Chapter One: Double Standard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Everything comes in pairs.” is an old Maldos saying. It was considered a sign of perfection. Everyone had two eyes, two hands, two nostrils—the things that offended usually came single—including the mouth which was the cause of a great deal of trouble in most circumstances. Even the animals came in pairs: male and female. It was said that even the gods were paired. So when the fraternal twins, Bernum and Malkia, were born to the Pharmacist in Yapan Township they were praised as the highest blessings from the gods, and their beautiful mother the most wonderful woman alive.

     Bernum looked just like his father. He had chocolate colored eyes, dark rich skin, high cheekbones and curly black hair already sprouting on his scalp. Malkia was just like her mother. Slightly fairer than her brother, her chin was a little pointier and her nose a little button of a thing. Everyone said she would be a beauty when she was grown, someday drawing the eyes of men everywhere she went. But their parents were merely glad they were healthy and happy babies.

But the saying about pairs also had a double meaning. After all, as everything came in a pair, single things were never actually single. That is to say, with every singular blessing that came into the world, they believed there was an equally bad curse to counter it. So, three years after Bernum and Malkia were born, the Pharmacist had another child brought into his household, Dennik—a baby boy who when he arrived, his mother left the world. And worse, where Bernum and Malkia were considered the sign of absolute perfection, Dennik was the epitome of imbalanced.

Dennik’s right hand had only a thumb and forefinger. His left hand looked like someone had crushed it in a fist, all the fingers scrunched together uselessly, hardly able to move. He also had a clubfoot at the end of his left leg. But the rest of him was perfect, his bright eyes smiling almost immediately upon seeing his father, brother and sister; which was why the day he arrived and his mother died, Bernum and Malkia fell in love with him. And their father—he wrapped that baby up and took care of him with all his heart, praying to the gods for help that one day his son would be cured.

Unfortunately not everyone saw little Dennik that way.

“He’s a demon!” shrieked the Pharmacist’s mother who arrived in Yapan from Yodanna to help take care of the now motherless children, glaring at the child’s crushed hand as it cooed and pawed his father’s face with his bent fingers. “You should kill it!”

“It is my child,” the Pharmacist answered, pulling his bald headed boy back with a protective hand.

“It is deformed!” she screamed at him, her face flushing dark. “Either you drown that beast or I will never enter your house again!”

Blinking his chocolate eyes at her, the Pharmacist replied in his usual soft manner, “Very well, Mother. You may leave.”

Puffing and huffing, the Pharmacist’s mother stomped out of Yapan.

And she wasn’t the only one to say the baby was a demon. His wife’s mother was worse. When she visited to act as replacement-mother for the children, she actually took up the baby when he was napping to strangle him for the death of her daughter. Luckily Bernum and Malkia were playing near by and saw her. Malkia screamed on the top of her high-pitched lungs, calling her father upstairs from the shop, and Bernum ran up to his grandmother, biting her on the arm. Neither grandmother returned after that day.

Over the course of the first few months of the baby’s life, the Pharmacist hired around twenty different nannies, though none were suitable in the long run. They were more than glad to take care of Bernum and Malkia, thrilled to be in the presence of such innocent perfection, but when left alone with Dennik they all turned out just as likely kill him and pretend it was an accident as the grandmothers. There were a number of close calls. The twins stopped one from drowning Dennik in the bath. Another time they caught Dennik when one nanny purposely dropped him down the stairs. There was even a nanny that almost put Dennik in the stock pot to boil him, but Bernum turned the boiling water on her instead while Malkia pulled her baby brother away by his little arms. Regularly nannies’ voices carried on the wind that the ‘demon’ had cursed them all.

That was why the Pharmacist then hired a housekeeper to tend to the household duties while he took the children with him into the shop during the day. She did all the shopping, the cleaning, the cooking, and the mending. He paid her for her work and inspected every detail to make sure she did not try to poison the baby’s clothes, bedding or food. And for the next two years that arrangement was all the family knew. They never went out. They remained in the house, in the shop, and in the yard. And because business died down after the birth of Dennik, most of the patrons terrified of the ‘demon’ child and only came in desperation for the Pharmacist’s excellent medicines, they lived on a meager income.

