Part 1: HERE
Part 3: HERE
“ The Wizard.” The Page stood aside to let the him enter.
“At your service, Sire.” Magico bowed, his hat toppled from his head and rolled with a clatter across the floor.
“Have you seen the sky?” said the King, as he kicked the hat out of his way.
“Yes, the sky. Look.”
He walked to the window, Magico followed. They peered upwards at the dark motionless clouds, then at the people below who were hardly moving now.
“What do you make of it?”
Magico considered the black drifting clumps that, little by little, were cutting out the light. He stepped away from the window. “There is something I remember which I read in the ancient record books kept in the library tower. Tell me Sire, have you noticed how things have not been working the way they should today? Even my door knocker is misbehaving. ”
“Well,yes. At breakfast this morning I cracked open my egg and the yolk flew away. Of course, I ordered the cook to be flogged. What good’s an egg without a yolk? What is it you remember? Speak man! Do you know what the dark clouds mean?”
“I think I do,Sire.”
“Something is troubling the Creator.”
“Creator? What Creator? I’m the authority here in this land.”
“That you are Sire, but according to the records, the Creator created the land, the town and the people.”
“We all exist because of the Creator.”
“Does this Creator have a name?”
“They say it is called, The Writer.”
“And the dark clouds, what do they mean?”
“I believe they’re called Writer’s Block.”
“What’s this Writer’s Block mean?” King Boroff started to pace up and down, but as he did his legs kept getting stuck in the air giving the impression of goose stepping.
Magico stared at him, trying to fight an urge to salute. “Sire, you’re walking funny.”
Boroff stopped in mid step, leg dangling halfway between the roof and floor as if held by a string. He looked at his suspended limb, then at the Wizard. “Well don’t stand there. Help me.”
“Sire.” Magico placed his hands on the King’s leg and pushed. The offending limb shot down, and the King shot forward head first into the cushion on his throne. The Page standing by the door, covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, for he knew if he was heard, he may never laugh again. The Wizard glanced at the boy and placed a finger to his lips then turned back towards the King.
Boroff untangled himself from the throne. His crown had fallen over his eyes and his mouth was set in a downward turn. “Somebody will lose their head for this!” He tried a few tentative steps, before marching back across the room, landing an angry kick on the Wizard’s hat as he passed it, sending it sliding across the floor to arrive at the Page’s feet. “My legs took on a life of their own. What happened? No one controls my legs but me!”
“Sire, I fear it’s the Writer.”
“It’s changing things.”
“If the Writer thinks it’s going to mess with me, it’s got another think coming,” Boroff’s cheeks became redder as his temper grew.
A loud crack echoed from outside the window. The King and Wizard attempted to rush towards it, but amble was all they were able to do. They leaned out and looked up. The clouds had grown darker, but there was a gap where a small shaft of light was shining through.
“Sire, if those clouds completely cover the sky, we will cease to be.”
“Work some magic. You’re a Wizard aren’t you.” Magico looked at Boroff. “Well, what are you waiting for?” snapped the King.
Magico leaned out the window and waved hands as he started to chant. Flashes darted from his fingers like bolts of lightening. Then a flare, a BANG! and a whole lot of smoke. Boroff and the Wizard coughed and spluttered as they waved away the cloudy vapour to reveal a fat hen pecking around their feet.
“Call yourself a Wizard, bah.” Boroff kicked the chicken, which sent it flying off in a flurry of clucks.
“Sire, nothing is working as it should.”
“Didn’t those books say anything about what to do about this Writer’s Block?”
“Em, I didn’t read the last one, but,” Magico added quickly, “ I’ll go and fetch it and take it home to study.”
“Be quick about it. I want this problem fixed.” Boroff narrowed his eyes. “Or someone will pay.”
“Yes, Sire. I’m on it.”
The Wizard turned and walked to the door as fast as he could, but his old legs were feeling like wood. The Page reached out for Magico’s hat. He opened the door and handed it to him as he left.
To Be Continued...