Nathaniel Hawnthor – Sacred Fire

Deep in a dark and ancient chamber gathered three figures who wore fine robes of silk the colors of violet and sapphire. Glittering stars and crescent moons were stitched into the fine fabric, hoods were drawn over their heads, and each one wore a unique exotic mask. The chamber was massive, and ancient glyphs and symbols had been carved into the very stone itself, forming a line pointing toward the center, where a massive circle was located. High above the floor, built into the dome ceiling, was an opening that allowed a clear view of the night sky above. Dawn was fast approaching, and they were eager to begin with their task at hand. They silently gathered at the circle, where they would perform an ancient rite of passage as they had done centuries before. Little did they know that it would be their last.

“Once in another age and another time, the world was filled with an eternal wonder that would never be seen again. A great power beyond imagination kept watch over the world and all its inhabitants.”

The three wizards lifted their arms high into the air, and a secret door opened within the floor circle, causing a huge crystal to rise out of the air shaft.

“For well over a thousand years, the ancient Wizards of Camlon would gather in sacred chambers, where they would embrace the great power of the Fire Crystals so the world may remain free and plentiful. The greatest among these wizards were Astaron the Great, Lonkaro the Bold, and Anamara the Brave. Together, they formed a tribulation of strength unmatched by any force in the world.”

The crystal levitated above the shaft of air and fire, and began to glow a deep shade of orange and red. All three wizards then lowered their arms, took each other’s hands, and began chanting in a secret language that only they understood. The massive crystal between them continued to glow and pulse with pure power.

“It was their sacred duty to safeguard the world from all dangers and protect the Sacred Fire from those who would use it for their selfish desires. For the fire was the very life-giving blood of the earth, bringing life and death. To protect the Sacred Fire was to protect life itself, a task that had been passed down from generation to generation. Through the power of the Fire Crystals, the world continued to remain magical, and people lived in a simple yet flourishing way of life.”

The wizards continued to chant their ancient rite of passage, and the crystal suddenly spewed a beam of light that exited through the wide opening in the ceiling. After awhile, the middle one, who stood taller than the other two, began to slow down. His movements became stiff, and he had trouble keeping up with the others.

“As a millennium passed, much of the world grew to resent the old ways and embraced more modern ways of life, completely abandoning the traditions of old. As years passed and the world modernized, the magic began to slip away. People soon forgot the great wonders that had once been common knowledge, and it all transformed into myth and legend. The almighty power that governed the old world grew feeble over time. As the traditions dwindled, so did the number of wizards, and their powers began to fade. Once, there were many wizards in the world, and now only three remain. The ritual they had once performed many times before to give the world and themselves life now dwindles and brings no comfort to them today.”

The tallest wizard in the circle suddenly let go of the other wizards’ hands and stumbled back while clutching his chest. He collapsed onto the ground, and the other two wizards stopped the ritual and rushed over to him.

“Now, the greatest of the remaining three wizards lay dying, unable to continue with the ritual and death circling above him. Without his strength, the ritual cannot continue, and the world will no longer be able to receive the power of the Sacred Fire.”

The huge fire crystal stopped emitting light and darkened in color until it turned a deep shade of black. It then slipped back into the shaft of air and fire, and the massive circular door sealed the shaft shut.

“With the eldest of the wizards dying, it was only a matter of time before the magic of the world would be snuffed out forever and pass onto myth. It was something that the wizards were unable to accept.”

Astaron began to convulse and moan in agony while Anamara clutched his hand tight, attempting to bring comfort to her dying mentor. Meanwhile, Lonkaro stood by watching, then stepped closer to Astaron and looked down upon him.

“He will die tonight, Anamara,” he stated bluntly in their native language.

“No,” Anamara replied with denial in her voice. “He must live! The power of the Fire Crystals will extinguish without him!”

As Astaron continued to gasp for air, Lonkaro’s rage became apparent as he clenched his left hand into a fist.

“It’s all their fault! The mortals have driven him to his grave!”

“He will live,” Anamara said with sadness in her voice. “He’s going to live!”

Lonkaro continued to seethe, and Astaron took Anamara’s hand and spoke in a very weak voice.

“Listen to me, Anamara,” he demanded with raspy breath. “Before the sun sets, I will pass on. Before I do, you must promise me that you will look after Lonkaro. He is not himself. Soon, he will surrender to darker forces, and you must promise to never give up on him. Promise me this!”

Anamara lowered her gaze and replied, “I will, Master!”

Astaron gasped for air and clutched at his chest.

“As the wizard drew his final breath, he spoke one final testament to both of his disciples, leaving them with one last legacy.”

“In another age, in another life, in another land, my spirit shall endure,” Astaron gasped. “At the pinnacle of that time, the three of us shall be reunited once more! On that day, we shall know battle and we shall know peace.”

Astaron suddenly stopped gasping, and soon his heart quit beating. His hand slid from Anamara’s, and he grew as silent as a tomb. As Anamara held him in her arms, Lonkaro took a deep breath before speaking bluntly.

“Astaron the Great is no more.”

Anamara said nothing, and Lonkaro departed from the chamber never to return.

“Years soon passed since the death of Astaron the Great. Despite what Anamara promised her old friend and mentor, she was unable to keep her word. She could not cope with the loss of such a mentor, and retreated far from the world of magic and light. Anamara chose to become part of the new modern world, and decided to live among its inhabitants, forsaking all ties to the Sacred Fire.”

