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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/984815-Malcolm
by K.W.E
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Fantasy · #984815
New fantasy story, first draft. All comments would be helpful. Thankks.
Malcolm sat at the desk stoically contemplating the glowing screen before him. Never in his many years of life had he seen such a machine. What was its purpose? What type of magic made this contraption tick?

“By all the gods this is a marvel!” Malcolm trumpeted into the empty room.

Slowly and deliberately he began the arduous task of mastering the mystery before him. Malcolm tried to remember everything Ralphie and showed him about the machines main functions.

“Lets see, the mouse moves the little arrow. The arrow marks what you want to do. Hmmmmm, left click twice and pictures or text will appear.”

Malcolm guided the arrow around the screen with unsure hands. Little folders marked ‘My Documents, My Computer, Internet Explorer, Yahoo mail.’ where visible on the left side of the screen.

“Ralphie said the Internet was the information highway, and that’s just what I need; information”

Two quick clicks on Internet explorer and presto a brand new screen appeared before him.

“Ah, so easy.” Leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms before him, gently working out the tension that built there while examining this wonder, Malcolm began his work in earnest.

Reaching to the small table to the left of the desk, Malcolm picked up the notes Ralphie had left for him. Skimming over the few pieces of paper, he found what he was looking for.

“Searching the net? That’s on odd statement. What net? This is a damn machine. This is a most unusual predicament I find myself in. Ah well, Ralphie’s machine requires Ralphie’s instructions.”

After reading the instructions on how to search the net, Malcolm decided to give it a go. Searching the screen he found the yahoo search box and clicked twice upon it. The yahoo search screen appeared. Malcolm had followed the instruction to a tee so far, now for the search.

Malcolm slowly typed the word ‘Magic’ into the empty white box then clicked on search. What happened next was a surprise for the old wizard. A new screen appeared with information about magic, a lot of information! According to his notes he must click on the ‘links?’ to get the information he desired.

Nodding his head in admiration, Malcolm spoke to the empty room. “This is truly, very powerful magic I work with.”

Scrolling through the first five or six listings, Malcolm found something that interested him. ‘All magic guide.’ Malcolm read the paragraph below the link. ‘Directory of magic, magicians, and illusions, with calendars, events, and links galore.’

This sounds promising, Malcolm thought. Two quick clicks and I’ll be teleported there.

The all-magic guide popped up and it contained yet more links for the wizard to click on.

“Great day in the morning!” exclaimed the net surfing wizard.

“Yet more links to click on. I seek information, not exercise.”

Malcolm read through the listings, ‘New magic sites, all magic listings, the top 100,’ and so on, yet nothing to be found on books of magic.

Maybe I’m approaching this all wrong, he thought. Perhaps I should look up spells, maybe even portals?

After hours of clicking on this link then that link, Malcolm became discouraged. All the information on this contraption seemed to contain nothing but tomfoolery and just plain nonsense. How was he to open a portal without his books? His precious books remained on his desk in his cramped but cozy hut, which over looked the great lake that provided him with much needed sanctuary. Now it was all gone, in an instant.

“Sympathetic magic, it must be. Ralphie said he was playing a game when he heard the commotion in the closet. What did he call it, ‘dragons and demons? No, ‘dungeons and dragons,’ that was it. He said he just finished reciting a new spell when he heard me thrashing about in the closet. It must have been a spell similar to one of my very own. The young magi said he didn’t write the spell down and couldn’t remember the exact words. This is a fine mess indeed.”

The sound of a door being opened then closed rather hard, filled the small room. The noise came from the first floor. Malcolm moved away from the computer and gently made his way across the bedroom floor towards the closet. As silent as a mouse, he eased the closet door open and slipped into the waiting darkness, quietly closing the door behind him.

Malcolm heard the thump of booted feet making their way up the creaking staircase. The thumping continued right up to the base of the bedroom door. The door squeaked open and Malcolm heard Ralphie’s voice call his name.

“Malcolm, where are you? Are you here?”

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Malcolm eased the closet door open and peered out of the small crack to make sure it was Ralphie and not some trickery being played by another young magi. Seeing the young man standing in the center of the room with books tucked under his arm reassured the old wizard all was well. Malcolm pushed the door fully open and stepped out of the darkness.

“You did the right thing, I’m glad you hid in the closet when you heard me come home.”

“I’m no fool, young magi.It is not my intention to be delayed by misfortunes any longer than necessary. I know not where I am or exactly how I came to be here. I do know you hold the key to this strange enigma that binds me to this plane. I don’t know which plane this here be, but I do know it is no home of mine.”

