“Now then, you know where to take these, yes?” asked father Dimmon.

The boy he was talking to, unusually small and thin for his age, nodded fervently.

“Words, Jorgmund, use words,” father Dimmon sighed.

“Ossuary,” was all he got in reply.

Still, it was good enough. For now, at least. Certainly better than when he’d taken young Jorgmund in all those years ago.

So, with just another shake of his head, which made his long beard bounce around and jiggle, he let the boy go. Well, only after calling him back to actually pick up the box he was supposed to deliver.

The boy, Jorgmund, was fast on his feet. It didn’t take long for his short legs to carry him out of the main hall, through one empty corridor too many, and at last the temple doors that led into the yard behind the temple. There, he finally slowed down.

This was one of the few safe places on temple grounds, a place where he could relax. With its quiet atmosphere and nothing but a field of strange stones as far as the eye could see, it was perfect. For some reason Jorgmund never understood, the others avoided this place, but that just meant he liked it all the more, even going as far as spending as much of his free time here as he could.

Well, there was one more thing here, other than the weird stones, the gravestones. Just a short stroll in, maybe 10 minutes at most, stood an old stone hut. It was quite small, almost decrepit looking, yet it held on strong. So strong in fact that when one stood right in front of it, they would have the feeling of a distant beast looming high above them. It was the ossuary, young Jorgmund’s destination.

Laboriously prying the huge double doors open, Jorgmund just barely managed to slip through the resulting crack before it closed shut behind him with a loud boom.

And then, there was heaven. For Jorgmund, at least. Inside the ossuary even such minor noise like the sound of the wind, trees, and birds finally stilled. For him, the difference was like night and day.

But his adventure still wasn’t over. No, before him lay a lengthy staircase leading deep down below the earth. So deep in fact that the bottom wasn’t even visible.

Jorgmund, the brave hero that he was, valiantly stepped forward. Delivery box in one hand and a torch in the other, he ventured forth into the depths.

Step by step, he descended the stairs. Led by gentle caresses of dim light and the guiding hand of silence, he felt right at home. He felt welcome.

Enough so that he could focus on more than just his immediate actions for once. Things like all the murals carved into every wall, and even the ceiling, of this place. Everywhere he looked, old carvings depicting anything from heroic knights slaying vile beasts to hooded figures putting the dead to rest decorated the staircase. It all held a certain majesty to it, even with all the cracks and chips in the artwork.

Despite have walked this path many times before, Jorgmund still held a certain wonder when beholding the carvings. Despite having a finite amount of detail, he still found himself finding new interesting points to focus on. A knight whose stance didn’t seem quite so aggressive at all, a priest who appeared to be taking something out, instead of in.

And then, he’d reached the bottom. A seemingly infinite hallway expanded before Jorgmund. Dark, and yet all the more inviting. Dark, but not abyssal. Dark, and still comforting despite that. It was actually quite bright considering how far beneath the earth this was, but only when compared to absolute darkness.

The only sound, the only thing, disturbing this place were Jorgmund’s footsteps. And considering his size, it was more of a gentle pitter-patter rather than agitating stomps.

The walls of the corridor were lined with uncountable alcoves. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of small holes in the wall extended down the hallway. Each one held a small pile of bones, along with some ever-burning candles. It was all those candles providing the light down here, beating back the darkness in exchange for a dim sanctity, as well as providing the place with a warm glow rather than the dreary coldness one would expect from such a sombre place.

By the time Jorgmund reached the end of the tunnel, his torch had long gone out. Not that it was a problem with all the candles down here.

At the end of the ossuary was a slightly larger room with a ceiling too high for light to reach. Perhaps this is why it was built so far underground. Despite all the obvious grandeur this room was supposed to command, it held nothing more than a simple altar set against the far wall.

It was supposed to be flush with the wall, with nary a gap in between, but whether through negligence during construction, the simple passage of time, or some other force, a crack had formed. Like the beckoning maw of the deep abyss, it called out to Jorgmund. And this wasn’t the first time it had done so. Actually, this was only one of many such trips Jorgmund had made.

Luckily for him, the calls from behind the altar weren’t from some dark force or a devouring demon. In fact, the calls here were quite literal. If you were to put your ear as close to the gap as possible, you could make out the barely discernible mutter of, “bones. bones. bones.” Over and over, the same thing repeated day in and day out.

