The Staff of Dreams

Deep in the secluded Hoia-Baciu Forest in the heart of Romania, Victor shivered in the twilight. The forest was one of the most renowned, dark, and dangerous places in the world; even the ignorant muggles avoided the area like the plague. Wizards knew little of the profound magic that permeated the wood of that realm and those who tried to understand its meaning tended to either lose themselves or their minds. Something ominous and sinister transformed the forest in ages past and Victor was always uncomfortable with the fact that his master chose this dark place to meet. Removing the silver gloves that had protected him inside Hogwarts, Victor turned toward his partner, who was sitting several feet away from him leaning against a tree. Once more he found himself comparing his stature to that of his partner.

Victor was short and a little round in the midsection, much like a pear. He once had thick, brown hair, but all that remained after many weary years were a few flecks of gray in the middle of his now bald head. His green eyes were still sharp, but that seemed little compensation for the other things he’d lost to his youth. Samael, on the other hand, was clearly a strong, confident man. Even though he was in his forties his hair was still a deep brown and hadn’t gone gray. He was in far better physical condition than Victor had ever been, even in his youth.

Victor hated that his master seemed to favor this man, but he could grudgingly understand why he was moved up through the ranks faster than most others. Not only was he more useful because of his looks, he was strong in magic, had a wide understanding of magical artifacts, and could talk his way into almost any secured facility. One of the favorite stories to recall around the camp was when Samael had talked his way past the goblins at Gringott’s to get the same mystical silver gloves out of one of the most guarded vaults in the tunnels down below. No one knew they had been stolen because the owner refused to acknowledge that they were missing as they were illegal to have, and the goblins had hushed up the act because it showed their weaknesses to the public and they wanted their bank to remain seemingly impenetrable. Only one other person had ever managed to work their way into the wizarding bank, and he had been assisted by the famed Lord Voldemort.

“That was a little too close for comfort.” Victor huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow and sitting opposite his partner in crime. Samael raised his brow at the comment but chose not to pursue the conversation. The silence of the forest began to settle on Victor’s nerves and he fidgeted uncomfortably. “Were you able to get the books the Master asked for?” Samael’s facial features remained unresponsive though he gave a curt nod. Once more the silence pressed upon them and Victor squirmed awkwardly, playing with the silver gloves in his hands. “Remember when we picked these up?” He asked, not expecting a response. “Those were some crazy times back then.”

“You really can’t stand it, can you?” Samael’s voice cut through the darkness, laughing lightly at his partner’s inability to sit still in the dense silence of the forest.

“You know how I hate this place.” Victor climbed back to his feet and began pacing again.

Samael smirked and closed his eyes, his face serene. “You’ve been here for ten years. You’d think you’d be used to it by now.” Victor glared at him but chose not to ignore his jab.

Samael watched Victor through barely opened eyes. The master had placed him with Victor as his partner nearly five years ago and he was, safe to say, incredibly sick of the man. Victor had been happy to be paired with Samael in the beginning; it was a sign of the Master’s trust in him that he would pair him with one of his most trusted Retrievers. That excitement annoyed Samael more than any amount of disinterest could have.

Victor was a few years younger than Samael, but had let himself go to seed as the years progressed. He was slow witted and could not be counted on to have any kind of knowledge regarding the strange, magical items they were often sent to obtain. To boot, he was just a lousy conversationalist. One of the main reasons Samael had joined the Gwydion was for their reliance on knowledge in deep magic and having to spend five years with the stuttering, sweating buffoon before him had definitely made him reevaluate his original love for the sect.

Atius founded the Gwydion sect nearly forty years prior and had been finding angry, bitter people to help him in his quest to destroy magic completely. In the beginning, he was only able to convince talentless lumps like Victor to join his cause, who could barely find the right end of a wand. They had been easy to convince because the magical community had turned their back on them, much as they would muggles or squibs. Wizards really were an arrogant race as a whole. In their quest to destroy the very thing that brought them life, magic would be a tool, so Atius took these plebes under his wing, teaching them all he knew so that they would finally be useful to him.

