Way of The Wand

As Jira and her students would discover on the day of the task for smarts, the arena had gone through some changes to allow for the intricacies of the task. Three walls had been erected on the stage to form a rectangular structure open at one end, with an additional wall at the middle of the rectangle to divide it into two partitions and a roof made of thatch to cover it all.

The crowd was even bigger than last time. The increase in attendance came from people recounting the exciting experience of watching Lila zip past on a burning broomstick to their friends and family. Everyone had come to see what the fuss was about.

Jira scanned the crowd for her mother, picking her out easily among the pool of people.

The only wizard in the crowd brave enough to spot a pink coloured coat to an occasion like this.

Kalinda came up to Jira, wearing a smile even more sly than usual.

Jira folded her arms over her chest. “What deviousness are you up to this time mother?”

Kalinda pressed her hand against her chest in indignation. “That is no way to greet your Mum.”

Jira’s suspicions were confirmed when Sharazan came up to them to announce that there had been a slight change in the rules.

“To make this tournament more fun, we decided to add a little chaos to it.”

Jira cocked her head one way as she tried to make sense of what Sharazan had just said.

The old wizard brought out a gold coin and held it up for Jira and Kalinda to see. “We’re going to let fate decide who gets to compete today.”

“No!” Jira disagreed flatly. “I already told Tomi she’s going to be today’s champion.”

“Ahaaa,” Sharazan groaned, “she might still be, if the gods will it.”

“Oh, don’t give up now,” Kalinda teased her daughter. “Your champion did so well yesterday, I was beginning to think your students were equally competent in all fields.”

The stretch of time that passed as Jira pondered this new rule seemed drawn out. At last, she agreed and told Sharazan to toss the coin.

Sharazan turned to Kalinda. “Heads, and Korath competes today, tails, and Daila competes instead.”

Kalinda nodded and Sharazan tossed the coin into the air, caught it and revealed which face was up. “Heads, Korath competes today.”

Kalinda pumped her shoulders, satisfied with the outcome.

“Now you,” Sharazan said, facing Jira. “Heads, and Tomi competes today, tails, and Timi competes instead.”

“No,” Jira objected. “I choose. Heads, Timi competes, tails, Tomi competes.”

Sharazan smiled. “Very well then.” He flipped the coin and caught it.

“Tails. Looks like today’s Timi’s day.”

“No!” Jira argued. “That means Tomi will face Daila in the task for strength. I can’t allow that.”

Jira knew just how powerful her older half-sister was. This must have been what Kalinda was hoping for. Even if Timi won today’s task, Daila would most certainly beat Tomi in the final task. With two wins, the wizards would claim victory.

Jira pointed a finger at her mother. “Oh, I know what you’re trying to do.”

Kalinda shrugged, pretending to have no idea what Jira was talking about.

Jira wagged her index finger at her Mum. “You arranged this.”

“I didn’t arrange anything,” Kalinda said, “you saw Sharazan toss the coin yourself. We simply let the gods choose.”

Jira turned to her students. “Everyone, it’s over. We’re going home.”

“Jira,” Tomi protested again. “I know you’re worried about me facing Daila, but I refuse to quit.”

Kalinda chuckled to draw Jira’s attention. “Well would you look at that. It seems your students have more faith in themselves than you have in them.”

Jira snapped at her Mum. “That’s because she doesn’t know Daila like I do. Your firstborn is just as ruthless as you Mum.”

Jira waved to her students. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Jira please,” Tomi begged.

Jira turned to Timi in exasperation. “Would you please talk some sense into your sister?”

Timi shook his head. “I’m with Tomi. We are witches, not quitters. We will see this to end, no matter what.”

Jira let out a frustrated groan, before sighing and regaining her composure. “Sharazan, Kalinda, would you leave me and my students alone for a minute?”

Sharazan and Kalinda walked off to give Jira some privacy.

Jira bent down, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

Tomi and Timi nodded.

Tomi gestured to Lila. “She didn’t give up yesterday, and she had many reasons to. Lila saw her challenge through and so will I.”

Jira dipped her head and stared at the ground, trying to tuck away all the emotions, anxiety and worry coursing through her.

“Okay,” she said, raising her head. “We’ll carry on.”

“Yes!” All the students echoed.

Jira sent Timi off to join Sharazan where he was while she led the remaining students to their seats on the stands.

Once Korath joined Timi at the stage, Sharazan spoke out in a voice that carried over to the extreme reaches of the stands.

“Today’s challenge is simple. This is a task that tests for smarts, not speed, not strength, smarts.”

He pointed to the rectangle, separated by the middle wall into two partitions. “These two partitions mean our champions today won’t be able to see what the other is doing. No spying, no copying. Whoever is smarter shall win.”

Sharazan beckoned on some assistants to come and set the challenge up.

The assistants’ hands danced furiously as they got the place ready for the challenge. When they left, Timi gasped at how much the partitions had changed.

On the far end of each partition, was an elevated podium, bearing a ribbon.

The walls, which had been normal before, were now filled with eyes; threads hung down from the roof and the ground was covered in white sand.

“What is going on?” Timi asked.