A cloaked woman with her hood drawn climbed into the back of a turnip cart and adjusted herself. Her face was hidden from view and she tapped the side of the cart, signaling the driver that she was ready. As the cart moved, Anamara drew a small flagon from her worn garments and took a sip of its contents. They traveled north down an old pathway toward the world of men, while Anamara sulked over the life she was leaving behind.

“While Anamara turned her back on the world of magic, Lonkaro retreated even deeper into his despair and gave himself fully to the unholy teachings of the Black Arts.”

Lonkaro sat at a desk with several tables around him covered with old parchment, alchemy instruments, and other strange devices made of glass and brass. He was down deep in a cavern with a great fissure in the earth that exposed a river of magma. Lonkaro was dressed in dark-colored robes of black and silver, and was reading through the pages of a very old book.

“With the power of the Sacred Fire, Lonkaro sought to forge Fire Crystals of his own so he could use them to increase his unnatural power. With only one place remaining that had access to the fire, he spent the next few years attempting to manipulate the fire to obey his commands and bring forth a power so great he could wipe out the race of mortal men with one strike. With his powers growing, Anamara could no longer turn her back. She challenged her old friend and ally Lonkaro to single combat, and the winner would decide the fate of all mankind.”

Up on an ancient mountain, the two wizards stood across from each other locked in an epic duel. Around them were old white stone ruins and pillars of marble that had once been part of a sacred gathering place for all wizards. Clouds of thunder and lightning raged above them, and parts of the ruins were on fire. Lonkaro was enveloped with violet-colored light and was thrashing his arms forward, causing whips of light to strike repeatedly at Anamara. In her defense, Anamara continuously created circles of sky-blue light and repeatedly blocked the attacking whips of light. Both wizards had physical injuries and were bleeding in several places.

“Upon the hall of the White Peak, they dueled for dominance over the greater wizarding world. Lonkaro was older and stronger than Anamara and far more experienced. He was without a doubt the greater wizard.”

The attack became too much for Anamara, and her rings shattered like glass when Lonkaro thrust his fist through the air. She collapsed down, shouting in pain; and before Lonkaro could make the killing stroke, he too shouted in pain and fell to his knees. The whips of light faded, and the violet aura around him began to flicker.

“Yet he underestimated the physical cost the Black Arts would have on him, and it made him vulnerable.”

Anamara wasted no time in making short work of her opponent. She used the last of her strength to summon a bolt of lighting from the sky above. As she held up her arms, the lightning came down hard and struck Lonkaro, causing him to howl in anguish. When Anamara stopped the attack, she gasped for air and weakly made her way over to Lonkaro’s now smoldering body. He was burned and was barely clinging to life. Then in the span of a single moment, Anamara chose to spare Lonkaro’s life and turned her back on him. She remembered the words of her master, and decided she would not forsake his memory by killing her old friend.

“You are a fool to allow me to live, Anamara,” Lonkaro choked while spitting a glob of blood. “You should kill me now while you have the chance!”

“Not today, Lonkaro,” Anamara replied.

“On that day, Anamara chose to walk away from her fallen enemy for the sake of her master’s final wish.”

* * *

“Victor! Victor, where are you?”

“I’m here!”

Victor closed the book he had been reading, got up off the ground, and dusted his apron off. He tucked his book under his arm and opened the door of the broom cupboard, then switched off the dangling bulb above him.

“Victor Javier Calixto Varagas! I swear if you’re in the broom cupboard again…”

“Mama, I’m not in the cupboard. I was on break! I’ll be there in a second!”

As he exited the cupboard, he closed it behind him and quickly hid his book inside a locker located in the break room. The only other person in there was one of his co-workers, Bryan. He was an old man with saggy fair skin and startling blue eyes. Bryan didn’t seem to notice Victor coming out of his reading spot, and was eating his lunch at a snail’s pace. No one knew exactly how old he was, but one sure thing was that he looked and moved like a sloth. Victor closed his locker, checked his wristwatch, and muttered a swear.

“¡Juro que ya no tengo tiempo! (I swear I don’t have time for this!)”

He walked out of the break room and back into the store. Marko, his father and boss, was scribbling down information on a clipboard. Without even looking up, the man with a thick black mustachio and a balding head scolded his son.

“I needed you to sort out the inventory so we will be ready to file for the next order from the vendors,” Marko said with a frown on his face. “I need you to take more responsibility, Victor!”

“I am, Papa!” he protested while stepping up to the employee switchboard. After typing in his employee number, he clocked back in. “I took care of the inventory this morning. Besides, I was only five minutes past my break.”

Marko looked up from his clipboard and held up a spreadsheet. “Then why is the form for next year’s inventory filled out and not the one for this year?”

Victor realized his mistake, covered his face, and replied, “I’m so sorry, Papa! I’ll fix it up!”

“Just go help Julio unload the truck. We just got a shipment in, and he can’t operate the lift with his cast.”

Marko went back to scribbling on his clipboard. Victor wanted to say something but could tell his dad wasn’t listening, so he sighed and nodded his head.

“Yes, Dad.”

He softly jogged toward the back of the store, where he passed by several customers and other employees. In reference to their Guatemalan heritage, the store was designed to look like the village from which Hector’s family originated. The shelves and isles were themed a certain way with exotic statues posted at the front of every rack. Colorful buildings and ancient murals of past centuries from Central America had been painted on the store walls along with a great volcano towering above the village of Victor’s family. The back of the store featured a special Mayan pyramid, which towered above the shelves stacked with Victor’s grandmother’s specially made hot sauce.

