Lennox & Sinclair (2023)

Story summary: Middle-age wizard Lennox has decided to merge three gems as a birthday gift for their partner Sinclair. The problem is anything that is natural cannot be changed. Lennox has spent the last three months learning the hard way. Do they succeed? Do they fail? Read now to find out!

Disclaimer: This is a new version of this horribly written story. I’m leaving the old version up as remainder and for folks to read.

Does a word exist to conceptualize feelings when all words fall short? Is it synonymous with failure? Rhyme in a poem with inadequacy? Can it be defined by months of trials, documenting the most minutiae errors and hair-pulling anger? Such questions plague the mind of the Wizard, who sits at their desk exhausted after the fifteenth time casting the spell in three months. Looking down at the triplets of purple gems, they thought to destroy them. They will destroy them. Power reverberates into their hand. A soft ting stops them and causes them to regret thinking about doing it. Looking up at the source of the sound, they smile at the clock sitting atop the pedestal on their desk. They admire the iron Windhill lantern clock, a masterpiece. Its single hand, resting on five—evening. After gliding over the wingframe, it is decided that a respite is long overdue.

After admiring the exquisite workmanship, they depart to the kitchen. Entering the room, a heady mixture of tart aromas attacks their nose, lifting their spirit. A delicious meal in preparation, looking at the billows of smoke hanging in the air. All the wonderful smells caused their stomach does all the speaking. This dinner will magically disappear, they thought. The Wizard sat at the table, watching their servant cook. Their stomach growls again.

One-hundred long arms move in different directions, cooking, cleaning up, or both. Perfection, if you ask. Everything is in symmetrical precision in their kitchen. Not an inch off, nor a degree. As per their specification. The vibrant purple walls complement the silver table, which offsets the checkered flooring.

“Ho, ho. Who aroused you from your prison? Eh, Lennox?” a soft, humorous voice spoke. Appearing from behind is their partner of ten years, a sharp redhead.

“Pish posh, Sinclair. A wizard’s workroom,is not a prison! but—”

“A place of serendipitous creation and wonderful happenings. As you said, plenty over the years.”

“I shall declare again until you learn,” they proclaimed, the index finger in the air, chest puffing out. Lennox made a fool of themself as their beloved laughed at them.

Sinclair, grabbing the tea cup from one of the arms, sips and speaks: “Ah Lurch, how are you able to make superb tea every single time, you must teach me. And you, my love, pray tell, what are you working on in such secrecy.”

“What’s alchemy, my dear?” the Wizard ask.

Their partner nods. “After marriage to you for ten years, I learned more about your studies; I’d rather stay blissfully ignorant about the subject. Alas, the answer is the transmutation of other metals into gold.”

“Wonderful, I taught you plenty. What I am attempting, in my workroom: to merge three gems into one.”

Lennox smiled at the red eyebrow raised at them. As partners for years, they predict each thought before they even can speak them. Still, the couple humor each other.

“Magic cannot alter anything natural; the paramount rule, no? Alchemists can transmute metals, but the gold reverts back. Why try the impossible?”

“Why try the impossible? For reasons that shall remain with me,” Lennox said.

Sinclair sips the tea again and smiles.

“But, yes. Our world remains—magically—unchangeable. A rock is a rock; no magic changes a rock. However, I see the possibility. Alchemy, Sinclair. They discovered a way to transmute metal into another form. True enough, the longest recorded process lasts a day. They walk on the right path. What if one should attempt to unify three similar materials? Yes, I’m aware an attempt like mine’s unoriginal. Nevertheless—”

“Ye Gods, cannot I enjoy tea before dinner? Hush, or should I learn a spell to silence you? I regret to say that wouldn’t stop that mouth of yours. Perhaps your mother cursed you as a babe to gab on forever. And mine cursed me to endure it out of love. Woe is me, woe is me,” Sinclair dramatically interjected.

Aside from Lennox’s smirking, the two sat silent till dinner time. As Lurch places food on the table.

After finishing roasted pork, beans, and cottage pie, the servant places plates of food on the table. The couple thanked Lurch for the superb meal and took apple crisp and vanilla ice cream to the workroom.

Lennox reads Alchemy by Professor Emeritus Walter Arden of the School of Magic Arts. Found on bookshelves of hobbyists and professionals alike. Sinclair savors a spoonful of dessert. Murmuring words penned down shy of fifty years ago. ‘The overbearing truth of alchemic magic hides a double meaning in itself. I learned not only by studying it but by teaching it. As true as we cannot morph the natural world. We, too, cannot change the rule, thus making the art redundant in the purview of outsiders. Thereby lies the beauty. We chase permanence, a desire of immortality.’

“What are you chasing?”

“What I’ve chased all adulthood; the esemplastic power of magic to create perfection. A fool’s dream, but I’m one to the end,” Lennox said.

“Hm, broad. What specific thing do you want to create, and why’re you chasing it?”

“That shall remain a secret.”

“Still won’t tell me? Oh well. I shall leave you now. It’s Lurch’s story time. He gets grumpy when The Raven Ate The Sun isn’t read before bed, as you know. Do not stay up late. You act more foolish sleep deprived,” their partner responds.

With a quick kiss, Sinclair left. Lennox decides to perform the spell. Words spoken with authority bring about strong casts. Uttered meekly, it’s comparable to a fresh wizard—amateur at worst. They get into the idea they’re a God commanding mortals to work together. When magic happens, they analogize electricity jolting through the body. All five senses heighten to their zenith. They see white clouds and blue sky through their ceiling. They hear Sinclair’s soft voice reading to Lurch, smell the dinner they ate, and honeysuckle perfume. They feel one with the world as if they’ve molded into the constitution. Power surges through them, building up into one giant charge of freedom. Now, they must release that power. That’s where words come in. Lennox spoke as if they were a deity.

“Become one!”

Lennox felt confident the brightness of the gems turned out stronger than expected. Perhaps this authority is needed, that of a God. As the hubris elevated his ego, disappointment brought it down to mortal levels as the shine died at the sight of separate gems. Almost muscle memory, the thought of picking up their notes came, instead slumps into their chair, unable to muster the desire to read anymore. Lennox thought of Sinclair.

“I wonder if they’d accept these? I wanted the perfect birthday gift for the perfect partner.”

They rise, sigh, walk toward the door, and turn off the light. Lennox left. In the dark, the three gems glow in unison, creating a symmetrical unified whole.


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