Thieves Alike

     Malvus was walking back home with a wheelbarrow of split firewood. Summer was coming to an end, and the long winters of the Shenkuu mountains were long and unforgiving if ever his stockpile of wood were to run out. He paused for a moment to stretch his back, letting out a short-winded grunt while his spine let out a series of popping sounds.

     "Ahh... that feels better," The old Gelert muttered to himself and continued walking. "I wish I knew a spell to rejuvenate my bones." Malvus had decided that this would be his final trip of the day. It was getting harder each year to gather wood. Living the life of a hermit this far from any village suited him well for the most part, except for moments like this. Malvus was deep in thought about a good cup of tea and a steam bath when he noticed two ruffians trying to break into his house.

     "HALT!" he shouted, shooting a bright beam of light at the vines growing on the side of his house. The vines instantly began growing, entwining a young Green Ixi who was in the midst of climbing into his window. Malvus watched grudgingly as the Brown Lutari disappeared into the forest.

     "He shouldn't go far," he muttered to himself. He walked up to the entangled intruder.

     The old Gelert approached Zena, muttering to himself as he advanced, keeping his eyes fixed on the tree line. He glanced down at Zena.

     “In all of Neopia, what do you think you're doing?!” the wizard demanded. Zena struggled to free herself, her face half pressed to the ground. She managed to shift herself enough to face the old Gelert. The Gelert stopped muttering. He paused, standing only a few feet away, giving her an inquisitive look. The redness of his face slowly subsided as though he managed to calm himself down. He looked back towards the tree line again.

     “Who was that?” he asked. Zena didn't answer. The wizard looked up at the window Zena was trying to climb through. “You’re magic users, aren’t you?” Zena remained quiet. He allowed a minute to pass before speaking again. “I don’t imagine you want to stay tied up too long. Can’t be comfortable.”

     “Too tight to speak. Loosen it,” Zena finally spoke, struggling with every word.

     “Ho-ho! Never too tight! Do you think I’m an amateur? I’ll loosen it if you answer my questions. I’m in no hurry to go anywhere, so take your time.” Zena remained quiet. She lay there silent for a few minutes even though she knew he wasn't bluffing. Her stubbornness deemed it necessary.

     “Why do you think that?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

     “What, that you are a magic user? Easy! The window was locked when I left," Malvus said.

     “You forgot to lock them,” she insisted.

     “Nope! They're always locked. By an enchantment. The spell you used was the only way to unlock them. Where did you learn that spell?” the wizard prodded. Zena didn't answer, but reflected in her mind a memory of her mom teaching her that trick in case of emergency of being locked out of the house. A memory that had been long locked away. Zena had taught it to Nathan one night to show off. She felt a bit of guilt using it for mischief, even though it wasn't the first time and was technically Nathan that cast the spell.

     “I guess those vines aren't necessary. They can’t be very comfortable,” Malvus said. He didn't wait for an answer and cut her free with a wave of his hand. “Come with me,” he said. “We need to talk.”

     The old Gelert led Zena in through the front door and had her sit on an armchair after moving away some dusty books and loose papers. He disappeared into the back room for a minute to peer out the window at the tree line and returned back to the living area where Zena was still sitting.

     Zena was completely confused. So much had happened in the past few minutes that she struggled to wrap her head around everything. Yet, she somehow didn't feel threatened by the Gelert, who was now tidying up other books, papers and boxes around the room. She scanned around the unkept room and assumed correctly that he didn't entertain very often. Her nostrils flared up from the years of dust that was being released into the air. The old handmade pine shelf next to her was also filled with books, most of which appeared to be old spell books. She reached out to look at one when the wizard turned around towards her and resumed conversation.

     “Those are my old text books,” the wizard said. Zena quickly withdrew her hand. “That’s okay, you can look at them. I admire inquisitive minds. I wrote those books myself.”

     “Thanks,” she said, uncertain whether it was a good idea. The wizard continued tidying up. He was moving boxes off the chair opposite of her, perhaps to make room for himself to sit down, though he didn't.

     “How’d you know I wasn’t going to run?” Zena asked finally.

     “I didn’t,” he answered. “But I didn’t think you'd run, so I guess I was right.” He smiled. It was a charming smile, not of which one would expect to see from a hermit in the woods. He went back to tidying up. The situation felt very bizarre and awkward to Zena. She wondered what he was up to.

     “How’s your brother doing?” he said, adjusting a few books in a taller handmade bookshelf, not looking over. Then he turned to her. “Hector, I believe his name is?” Zena's heart pulsated a mile a minute. Maybe she was in more trouble than she thought. Her face instantly became pale and she started to feel ill.