At the back loading dock, he found a massive truck already parked with the back open. Julio, his cousin, was attempting to lift objects from it despite only having one operational arm. Once he spotted Victor, he grinned and set a box of produce down.

“Victor, my man! I could sure use some help with this.”

Looking around, Victor noticed the forklift was missing.

“Where is the forklift?”

“The transmitter blew, so Uncle Marko had a part ordered in. Won’t be here till tomorrow. Everything’s gotta be moved with the pallet jack.”

Upon seeing the size of the produce on the pallets, Victor rolled his eyes and went back inside to get the jack. Thankfully, it wasn’t a huge load, so he only had to move a few pallets out of the truck. It was still heavy duty, and his back and shoulders ached by the time he was done. Julio, on the other hand, wasn’t sore at all. He had spent the whole time watching. Victor dropped a pallet off, and Julio got to work cutting the plastic wrap free. By the time it was all done, Victor needed to take a seat on a nearby chair and stretch his muscles.

“You okay, cuz?” Julio asked with a smile.

Victor sighed. “I am fine! I just need a rest.”

Julio chuckled and took a seat beside his cousin. In Victor’s opinion, he was not cut out for retail work. Everything about him just put off a different vibe, from his constantly gelled hair to his fancy jewelry and classic sports car. Victor shared some resemblance with his cousin in terms of dark skin and thin, tall body builds – except Julio’s hair was cut and gelled back, while Victor had shoulder-length wavy locks. They were both seventeen and quite handsome. Julio was the better-looking of them and undoubtedly more successful with girls.

Julio got up from his chair, opened for them two glass bottles of Kola, and took two trips to carry the drinks over to where they were sitting. After Victor thanked him and took a sip, Julio sat down and replied, “I heard Aunt Lola complaining about you earlier. What was that all about?”

Victor took a sip of his drink before he explained. “I was five minutes past my break time.”

Julio looked confused. “Why, what were you doing?”

“Reading in the broom cupboard.”

Julio suddenly grinned, leaned toward Victor, and made a bad joke.

“Uh oh! Better watch out! You don’t want Aunt Lola and Uncle Marko to see you coming out of the closet!”

Victor was unable to help chuckling and softly punched Julio in the arm. He was careful to avoid hitting his cast. “Shut up!”

After Julio laughed some more and took another sip of his drink, he leaned back in his chair. “What were you reading, anyway?”

Victor lifted his brow and was a bit hesitant to answer. “Just an old book.”

“Duh, I knew that. Well, come on, man, what book was it?”

“Sacred Fire,” Victor answered, then took a sip of his drink. “It’s an ancient manuscript first written by a forgotten author nearly a millennium ago.”

Julio nodded. “Nice! I remember reading that book in Ms. Romay’s class; we had to read it for our AP Study Assignment. So, did you just snatch up an old copy or something?”

“Not exactly,” Victor replied. “It was sort of a present.”

“From whom?”

Victor took a sip of his drink and didn’t answer. The intercom came online, and Victor’s mother, Lola, came on the speaker.

“Victor, you are needed on register five! Victor on register five!”

After setting his drink down, Victor straightened out his apron and said, “Make sure you remember to file all the new inventory. Papa will blow a gasket if I screw up a second time today.”

Julio saluted him and continued sitting around drinking his Kola. Victor rushed back into the store and stepped up to register five. All the other registers were busy, and the moment Victor switched on the light, a flood of customers approached his line. The sudden influx of customers forced him to work at a higher-than-usual speed. Thankfully, he had a bagger to help him this time, so all he had to do was check out the produce. By the time the line started to die down, Victor felt a relaxing wave of relief. He got to the final customers in line, one of whom was a girl around his age with a thin, angular face and light blonde hair all tied up and a cap on her head. She had enticing dark eyes the color of night, and smiled at the sight of him.

“They keeping you busy?”

“You have no idea! I screwed up an inventory form, so my dad is quite upset with me.”

“Oh no!” the girl replied. “Hopefully, it all got fixed.”

“My dad took care of it,” Victor replied with defeat in his voice. “I’m going to pay for it later.”

The girl smiled. “Well, if you need some company, I’m not doing anything later. I’ll be down at the hill.”

Victor smiled. “Thanks, Ava!”

She grinned, then gathered her bagged grocery items and departed from the store. Victor watched her leave and went back to bagging groceries with a smirk on his face.

Afterward, when his shift ended, Victor clocked out, put away his apron, and grabbed his bag. He rushed out to his car and drove a few miles from town until he reached the county park and made his way up to a small hill in the center of the area. Ava was already waiting and sitting down, watching the stars above.

“Sorry I’m late,” Victor said while taking a seat beside Ava. “I had to squelch the dairy aisle again!”

“It’s fine, Victor,” Ava assured him with a smile. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Victor adjusted himself, relaxed, and watched the stars alongside Ava, as they had been doing since their first day of high school. They liked to use this spot as an escape from their troubles back home. Victor brought his bag around and pulled out the book he had been reading earlier, bound in old red leather and with gold glossy designs on the cover.

“I never got a chance to thank you for this.”

Ava smiled again. “You’re welcome, Victor! I know how much you love old fairy tales, so I thought it would be perfect. Plus, I needed to make up for missing your birthday last week.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” he assured her while slipping the book back into his bag. “It wasn’t as if I had an army of friends over or anything. My mom just made a cake, and I had some cousins over.”

“What did you think of the book?” Ava asked while turning toward him.

