he brightened up.
He unwrapped it.
Inside there was a silver chain with a dark-purple diamond-shaped crystal pendant. Vlad touched the crystal and it lit up with soft light, vibrating.
Startled, the boy screamed and dropped the present. Instead of smashing on the floor, the crystal hovered in the air and then slowly went up to Vlad’s face, as if looking into his eyes.
The boy backed up, astounded. The glare around the crystal was growing until it took the shape of a human figure, a figure of a woman. The woman was tall and slender; she was wearing a long embroidered gown flowing down to the floor.
The woman’s body was the same color as the glaring crystal, which was pulsating close to her heart.
She spoke in a pleasant melodious voice:
“How do you do, Mister Viggin?”
At first, Vlad didn’t understand who the woman was talking to, and kept looking at her in astonishment.
“Do you know me?” he asked after a long pause.
“Of course,” the woman replied with a smile.
“May I ask who you are?” the boy asked timidly.
“My name is Freya Altos,” the woman introduced herself. However, she could see by Vlad’s face that her name didn’t ring any bells. Quite the opposite, his face displayed even greater bewilderment. “I am a Master of the Academy of Magical Arts, Malefisterium,” she added.
“The Academy?” Vlad asked, “of Magical Arts? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s time you learn more about it,” Freya came one step closer to Vlad. “The Academy is the place where kids like you live and gain insight into mysteries of the world.”
“Why do they need that?” Vlad asked. He believed (and he was taught) that mysteries must stay uncovered. Otherwise, what kind of mystery it would be, if it was known to many? It would be no mystery any longer; rather, it would be a piece of common knowledge!
“To learn how to change the world for the better.”
“Is it not good enough?”
“No matter how good this world is, there is always room for improvement. You practice to sing better. You read books to learn more.”
“Do we grasp mysteries by doing that?”
“The mystery of a new melody… is the mystery of new knowledge.”
“I see.” Vlad put his mind at ease. “You’ve said there are kinds like me” the boy reminded her. “Where do I come into this?”
“You belong to our world by birth,” Freya said solemnly.
“Your world? What world are you talking about?”
“The magic world.”
Silence hung in the air.
“I don’t think I am allowed,” the boy spoke hesitantly, “to get in touch with the magic world. I was brought up in the Christian faith, which disapproves magic.”
“Why?”
“Magic is a sin!”
“The world is multidimensional,” Freya was not a bit embarrassed. With her answers quick and ready, she seemed to know all the arguments Vlad was going to offer. “It is not split into evil and good, black and white. Looking from above, you will get a full picture.”
“What are you talking about?” Vlad flushed with indignation. “You want to say that the Scripture is a lie?”
“It is a part of the truth,” Freya assured him. “A piece of the jigsaw puzzle.”
“What puzzle?”
“A puzzle called the Universe,” Freya spread her arms, showing its infinity. “Both magic and the Christian faith are just two examples out of many clues to the mystery of Creation. To the knowledge of the meaning of existence and non-existence.
“It means… you are saying that magic is in agreement with religion?”
“More than that,” Freya was happy to see that the boy was interested, “it expands and complements it.”
“But then why does the Scripture argue that magic is evil?”
“The Scripture, which you mention so often, is a book that has been revised and altered many times over the centuries, depending on the education, mindset and needs of those who benefit from it,” Freya explained. “A lot of things that people fail to learn and explain are in no time marked down as evil.”
“But what about magic?” Vlad was confused, but kept questioning.
“Magic is the oldest science that studies the underlying origins of the existence.”
“Even black magic?”
“Depends on what you mean by it.”
“Jinxes, hexes, love spells.”
Freya interrupted him gently.
“It’s a misconception, Vlad. Magic itself is harmless. It doesn’t comprise evil or good. It entirely depends on who practices it and what their intentions are. What you’ve named has a negative effect. But magic goes beyond this list. First of all, it opens up new horizons for understanding the world, both outer and inner.”
Vlad remained silent.
“I can see you still doubt,” the woman gave a wave of her hand to change the setting. “Well… let me give you an example. Imagine that you and your friends are in a thick forest. It is winter, snow is lying all around.”
The wind rose suddenly, and white flakes of snow were dancing in the air.
The boy gave a little shiver at the word “snow.” It brought back unpleasant memories.
“It’s getting dark. You cannot find shelter, and the night is falling fast. There are a few fallen trees around, but you have no matches to make a fire. However, you can use magic instead. But you are a firm supporter of strict dogmas that say: ‘Magic is evil!’ So, all of you will freeze to death before morning. Or you can choose the other option: You start a fire by using magic, and you live through the night. As a result, you will save your life and the lives of your friends with the help of magic.”
Vlad made another feeble attempt to hold the ground.
“But what made you think I belong to you?” the thoughts were whirling around in Vlad’s head. “I am just an ordinary village boy.”
Freya made a gesture with her hand.
Vlad checked himself.
A scene from his past life was brought back to him, the one he had been trying to forget for many years, though with no success.
A forest road, a sledge with firewood, and the three of them: Vlad and Stepa, eight-year-old boys, and bell-ringer Mark as a coachman.
The tired bell-ringer was leading the horse by the bridle, with his head low. Vlad was dragging behind. They had been working hard: Mark chopped firewood, Vlad and Stepa laid it onto the sledge. Once or twice, they had to push the heavy loaded sledge uphill, helping the poor old horse. Stepa seemed to be hit by a giggling fit, he was kidding around, giving Vlad a push or throwing a snowball at him.
“Stepa, stop it!” Vlad asked
“I won’t!” Stepa laughed.
“I’ll get you!”
“Catch me first!”
A deeply rutted narrow road, a stiff slope. And Stepa, running away from Vlad. The feet of the mischievous boy slipped down the ice-covered slope.
Vlad watched his friend