Notes from An Alien

~ Explorations In Reading, Writing & Publishing ~

Friday Fantasy ~ Number Thirty

White Wizard ~ Black Wizard

As he traced the last line of the sigil on the cave wall, it began to glow…

White Wizard - Black Wizard

Image Courtesy of Afonso Lima ~

He meant no harm—had never meant harm—was only taking these actions to protect the people.

They called him the white wizard and his forced retirement was about to end…


At the edge of the forest, another wizard invoked the spirits and cast his enchantment, feeling a thrill of triumph.

The elephant would fly to the forest kingdom and destroy the log-palace—the people would be groveling in their subduction and clamoring for his help.

He stroked the trunk of the beast and thought of the weak-willed white wizard—off in his cave, still licking his wounds…

He made a shrill whistle, calling his beloved bat.


He knew a direct assault on the black wizard would fail—had failed him those nineteen moons ago…

He knew his nemesis would strike in darkness—knew the animal the evil one would enslave with enchantment.

He’d chosen his defending animal with care—smeared the poison on its teeth, assured it would find its mark…


As darkness approached and the elephant’s airborne and appalling sounds reached the people’s ears, the King was cowering in his inner chambers.

All bemoaned their fate—all had lost faith in the white wizard…


The moon rose with a strange haste…

No sounds in the forest, not even the frogs…


A chambermaid of the Queen, on her terrified way to find an herb—forced to leave the palace because the plant must be plucked in moonlight—was frozen by an apparition—a tortured trumpeting coming from an impossible elephant, soaring above the trees…


The white wizard held his defending animal before the glowing sigil—informing it of its mission—then, released it to its task…


The elephant hovered over the palace, terrified in its ensorcelled plight, terrifying the people with its otherworldly screams—the black wizard drooling in his mad control of the people’s fate…


In the cave, prayers were ascending—supplications of intense longing—pleas for otherworldly Aid…


A small animal flew through the chilled night air…


The elephant was straining against its imposed suspension—legs thrashing, ears flapping wildly, trunk whipping the air…


The black wizard didn’t noticed the bat alighting on his shoulder, didn’t feel the bite—his body slumping from the poison…


The elephant was freed from its spell—its frenzied motions imparting a momentum, carrying it just beyond the palace to crash into the lake.


No one believed what had happened…

Still, as is natural, they repeated the story down through the ages…

And, as is natural, they appended a moral:

“The struggle of good against evil is only won when evil defeats itself…”

Copyright, 2014, Alexander M Zoltai
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