Lost Art

The Magician

It's a unique power I have, hard to describe, hard to use, but so powerful that it cannot be 'learned.' This lost art is one of the five that make the pentagram of the Artes, how we define our 'classes.' Our most important structure. Point one, Elemental. Point two, Necromancy. Point three, Mind Magic. Point four, Shape Shifting. Point five, Illusion.

And then there's my Point. The center, the negative space, the abstract, Creation. A lost ability. Creation is a power akin to God, the breathing of a soul into a physical body. Anything. Though each of the Creator Magician's of past had a certain affinity for particular species, never humans. I'm the first to relate with inanimate objects. To be exact, breathing life into Origami.

The Crown

The Crown of us Magicians is a black spear forged long, long, ago, before the creation of titles, states of being, and the rules and definitions we teach and follow now, for better or for worse. Before we got organized, and we lived in cults. Triton-shaped of a substance akin to onyx, but much, much, more special.

It's basic – first plane – self was crafted of the stuff, to be sure. With an element of tiger eye because that was the name of the cult that forged it, but it was what they included on the second and third plane that earned the title the Crown. Only the strongest of our strongest is able to simply look upon it. The third plane itself is virtually impossible to see.

It is our Miracle Workers that can actually use it with any amount of effectiveness. Or even know how to use the thing.

On the third plane, the tiger eye cult Magician's had bound their own souls, their Life, their breath, into an aura. They existed, now, as the Crown, and always would. It gave the Crown a consciousness of the five insane Magicians' that had sparked it. That was why only our strongest could see it, let alone carry it. Most – but we all know better than to make sweeping generalities – were driven mad and never returned to their first plane bodies. Which we turned to branch and bloom; which theoretically would allow the person who had left, to return, if their soul ever did eventually figure themselves out.

You ask why I know all of this? Take a wild guess.

A Death

Our strongest, the Magician who carries the Crown, we call our king. Or queen. But usually it's a king, because the feminine influence in magic had a tendency to be more subtle than the Crown is used to dealing with. A king with the Crown is enough of a potent duo to protect the majority of us from the things that come from the third plane, and beyond, which would otherwise destroy us.

It has become a harbinger of doom when a woman discovers the Crown in her dreams – being that Magician's don't have dreams the times we remember excursions in sleep are clairvoyance – a latent tendency in all who posses a magic skill. Has something to do with the planes of existence. And all their sublevels. But this vision is how those of us would become king or queen. We accept whoever chooses to take the journey to try and find it on principal, because they will be the ones saving our collective asses.

King Leon died barely a week before I awoke from my sleep with the image of the Crown burned into my mind.

And so following my father, I became a queen. Possibly the last, ever.