Chapter 10½ - Let the training commence...
The next morning, after a good breakfast they left Jon and entered the little schoolroom; his dad took his wand and said,
“Scene 1. Out on the plain.”
Tom found himself outside, white sand stretching to the horizon where it met a pure blue and cloudless sky, just as he had momentarily seen the day before. There was no wind and no movement. Tom looked around; nothing between him and the horizon in any direction.
His father spoke, Tom looked round to see where he was, but he was still completely alone.
“Tom, you have a special power which we discussed yesterday that did not come from me. Twice yesterday, time stood still for you. I have no real idea of how you did it, how it works or why. I do have a theory about what triggers it, but it’s only that, a theory, an idea. We need to develop and control it, see how it works, understand it. It is something I have never seen before. First, I’ll send by something small, a butterfly, try and freeze it in time and space.”
Tom sensed movement in his peripheral vision. It was a butterfly, flying in its normal erratic fashion, darting up and down and from side to side in the random fashion typical of the species.
Tom looked at the butterfly, pointed his wand at it, screwed up his face and willed the butterfly to stop. Nothing happened, the butterfly continued in its own way. Another came, Tom went red with concentration the veins on his neck stood out, but nothing happened, the butterfly continued fluttering across in front, up, down, to the left, to the right and into the distance.
“Well, that didn’t work,” his dad said, “let’s try again.”
Another butterfly wafted by. Tom concentrated. Stared at it, glared at it, screwed up his face again in concentration, his eyes felt like they would pop out of his head. He strained so hard that an involuntary botty burp popped out. That completely ruined his concentration and he nearly fell over laughing.
“No Tom, no time for laughing, this is serious. You have to learn how you did it; in fact, we have to learn, so you can repeat it whenever you need to.”
Again, a butterfly came by, and as before did flutter by.
The next butterfly was different, as it came close, it turned and looked at Tom. From nowhere it opened a huge unreal and exaggerated mouth and rushed at him. It terrified him to his very core. The mutant butterfly stopped. Hanging in the air as if dead. Then disappeared as Tom’s dad ended the show.
“Well, that was my theory, and you may have just proved it. The power is fear-based. When you are frightened, very frightened, somehow your wand stops time. Let’s try again.”
Another butterfly came bobbing along. Tom tried to stop it but again failed. In the corner of his eye, he sensed movement, he turned to see a huge Blue Dragon descending on him from nowhere. Again, before it could strike, it froze, hanging in the air as if he had just hit the pause button on a DVD; again, his dad made it disappear.
“I know it sounds silly but try to remember that fear and save it for whatever happens next.”
This time a small bird flew by. Tom tried to feel scared, but he couldn’t. The bird just carried on.
This went on for hours, butterflies, birds, dragons, rabbits, hell hounds, more birds, more butterflies, more dragons, more hell hounds. Nothing worked. The scary ones, he froze in time, the everyday birds, animals, and insects, just carried on as if he were not there.
The room reappeared. Tom stood there exhausted, wet with sweat and exertion, his dad sat in a comfortable chair smiling at him.
“Don’t be despondent Tom, we’ll get there, don’t worry. That’ll do for today, let’s rest up, eat, talk, sleep and try again tomorrow.”
They went through to the main living area. Jon was there looking, and feeling, slightly left out and with a hint of jealousy asked.
“So, how did it go today?”
They both spoke at once.
“I was rubbish.”
“He’s making good progress.”
“Come on, it can’t be both, which is it? Rubbish or good?” Jon smirked. He liked the idea of the boy wonder wizard not doing as well as expected.
“Both,” said his dad, "we were working on a bit of magic which Tom can do, but just doesn’t know how he does it.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” said Jon.
I know it doesn’t,” his dad replied, "and don’t ask about what bit of magic as Tom’s training is strictly between Tom and me. You know the rules Jon.”
“What rules?” asked Tom.
“Because every wizards’ magic is different, a teacher and pupil never discuss their lessons outside of the classroom, even with family.”
“Why?”
“It’s difficult to explain the rule, but for a change, there is a good reason behind it, it’s not one of their made-up rules. Because every wizards’ magic is individual, if they start talking about what they can and can’t do and how they can and can’t do it, another acolyte may, by using the same method, get it completely wrong and endanger both himself and those around them. It’s a bit like acting. A good actor can be very convincing about an emotion like sadness, but they all use different methodology and visualisation to give the appearance of sadness. Some do it by thinking of a close relative or friend that has died and that still both makes them not just look sad but be sad. They can shed tears very convincing. Another might remember a childhood event that hurt them so much they are still upset by the very thought of it. While others just think they are peeling onions and just the thought makes them cry. Alright, maybe not the last one," Llewellyn laughed.
Tom listened intently, trying to think of what made him scared, he could think of nothing. Then he remembered Mrs Glynn, his teacher. She scared the pants off him, just her name brought him out in a cold sweat. Yes, he thought, tomorrow I’ll just think of Mrs Glynn!
Over supper, there were many animated discussions about all the normal topics. Tom already knew that you don’t have to say wand or staff to make them appear, you only had to will it in your mind. Tom thought he would just test the waters with the thought of Mrs Glynn. He willed his wand out and hid it below the table out of sight, He thought about missing a homework deadline and Mrs Glynn and then wove that thought with the vision of stillness. The talking stopped, Jon froze, a potato on his fork halfway between plate and mouth, his father, mouth open, mid-sentence, stopped. Tom moved out from his chair and touched his dad with his wand, envisioning him moving, and he reanimated, carrying on his ramble about Cardiff City FC. A few words later he stopped, looked around, Jon was still, very still, the flames in the fire no longer flickering and the curl of smoke perfectly stationary. He smiled at Tom.
