Wielders of Magic, Book 1: A Spell Binding Tale
Brother Mine

"Stop!" Drusilla cried, breathing heavily. "Can't . . . go on, let me off!"

Jack pulled his mighty steed to a halt and watched as the Red Witch flopped off onto the snowy ground.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, getting off and tying the beast to a tree.

"Tired, so tired." She replied, her voice a soft whisper.

"Ok, well you are going to have to get up so I can clear the ground." He grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Move the horse and this will get done quickly."

Drusilla walked over to it and pulled it into a set of trees, watching in fascination as Jack preformed his magic.

He breathed in steadily, letting the air out gradually as his eyes opened halfway to observe the area around him. He got very low to the ground, in a crouch position, and started to say a few words of magic. "Asfinoses, cradia nethina acoul . . ."

The powdery snow around him started to swirl up in a whirlwind, gathering around him in a funnel. His arms were in to his chest at that time, his head tilted back and letting the spell take hold so his soul could take over. Magic was not an intellectual thing, it was an emotional power, and one had to feel the right emotions at the right time to make things work.

His head flung down and his hands out, fists seeming to take hold of an invisible rope as the snow dispersed into the trees around them. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath, before looking up at his companion, his eyes fading from a icy blue to their normal chocolate brown.

That was the thing with warlocks and witches. Their eyes always seemed to change a different color for each spell.

"Alright, lets’ get out the blankets and start a fire. I'll go get the wood; you set things up, alright?" Their gazes met for a moment.

"Oh, yes. You need to teach me that spell sometime." She smiled a little and started to unbuckle the blankets from the horses’ saddle.

Jackson walked along a rabbit trail with his eyes open, looking for loose sticks and branches to use in a fire. He would use his magic to start it of course, but having a magical flame that did not need anything to devour was a difficult spell to perform, and you needed certain ingredients . . . it is too complicated to explain. Only a high level magic user can do such a thing, and that took a century of study to perform.

"Why, oh why did you have to leave me so soon master?" He asked softly, his voice echoing more than he thought it would. "I still have so much to learn, so much to study!"

It was true. Jackson was still a student himself, and that was probably the reason teaching Drusilla was so awkward. He had tried to teach others, but frankly, he was terrible at it. He hadn't had proper training either, which made him have to improvise a lot of things in the spells, experiment a lot on his own. He had a certain way of learning things, that fithis criteria, and others wouldn't understand.

"Hmm." He mumbled as he looked around the wood, wondering why it was so familiar. There was the call of a Nightjay in the distance, a black bird that sung almost with the same grace and beauty as a woman. Finally, he shook his head, the memory not coming into his head after a good ten minutes.

Whatever triggered that little bit of déjà vu was long since forgotten . . .

Early in the morning, Rey Spellbinder sat up in his bed and stared at the blue drapery around it. Same old, same old.He thought as his feet slid off the edge, landing on the hard, cold wooden floor that always sent the familiar tinge of awareness he got every morning. The floor is cold, the room is dark, the bed is warm . . . but not warm enough. It is never warm enough.

Rey was a cold person, always on the verge of breaking down into depression or throwing a vase across the room. He had once married, but his wife died of a great illness, and his stillborn son never saw the light of day. He didn't really care anymore; he was numb enough to ignore it.

He got all the way up and walked slowly over to his closet, picking out his same black clothing as he did every day. A black overcoat with a blue rose (one created with magic) in the pocket, and a red vest, embroidered with dragons. He liked the clothing yes, it was his favorite, but never would it fill the hole that lay gaping in his chest.

Nothing would.

He left his room, dipping his head a little in greeting to one of his servants. The small girl smiled brightly, who made the slightest crack of a grin curl up a corner of his mouth, but it disappeared too quickly for anyone to notice.

Same old, same old. Oh hi Gregson . . . Silantra . . . Fred - never liked Fred - Ah! Susan!He smiled than, dipping a little lower at the maid wearing a yellow dress that went down to her ankles. She had bright blue eyes and dark brown hair, reminding him of his late wife. He had no real feelings for her, but seeing her every now and then gave him a little zing that reminded him of the days before.

Before . . .

