Chapter 4
Enchanted Staff
The clear sky darkened in the afternoon. Thick nimbus clouds from the Suza Ocean in the East accumulated above. The breeze blew, urging every wildlife to shelter under the rattling leaves of the trees. Many flowers fell from their vines while the wild fruits barely hang from their branches.
Arthur sat in his room, looking at the window. With his gaze slightly raised, he watched the rain as it pelted the woodland, the sound ensnaring his consciousness.
He yawned, then dove on his bed. “Still no snow, huh,” he mumbled groggily, discontent marked his voice. “Maybe, this is really a tropical forest.”
***
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Mild knocks, accompanied by a low metal clatter, awakened Arthur from his sleep. He had been sleeping for a few hours, and the wooden sculptures shone above, greeting him for the night. The windows were already shut, but he could still hear the rain outside. He got up as the Goth Armor, which had a small helm and two curled horns atop it, entered the room.
“Hi, Pirro!” he greeted, but the armor didn’t respond. Pirro marched towards him as though a robot without sentience. Arthur didn’t mind. He smiled at Pirro as it took his hand and carefully guided him out.
“Hi, Garo! Hi, Servo!” Arthur also greeted the other two when passing through the living room. All of them had identical plates made from plain metal sheets, but their helms were different. Garo had the biggest headgear, adorned with a dark long pointed horn, while Servo had a smaller helmet than Garo, adorned with two short pointed-horns.
Katarina was sitting in the kitchen when he entered. Arthur salivated at the sight of corn soup, sautéed mushroom, meatballs dipped in tomato juice, grapes, and cheese. After taking a seat, he delved into the food like a hungry cub.
“Does it taste good?” Katarina asked, watching him devoured a meatball.
He nodded as he munched the food happily.
She smiled, “Arthur, tomorrow, we’ll start having lessons in the afternoon, okay?”
“Lessons?”
She nodded, “Yeah, honey, we’ll be learning reading and writing.”
“I already know how to read and write, though,” he replied, not diverting his attention from the meatballs.
“You do?” Her forehead crumpled a little. “But I haven’t taught them to you yet.”
He stuffed more meatballs to his wooden plate, then look at Katarina, his lips bent into an innocent smile. “I memorized them!” he said heartily.
The lines on Katarina’s face grew again, “How did you memorize them?”
“When Granny’s reading the books to me.”
“Are you sure?” She asked with a doubtful stare, her voice slightly firmer than usual. “Are you telling this to me because you don’t want to study?”
Arthur shook his head, “No.”
She heaved a sigh and gave him a half-smile. “Arthur, you can tell me if you don’t want to. We can always do that when you’re older.”
He pouted and said in a low voice, “No, I promise.”
“Okay, I understand,” she said, brushing his hair. “Finish your food first.”
Following their dinner, Katarina wiped and cleaned the table, and waved her hand. Then Pirro appeared with eight books and put them on the dinner table.
“Honey, can you read this title for me?” Katarina asked, tracing the title of a book with her fingers.
He nodded, “King Garo, the Kind King of Hareo.”
Katarina was stunned for a moment. Then she flipped the pages and turned to him, “How about this part?”
A smile surfaced on Arthur’s lips as he saw that it was his favorite part, “The soldiers of Morvolo advanced to the city of Luna. But the kind king marched with his knights to thwart the enemy before they reach the city. His bishop said, ‘My King, please don’t leave the cast–'”
Katarina closed the book, her eyes larger than usual. She searched for a particular book written in Si’rosé, her second language. “How about this one, Arthur?”
“That’s my favorite!” Arthur exclaimed, his smile growing wider. “Hula Duliri retrieved the Shard of Immortality from the tomb of his father and traveled south to take the Serpent Sword of the Moon Dwellers,” he read as her fingers traced the texts of the book.
For a few seconds, Katarina stared at Arthur with a blank expression, closing the book again in awe, her mind trying to comprehend what happened.
Yes, he did read them impressively, my Arthur! She beamed a smile and pulled Arthur into a tight hug. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “Honey, you are a genius!”
She let him go and met his eyes, “That’s amazing, Arthur. I can’t believe it!” She embraced him once again while Arthur’s face blushed.
“Does that mean I can learn magic tomorrow?” Arthur asked once she calmed down.
“Arthur,” Katarina patted him. “We talked about this yesterday, right? It’s too dangerous. Maybe in two years.”
“Two years? Isn’t that too long?”
“No, I honestly feel like you were born just yesterday. Two years not very long, Arthur.”
“Alright,” he replied, feigning a wide smile. “I’ll wait by two years then.”