     “Pardon my manners,” the old Gelert continued. “My name's Malvus.”

     “H-How,” Zena stammered. She tried to say more, but struggled to speak and didn't know what to say. Malvus chuckled. This was not typical behaviour of the old wizard, but he felt there was a lesson that needed to be learned for attempted break and enter.

     “Not many Ixi’s around here and you have a remarkable resemblance to your mother," he said.

     “You knew my mother?” Zena was always surprised when strangers knew her parents. Most people in her community knew her parents, but they never talked about them. It was as though everyone kept seeing her as a six-year-old and that she couldn't handle hearing anything about them. Or maybe it was them who couldn't handle talking about her parents.

     “That caught your attention.” The old Gelert chuckled softly. He explained how he used to teach magic in Silver Hills and that Zena’s parents moved there to attend the school. That was before the war and before magic was banned in the community.

     “Were you exiled from the community because you're a wizard?” Zena asked.

     “No. People asked me to stay, but they also expected me not to practice magic. I had to make the hard decision not to stay. It’s a wonderful village.” Zena pictured how the village looked now and cringed. Used to be.

     “I lost my parents in the war,” she spoke softly, fighting back some tears.

     “Yes, heroically. There were far too many casualties. I regret not being in the right place at the necessary time.” Malvus also appeared choked up. Zena didn't remember the war, just a time when she felt scared and her brother consoling her, assuring her that she'd be fine and he was going to take care of her.

     “I haven't seen you since you were six!” Malvus beamed. “Maya, your mom, was one of my most promising students. Your dad, Roland, was good at magic too, but rarely used it. He enjoyed the comfort of solitude. Your brother, Hector, was picking it up fast too-“

     “Hector can use magic?!” Zena cut in. She had never seen him cast any spells. He flat out refused to see any benefit in using magic and had more-or-less pleaded for her to stop using magic.

     “Yes. He may not now because he's not allowed to and, unlike you, he likes to follow the rules,” Malvus said. Zena blushed slightly. He certainly did like to follow rules. “That urge you have to dabble in magic comes because it's in your blood. The whole community was a magic community and that earned some powerful enemies as a result.”

     “And they attacked us?” Zena asked with a heightened sense of anxiety.

     “Not exactly. The communities surrounding Silver Hills were feeling threatened by our abilities and felt they would one day be a target. They argued for years for us to stop using magic or move our community elsewhere. Years went by and the turmoil exploded into an ugly war led by some bad people." He paused for a moment, reflecting on his involvement before continuing. "We won the war, thanks largely to your parents.” Zena looked stunned. She didn't know they won the war. If they won, why was no one allowed to use magic? No one had ever explained anything about the war apart from how terrible it was.

     “I thought we lost,” Zena said.

     “We are a strong community. Many feel we did lose because the war hadn't been prevented in the beginning. After the war, the Silver Hill council banned magic because the community was deemed by so many other communities to be a threat. In their mind, if the village hadn’t been a magic community, the whole situation would have been prevented.”

     Malvus explained how magic was still commonly practiced throughout Neopia and many places accept it, but usually just for use in the battledome. Faeries and some outliers being the exception.

     “Do you want to hear some stories about your parents?” Malvus asked as he cleared his throat.

     “Of course!” Zena never turned down an opportunity to learn something new about her parents. The old Gelert told her a few stories about her mom first coming to Silver Hills and raising her and her brother. As he continued with the stories, he would periodically disappear into the back room for a moment before coming back and continuing with the stories.

     After some time Malvus walked into the kitchen to brew some tea. Looking back at Zena, he couldn't help but notice the puzzled look she was casting his way.

     “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

     “How did you cast that spell out there?” she asked.

     “I’m sure you understand how magic works. Practice.”

     “No, it was different. You didn’t shout out a command other than ‘Halt!’. A light flashed, the vines grew, and yet nothing halted," Zena said with the same puzzled expression. All of her spells required related action words, even the one that caused the storm. Malvus chuckled again.

     “Indeed. That’s a more advanced trick. The simple answer is that magic comes from within. All you really need to do is envision the spell you wish to cast and really feel it. I could teach you how to do that if you would like me to.”

     “Yes! Of course!” she shouted, a bit louder and high-pitched than she meant.

     “But you need to help me out with something in return," he said. Zena figured there was a catch. She had almost forgotten that she wasn't there by her own free will. “I don’t ask of much. I’ve been struggling to collect firewood for the winter. Maybe you could help me with this and as a reward I will teach you some tricks. It will also provide you with a place to hide out for a while.”