Rey sat down at his long dining table and looked out one of the tall windows, seeing the trees blowing slightly in the winter wind. He sighed again. His breakfast was served for him, as usual, and Susan would be performing her normal duties, the others would be doing the same.

Same old, same old.

He looked down at the roasted quail on top of a lettuce blanket and suddenly became angry. His hand flew down at it and hit it off the table, watching as it rolled over the floor and hit the wall.

"Master Spellbinder, is there something the matter with your food?" His butler asked, a bald man with a few gray hairs around the back of his head.

"Yes! Everything is wrong!" Rey got up and looked out the windows again, his hands clenched at his sides. "I will be back later Heliman, and clean up that mess." He suddenly shape-shifted into a Nightjay and flew up and out of a small, open sky light.

He flew a good distance into the forest before landing on the ground, swiftly turning into himself again. He needed to get away from that stifling castle of his! Get away from that prison he called his home! He had built it to protect himself, and it did, only it was doing him a little more harm than good.

He needed something to do. He wanted to feel alive again!

In the distance, he heard a wolf howl, very far away, but with his ears, he could hear it loud and clear.

Maybe I could be one of them for a while, see how exciting it is . . .

He quickly said a few words and shifted into the form of a slender black wolf with bright blue eyes. He sat there for a moment getting the feel of the new creature, before he sucked a huge gulp of air into his powerful lungs and let out a savage howl to the sky.

Every creature in the woods knew he was there now.

His strong, hulking hind legs pushed off the ground, launching him over a log and back onto the snowy path. He galloped faster than three horses put together, running over the snow with both agility and grace. He felt alive for a split second, than it was gone, like his smiles.

He stopped and looked around at the snow. It all seemed dull, the same, nothing was right. He needed to see something he never had before. He needed . . .

"Jack look!"

His ears picked up the sound of a whisper. Whipping his head around he saw in the distance two figures, one a female woman with two large white wings and strawberry hair, and the other-

Did she say Jack? Jackson?

Rey transformed into his Nightjay form and flew towards them, hearing the gasp from the woman as he took to the sky. He slowly landed on a branch just above their heads, his eyes set on his brother, Jackson Spellbinder.

"What is it?" The woman asked; her eyes wide and amazed. "It was a wolf, than it just turned into a bird, right before my eyes. It doesn't look afraid . . ."

Rey tilted his head, wondering if Jackson would remember him. It had been centuries since they had even said a curt hello to one another, or sent a letter, or any form of communication. Jackson had stopped sending letters a while ago, which made him very upset.

And here he was, sitting right in front of him, waiting for a voice of recognition. He looked so different, his hair was a silvery gray instead of the dark black that used to match his, and his chocolate brown eyes seemed a little duller, more experienced. He was still his younger brother though, and he would recognize him even if his face had been destroyed. It was a sense they had, that all warlocks had with their siblings. They knew when they were around, they always knew . . .

Now I have found you, brother mine.

"Wait a moment . . ." Jackson's eyes narrowed, focusing on the bird. He got down off of his horse and walked towards it, putting his arm out to it. "Come here, I won't hurt you pretty bird."

Rey fluffed his feathers and extended his head, tilting it to the side a little. He squawked right in his brothers’ face than took to the sky, swooping around as if he had found Jackson's words amusing.

"Rey! What are you doing in these woods!?"

Ah, after all this time, he still remembers his brother.He smiled and circled down to the ground, hitting it with a puff of black smoke that soon took the shape of a man. He bowed a little, a sad smile cracking over his lips. "Good to see you Jackson. I missed . . . I have not heard from you in a while."

Jackson ran forward and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, which was only to his tall brothers’ waist. "Good to see you too Rey! I missed you as well!"

"Jack, who is this?" The winged woman got down off the horse as well and slowly approached them, her eyes still large and curious.

"Oh! Rey, this is Drusilla, and Drusilla, this is Rey, my brother." He replied.

"Pleased to meet you." She did a slight curtsey.

"Who is she brother? Your wife?" Rey tilted his head, looking her over.

"No! Just a friend." He blushed and darted a glance over towards her. "Do you live in here?"

"Yes, in my mansion."

