The Magician's Legacy

Cozy. That was Nathaniel’s first impression as he and Timmy entered the bookstore. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper. Tall bookshelves stretched to the ceiling, packed with books of every size and color. A narrow staircase off to one side led to the second floor, likely filled with even more shelves.

Behind the counter stood a tall and slim woman with white hair swept into a bun. Despite the lines of age etched into her features, she still carried an air of elegance.

"Hi, Timmy! Lovely to see you! Here for another comic, or are you ready to try the one I recommended?" She adjusted her glasses slightly as she greeted them with a soft, welcoming smile. 

"Actually, I am on tour guide duty today. Mr. Nathaniel here wants to check out the bookstore." Timmy introduced. Although his hand gestured toward Nathaniel, his eyes kept glancing over the comic book section.

"I'm going to look around for a bit. Why don’t you go enjoy your comics?" Nathaniel encouraged, gently nudging Timmy toward the shelves.

"But ..."

"Don't worry." He reassured the boy. "This is part of the tour guide job. We can check out other places later—you’ll still earn your badge."

Timmy grinned and dashed to the comic book section, quickly grabbing a comic and diving into its pages.

"Sweet boy, isn’t he?" the woman said, smiling fondly at Timmy before turning her attention to Nathaniel. "Welcome to my humble bookstore. My name is Whitney Avalon. You can just call me Whitney."

"Nice to meet you," Nathaniel replied. "Are you the founder of this bookstore?"

“Yes, I am,” Whitney said with a hint of pride. “This place is my entire retirement savings. I’ve always dreamed of owning a bookstore. Though, with the way things are, it feels more like a library now.” She gestured toward the shelves. “Are you looking for something to read?”

"Of course. I love reading. But may I ask about the infinity symbol on the sign? You come up with it yourself?". Nathaniel asked, his tone curious as he watched her reaction.

“Ah, sadly no,” Whitney said, shaking her head. “A local customer suggested it.”

Nathaniel’s face lit up for a moment but fell as she continued. “She said it symbolizes the importance and vastness of knowledge.”

“A she?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong with that?” Whitney asked, narrowing her eyes slightly at Nathaniel’s peculiar response.

“Oh, no,” Nathaniel said quickly. “An old friend of mine used to say the same thing. I thought he might be on this island when I saw the sign.”

“Are you here looking for him?”

“No, I’m just sightseeing, exploring a bit,” he replied, steering the conversation in another direction. “Do you know any good local myths? I love those—they really capture the culture of a place.”

“I’m not actually a local,” Whitney admitted. “I moved here after my retirement, so I’m not familiar with any myths. There’s a small festival once a year to celebrate the fishing harvest, if that’s what you’re looking for. Would you like me to find you a book on the topic?”

“Thank you, but I’d prefer to look around for a bit,” Nathaniel replied, stepping closer to a nearby shelf and skimming the titles on display. The books seemed ordinary—common titles that could be found in any bookstore. Nothing hinted at a connection to the Magician just yet. “The sign can’t just be a coincidence,” Nathaniel muttered under his breath, trying to reassure himself. He turned back toward Whitney.

“You said this place feels more like a library. Why is that?” he asked.

“Ah,” Whitney said, smiling at the question. “I can’t update my stock very often—being so far from the mainland and all. So some customers started returning books they’d bought so others could read them too. It caught on, and now people borrow and return books instead of buying. Some even donate their old books. It’s become a bit of a community tradition.”

“People here read that much?” Nathaniel asked, his tone skeptical.

Whitney’s smile faltered, replaced by a faint frown. “They do indeed. The curiosity for knowledge is in everyone, Mr. Nathaniel. Many even share it with each other. That’s the beauty of it.”

“Oh. May I have a look at those donations? I might find something vintage that catches my interest,” Nathaniel said, steering the conversation.

“They’re upstairs. Let me—” Whitney began, pointing toward the second floor, but Timmy’s voice cut her off.

“Miss Whitney, could you get me the next volume on that shelf? I can’t reach it!”

