The Magician
Denotes the ability to translate ideas into action, to use psychic powers to advantage; skill, diplomacy, self-confidence
I found myself standing at the counter with my plate of eggs in front of me, cold and rubbery. I put them in pumpkins bowl, and soon she had gobbled them down. I walked down the hall to my bed room, and changed out of my work clothes which I had left on, and changed into jeans and an old tee shirt. I tended to the other animals in the house, and then went out the porch door, shutting and locking it behind me. I went down the wooden stairs to the back yard, and walked over to the chicken coop. I fed the hens and checked their water. When I finished I started the trek to the farm.
It took me about an hour and a half to get to the farm where my horse was; when I got there I fed the other horses and then turned them out into their pastures. I didn't mind taking care of the 12 horses at the farm because the owners allowed me to board my horse for free. I mucked stalls, and then saddled up pixie, my fox trotter. She was a pretty horse, all white besides a black star like spot on her forehead.
I took her to the meadow behind the barn that once was pastures, but had fallen into disrepair. It seemed to go on and on and I often rode here. I mounted and walked thru the tall grass and wildflowers. I felt so alive when riding, the feeling of the horse allowing me to let go of some of my sorrow. After some time of walking we had gotten to the top of a small hill. I stopped pixie, and looked around at the large meadow.
As I was about to continue down the hill something spooked pixie. She reared and before my body could reconnect with the saddle she was running and I was on the ground. I landed hard, and my ears rang. I lay on the ground for what seemed like hours, but was only minuets. When I sat up I saw pixie as a speck, still running. I knew it would take awhile to find her, but I was more concerned with what had scared her so badly.
I turned, and what was a half colored robe was now a clear blue eye, and then the other was black as pitch. Dylan stood taller then me by a few inches, so he brought his face down to mine, his mouth was in a straight line, like he was worried, but his eyes were like sparks as he looked at me.
I hadn't seen him in two years, but unsurprisingly he looked the same. He reminded me almost of a deprived prince, charming but reclusive. He stood tall, and touched me gingerly as if afraid he would break me. He ran butterfly fingers down my left arm, and then down the upper part of my thigh. The pain from the fall was leaking to the spots he touched, but I figured nothing was broken since he didn't seem too worried.
"Stop. Freeze like ice. Return to your master, like a fly to honey." He whispered it so quietly under his breath that I thought he was mumbling to himself, but then when he looked up and past me I turned and saw the pin prick dot that was pixie returning.
Then as if mist I felt his lips brush across my forehead, and then he vanished as he had come. I stood for a moment before shakily walking towards my returning horse. 'Like a fly to honey' he had said, and as a fly would the mare came and licked me, as if apologizing.
As if tasting honey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I got home I contemplated the earlier happenings. There was one thing thou that I could not explain. I assumed as an A. O. D. that Dylan could come and go as he pleased, but could he also control living things, such as pixie?
Such as me?
I lay down on the couch and tried to dig thru the memories of all the past lives, could I remember his powers if I remembered my own? But as I thought I couldn't find anything special about me in all those past lives. As I got to the last one, again it burned away before I could 're-live' it. When I opened my eyes it was as if I had been dreaming, I yawned and sat up to stretch when I saw him.
I jumped a little, and this sadistic grin played on his pale lips. Had he watched me 'sleep'? Or had he just come? My face twisted into a half animalistic snarl, and a note of distaste escaped me as I stood. I walked right by him, not even glancing, to the kitchen to get some water. As I filled the glass I could feel him behind me, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of me acknowledging his presence.
As I drank from the small glass I looked out the window, I saw my reflection, and his. In the glass pane I could see him trying to decipher my blank face. I grinned internally at his conniption. This stranger or what I thought of as a stranger who stood behind me. He cared what I thought of him, right? I needed the amusement that his attention gave me.
I turned then, as I placed my empty glass cup on the smooth counter. His eyes lit up slightly, as if he thought that I was going to speak to him, treat him as if he wasn't a form of ghost. But instead I again tried to walk by him. This time though his voice froze me in anticipation before I turned mid way threw his sentence.
"Break, shatter, shards of glass like diamonds come apart. Fall like crystalline snow, become glittering powder." He said it quietly, but in an almost inhuman voice. And as I watched the glass of the cup become cracked as he stood, not touching nor even looking at it. And then as if thrown to the ground it shattered and became small glittery pieces in the sun light filtering thru the window, which remained intact. And the pieces that where as small as young snow flitted to the counter top to form a layer that resembled dust filled with diamonds.
“Does that answer your questions?" He said looking to me with almost impish triumph, ecstatic and mischievous. I nodded as I looked to the glass particles on the counter, interested and annoyed. After all he had broken my glass. But as if reading my mind, which I was then sure he could do, he moved his hand, as if transfixed, above the frost like mass and whispered under his breath. "Restore, repair, return to what it once was. Fix what is broken, new love to a broken heart." And then the glitter had formed into the shape of a cup, and solidified to its original form.
Though maybe he had just needed the last few words, but they almost seemed directed to me, as if unnecessary for the spell, but needed for a hidden message.
New love to a broken heart.
And as those words repeated in my head, and as I was about to ask how he could do such magic he again faded away.
As new love often does.
