The white wizard snapped his fingers, instantly drying out his beard and his white fur. If only this would make them combed again…how frustrating!
Before he could scrub the back of Orto once more, he sensed trouble. The air had a charge…as if something was amiss. His senses almost responded whenever there was a disturbance nearby. What could it be?
The white wolf’s blue eyes glowed, the white of his fur increasing in intensity as he growled at the moment. What was bothering him? Someone was at the door…he could tell. And he was right.
The next moment, the doorbell rang. Doorbell? At this early? That was when the old wizard Aporton stroked the white fur of his wolf gently. The magical aura of the wolf was resonating with something…a warning? He almost expected the door to be broken into pieces and someone to
The charge in air responded to his senses clearly…he was quite worried about the presence at the door. Only the most experienced wizards could sense this.
“Alright my dear, lets see who is it on the door!” Aporton spoke, the nerves on his forehead getting tense. He had been hearing a lot of news recently…all of them concerning the affairs all over the Magicor.
The doorbell rang again, and the white wolf growled, standing in front of Orto as if protecting him. As for young Orto, he had clearly sensed a tension in air. He was intelligent enough to know when was the time to get serious.
“What is wrong with papa?” he asked himself to the white wolf who stood up, leaving the bathroom. Something very serious was going on. He scrubbed the sponge himself, trying to accompany his master. The old wizard quickly took off the old garment, now donning his official dark blue robe with design of stars imprinted on it. That would mean official business! Orto could notice it all.
With another ringing of doorbell, the old wizard came to the door, dressed in his finest. He was ready for any official business. Hopefully, it would involve usage of force anywhere. He hated how things turned out whenever force was involved.
As he opened the door, he saw the figure standing with a straight posture. He inspected those young man’s features, that smug look visible in his almond eyes along with that clever stare. He wore an expression of troubled fellow on his clean shaved oval face. His hair was dark and loose, resting neatly on his shoulders. There was an air of disturbance around him.
“Greetings Alborium,II, the shining new member of Magisterium!” Aporton spoke, brushing his beard with his hands as he inspected this young man wearing that official’s uniform. From head to toe, he was dressed in black. The ebony overcoat reaching to his knees. Inside the overcoat, the black jerkin hid countless scrolls, most of them of troubling nature as Aporton knew the officials were allowed to carry them. He stepped forward, his long boots making that noise as he came inside the mansion.
“Come on sir Aporton, you can call me Albor!” the young man spoke as he came inside.
For a moment or two, there was an exchange of stares. Then Aporton beckoned him to come inside, wondering if this hundred and twenty-seven-year old official who was still young to be a wizard would ever stop carrying that many scrolls. He was a spark of fire…perhaps almost like a live wire that couldn’t be messed with. The wizards around steered clear of Alborium II, the official who claimed to have mastery over the dark arts and several other schools of magic.
Although most believed his power was more political, he did have a reputation of being talented. In the time when Aporton had apprenticed this young lad, this boy had shown amazing talent, impressing Aporton. And it wasn’t just the old wizard that he had impressed. He had also influenced the magisterium council to consider giving him the higher ranks which others struggled for hundreds of years. The story never added up but who could question Alborium II? After all, he was also the one who had stopped two vicious attacks from the one eared elves on the Hall of Ancients. This feat had been recorded, making him one of the official heroes.
Still, Aporton the blue-eyed old wizard wondered if inviting this lad within his mansion was such a great idea.
“What is the news?” Aporton asked. In response, there was a bitter smile that widened the lips of Alborium II.
“Your presence is required old man. The Hall of Ancients asks your presence for a specific inquiry! An incident has occurred regarding the attack of one eared elves several years ago. They want to question every wizard and witch in sight!” he explained it all in one go.
Anger…grief…fear of being misunderstood…that was all what encompassed his heart. Were they suspecting him? Had they forgotten that they had tried to recruit him a few years ago?
Never mind! He would give them a piece of his mind if he was invited into their Hall of the Ancients. He would surely make them respect his boundaries and prove his innocence. How could they even think for one second that he was to be blamed for any of it?
“Well then, tell them they will have me by noon. Good day!” he spoke, beckoning Alborium II to leave. Magisterium or not, you would leave when a few centuries old wizard asked you to. No extra questions asked. Alborium II bowed before his former master, his eyes making strange expressions of delight. Delight?! What could be so delightful? Aporton wondered.
“I shall be waiting for you sir. Please don’t be late. The council is already stressed!” he spoke before leaving. The moment that door closed, Aporton quickly moved to his cupboard there at the side. He took a brief look at the bathroom on second floor, eyeing at young Orto taking a bath all by himself.
Opening the cupboard, he took out a crystal ball, chanting an incantation.
There were so many good stories and I had to read a few from Card B 😂 Still cupcake 🧁 on my mind though 🧁🧁 thanks for that @dreemsteem
suffer from the past, to long for the future, but to forget the present.
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