For any other person, this would surely be a sign to turn back immediately. Maybe even to call an exorcist or some such person too. After all, most people are inclined to be creeped out by mad murmurs.

But not Jorgmund. He’d gotten used to it long ago. He did not run away in terror, screaming. Instead, he, for whatever reason, decided to humour the creature responsible for the sounds. Perhaps he could hear something in its voice, perhaps it reminded him of something, or perhaps he was simply curious. One thing was for sure though, he was not here to deliver the package, the bones, for storage as he was supposed to.

As Jorgmund gently put the box down and removed its covering, the noises from behind the altar stilled.

“Bones?” asked the creature in the gap. Its voice was surprisingly high-pitched for such a creature of the dark, though as if to compensate, it was all the more grating.

“Mm, bones,” said Jorgmund in reply.

In a certain way, it was nice how the two, so different yet undeniably similar, had found each other. Two beings with a love for using few words.

Jorgmund reached into the box he’d carried all this way and took out a single thin bone. White as a, well, bone, it had the exact right measurements to just barely fit into the slit between the altar and the wall. As soon as he pushed it in, a different force took hold of it from the other side and pulled it even deeper, where it disappeared.

What followed were some of the most haunting sounds to ever exist. Crunches and cracks of a bone breaking apart, made only worse by the knowledge the bone had been human. It all lasted for dozens of seconds before silence reigned again.

“Bone?” it asked again after a moment of silence. Jorgmund obliged.

Like this, minutes passed until finally, the only pieces of bone remaining were the ones too big to pass through. And to the customary question of “Bone?” Jorgmund only replied with a shake of his head and a simple, “Outside.”

A brief bout of silence, then the creature in the wall replied by letting out the sad, falling tones of a single “Bone...”

“Don’t be sad,” said Jorgmund. But no one answered.

The creature, whatever it was, must have scurried off somewhere. Still, Jorgmund wasn’t disheartened. He knew that by the time he returned the creature would be back too.

Like that, days passed. Every now and then he’d drop by with another box of bones and feed the creature in the wall. Over time, he took up more and more responsibilities in the ossuary. Thanks to everyone else being too afraid of it to volunteer for jobs involving it, he eventually became the unofficial caretaker of the ossuary. He’d wake up every day and head over to the graveyard, where he then spent the vast majority of his time, most of it inside the ossuary itself.

Even more time passed and slowly everyone got used to the arrangement. The few other duties he still had at the temple were dropped in favour of him becoming the official caretaker of the ossuary, leaving Jorgmund with still more free time. And with all that time on his hands, Jorgmund had even more opportunities to be with his creature-friend.

Then, one day, when he was descending down the ossuary stairs, he heard a strange noise. A noise coming from much further in. It was a sort of popping and crackling sound, interspersed with much louder cracks.

Rushing down the rest of the stairs and through the long hallway, Jorgmund found himself in the altar room, beholding a peculiar scene.

The altar, various new crack lines running through it with more still forming, was ever so slowly moving. Something was pushing it away from the wall.

Stunned into silence, Jorgmund could do nothing more than watch the events unfold. Not that he’d have to wait for long.

As soon as the altar got pushed far enough, the creature exited into the candlelight. At least, it was supposed to be the creature.

Instead, what actually came out was a long stream of a coarse, white, sandy substance that flowed out, hovered in the air for a minute before changing shape into a vaguely quadrupedal… animal.

Its “head” looked around for a moment until it caught sight of Jorgmund. Once it did so, it immediately rushed at him. Poor Jorgmund barely had the time to flinch before it collided into him.

Or not. Right when it seemed a collision was imminent, the creature’s solid form once again transformed into a powdery material that flowed right around him. Which just left him standing there, unharmed but all the more confused for it.

And as he turned around and caught sight of his little friend, a gasp escaped him.

“Is- is that you, Bone?”

The white sand the creature was apparently made out of had once again changed shape. Standing on two legs, with a torso, arms and a head, the creature just barely reached above his legs. It looked like a facsimile of a human, just the general shape with none of the details that made every human unique. It had no identifying features, not unless you count the lack of them as one or being bone white.

“Bone!” the creature’s mouth opened and the same voice that Jorgmund was so familiar with came out.

