Validus Magus

Prologue1

He rocked, back and forth, back and forth - hugging his legs as if a security blanket or consoling mother’s arms - back and forth, back and forth. He shook fervently, in disbelief of the recent events.  The zephyr that passed brought his spine to tremble; the slightest breeze seemed caustic to his naked body.  He coughed violently; frightened by the sight of the blood he had spit up, his zealous rocking waned, then he coughed again, inviting more blood.  2

He screamed, searching for relief in his tension, but his raspy voice hurt his throat, abruptly ending his vociferous yelling.  He remained, wallowing wistfully in the deep corner of his room. Never had he ever expected the vivacious art of witchcraft to be so, vitriolic.3

Remy never had any problems with anything or anyone.  He considered himself a sort of magic virtuoso.  He never quite fully understood himself, and never had he grasped the basic concept of his whimsical powers.  It appeared a wand wasn’t necessary to make great things happen.4

In one instance, Remy had been playing basketball with his friends at their local park, Floral Grounds.  He was rather lanky, and athleticism was to Remy, as oil was to water.  One of the kids passed the ball his way, and he flinched when he saw the ball.  Ashamed by the overbearing jeering, he gawkily sauntered his way after the ball.  The banal events that followed had an interesting twist.  The clumsy boy followed the ball into the street, and froze at the sight of the speeding car.  The twist was, this boy practically willed the car away, and it swerved, crashing into the nearby stoop.  The boy grabbed the ball, gazing blankly at the car, watching the confused driver fumble his way onto the street, scratching his head, studying the car for answers to his conundrum.  His distracted friends were too oblivious and eager to play the game to give more than a moment’s glance to the accident.  This undisciplined show of power, was at a mere age of five.5