A short,
muttered incantation brought forth a sphere of water the size of a golf ball. With his complete focus on the conjuration, Timothy
held it floating there in the air for a second longer before allowing it to drop
and splash onto the wooden floor beneath where it seemed to immediately
evaporate. Next was fire. A similar whispered incantation came forth
from his lips, and flame of the same size of that of the water also came forth
from seemingly nothing. Timothy reached
for it slowly, deliberately, never once glancing away. Upon touching it his eyes widened and he
pulled his hand back, sticking his finger into his mouth. Simultaneously, the fire burst, creating a small
heat wave that warmed Timothy’s face. He
smiled, pleased and yet also awed. “Always
amazing,” he said to himself.
Again,
water. Confidently, he spoke the same incantation
as earlier, and again the sphere of water came out from nowhere. This time Timothy held a bowl underneath the
orb and continued the ritual. “Permaneo.” The water dropped into the bowl, but this
time did not disappear like it had earlier.
With obvious familiarity for what he was doing he poured the water into
a pot in which grew a single flower with yellow petals and three green leaves.
Nicolas
took a moment to pause and put a hand to his forehead. Several droplets of sweat made steady
progress down his young face, despite the low temperatures of the particular
February afternoon. After getting up and
walking around his room a couple times, he sat back down in the same spot in
the middle of the floor. He glanced at
the analog clock next to his bed, and nodded to himself. This time it would be the extended ritual for
fire. The initial incantation. Out of nowhere came the fire. Then the second step, “Permaneo.” The fire stayed in place as Timothy continued
to keep it in his gaze. He brought a
candle up to the steady flame and lit it.
Smiling, Nicolas set the candle down and took a deep breath, still with
complete concentration on the flame. “Accelero.” With that word, the flame sped forward,
straight into a sheet of metal that Timothy had earlier set against the wall about
five feet away, visibly heating the surface of the sheet as it disappeared.
“On
track so far,” he muttered to himself.
Now it was time for today’s test, what he had been preparing for. First, water.
The miniature globe of water once again floated in front of Timothy. “Permaneo.” “Disiungo.” Bringing up his left hand he pointed at the
orb and as if it was attached to the end of a tethering pole, moved it closer
to the sheeting. With his right hand
still pointing at the water, he refocused his gaze on the space directly in
front of him. One last time, he brought
forth fire. “Permaneo.” He took one last, deep breath before softly,
but eagerly whispering, “Accelero!” The
fire shot into the water, causing the two items to combine, creating a great
cloud of steam accompanied by a shrill hissing.
“Yes!” Timothy yelled, flinging his arms into the air. “I did it!”
A
minute passed as Timothy sat there, satisfied.
Then came the recognizable sounds of his dad’s car door slamming shut
and moments later, the front door opening.
“Timmy!” his father yelled, “Time to get you to basketball practice!” Quickly, Timothy wiped the sweat from his
face, blew out the still-lit candle, and shoved the candle under his bed along
with the bowl and the metal sheeting.
Already dressed for practice, he ran down the stairs to the main floor
and out the door, climbing into the back seat of his dad’s Ford Focus.
“Atta
boy, Timmy,” said his father enthusiastically, “Excited for practice?”
Timothy took a moment,
considering his words, and finally simply said, “Actually, Dad, I don’t think I
much like basketball.”
Glancing
at his smiling son through the rear-view mirror, he chuckled as he replied, “You’re
a funny boy. You get that from your
mother, I reckon, heh. Anyway, what else
is a boy of your age going to do with his free time?”
Timothy
smiled to himself. “You’re right
Dad. I can’t wait.”
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