***

A couple of weeks had passed since Jorgmund properly met his creature-friend for the first time, and life was good. Good, but not perfect.

Because while the creature from the wall, which Jorgmund had aptly named Bone, was no longer trapped in the wall, it certainly didn’t mean that it was free.

Yes, as sad as it was, Jorgmund realized Bone couldn’t exit the ossuary just yet. Other people, especially the others from the temple, wouldn’t think kindly of a creature risen from the bones of the dead. At best, they’d drive it out into the wilderness. At worst… well, let’s not speak of that.

And so, Jorgmund made the difficult decision to keep Bone hidden. Every time he finished off his duties in the ossuary, he’d make sure to properly close and lock the door, ensuring nobody would get in, or out.

Fortunately, Bone itself had no desire to go out and explore. Not yet, at least. For now it was quite content to spend its day engorging itself on all of the bones stored in the ossuary.

Naturally, that wasn’t all that had changed. Since Bone was now free, and no longer starving much of the time, their available activities drastically expanded from only Jorgmund feeding Bone. Well, mostly. A lot of the time Bone wasn’t that interested in whatever Jorgmund had in mind. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, it also couldn’t say anything other than its name.

Therefore, if you somehow happened to wander into the ossuary, you’d often find them just lounging on the floor. Bone nibbling on whatever bone was closest and Jorgmund telling it about his day. At most, Bone would sometimes reply with the usual “Bone,” “Bone?” or perhaps, very occasionally, “Bone!” And while the communication left much to be desired, it was enough for them.

So, the days passed, both of them content, if not happy. For as long as the bone reserves held, there was nothing to worry about. And the number of bones the temple had collected over the years was truly staggering.

Everything was fine and good. It should have been perfect. But then a stranger came to town.

He travelled light, with only a small travel sack on him. That, combined with the dark robes he wore, a deep hood hiding his face, resulted in a certain aura about him. Dark, but not evil. Sort of… mystical.

From the moment he entered town, it didn’t take long for rumours to spread among the townsfolk. Rumours of a wizard, a magus, a dark sorcerer that arrived under some nefarious purpose.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Fortunately for the people, none of those rumours were true. At most, they contained just the barest hint of the truth. After all, how could someone expect a full wizard, let alone a magus, to just randomly visit a town in the middle of nowhere. Those were titles earned by years upon years of study and practice! No, at most this stranger was a hobbyist mage that tripped into the world of magic.

But that’s neither here nor there. What’s important is why he was in town. Or, to be even more specific, what he found as soon as he entered.

Like any other person dabbling in the arcane arts, the newcomer was attuned to the mystical. He had a sixth sense, could sense what wasn’t really there. And what he sensed at that moment intrigued him greatly. For unlike most other areas in the world, this town had an abundance of mystical energies congregating around it. In fact, they all appeared to be concentrating on one spot.

So, the mysterious stranger wandered through the streets, blind to everything other than his mystical sense, until he found himself in front of the temple. Seeing as this was the spot, he didn’t hesitate and entered.

Now, any professionally trained mage would have immediately pointed out his mistake, easy as it was to make. After all, when presented by two points of interest, a place of magic and a temple, one would be hard-pressed to not assume they were related.

As soon as the first temple disciple caught sight of the wandering mage, he ran off inside the temple to call on someone more qualified. It didn’t take long after that for father Dimmon to appear in front of the temple. It was the least they could do when greeting a mage.

“Salutation, seer beyond the veil! What bring you to our humble abode?” Dimmon spoke with mild trepidation as soon as the robed figure got within earshot.

For the briefest of moments, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, the mage froze. It was the first time he was being addressed like that. He wasn’t a true wizard and anyone from anywhere else would have recognized that, so he wasn’t used to such reverence. Still, a mage is a mage, no matter how untrained. Besides, if he could keep this up, the respect would undoubtedly help him in his investigation, he thought.

“Greeting to you too, wise soul,” he began. Damn, was that too much, he thought. Ah, whatever. Might as well fully commit. “Through many marches I have wandered, many rivers have I crossed and mountains conquered to reach this place. Hear ye, if thou are wise, a strange power hath descended onto thine place of dwelling! Its purpose I know not, yet a foreboding feeling grows within my spirit. Heed my words! Something must be done, lest thou people face doom!”