After seeing how much time and effort he needed to teach these inadequate squibs even the most rudimentary spells, he began looking for wizards who had proven skills and knowledge. It hadn’t taken him long to isolate Samael, the broken, angry, bitter child who had lost his family because of their thirst for knowledge of magical artifacts and trust in the wrong wizards. Wanting to know more about how and why they had been killed, Samael dove into wizard lore, looking for the oldest, strangest, most dangerous artifacts he could, and it was that knowledge that brought him to Atius’ attention. The silver gloves were one of the many things he’d uncovered through the years.

Samael had kept his ear to the ground for signs of magical artifacts that were of interest to him, but to support his living, he was known throughout the criminal world as one of the best Retrievers in the business. No matter where an artifact was or how it was protected, he would find a way to get it. Atius approached him regarding the Gloves of Goliath, silver gloves that when worn, would make the wearer impervious to magic. They made the wearer a black hole for insubstantial waves of sound, light, and spells, even air, and making them appear as an endless blackness.

Samael did not ask why he wanted the gloves, Atius did not bother to say much on the subject except for the amount of money he would be willing to pay; enough to support his hobby for over a year. Talking his way past the goblins had been easy, convincing them to willingly drive the cart to the high-security vault without triggering an alarm was almost laughable. The gloves were goblin made and goblins were notorious for wanting their long lost objects for themselves. Opening the vault was ridiculously simple, a few well-chosen words and some tools that he had picked up elsewhere made their security seem childish.

Disappearing without being caught by the goblins or the owner of the vault took a bit more skill, but Samael had a knack for disappearing. Victor had been his contact for Atius at the time and he enjoyed the idea that he had a hand in the amazing acts that Samael had performed on his own. Samael let him think what he wanted. Everyone that mattered knew the truth and Samael didn’t care much what the others thought of him. After passing the gloves on to Victor he thought he was finished, but a surprise visitor a few days later convinced him otherwise.

Atius had come to him in person and showed him everything that was in his own heart and how it could all be eased if magic would be eradicated and cause no harm to other families. How could Samael refuse that? So now, five years later, he was in a dark, sinister forest in Romania, listening to the continuous disgruntled complaints of a sub-par wizard who could only survive on the talent of better men.

A long line of cursing suddenly came from behind a tree. Sighing, Samael got up and found Victor, “What’s wrong now?” he demanded.

Victor held the gloves out to him with a shaking hand. “They’re ruined.” He said, his face pale as the realization of the situation hit him.

Samael looked at him sharply before inspecting the gloves himself. On each of the fingers of one hand, pieces of silver were missing. “What did you do to them?” he demanded angrily. “Master is going to vaporize you.” It was not a threat, but a fact. Of the many items Atius had acquired with Samael’s help, the gloves were one of his most prized favorites.

“What can we do? How can we fix it?” Victor asked, his eyes pleading for his life.

Samael shrugged and pocketed the gloves, “I never should have let you wear them.” He sighed, angry with himself. “I knew you should have stayed behind.”

Victor’s chest puffed out defensively, “You couldn’t have done it on your own!” He demanded. “You couldn’t have looked for the key and the books at the same time!”

“And did you find the key?” Samael demanded, his voice rising in anger. Victor quickly shrunk at the tone. “That was the main reason we were there and you couldn’t even accomplish that well enough, could you?” He spat in disgust.

“What are we going to do?” Victor asked in a quavering voice.

“We are going to tell Master the truth. You did not find the key and you destroyed the gloves. You were even responsible for the death of that bookkeeper at the library! All we had to do was sneak in, steal some books, and leave unnoticed.”

“He was asking too many questions!” Victor insisted, “And we got the books anyway, right?”

“Yes and had to destroy a whole building, hundreds of years of unique books, just to cover up your shortcomings!” Shame momentarily passed across Victor’s features before returning to anger. “When we’ve finished with the Staff of Dreams, I’m done with you. Atius can either find me someone else willingly or find you mysteriously dead at the edge of the forest. Either way, I’m finished.”

