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Short Story: The Right Spell

Images from Pixabay

The arena was half full, the noise of the crowd deafening.  From his vantage point, Kalendio Octavius could just make out the rough shapes of people.  

“You’re new,” the voice came from behind him.

Kalendio turned and squinted into the darkness of the hypogeum, “A woman, here?”

She laughed, deep and throaty.  “Athene, venatora,” she unsheathed her sword, “Slayer of lions.”

“I am no beast,” Kalendio waved a hand in surrender.

“What class are you?”  Athene looked him up and down, “I see no weapon.”

Magia,” he was reluctant to say it.  Most people laughed, some even flashed him the fig sign.

“Oooooh,” she popped a hand onto one hip, “Well, good luck out there.”

There was a roar as he emerged from the tunnel, and for a moment he thought it was for him.  Smiling, Kalendio lifted his head.

The man across from him was giant.  He wore full armor and carried a net and trident.  Kalendio’s smile tightened into a grimace.  “So that’s what hyped up the crowd.  They think this will be a slaughter,” he tightened his grip on his wand.  It was an old wand, crafted from an olive that had been struck by lightning on the birth of his father.

He couldn’t cast his spell just yet, the net was coming at him.  “Filius canis,” Kalendio sprinted away from the net.  Where, though?  Where was “away”?  The net seemed to come from all directions.  His indecision made him the perfect target, and the net landed on him with a thunk.

It was heavier than he expected, and he dropped to his knees.  The crowd went crazy.  “Faex,” Kalendio cursed, “Faex, faex, faex.”  It wasn’t a spell, but that didn’t matter.  He had discovered long ago that the words didn’t matter.  The wand was like a musician's instrument.  It let out the wordless song inside him.

He pointed his wand the best he could.  The giant man stepped closer, his trident ready to strike.  The crowd had reached such a fervor that the sound seemed to pulse around him.  That was fine with Kalendio.  Let them pulse.  He was about to disappoint them.

The spell poured out of him.  It ran down his arm with a tingle.  The armored man jittered as if he was struck by a bolt of lightning.  Then, his armor collapsed.  The helmet fell first, detaching from the armor and falling empty.  The rest toppled ingloriously, unable to support the creature it contained.  And there, wriggling around on the stadium floor and barking at him, was a seal.

Kalendio pulled on the net.  Seal or not, he was still trapped.  No matter what he pulled on, the net only seemed to get tighter.  The crowd roared again, but this time with laughter.  They had paid to see bloodshed, but this wasn’t so bad either.  The seal flopped over to him and whacked him with its flippers.  “Stop it you filius canis, or I’ll turn you into something worse,” Kalendio rolled on the ground.  The seal sat on him.  The crowd went nuts.

“Horrible,” Kalendio muttered as he slunk back into the hypogeum, “Never will amount to anything.”

“Hey Wizard,” Athene was in the same place as before, “Stop and talk to me.”

“You want to speak to the loser?  The one who lost to a seal?” Kalendio trembled with self-loathing.

Athene laughed.  Kalendio kept walking.  “I said, ‘Wait,’” her voice lost its mirth, “You may not be the victor, but your magic is real.”

Kalendio paused.  It was rare to hear that truth told without disgust or fear.

“Please Wizard, I am chained.”

Kalendio turned.  He hadn’t noticed it in the darkness, but Athene wore a bronze shackle around her ankle. A chain ran from it to a post.  Like the beasts she fought, Athene could shift about but only go so far.

“Real, yes.  It’s caused me nothing but trouble, like most real things,” Kalendio ran a hand over his hair.  It was sticky with seal urine.

“Hmmmmmm,” Athene hummed at him, “You came here to prove yourself, not because you were forced.”

“Yes, one more thing that I have failed at.  I tried entertainment.  Apparently, it’s not entertaining to turn someone’s mother into a horse,” he paused as Athene laughed.  “I tried being a seer, but the only way I could tell the future was by changing it myself.  Lucky in love?  Not if he’s an ostrich.  Future wealth?  Yes, once I turn your rats into goats.”

Athene laughed so hard that she slumped over.  Even though she was laughing at him, he didn’t mind.  Laughter was a sign that she liked him, the foolish wizard him, the him that even he himself didn’t like.

“I tried being a shepherd.  I made my own flock out of ants.  But they kept tunneling into the ground.  Being an underground shepherd got old really quick,” he sighed, “One day I hit a subterranean bubble of gas.  My oil lamp made it explode.  Shot me twenty feet into the air.”

Athene waved a hand at him, “Stop, stop.  I don’t believe that.”

“You saw me turn a man into a seal.”

“Yes, but tunneling sheep?  That must be seen to be believed,” Athene nodded at him, “Wizard, will you show me?”

“But you are chained.  How would you come with me?”

“Turn me into something that can slip out of these chains,” her eyes glowed with belief, “You can free me, and they will never find me.”

Somewhere deep within the hypogeum, an elephant trumpeted.  Kalendio raised his wand and let the spell pour out of him.  There was the flutter of wings, the fall of cloth, and an owl stared at him with yellow eyes round as two gold coins.  It flapped into the air, then landed on his shoulder.  Kalendio shivered as the talons bit into his skin.  “Let’s go,” he walked out the way he had come in.  No one stopped him.  “What use have they for a bungling gladiator,” he grumbled.

The owl shifted on his shoulder and protested, “Who-woo-woo.”

He walked on until the amphitheater was the size of his palm.  “There,” he pointed to a hillock, “this is where the sheep should be.”  He stomped on the hillside, “Here, sheepie, sheepie, sheepie.”

“Who-who,” the owl’s head spun with laughter.

A wooly head popped up out of the center of the hillock.  It squirmed out of the hole, only to be followed by another sheep.  One by one they emerged from the ground, forming a flock that encircled the wizard and the owl.  “Well,” Kalendio’s voice was tender, “you have seen the tunneling sheep.  Athene, you may go free.  May you find a warm nest, and good food.  May the gods smile on you.”

She released his arm and flew over the flock.  As she circled, Kalendio admired his work.  For once he had succeeded, and pride made his lungs fill with air.  He swiped his eyes with the back of his hand.  It wasn’t seal urine, no, this time it was tears.

As the owl swooped across the sky, Kalendio wondered if this was a new way of doing magic, or if it had always been there, waiting for him to cast the right spell.

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