Aurelius and I (8 page)

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Authors: Benjamin James Barnard

Tags: #magic, #owl, #moon, #tree, #stars, #potter, #christmas, #muggle, #candy, #sweets, #presents, #holiday, #fiction, #children, #xmas

BOOK: Aurelius and I
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“Well, I was out foraging early this morning – really early, before daybreak, it’s the best time for it you see, before all those pesky squirrels have stolen all the good food. Anyway, I’d barely filled a third of my basket when I ran into Ernie, you know, the badger? Anyway, he was in a terrible state; he told me he had just been to visit The Great Raymondo who had warned him to get home quickly, as one of the bats with whom he shares his cave with had seen Captain Blackheart and his men right here in the forest earlier that night.”

At least, I think that’s what she said. Well, the gist of it anyway, in truth the words fell from her mouth with such speed that they all ran into one another and I had found it very difficult to discern any of them, and even more difficult to believe any of those which I had managed to discern.

“And did Ernie say where this anonymous bat had supposedly spotted Captain Blackheart, the most merciless warrior ever known, and lived to tell the tale?” asked Aurelius, a note of obvious suspicion having entered his tone.

“Right in the very heart of the Forest, somewhere along the western bank of the river, over near the caves.”

“And what else did he say?”

“Nothing.”

“NOTHING!?!” bellowed Aurelius. “
Nothing
about what they were saying, or what they were doing?
Nothing at all
?”

“No, nothing. Only what I told you. I came and found you as quick as I could, honest,” replied Rain in what was little more than a whisper. She was clearly afraid of Aurelius’s sudden change in mood, as was I.

“Okay then. Okay,” said Aurelius, his voice calmer, his face filled with an apologetic smile. “Thank you, young lady, you have been very helpful. Now, please don’t waste any more of your time here with me, you go and get on with your foraging, leave this to me to look into. There’s nothing for you to be worrying your pretty little head about, you can be assured of that.”

Rain smiled and thanked Aurelius for his help before leaving, looking anything but assured. Indeed, she seemed to be more afraid now than when she had arrived. I suspected that this was largely due to the fear which had been clearly present in forest’s usually ever-calm guardian at the mere suggestion of the arrival of this Captain Blackheart character. I must confess that I too was somewhat perturbed by my new friend’s reaction; if somebody as experienced and confident as Aurelius was scared of this guy, how was I going to be able to protect anything from him?

“Well, I suppose it’s about time that you and I were getting back as well, Charlie,” Aurelius asserted in a voice which echoed with suppressed fear. “We wouldn’t want your parents to worry now, would we?”

“Was she mad? Talking about getting a message from a badger, who heard it from some bloke, who heard it from a bat?” I asked, ignoring Aurelius’s less than subtle attempts to part with my company.

“No, Charlie, I’m afraid that Rain is quite far from mad, indeed she is usually a very reliable, level-headed young woman. You see, she is a tree elf, and tree elves are able to communicate with all animals.”

“Like Doctor Dolittle?”

“Doctor who-little?” he looked perplexed. “No, Charlie, I don’t believe so. Tree elves are a spiritual lot, they don’t give out titles. They believe that every tree elf should be considered equal to the next. I am unaware of this Doctor Do-Nothing fellow, but you should be very wary of him in future, Charlie, for I suspect that he may be a fraud.”

I decided to move on with the conversation, rather than try to explain the realities of Doctor Dolittle to a Fernator.

“So who is this Captain Blackheart anyway?” I asked.

“Captain Blackheart is Professor Balzanfjoord’s right hand man. He is responsible for The Professor’s dirty work. He is a very powerful, highly dangerous and utterly ruthless Gravlier – an enormous creature from the Orc family, but with skin blacker than coal as opposed to the emerald green of Orcs. His very name is enough to strike fear into the heart of anybody who knows of him or his evil deeds.” Aurelius’s tone had been serious and meaningful in his description, but casually returned to normal when he spoke again. “But there is no need for you to worry about him, Charlie. There is absolutely no possibility of Captain Blackheart coming here, to Hanselwood Forest. Rain has clearly been misinformed.”