Perhaps the Pharmacist and his children would have remained isolated for the rest of their lives if not for one man who decided to swallow his fear and visit.

He knocked on the door to the pharmacy, yet not stepping in. “Hello?”

The Pharmacist peered over the pharmacy counter at the head that peeked in. It was the schoolmaster, Beyan, a man trained in the Kibilla Township at the Master School of Higher Learning. He had been living in Yapan for some time now, married with a child of his own. Darker than most Maldos men, his smile gleamed white along with the glitter of hope in his eyes. He was wringing his hands.

“You can come in,” the Pharmacist said after a while.

Nodding and bowing, Beyan the schoolmaster took one step into the pharmacy, looking around as if searching for deadly spiders. “I’m sorry to barge in like this—”

“You’re not barging in,” the Pharmacist replied, walking around the back of the counter along the wall that was stuffed with shelves upon shelves of herb packets in wooden drawers, labeled for easy access. He put away one, tucking it inside before shoving the small drawer closed. There was a prescription on the table near the register he had been filling.

The schoolmaster took another step in, bowing. “All the same, I was not sure you would welcome me since you did not register your children for school this term.”

The Pharmacist merely blinked at him.

“I would assume that is means you do not believe I am fit to teach your children,” Beyan added, taking yet another step towards the pharmacy counter.

Snorting, the Pharmacist swiped up the prescription medicines and wrapped them up in brown paper. “It is unwise to assume anything… considering I don’t even know you.”

Nodding somewhat abashedly, the schoolmaster wrung his hands more tightly. “Yes… But, uh, if that isn’t the case then why didn’t you enroll your children for school? Don’t you want them to be educated?”

The Pharmacist leaned on the counter then beckoned the schoolmaster closer with his hand.

Beyan complied, hunched a bit as he walked in towards the owner of the shop. Still, his eyes searched about for something.

“You ask me why I have not enrolled Bernum and Malkia in the school, and yet you look around my shop as if something will jump out to get you,” the Pharmacist said.

Beyan tensed, cringing.

“You should know why I didn’t enroll them.” Nodding, the Pharmacist continued, “My children are precious to me—all of them. I haven’t let Bernum or Malkia leave the home alone since we were left on our own. And do you know why? Twins are of high value on the black market.”

“I would never—”

But the Pharmacist held his hand up, stopping him. “We haven’t even been to the marketplace in years. I’ve had to hire out for help and keep my children here in the shop to protect them.”

“Are they here now?” Beyan looked around; half eager, half terrified.

“In the other room,” the Pharmacist replied. “I can hear them playing.”

Sighing, Beyan nodded. “I can understand you are worried about the safety of your two children…”

“Three children,” the Pharmacist corrected with some bite.

“…But I assure you when they come to school they will be in my care. I won’t let anything happen to them,” Beyan said.

“And who will take them?” the Pharmacist asked, blinking mildly at him.

The schoolmaster blinked back. “What do you mean?”

Sighing, the Pharmacist replied, “I already told you, I can’t have them walking out on their own. And I can’t take them. The moment I step out people will start throwing things at Dennik.”

Cringing, though not in dismay this time, the schoolmaster tiredly replied, “Then leave him with the housekeeper.”

He watched the Pharmacist lean back from the counter shaking his head. The Pharmacist went to the wall, opened several drawers, and lifted out supplies to make another medicinal cure.

The schoolmaster followed him along the length of the counter. “All right. I see you are not apt to do that. How about another suggestion? I pick them up for school, and then after school I deliver them safely home.”

Halting, the Pharmacist looked at the schoolmaster out of the corner of his eye. “You would do that?”

Beyan nodded hard. “I will take full responsibility.”

“Can I get that in writing?” the Pharmacist asked.

Sighing rather loudly, the schoolmaster nodded, stepping back. “Yes. I will provide the written document when I pick them up tomorrow. We start early.”