“Ah yes,” Sharazan said turning to him. “All you have to do to win is grab that ribbon on the platform at the end of your partition. But beware, if the eyes in the wall see you trying to do it, the ribbon will disappear, if your body as much as touches the threads hanging from the roof, the ribbon will disappear, and if your feet touch the white sand on the floor—”

“Let me guess,” Timi interrupted Sharazan, “the ribbon will disappear.”

“Oh my,” Sharazan gasped, “you are smart.”

Sharazan called to Korath to get his attention. He made sure both champions were listening to him before he added, “Did I also tell you that you have just three minutes to get that ribbon?”

“What!” Timi exclaimed. “How are we supposed to complete this impossible task in such short time?”

Sharazan bowed to them. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

He walked away from the champions and faced the crowd.

“The task starts…now!”

Timi took the partition on the left while Korath took the one on the right.

The first few feet into the partitions were clear, but past the point where the white sand began wasn’t safe.

Knowing he didn’t have much time, Korath acted quick. He used his wizard powers to make himself invisible and intangible so that he floated through his partition without stepping on the white sand, touching the threads or being seen by the eyes. But when he reached ribbon, he tried to grab it, only for his hand to pass through it. He would have to at least, become tangible to touch the ribbon, and if he did that, his body would touch the threads. He stayed where he was, intangible and invisible, thinking of a way out of this mess.

Timi didn’t step in for the first minute and half. He spent that time asking himself one question–what would Tomi do? The eyes weren’t supposed to see him try to get the ribbon, his body wasn’t supposed to touch the threads and he couldn’t step on the sand either. How then was he supposed to get to the ribbon?

He soon realized he didn’t have to get to the ribbon. He could simply make the ribbon come to him instead. But the eyes were still a problem. They would see him doing that, which meant the ribbon would disappear before it got to him.

What would Tomi do?

“Sixty seconds more!” Sharazan announced.

Korath couldn’t hold his intangible form any longer. It was impossible to breathe while in that form, since the oxygen around just phased through his body. Korath, having stayed over two minutes floating in the air without oxygen was forced to revert to normal form. As the threads touched him, he panicked and lost his invisibility as well before falling to the ground face flat on the white sand. His ribbon promptly vanished.

“And Korath is out!” Sharazan announced. “Timi is still in the game but he has just thirty seconds to go or this match will end in a draw.”

Timi stroked his chin as he thought. What would Tomi do?

The eyes in the wall. If only he could somehow get rid of them, but how?

He imagined Tomi’s voice saying in his head, “It’s a puzzle.”

Eyes, threads, sand…of course.

“Ten seconds to go!”

Timi took out his wand and aimed at the threads.

“Animate!” He sent the threads flying into the eyes on the right wall, blinding them. He aimed at the sand next, “Wind,” and sent the sand blowing into the eyes on the left wall.

With the eyes out of commission, he pointed to the ribbon on the far end of the room.

“Five…four…three…”

“Animate!” Timi shrieked. The ribbon flew at Timi.

“Two…one…”

Timi caught the ribbon just as the count reached zero.

He turned to the crowd and waved the ribbon for all to see.

“Timi wins!” Sharazan announced.

The crowd went wild with cheer.

Again, Jira’s students trooped out and carried Timi off, chanting his name.

Jira’s chest, which had tightened with tension, deflated.

Chidi was right about her not having anything to worry about. She scanned the group of Airad students who had come to cheer Korath to see if Chidi might be one of them.

He was nowhere in sight.

“One-one,” Kalinda said, turning to Jira. “It seems the task for strength will decide who wins, but if you ask me, it’s already decided.”

Jira shrugged off her mother and left her behind in the stands to go join her students in celebrating.

She embraced Timi. “You were brilliant.”

Timi’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you.”

She sent her students off in high spirits, telling them to go celebrate their victory.

She watched them march off excitedly, describing the emotional thrill they felt watching Timi try to solve the puzzle.

With this being their first true victory, Jira didn’t think anything could dampen her spirits, until she was approached by an old witch who’d stayed beside her in the spectator stands designated for school and city officials, as well as notable personalities.

At first Jira assumed the woman was coming to congratulate her on the victory, to commend her for contributing to the positive representation of witches, but things took a different turn.

“You,” the old witch began, her voice carrying a tone of conceit. “You’re a Rakha. You’re no true witch. You have no witches in your lineage, and how long have you yourself been a witch, a few years? And yet you carry yourself like you know what’s best for us. Like you’re the saviour who’s going to solve all our problems.”

The old woman paused, but only to let out a derisive laughter. “You don’t even know what those problems are. You’re a wizard playing witch.” She spat. “Have you given a thought to what you’re doing at all? What happens when your little pupil loses against your wizard of a sister. It will only worsen our problems. You would have raised people’s hopes, only to dash those hopes again. It will only further entrench the belief that we’re lesser. But it won’t affect you, will it? Because at the end of the day, you can always walk right back to your mother’s school, and they’ll welcome you with open hands. You are not one of us, not truly, and you’ll never be.”

Jira froze on the spot until the woman finished spewing her vitriol.

Even as the old woman left the scene and melted into the jubilant crowd, Jira remained still, unable to process the words she’d just heard.

There was a sad, painful truth to woman’s words, a truth Jira could not deny.