Wizard of Jatte, Rowan Erlking [latest novels to read .TXT] 📗

like that. Don’t you?”

He got no response. Theissen merely glanced at him, stirring up a wind on one side to balance the tipping feeling he was getting as he tried to walk back the other way.

“We told you about how we became birdmen, right?” Theobold asked Theissen.

Theissen nodded with an amused smirk. “You did. Though I think the reason for becoming birds is rather foolish. You could have just had the wizard call for the fruit to fall from the tree instead of becoming demons, you know.”

Theobold nodded. “Yes. Yes. But the fruit would have been squashed.”

“There are ways around that,” Theissen replied, knowing exactly how much wind and force it took to pluck a fruit off of a high tree and catch it when it fell.

Laughing some, Theobold nodded again. “So says the thief.”

Theissen immediately whipped around in a sudden glare. “Don’t call me that!”

For a moment both men looked eye to eye in a frozen state. Theobold then ducked his head apologetically. “I’m sorry. I was just teasing.”

His expression softening, Theissen just shook his head. “Just don’t tease like that. A boy in my village use to call me that.”

Theobold lowered his gaze more.

“The same boy that picked on my cousin,” Theissen added.

The birdman peeked up. Theissen looked sorry also, watching him with that old exhausted look. The color was already leaving Theissen’s face, his lips even going gray.

“Look. I’m sorry. I just…I just don’t get why you people chose this life,” Theissen said glancing around at the trees and flets. “It’s just so boring.”

Theobold smirked, flapping so that he was flying by Theissen’s side as Theissen walked back over to the nursery. “You are not fond of leisurely life?”

Theissen gave him a dry look, using another wind to keep him steady and to balance out the wind Theobold’s wings made.

Laughing, Theobold tossed back his head. “Yes. Yes. You call it indolent. But really, we wanted this life.”

“Where you eat the same kind of fruit all day, lounge around (though I do see the appeal of flying). But you have no roast beef, no onions, no potatoes, no cabbage, no milk, no cream, no cheese, no—”

“You sound like you miss your dinners more than anything else,” Theobold said with a snicker. He landed on the ledge, joining Theissen back into the mothers’ area.

“I miss swimming,” Theissen said with a small hop. “I miss working.” He chuckled with a nod to his surroundings. “Actually, I really miss working. Feeling the strength of my hands as I carve the top of a bedstead or a rocking chair. Inlaying stone into a table, or carving those toys for the kids.” Theissen turned with a nostalgic grin. “I miss that wonderful feeling of seeing something go from scratch, working and planing the wood and sanding it with my own hands, the sweat even running down my neck in summer as I’m in the shop edging the corners of a cabinet. Putting things together and staining them. Varnishing. And then, looking at the delighted faces of my customers, knowing I’ve made the world a more beautiful place, even if it is only one piece of furniture at a time.”

Theobold stared, almost as entranced as he was when he had first seen Theissen’s magic.

“What?” Theissen saw the look out of the corner of his eye.

Stepping closer, Theobold said, “Would you teach me? It sounds fascinating.”

An honestly pleased smile broke onto Theissen’s face. “Teach you? Are you serious?”

“I don’t look capable?” Theobold glanced at his own hands.

Laughing, Theissen reached out and patted his shoulder. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just, well, no one here seems to care about that sort of thing, unless it included making those clothes you wear. Your people don’t seem that interested in craftsmanship.”

With a frank nod, Theobold sheepishly smiled, admittedly even. “I’m afraid you are right. But I am curious now. I want to learn what makes you so passionate about what my people see as nothing more than a hot sweaty inconvenience.”

“Work?” Theissen said with raised eyebrows.

Theobold nodded, his smile frank.

Chuckling, Theissen gestured upward. “Take me to my things. I’ll show you what makes a man like me feel respectable.”

 

Mensin found Theissen and Theobold crouched over one stool. Wood shavings and sawdust were strewn everywhere around them. Both men were laughing, talking like old pals with an ancient secret they intended to keep among themselves yet mock the others with. Flying in with Mensin came the doctor along with two of the younger elders of the bird people. They landed gently enough to not shake the floor, but loud enough that both Theissen and Theobold turned when they arrived to see who had come. Theobold flushed, practically hiding his hands. Theissen didn’t bother. In his hand was his carving tool. And in the other was something like a whistle.

“What are you doing?” the doctor asked, striding forward.

“Teaching. What are you here for?” Theissen gazed from the doctor to the other elders.

Giving his usual annoyed look, the doctor peered at Theobold but said to Theissen, “I came to give you an examination to see if you are fit to be moving about like this.”

“My muscles are going to shrink if I don’t move around like this,” Theissen replied with bite, clenching his carving tool tighter in his fist.

But the doctor set his hand on Theissen’s forehead. Then he felt Theissen’s pulse. “Your heart rate is still too high, and you feel flushed.”

“I’ve been in the sun. Of course I’m flushed,” Theissen said, watching the white birdman walk around him. His amazement had long gone away at the birdman’s elegance. He was mostly annoyed with how the doctor just never seemed to think him well enough for anything more active than drinking medicine.