“And what of the enrollment fee?” the Pharmacist asked, still peering at him.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Beyan said, “I’m not paid much by the town council, but I am willing to cut your enrollment fee in half for the twins—two for the price of one.”

“And this requires uniforms?” the Pharmacist persisted in asking.

Beyan nodded frankly. “Yes. It is a must that I cannot bend on, even for amazing children such as yours.”

“Hmm.” The Pharmacist set down his supplies and walked to the open back door, calling in. “Bernum. Malkia. Come here.”

The two children raced from the side of Dennik whom they had been entertaining with paper dolls they had made out of the brown paper scraps, telling him funny stories to make him laugh. Dennik rose up with effort, toddling after them on his clubfoot, wondering what it was that called their attention to the shop.

Pointing over the counter to the schoolmaster, the Pharmacist said, “This is Beyan the Schoolmaster. Tomorrow you will be walking to school with him.”

“Riding, actually,” the schoolmaster said with a broad grin, his eyes taking in the ‘marvelous perfection’ that were the twins. He said to them, “I will have a carriage take us. You needn’t walk the distance.”

“You needn’t hire a carriage,” the Pharmacist replied somewhat sternly.

“For them I would do anything,” the schoolmaster replied. “The expense is nothing to the honor.”

“No,” the Pharmacist repeated, his gaze hard. “Bernum and Malkia must be treated like any other children.”

The schoolmaster looked stunned, opening his mouth to protest, but then he caught sight of Dennik in the doorway peeking his curious eyes at him, the boy’s tiny crushed hand scratching under his chin. However the child ducked the same time the schoolmaster did, both defensive reactions.

Bernum frowned. He looked to Malkia who likewise was disappointed in their schoolmaster. Their hopes that he would be different from all the others in the town who had come into the shop and reacted violently to Dennik, dropped immediately. Not one person to date had been different.

“Tomorrow,” the Pharmacist said, taking over the conversation, “you will go with the schoolmaster to school, work hard to learn your lessons and you will come back with him. You will have to try on some clothes—school uniforms. I will pay for them. I will have the housekeeper pack a day-meal for the both of you. Do not leave the school grounds alone. Understand? Remember what I said about strangers.”

Both Bernum and Malkia nodded, gazing up at him.

“I go school too!” Dennik said, tugging on his father’s pant leg.

Rubbing his head with a mournful smile, the Pharmacist replied, “School is for five-year-olds and older, not for two-year-olds.”

“I go school!” Dennik stomped his club foot, wincing somewhat.

Malkia grabbed him in a hug, squeezing him tight around his shoulders. “We’ll bring school back to you!”

Bernum nodded, glancing once at the slightly horrified look on their schoolmaster’s face. Beyan, however, immediately tried to hide it as he could clearly see now that if he reacted more violently in disgust at the deformed boy he would offend the two he wanted the most in his school. Yet even then the idea of including the misshapen ‘demon-child’ into his establishment in three years time sickened him.

Beyan took a step back from the counter, sticking on a pleased expression, and he averted his eyes away from Dennik to maintain his facade of geniality. “All right then. Tomorrow morning I’ll return. Bring with you all you need and we’ll walk.”

The Pharmacist met his gaze, nodding firmly. He was used to people maintaining face, finding it more suitable than the dirty looks and fear.

Berum and Malkia gazed up at their father, wondering what school would be like. And more, they wondered if in three years’ time if Dennik would be allowed to go also. Peering up at the schoolmaster’s twitchy hands it didn’t seem likely. And catching their father’s warning looks, they knew it couldn’t be so. It would be their job to teach Dennik what they learned at school, and that was all there was to it.

Squaring their tiny shoulders, the twins resolved upon it to change the world for Dennik.

Chapter Two: Schooling

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just as promised, Beyan was standing outside their home, waiting for the twins just as the sun was rising so they could walk at a leisurely pace for an adult, a quick one for a child. At the door, their father whispered assurances to them as he handed them their packed lunch, “I trust Schoolmaster Beyan to take care of you. But if ever he fails and either of you get lost or hurt, I will climb through any forest, cross any desert, fight any wild animal to get to you. Understand?”

