Justice Featherstone

His Supreme Eminence, Magic Practitioner Justice Featherstone was not having a good time. His legs were beginning to cramp, his feet were beginning to go numb, and there was something sharp that kept scratching his neck whenever he tried to move. It was his own fault, of course. No one told him to sit inside a rosebush for hours.

A few days ago, Justice Featherstone had gotten the bright idea to find an apprentice. After all, he needed the extra help and there were plenty of children who weren’t doing anything particularly useful with their time. Featherstone figured that he would find a child around ten or eleven years old, train it up a bit, and his problems would be solved. But finding the right child was proving tricky. Almost every one he encountered was aggressively monitored by suspicious adults, who seemed to think that strange old men lurking nearby were up to no good. Featherstone couldn’t imagine why. What he really needed was a large group of children that weren’t being minded too carefully. 

Then inspiration struck: a school! Dozens of children, most of them only loosely supervised, like ripe apples waiting to be plucked from the tree. If he staked out an elementary school playground, he should be able to select a child at his leisure. Of course, he didn’t want his presence to be known until he had made his selection. Hence, the rosebush disguise. Featherstone covered himself very carefully in leaves and selected a nice spot next to the playground fence. From there, he had a reasonably good view of the children whenever they came out for recess. 

After three hours of crouching in the bush, however, Featherstone was seriously thinking of giving up. So far, none of the children that he had seen seemed like good candidates. They were all too loud and too whiny and just wouldn’t sit still. An apprentice who couldn’t sit still would be about as useful as a wand made of wet spaghetti. Just when he was about to leave, a small figure caught Featherstone’s attention. There was a child sitting in a corner of the playground, reading a book. While the other children shrieked and flailed like caffeinated squirrels, this one remained unmoved, a statue of calm in a sea of chaos. Featherstone’s heart leapt. What luck! he thought. An apprentice who could already read would be even easier to train.

Without waiting to see if the coast was clear, Featherstone leapt forward and began climbing the playground fence. He nearly made it to the top before a blood-curdling scream pierced the air.

“BUSH MONSTER!!!” shouted a particularly loud child.

Pandemonium ensued. The next thing Featherstone knew, he was being assaulted through the chain links by a large woman with a shovel.

“GET BACK!” she roared, swiping at him like an avenging angel of yard maintenance.

Featherstone realized that his window of opportunity was closing. The one with the book was still there, although no longer reading. The child watched him with an expression of curiosity rather than terror. Featherstone had to make a decision quickly. He knew that he did not have enough magic on him to turn the shrieking woman into a toad and get back to Cattrah with the child.

Mustering all his strength, Featherstone finished scaling the fence and landed hard on the other side. His rosebush disguise fell apart with the impact. The shovel-wielding woman advanced with frightening determination. Featherstone rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow aimed directly at his head.

The playground was in full chaos now. Other adults were coming into the yard and most of the children had retreated in terror. Featherstone scrambled to his feet and made a mad dash towards the child with the book. He reached out, grabbed the child’s arm, and was promptly whacked by the business end of the shovel. Stars exploded in his vision as he crumpled to the ground. Darkness closed in, but Featherstone’s fingers found the familiar weight of the amulet around his neck. He clutched it tightly, clinging to one last, desperate thought.

Then, everything went black.