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The evening was coming to a close on the peaceful plains of Mulgore and the caravan children were running back to their families, except for one little elf boy, who was crouching beside a tree, his face lighting up every once in a while. A human girl, around four years old, carefully approached the boy, who appeared to be similar in age to her, but a bit older in years. She gasped when she saw his face light up again in blue and white.
“Cris, what is that?” she asked cautiously. The elf quickly turned his head and closed his hand, looking at her as if he had done something bad.
“Nothing! It’s nothing! What did you see?
“Lights coming from your hand.”
“Lights coming from your hand.”
Cristianno smiled and nodded, “Come here!” He waited for the little girl to crouch next to him and slowly opened his hand. “Look!” As soon as he opened his hand, a little white spark ignited in a flash. The girl gasped, her eyes widened as she looked at Cris.
“What is that?”
“I dunno I started doing it today.”
“Maybe you’re sick, Cris.” She moved her dark hair away from her face. “Do it again!”
Cris nodded and looked at his hand. His fingers twitched slightly before igniting another spark. The girl laughed and clapped. “It’s kinda cool Dana.”
“It’s pretty!” Dana opened her hand and tried to mimic Cris, but failed. “How come you can do it and I can’t?”
“I dunno. I don’t even know what this is.”
“Maybe you should tell your momma, Cris.” The boy nodded and stood up, taking his wooden sword that was leaning against the tree. He opened up his hand again and another spark lit up his face as the darkness began to fall around them.
Cris smiled up at Dana, “Do you like it?”
The human girl nodded, smiling brightly. “It’s very pretty!”
“Momma would like it then! She likes pretty things!” He laughed and ran toward the caravan, followed by Dana.
“It looks like the stuff that some of the magic people do in the caravan.”
“Yeah! Maybe it’s like that!”
They arrived to the bright, crackling sight of the bonfire, where the gypsies had begun to dance and play their music. They had a week before the next Darkmoon Faire and they were enjoying their time as a family before the outsiders arrived. Cris and Dana laughed and ran toward the bonfire. Dana began to dance with her older sister but Cris began to look for his mother, who usually danced along with the other, but he didn’t find her there. He turned to their tent and saw her walking out with two bowls of food.
“There you are, my little one. I was wondering where you had gone off to. Dinner time.” She sat outside the tent and Cris sat on her lap, taking his bowl of food.
“Momma! I gotta show you something!”
“Finish your food first, Cris.” He smiled at her, looking into her blue eyes before taking the spoon and eating his meal.
“Momma! Something cool happened!”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full of food, Cris.” She looked up at a human man who extended his hand out to her. She smiled and patted Cris’ head before taking the man’s hand and walking toward the bonfire before they both broke out in dance. Cristianno smiled and continued to eat. After licking the bowl, he dropped it in front of the tent and ran to his mother, tugging at her skirt.
“Momma! Momma!”
“In a moment, Cris,” she responded as she continued to dance.
“It’s fine, Maerin. We can continue our dance later tonight.” The human winked at her and walked away. Maerin sighed and turned to Cris.
“Yes, baby?”
Cris grabbed her hand and tugged. “Come on, momma!” She smiled and followed him away from the bonfire, asking why they had to go so far into the darkness. “It’ll be better!”
They stopped at the edge of the caravan and Cris looked up, beaming at his mother. He opened up his little hand and with a twitch of his fingers, the bright white and blue light lit up his face. In that moment of brightness, he managed to catch his mother’s face, an expression of horror and disbelief. In those few seconds, Cris’ smile vanished right before his mother’s hand crashed against his, stopping the light and stinging his hand
“Cristianno, you are never to do that again, do you hear me?”
His little lip quivered as he held his hand close to his chest. “But…momma…”
“No, Cristianno! No! That is bad! Bad, bad, bad! The moon began to rise over the mountain peaks and started to faintly illuminate the plains. Maerin shook her head, her hand on her hair as she began to cry. Cris whimpered and sat on the ground, his hand still stinging.
“I thought you would like it ‘cause it was pretty…”
“No, Cristianno! That is magic and magic is NOT pretty!” She paced a few steps and turned to him, watching him cower on the ground. Sighing, she knelt in front of him and reached for his hand, which he flinched away, “Give me your hand, baby.” Cris didn’t look up as he gave her his hand. She kissed it softly and sighed. “I had forgotten that you might have had his gift…” She kissed her son’s forehead and moved his ponytail back. “Your father was a mage, Cris. He could do magic, just like you, without much effort. It ran in his family. I was hoping you would have inherited my family’s skills instead of his.”
“Da?”
Maerin sighed and covered his lips with a finger. “That man. Not your da. We don’t call him your father. I forgot…”
“That man could do that?”
Maerin nodded. “He was a very good mage. Pompous like the whole lot of magic users.” She sighed and looked at her hands, “Look, baby.” She showed him her fingers and Cris’ eyes brightened, as a faint light seemed to emerge from her fingertips. Just as it faintly appeared, it quickly disappeared. “I come from a family of healers, but I have rejected my calling. I don’t want anything to do with magic.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “And neither shall you.”
“Magic is bad, momma?”
“Yes, baby. Magic is bad.” She hugged her son and sighed, “Magic is very bad. Stay away from it. Forever.”
***
Cristianno watched his beloved using magic around him. Silvermoon was filled with magic users. The world was overwhelmed with magic. His mother’s words rang in his heart and he closed his eyes. He had learned to cope with magic users, but he knew he would never go back on his promise to his mother.
“Magic is bad,” he silently re-affirmed to himself before turning to his beloved, who smiled back at him. “But I trust her.”
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