Both Bernum and Malkia nodded.

He gently ushered them out the door to where the schoolmaster stood grinning at them with an extended hand for each of them. And as both five-year-olds took the schoolmaster’s hands the Pharmacist lingered in the doorway, watching them leave his close protection for the first time ever. He braced his shoulders and put on a strong face for them, holding Dennik in his arms as the child waved to his older brother and sister.

Their walk up to the schoolhouse was something else. It had been a while since they had last left their home, but luckily for them both, the twins were eagerly soaking in the new sights with excitement rather than fear. Beyan attributed it to their perfection as twins, unaware that their father had been prepping them since the night before.

With their wide eyes they took in the shop fronts, the tradesmen opening their carts to show their wares; the milkmaids carrying their large jugs on each arm with the bow shaped yoke over their shoulders to steady each one; the butcher shop where the man was already cutting the meat from the pig, its head on display with other fine chops and cutlets; the fishmonger with his barrels and fly duster, sweeping them away as he called “fresh fish” to the early shoppers; the stilt-walkers putting out the  last of the oil lamps from the night; the news posters, spreading paste on the community bulletin boards after scraping off the last posting with headlines about a trade fair in Jonori, the coastal city; the number of slaves being led to the market their chains dragging from their ankles with their shoulders stooped and their heads down. It was all overwhelming to the senses.

The odors, the sounds, the clamor of calls and people begging for attention and money—all of it drew the children’s little eyes everywhere. And further, the differences in the faces they saw around them. There were the dignified merchants in their rich flowing robes and round hats, the white of their eyes and teeth shining against their clean dark skin. There were the shopkeepers dressed in plainer clothes with varying degrees of wear depending on their jobs, the butcher looking the most stained with his bloody apron and gloves, though the chimney sweep was the dirtiest. Then there were the women. Many of them dressed according to their station, the richer the more extravagant. Some of them wore their hair up in rich turbans of vellum and lame, while others wrapped them in cloth to keep the dust off. The more common the woman was, the more her hair was like a man’s, short and easy to care for. Malkia’s clean long tight curls were clearly a sign she was from a good family, and already she drew eyes.

“Stay close to me, children,” Beyan said, clutching their hands a little tighter.

They did, watching all the eyes that stared at them. Several of the people had started to whisper that the Pharmacist’s twins were at last out of the home. They also peered at the schoolmaster who marched with strength in his eyes to let all who saw them know he would harm anyone who laid a finger on either child.

But the children didn’t seem to notice. Bernum was staring at the line of slaves being loaded into the back of a horse cart. He pointed at them. “Why are they chained? What did they do?”

Blinking at them, Beyan replied, “Oh. The slaves? It isn’t what they did. It is what their ancestors did. You see how they are different from us? Their skin is the wrong color, their faces broader, flatter. And their hair. See how it is wavy rather than curly? Their ancestors were demons. In fact, they are still part demon.”

Both Bernum and Malkia made faces. Not at the slaves, but at the schoolmaster. After all, it was the same thing people said about Dennik.

But the schoolmaster did not seem to notice the reason for their disgust and continued to explain, “They are Sky Children. Their ancestors used to have blue eyes. Only demons have blue eyes.”

“They’re slaves just because they are different?” Malkia at last asked, frowning at him.

Beyan blinked at her, comprehending her objection now. “No. Their ancestors also had a deadly touch. They took over most of the northern continent over two thousand years ago. And around a thousand years ago the people revolted and took the land back. Now we are punishing them.”

Frowning also, Bernum looked skeptical. “It doesn’t seem right.”

Chuckling as he led them away from the slaves, Beyan the schoolmaster replied, “My dear boy, you have a lot to learn about the world. It is a great deal bigger than just Yapan. Even bigger than Maldos.”

They proceeded on to the school house, but not before bumping into a Hann tradesman where Beyan could teach that here was a foreigner that wasn’t a demon, yet was different from them also. The Hann were fairer skinned, more tan than dark. Their eyes were almond shaped also, their hair brown, as was their eyes. However, Beyan did express that Hann were famous liars.

