The Salem Magi

Chickens, or Popcorn?

In a small town on the outskirts of Firstland lived a small family. A man, his wife, their daughter, and their two sons. They raised chickens for eggs, cows for milk, and the wife had a small garden for vegetables for themselves. The man would take the eggs and the milk to market every tenth day, and the boys would come along to help. Every tenth day the wife would take a break, and the girl would play outside.

Today was one of those days. The wife was in the kitchen, making some sort of concoction she would undoubtedly call food. The husband and boys were off on their adventure to the market. And little Salem was outside playing with the chickens. What nobody, not even her family, knew about Salem was that she wasn't just good with animals. She could control them. If she focused her thoughts and traced the proper symbols in the air, symbols she made up herself, she could make them do just about anything.

So on this morning, she was playing with the chickens out in the yard. She had them all lined up in a row, and in a moment she planned to have them do a new trick. She planned for them to all jump up at once, and cluck at the same time as soon as her mom came outside. Salem liked to play pranks on Lilith, her mother. Lilith used to say that there had to be something more to it than being good with animals, but since Salem only played pranks when the boys were away...Lilith was just assumed paranoid. So, she quit bringing it up.

As Salem was preparing the final symbols, a man walked up the road behind her. He shouted "Hello! Are your parents home?" And she jumped. When she jumped, she fumbled the last of the symbols horribly, and "POP"..."POP"..."POP" could be heard. The force had thrown her to the ground. She didn't even have to look up to know she had just burst three of her chickens. She cringed, and got up just as the man came running over, and her mother came out the door. "What happened to the chickens!" her mother exclaimed. "Are you alright?" asked the man. She didn't know what to say. She looked at her mother, and then at the man, then turned back to her mother. Tears started to well up in her eyes. She quickly ran off without saying a word to either of them.

The man knew what had happened though. This man was a Mage. He was sent for precisely this reason. "Do you mind if I come in for a bit? I have some things to discuss with you about your daughter" He asked. Salem's mother was a bit surprised. "Who are you? Why are you interested in my daughter? And what happened to my chickens?!" She exclaimed. "I am Mage Itleberg, and I am here to recover your daughter for training at the Mages University. She seems to be quite talented already...and" he paused, and looked over at the remains of the dead chickens "as you can see, she's become a danger to herself, and those around her." Salem's mother paused for a moment, a mix of confusion, and shock evident on her face.

Then a new look. The classic 'I told you so' look. "I knew it! I knew it, and I said as much, and they ignored me, but I was right, and they were wrong! So she's a witch? You're going to train her? How much will you pay us for her?" She was obviously not that concerned. "Well, I'll have to see what she can do first. Then, we can discuss prices." he said.

Master Itleberg was not especially surprised by the reaction. People knew they could get a lot of money by giving their offspring to the Universities. The average person also viewed magically gifted individuals as bad omens, nuisances, and outcasts. It was rare for a family to keep such a child around for long, even if none of the Universities ever found out about it. Usually in those situations, they were turned over to the church, and the church handed them in to the nearest Wizard or Mages school. Even they didn't want anything to do with them.

"Oh, yes. Of course. I'll go and find the little chicken popper" Salem's mother hurried off to find her daughter, there was a gleam of excitement in her eyes as she went. She'd finally be able to afford that servant she'd been wanting.

Hours later, the mother still hadn't returned. This was to be expected as well. Children who don't want to be found, often aren't. As Master Itleberg waited, a cart approached from behind. "Hello there" said the man driving the cart. Master Itleberg turned around, and faced the cart "Hello there, I am Master Itleberg. Who might you be?" he said to the driver. "I'm the owner of the lands you're standing on," the driver said, as he got down from the cart "My name's Sybil. Sybil Octovanius. What brings you here?" he then stretched out his hand. The Magi took it, and shook it. Itleberg was somewhat unaccustomed to warm welcomes. Greed induced frenzies, sure, but never a handshake.