Arthur went straight to his room. For a few more hours, he played with his toy puppet, which he named Hans. Then, he faked being asleep when Katarina came to his room and kissed him good night. Arthur watched the night passed by, staring at the shining sculptures above. Before midnight, he rose and placed his ear against the door.
Sorry, Granny, he thought.
He anxiously pulled the wooden door and peeked outside. Good, no one’s here. He crept with both arms and knees on the floor. Though it was very dark, he had stayed there for a few years that he maneuvered through the living room without bumping into any furniture.
“Hi, Servo,” he whispered as he stood on his toes, staring straight into the armors helm. He gently touched its tummy and said, “Funtore!”
Arthur almost jumped on his feet when Servo’s feet clattered and its breastplate clang. He looked around, praying that the sound didn’t awaken his grandmother. Not long after Servo stepped aside, the door slid open. Arthur placed both hands on his chest, still searching for any signs of life. When he was sure that Katarina wasn’t there, he stared in the sea of darkness ahead.
“Whoa!” Arthur shut his eyes when he stepped inside. Several stones that hovered overhead flashed into blinding lights. He was so startled that he had forgotten the weight of his shout for a moment. He gently opened his eyes to let his vision settle. Then he looked back, a breath of relief leaving his mouth as he saw that the door was closed.
Another mouthful air left Arthur’s mouth as he stared at the wooden stairs leading below. It had a crude design of a serpent’s body, and he could feel the wall compressing to crush his hopes to go down further. He treaded downwards while clenching his fist, his heart thumping.
After the first turn, the walls and stairs, built from gray stones, were unusually different. The serpent’s body split into three separate bodies, the design became even rougher and the lights dimmed each time he took a turn.
After two turns, Arthur stood in front of a tree-meter rusted iron door. Twenty-six serpent heads pointed towards it while the main body at the center stretched across the metal door. Its eyes, embedded with red stones, faintly glowed.
Arthur tried to push the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Then he jumped and tried to touch the eyes, but it was out of reach. After a deep breath, Arthur made some distance and dashed forward. He jumped, barely touching the eyes, and the door swung open.
His body hair stood stiffly from the sight. The chamber was dark, and it was bigger than Arthur remembered as though he hardly saw a quarter of it when he first woke up. Six enormous wooden shelves in the western wall towered more than five meters from the ground, stacked with books, thick and thin, big and small.
Arthur walked to the eastern walls, where several large cabinets stood. He examined the one at the center without cover. A long black wooden staff inside emitted a dazzling light and hovered several centimeters from the ground, shaking as though a heart beating.
Just what is this? He thought.
Arthur bent his neck closer, noticing that the staff’s pole was carved into a serpent’s body while the tip formed its head, and thing furry coated its back. A perfect spherical white gemstone, where the light came from, laid on its open mouth.
He stretched his arms to touch the staff, but an invisible screen stopped his palms. It was extremely transparent and didn’t refract the light emanating from the stone. He traced the surface but failed to find the edge after searching for a few seconds.
“So magic can be used like this…” he mumbled, still staring.
Suddenly, a low voice echoed from the cabinet, “Who are you?”
Arthur blinked many times. Did the staff speak just now? No, it couldn’t be, he convinced himself, shaking his head. I must be very tired.
“Who are you?” it asked again, now, clearly coming from the staff’s gemstone.
Arthur froze on his feet for a moment, his eyes widening every second. That thing spoke, didn’t it? He stepped back, sweat oozing from his forehead and back. He didn’t even realize that he already tripped and fell in the marble floor, his hand moving in reflex to support his weight.
“Who are you?” it asked for the third time, now, evidently enraged.
Arthur tried to stand, but his legs trembled. The dry air seemed to choke his airways, and even his bladder felt like bursting. He stared at it as the light it emitted gradually faded.
“Ar- Arth- Ar-” he stammered, gulping some air between his breaths. “Arthur,” he finally muttered, his lips trembling.
“Oh!” the staff exclaimed. “I am sorry for my rudeness, Sir Arthur,” it said, its voice suddenly becoming overly familiar and jovial.
Arthur didn’t respond. As he took the deepest breath of his life, he readied himself to jump up and run out for his dear life.
“Please, do not be scared. I will not hurt you.”
Arthur gulped the remaining saliva from his parched mouth. “Will you not?”
“Of course,” it exclaimed. “I could never do such a thing.”
Another dry gulp went down on Arthur’s throat, “Then what are you?”
“Me?” the staff laughed as though it was a funny question. “I am nothing more than a staff, of course.”
“A staff that can speak?” Arthur commented thoughtlessly, his mouth moving faster than his mind. He would have killed himself if only the staff didn’t speak again with courtesy.
“Well, I was a special staff, I guess,” it paused as it got out of the cabinet and glided towards Arthur. “Your father is very talented to have created me.”