The school itself wasn’t anything to fuss about. There were five classes set up in the plastered stone building, each with an educated male teacher and an occasional woman teacher helper. The teacher in the first year class was a young man by the name of Wernet who eagerly greeted all the open-eyed five-year olds and six-year olds that entered his room for the first time. Some of the children were sobbing, reaching for their mothers to take them back home, but Bernum and Malkia walked in confidently looking around at the brightly painted letters of the Maldos alphabet that ran along the top rim of the room all the way around. Wernet nodded to Schoolmaster Beyan when the man handed Malkia and Bernum into his care, smiling especially warm for them.

“Welcome. I’m so glad you could join my class,” he said to the both of them, clasping his hands in a somewhat-dramatic manner that the twins thought was a little bit much for a man. So used to their father’s quiet ways, every other way was just strange.

They took their seats. And so began the first of many years of in-class learning.

 

Already well-mannered children, Bernum and Malkia were fine students. After getting used to him, they liked their teacher very much and loved to hear him talk. They were quick learners, but that was because their father had already started to teach them to read. Since The Pharmacist hadn’t thought their education was possible before, he had already taken it upon himself to start them in their letters. Also, they had no trouble sitting still, unlike some of the other children. So pleased, their teacher had attributed it to their perfection as twins, not at all on their relation to Dennik in whom it had been made necessity to entertain in a sitting position for hours.

But mostly, Bernum and Malkia were also more mature for their age. That was obvious in their exchanges with the other children. Many of the other children kicked fits when they didn’t get what they wanted, but the twins had the same mild manner as their father. If someone wanted the toy they were playing with, or wanted their seat, the brother and sister would pick up together and do something else. No fighting, no scratching, no shouting or hair pulling—that is, unless someone made a remark about Dennik. On the first day, an older child foolishly did so during the lunch break, walking over the school yard to see the twins for himself to share his condolences that their younger brother was born a demon.

“He is not a demon!” Bernum shouted, hopping to his feet with his hands in fists.

Malkia grabbed a handful of dirt to throw at the offender.

The child staggered back, blinking at them then scurried off.

The others in the schoolyard stared. Few had dared approach them. Like Dennik, seen as different, (the peak of perfection rather than a demon) most were uncomfortable with them.

Near the end of their first day their teacher took the children to the school library where he allowed them to take up any book to look at for the final twenty minutes they had left of class. All the children ran over to the low shelves where the picture books stood, snatching the ones with the brightest illustrations. Malkia grabbed a large one that she could share with Bernum, lugging it back to where he stood on the edge of the fray. They sat down on the floor together, leaning against the wall, opening up to the first page where there was a full-color picture of a boy facing what looked like ruffians throwing rocks at him, something that caught both Malkia’s and Bernum’s attention immediately. Bernum read the other page aloud, though slowly since they were still beginners in reading, as Malkia listened and followed along. He skipped most of the big words.

The story told about a boy named Dodo who was considered a fool in the village he lived. Mocked and teased, Dodo ran away from those bullying him only to stumble upon a small demon—a kirrel—that had stolen bread from his mother’s window where it was cooling. He chased it into the woods where he found a thatched cottage with an old witch sitting outside, leaning on a cane carved out of a human thighbone. Bernum got excited when he read about how the witch drew a circle in the ground, calling to the birds to land inside, trapping them there for her supper. Malkia got excited when they read about how Dodo had come back a second time, running from ruffians only to witness the witch drawing another circle to protect herself from a bear. They were so entranced, then, by the part where Dodo drew a similar circle to keep the rocks the village bullies shied at him from hitting him. In fact, they stared at that page for some time, sharing a look between them.

But that was when they heard the call to go home. The schoolmaster stood in the library doorway, smiling at them both.

“So, how did you like your first day?” he asked as they walked out the door of the school.

Bernum was the first to reply. “Are we going to learn magic tomorrow?”

