Midwood magic

Prologue

"Duty over love," said Mr Pearson as he paced up and down his workroom. He had been pacing for quite some time. The Fragments of Fate lay on his desk. To mortal eyes it looked like autumn leaves but it wasn't just that. They were the ancient Fragments of Fate. His mind went back to his homeland, the home of the elves. He remembered the first lesson he had had with the Fatekeeper. This was before he had begun his life in the shape of a mortal man, Mr Pearson. He remembered how anxious he had been.

He could feel the cold breeze that blew in through the White Willow trees that had been planted long ago by the elves of old. He remembered how the Fate-keeper stood at the entrance of the doorway to the Sanctuary of Stars. The Fate-keeper was tall, thin and had silver hair that looked as if it was made of starlight. He was wearing a dark blue robe that looked like the night sky with silver stars attached to it.

Mr Pearson pictured himself stepping into the Sanctuary of Stars. He could picture it all clearly in his head. There were little lanterns that were shaped like stars floating about everywhere. On the walls were painted all the star stops, which is what the elves called a constellation. It was the most beautiful place he had seen.

"These paintings were made from the extract of the Starberries that grow on the Terrestrial Tree. The tree has been with the us elves since time out of mind. No one knows how it came to be. Some say that the brightest star there ever was fell from the heavens and grew into the Terrestrial Tree, while some say that the first snowflake that ever fell from the sky grew into this beautiful tree. There are so many stories about this tree.

Mr Pearson remembered how the hall had smelt of something like lilies. There was a curtain hanging down from one end to the other across the hall. The silver star lanterns were floating about like giant wingless fireflies. The Fate-keeper raised he raised his star-shaped medallion. All the silver star lanterns that were floating about stopped on their tracks and stood still like giant snowflakes frozen in midair. Then all of them rushed towards the snow-white curtain and collided with it, setting it on fire. The fire ate away at the curtain and slowly it began to crumble bit by bit until there was nothing left of it, except for a pile of ashes on the floor.

"Please don't step on the ashes," said the Fate-keeper as they walked through the space where the curtain had been. Standing in the centre of the middle of the chamber they entered was a strange tree. The tree seemed to be made of fire. Instead of leaves there were flames in every colour imaginable.

The flames were glowing brighter and brighter as they got closer and closer to the tree. The tree grew so bright that both had to shield their eyes from the glare. Bits of flame fell from the tree. Mr Pearson remembered counting them. One, two, three, four, five, six and seven. When the last flame hit the floor, the tree stopped glowing.

Even now, Mr Pearson could picture how the all the flames burning on the floor. When they stopped burning there were seven leaves, red, yellow, pink, green, purple, orange and blue.

"Like pieces of a rainbow," Mr Pearson remembered thinking that, looking at the fallen leaves.

The Fate-keeper pulled out another star shaped medallion from one of his pockets in his robe. The star had seven points and each leaf that once was a flame came floating and landed on each point of the seven-pointed star.

The leaves blended into the star and the star glowed in all the colours of the leaves, from red to blue. Then slowly the glow faded and there was just a silver star remaining in his hands. He looked at it and then held it out.

"Take this. This medallion is for you," said the Fate-keeper and Mr Pearson remembered how cold it had felt to the touch, he had expected it to be hot because he had just seen the burning flames go right into the seven points of the star.

"Those leaves are Fragments of Fate. These "fragments" represent your fate. If you are ever in doubt as to what you should do, you can consult the fragments. The fragments of fate. I can teach you how to read them. It doesn't take much time to learn. Would you like me to?"

"Of course. I would love to learn," Mr Pearson had said as he looked at the seven-pointed star and back at the Fate-keeper. Back then he had been a boy of twelve, now at thirty-four, his heart felt heavier than it had ever done before and looking back at the past gave him a sense of lightness and he felt almost unable to stop thinking about it. Unlike mortals, elves had vivid memories. For someone with elvish blood, revisiting memories was exactly like watching a movie.

They went to a door which opened into a room with bookshelves on all sides. There was a coat hanger by the door and the Fate-keeper went to it and turned a hook around three times and the coat-hanger sank into the floor and in its place, there appeared a cabinet. The Fate-keeper took out a small key from one of his pockets and opened it.

Inside it was a single book. It was a large leather-bound volume with something written in golden letters which had faded away with age and was bare legible. But when the Fate-keeper took it to his hands the letters became legible.

It said, "Folio of Fate," and every page was a shade of different colour form different shades of reds to greens the book looked strange but beautiful. The Fate-keeper gently turned the pages as if he was worried that the book would fall apart it, he wasn't gentle with it. He stopped at an empty page that was blank and went and laid it out on a desk that stood to one side of the room.

Then the Fate-keeper stretched his hand and said, "the star please."

Mr Pearson remembered how he had handed the star and how when he placed the seven-pointed star on the blank page writing had appeared in silver.

"That's it. All you've got to do is read the writing that appears on the page."

"But that's your book," Mr Pearson had said looking at the old leather-bound volume.

"Every elf is given his own when he is ready to have one. Come along with me."

Mr Pearson remembered how he felt his heartbeat faster. "But we are given our folios when we are older, isn't it?"

"Well, as the saying goes, age is just a number and sometimes old rules need to be broken to make way for the new."

"I don't understand," Mr Pearson had said as he hurried along to keep up with the Fate-keeper who seemed to be running instead of walking.

"You won't, at least not yet" he said, and they entered another room with no books at all. It was empty except for a large cupboard. Mr Pearson remembered seeing something written in golden letters. It said, "Open me to find the Drawer of Destiny."

"Go along, open the cupboard," said the Fate-keeper, nodding towards the cupboard.

Mr Pearson remembered how his feet trembled as if they didn't want to move at all. Slowly, he opened the cupboard. It was a strange cupboard with just one drawer. There was a giant golden knob on it and he noticed that it said, "Drawer of Destiny," in the tiniest imaginable letters.

He opened it and there was a book with a blank leather cover. He took it to his hand, and it said, "Folio of Fate."

The very same book was in his hands right now as he double checked the meaning written on its pages. Sure enough, it was the same.

"I must leave. I can't stay. I must leave my home and everything I know. My wife, my child, my...everything," he said taking the seven-pointed-star out. Then he took up the medallion and the fragments-of-fate blended with the seven points of the stars.

Mr Pearson shut the door behind softly and walked towards the front door. He took a piece of paper and left it on the mantlepiece.

Mr Pearson walked out of his workroom and shut the door behind softly. He went silently towards the door of the bedroom where Mrs Pearson and baby Damian were fast asleep. He opened the door and found moonlight streaming in through the window. Everything was quiet and peaceful.

He closed his eyes and his figure faded and faded until it was just a silhouette. Then Mr Pearson walked through the door. Everything was quiet. The moon was full and a shadow walked towards the beach. An observant mortal eye would have noticed, if they were looking at the sand, there were footprints being made by no one in particular.