Victor sighed and replied, “Honestly, I discovered it to be quite intriguing, especially because it is a story about magic, dwarves, fair folk, and even wizards.”

Ava smiled and seemed pleased. “The man at the shop told me it would be a great read.”

“The shop? Oh, you mean Mr. Korlak’s store down on 32^nd?”

“That’s the one! You know how he has all sorts of strange and unique items in there. He told me this one would make a great gift.”

Victor nodded and folded his hands together. “It kind of reminded me of that time when we were kids, and we all were playing in my abuela’s backyard.”

Ava smiled. “You mean when we found the Fairy Circle? Yeah, I remember that well! You and Julio were making mudpies, and I found that weird mushroom circle.”

“Well, it just so happens that is what a Fairy Circle is,” Julio explained. “It’s an old British term for when a line of mushrooms grows in a perfect circle. That, plus fairies are sometimes present at the circle.”

Ava laughed. “Well, we saw something that day at the circle, and it wasn’t hummingbirds or butterflies like your mom said.”

Victor smiled and messed with his fingernails. “I guess that’s part of the reason why I have developed a fascination for this kind of stuff.”

“It’s not just stuff, Victor,” Ava assured him with a serious tone. “We saw fairies that day just like how Julio saw gnomes at that place down in Mexico ya’ll call the Midnight Meadows.”

Victor laughed, not having thought about Julio’s gnomes in a while.

“You know, I still wonder sometimes if he’s messing with me or if he believes he saw gnomes during that trip.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” Ava admitted.

“You know, I was thinking, Ava, and…

She looked at him again. “Yes, Victor?”

For whatever reason, he found it impossible to articulate the words he wanted to. They choked him up, and Ava continued to patiently wait for him to speak. Eventually, Victor was forced to give up.

“Nothing! It is nothing!”

Ava appeared confused but ended up shaking her head and leaning against him. “You’re simply hopeless sometimes, Victor! I swear, simply hopeless!”

Victor smiled and leaned back against her. “I know, Ava! I know!”

Days had passed. Things were exceptionally busy at the store, and Victor was trying to get a handle on the apple and pear produce, scribbling down notes on a clipboard. While working, he was suddenly approached by a middle-aged woman with chin-length blonde hair, a power suit, and a big pair of shades.

“Hey kid,” she said while tapping him softly on the shoulder. “Have you got any fresh prunes in stock?”

Victor looked up from his clipboard and thought about it for a moment. “We should have some back on aisle seventeen.”

The woman nodded. “Thanks a lot.”

She was about to leave but stopped and looked at him. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Victor was initially confused but suddenly recognized the woman after getting a better look at her. “You’re Rhonda Roth, aren’t you? The realtor? Your signs are everywhere.”

Rhonda lifted her brow and removed her sunglasses, revealing startling blue eyes. “Smokin’, huh? Yeah, you’re the kid who cleaned out my chimney last month.”

Victor chuckled as he thought back on that time. “You had a dead raccoon stuck in the shaft. It took me an hour to dig the carcass out.”

Rhonda smiled and replied, “You were quite resourceful, I’ll give you that! Your father is Marko Varagas, isn’t he?”

Victor nodded.

“That’s right; I handled his purchase agreement when he bought the land to build this store! How is your father, by the way?”

“He’s doing well. Business is going great, so he’s talked about buying another lot to open a second location.”

Rhonda nodded and put her shades back on. “Well, if he ever needs help with anything, send him my way.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to Victor. “Here’s my card.”

After he accepted it with thanks, Rhonda walked away. Julio hauled a crate full of pears to the aisle and flipped it over, filling up the pear section. He shook his head upon seeing Rhonda near the exit.

“Damn! That is one fine woman, considering her age!”

Victor smiled and went back to work. “She is an attractive woman,” he admitted as he continued writing. “She also owns half the empty lots in the county.”

Julio folded his crate. “I was talking to Griffon, who told me she just sold a 7,000 square-foot mansion to some celebrity in Brenwood.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest! I only know her because I was walking down the street, and she needed someone to clean the chimney for an open house. She paid me a hundred dollars to climb onto the roof and clear it out.”

Julio shook his head. “Didn’t realize you were that hard up for cash.”

A boy no older than eleven walked toward Victor, and leaned against the orange stand. He had a headful of bright red hair, a pointy nose, and sea-green eyes.

“Hey, Victor!”

“Rowan,” Victor said in a surprised tone, “aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“What are you talking about?” Rowan replied with a confused look. “It’s Saturday!”

Victor thought about it for a moment. “Right! I had forgotten. What’s up?”

Rowan stuck his hands into his hoodie pockets. “I want to get a gift for my mom’s birthday, but the shop I want to go to is on the other side of town. I’m not allowed to go that far by myself, so I thought…”

“Yeah,” Victor said before Rowan could finish, “I’ll take you there myself as soon as my shift ends.”

Rowan smiled. “Thanks, Victor!”

Victor nodded. “Anything for my best friend.”

He kicked at the floor before rushing off. Julio lifted a brow and shook his head, then returned to work.

Later, after his shift, Victor put his things away and met outside with Rowan, who was waiting in the parking lot. When Victor got out, he held out his hand and fist-bumped Rowan before they climbed into Victor’s car. They pulled out of the parking lot and into the main street that led further out of town. Brenshire was a quiet, peaceful area without a lot of action or excitement. Crime wasn’t a big issue, and they only lived about an hour away from L.A. Despite being a peaceful town, it was a dying one. Aside from a few convenience stores and maybe the odd old mini-mall, there wasn’t a lot to do in Brenshire. Most people went to Burbank or to L.A. itself if they were looking for something to do in their spare time.

