The Wizard of Elsewhere

1.8 - Blackest Hatred

You really stepped in it now Barney. You know that right?

This isn't like that time you accidentally wandered into the Chamber of Fatal Prophecies on the thirteenth floor and had the Circle of Senior Wizards all shaking their beards at you.

This goes way beyond when you accidentally decrypted Grand Wizard Virgil Borengirdles Tome of Rather Personal Secrets and left the translation on the Library counter.  Remember?  You thought he was going to curse your family line down to your great grandchildren's great grandchildren.

And remember that one time you mixed up the ingredients for the Draft of Greater-Newt's Fire Resistance solution with the Solution of Greater Fire Resistant Newt?  And then drank it?  And then your grandfather almost chopped you up for potion ingredients?

None of that holds an ever-burn candle to the trouble you're in now.  I've been pouring through everything I've ever known about the Fae. And not once. Not ONCE has any mortal really gotten the better of the Fae.  I'd bet my brim on it. 

Those stories like Rumplestiltskin, Rapunzel, Snow White?  All of these great kingdoms and valiant kings and princes and knights.... What happened to them all? The stories just stop.  What happened to Camelot?

What I'm trying to say is... your beard's on the line here, now. You understand?

You made a deal with the Fae, in exchange for time.  Time and nothing more.  She's still coming after those kids afterwards.  And if you don't deliver, she's coming after you as well. Pretty sure this uses up her "Good Grace".  And Fae are all about their deals.

— You understand?

'Mothballs you do!  But at least your finally acting your beard length. Well nothing to do now but stir this cauldron.

So Barnibus, grandchild of Grand Wizard Albernathy Thomas Barnwinkle, grand-grandchild of Arch-Wizard Zeldon Hoover Montgomery Barnwinkle.  You shove that Knowing Twinkle back in your eye.  You patch that gaping hole in your Dignity.  And for the sake of wide brims and good stitching everywhere throw on that Wizardly Air of Intrigue and Wisdom of Ages Past. Its been slipping all night!

'You want me to be a Hat to thee? Well for once in your life you be a Hatted Wizard to me.  And when that robe gets back you throw it on.  I don't care if its sopping wet, this 'Wizard is always a wizard even with his pants down' shtick you're peddling is getting old.  We are walking in the footsteps of Merlin here.  The Merlin.  Those are shoes wider than mountains.  No two bit Hedge Wizard is going to cut it.

— Wizard Barnibus' Hat

* * *

There was an odd numbness that Leinan was feeling.  A numbness that was so odd juxtaposed to the stinging burn coming from where she was sitting down. 

Fat tears leaked down her cheeks.  They ran in streams that she couldn't stop, passing her lips and covering them in salt, and then collected in drops at her chin. 

Eventually they fell.

Burning.  And numb.  It was a surreal combination.  Which was appropriate she supposed.  Everything was surreal now.

Like the monster grinning agreeably beside her who had hair the color of freshly fallen snow, and lips like blood.

Who "punished" her and laughed. Laughed — delighted, like it was a game.  Like it was fun.  Who had hunted them, deftly separating them away from the rest of the Landsend folk out passed the tree line and forcing them to run.  To hide. To tire like game animals.