The Wizard

Chapter 7 part 1

"Difficulties prepare ordinary people for extraordinary destinies."

C. S. Lewis.

On that particularly hot end of the day Ezequiel, sat quietly on his porch, meditative. Now that the sun had set and a barely perceptible breeze hovered over the clearing where he had erected his cabin, both made by means of his powers, he enjoyed his moment of contemplation of nature, savoring the only vice he kept over the last centuries: smoking his pipe.

He began the preparation ritual, whose first step was the careful cleaning of the artifact, doing it with all the attention and without any hurry. In the end, he blew away the pieces of old tobacco and analyzed his work. Then, from a black leather bag already old and worn, he began to fill the pipe with tobacco, tamping it with his thumb and inhaling delighted the aroma that emanated. Finally, when everything was finished and approved, he materialized a twig and made it ignite the tip, lighting his pipe. He took a strong puff and leaned back in his chair, relaxed, looking at the smoke he blew and that formed rings that grew with each one that was created. In that vision, he remembered Igor, who made a grimace every time he started smoking, claiming that it was not healthy at all, besides too smelly. With longing, he smiled.

Once, the young wizard had asked why he did not use his gifts to skip straight to the last step and Ezequiel explained that it was because of the pleasure. After such an answer, the boy shrugged and left with a proposal that, on that occasion, made him laugh for a long time: "Then, enjoy and start by planting the tobacco. That way the service is complete and I free of this stench for a while."

Smiling with the memory, he leaned back more, took a puff on his favorite pipe and rocked the chair slowly, whose chains creaked a little. Then, he tilted his head back and let out the smoke, enjoying the sounds of nature, the subtle noise of some bats that only a few men could hear, the monkeys that withdrew whistling after having won many pieces of food from the elder and the crickets that made a real orchestra at nightfall. At that time, feeling homesick for the young wizard, he wondered where Igor would be and if he had managed to solve his problems.

He had disappeared almost two years ago, in the middle of the battle in which he and the dragon very hard contained that evil shadow, which ended up fleeing. By his knowledge acquired eighteen centuries ago, he imagined where the boy would be now and waited anxiously for the moment to see him again. One thing that intrigued him was the fact that the damned aberration was as powerful as Igor to the point that the young wizard had no conditions to defeat it, but he and Saci managed to stop the creature. Ezequiel believed that he would even be able to contain it alone, although the risk was too high, and that made him even more thoughtful about the boy, much, much more powerful than him.

The elder believed that he would return, despite the order he had given to stay away from the cabin. This course of thought made him think again about the damned creature and, once again, he wondered what Igor had that made the demon stronger.

He raised the pipe for a new drag when a subtle sound became present, a sound that did not belong to the environment and much less matched it, like a scrape and then a drag. He was not the only one to hear, since Saci got up, looking in the direction of the bush and then turning to the elder.

"I know, Saci," he said, squeezing the pipe in his hand. He got up and took the staff. "Let's see this portal and who crossed. Be prepared."

Ezequiel muttered something and the staff began to glow with great force, illuminating every corner no matter how obscure it was. In doubt, he also generated a personal barrier, making his body glow in a ghostly way in a blue tone.

A bush moved with a nerve-wracking slowness and the two saw a dirty hand emerge, pushing it away. Soon after, a very wounded man advanced, staggering clinging to his belly and fell to the ground at his feet.