Little Adventures - Part 1

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There in the clouds, where the birds take majestic flights and the sunshine reaches to every nook and corner, a figure could be seen hovering over the clouds. From a far away distance, it looked like a large bird, extending its powerful wings as it rode the currents of the wind. On a closer look, one could see its golden-brown feathers, its body resembling that of a fierce lion, its eagle head bearing sharp sight that could see in great detail at long distances. On even a closer look, one could see something…or someone in its sharp claws as it took the flight, clearly finding way among the clouds towards a destination.

That was a griffin, a majestic protector in the land of Magicor, a cloud ridden kingdom of wizards and witches. The sun shone brightly, reflected off the silvery vest that this griffin wore. They donned on special armors, enchanted by the wizards to be resistant to mightiest of spells and weapons yet weigh as light as a vest of feathers. In its claws, the goblin squealed, trying to wave its hands. The goblin itself was a magical creature, riding on a mighty crow and ready to slip in the magical kingdom of Magicor.

Apparently, their kind were quite amazing in thievery and who could resist hiring them for stealing something from Magicor? There was another perk of the goblins too…a very sad one. They were disposable… Same as this goblin spellcaster that tried to throw fireballs at the griffin. Its crow had been defeated by this majestic creature and now the goblin awaited his fate. He wished he was told about the mighty protectors of the kingdom Magicor that were also used for the transportation by wizards living in that place.

Finally, the journey through the air came to an end the moment that griffin saw the golden hues forming the linings of a kingdom. It was the mighty kingdom of Magicor, a place for spellcasters and skilled magic wielders to find sanctuary in. Its pointy towers, floating inns and mansions made up of red and yellow bricks were a feast for the eyes. It was like a floating isle, harboring hundred…no thousand houses and buildings at once. And in the coming years, it was thought to be expanding.

Finally, the goblin found itself dropped in a nearby cage as the griffin wearing that silver vest landed on that isle. The goblin looked around, seeing the cage it was dropped in. On one side, there was the garden, brilliant and wonder that formed a thorn wall around him. And on the other side, the goblin saw the cage’s invisible boundary, protecting the prisoner from the long fall beneath. This kingdom built on highest of mountains, rivalling the height of the clouds that hovered around.

There in this magical kingdom, there was a street unlike the other streets. The name of the street didn’t need explanation for the mansion at the end of this place was the landmark of this street. The name, “Oblivious White Wolf” gave it all. You see, the wizards and witches were quite solitary creatures. Yet, they also loved the company of familiars. The familiars weren’t pets, though they were commonly called that by inhabitants that lived on the world below, also known as “Land of the In-Pure”. The familiars were companions, the animals with powerful wisdom, enhanced through magic and alchemy. In a way, they were truly magical pets but try telling that to a wizard or witch. Be it the squirrels, tigers or ravens, all were equal either in mystical skill or unparalleled knowledge.

Here in this street, the talk of the white wolf familiar filled the tavern discussions and the bedtime stories for children where the oblivious familiar allowed the wizard to be enchanted by a nymph. Whenever a matter of nymph was involved, there was only one output. Considering the mischievous and wanton nature of nymphs, the wizard had been expecting that. He still remembered the day when griffins carried a little baby boy in a fruit basket to the wizard’s house. Half nymph and half wizard…that was what the boy was and that was what exactly made the street famous.

The mystical white wolf that was the familiar of the wizard had allowed his master to be lulled by the song of a nymph. For some, the combination of a wizard and a magical being such as nymph was a recipe for disaster. The street would soon be named after the mischievous eleven-year old boy that had been the life of this place. He was named Orto, nickname for Oldorin by his father, Aporton, a legendary wizard with many accomplishments.
Even today, as the sun had risen, cackles could be heard from the poor wizard’s house. Some mischief had happened.

Apparently, the griffon that had carried the goblin once roamed around this street, taking a dump in one of those stables found in every street. And then you can guess what attracted an eleven-year old boy most!
The old man sat in his long robes with design like stars imprinted on them. The wizard was known for many things including having a half nymph eleven-year-old boy as son. But it was also known that he was one of the oldest and most powerful wizards, serving the elder council that ruled over Magicor.

