Wonkavania

‘Something wonderful is happening!’ said Norris the Wizard.

He was a jolly sorcerer who lived just atop a lonely place called Phantom Ridge. Not very many people knew the mysterious hermit. But whenever they were caught out beyond the tundra of Phantom Valley, they could count on seeing the lighthouse-like cottage of this little fellow.

Yes, he had a countenance that could shift a gloomy day. His radiant smile filled people with all kinds of joy, and his magic made skeptics believe in wonders far beyond possibility. Impracticality was his specialty. Whenever something was tossed or lost, old brother Norris the Wizard certainly could ascertain a more suitable use. His ingenuity allowed trash to prosper—in a most respectable manner.

He’d go about recycling junk left by travelers in the valley. He’d do this all at night. Under the cover of darkness, in his cloak atop his raptor, Nanny, he’d venture out with a magic lantern given him by a Norseman from the great eastern fjords.

‘Once you helped me find my path through the valley,’ said the Viking chap. ‘I grant you this token of light to honor your deed. Spare not any artifacts of the lost to ruinso as to safeguard the wellness of travelers.’

It was a prophetic warning, added the Viking:

‘See to it that none of the trash stays unused. For these parts be scattered with embers of evil left by the wicked wizard called Wonka—a vampiric chocolatier who survived for centuries in this realm. That’s why I decided to go on this adventure—a quest into Phantom Valley to find the ruins of Wonkavania—the castle abode of Count Wonka!’

The warrior was just as pleased to have found his way out of the valley. He vowed never to return. Even though he awarded Norris with the gold of a pathfinder—albeit the lantern—the Viking was beset on questing no further in the region.

‘I give you my thanks and my knowledge of this wicked prince,’ said he to the wizard. ‘He’ll be a coming one day out of nowhere, and only a brave bunch of heroes can settle the score. I was sent by my kin to scout out and test this place. I’m grateful to not have found such things. But now, it seems, I’d be weary if I were you. For Count Wonka will be coming back to build his army to conquer the world!’

The undertones of negativity merely rested at brief on the mind of the jolly wizard, who simply chuckled at this fairytale. The lore wasn’t enough to have spooked him. He promised the Viking to keep an eye out, and to savor the help of his newfound gift—that precious lantern of magic light.

And so, the years had passed, and Norris nearly forgot about it all. And upon this day when we begin our story, the wizard anticipated the arrival of the unicorn herds into the valley.

Soon the winding tundra and scattered woodlands would be adorned with the sight and sounds of unicorns. A most bedazzling sight it was, that drew few spectators to the region. Mainly from Alpaca University, near the town of Barkley, a professor or student usually came for study.

‘I’ll bet we’ll be seeing someone very soon along with the herd!’ declared the wizard.

And his prediction was correct. Just around the bend he spotted two elvish looking fellows, one young and one old, dressed as mountaineers. The raptor said hello with a startling roar that frightened the men. Norris did nothing but chuckle in his starry blue cloak. But the old one wasn’t buying this laughter for amusement.

Amazingly, Norris laughed harder when a silver shotgun was pointed at his face. The old fellow wielded this peculiar weapon, adorned with the likes of vampire bats on the twin hammers.

‘A double-barreled masterpiece!’ laughed the wizard.

‘A double possibility of you dying quick!’ said the old fellow.

‘And you sir?’ asked Norris of the young sport.

To the wizard’s surprise he too drew a weapon—but this was a big blade used for gutting elk.

‘Wonderful!’ declared Norris.

‘Ain’t nothing wonderful about it!’ shouted the old man.

‘Who be you two lads?’ asked the wizard.

‘We be Joe and Charlie,’ said the old man. ‘He’s Charlie and I’m bloody Joe. You hear?’

‘Oh, certainly! I’ve just been about, as every night, searching for treasure. But I figure we’re both in for a spectacular treat: the arrival of the herd.’

‘We don’t care about unicorns!’ said Charlie, the young lad.

‘And why not?’ asked Norris.

’Because we’ve been hired by the railroads to clean ‘em out!’ said Joe.

‘Ridiculous!’ said Norris, self-stricken with despair.

‘Oh, it ain’t ridiculous until you hear how much we’re getting’ paid,’ said Joe.

‘Isn’t this boy unfitted for this task?’

‘Of course, he is! But I’m here to show him how to hunt! He’s, my grandson.’

‘Consider this: why don’t we all retire to my cottage on Phantom Ridge? We can speak over coffee and a hot meal—about this dreaded oath you’ve taken to purge this land of unicorns. Hmm?’

‘We hunt at night, and we kill at night!’ said Joe.

‘Your point?’

‘We ain’t got no time to sit around and talk about other options!’ said Joe. ‘I’m here to waste unicorns, and that’s just what I’m gonna do. Because right now I can’t put food on the table and drink delicacies like coffee. I’ve been used to nothing but mud water and the sap of dead trees; fungus and curly weeds found out by the pond!’

‘What a dreadful life…’ pondered the wizard.

‘Your raptor looks fat enough! How you be feeding it?’ asked Joe.

‘I concocted a botanical substitute for its hearty diet. Using an eggplant variety native to this region I bred an iron rich meaty vegetable that can grow in the harshest of climates.’

‘Well, ain’t you one of them scientific wussies?’ said Joe.

‘Magic requires discipline and ethics. It is a science that cannot be tamed by brutes. And wussies, as you speak, are in my educated opinion, brutes. For, they neglect the effort of study in place of lassitude and sloth—of which, mostly they call some form of fun. But in reality, there’s nothing fun about being an idiot.’

‘You speak a lot of confusing words,’ said Charlie.

‘I’m a wizard, child! Confusing people is my specialty.’

‘Enough of your specialty!’ said Joe. ‘Now, move your raptor and yourself from our presence! We’re gonna get us a lot of skins tonight!’

The threat was predicated. Clear to the wizard was the certainty of the duo’s task being complete.

‘I’ll miss the unicorns…’ mumbled Norris.

‘Ain’t you even gonna try and stop us?’ asked Charlie.

‘I’m not going to do anything, except do what I do,’ said the wizard.

‘Quit speaking in tongues and answer the question!’ yelled Joe.

‘Alright. No, I’m not going to do anything. Good luck, is all I can say.’

‘Wait a minute! You know something! Don’t you?’ said Joe.

‘The area you plan on having your shootout is saturated with bogs. You will never see them until you are below them—sunk to the bottom where no one will ever find you. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen to you and your beloved grandchild?’

‘He’s just trying to scare us, Charlie! He’s an inhuman monster!’

‘To the contrary, I am a wizard. I tell it like it is. Good day, gentlemen.’

And Norris rode away slowly atop his good friend the raptor, Nanny.