Witch and Wizard
The wind whispered old secrets as it howled through the trees. It’s a terrible wail. Willowbrook, a tiny hamlet, remained silent beneath the full moon, throwing lengthy shadows on the cobblestone streets.
A cottage at the outskirts of the town stood where the line of forest met faded shadows. Twelve-year-old lived in this cottage and felt, down deep in her bones, that she was unique.
Ella had always felt as though her environment was inappropriate. She could hear things others could not the whispering in the breeze, the rustling of leaves seeming to be communicating to her. But until the day she came upon the old oak tree in the forest, she did not know how unique her planet was.
That was a regular day, or at least it ought to have been. The clouds covered the heavens, and Ella discovered she was straying farther than normal into the forest. The forest, an ancient, enigmatic area where the trees murmured as though they possessed secrets older than the planet itself, had always fascinated her.
But something changed that day. Like the ground itself holding its breath, the air was dense with a tangible intensity.
Before, Ella had never seen the door. At the base of the giant oak stood a secret wooden door broken and covered with weird symbols. Driven by an inexplicable urge, Ella stretched out to touch the tree, as though it had borne itself.
Her chest seemed to reverberate as the minute her fingers stroked, the door cracked open. She seemed to have been waiting for the gloom just beyond the door.
Inside, the library was as ancient as the tree itself, with shelves bursting with aged, dusty books, many of which were rotting. One book, though, pulled her in; the title, “The Chronicles of Magic,” in tarnished gold letters seemed almost to spark with an inner light. A shred of parchment dropped between the pages when Ella took it off the shelf.
She unfolded the note and read the lovely script words: “Ella, my darling, if you are reading this, then the time has come.” Unlike most youngsters, you are not You inherit a legacy much older than you could conceive. Though it has been lost for millennia, the strong and lethal Silver Wand is yours to locate. Be warned; others might search for it with sinister intent. All will be lost if you find the wand after they have done.
She found the words whirled in her thoughts like a storm. She knew it was accurate even though she could not grasp it. She had always sensed something, an energy, a power that she could not quite articulate. She was unique; today she understood why.
A name caught Ella’s attention as she dug more into the book: Malakar, a sorcerer who had once used the Silver Wand’s ability to govern the magical worlds. But he had disappeared decades ago, carrying the wand with him.
According to the note, Malakar had somehow returned, and his search for the wand had started fresh; he was not gone.
Ella traveled this road not by herself. A strong and forceful knock arrived at her door as evening fell. Opening it, she discovered a young man there, his face shrouded under a black robe. But his presence was disturbing; his eyes shone with knowledge.
The guy said, “I’m Gavin,” his voice low and soft. I came to assist you.
Though first she didn’t trust him, something about Gavin felt familiar. He said he was a wizard, a member of a covert group tasked with safeguarding the magical relics of the planet. After months of hunting for the Silver Wand, he had located her, the final heir to its power.
They would hunt the wand together before Malakar could locate it first. But the air grew heavier as Gavin drove Ella more into the forest.
The shadows seemed to be watching them, crawling groundward like living entities. Every stride seemed to bring them toward something sinister.
Their path brought them across old ruins absorbed by time, into forgotten cavernues, and across the forest. Teaching Ella little spells and charms to guard her from the hazards hiding in the shadows, Gavin guided her.
But Ella sensed something sinister gathering about them. She would hear the same whispering voice calling her name every night while they camped under the stars, getting louder and more urgent.
Gavin informed her of Malakar’s past of how the sorcerer had previously been a member of the wizarding order, but his thirst for power had driven him to lunacy one evening as the two rested before a roaring fire. Malakar had sought to harness the Silver Wand’s magic to rule the domains of the living and the dead; it was rumored that it could magnify a wizard’s ability outside of imagination.
“He’s looking for you, Ella,” Gavin whispered, his voice tight. “He is drawn to his proper owner, as is the wand.”
Ella shuddered. “Why me??”
“Your grandmother was the last to wield it,” Gavin continued, fixed on the fire. She hid the wand from Malakar; now it is yours to guard.
His words hung in the air, and Ella’s discomfort mounted. She couldn’t pinpoint something about Gavin that didn’t fit him. She brushed the idea aside and concentrated on their task.
They arrived at a prehistoric ruin tucked far into the forest, where the ground itself appeared to throb with energy. It was here, under the protection of ancient spells and traps, they thought the Silver Wand was buried. A sharp cold enveloped the area as they arrived at the ruin, and the ground shook underfoot.
Then a voice suddenly reverberated across the night.
Hissed: “You’re too late, child.” “My wand is yours.”
Rising from the shadows, Malakar had evil strength shining in his eyes. His hands buzzed with black magic; he was tall and wore ragged robes. He grinned, displaying pointed teeth.
Ella’s heart raced. “Gavin, what then do we do?”
Gavin stepped forward, his expression icy. “We conflict.”
But a startling discovery shifted the tide just as the fight started.
Once more, the ground shook, and Ella developed an unusual feeling inside her. She had never known she held a power that started to flow through her body. She stretched out to grab the Silver Wand that showed up floating before her. Malakar was knocked to the ground as the moment her fingers closed around it sent an explosive rush from the wand.
Gavin stopped, horror widening his gaze. “No… it cannot be…,”
Ella stared at him, her voice cool and full of comprehension. “You were never here to help me, Gavin?”
His features twisted in a frown. “I came here to stop Ella. The wand was never supposed to be yours.
Ella knew with a flash of insight. Gavin was Malakar’s pupil sent to confuse her and get her near the wand; he was not a wizard dispatched to assist her. He had fed her lies about their search, therefore controlling her all along.
Her hand throbbed with Silver Wand energy, its power now totally awakened. Ella cried and let the magic of the wand fly a strong wave of light towards Gavin. His body twisted as the magic surrounded him, and with a last scream, he disappeared into the darkness, his deceit melted.
Ella stood among the wreckage, the wand still shining in her fingers. The Silver Wand felt both light and weighty, both of which were freeing. Malakar had been destroyed by the treachery of his pupil. Now, with the wand, she gave the ability to permanently shield the planet from evil powers.
But the once-forgotten murmurs of the wind started to fade as she gazed about the wrecked temple. Now still, the woodland appeared to be watching her. Ella realized her life was permanently altered even though the trip was over. She owned the Silver Wand, and the weight of its spell was only just beginning.
For now, the blackness was gone.
However, Ella was ready.
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Syeda Izma Mashkoor is a passionate storyteller and rising literary talent. She is a gifted writer with an exceptional flair for storytelling. With a strong academic background in English and a natural creative spark, she has mastered the art of writing compelling stories that captivate readers worldwide. Specializing in horror, fables, and fantasy, Izma brings her stories to life with vivid imagination and deep social insight.
Beyond writing, she explores painting, crafting, and sketching, drawing inspiration from history and cinema. Her storytelling stands out for its ability to blend contemporary societal themes with engaging plots, making her work both thought-provoking and entertaining. Guided by her motto, “Talent without hard work is nothing,” Izma continues to push creative boundaries, leaving a lasting impact on the literary world.