“How can you be so sure?” I asked. “You said yourself that The Professor was trying to destroy the forest, so wouldn’t it make sense for him to send somebody he trusted to oversee it?”

“No, Charlie, it would not,” Aurelius replied firmly, but calmly. “You see, The Professor would not send his most powerful, and most trusted ally out of Roobatzi without good reason. It would leave Blackheart far less powerful and more vulnerable without the protection of the world of dark magic, and it would do the same to The Professor within Roobatzi, who, without his most fearsome general, would be more vulnerable to being overthrown by rebel elements. No, I can assure you that Blackheart is not here. Hanselwood Forest is simply not important enough to The Professor to be worthy of sending Blackheart. No, I’m afraid that the humans The Professor has bought off will very likely be more than a match for this little forest all by themselves.!

“What if you’re wrong? What if there is something special about Hanselwood Forest, and you just don’t know about it?”

“For the last time, Charlie, there is
nothing
special about Hanselwood Forest. And if there was, I would know about it. I have been the guardian of this forest for longer than you have, been alive young man!”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I just thought...”

“No, Charlie, please, do not worry yourself – it is I who should be apologising. Your question was a perfectly valid one and I realise that you meant no ill by it. However, there is another reason for my certainty on the matter. You see, The Great Raymondo is a genie, and everybody knows what traitorous beings genies are. They are completely incapable of speaking the truth.”

“Oh, I see... hang on a minute. You’re telling me genies are real? And they live in this country? But, I thought Rain said Raymondo lived in a cave. Aren’t genies supposed to live in lamps?”

“A common mistake I’m afraid,” Aurelius laughed. “Legend has it that one genie, many centuries ago, was cursed by an evil wizard to spend eternity trapped inside a lamp, to be used at will. That lamp was then found by a young human named Aladdin and the story worked its way into legend. Real genies can come and go as they please, they have no one master and must grant the wishes of anybody who asks them. As a result, most are recluses, hiding themselves away from societies where they are constantly asked to perform their gifts, often with terrible consequences. Instead they live in remote locations, speaking only with animals, for animals have neither the ability nor the inclination to ever wish for anything.’

“Genies can talk to animals, but animals can’t wish?”

“That’s right. You see, while genies can understand animals, and vice versa, animals don’t exactly
talk
. It’s more that they use sound to help communicate their mood, but, as with all creatures who are able to communicate with animals, the connection is largely telepathic.”

“I see.”

 

***

 

In truth, despite all the incredible things I had witnessed over that past few days, I was still having trouble coming to terms with a world where magic existed, especially as it was a world I was suddenly so firmly a part of. I guess it just takes time to accept the truth when it comes as a direct contradiction to a lifetime of lies. Indeed, I suspect that many of you are suffering from the same ailment as you read these words. And why shouldn’t you be? After all, I have seen all I have told you with my own eyes, whereas you have merely heard the second-hand ramblings of an old man. The majority of you have probably never experienced anything magical at all in your entire young lives. That is a great shame, but you still have plenty of time. Magic, unlike human society, does not judge people’s worthiness according to their years. Just remember this; in life, things are far more likely to happen to you if you believe that they will. This is a fact that counts double for magic, for in most cases you must truly believe it before you can see it.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

I had returned home late that night, having politely declined Aurelius’s invitation to stay for supper (which he had announced would consist of ‘Jumbleberry Pie’, before proceeding to tip all the carefully separated berries into the same enormous cooking pot. “Don’t worry,” he had reassured me upon catching me staring at him as if he were crazy, “I haven’t forgotten the accompanying vegetables – I’ve made plenty of sherbet-filled Yorkshire puddings for two”). Although the long summer days meant that it was not yet dark when I returned home, my parents were still angry that I had stayed out so late without telling them where I would be or when I would be back, especially as this had meant that my father had had to walk Baskerville, missing his favourite television programme in the process. After a long lecture about responsibility, I had been sent to bed with no supper, although, after an hour or so, my mother had secretly snuck me a few slices of cold pizza as she often did in such situations, not because she felt I deserved them, but because I was a very slim and pale skinned child and she was constantly concerned as to whether I was eating enough.