“Finished so soon, Samael?” A silky voice said from behind them. Both faces paled as they turned and bowed to their master. “How disappointing.” Atius was a tall man who towered above the two wizards and his ice blue eyes reminded Samael of how cold the man could become.

“I’m so sorry, Master!” Victor fell prostrate before Atius, tears freely streaming from his eyes as he began the plea for his life.

Ignoring the weeping man at his feet, Atius turned to Samael, who kept his head down while the Master surveyed the situation. “What has happened?” he demanded.

“I retrieved the books you sent me for, Master.” Samael said evenly, keeping all emotion from his voice. He pulled a small satchel out of his cloak and handed it over to Atius. “There was very little trouble in retrieving either set.”

Atius looked at him with a raised brow but chose not to dig deeper at the moment. Turning to the cowering man before him he asked, “And the key?” Victor began to cry harder, his body nearly convulsing from fear. Atius kicked him in the ribs, “Where is the key?” he demanded, his voice growing shorter and his temper flaring.

“It was not there, Master!” Victor wheezed. “I searched the girl’s office from top to bottom and it was nowhere to be found!”

“Did you search for it, Samael?” Atius asked, his voice deadly in its softness. It was worse than the yelling; it was colder.

“I didn’t have the time, Master.” He said simply, keeping his face passive. “I was found in the library and pursued.”

“Who pursued you?” Samael’s jaw clenched against his will as he remembered the face of the woman who chased him down the hall. Atius smiled cruelly, “Ah, so you see that I told you the truth that you so denied. Your sister still lives.”

“Yes, Master.”

“She abandoned you once when only a babe and now she tries to kill you so you may never find peace in this world or the next; such a strong family dynamic you have.” He said with a malicious smirk. Samael refused to meet Atius’ gaze. He had seen that his sister did, in fact, live and he knew now that Atius had one more thing to hold over his head though he doubted Malicia’s allegiance. She had only been a baby, her choices had been slim. It was him who had abandoned her, though he didn’t share his thoughts with Atius and kept them clear from his eyes that would surely betray him. “Have you had any more dreams?”

“No, Master. Just the one last month.” He answered honestly.

“Why is it taking so long?” Atius demanded impatiently.

Samael shrugged, “The path to the Staff of Dreams is unique and cannot be tampered with or predicted.” He explained for, what felt like, the hundredth time. “I have no control over when the dreams may occur, just as I cannot control how often they occur or what transpires within them. There is a specific set of time and events that must transpire before you can proceed further down the path. Helga Huffelpuff knew what she was doing when she protected the staff. Despite how history has defamed her into being an average witch, she was far cleverer than credited.”

“I wonder if you’re telling me the truth.” Atius turned away from his subordinates and walked confidently through the barren area at the center of the forest. The muggles believed the spot to be a portal to the afterlife where spirits gathered and traveled from one realm to the other and often cursed the living who had entered the place. What had made the perfectly circular clearing barren was a mystery. There was a natural energy about the place and it filled Atius with glee to dwell within it. He had proclaimed on more than one occasion to be one with the forest and the perfect circle formed within it where nothing grew.

Victor was still quivering on the ground, his knees weak and his body shaken. Why wasn’t his master acknowledging him?

“Please, please spare me…”

Still being ignored, Atius continued to address Samael, rather than the sniveling man on the ground in front of him. Samael was one of his brightest wizards he’d met and he’d found that often times, the more intelligent required more convincing of their motives. Those with intelligence and motives were harder to control than those searching for purpose and importance in their lives. While Victor was clearly trying to fill the void in his self confidence, Samael had plenty to spare and was determined to uncover the mysteries surrounding his family.

The fact that his sister was indeed alive and was even playing their game was trouble and Atius could see it brewing behind Samael’s pale blue eyes despite his attempts to hide it. The man was unsure if what his master had said was true. Often times, Atius would use manipulation to his aid and he knew Samael would be no different than others he’d bent to his whim.

