Once upon a time, in a very far off land where olive trees made a familiar pattern on the hills, a family of travelling magicians moved into the creek. There were three to begin with, a mother, a father and a healthy teen and all were adept at weaving straw into gold and sticks into shelters. They picked a neglected spot along the stream to make their home, right at the edge of the tide, and nestled in amongst the willows and rushes of their people.
Children and their parents sometimes stopped near their camp to watch a party trick or two. The magicians could juggle brightly colored lights and carry trees on their fingertips and it was amusing for the townspeople to see. But back at the castle, the stern old mapmaker was not amused, and argued that the magicians would call the Great Waters to rise up and flood the small village, drowning their homes and cattle. He directed the magistrate to kill the magician family, and the decision was swiftly made to execute.
‘Such decree of death caused public outcry for those who had enjoyed the magicians waterside display, and the sentence was softened to banishment when the children began to cry at the great meeting where it was considered. A gathering was planned to consider the fate of the magicians, and all the people left their huts and hovels to join in council around the fireside where important decisions were always made. There were four on the dais and four hundred in the fields. The magistrate’s brought in high priests with yardsticks to speak of the Great Flood the magicians would bring if allowed to stay, and the people spoke of their talents and treasures and asked that the magistrate find a wizard who could prevent the flood and allow the magicians to remain.
Faced with such a united and determined voice, the magistrate appointed a council of seven and charged them with the weighty task of finding such a wizard and setting him to its dilemma. Perhaps he expected the task to be impossible, and hoped to divide the inevitable failure by seven and share the blame for banishment. However, these seven quickly scoured the nation for the best skills in the land and the sharpest minds of the nation. After 90 days of searching they brought forth a great wizard the Green Mountain State and, after much council and deliberation, employed him for the position.
Sir Gallop of Lisle was tall and stern as he surveyed the magicians’ lair and considered the risks of the great flood. The pulses of many a maiden fluttered as he strode shirtless into the shallow creek to see what damage might be called. Despite the prodigious difficulties he knew just what must be done, and he used an enchanted conduit to move some of the powers from the area so that the magicians could cause no harm. With the new bypass in place, even the yardsticks of the high priests could assess no risk of flood. There was great rejoicing and many sighs of relief, and the townsfolk bought Sir Gallop many tankards of finest ale before he returned to his home in the green mountains.
Now the magicians have lived in the town for three autumns, and the townsfolk still love to gather and watch their displays. The enchanted conduit works day and night to direct the power, and in the late summer the townsfolk gather for a festival to celebrate the magicians presence in their town. Come join them some evening to watch the juggling of brightly colored lights at the waterside, and remember that your town may get magicians soon.
