadow, and his chase into the woods. These parts of the story were crystal clear after his healing by Florence. He got to the part where he couldn’t use magic, and Zedekiah’s face intensified.
“What do you mean you couldn’t use it? As in you were hit with a befuddlement hex?” Zedekiah asked.
“I mean neither of us could use magic at all,” Gulliver said. “It wasn’t like a hex, it was like magic didn’t exist.” Zedekiah cocked his head to the side, but said nothing. “We fought. The fall left us both pretty battered, but I got the worst of it. I couldn’t beat him. He was going to kill me,” he said with a shutter. “Then, well, then I remember a pair of blue eyes. Something stopped The Shadow. I don’t know how. But something, or more likely, someone, stopped him.”
“And how did you find him?” Zedekiah asked Andromeda.
“He was hurt, almost dead. We healed…”
“No, I should have been more clear.” Zedekiah interrupted. “In what state was The Shadow when you apprehended him?”
“He was bound, both by an entrapment spell and immobilizing charm,” she said.
“Those were the spells I tried to cast,” Gulliver said, confused. “They didn’t work.”
“Gulliver,” Andromeda said hesitating. She looked as though she was trying to make up her mind about something. After a few moments, resolve painted her face and she said, “Florence mentioned repairing your memory. Is it possible,” she paused again. “Well is it possible that you did defeat The Shadow with your wand, and the construct altered your memory there too?”
“No. I remember. Everything that Florence touched is vibrant.” His memory was clear, he could see it, smell it, almost feel it, yet there was something strange. It was like looking into a mirror that had cracks spreading slowly through it. Memories that had been perfect only moments ago were being slightly obscured, as though the more he tried to recall them the more they faded. He focused on remembering the eyes. The crystal blue that had pierced his mind reappeared for only a moment, and the cracks in his memory spread.
They kept cracking. Further than just his confrontation with The Shadow...was it a confrontation? He had been perched in a tree, was there an owl in the tree? He shook his head then looked up at Andromeda and Zedekiah. She was telling The Wizen about how they had discovered the ability to heal memories, to influence the mind. She left out the part about accessing the vitality of her initiates.
“...and Florence said he stopped her before she could finish. When I was in the forest, I saw a magical construct in his mind. It wasn’t anything invasive, more like a seal. I wonder if Florence cracked it and that's why Gulliver is having memory issues now,” Andy concluded.
“Interesting,” Zedekiah said.
“And he...Gulliver? Are you okay?” she asked, eyes widening as she looked at him.
“I...I can’t remember…” Gulliver stammered. The harder he tried, the more his memories slipped away. “It’s fragmented, the whole night is breaking apart. I have to go back to the forest.”
“No,” Zedekiah said firmly. “You have to question The Shadow, and you have to meet with Florence an hour a week until your memory is sorted out.”
“Zedekiah,” Gulliver said. “I can’t, I don’t know why but I have to go back to that forest.”
“As you wish,” he said with a sigh. “Just know that if you do, I’m giving Garen the lead on the case,” Zedekiah said. After staring at Gulliver for a moment he continued, “Gulliver, I don’t like having to threaten you, but It’s all you seem to respond to. Do whatever you have to do to get ready for the interrogation, just get it done. Garen doesn’t get answers, he frightens people. We need you here.”
“Yes, sir.” Gulliver said.
“The two of you are dismissed. I’ll be here if you need anything. And Andromeda?” he added. “I think your initiates are ready to be promoted to full stewards. They undertook quite a task with zero casualties. You should be proud.”
“Thank you, sir,” Andy said, beaming. With that, the two stewards made their way down the hill towards the exit.
“It’s lucky this place is so peaceful,” Gulliver thought to himself. “Or no one would like that old man!”