“Oh! Careful, Timmy! Let me get that for you,” Miss Whitney exclaimed, hurrying over to help.

Seizing the opportunity, Nathaniel dashed upstairs. If the Magician had been here, he might have disguised himself as an ordinary customer and left a clue in one of the donated books.

As expected, the second floor was filled with more shelves, arranged into narrow aisles. Nathaniel moved quickly from aisle to aisle, skimming the books. Many were old—so fragile they might crumble at a touch. The collection was eclectic: classic novels, guidebooks on cooking and crafting, even a decades-old primary school textbook. He began to suspect that people weren’t donating books to share knowledge but simply offloading their unwanted junk onto Miss Whitney.

“Still nothing?” Nathaniel sighed, placing an old origami book back on the shelf. He leaned against the shelf, trying to figure out what he might have missed. That’s when he felt it—a faint texture under his fingers. He brushed away some dust and noticed carvings on the wood. At first glance, they were easy to overlook: a series of dots running along the length of the shelf. His eyes widened in recognition as he traced the pattern with his fingers.

It was Braille—but not just any Braille. Magical Braille.

In 1821, Louis Braille invented a tactile writing system for the visually impaired. But few knew he had also been a mage. Alongside the familiar system, he had created a magical variant intended for visually impaired mages. Unlike the ordinary Braille, magical Braille conjured vivid, three-dimensional images directly into the reader’s mind while still maintaining a secret from normal people who would just dismiss them as senseless carvings.

"This is brilliant," Nathaniel murmured. Many mages did not bother to study Braille, dismissing it as cumbersome and unnecessary, since there were easier, vision-dependent ways to communicate. Incompetent mages would likely choose what is easy and practical than something this brilliant and intricate. The Magician’s use of magical Braille was clever—it effectively excluded those lazy mages.

Nathaniel, however, was not one of them.

After a quick glance to ensure Miss Whitney was still downstairs with Timmy, Nathaniel closed his eyes and began to trace the pattern with his fingers, murmuring incantations under his breath.

Soon, a vision came to him. He found himself standing on a beach surrounded by people dressed elegantly in tuxedos and dresses. They sat neatly in rows of white chairs adorned with flowers. A red carpet stretched down the center, leading to a beautifully decorated gate. It looked like a wedding venue.

“Where am I?” Nathaniel murmured to himself, scanning the scene for clues.

Near the gate, a young man with a large mustache stood nervously, clearly the groom. Nathaniel quickly recognized him—it was Mr. Turner, or at least a younger version of him.

"How funny that any man would be so nervous on the happiest day of his life." A voice beside him said. Nathaniel turned to see someone standing next to him. Although the figure’s tuxedo was sharp and clear, his facial features were strangely blurry, as though deliberately obscured to prevent recognition. The young Mr. Turner kept glancing toward where the figure stood, to which he responded with two encouraging thumbs up.

Music began to play as the bride appeared behind them, dressed in a stunning white gown. She walked slowly down the red carpet toward the groom. A little girl with a ponytail walked ahead of her, scattering confetti. As the guests erupted in cheers and applause, the blurry figure turned to Nathaniel and said "Got to go. Big day!" and stepped forward, took the bride's hand, and walked her down the aisle.

Nathaniel tried to follow but the sand beneath him suddenly shifted and pulled him down. He fell hard, landing on a cold, unyielding surface. Rising to his feet, he realized he was now on the main street in front of a shop. Two men on ladders were perched on either side of a shop sign, bickering in thick Italian accents as they adjusted the letters.

"Move the letters to your side! The octopus should be over here." said the tall and thin man, clean-shaven with bushy hair.

The other, short and stocky with a bald head and a large beard, crossed his arms. “No! It looks better on this side! You’re the one who needs to move the letters.”

Nathaniel turned to find the blurry figure standing beside him once more, chuckling as he watched the two men argue.

“Who are you? Are you The Magician? I’m here for your legacy. I am—” Nathaniel began, but before he could finish, the figure raised a hand to silence him and pointed upward.

