Way of The Wand

What a tiring day Jira had had. She’d woken up in the morning stressing about how to deliver the news of the end of her partnership with Arron Tartian, only to receive the news of Tomi’s and Timi’s withdrawals instead.

She felt as terrible as the day her Mum gave her the ultimatum, the day before Jira packed her bags and left the Rahka Mansion.

After one week of trying different ways to get Jira to abandon the idea of quitting Airad, Kalinda Rakha had finally had enough. She told Jira during dinner that if she dared quit Airad, she would be quitting not just the school, but the family.

“Do it, and you’re no longer a Rakha.”

Kalinda had thought that would scare Jira into behaving. It did the opposite. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Jira’s stomach churned now the way it did then. Without her final champion, she would have to default on the final task and victory would go to Airad. Even a proper defeat at the final match would be a more honourable end than this.

She slow paced around the empty sitting room where she held most of her classes, reliving vivid memories of the times she’d had with Tomi and Timi.

Tomi’s soft, gentle persona had taken her in the first time they met. The little girl spoke in low voices, and often hid her face in shyness from the rest of her mates. She’d grown in confidence since then, and became much fiercer, thanks in large part to the guidance of her older brother, Timi.

Their dynamic reminded Jira of her own relationship with Kano, always there to have her back and push her when she needed pushing.

She needed a heart to heart with someone, and Kano seemed like the obvious choice, but would he really understand?

This was about the fate of witches in Edoh, and while Kano believed in the equality of witchcraft and wizardry, he wasn’t as invested in making it a reality as she was.

Kano might have a heart of gold, but he just wouldn’t get it.

Her only other option was Chidi, who she knew couldn’t afford to sneak out of Airad anymore due to Daila’s threat.

Chidi would get it. He would understand why winning this tournament was vital. Sure, he might be studying wizardry now, but his parents were witches, and he’d grown up with first hand experiences of how bad witches had it in Edoh.

Lila’s spectacular performance in the first task changed a few hearts, Timi’s victory in the second task lit an ember of hope in a lot of people, and a victory against Daila in the final task could seal the deal. It could be the turning point for Edoh witches and usher in a world where they are viewed as equals.

That was what was on the line, and that was what the Afolabis were walking away from— an opportunity for a more just, more equal world. Yet, Jira understood their reservations. No parents would sacrifice their child, not even for a reward that great. Their instinct to protect Tomi came first, from danger, from disgrace, from embarrassment.

But where was she supposed to go from there? What was her next step?

Jira was completely out of options, and the one person who could lend a helping hand was locked away behind Airad’s walls.

Then it occurred to her that if Chidi couldn’t leave Airad to come see her, she could go to Airad to see him.

The only thing holding her back was herself. Sure, she hated that place, and going back there would force up supressed memories, but it would all be worth it getting to see Chidi again.

Jira dressed up in a red ankara, with the iro and buba sewn as one merged fabric, and toped it off with a matching ileke.

The ground was still wet from the previous day’s rain, which made walking difficult. By the time Jira arrived at Airad, her crimson shoes had been caked in brown dirt.

The massive expanse of land, including a mountain range, a forest and even a sea, that made up the school known by all as “Airad”, had no walls or gates to protect it from intruders.

There several entries and exits, and while guards were posted to a few of those entrances, the majority were largely left unguarded.

And yet, only once in its three-hundred-year history had someone— a group of someones actually— been foolish enough to try to attack the school.

Hundreds of the most well-trained wizards descended upon the unfortunate would be attackers, who would have met their end but for the intervention of the then principal, Jira’s great grandfather, Ilken Rakha.

As Jira walked in through one of the school’s many entrances (this one through the forest), unmanned by guards or any sort of obvious security, Airad’s central attraction, the stepped pyramid that hosted the school’s academic and administrative work places, gleamed in the light of the setting sun.

A little east of the pyramid and obscured by an ornamental garden was the Rakha Mansion, tiny in comparison to the behemoth structure opposite it.