The roads themselves were cracked with age, and there were a few fast-food locations along with a used car lot when they drove down 14^th Street. Victor even spotted, to his surprise, a mime performing for a crowd of spectators. Once they turned a corner and got closer to 29^th Street, he asked what shop Rowan wanted to visit, and the answer was Korlak.

“Nice,” Victor replied. “My mom’s a huge collector of antiques, and she’s often bought an item or two from him.”

“So is my mom,” Rowan replied while swinging his feet. “That’s why I’m getting a gift for her from that place.”

His feet accidentally kicked an object under his seat, and when Rowan reached under to pull out whatever it was, he found a large book. It was bound in faded red leather and had an impressive display of gold designs on the cover. He immediately opened it up and started to browse through it.

“What’s this?”

Victor took a glance and replied, “Just a gift Ava gave me. She also acquired it from Wilmor Korlak’s shop.”

Rowan continued browsing the pages and took a legitimate interest. “What’s it about?”

“The story of three wizards who harness the power of the Sacred Fire, the life-giving element of the world, and attempt to use it to keep the world magical and free. The oldest of them dies, and the remaining two go their own way. One seeks out everlasting life and power and becomes an evil dark wizard. The other turns her back on magic and tries to live life without power.”

Rowan looked up at Victor and replied, “That’s cool!”

Victor nodded in agreement. “I’ve read that book twice now, and it still amazes me every time.”

Rowan closed the book up and had one more question. “Do you think any of it really happened?”

“It’s just a story, Rowan,” Victor assured him.

“Yeah, I know, but do you think any of it might be real? My teacher, Mr. Veron, says most stories are based on real-life events and either tell us everything that happened or is a work of fiction based on real things.”

Victor sighed and had to think of an answer. “Well, he’s not wrong. Myths are usually based on legends, which are based on stories told by people who have seen things in their life.”

When Victor glanced at Rowan, he saw the boy was being serious and expected a sincere answer. “Honestly, I don’t know, Rowan! I wasn’t there when all those events might have taken place. Maybe magic is just a fantasy, maybe it is not. I have no idea!”

Rowan sighed and appeared disappointed. That was the last thing Victor wanted, so he continued speaking.

“I do know that miracles happen in this world all the time. People might call them coincidences, but I have seen a lot of things in my life that science could not explain. My family is Catholic, so they believe everything happens for a reason. I say anything is possible, and to answer your question: yes, I believe there is a chance there might have once been a great power in this world, and I believe it would have been so long ago that everyone forgot.”

Rowan’s face lit up. “You believe that?”

Victor nodded. “Without question.”

When they arrived at their destination, Victor pulled up to an ancient antique shop with a rotting sign hanging above the entrance. There were gold letters painted on the sign that spelled Korlak’s Antiques, but the paint was so faded and chipped it was hard to tell. The building itself was about three stories tall with a rotting shingle roof. Two large glass pane windows on either side of the door had items in view that gave Victor the creeps. There was a headless mannequin doll in the left window and what looked like a real human skull in the right window. It was almost too creepy for Victor to go in, but Rowan walked right up and tried the door. It opened easily, and a bell rang.

“Hello!” Victor said as he walked inside.

No one answered initially, and when they looked around, Rowan made a face at the sight of a shriveled doll. It had a plume of feathers on its head and button-stitched eyes.

“What is it?”

“That is an early nineteenth-century Zanzu doll from the bayous of Louisiana,” a voice said from nearby. “I acquired it from a wise shaman from the swamps, who sold it for a very decent price.”

When Rowan and Victor both turned their heads, they saw a man who appeared to be well past his youth, featuring a balding head with a few tufts of hair clinging to the sides. He wore a green vest over a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of spectacles on his nose. A long wooden pipe was in his hand, and he was smoking.

“Is there anything I can help you boys with?”

“Um,” Rowan began while sticking his hands into his pockets. He looked nervous and kept glancing up at Victor for help. “Well, we, uh…”

“We’re looking for a birthday present for his mother,” Victor explained while placing his hands on Rowan’s shoulders. He glanced down and nodded at Rowan, then continued to speak for him. “She likes stuff like fine china or old Victorian-age lamps.”

The man lifted his thick, bushy brow. “Is that so? Well, I have a fine collection of china specially imported from war-torn Germany. Perhaps she would enjoy something like that.”

“Yeah,” Rowan nervously replied, “I think she would.”

After he released another puff of smoke, the corners of Wilmar’s mouth moved, creating a chilling smile. “If you have any other questions, be sure to let me know.” He walked away to the other side of his shop, leaving Rowan and Victor alone.

When he was out of range, Rowan shivered and acted as if he had just suffered a horrible ordeal. “Man, that was creepy!”

“What are you talking about?”

Rowan turned toward Victor and gestured with his hands. “Oh, come on Victor, you weren’t creeped out? This is just like that time I saw Old Maron in her house eating crickets!”

Victor was perplexed and tried to figure out what Rowan was talking about. “You mean Maron Collin from down the street?”

Rowan nodded.

“Oh, come on Rowan! I know eating crickets is weird, but a lot of outside cultures do this. The Chinese eat chicken feet for breakfast.”

“Gross,” Rowan commented.

“Yeah, I know it’s disgusting, but I hardly think that makes Ms. Collin a witch like everyone is saying.”