“Were you able to use the computer?”

“Of course, my boy. Do you think a man of my age and wisdom would have trouble following written instructions?”

“Of course not.” Ralphie replied.

“I was hoping you found what you were looking for. This whole situation is very surrealistic. I’m having a hard time believing any of this is real. At school all I could think about was what the hell happened. How did you end up in my closet? Something very strange is happening, I can feel it.”

Ralphie tossed his books upon the bed and sat in the chair by his desk where he removed his hiking boots, then proceeded to look at the old wizard quizzically. The old man stood near the bed deep in thought, his head slightly bowed and his eyes nearly shut. He truly looked like and old man asleep on his feet.

“It’s the game, boy.”

“The Gameboy? asked Ralphie. What does that have to do with anything?”

Malcolm looked at Ralphie with confusion in his eyes.

“The game, my boy. Don’t you understand? What ever brought me here has the power to send me back.”

“The game, of course.” Said Ralphie.

“That was what I said the first time, young magi.”

“I misunderstood. I thought you said ‘Gameboy,’ not ‘the game boy.’ Never mind, that would be a very long explanation.”

Ralphie sat looking at the old mage, what a site to behold. Malcolm had a long black beard, speckled with varying shades of gray. His hair was long and shabby and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a month. He was dressed in a long flowing robe, which tended to drag on the floor as he walked. The robe seemed to be made of a cotton fabric, and appeared to be of an earthen tone; the color may just have been the filth embedded into the material. If Malcolm was stranded here; he sure needed a make over.

“My mother will be home soon. We have to figure out what to do with you.”

Malcolm looked at the boy, shook his head in understanding, and then took a seat upon the bed.

“Yes, I will need lodging, food and drink until this mess can be rectified. What say you, boy? I shall stay here?”

Ralphie let out a sigh while shaking his head from side to side. “ My mother wouldn’t understand. As a matter of fact I don’t think she would believe a word of it, wizards aren’t a common site in this world.”

“What kind of a place have you summoned me to, young magi. A world without Wizards? Next you’ll be telling me there are no kings or queens to serve the land.”

“Well, there are no true kings or queens. At least not it the text of which you speak.”

“Blasphemy, boy, pure blasphemy.Who keeps order upon this world?”

“Many people seem to be in charge. It would take a great deal of explaining. Were we are, the president is the rule maker. There are other countries with different leaders. I hope that helps a bit.”

“President? A stranger title I never heard. He would be your king?”

“Ya, he would be what you would call king.”

“Then he is who I shall seek. Your king most certainly should have a wizard or two in his service, and every wizard worth his weight in gold would own a book of good magic.”

“Haven’t you heard a word I said? On this planet there are no wizards. We have people who call them self wizards, but they are the head of a very evil organization, and they have no special powers.”

“Black magi’s with no power? This is very unsettling, young magi, there seems to be much I need to learn about this strange place.”

“Before you learn more, I think we should get you cleaned up and decide on a place for you to sleep.”

“Cleaned up? I’m perfectly fine, boy. Why, I just bathed last month. I’m good for another three weeks. Not a bug on me yet.”

Malcolm looked himself over, felt around his beard, ran his long fingers through his tangled hair. “ Not a single bug.”

Ralphie shook his head in disgust, stood from his seat and left the room. A few minutes later he returned dragging a long full-length mirror behind him. Gently, Ralphie leaned the mirror up against his bedroom wall.

“Take a good look at your self Malcolm.”

“Step aside lad, let me look.”

Malcolm peered into the mirror. “Good heavens, young magi! My beard is no longer entirely gray nor my hair, my eyes no longer posses the deep lines that encircled them. My god boy, I look fifty year younger.”
“How old are you Malcolm?”

“Last count I was 157 years young, but looking in this mirror I could pass for 100.”

“Have you noticed anything else Malcolm?”

“Indeed I have, boy. I’m quite a handsome man.”

“No Malcolm, your clothes. Compare your dress to mine. Here nobody dresses in long robes. We wear pants and shirts. We also keep clean. We bath everyday.”

“The clothes I can change but bathing everyday is foolhardy and plain nonsense.”

“Malcolm, you have to blend in. Follow my lead no matter how foolish I sound and I’ll get you back to your old hut by the lake. Deal?”

“Well, young magi, you brought me here, so I believe it is you who will get me back. We have an agreement my friend.
© Copyright 2005 K.W.E (ricoboc at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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