Wizard legend has it that the most powerful wiz’ who ever lived turned himself into a rock 10,000 years ago. No one remembers his name and so history has dubbed him the Rock Wizard. He was powerful- the most powerful wizard ever if the stories are to be believed. One story tells how Rock (his nickname around modern mages, I learned) turned a mouse into a mammoth so that a village could survive a terrible winter. Another legend had him transform a child’s toy boat into a massive ship. Still another had him saving a kingdom (or whatever existed in place of those 10,000 years ago) by taking a handful of dirt and tossing it high into the air over the enemy where each grain “swelled into a boulder and crushed the army beneath it” (Merlin, Myths in Magic).
But the most famous story about Rock isn’t about his heroism, but about the greatest blunder he ever made. Here is that tale as exactly as I can retell it.
One day a very powerful magician was hiking through the mountains. He was alone and enjoying the company of his own impressively deep thoughts. He considered his immense repertoire of spells. He mused about his most recent heroic deeds. He thought it very funny that such a powerful magician would choose to hike when he could easily turn himself into, say, a mighty dragon, or, a storm cloud and reach his destination in minutes.
But he kept hiking. It would make a good story later, he decided. He started talking to himself. He was imitating his fellow magicians.
“Not only is he the strongest of mages and the most powerful and adept spell weaver in the world, he is also immensely humble. Just the other day he hiked like a common person for several miles! Oh yes, very impressive!”
He pursed his lips and whistled a jaunty tune. A spring came into his step.
“Such a swell guy,” he continued. He plucked a rock from the ground and tossed it. “Presto!” he shouted and with a flick of his forefinger the rock morphed into an eagle. The rock-turned-eagle seemed surprised as only a rock could, but it soon understood its new role as a bird, squawked once, and flapped away.
He marveled at such a complicated spell done well. His stomach growled.
“Time for lunch!” He howled. He looked around for another rock. When he found one suitable enough he pointed at it and said “Zap!” and suddenly there was a chicken dinner, still hot, sizzling at his feet.
He munched contentedly for some time.
A jackal came when he was just about done. The sun glared directly above. The only sounds (other than the magician chewing) was the clicking of the jackals nails on the rock ground and deep menacing growl.
“You know,” said the magician. “I was having such a good time alone with myself.” He got up, standing directly over his chicken bones. There was not much meat left. He placed his hands on his hips. The jackal growled.
“Ho ho!” he laughed and then declared: “I am the greatest magician who has ever or will ever walk this earth.” He gesticulated at random. A pebble sprouted into a flower, a stone grew into a poplar tree.
“I have destroyed armies, anointed kings, devised the most cunning of spells.” Rocks everywhere along the path hopped and spun and shrieked. Some flew, others ran. The jackal only snarled fiercer.
The magician spoke softer now. “I am known for turning the small into the large. But for you, jackal, you I shall go the other way with a muttered ka-zam!”
The jackal bolted for his heart. He laughed and pointed at his face. “I, the great magician named-” POOF
A rock clattered to the ground where the magician had been standing. The jackal skidded to a stop. It sniffed the air. The man was gone.
What was left of the chicken dinner probably tasted delicious. The jackal devoured the remains and then trotted away.
But the magician-as-rock stayed. He was unable to revert himself. Without another magician to help him turn back, he remained as a rock. Just a rock with no fingers or language to use magic. No eyes to see the world or ears to hear it. Just a rock. It is generally accepted that in the blankness of his existence he most likely would come to accept his blunder. No one really knows though. If he really existed and the story is true then there is a possibility that he is still out there, alone. But, the story does not end there. Only two years later another legend says that he encountered a very special visitor:
It blinked. The tree was new, its raptor mind decided. At long last the winds had brought it back to this familiar mountain path. The eagle waddled forward but its talon struck a rock. Pain. The eagle squawked in surprise, then paused. It stared at the rock, hard.
Nothing happened. Its mind slowly turned to food and helpless prey. The eagle spread its wings and launched into the sky.
And in one taloned claw, the rock was firmly clenched.
After finding this story I was alarmed to realize that the door stopper in my room was a rock which could have been found anywhere. I was uneasy about asking a wizard, but, with great reluctance, approached one and asked if maybe my doorstopper could be the Rock Wizard.
Like all the others his hood was pulled too far down to see his face. He just stood there for a moment before he smoothly turned around. I overheard heard him muttering as he limped away.
THE END
SWF 
Leave a comment