“Watch out!” the figure warned. Nathaniel instinctively looked up and threw his arms over his head as the letters from the sign came tumbling down.

He braced for impact, but none came. Instead, Nathaniel now was inside The Compendium, but it seemed to be from an earlier time. A younger-looking Miss Whitney was greeting the blurry figure as he handed her a book.

“This isn’t just a Braille message, is it? You’ve put a fragment of your mind into it. I’m in your mind palace now. What do you want to show me?” He yelled at the figure.

The figure replied to him by pointing toward the staircase while still chatting with Miss Whitney. Nathaniel hesitated, then began to ascend. The steps transformed beneath his feet, becoming a winding staircase inside a towering lighthouse. From above, a little girl's voice rang out, urging him. "Hurry up! Hurry up! You're going to miss the sunset." He looked up but only saw a ponytail disappearing around the curve of the stairs.

He quickened his pace, following the girl’s laughter echoing ahead, but when he reached the top, he found himself standing on the deck of a fishing boat. Rain lashed against him as the sky churned with dark clouds and thunder.

“Are you just standing there, or are you going to help, young man?” a gruff voice called out. Nathaniel turned and saw the blurry figure standing beside a Japanese fisherman. Both were struggling to pull a large net from the sea.

“What is the meaning of all this? What do you want me to do?” Nathaniel shouted, his voice barely cutting through the roar of the waves.

The blurry figure thrust the net into his hands. “Pull, you idiot!”

Nathaniel gripped the wet, heavy net and hauled with all his strength. The net surged, and a massive tuna leapt aboard, its powerful tail striking him and knocking him over.

Saltwater stung his throat as he coughed violently. When he stood, the boat was gone. He was now standing at the entrance of a cave. Water seeped in with the rising tide, pooling around his feet. The blurry figure was nowhere in sight.

Then he heard a faint voice call to him from within the cave. Heart pounding, he ventured inside, stepping carefully over jagged rocks until he reached a wall. Glowing runic symbols appeared as he approached. With a low rumble, the wall split open, revealing a dark passage. A voice echoed from the depths, inviting him.

“Come! My legacy is for you to take if you are good enough.”

Before he could explore further, a gentle tap on his shoulder jolted him back to reality.

“Are you alright, Nathaniel? You were just standing there with your eyes closed,” Miss Whitney asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Nathaniel quickly composed himself. “I’m fine. I was just deciding what to buy—so many options.” He grabbed the origami book from the shelf. “Here. I’ll take this one. Would you wrap it for me? It’s a gift for a friend.”

Miss Whitney took the book, her eyes lingering on Nathaniel with a puzzled expression. “Gladly!” she said, offering a soft smile before heading downstairs.

Nathaniel turned back to the Braille carvings, but that was the end of it, no more vision. The magician's voice still echoed in his mind. His legacy was hidden inside a cave. Now, he just needed to locate where it was.

After bidding Miss Whitney farewell, Nathaniel and Timmy returned to the main street. Timmy skipped joyfully beside him, clutching the comic book Miss Whitney had gifted him.

“The bookstore was great,” Nathaniel said. “You’re an excellent tour guide, Timmy. I also enjoy exploring caves. Do you know of any on this island?”

Timmy paused in thought. "There's one on the west coast. But Mr. Turner told me not to go there. It's dangerous on high tide as the water rises quickly. Not a good place to explore." He replied, then turning back to his tour guide role. "Over there is the fish market, you can find all kinds of fish there..."

Nathaniel’s mind raced. That cave must be the one. That cave must be the one. He needed to get rid of this little tour guide so he could act freely.

"Oh! Silly me! I forgot something back at the bookstore,” Nathaniel said, putting on a sheepish smile. “But I’ve been wanting to check out the fish market. Could you go back and grab it for me? Please my little tour guide?”

Timmy’s eyes lit up. “Sure, Mr. Nathaniel! Leave it to me!” He snapped a quick scout salute before dashing off toward the bookstore.

A half-smile crept across his face. Without hesitation, he turned and made his way toward the road leading to the west coast, where The Magician’s challenge awaited him.