Oh yes . . .Jackson thought. He suddenly had a wave of memories flow through his mind. He remembered why he never came back, why he never sent letters, why he had cut his brother off from his life.

Rey was using dark magic.

"Care to come and visit for a bit?" The warlocks’ crystal blue eyes stared into his, waiting patiently for an answer.

"Oh, well . . ." He looked over at Drusilla, who seemed a bit hungry and cold. The night before had been a cold one, and they hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. It would be best for her if they did, but they wouldn't stay, defiantly not. "Yes, I think we are in need of some warm beds and food."

"Yes, I have plenty of that. Too much actually." Rey's voice faded out into a mumble. "Come, take my hands and I will bring us there."

Drusilla slipped her hand into his, noting how cold and feeling less it was, how utterly dead it felt. It was as if he had been dead for over a century, and his blood had run cold.

Jackson slowly took the hand of his brother, wondering if he was going to use his new favorite magic for this little spell. He hoped he wouldn't, since such things were evil and not spoken of. Dark warlocks and witches were the reason that they were feared, and hearing that his brother was a part of that made him sick.

There was a weird feeling in the pit of their stomachs as Rey transported them through the air into his mansion, all landing just inside the doorway. "I will not bother with the tour, seeing is how you stayed here before. Even though it was so long ago, I am sure you will remember some things, after all, you remembered me." He took in a breath, his face the exact same expression as when he first appeared to them as a man. "Feel free to use anything in this castle; it is at your disposal." He snapped his fingers and disappeared in a swirl of black smoke.

"Well, interesting fellow isn't he?" Drusilla chuckled, laying a hand on one of the walls. "This is weird but . . . the walls feel alive." She looked over at Jack for an explanation.

"Don't . . . don't touch anything." He replied, taking her hand away from the wall.

"Why? What’s wrong?"

"It’s just . . . Rey doesn't use the same magic as us. He . . . he's a dark mage." Jackson bit his bottom lip, wondering how she would react.

"Oh." She clasped her hands together and her shoulders scrunched up a little bit. "Right, not touching anything. Anything."

"He wouldn't hurt us; he's my brother, but still. Be careful." Jackson smiled a little and walked up the corridor, passing a person to his left as Drusilla walked behind him. The servant stared at them for a moment before quickly walking down a side hall.

"That was strange." Drusilla whispered.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I don't know."

The warlock rolled his eyes and began to look around. The corridor had high ceilings with windows that almost reached as tall, with elegant paintings of either his brother, or an unknown woman with gentle brown locks. Who is she?He wondered, stopping to stare at one where she was posed with a violin in her hands.

"Who's she?" The Red Witch asked, looking from left to right with paranoia.

"Stop skulking about behind me like Rey is going to pounce upon you and eat you!" Jackson shouted, prying her hand off of his arm. "He is my brother; I do not think he would do that to us."

"Alright . . . but if he does-"

"Drusilla!"

"Alright, fine!"

Rey sat in the circular, stone floored room with his head down, sitting in a wooden chair with red cushions. There was only one seat in the middle of the room, and that was for the purpose of him. No one else was allowed in here, not another living soul.

But he said nothing about the dead.

His voice rang around the room smoothly and darkly as he began to chant his strange magic, summoning from the depths of the Abyss the black magic that most shunned and forbade. He would of too if his wife had not died, and this was the only way he could ever see her again . . .

Drusilla woke up by some unknown voice, calling to her. She got out of bed and walked down the corridor, the darkness not bothering her in the slightest.

Yes, this castle was eerie, but this voice was soothing, and a little sad. She wanted to find out where it was coming from, and the only way to do that was to find it.

Her feet soon took her down a spiral staircase that lead to a deep and dark, unknown room. She kept on walking, the voice getting a little louder, more urgent this time. She found a small door, partway open, and a mans’ voice chanting on the inside . . .

It was Rey, sitting in the middle of the room upon a wooden chair, his head bent low and his dark hair hung over his strange, angular face.

"Come forth my late and heavy wife, my eyes have since missed your face. You have escaped this live and warm life, and have already finished your race." He stood up than, a deep, water-like magic flowing from his hands and eyes, as if he was crying as he chanted. "But I call to you now to see you again, for even I had once loved you here, and love you I still do even now, and see you never again I fear."

