The Queen's Magician

Remember The Time When We Fell In Love

It was not a woman’s place to question the Pharaoh when he asks a woman of his kingdom to marry. I was young when the Pharaoh, Rameses, proposed to me to be his bride. My mother, of course, accepted it because I didn’t know better. How was I to know that if an older man wanted a young lady, that meant the marriage would be most possibly a happy one? I just knew one word to say, and that was, “Yes.” If “no” was used, all would perish.

            After a year of engagement, I was about to be wed within the upcoming month. A whole month made me see a different world, a world beyond the reality of Egypt’s rule. The Pharaoh, my fiancé, brought me to a show from the Roman Empire, the great city north of our kingdom, across the sea. It was said that the show brought magic and tricks no one has ever witnessed until that night. Anyone who did not see it was not to say anything against the circus unless they want to be injured or dead.

We, Rameses and I, took the first seats, the perfect view for the show. I never believed in magic because I was taught magic was nothing but work from a man who the Gods did not bless at birth.

            One man had real magic was what I realized that night. As I sat, bored, I made an announcement as the queen-to-be that shocked the audience. “Someone bring me a real man of magic!” I commanded, “I demand some real entertainment.”

            My Pharaoh announced, “Well, maestro. My future queen wishes, you shall bring to her.”

            The maestro nodded and waved his fingers to the back of the stage area. Then, he announced, “Presenting the Gold Magician from the Imperial City!”

            Slowly, a cloaked man came from the left side, pulling the gray robe with him. The train dragged across the wooden boards, and he stopped dead center on the stage. He was the Gold Magician? Was he supposed to be wearing gold if that was his name? I did not get the main idea about such nonsense. The Gold Magician showed his pale hand to the public with a pile of black dust in it. The pile of dust dropped to the stage floor once his hand turned over. He fetched dust and dropped it two more times to create a circle of it. It was strange that the dust moved into a perfect circle after the Magician kept dropping it. There was no bend in the shape, and no hole was left unfilled. The Gold Magician took two steps onto the dust, and the most unbelievable happened. He sunk into the dust, leaving his cloak behind.

            The whole crowd gasped in shock. I clutched onto the Pharaoh’s arm, thinking that I was going to fall in faint. The man was a magician.

            All of the sudden, the pile of dust began to shake. The center was pushed upward, and every bit of dust had turned from black to gold. The rough texture was clear as glass now. When all of the dust vanished into a shiny figure like the ones the Romans had in their houses. The figures his majesty owned were all out of the same material as the pyramids were made out of, stone. I blinked once, and the figure turned into a man, a Roman man with the white skin as his trademark.

            His hair was black as darkness, but his eyes were bright as morning. Ra had to have given the man such a gift to glow. His robes were gold from chest to ankles. He dressed like an Egyptian royal, but he had the looks of a Roman man.

            “How was that for an entrance?” he asked, chuckling at himself. “If you thought that was magical, how about this?” The Gold Magician put his hand in his robe and pulled out more of the gold dust. I saw that he was the Gold Magician after all. His mysterious powers proved it so. The gold dust pounced upward and transformed into a butterfly, an insect of nature and rebirth. The dusted butterfly looked and acted real. The wings fluttered, and the bug flew into the crowd, flying around heads.