This, was not an appropriate response to a greeting. Not for a peasant, not for a knight and not even for a hero. And mages were no exception to that rule. At least, they should have been.

As it oft happens when someone wields supernatural powers, superstition arises in the common folk. And when a whole community doesn’t come into contact with magic for multiple generations? Well, their opinions certainly won’t be grounded in reality. So much so even that they could consider the strange stranger’s response as normal for a mage. And indeed, that is exactly what happened here.

What followed was, simply put, chaos. Everyone who happened to be nearby, which, due to eavesdropping, wasn’t a small number, panicked. Even father Dimmon couldn’t hold it together for a brief moment.

All the while, the stranger, who still hadn’t introduced himself, just stood there, awkwardly staring at the pandemonium he inadvertently caused.

I… may have gone a bit overboard, was all that was running through his mind.

It took a while for everyone to calm down. That did not mean they were no longer terrified though. No, their calm just meant actions could be taken to solve the issue of their supposed doom.

“Gather everyone in the Great Hall! We must decide on a course of action,” father Dimmon said.

Another, slightly more organized, flurry of activity ensued. Every single person, whether it be the lowest of initiates or the highest of priests, all were ushered into the biggest hall in the temple. Along with one extra person.

The visiting mage, now standing before a gathering of about a hundred temple caretakers, gulped. Truly, a bad situation to find oneself in. He’d have to really sell his grand magus persona if he wanted to leave without half the town chasing after him.

“Good people, worldly souls! I am… Kasorin Electozoon. Grand Wizard Electozoon!” Every single pair of eyes in the room was glued to him, rapt with attention. “And I’ve come to warn you of a great danger that looms above this quaint little town! But fear not, for I am here! I only need to identify the source of the malicious energies surrounding your home to banish it for good. But for that I’ll need your help. I’ve narrowed the area down to somewhere within temple grounds, but that is as much as I can do. Worry not though, …” on and on he went, speaking complete nonsense for the better part of the next hour.

By the end of his speech, everyone was filled with grim determination. They’d do whatever it took to save their town, their friends, family and neighbours.

And Electozoon (if that was indeed his real name) … well, he was simply glad that nobody was suspicious of him. Perhaps some day he’d think over the consequences of his actions, but that day was not today.

Jorgmund, meanwhile, was slowly starting to panic. Not unjustifiably, he had jumped to the conclusion that it was his friend Bone who was responsible for all this. And in a community where even educated people like Dimmon were ready to believe something that, from any other mouth, would be considered madness, he wasn’t exactly hopeful of how they’d treat Bone.

So, while everyone else began to comb through every inch of the temple, Jorgmund began to weave together a plan. Hopefully he’d have enough time. As long as they don’t check the ossuary immediately, it should all work out.

Fortunately, luck was on his side and nobody even thought to check the graveyard that day.

Like that, it happened that on the very same day all this mess took place, right as the sun descended behind the horizon and night fell upon the world, Jorgmund’s bed was empty. Unfortunately, there were also many other beds left unoccupied. A patrol had been established, as much as you can call untrained individuals walking random routes a patrol.

Still, it wasn’t nothing and would certainly make Jorgmund’s job much harder that night.

…

If he were under suspicion, that is. But seeing as he was just another disciple, combined with the improvised nature of the patrol, he very easily blended in as just another person doing their job. It didn’t take long for him to reach the outside.

From there, it was smooth sailing for the next while. Basically no one was watching the outside, so the walk to the ossuary wasn’t much different from usual. Once there, Jorgmund unlocked the door and slipped inside. The real difficulty had yet to come.

Somehow, he’d now have to explain the situation to Bone and then escort it away from town. All while remaining unnoticed.

As Jorgmund descended the many stairs into the ossuary, he wondered how to do this. Lure Bone out with pieces of bone? No, it had more than enough of them in the ossuary. Carry it out by force? Bone would just become sand and flow back. Try to actually explain the situation? Doubtful. Jorgmund still wasn’t sure how much Bone actually understood when he was talking to him.