     “How do you know I’m not heading back to town?” Zena asked.

     “Another hunch,” the wizard winked.

     “Deal. But can’t you just use magic?” She asked.

     “It’s not that easy. I can’t just conjure up a spell to fell trees, chop them into logs, split them, and then cart them back to the cabin. That would take a tremendous amount of energy, and I’m afraid that even the fittest and toughest wizards would never do such a thing and certainly not regularly. You must get tired after casting spells.”

     “Sure, makes sense,” Zena agreed. “But I’m not that strong either. I don’t think I could cut down trees and chop them up."

     “No, but with the help of your friend, I'm sure the work would be easier,” Malvus said. Zena looked down, all emotion leaving her face.

     “No he left me behind. I’m sure he's long gone by now.”

     “Have some faith in your friend. I’m positive you're wrong,” Malvus tapped the side of his nose. “Follow me.”

     **********

     Nathan hid behind a large pine tree and watched for any movement in the cabin. The old Gelert peered through the back window in his direction from within the cabin. His heart sank a bit upon the realization that the wizard knew he was standing there. He decided against his better judgement to stay put. This way he could prepare himself better if someone were to sneak up on him.

     Nathan remained in position for about a half hour as he observed the Gelert occasionally come to the window to check up on him. Nathan timed it to be about five minutes between each visit, peering for only a few seconds before disappearing again.

     He watched the wizard return to the window one last time before he attempted to move. He hung his backpack and rain jacket on the tree and positioned them to look as though he was still hiding behind the tree. Nathan made a slow break, ducking behind trees and bushes as he made his way to get a better look inside the front window. A row of cedar trees lined the front of the house, providing thick cover as he hid behind them. Through the gaps of the foliage, he could see the whole front of the house without being noticed.

     The old wizard was standing in the front room, leafing through a book and facing away from the window. In front of him, sitting in a chair, was Zena. She didn't seem tied up, but she never moved whenever the Gelert left the room. He believed the backpack was doing the trick, because each time the Gelert returned to the front room, he either continued talking to Zena or leafed through his book.

     Nathan needed a closer look, but he couldn't risk being spotted. Even Zena spotting him would be a risk as she could easily give his presence away. He remembered the pair of binoculars he had in his backpack, though he could have kicked himself that he didn't remember to take them out before sneaking over. He carefully snuck back to get the bag, but it was no longer hanging in the tree. Panic started to fill his chest. Not only were there essentials in the bag, but so was his book. He looked around. Maybe it was in a different tree or maybe someone else was out here. But they would have surely confronted him by now. He looked around some more, but there was no trace of the bag anywhere. It must have been an animal. He hurried back over to the cedar bushes to check on Zena. He was going to have to run off for a bit to find his bag.

     When he got to the cedar bushes, his backpack was there on the ground.

     “What?!” he gasped, covering his mouth quickly to avoid any more noise from coming out. He was certain he left it behind in the tree, though he did feel relieved. It's easy to make absent-minded mistakes when feeling stressed, and this was a stressful situation. He checked over his bag and nothing appeared to be missing. Nathan pulled out his binoculars for a better look. The wizard was standing in front of the chair where Zena was sitting, obstructing her from his view.

     “Move out of the way!” Nathan ordered him under his breath. Just as the Gelert started to move out of the way, a Petpetpet resembling a spider popped in front of one of the lenses and looked at him with two giant googly eyes.

     “Yeeps!” Nathan dropped the binoculars. It wasn't a big spider and normally he wasn't afraid of them, but it dropped down so unexpectedly. And was it waving at him? He shook the idea out of his head and picked up the binoculars again. When he glanced into the front window again, no one was in the room.

     “I missed where he went,” Nathan whispered to himself in frustration. He reached for the bag, but didn't feel it. He looked over. It was missing again!

     He wasn't sure what was going on, but he felt the panic in him flare up again. He couldn't decide whether he should have been more concerned about his backpack or losing sight of Zena and the wizard. Both concerned him. It appeared someone was playing a trick on him.

     He did a second scan of his surroundings for his bag, when a thought suddenly struck him. If his bag wasn't hanging in the tree where he initially thought he left it, then the Gelert would have discovered by now that he moved. It was probably the wizard who was messing with him. And someone else was probably helping.

     Nathan ran through the thick branches away from the cabin. He needed some space to reflect on what to do next. Suddenly his left leg involuntarily shot up in the air followed by the rest of his body. He had stepped into a snare.

     To be continued…