“My father?”
“Yes, though it’s a shame that he died because of me.”
“You killed my father?” Arthur asked in disbelief.
“Ah, no, no, no, no… I can never do such a thing. After all, I am nothing but a staff,” it laughed again, gliding around Arthur. “Let’s just say, he sacrificed his life to craft me.”
Several more lines appeared on Arthur’s forehead. “Why would he do that?”
“You want to know?” the staff asked playfully.
“Not really,” he answered with a sigh. “I feel like you’re just messing with me.”
“I am not!”
Arthur shrugged. “Okay, then spill it.” It didn’t answer. Instead, it glided around Arthur again as he looked at it with tired eyes.
“Well, if you insist,” the staff said. “I am your father’s last memento, Sir Arthur! I am created for your use!”
“Yeah, right.” Arthur rolled his eyes, “You’re messing with me.”
“I am certainly not, Sir Arthur. I know it because he enchanted some of his memories to me. I am sure that he created me for your use.”
“Me?” Arthur asked, his face frowning, pointing at himself.
“Yes! Who else?!” it exclaimed, getting closer to Arthur.
Arthur shrugged, gently pushing the staff away. “You are creeping me out. I guess that’s the reason why granny locked you in here.”
The staff dropped on the floor, though still stiffly standing. “Why are you, Sir Arthur… and Lady Allegia… so cruel to me? I am nothing but your staff and yet… and yet…” it paused melodramatically as though it was genuinely hurt. “I have no doubts that you really are her–”
“I am what?”
“Nothing, Sir,” it said in a fake nervous voice. “You are his three-year-old grandson, just a few months older than I am.”
“I thought you’re gonna say something else,” Arthur said, scratching his head.
“I am!” it said, now, in a completely different tone, inching closer to him again. “Interested?”
“Nah,” Arthur shoved the staff away. “You’re just messing around and spout nothing but nonsense,” he added, turning to the direction of the door and then began to walk away.
“I was gonna say that you’re her mischievous grandson who sneaked in the secret chamber,” it said desperately, realizing that Arthur completely lost his interest. “Are you sure you want her to know about this?”
Arthur turned coolly, “Sure, though I am gonna tell her myself that, but,” he paused, an evil smile curving his lips. “I will also tell her about a certain weird staff that scared the hell out of me, and have it burned by tomorrow.”
The staff raced unto him in panic, “No, please, no, Sir Arthur! Mercy, please, have mercy on me.”
“Get away from me!” Arthur cried out, and to his surprise, the staff halted and hurled itself on the ground, a few meters away from him.
As the sound of the impact echoed, he had turned around and stared at it with querying eyes. “What are you doing? Tormenting yourself?”
“No!” it said with a defensive tone. “I moved away on my own.”
He grimaced for several seconds. Then after a while, a smile crept on his lips. “Hey, Mr. Staff,” he called out. “Smash yourself on the floor three times.”
“NO!” the staff shouted as it crashed again on the floor, thrice.
Arthur’s smile widened. It can’t be, he thought, visibly amused. “Now, throw yourself to the wall until I tell you to stop.”
As Arthur anticipated, the staff began lunging itself on the wall continuously, and even after half a minute, it showed no signs of stopping as it begged him for mercy.
“So this is magic,” Arthur mumbled, his eyes twinkling, as though the staff wasn’t suffering from it. Though, he wouldn’t have gone too far if it wasn’t unusually fishy in the beginning.
“THIS IS BARELY MAGIC,” the staff screamed. “THIS IS CRUELTY! IF YOU WANT, I CAN TEACH YOU REAL MAGIC!”
Arthur stiffened for a moment. Then he said, “Okay, you can staff now.”
“Hu!” the staff let out a sigh of relief as though it had lungs and mouth before gliding in front of Arthur. “I thought I was gonna die.”
“Die?” Arthur looked in disbelief, scanning the staff’s body. “You didn’t even have any dent.”
“Yes! I wouldn’t break! It didn’t hurt!” The staff burst out. “But smashing to stone walls still scares the hell out of me! At least consider my feelings, you, child fiend!”
“Fiend who?” Arthur asked, raising his right brow.
“No, no, no, no, I mean, child friend of mine,” it said with nervous laughter.
“Yeah, right.” Arthur shrugged, heaving a sigh. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Name?” it replied, now back to being proud. “I don’t need such lousy hum-“
“Then, let me call you Duliri,” Arthur interrupted, beaming a smile.
“I don’t need such-“
“Duliri or floor smashing?”
“Okay, okay. Duliri it is.”
Arthur smiled again, and as innocent-looking as it was, Duliri could only tremble at its sight. How could this child be only a three-year-old? He thought, cursing the gods for his future misery.