Startled, Beyan replied while batting the idea out of his face with blinks, “Magic? Well, no. At school we just learn our letters, our numbers, our history and the laws. But if you are still interested when you are ten years old, you can learn magic then. You can be an apprentice with a magician.”

Bernum glanced at Malkia who frowned.

“But that is way too long from now,” Malkia said.

Beyan now blinked at her, smiling. “Maybe for a child, it may seem that way. But when you get older it won’t. Besides, little ladies do not learn magic. You will be training to run a household when you turn ten.”

Malkia and Bernum shared another look, both of them frowning.

“I don’t want to wait until I am ten years old,” Bernum said. “Why can’t I learn now? I can read already.”

Sighing, Beyan replied, peering into the little boy’s face, “Because magic is much harder than you think it is. It takes years to master it.”

“How would you know?” Bernum set his hands on his hips.

How indeed? Beyan stood uncomfortably, realizing that their town didn’t even have a magician. Such folk either traveled or lived in obscure places.

The twins frowned more at him. Their experience had shown them that adults assumed things that weren’t so all the time. They knew Dennik was no demon just as much as they knew that there had to be a way to help him. After reading about the magic circle that could keep Dennik safe, both Bernum and Malkia vowed with all the energy their innocent hearts could muster (and that was a lot) that they would find every book about magic in their school library and learn how to make a magic circle just like Dodo had.

 

It was years later before Bernum or Malkia found the real spell that could protect their little brother. They had checked out every serious book about magic in the school library, only to find they lacked the details that actually made magic. They just contained stories about magicians, wizards and witches, and plenty on demons.

One of the things they learned about magic was that in Maldos only magicians were respected. Wizards were considered very dangerous given that they could perform magic without spells, and they sometimes caused trouble from their natural power. Witches were hated even more since their magic tended to create more demons than any other magic user. Also, most witches were women, and the twins both learned well that women were not traditionally allowed to do magic. It was considered a man’s job.

The balance of duality in male-female relations also caused the twins some grief. Bernum and Malkia still did everything together, except during their fifth year of school the boys were sent to study different trades to decide under whom they would be taking an apprenticeship and girls were taken aside and given lessons on grace, manners, and keeping house, besides taught the changes a girl went through to become a woman. Malkia started taking her cooking classes, sewing classes, and yarn-work classes. The girls were told that some of them could become assistants to men in the work field if they did not marry, but most were encouraged to gather the graces of ladies so that would never have to be an option. It was clear that though Bernum would be allowed to continue magic learning, Malkia would not. So it was that year that Bernum and Malkia started to go behind the backs of their teachers and schoolmaster to continue their magic education.

The public library had a larger supply of books than the school’s, most of them geared towards adults though there was a tiny children’s section on the second floor. The twins were old enough now to go around town on their own, well aware not to split up in case someone decided to kidnap them. They would go there daily after school. Bernum would ask for the books he wanted and then bring them back to Malkia where they would take turns reading in a corner of the library while the other one took notes. These notes they would take home, then experiment. And as long as their studies in school did not suffer they did not get caught.

By this time, Dennik was hobbling about the pharmacy learning how to mix herbs and minerals to create medicines with their father, educated at home in reading, writing, arithmetic, history and all other things that his brother and sister studied at school. They brought it home to him so that he was on the same level as they were. The town had assumed that Bernum would be taking over the shop since their father had not yet taken an apprentice. But by the end of the twins’ final year in school Bernum made it clear that he had no intention of becoming a pharmacist. In fact, he squared his shoulders and told everyone Dennik would be the new pharmacist.

That horrified a great many people. And when they found out Dennik had been mixing most of the herbs in the shop for the past few years, the Pharmacist’s business dropped once again.

But the Pharmacist merely sighed, budgeted his accounts to run tighter, and waited for when the cold season would start.

The fact was, their father knew of the twins’ pursuit for a cure for Dennik for quite some time. He had sought a cure himself to no avail. There was no herbal remedy for naturally deformed body shapes. So when the twins at last came home with the magic spell that went with the circle the witch had drawn in the storybook, using it to protect Dennik from rocks thrown at him by passersby, the Pharmacist watched them make the protective ward with hope that soon they would discover a method through magic to save his youngest son completely.