I awoke early the next morning, and so was able to join my father at the breakfast table before he went to work; a rare occurrence in our house during the school holidays, during which I usually took the opportunity to lie in. Clearly happy to see me, all the events of the previous evening had been forgotten and the three of us laughed and joked over plates of crisp bacon and scrambled egg, accompanied by unending rounds of hot, buttered toast and freshly-squeezed orange juice.

I must confess that my early rising that morning was no accident. You see, my father worked for the council - in what role, I had little idea, aside from the fact that it was a reasonably-paid bureaucratic position with little power or respect that he greatly disliked and performed only to feed and clothe our family. It was however, a role that rendered him the best person I knew to ask advice on the forthcoming development of Hanselwood Forest, and so, accordingly, I had set an alarm in order that I might arm myself with as much information as possible in order to help me succeed in my newly acquired quest to protect the secret of magic.

Not wanting to invite questions about why I cared about what was happening to the forest, or especially how much time I was spending there and who with, I bided my time before asking my question, talking about everything from the weather to our forthcoming family holiday to Great Yarmouth before broaching the subject I was actually interested in.

“What are you gong to be doing at work today, Dad?”

“Oh, just the usual boring paperwork, nothing that would interest you I’m afraid,” answered my father, pretending to dismiss the question, but clearly happy that somebody had cared enough to ask about his day.

“The paperwork’s important though. It might be boring but nothing would get done without it.”

“Well, that’s true, Charlie. I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Indeed he had said it himself, many times, which is why I knew it would be the right way to ease into the question I had actually wanted to ask.

“Are you working on anything to do with the redevelopment of Hanselwood Forest?” I ventured casually, trying hard to make the question seem off-handed and unimportant.

“No, that’s not really my department,” he replied. “Hang on a minute, that’s still supposed to be a secret, where did you hear about that?”

“Er, from June Carrick, her dad owns a building company so he knows all about those sort of things,” I said, thinking quickly before moving the conversation forward so as not to invite further probing. “So, do you really think it will happen then? Do you really think the council will let the entire forest be destroyed?”

“I’m afraid it looks that way, Charlie. The town is very poor at the moment and the money would come in very handy, plus there would be lots of new jobs available at the new shopping centre.”

“But what about all the creatures that live there?” I burst out a little too emotionally. “What will happen to them?”

“Well, Son, I’m sure most of the larger ones – squirrels, and foxes and the like – will be able to make their homes elsewhere,” replied my father soothingly, blissfully ignorant to the true nature of my concerns. “As for the bugs and the other small creatures, I’m afraid that most won’t survive.”

“But isn’t their anything that could stop it?” I asked desperately.

“Well,...I suppose if enough people from the town protested then the council would have to keep the forest, but I’m afraid that’s just not going to happen, Charlie. I know that you love the forest, but you’re one of very few who does. Everyone else goes to Englethorpe Woods instead, they say that Hanselwood is haunted, that all manner of strange beings from ghosts to goblins live there. I’ve never heard anything so stupid in all my life, but you know how silly people can be.”

“Yes, very silly,” I agreed, trying to suppress a smile. “And, unless people make a fuss, there’s no other possible way that the forest might survive?”

“No. No I don’t think there is. You see, the problem is that it’s just a plain old forest. If there was anything of archaeological importance there, or if it were home to any rare or endangered species, then that would be a different matter. The council would have to keep it by law. But, I’m afraid that’s just not the case.”

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