Way of The Wand

They talked about everything and nothing at all, but the small talk ended when the carriage pulled up in front of the Tartian mansion of stone, glass and mortar.

The impressive edifice sat at the edge of a beach, overlooking the Dotun Sea.

Jira pushed open the door to the carriage and jumped down, taking in the hedges and flowers than lined the compound.

This was the only building in the area, everything else was trees and shrubs for several kilometres.

“You said we were going for a ride; you didn’t say you were bringing me to your house.”

Arron stepped out of the carriage and came up beside Jira. “We did go for a ride…to my house.”

He led Jira in, taking her green coat and handing it to an attendant.

Jira locked her eyes in on the trail of chandeliers hanging down the roof.

The high windows, wall portraits, and potted plants lining the passage way made her feel like she was back home at the Rakha mansion.

Had she woken up here after a black-out, she would think she was in a wizard’s home.

Arron noticed her staring and guessed her thoughts. “My father bought this house from a wizard.”

Jira nodded. Now it all made sense.

“Here, have a seat,” Arron said.

Jira took the seat he offered, setting herself in the raffia woven armchair, just like those at the Moongirl.

“Are you thirsty? Need something to drink?” Arron inquired.

“I’m good. I would just like for us to talk about why I’m here.”

Jira did not want any more diversions. It was enough that she’d followed him from one end of the city to the other. She wanted to know how he could help her win the tournament, and that was it.

“Alright then,” Arron said, taking off his black jacket and falling to the leather sofa opposite Jira.

“I assume you have proposals on how to prepare your pupil for the final task?”

“Tomi.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tomi,” Jira repeated, “that’s her name.”

Jira crossed her legs on her seat and leaned to one side. “And yes, I do have a plan. I was going to get her to spar against a wizard, for practise. But, unfortunately I can’t seem to reach the one I have in mind anymore.”

Arron nodded, signifying he was paying attention. “I can help with that. If you need to hire a wizard for the training, it’s no problem.”

“What else do you think she’ll need?” He asked.

“For now, that’s all I can think of.”

Arron scratched the scruff of hair under his chin. “Do you think we need to put her on a diet? Work out plan maybe? Anything to make her stronger?”

Jira almost laughed and quickly pinched herself. Laughing at his suggestions would be rude. “I don’t think any of that is necessary. What she needs I believe, is practise. If she’s going to fight a wizard, she’s going to need to learn how to fight like one.”

Arron got up from the sofa and beckoned on Jira to follow him. “You should bring her here to practise, you know, away from the daunting eyes of your remaining students. Come, I’ll show you the practise arena.”

Jira followed him through a maze of hallways and winding stairwells, before arriving at an open courtyard designed to look like a battle ground.

“Spacious,” Arron said, gesturing to the courtyard. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know if I want to separate Tomi from her friends. She could use the emotional support.”

“Bring them all then,” Arron suggested. “A change in scenery might be good for them. At least, for the next few weeks.”

“Can I think over it?”

“Yes,” Arron replied, “but think fast. We don’t have much time.”

Jira left after that to go mull over Arron’s proposition at home, only to arrive at her porch to discover Kano had been waiting at her door for hours.

She let him in and related to him everything that happened with Arron.

“Damn!” Kano exclaimed, looking around at Jira’s changed house.

A new coat of brown paint covered the walls; the cobwebs were gone and the chipped doors replaced.

A black rug with red ornamentation spread from one end of the living room to the other, passing under a new glass and wood centre table bearing a clay flower-vase.

“A witch paid for all this?” Kano asked, after Jira related the story to him for the third time.

“Yes,” an exasperated Jira replied. “There are rich witches, you know? The problem is there are still too many poor witches, and that is by design.”

Kano trailed his hand over the surface of the new leather sofa he was sitting on, admiring the smooth texture.

“Incredible. I must get me a sofa like this.”

Jira slammed the sofa pillow into Kano’s face. “That’s not what I want you to say.”

Kano protected his head with hands. “Okay, okay. About his offer. Couldn’t hurt to at least try it out.”

She’d been thinking the same thing, leaning towards that very same decision and just needed someone to give her the final push.

Kano reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. “I have something for you.”

He held out Chidi’s singing letter and Jira collected it with the kind of care reserved for carrying eggs.

As Jira looked over the letter with awe and curiosity, Kano told her, “Daila threatened Chidi and told him to stop contacting you. He wanted me to give that to you.”

Jira thanked her brother and tucked the parcel away into her dress.

“Well then,” Kano said, “my work here is done.”

He kissed his sister on the forehead. “I’ll come by some other time.”

Jira locked the door after him and tore open the letter in the privacy of her home.

A soft note of music played as she lifted the cover, and Chidi’s unmistakable voice sang out the words in the letter.

She smiled at the notes, giggling at how corny the contraption was. Yet, she loved it nonetheless.

It warmed her heart to know Chidi hadn’t stood her up, and angered her to find out, once again, the person at the root of her problems, was Daila.

If she had any reservations about saying yes to Arron’s deal before, it was gone now. All options were on the table. If any opportunities came her way to could aid her in training Tomi to defeat Daila, she would explore it.