*

“Hallo!” called in someone from the road over the back fence to their yard.

The housekeeper glanced back from the line of clothes she was hanging, a clothespin in her mouth, blinking at the stranger’s unusual red robes. Then she drew in a breath. The clothespin dropped to the ground.

“Are you the woman of the house?” the stranger asked. His dark eyes were shining intelligently, his white-teethed grin equaled by his strong posture and confident air. He was clearly someone of importance.

Shaking her head, the housekeeper called out, “Pharmacist! Come out here!”

There were bumps and muted calls back for her to wait a minute. And a minute was about as long as it took for him to actually come out. He was wiping his hands on his apron blinking at the stranger at his gate.

“What can I do for you? Customers usually come to the shop door, not my gate.”

Plucking off his rounded hat, the stranger nodded his moderately graying head in a respectful bow. “My apologies, but uh, I was actually merely passing by when I noticed the marking in your yard. That’s wedged in stone, isn’t it? And the spell written in the ground—it is very well made. Who did it? Did you? And for what purpose?”

The Pharmacist leaned back some, peering at the genial features of this man. He replied, “So many questions. First tell me what is your intent by them?”

Blushing only slightly, the stranger raised his chin and said, “I am Jimmit, Magician of the Highest Order. I run the High Magic School out at Yolund. I have been traveling through the country seeking new apprentices for the school, and I was just at the local schoolhouse where the schoolmaster implied that the Pharmacist had a son that might be interested in learning magic. I was just looking for that street when I saw this amazing hate-ward drawn here. I merely asked why because I seem to be unable to step into it. And for a man like me, it is puzzling to discover such an occurrence when I haven’t even a clue to what it is that I am hating.”

Nodding, the Pharmacist leaked out the slightest smile. “I see.”

Blinking at him, somewhat impatient, Jimmit, the Magician, asked again, “So, who made this hate ward?”

The Pharmacist let out a small chuckle. “My children did. I am the Pharmacist.”

“Oh.” The Magician searched around the yard, inspecting the bare grass, the overgrown flowers that had long been neglected and the open dirt area. “So you have more than one child interested in magic. But uh…why is it that I cannot enter?”

“You hate what all Maldos hate,” the Pharmacist replied with a sigh.

Blinking at him, the Magician waited for the answer.

Sighing once more, the Pharmacist called to the house, “Children, you have a guest!”

Almost immediately, the thunder of feet came from within. Bernum was the first out the door, then Malkia and lastly Dennik. Upon seeing them in succession, the Magician first grinned with delight, then looked puzzled, then looked horrified. He watched as all three stopped next to their father, gazing up at him though Bernum and Malkia recognized his red robes as the official clothes of a certified magician. They both got excited.

The Magician’s eyes turned back onto the twins then compared them to the younger brother Dennik. Slowly he nodded to himself, drew in a breath and let it out. “I see.”

“Are you changing your mind?” the Pharmacist asked.

“No.” The Magician fixed his eyes back on Bernum. “But this does complicate things a smidgen.”

He then reached out to the fence, straining to open it. At first he was repelled by a force much like being slapped away, but after taking several deep breaths and peering hard at Dennik he at last managed to get through and walk in the circle. He opened the gate and bowed to the father.

“My apologies. I see the love of the perfection sent by the gods has accepted this poor child. It would not be right for me to discount it.” He then turned to face Bernum. “I heard you want to be a magician. I am a teacher of magic. Do you wish to come to my school?”

Bernum looked at Malkia who bit her lip with hope. He then looked back at the Magician. “Only if my sister can come with me.”

Jimmit looked to the little girl, sighing. “I wish I could. But my brothers at the High Magic School would not look too highly on teaching a woman their arts.”

“But you have no objections to it?” the Pharmacist asked.

The Magician shook his head. “No. I happen to know a talented—” but as suddenly has he had said it, his eyes brightened and he looked back to Malkia again. “How would you like to learn under an amazing Herbalist?”