“Have you been feeling light headed?” the doctor asked.

Theissen had, but he wasn’t about to say so. He could still feel an imbalance in his body, though he could not pin down why or how. Non-deadly, his body still had a slight sick stink to it.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Frowning, the doctor looked to the elders. “I still think he ought to rest. This idea of giving him work is a ridiculous one.”

“Giving me work?” Theissen’s eyes brightened at once. Mensin smiled secretly at Theobold, though Theobold frowned some. “Are you serious?”

The elders nodded and grinned at Mensin. “Yes. We fear that a wizard like you is bored with our simple life. Mensin here mentioned that he would like to see an improvement in our rain shelters. Since you are a professed carpenter, he supposed that you might be persuaded to help us in making those.”

Theissen glanced at Theobold. Theobold gave a pained shrug, glancing at his own rudimentary whistle. Seeing the move, Theissen leaned over and whispered into his ear, “We’ll still have time to do work on carving. Don’t worry about it.”

The birdman forced a grin, sighing also.

“So!” Theissen turned to the others. “When do I start?”

They started the day after. A regular flock gathered in the lower areas of the tree village, all young men and women mostly curious about what the wizard wanted with them. Theissen had been setting up his tools and was just collecting the other tools the birdmen owned, putting them on a small resting flet in the center. Theobold had come along, his spirits dampened somewhat but determined not to leave Theissen’s side. Mensin had flown in and out of the swaying boughs, calling more people to come and hear out the wizard for a summer project.

Flapping with a gentle land, Mensin nodded to Theobold who averted his eyes and fluttered silently to the back of the resting flet. There was only space for a few things there. It was not meant to carry more than a few people. Theissen stood out on the edge, his face flushed and excited. The doctor watched from above, sighing as he shook his head slowly.

“You can begin,” Mensin said, grinning with a nod to Theissen.

Theissen took another step close to the edge. Theobold was half inclined to reach out and catch him, but Theissen proved to have better balance than he had thought.

“Welcome! No doubt you are curious as to why I summoned you all here.” Theissen gazed at all trees. Nearly on every sturdy branch and flet there sat a young birdman or birdwoman. It was like the clouds had settled in the leaves like a white and gray fog. All sorts of wings of birds with feathers gathered, including a handful of flashy peacock kind that strutted and preened before the others with pride. They all rustled about like birds. The only thing human about them was their lasting curiosity. Everything else was just as flighty as bird.

“For those who would like to learn something new and would also like to improve their situation in life, I have project for you,” he said.

A few birdmen fluttered away.

Mensin stood up, taking hold of Theissen’s shoulder as if to steady him, though he opened his wings wide so that the huge span of then filled the entire flet and then some. “The wizard has come to help us make the winters not so cold and boring.”

A couple birdmen flew back. A few more joined the flock.

Theissen turned with a mystified glance to Mensin. “How did you do that?”

“Appeal to their desires, wizard,” Mensin said with a smirk. “Remember, they hate work and they also don’t like the word ‘project’. It sounds tiring.”

Theobold hopped up and shook his head at Mensin, hissing into Theissen’s ear. “No. Ignore him. Be yourself. Just tell them the truth. I’ll bet they’re as bored are you are. They have so much energy, what else can they do with it?”

Nodding to him, Theissen addressed the crowd again as Mensin glared argumentatively at Theobold, starting an argument behind his back. “Alright. I’ll level with you. I’m bored. I’m used to working a full day at carpentry.”

Several of the birdmen shifted on their roosts, but they did not fly away.

“Your elders hired me to improve your winter shelters, but I took a good look at them and realized that this job is not the kind that one person can do alone.”

“You’re a wizard. You can do it!” one of the youth called from his perch.

Theissen made sickened a face. “I am a carpenter who happens to also be a wizard, yes. But there is no satisfaction in building with magic.”

They stared at him.

Sighing, Theissen glanced at the tools. “When I was a child, I used to mold toys out of the sawdust my father made while working. But I used to watch him every day, working at making tables and chairs and cabinets—”

“Boring,” someone said out in the crowd.

“Not boring,” Theissen said, looking right at him. “Amazing. Especially since he could make something from nothing without the aid of magic.”

“But using your magic is easier,” another said.

“But the quality isn’t as good,” Theissen replied, his irritation growing.

They stared. Almost all of the birdmen and women looked surprised.

Nodding, Theissen said, “I can make things with magic. But the results are not as satisfying. It’s like just eating fruit all day. You may be filled for a while, but then you feel hungry again. And also, you need to visit the pot all day. You stomach churns and your moods swing up and down. Sometimes a man just wants a piece of meat. Or a potato.”

They stared at him blankly.

“Or as you understand it, nuts, seeds, some good warm bread. And don’t any of you pretend you haven’t ever snitched baked goods from local villages in the east.” Theissen smirked. “I’ve seen you.”

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.

“All I want is a little, if not a lot, of help making your tree top village a little more livable if not a lot more comfortable.” He looked to Theobold. “Yes, it does take a large amount of sweaty work to get this job done. But imagine the satisfaction you will have when we are done. Warm homes. Dry homes. And beautiful homes.”

The crowd started