“How did you do it then?”
“Just thought of Mrs Glynn, she scares the poop out of me; she’s worse than Miss Trunchbull!”
They both smiled, Tom touched Jon with his wand under the table, re-imagining him moving and everything returned to normal. His brother hadn’t noticed a thing.
The next day, after breakfast, it was straight into the training room.
“First, back to scene one.”
Tom was back in the desert again, under the scorching sun. A butterfly came into view, as it approached, Tom saw Mrs Glyn in his mind and a missed maths test. The butterfly froze, his dad then sent a few more butterflies, birds, and other harmless creatures just to check it was not a fluke. Then the desert dissolved back into the classroom.
“Well done Tom but keep practising until you can do it without thinking, but also, don’t make it your get out for every situation. There are many more magical ways to get out of trouble. So be both imaginative and inventive. Know what you want to achieve, then weave that thought down into your wand and make some magic.”
“Scene two,” his father announced, “Back to the plain, but now it’s night, so keep your wits about you.”
He was right, whereas yesterday it had been scorching hot sunshine, now the temperature had plummeted and was almost freezing. With no light pollution, Tom could see a myriad of stars and planets. He remembered something Hadley-Smythe had told him one night when they were looking up at the night sky.
“If it’s a star, it twinkles, if it’s a planet, it’s a steady light, and if it flashes on and off, it’s either a plane or a UFO.”
He remembered them both laughing at that, probably the only funny line Hadley-Smythe had ever said.
Tom wasn’t scared, just slightly apprehensive about this situation, there was no moon, so apart from the stars, no light at all, "Staff” he muttered in a shivering mumble. His staff appeared. Now what? he thought. Can’t see a thing. Then he remembered his stones. Diamonds, the giver of light to fight against the darkness. Ruby, the firestone. Tom said and thought “Light!” and the top of his staff burst into a brilliant light that pierced through the darkness for what seemed miles. Tom held his staff high, and the light spread out all around him.
“Well,” said his dad inside his head, “you have now achieved two things. You have a light that allows you to see everything around you in any direction for many miles, but you also have a light that enemies, animals and other frightening things can see and be attracted to. So put that light out. You need a torch, not a lighthouse beacon.”
Tom hadn’t thought that one through. ‘Wand’, he thought. He then did two things, made the stone light up again, but not so brightly and he imagined the light to emit in one direction only, so now it acted more like a torch and not a lighthouse. ‘Better,’ he thought. Then he thought about the Ruby and about how a little warmth might not go amiss, he felt a trickle of warm energy race through his body. So now he could see and was not quite so cold.
“What next dad?”
He didn't wait long, a long snake slithered along the ground towards him. The snake was a good twenty feet long and well over a foot in diameter. Tom’s immediate thought was to freeze time, but he knew he couldn't use that trick every time he had a problem.
He weaved a thought of a jet of fire coming from his wand, and a flame shot out like a small flame thrower. He directed it towards the snake and the snake slithered off in the other direction, unharmed.
Then he was back in the small schoolroom, his father, as usual, sitting in the armchair.
“What’s the matter? Why am I back so soon?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Just a change of scene. Scene three, a snow-capped mountain.”
Llewellyn had no sooner spoken, and Tom was on top of a mountain. It was freezing, many degrees below freezing. ‘Ooh!’ thought Tom, ‘I need some warmth.’ He radiated some heat around him from his ruby stone just like he did in the night scene a few minutes ago. As he did, the snow he was standing on started to melt at an alarming rate, within a few seconds he was down to his waist and then, moments later the hole he was melting was higher than him. He looked down, the hole was filling with water as the snow melted and he was already up to his waist in freezing water. He began to panic; he had stopped radiating heat but the latent heat he had produced was still melting the snow and he was still sinking. It reached his chin before...
He was back in the room again. Completely dry as if nothing had happened, but still shivering with the cold.
“You didn’t think that one through either, did you?” his dad said, "Before you do anything, unless you are in mortal danger, think. Do a risk assessment. What will happen if I do this, what will the consequences be if I do that? Think, think, think. As it was, you were in no danger, but if you suddenly found yourself in the mountains of Mynydd, you might be in serious trouble.”
Tom had no idea where Mynydd was and didn’t bother asking.
There was a pause while his dad thought a little.
“Tom, what exactly did Llewel teach you about magic in the few days you were with him?”
“Well, nothing really, just went on about how dangerous it was and how I shouldn’t meddle with it until I had lessons. But although he kept on about it, he didn’t teach me or show me anything. The only thing he could do was light fires.”
“That bloke is absolutely useless. He should have been called Ron the Elder, Ron being short for moron! Did he talk about flying or levitation at all?”
“Only to say it was too dangerous to fly because wizards had fallen from the sky when their magic failed.”
“Mmmm. He would say that, Llewel fears his own shadow. If he thought about it too much, his brain would probably fry. Flying and levitation are good tools both for travel and for avoiding ground-based predators, if you could have levitated you would not have sunk ten feet into the snow just then. You don’t have to be a hundred feet in the air to get out of trouble. For a snake, for instance, just a few feet could put you out of harm’s way, and if you must fly, although it’s not my favourite form of transport, again, you won’t die if you only fall a few feet. Flying has its place though and it’s something you should learn. So, let’s do it.”