A large door started to open out of the wall, and darkness flowed from it, whispering to him, overpowering the black water that flowed from his form. He had to keep control; he couldn't let it take him as it had once before. That was when he almost lost his soul.

Oh but he had to see her! Even with the risk!

"Rey darling?" Came her soothing voice over the whispers. "Are you here?"

"I am here my love!" He groaned, loathing and longing for her voice at the same time. "I missed you!"

"PLEASE HELP ME!" She screamed, her voice a ragged sob, as she had been crying for ages. Fear stuck his heart and he let his hands drop, the doors to the Abyss shutting once again and the whispers receding.

His voice came in a whisper, echoing ominously though out the room. "I'm sorry, my love."

"Oh, name of the gods!" Drusilla's voice hissed through the air, horror spread over her face.

He whipped around, his eyes landing on hers. They were not their normal crystal blue this time, but a deep, blood red with diamond pupils, like that of a cats or dragons. He bolted towards her, a savage roar scaring two years off of her life as she quickly closed the door, hoping it would give her a head start.

Drusilla flew up the spiral staircase with her wings flapping quickly behind her, trying to give her extra bursts of speed as the dark warlock ran after.

"This will be the last time you spy on me!" He growled behind her, making her cry out in a whimper of fear. She finally made it to the top and her wings gave her one, powerful boost through the corridor, shooting her far down it before he could grab at her ankle. Unfortunately, he did catch one of her white slippers, and it was left in his hand as she rounded a corner, making it back to her room as quickly as possible.

She was about to enter her room when she remembered Jackson was right across from her. She burst through his door and flew into his bed, crawling over the top of him and huddling in the corner of the curtained room with her wings wrapped over her head.

"What, what!?" He shouted, sitting up sleepily. ". . . Drusilla?" he asked with a yawn right after.

"Yes!"

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Hiding!"

"From what?" He tilted his head in annoyance.

"Your brother!"

"I told you before; he is not going to hurt you!"

"NO!" She burst out of her ball of feathers and grabbed his arm, their eyes meeting, locking, together. "I saw him down in a dark room, performing dark magic and talking to a woman who cried out to him for help! He called her 'my love' and she was inside a magical room with such pitch black darkness, my eyes could not bear to look at it! He opened that door Jack, he opened it and talked to someone through it! I accidentally said something and he turned around and looked at me with red, dragon eyes!

"He ran after me, saying that was the last time I would spy on him! Jack I am so scared, I think he is going to kill me, or torture me, or do something that is so terrible I can't even imagine-" She started to cry, her words becoming inaudible.

"Hey, it’s alright!" He wrapped her in a hug, feeling her shake in fear under him like a frightened fawn. "It’s ok, you stay in here and I will make sure he doesn't do anything to hurt you. All right? He won't hurt me, so if you with me, he won't do anything to you."

"Are you sure?" She looked up at him with her large, strawberry colored eyes.

"Yes. Now go to sleep. I'll keep watch." He stroked her red hair and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

Drusilla gave a shaky sigh in relief and laid down beside him as he sat up, coming up from beneath the covers and sitting cross legged beside her. She reached up and grasped his hand, her wings falling over her like a blanket. "Thanks’ Jack."

"No problem. Now go to sleep." He held her hand and looked at the curtains around them, just waiting for one to open. It was true, they could not stay here. Already Drusilla was in danger, and he couldn't have that with his own brother. It was not safe with him around, and they had to leave.

Tomorrow.

Eventually, Jackson did slump back against the back board of the bed and fell asleep, unable to fight the urge. What they didn't see what the dark figure looming in the corner, with red, dragon eyes that shone out in the darkness like a cat watching a mouse. No one knew of his secret, NO ONE, and if she ever spoke a word, he would kill her. Of course, she had told his brother, but that was a different story. He was family, he didn't really care about that, but it was the fact he had opened a door to the Abyss, opened a door to evil beyond belief.

And he couldn't shut it. Not permanently anyway.

He sat there and watched them until the morning light, which was when he returned to his room without a trace left behind. No one would ever know how he watched his brother and the winged woman, ready to strike at any moment. No one . . .

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