Ulias and the Bonfire

 

The villagers were sure the Beltane fire had been "pixied." No matter what they tried, they could not get the annual bonfire to stay lit. It didn't stop the celebrants from eating and drinking their fill, but it was getting dark, and Beltane without a bonfire just would not do.

Even the best huntsman who boasted he could start a fire in a rainstorm had no luck.

"What about old Ulias?" the cobbler asked, slurring his words a little and taking another pull off a wineskin. "He ain't done any wizarding in a while."

Ulias, the old village wizard, had never been known as a great conjurer. His advice mostly involved herbs, mushrooms, and the peculiarities of the weather.

But desperate measures were required, and someone dispatched several dirty, barefoot boys into the walled city to round up the wizard. He arrived a few minutes later, buttoning his ceremonial robe.

"We need a fire," someone said. "Pixies have gotten into the wood," another said. "Where's the wine?" the cobbler asked.

Someone tossed a wineskin toward the cobbler, missed him by five paces, and Ulias caught it.

"Have a drink!" someone bellowed. The crowd agreed. "Ain't never seen a drunk wizard," someone said. "Might be fun," another said. Wagers started about the old man's chances for breaking the pixie's curse.

The crowd was buzzing like a hornet's nest. Ulias had just wanted some peace on this warm evening, and now he was on display. He didn't like being on display.

Still, the quicker he got this over with, the quicker he could go back to his small room and his meditations with some nice dried mushrooms.

"G'ahead," the cobbler slurred. "Do some magic. It might do you some good."

"Silence!" he cried, adding a little of The Power to his voice. The crowd froze, shock and amazement on some faces.

Ulias took a long drink from the wineskin and tossed it to the ground. A few of the most wobbly villagers applauded and were hushed by their neighbors.

"Oh powers of old," Ulias started.

"Heed our voices dire.
Contrary magic has given taint
To our sacred fire.
Help us now so we may
Give thanks for winter past.
And look ahead to better days
With this my spell I cast."

Two rays of vivid light erupted from his hands, and the throng cried out and fell back from the bonfire that exploded like the sunset. Flames swirled up, twisting into a spiral high into the purple sky.

Then it settled down into a respectable blaze. The villagers murmured, waiting to see if it would stay lit.

Unnoticed again at last, Ulias finished the wineskin and slipped away in the dancing shadows. The cobbler had been right, he mused. It was good to exercise the old talent again. He unbuttoned his robe as he walked home.

One dirty, barefoot boy watched him leave. He wondered if anyone else had felt a strange tingle down their spine when the magic had been cast.

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