The Making of Hope (FFM 14)

    Cornelius winced as he climbed the stone stairs of his home. Not only was the great wizard now a cripple, but he was getting old. Not even magic could halt the onslaught of time. Cornelius stopped, taking the moment to look at the view as he recovered his breath. The castle was old, situated far away from civilisation, and that was how Cornelius liked it.
    Gripping his gnarled staff, Cornelius closed his eyes. Like always, Cornelius could feel the hum of sheer power coming from the castle.    The castle had been built on top of a mountain, tapping into the four elements: earth, air, fire and water.
    It was odd to think that Cornelius had climbed this very mountain with the intent to die, only to find a castle filled with magic and secrets, instead. Briefly, Cornelius thought back to the dark days of his depression. Although it lingered still, grief had clouded his judgement. Back then, Cornelius had thought suicide would solve his problems.


    Many things had changed over the years. As far as he knew, the world was still recovering from the war. Cornelius no longer had his shop; it had been destroyed. Luckily, he was able to move and even summon most of the items that had been in his workshop and shop.   But the loss of his shop hadn't been the reason why Cornelius had left. He had lost something even dearer: Naomi. As a result, Cornelius became a recluse.


    During the war, Cornelius had been the King's chief wizard and, eventually, became an advisor of sorts. Newly crowned at the age of 19, King Falan had to deal with his kingdom being under attack by the power hungry King Solomon in a neighbouring kingdom, all the while coming to terms with his father's assassination. As was his duty, Cornelius went into battle.
    A shooting pain went up Cornelius' right leg. He grimaced. Phantom pain. Hidden by his tunic, Cornelius stared at his leg. During one battle, Cornelius fought against a dark wizard that belonged to King Solomon. The dark wizard had demons on his side, quite literally. The hound had ravaged Cornelius' leg. Which was how he met Naomi. Naomi had been a skilled healer, living a modest life tucked away in one of the local villages. Naomi had been the one who had fixed Cornelius' leg, as well as his spirit.


    Cornelius shut those memories away. He continued to climb the stairs. As he reached the top, the door clicked and opened for its master. As always when Cornelius entered the room, he stopped at a table that held a small mirror. Cornelius knew that he was torturing himself, but it was part of his routine.  
    He picked up the mirror and stared. Naomi smiled back. The small portable mirror could contain several of your most treasured memories. The mirror had been his third greatest discovery. His second greatest discovery was finding the castle on the mountain that had belonged to one of the ancient magi. But Naomi, the woman who had her own type of magic, was undoubtedly Cornelius' greatest discovery of all.
    It did not take long for them to fall in love. Thinking back on it, he supposed they hadn't been as discreet as they had thought. Spies had been in that hospital and, once Cornelius had been healthy enough to leave the village to speak with the King, they took action.
    They had burnt her house to the ground, along with Naomi inside it. With the help of magic, Cornelius had surrounded her grave with colourful bluebells. The flowers were all of the colours that he could think of, and he even birthed new shades and colours. They were every colour except the colour red. When the wind blew and the bluebells bobbed, the tinkle of her laughter would ring into the open air.


    Cornelius brought himself back to the present. Looking at Naomi one last time, he left the room and went back to check on his latest creation.
    For many years now, Cornelius longed for another person in his life. He was getting older and, like his tutor, he wanted to pass all of his knowledge on magic onto someone else. He wanted a student. He wanted to care for and love someone.
    He wanted a child.
    And so Cornelius had set out to make one. As it turned out, it had been fate that led Cornelius to this castle: the ancient magi who made the castle had been successful creating life with magic. Almost as if the ancient wizard had the ability to predict the future, the ancient wizard noted down the ingredients, spell and items that would be needed.
    When he reached the locked door, he muttered a spell and the heavy bolts moved out of place. Cornelius entered the room and looked at his growing daughter. In the middle of the room, there was a giant protective bubble and a little baby inside. The magic bubble served something akin to a uterus. The baby would absorb nutrients and would grow until the time of her birth.
    His daughter already had a name. He gave her a special name, a name that encompassed Cornelius' past, present and future: Hope.


    Naomi always told Cornelius that hope was the greatest gift of all.