“Herbalist?” Malkia repeated. She glanced at her father who was slowly nodding with approval at the idea. She turned back to the magician. “What kind of magic is that?”

Grinning, the Magician replied, “Herbalism is not that different from Pharmacy, only they use magic with their herbs, and they know words to spells that cure disease and other things.”

Malkia’s eyes grew wide. She eagerly turned to Bernum who suddenly looked jealous, for they had not read yet of a magic spell that could cure Dennik properly. The Herbalist sounded promising.

“Can I learn that?” Bernum asked.

Laughing, the Magician grinned at him. “Oh, I see, you don’t want to be just a magician. You want to know it all.”

Blushing Bernum ducked his head.

However, Jimmit the Magician said, “Don’t worry. So do I. I don’t take after those that want to limit themselves. The world is such an amazing place that rejecting one bit of light for another seems foolish.”

“Indeed,” the Pharmacist said, smiling at him. He then extended his arm towards the house. “Won’t you come in and join us for supper? We can discuss the details of their education in a more comfortable setting.”

Bowing, Jimmit graciously walked to the door, even grinning at Dennik. “I’m much obliged.”

They walked inside the house leaving the children outside.

Bernum turned to Dennik whose face revealed a strain of despair. The eight-year-old boy understood the good and the bad of the coming events—the main bad thing being he would lose his only playmates.

“Dennik,” Bernum said, clasping him by his shoulders. “We promise to find a cure for your hands and foot. Then you will be like everyone else.”

 Nodding sheepishly, Dennik followed them into the house.

 

It took a few weeks to get all the arrangements for both Bernum and Malkia’s education set. Jimmit had to write the Herbalist to confirm that Malkia could study under her. Then he had to arrange for the Herbalist to come to Yapan where she could meet with the Pharmacist and his daughter. That actual meeting was startling for all in the Pharmacist’s household.

Her name was Ludy. She walked into the Pharmacy with a swivel at her hips, all her curves on her rounded and slightly dumpy, middle-aged body, her eyes and nails painted the same color, her lips a deep luscious red. Ludy wore dread locks rather than tight curls, all of it wrapped in a gold lame turban on top of her head. She offered a hand to the Pharmacist, fluttering her false eyelashes at him as she gazed almost lustfully at his face. He nearly backed into the wall, sneaking glances at Jimmit who was grinning with pleasure at seeing Ludy again.

“How do you do?” she said with a throaty voice. “I am Ludy the Midwife, who has come as called.”

Malkia just stared at him, her hand clasping Bernum’s somewhat tightly.

The Pharmacist hardly shook the tips of her fingers before she swiveled over to Malkia, taking hold of her chin, tipping the girl’s head to the side.

“You have a beautiful daughter,” Ludy said, grinning a white-toothed smile, her eyes inspecting Malkia’s face very intently. “Is she really as talented as my friend Jimmit says she is?”

Gently taking hold of Ludy’s wrist, the Pharmacist firmly pulled her hand from his child’s face. “Understand this—any harm that comes to my daughter, any false teaching, and I will make certain that you suffer for it.”

Laughing with shock and a glance at the Magician, Ludy pulled her hand from the Pharmacist’s grip. “Really…with this kind of reception…I—”

“Please excuse him,” Jimmit said, stepping in between them. “But you have forgotten yourself also. This child is a twin. Therefore she is precious.”

Blinking at Malkia then Bernum, Ludy pulled back. Bernum was glaring at her, his teeth clenched. Malkia had already ducked behind him.

Blinking more, Ludy lifted her chin then sighed. “Oh. I see. Well, in that case I will take especial care with her.”

She cast a glance at the Pharmacist.

“Though it wasn’t like I wasn’t going to do that anyway. I know how rare it is to find a child with magical aptitude—especially a girl willing to face all the persecution that will come for being a practitioner of magic.” Ludy leaned in towards Malkia. “Which is what will happen if they find out you

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 21.02.2018
ISBN: 978-3-7554-7866-9

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