Legends of Green Isle - The Forgotten Spell
Agitated, the river water bubbled and swirled under the
fog. The onlookers stepped back in shock as arms and a head rose from the murky depths. The body moved quietly upwards, breaking the ripples, until the dry figure of a middle-aged gentleman sporting curly black hair and a long black and gray beard floated above the cascading liquid. His feet, barely touching the shimmering surface, hung mid air above the flowing water, as his eyes remained closed against the sunset. Miranda screamed slightly when the lids opened unexpectedly, and pale blue eyes looked directly at her.
Keltrain, dressed in a large blue wool robe and pants, with a white shirt and leather boots which laced up to his knees, glided to the shore. Tentatively he stretched out a leg touching the grass with a toe. Unsure of his footing, he pushed several times at the vegetation, until he grew satisfied, placing his full weight upon the soft turf.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve had legs! Didn’t know if I
would still remember how to use them.”
He bounced up and down, bending and moving in an
exaggerated dance. Arranging his spectacles on his nose, he glanced down at himself.
“Can’t say too much has changed in all those years!”
“You’ve been a fish, Keltrain. There’s not much to change
when you’re a fish,” DaGon advised shaking his head.
“Well, yes, I guess you’re right my friend.”
Digging in oversized pockets on his right side, he rummaged
through their contents.
“I know I stored it in here somewhere,” he remarked under
Plunging his arm deeper into the pocket on the interior of
his cloak, his eyes lit up.
“Here it is,” he said with a grin, as he extracted his
Pulling forth a plain, black hat, with an oversized brim,
he promptly placed it on his head. Stroking his beard, he regarded the
individuals staring at him.
“Is it flat?” he asked touching the top of it with his
fingers as he saw the bewildered looks of the group.
“It’s fine Keltrain!” Lily assured charmingly.
She buzzed around his head checking its condition. “How
nice to see the real you. I couldn’t image being a fish for thousands of years! We certainly appreciate the sacrifice you made for Green Isle, being a salmon these long years.”
“Well I’ve got to tell you, honestly, being a fish isn’t
that great. I always had this irresistible urge to swim upstream and the
bugs…ugh! I’ve eaten my fill of them!”
“It definitely isn’t pork chops and mashed potatoes,” Ned interjected.
“No, dear boy, it isn’t pork chops and mashed potatoes,” Keltrain chuckled.
He brushed blades of river grass from his blue garments.
“Yet, I had to transform! The Green Isle and the world
beyond the portals were in danger. Without the vision of the White Salmon of Prophecy, I wouldn’t be able to see who would rescue us!”
“What kind of spell is that? The White Salmon of Prophecy?”
Matt asked as he fell into step with the wizard.
“One I learned from a certain druid in the old land! He
apparently used it on himself once upon a time. Although come to think of it, I believe he’s still is in the form of a fish.”
“It’s very interesting that the spell would choose the form
of a salmon,” Miranda commented.
“Well, I believe it was an ancient creature of wisdom in
this particular druid’s culture. The form of the fish came with the
incantation. I couldn’t change it.”
“I would’ve picked something with more pizzazz,” Thomas said.
“Aye, but then ye wouldn’t be havin’ the fun of eatin’ flies!” Lamfada laughed.
Keltrain sat down at the table and motioned to Matt to come nearer.
“Where’s Quert?” the wizard asked the boy.
“He’s back at the stables, sir! DaGon placed him in the pack on my horse.”
Matt turned towards the hill they had exited from, intent on retrieving the owl.
The wizard caught him by the arm and winked, his voice jolly, “Oh I think not! I believe he’s right here!”
He pointed to his other hand, which lay flat on the table.
Mumbling a phrase in the eerie language he used before, the box grew under his palm.
“It’s Quert’s box!” Miranda exclaimed, clapping her hands