Rowan shook his head and waved his hand. “Believe what you want, but I know what I saw that day, and spiders were crawling through her hair when I went to look. Plus, the freaky weird lights that come out of her basement windows sometimes. It’s why I quit my paper route.”

“Look, I know she’s strange but that hardly makes her Baba Yaga!”

This time, Rowan was at a loss. “Who?”

“You know, Baba Yaga, the creepy old witch from Slavic Folklore? She chases children in a giant walking house?”

“Oh! Right, right, I remember that one! Well, I’m gonna look at the china sets. I’ll meet you after.”

“Great!”

When Rowan left to search for a present, Victor sighed and took some time to look around. The store was a bit creepy, but still had some interesting items in it. Most of the room was illuminated by weak fluorescent lights, and the shelves were old and dusty. There were rows of books from every decade, and what caught Victor’s attention was a small lamp-like object resting atop a crystal plate. It was a strange metallic object with a collection of glass slides painted like a mosaic.

“That is an Illumigraph created by a French Inventor Pierre Monventell from 1892,” Wilmar explained from behind. He continued to puff his pipe and had an intrigued expression. “It was the world’s very first form of movie projection and animation! Sadly, this is not the original, it is merely a replica created in 1910. I acquired it long ago during my journey through the Mediterranean.”

Victor nodded. Wilmar reached out and turned a knob on the device; once it was cranked up, it came to life and began to rotate the glass panels. The center of the device opened, and a small light bulb came out, illuminating the glass. Colorful images and a short animation of a dancing jester were projected on the wall through a small focusing lens, and Victor was hardly able to believe his eyes. He could never have imagined something so extraordinary would have existed back then.

“It’s like magic!” Victor said with amazement in his voice.

His remark caused Wilmar to chuckle as he took his pipe from his mouth and blew out a few more smoke rings.

“Indeed, it is! Forgive me, but when you told me your name, I seem to recall a young lady visiting my shop earlier this month inquiring after a gift for a young man named Victor. Would that by any chance be yourself?”

“Of course,” Victor replied smilingly. “You must have spoken with Ava!”

“That’s the one,” Wilmar replied while sticking his pipe back into his mouth. “She told me you have a fascination for old folklore and fairy tale legends, so I recommended the book…”

“Sacred Fire,” Victor finished.

Wilmar nodded. “It is most definitely a story unlike any other. One of fellowship, betrayal, the end of an era – and more importantly, a reflection on what this world would look like without the persistent meddling of men.”

When he stuck his pipe back into his mouth, he blew out a few smoke rings, and Victor was unsure of how to respond. He agreed with most of what Wilmar said, but wasn’t so sure about the comment about humans.

“I don’t know! I thought it was a great story, better than most other stories I’ve ever read.”

“Is that so?” Wilmar asked while releasing a puff of smoke. “Well, I am certainly glad that you enjoyed it. So few people have faith in anything anymore, magic included! I find it ironic because many people want a magical solution to their problems, and yet none believe in the phenomenon.”

“Do you?” Victor asked.

Wilmar smiled, then puffed one last drag. “I think there is a little magic in all of us if we are willing to acknowledge it. I’ve traveled many places in my time on earth and seen more wonders than any man living. In all that time, I’ve never seen anything to disprove that a greater power governs us all!”

With those words, Wilmar departed and moved to another part of the store. Victor was left wondering what the shopkeeper had meant, but quickly returned to the task of finding a present for Rowan’s mother. Then he suddenly got a feeling that he had never experienced before. It was a tingling sensation in the back of his neck. When he turned toward one of the hallways, the tingling got stronger. Victor walked into that hallway, and the tingling intensified. He entered another room filled with old-timey clocks and odd-looking instruments. A podium set up with a massive book was at the back of the room. It was bound in fine leather and had silver glossy lines.

Victor felt like fire was running down his neck, and strangely, the sensation went away when he got close to the stand. He reached out, touched the cover and opened the book, which was filled with various symbols, charts, lines of text, and some of the best medieval-style comics he had ever seen.

“Wow!” He browsed through some pages. The further into the book he got, the more intriguing the contents became, so he began to read some of the lines of the text, attempting to find more context.

“Through the power of the Sacred Fire came seven Fire Crystals and seven wizards to guard each crystal. The greatest of this holy alliance was Astaron the Great, whose power will remain forever eternal through the ravages of time.”

Victor turned another page and saw what looked like a symbol in the shape of a crescent moon with a burst of stars around it. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt some connection with the symbol, and when he placed his fingertips against it, he suddenly felt a jolt shoot through his fingers. It was quickly followed by visions of far-off places and people he had never seen or known before. He saw a robed figure waving around a staff and a great burning fire that was blinding. When everything returned to normal, Victor stumbled back and was nearly out of breath.

“You okay, Victor?” Rowan asked while entering the room.

“Rowan,” he replied while gesturing for him to come closer, “come check it out! You’ll never guess what happened!”

“What?” the boy asked with confusion.

“Check out this book! It’s almost like it’s magical or something!”

Rowan approached the podium and took a look but shook his head. “What are you talking about? It’s just a blank book!”

“Well, it actually…wait, what?”

Rowan sighed. “Is this some kind of joke?”

This time, Victor was quite confused. “Rowan, what are you talking about? There’s writing and comics all over the pages! See?”

He flipped through a few pages; but for some reason, Rowan acted as if there was nothing there.

“Victor, are you okay? My teacher said something about having a mental breakdown. Are you sure you’re not having one?”

“No, I swear I’m not; it’s just…”

“Have you boys found what you’re looking for?”

