The Magician's Vow: A Retelling of The Pied Piper of Hamelin

Part I - Chapter IV: Callers & Conjuring

Anger has a way of contorting thoughts. What once seemed logical now looks insane. What was once despicable becomes an credible option. And although anger always tries to take over your whole being, I must resist. I have seen what hatred and anger can do to people. One only has to look back at the history of our people to see how disastrous giving reign to your emotions really is. 

But knowing that Ambrose is aware of Lorelle’s condition and still chooses not to do anything is nothing less than infuriating. Even though our people have suffered much at the hands of mortals, it still does not make sense in my mind that one would punish someone that had nothing to do with the persecution, even though they are of the same race as the oppressors. 

It also saddens me to know that Grandfather Augustine had such friends as Ambrose. I had always thought of Grandfather as an upstanding man, whose moral compass was as straight as a wand and as true as the sun. To know that he kept company with such a man is painful. Respect is something that is easily damaged, and although I know that Grandfather was not perfect --who is?--, I cannot bring myself to see him in the light that I once did. I wonder what he would say if he knew his friend was the one who condemned his granddaughter to a painful death.

------------------------

Eugene tried to ignore the knocking, hoping that whoever was there would simply leave. But the knocking continued and after a few minutes, a deep unfamiliar voice called out.

“Eugene, Magician of Antvrae. Answer our call! We know you are within the home. We witnessed your arrival.” The speaker pounded against the door and it shook in its frame. Lorelle groaned in her sleep and turned over.

Eugene cursed under his breath but knew that disregarding the call was no longer an option if he didn’t want the man to break down the door.

He got to his feet and watched Lorelle for a few more moments. Her forehead was pulled tightly together and her lips were curved down. The knocking had been too loud.

Eugene quietly walked to the door but hesitated, his hand inches from the handle. This man knew he was a magician. And by the way he spoke, he was obviously a simple human. Eugene had not come across mortals that did not wish him harm in a very long time. Why would this time be any different? By opening the door, was he simply condemning himself to the stake and Lorelle to a slow and painful death? 

He pulled his hand back and raised it to the door, preparing to utter a spell of protection onto the opening. 

“Magician! Do not think you can fool or fight us. We have come prepared. You will not be able to stand against us.”

Eugene placed his hand near the door, but decided against a protective spell.

“Visionis augendae.” Unlike most of his other spells, this one acted quickly and within the span of a breath, Eugene could see through objects. The spell was a difficult one; he could not upkeep it for long. He turned his attention to the door and he quickly found that the man spoke the truth. Along with the speaker, there were a dozen soldiers, all of them in full armor and with sharpened swords at their sides. Half a dozen horsemen sat on their mounts near the road. They all watched the door as if it was a portal to another world: eyes wide with expectancy and lips tight with nervousness.

Eugene couldn’t help but be amused at the little humans. If he decided to use his powers against them, their swords and their shields would do almost nothing. 

But Lorelle...a fight was the last thing she needed to wake up to. One of the men might even decide to go after her. No. He would not let Lorelle suffer any more than she already was.