Jira wouldn’t be visiting that cursed house today, thank the Gods.

Jira cleared the forest and wandered into a paved street connecting to Airad’s pyramid. Here, she encountered more and more people: Airad staff, grounds keepers, even groups of students, and all were staring at her.

The prodigal daughter had returned.

Jira chose to ignore their stares and whispers. This was nothing compared to the reaction she was sure to receive once she stepped into the building itself.

She cleared the small stairwell to get to the double oak doors blocking the entrance into the pyramid.

Had it been she was still a student, the doors would open for her of their own volition. Jira creaked open the oak wood and stepped in, and just as she’d expected, the traffic of students and teachers pulled to a dead halt.

A predictable silence followed as Jira stalled by the door, staring back into each face looking at her.

Even those who’d been waiting for the magical elevators to open so they could get in, remained frozen in time as the elevator doors closed and left without them.

The pack of students making their way up and down the stairs stood transfixed like a ghost had just walked in.

Jira even recognised a few faces; her former classmates, who like Chidi, would be in their fourth year now.

Yes, she had returned. The once promising student of Airad who abandoned all her sweet mother had given her in search of a childish dream.

Chidi had told her some of the rumours that spread after her sudden disappearance from Airad.

“Don’t you all have places to be?” A voice bolstering with authority resonated from down the hall.

Daila’s unmistakable voice kicked motion back into the audience, unfreezing time.

As people continued on their way, more than a few stole some final glances at Jira.

“You’ve got some nerve—” Daila said, squaring up to Jira, “—showing your face here again. You always have to make a scene.”

“Get out of my face Daila,” Jira replied, “no one’s making a scene but you.”

Daila gave a derisive smile and stepped back. “Turn back now while you still have the chance. Witches are not welcome here, much less you.”

“I’m only here because you forced my hand, sister.”

Daila felt the sting in the word “sister.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jira continued. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in this school anymore, but then you blackmailed Chidi into not coming to see me anymore. Well, now I’ve come to see him.”

Daila rolled her eyes. “You’ve come to see your boyfriend, how cute? Unfortunately for you, we don’t allow conjugal visits here at Airad.”

Jira blinked back the heat rising in her veins. “Even the king’s prisoners get visitors. I know this school is repressive but is it really worse than a prison?”

Daila held back. Anyone else and she would have lashed out. “You come to my school and insult us? You’re asking for it. Looks like the beating I gave you the other day wasn’t enough.”

“Jira!”

Kalinda’s high pitched voice saved Daila from getting a biting reply from Jira.

“What a surprise?” She said as she climbed down the stairs. “When I heard you were here, I thought surely, it had to be a lie.”

Kalinda gestured to her daughters. “I like it that you two are catching up.”

Both daughters rolled their eyes, and Daila, unable to keep it together any longer, excused herself and disappeared into one of the elevators.

Kalinda let her leave before holding out her arms for a hug with Jira.

Jira gave her mother the cold shoulder, disappointing Kalinda.

“What have I done now?” It was a rhetorical question, and Jira recognised it as such.

“You know,” Kalinda said, her heavy green coat moving as she gesticulated, “I’m really glad you’re here. I hope you’ve come to say the three words I’ve been dying to hear from you in years.”

“What’s that? ‘Mum I’m broke?’”

Kalinda frowned. “Actually it’s ‘I love you’, but ‘I’m broke’ would be a good start too.”

“I don’t need your money. I don’t need anything from you.”

“If you’re here,” Kalinda pointed out, “then clearly you need something.”

“Chidi. I want to see him,” Jira demanded.

“Jira,” her mother responded in a sweet, motherly tone, “you know very well we have specific dates when visits are allowed. We can’t just allow visitors walk into our school arbitrarily whenever they want. We have rules here.” She paused, “Nevertheless, I’ll bend the rules just this one time, because Jira, I love you.”

Kalinda flashed a comforting smile. “See how easy it was for me to say that?”

“Thanks Kalinda, but those aren’t the words I want to hear from you.”