Rowan and Victor turned around, and Wilmar stood at the doorway with a gift bag in his hand.

“Oh, we were just browsing,” Victor assured him while tapping Rowan.

“Yeah, what he said,” Rowan added.

Wilmar smiled and replied, “Very well! Don’t forget your purchase, Rowan. We wouldn’t want your mother to be without a gift for her birthday, now would we?”

Rowan nervously laughed. As soon as he had accepted the gift bag, the two friends hurried out of the store with Rowan breathing a sigh of relief.

* * *

Later that week, Victor was on his break and attempting to make himself some tea. For whatever reason, the burner wasn’t working and when he tried to fix it, nothing seemed to help. After muttering a few swears, he switched off the gas, then turned it back on and lit a match in the hope of igniting the flames. Without warning, the burner spewed a jet of flames, causing Victor to shout and wave his hand about.

Instead of getting burned like one would expect, his hand waved across the flames, causing them to subside and form into a ball above his palm. Victor’s eyes widened with shock as he held the fireball and remained unharmed.

“Awesome!”

He carefully closed his fingers into a fist, and the fire subsided when his hand was shut. When he opened his hand again, there were no more flames; and when Victor turned around, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Bryan was sitting at one of the break room tables and had been watching the entire time. His eyes were blank, but he blinked and asked a basic question.

“Kevin, do we have doc review today?”

Victor breathed a sigh of relief. Bryan unfortunately had a case of dementia and was always getting people’s names wrong. The chances of him remembering what he had just seen or telling anyone were very slim. Plus who was going to believe him? Victor continued to stare at his hand and began to wonder what else he was capable of doing.

When he wasn’t at school or working, Victor decided to test the limits of his abilities. Late at night, he would sit in his room attempting to do certain things. Once he placed a candle on his desk and soon realized that if he concentrated hard enough, the wick would suddenly ignite, meaning he could create fire.

On another occasion when he was busy doing the dishes alone, he tried using his powers again. He concentrated until he felt the odd buzzing sensation in his skull; and when he focused his sight on the sink, the dishes began to move and wash themselves. The sponge would scrub, and the dishes would float into the side with water and rinse themselves off before dropping into the drying rack. Victor felt an odd tingling sensation in his head and his fingers, and was hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

“This is something else!”

Over time, he became more efficient with his abilities and was able to do many more basic tasks without having to put in much effort. When it came to finishing chores, doing a parlor trick or two was quite easy. Eventually, he got to the point where he wanted to try something much harder. He sat in his room, and after he was sure everyone else was asleep, he placed both his hands together. When he pulled them apart, he created an orb of white colored wind that was very small in the beginning. He knitted his brow in concentration and attempted to make the orb larger. Papers on his desk began to flutter and stuff started moving around as the wind grew stronger.

Eventually, he created an orb the size of a grapefruit, and his whole room was filled with a gust of bursting wind. Victor laughed and when he slammed his palms together, a massive gust of wind exploded outward, knocking a lot of his things over and sending Victor onto his back. When several of his items fell onto the floor, his mother’s voice suddenly called to him from outside.

“Victor, what the hell are you doing in there?”

“Nothing, mama,” he assured her as he sat up in his bed. Victor glanced at his hands and was unable to help smiling. “Nothing at all!”

When Monday came, he had a very important job to take care of. He went straight to Rhonda’s office to pick up some paperwork his father needed to sign so he could buy the lot he wanted for his new store location.

Rhonda was sitting at her desk working on a computer, and when Victor knocked, she looked up at him and smiled, saying, “Hey kid, you here for the paperwork?”

Victor nodded, and Rhonda got up from her chair to pick up a manila envelope. She walked around her desk, handed it to Victor, and gave him a few last-minute instructions.

“Make sure your father files things directly through my office. If he has any questions, he shouldn’t hesitate to call me. This is quite a business leap, and there’s no telling what the future may hold.”

“Yeah, but the future isn’t always bad, is it?”

Rhonda sighed and replied, “I don’t know. I’m not a sibyl. I don’t have a magic deck of cards that can tell your fate or anything like that. Your future is whatever you decide it is. Always remember that, kid!”

Victor nodded, and Rhonda smiled while placing a hand on his shoulder. Her cold, startling eyes pierced his soul, and she gave a final message that almost sounded like a warning.

“Take great care with your prospects, Victor! Not everything is as it seems.”

Victor felt a chill run down his spine, and he smiled, promising Rhonda he would do as she said.

He left the office, returned to his car, and was just about to drive off when he heard a ringing in his ears. It was very faint at first, but grew louder when he started to drive. Soon, it became irritating, but he noticed that when he took a turn, it grew fainter. Victor had his car take him in whichever direction would make the sound quieter until he arrived back at Wilmar Korlak’s shop. Victor swallowed a lump in his throat and decided to enter the shop again without knowing why.

The door was wide open this time, and he walked right in. At this point, the ringing in his ears got significantly lower, and he found himself drawn into a backroom.

He entered an expansive, dark room with fine tile floors and a medium-sized tower in the center. It had a large glass ball mounted on top with a cloud of colors inside. Victor approached the tower, and when he reached out and touched the glass ball, the ringing in his ears immediately disappeared. The second his fingers made contact, the cloud burst apart, revealing swirling violet, blue, white, black, and gold lights.

“Magnificent, isn’t it, boy?”

Victor whipped around and saw Wilmar Korlak standing at the room’s entranceway. He was garbed in fine silk robes of violet and black with stars and crescent moons. When he entered the room, it was almost like he was floating rather than walking.

