“So, what is magic?” James asked the cloaked and hooded figure sitting at the table across from him.

Baldur, extended his gloved hand and picked up the wooden mug of ale in front of him and took a deep draught of the liquid inside. Ignoring the question for the moment, he looked around the lively tavern. The tables neared to them were empty, creating a zone of privacy. Card games and ruckus laughter at the bar further in the room, combined with the clean burning oil lamps created a cheerful atmosphere in the room.

Baldur put the mug down on the table and in a deep rumbling voice, a voice that was felt more than heard said, “Boy, I appreciate your assistance, but you don’t know what you are asking. If I reveal this secret to you, there are only two ways this could go.” He did not say anything further, did not explain what are the two ways, letting James figure them out on his own.

James, giddy with excitement and feeling incredibly lucky that an esteemed and honorable magician, one of the most feared and admired individuals on continent of Irdu would spare even a moment to converse to such a lowly person as James. A stable boy, nobody really.

James tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. Feeling the magicians eyes on him, he drank from his own tankard, his hands trembling only a little. He cleared his throat and in a horse whisper said, “I always wanted to know. I grew up with my old dad telling me stories about the magicians, how you can travel anywhere, cannot be killed, can make anything real. You can summon fire, call lightning from the sky…” He trailed off and seemed to wilt under the stare hidden by the ominous hood.

“I will tell you, I will explain magic.” Baldur rumbled. He raised his hand to forestall a reply from James and continued, “After that, I will give you a choice. I’ll ask you a question and you will answer honestly and truthfully.”

James could practically feel the heat emanating from the eyes invisible under the hood. He gave a serious nod to the magician.

The magician raised his hand to the barkeep and even before he could say a word, the server deposited another two mugs of ale in front of the stable boy and the magician.

“To understand magic, you have to understand what is real.” The magician began. “I will explain and demonstrate like my teachers did, many years ago. When I was no older than you are right now. You can ask any questions you like and I’ll answer” He said.

James nodded his head up and down in agreement.

“Reality is an agreement. It is something that we have agreed to be real and therefore it is real.” Baldur said.

“I.. I don’t understand.” James said, hesitantly.

Baldur put his empty tankard in the center of the table and pointed at it. “You know it is a tankard, you know it is empty, made of wood. You know how heavy it is, the feel of it in your hand, the smell. So does everyone in this room and you have agreed that it is there. It is real to you. If the other stable boy -”

“Hobb.” James interrupted,

The magician smiled and said, “If Hobb came in and said that it is chicken, you all would think him mad. It would not be real.”

“Y.. Yeeess. I think I understand” James said uncertainly.

“But,” Baldur said, “If I said it’s a chicken and turned this tankard into a chicken,” He had raised his voice so that the surrounding tables were looking at him and heard his proclamation. When he noticed that he had most of the attention in the room, with a lightning crack he clapped his hands and a chicken, pecking on the table stood where a tankard was a moment ago.

James partially jumped out of his seat, startled by the noise of the sudden hand clap. A polite applause followed from the onlookers in the tavern. James sat back down as the chicken left the table and scurried out the batwing doors.

“Now, everyone agrees that it is a chicken and not a tankard for ale.” Baldur said. “That makes it real.”

James, more firmly and understanding better said, “So, reality is what we agree to be real. If we all,” He gestured around the room, encompassing everyone, “agree that something is real, it is real.”

“Well done.” Baldur rumbled. “It usually takes longer than that for folks to understand.”

“I’m pretty bright.” James said with a self satisfied smile.

“So, if that is reality, then what is magic?” He asked.

Baldur laughed, his deep basso laughter rattling the cutlery on the table. “You don’t go for the little things, do you boy? You just uncovered one of the biggest mysteries of this universe and you want more. “ He wiped his hidden eyes with his hands and said, “Very well.”

“Magic is changing the reality. When I turned that tankard into a chicken, it became reality that it is a chicken and not a tankard.” Baldur explained.

“Sure, how do you do that?” James asked a little skeptically.

“I raised my hands and clapped them together, sharply.” Baldur said.

James raised his own hands and looking at his empty tankard, brought them sharply together. The sound was as much a thunderclap as a burp is to a gunshot. Nothing happened and them men who were carefully watching the magician and the boy let out a mocking laughter and hoots. James felt his face suffuse with blood in crimson blush.

Without a word, the magician produced another thunderclap. A twin sister to the first chicken jumped from the table, where the boys tanker stood. The lighter died immediately and the men returned to their games, a little sheepishly.

“Why didn't it work?” James asked in a whisper.

“That, boy, is because I’m a magician and you are not.” Baldur said. He lifted one gloved finger and added, “I promised to explain, so I will. I will give you the greatest secret of all.”

James sat up straight, giving an undivided attention to Baldur.

“I did not turn that tankard into a chicken. Only thing I can do to it is to empty it of all the ale it contains.” He said in a quiet rumble.

“But, how? Who did it then?” James asked.

“You did. Every man in this room did it. You see, I’m a magician. I wear a mysterious cloak, a hood. I have great power. I can do everything.” He said, putting the last in air quotes.

“When I say, I’ll turn this tankard into a chicken, every single person in this room believed it. There was no doubt or reservation enyones mind that I would do it. So, what is real?” He asked.


James thought for a moment and then said, “Because everyone agreed that the tankard is chicken and everyone in the room agreed that you can do it, then when you clapped your hands..” He trailed off, suddenly realizing the truth about magic.

“Nobody in the room believes that you can do magic, not even yourself. So when you tried to transform the tankard, nothing happened.” Baldur said and took a drought from his mug.

“Just belief and just a simple agreement without conviction will not do. You have to know. Everyone needs to know without a doubt that it is real and it will be.” Baldur said and lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug.

“Most magicians start small and build on the agreement. Some of the greatest do not need other’s agreement. They know it’s true and so it becomes true. Now, imagine this. There is a great army, more men that you can possibly imagine, lined up on a battlefield. Swords and helmets gleaming in the sun. Hellbent killing and maiming. Then steps out a single man. Dressed all black and mysterious. Carrying a staff with a crystal gleaming in the sunlight. Everyone’s heard about the magicians. There is fear, apprehension. With that much iron-hard conviction, is there anything the magician cannot do?” Baldur said.

“That is magic.” Baldur concluded.

James did not respond. He understood, he knew. The greatest secret was told. He had expected something more, something grand. Not this.

“My turn.” Baldur said, not letting James to wallow in disappointment.

“Answer honestly and truthfully. Will you try to practice magic as I laid it out for you?”

James swallowed and nodded.

“Good!” Baldur explained. He stood up, put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “Farewell, boy. I hope to meet you at some point in the future.” He picked up his staff and left the tavern.

Baldur saddled his horse and patted it on the neck. “Did the boy believe you?” the horse asked, his tail flicking left to right.

“He did. I’ll find him when he is ready.” Baldur got into the saddle, waved his hand from right to left. The mounted figure shimmered and disappeared like it had not been there in the first place.