He’d have to improvise, he decided as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Bone was, as usual, crouching by a pile of bones. It was still in its vaguely humanoid form, only bigger. It came as a shock to Jorgmund when, one day, he entered the ossuary to find Bone had grown. As it turns out, Bone could grow by eating more and more bones. That also led do Jorgmund properly observing it when ate, which led him to discover Bone wasn’t actually eating. Instead, it ground the bones down into a fine powder, which it then assimilated into its body.

Briefly, Bone paused its feast, but soon resumed when it saw Jorgmund. Such a sight wasn’t unfamiliar to him. He always felt a bit of warmth in his heart when he saw that Bone found comfort in his presence.

“Bone? I need to tell you something,” Jorgmund began softly, “But I’ll need your full attention on me, alright?”

“Bone?” said Bone, its head cocked to the side.

“Listen buddy. You know how this place is a part of a temple, and how you’re not really supposed to be here?”

“Bone.”

“Well, it turns out people really don’t want you here and are sort of, um, hunting for you.”

“Bone!” exclaimed Bone, its entire body tensing.

“I know, I know,” Jorgmund tried to calm it, “but there’s not much we can do about it.”

“Bone…” its high-pitched whine made Jorgmund want to hug it.

“Still, I think I can get you out of here before they find you.” At this, Bone perked up. “But I’ll need your full cooperation on this, alright? No talking, not even making any sounds. I’ll need you to do exactly as I say and stay still. Can you do that?”

Bone stayed silent, but nodded, filled with determination. In fact, it stood up and began to walk in the direction of the door.

“Hey. Hey! Wait up buddy! That’s not the plan! Everyone would spot you like that!”

Bone paused in the middle if taking its next step, unsure. Seeing this, Jorgmund quickly took out one of the boxes he’d use to deliver bones, and opened it.

“See this? You’ll climb inside and make sure you stay very still and quiet, so that nobody even knows you’re there. Like that, I’ll carry you until it’s safe again,” Jorgmund quickly explained.

Bone sighed and approached the box. Huh, did it just make a new sound, Jorgmund thought. No time, I can think about useless stuff later.

Once everything was ready, Jorgmund lifted the box and got on his way. The treck up the stairs took a bit longer than usual, what with having to carry an entire extra person, but soon they stood in front of the ossuary doors. Well, Jorgmund stood. Bone was still in the box.

“You ready for this?” asked Jorgmund.

“Bone.”

“Alright, then hold tight and stay as quiet as you can.”

Jorgmund pushed open the heavy door, and exited into the graveyard.

The night was still relatively young, and the cloud cover had dispersed, letting the moon shine through. It illuminated much of the surrounding land, its silvery light giving everything an air of mystery.

Quiet as a mouse, Jorgmund skulked through the graveyard, hiding behind tombstones, when possible, all in an effort to remain hidden. But even the world’s best sneak is but a normal person when faced with the supernatural.

Just as Jorgmund and Bone were approaching the edge of the temple grounds, where it bordered upon a thick forest, a shout reached them from behind. One sounding suspiciously like the Grand Wizard.

Jorgmund didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even pause to process what was said. He just booked it, sprinting as fast as he could into the forest.

He ran and ran, deeper and deeper into the forest until he could run no more. Exhausted, he collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. Bone, who, thanks to the box’s cover having fallen during Jorgmund’s tumble, peeked out of the box, stayed silent. It was just staring at Jorgmund, a bit confused about what had happened.

Meanwhile, right outside the forest, Electozoon was cursing up a storm. Not literally, as he wasn’t a true wizard.

“Damn it, I almost had it! Not that I even know what it is. Argh! Stupid boy and his stupid box!” he muttered under his breath. But being left with no other recourse, he eventually bit the bullet and entered the forest.

Electozoon was, of course, still a mage and such trivialities like brambles, branches, mud or similar trivialities of ordinary life didn’t hinder him much at all. In fact, he even managed to receive aid from them instead, shortening his journey to just a scant few minutes. Magic could do much, even in the untrained hand.

When he finally arrived at the clearing Jorgmund was resting at, he wasn’t even winded, much less experiencing the complete exhaustion that Jorgmund was.

And as Electozoon laid his eyes upon his most coveted prize, he couldn’t quite believe what he saw.

Instead of a magical amulet, arcane ore, or any such classic treasures, what stood before him was the hulking form of a great beast. It towered more than a meter above him, its bulky form staring at him, almost as if into his very soul. But one thing terrified him more than any other. The whole of the creature was an eerie colour, like a sun-bleached bone.