“The Eye of All Seeing! It allows me to view any part of the world anytime I desire!”

Victor was overwhelmed and found himself unable to move. Wilmar smiled, placed his hands together, and started to encircle Victor and the tower.

“When you first entered my shop, I took you for a mere mortal boy and nothing more. However, when you could access the Book of Incantations, I knew then that you were special. For only a wizard can access the pages and learn its secrets.”

“Who are you?” Victor managed to get out.

“I have gone by many names,” Wilmar said as he continued to walk in a circle. “In a time lost long ago, I was Lonkaro the Wise. The first and greatest disciple of Astaron the Great.”

Victor swallowed a lump in his throat as he suddenly felt a dark and haunting presence from Wilmar.

“Why did you allow me to come here?”

Wilmar smiled. “To fulfill my desire for everlasting life, of course! I have become quite powerful in the ways of the Black Arts, but it extracts a heavy price when one wields it. I am close to reigniting the embers of the once-sacred Fire Crystals that will restore life to our once-magical world, but I have had difficulty enduring due to my progression in power. Others born with the power have occasionally been born capable of being wizards, and the Eye has allowed me to locate a few of them. They all lacked potential in the end to be wizards, except for you.”

He suddenly stopped walking and caused Victor to panic as he approached him and seized hold of his chin. Victor found it impossible to move, and felt like his legs were made of cement.

“Never have I sensed a power as great as yours, boy! No doubt, you will replenish my life force, but you will also help fulfill my purpose in restoring the world to what it once was!”

Before anything else could be said, a voice spoke to both of them from the door, and Victor recognized it as Rhonda.

“You never miss a trick, do you, Lonkaro?”

Wilmar’s face soured, and he released Victor. Rhonda was standing at the doorway with both hands clenched into fists.

“If you harm the boy, you will answer to me!”

“Anamara!” Wilmar replied with delight. “I should have known you would return someday. After a thousand years, our long-awaited duel has come at last!”

“The boy is innocent,” Rhonda said with a scowl. “Do him no harm!”

“There is no need now that you are here,” Wilmar said while holding out his palms. An orb of magic appeared, and he hurled his hands, casting a bolt of violet-colored lightning. “You will suffice and carry out my plan!”

Rhonda responded by throwing her hands up, causing her to disappear in a funnel of smoke. The lightning missed, and Rhonda reappeared on the other side of the room.

“And what plan is that?” Rhonda asked while waving her hands about. “Wiping out the mortal population of this world?”

Seven orbs of blue light appeared, and Rhonda swiped her left arm, causing all the orbs to sail toward Wilmar like bullets.

“And all for what? So a world long dead can be resurrected?”

Wilmar bared his teeth as he held his arms and crossed them before him, creating a magic shield of violet-colored lines. The orbs barraged his shield until it shattered, and Wilmar held up his left arm. Three giant black snakes shot out from his hand and began to strike at Rhonda with fury as she kept them at bay by slapping them with her hands, causing blue sparks to burst each time.

“Our master entrusted us with guarding the Sacred Fire,” Wilmar protested. “When I am at full power, I can awaken the sleeping Fire Crystals, and the world will be restored. The mortals who stand in my way are a mere obstacle that must be removed!”

While they continued to duel, Victor felt a wave of power build up within him, and he suddenly felt another force take control. He held his hands apart, his eyes and mouth glowed bright orange, and a voice that was not his own spoke from within.

“Stop this madness at once!” he shouted like thunder.

Both wizards stopped battling and looked at Victor in shock. Victor had no control over what was happening, but he had no fear.

“I have returned from beyond and been reborn again in this vessel,” he said through another voice. “You both have a destiny to fulfill and must do it together!”

He turned his head toward Wilmar, his eyes flashing. “The Black Arts have corrupted your soul. Forsake it now or be forever cursed to damnation!”

He turned toward Rhonda. “Your negligence for our way of life has left us open to ruin. Return to the old ways or be forever desolate! Forget not the purpose of the Sacred Fire! It stands to bring life to this world, not to take it. To be a beacon of hope to others, not as a means for selfish gain. The time of the wizards will come again, but not through bloodshed and death. Heed what I told you today, my old disciples, and peace will finally be restored!”

Then the power faded away, and Victor stumbled while holding his head. He was aware of what had happened but had difficulty believing it. Both wizards immediately bowed their heads to him in respect.

“Forgive us, O great one,” Wilmar said with utter humbleness. “I did not know you were harboring the power of Astaron the Great!”

“He used the last of his magic to ensure some of his power would endure over the centuries,” Rhonda explained to Victor. “It appears you were chosen to harbor this power. We solemnly vow to stand by what he wished for and to show you the ways of our world, if you will allow us!”

Victor sighed and finally understood then and there what was his destiny, namely to protect the power of the Sacred Fire and keep it from harm. Astaron’s power had been reborn again through him.

Later, when things had settled down, he met up with Ava at their special spot, and this time he approached her with new confidence. She looked at him with confusion, and when she asked what had happened, Victor didn’t hesitate. He kissed her softly, and Ava put her arms around his neck. When they broke apart, he told her everything. After he had finished his story, they sat together and watched the sunset, Ava smiling.

“Wow! I mean just…wow! It’s a lot to take in!”

“You have no idea,” Victor replied with a grin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just wasn’t sure how.”

“Better late than never!” Ava smiled again and interlaced her fingers with Victor’s.