He looked like your wise old man, his eyes as blue as the robes he wore and his face having graceful features even with the wrinkles. One could tell that this gentleman would have been incredibly handsome in his youth. Even with the long beard, the old man looked quite graceful.
His sharp gaze inspected the newspaper as he read the moving pictures. Right beside him, the white wolf sat, his pupils as blue as the ocean itself. Both were enjoying the peaceful morning as the wizard Aporton sipped the concoction. That witch Esmeralda knew her craft too well. Her coffees and concoctions were famous for a reason.

The door opened with a stench of something foul and pungent. What the hell was it?! The moment Aporton threw a stern at the door, he found the eleven-year old Orto, standing while covered in strange mud like substance. His fair skinned round face with brown hair and sharp green eyes were filled with laughter and mischief. He was short for an eleven-year old or that was what he was always told.

“Heavens forbid…what the hell is that?” the old Aporton asked, his blue eyes inspecting the boy from head to toe. God, this boy was trouble! The white wolf stood up, his fur reflecting the purest of shades of snow. He too looked at this troublemaker that had found somewhat a new way to delay his father from a very important event. Seriously?!

The old man got up, losing those robes and instead changing into old garments lying around. What the hell had Orto gotten himself into? Seriously what the hell was wrong with this child? Kids his age were going to school and learning magic. And on twentieth moon of a wizard or twelfth year of the children’s age, the proper initiation would begin by a magical ritual and the child choosing a familiar. He wondered if the familiar of Orto would be equally as mischievous. Heavens forbid no!

Wearing the clean but old pale garments, the wizard Aporton carried the eleven-year old Orto to bathroom, practically throwing him in that bathtub which of course felt like a fun thing for Orto. The white wolf came into that large bathroom, bringing his white snout to the Orto’s side. He regretted doing that! Ortho grabbed it and shook it. In that time, his nostrils were bombarded with the pungent smell, feeling everything the griffon had devoured. Heavens no!

He looked at the wizard with blue eyes almost tearing up. The nostrils had taken in too much!
“Griffin mud you say? Oh boy…why did it have to be griffin mud! Seriously why Orto?! Why can’t you stay out of trouble?” the old wizard Orto yelled at the boy. To his response, the eleven-year old Orto just laughed, very happy at the fact that the bathtub was making bubbles. He wondered if he could use the magical spell on Orto to make him a little obedient. The next moment, he felt the presence of many wizards passing by, smiling at the typical sound of old wizard wincing and the eleven-year old Orto cackling. And they could sense magic too…

Oh yes! The laws forbade you to use magic on children, even if you wanted to use it to give them a nice and clean bath quickly. He would have put an enchantment on Orto to make the dirt and other filth just slip off his skin. But that would mean breaking the law and he knew how big of a thing this would be. He cursed silently, not wanting Orto to pick up a new word which would give heart attack to that old witch always gave him candies.

“Ugh! I had to go ahead and enter into that drinking race with a nymph. Not a dwarf or even troll! Merlin’s beard!” he cursed in his own manner, not knowing that Orto had been listening. The white wolf knew what was going to happen next. He stepped back, hiding behind his master, knowing that the eleven-year old was going to throw a tantrum.

A splash of water came at the wizard, wetting his neatly combed white beard. The white wolf was wise enough to hide behind his master, saving his white fur. He hated being wet!
“Have you ever seen a troll? You wanted me to be half troll?” Orto emphasized on the word, “troll”, giving a clear indication that what the wizard had said wasn’t funny.
The white wolf gave a victory smile to his master, as if telling that he had predicted it on time. The victory smile wasn’t going to last very long. Another splash came, wetting his perfectly combed fur.

That was it! This elven year-old boy was going to have a thrashing! Orto was lucky that the white wolf had eaten already and wasn’t much in cranky mood. Otherwise, he would get into the bathtub and give that naughty boy a lesson. It wouldn’t just be grabbing his arm and throwing him away. The white wolf would also have shown his magical prowess to the young child.

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