Its entire body undulating, as if it didn’t have a proper shape, it spoke just one word.

“Bones.”

And then it launched itself at Electozoon. Only to be repelled by an almost translucent barrier.

“Fascinating,” Electozoon said. He couldn’t help but to remark on the intriguing creature before him.

It was only then, as Bone was bashing against his barrier with its monstrous fists that he noticed Jorgmund.

Hmm, I wonder what he was trying to do, he thought. Perhaps he’s also a mage? And this is his creation? Unlikely. Anyway, I suppose I should take care of this thing before pondering the matter more.

Electozoon closed his eyes and began concentrating on a large spell, arms flailing about and arcane incantations escaping his lips. All the while Bone continued to loudly pound against his barrier spell.

So loudly, in fact, that they even managed to wake up the bone-tired Jorgmund, who immediately jumped up with a panicked expression on his face, adrenaline pumping in his veins. There was only one thought going through his head. Is Bone safe?

Which was, admittedly, a strange thing to think. Especially since the next moment, when he saw what was actually happening, he didn’t think, “Is that human being attacked by a monster okay?”, as most people would.

No, as soon as he saw that a Wizard was casting some strange spell on poor little Bone, he became even more panicked.

He became so panicked that before he knew what he was doing, he sprinted right into the thick of it. Jorgmund, worried for the life of his only friend, positioned himself between Bone and Electozoon.

And just in time too.

Electozoon uttered the last words of his incantation and a crackling ball of energy materialized before him. Then, still with his eyes closed, he launched it right at the bone-monster.

Which meant it first had to pass through Jorgmund. Which it promptly did. Literally.

The magical orb passed through Jorgmund without harming a single hair on him. In fact, it didn’t interact with the physical at all. It was, after all, magic and this spell was also a bit more esoteric than most others.

The orb continued forth, its inevitable trajectory heading straight for Bone. Nothing could be done. Jorgmund was too slow, Bone still focused on punching and Electozoon recovering from one of the most difficult spells he could cast.

The spell impacted Bone. And left it completely unharmed. Instead, it entered Bone’s body, suffusing the entirety of it and making Bone shine with a gentle glow. But as soon as that happened, it all also played out in reverse. The glow retracted from Bone’s body until it reformed into the ball of mystical energy and shot back at Electozoon.

Except that, once again, Jorgmund stood in the way.

Just as the spell was about to collide with Jorgmund, Electozoon finally opened his eyes. And as he saw what was about to happen, he couldn’t do anything except let out an anguished scream.

“Nooooooooooooo!”

The spell hit Jorgmund and this time it activated. It got absorbed into him, similarly to what happened to Bone. But instead of suffusing him, it entered deeper and brushed up against something, something core to Jorgmund’s existence.

And then, Jorgmund understood the purpose of the spell. It was supposed to bind a creature’s will to another, making it its magical servant. A glorified slavery spell.

At that, Jorgmund rebelled. It wasn’t the type of relationship he had with Bone, nor the kind he wanted. They were friends, not whatever this was. They provided for one another, each giving what the other one needed.

This, this is, this is just wrong! Jorgmund shouted in his mind. And the world answered. A part of him, some deep, forgotten part of him, the very part the spell was trying to interact with, reached out into the spell and twisted it, changing it to a better purpose.

And then it was over. Barely a second had passed.

“Noooooooo! What have you done!” Electozoon was still wailing.

Jorgmund ignored him though. He was much more focused on something else. At the back of his mind, he could feel a bridge. And at the other end, something precious. Someone precious. Bone.

Bone, too, suddenly had the same connection it its mind. It stopped pounding on the barrier and stood still for a moment. Then it shrunk down until it was smaller than Jorgmund and stared at him.

Jorgmund did the same.

In that moment, more than a thousand words were wordlessly exchanged between them. In no small part thanks to their magical connection.

Then, they both nodded at each other. They knew what they had to do.

***

A couple days later, Jorgmund and Bone could be seen leaving their small town as they walked side by side. Of course, Bone had to be covered by a cloak, the townsfolk would still think of it as a monster, but that was why they were leaving.

Where they were going? Well, that’s a story for another time. Suffice it to say, it’s a story of magical proportions.