“What reason would I have to lie to you?” Samael would be a fool if he didn’t fear Atius and his plans for the future of the world, but Samael knew Atius would be a fool to fully trust him as well. Samael had always worked for no one other than himself for a good chunk of his life and in the end, it was a hard habit to break without the proper incentive.

“You are curious, ever curious… about the death of your parents.”

“You know I am, that has never been a secret.” Samael stood his ground but avoided glancing at the dark figure. Something about Atius had always unnerved him and that time was no exception to the rule.

“Don’t forget why you joined my ranks, Samael.” Atius turned around, something in his hand. It was a necklace, and Samael’s eyes were drawn right to it. He recognized it immediately but it stung to see it again.

“I haven’t forgotten and I haven’t been lying.”

“You joined me because of how magic destroyed your family.” Atius ignored Samael’s objection and held up the open locket that had once belonged to Samael’s mother. He’d taken it off of her after she’d died and kept it so he would never forget what had happened. Samael didn’t respond and waited to see where his master was going with this.

It was true that Samael had joined him for that reason. It made sense to him and comforted him when words wouldn’t. A world without magic would keep people from doing harmful things with it. No one would die due to magic, but it also meant no lives would be saved with it. And what Atius had said about Malicia hadn’t been true. He’d been the one to abandon his sister, having thought her dead. She’d gone into foster care because she’d been too young to fend for herself but he’d run off with thoughts of revenge in his heart. Had he even checked to see if she was breathing, or crying, or perhaps hiding that night? It hadn’t mattered to him what had become of Malicia because he had been foolish and callous in his decisions.

Did Atius somehow know about the guilt he felt boiling within the pit of his stomach? Samael had spent his life on the wrong side of magical law but it didn’t mean he didn’t have a soul. What if the things he thought he knew were a lie? Would it change his path? What if he did still have family left in Malicia? Clearly she had survived quite well despite having lived through the same thing he had gone through. It was a tricky situation.

“Magic is evil.”

“Magic is a tool.” Samael immediately responded. Victor gasped in surprise at the objection. Then again, if the master was angry with Samael perhaps his own shortcomings would be overlooked so inwardly Victor rejoiced. “Magic is a tool to be used by evil men for evil deeds and equally by good men to do good deeds.”

Much to both men’s surprise, Atius chuckled. “You are ever the revelation, Samael.” Samael didn’t look amused nor did he look apprehensive. “You are right. Magic is a tool for evil men to do evil things with. But we cannot put a stop to the existence of evil men so why not take away the tools they use? Magic, like any other power, corrupts the mind with delusions of grandeur. It corrupts the soul and fills one with the need to destroy and belittle. Magic, ultimately, creates evil men and empowers them, don’t you see? Without magic, evil men are as weak as a good man.”

“I have seen it, I cannot deny that.” Samael nodded and hung his head. “As I told you though, I have not been deceitful with you on any aspect of our tale. I retrieved the books you wanted from Hogwarts library but I did not find anything of note within their pages.” Samael continued on before Victor could try to talk over him. “There is nothing about the staff and there is nothing about what to do in our situation. I think that’s by design.”

“Wizards are arrogant, Samael.” With the speed of a man much younger than him, Atius approached Samael and grabbed him by the throat. “They wish for all to know of their great deeds. Somewhere there is record of how to deal with this staff and the path it has led you and Victor upon. Though perhaps I do regret sending Victor to be your aid for these tasks. You are right, he is unfit.” Atius glanced at the pitiful Victor who was cowering again and keeping his head down while muttering pleas for his life. He was convinced that if he perhaps laid low he would never be the main focus of Atius’ anger. It was simple luck that Atius seemed more concerned with Samael than with him, considering he had been the one that had failed to retrieve the key from that witch’s room, had destroyed one of Atius’ most prized possessions and had nearly gotten them caught within Hogwarts.

“I will do whatever my master asks of me…” With a simple wave of his hand, Victor’s tongue suddenly seemed too big for his mouth. It grew and grew until it started to block his airways. Victor collapsed back onto his knees and grabbed at his mouth, but his tongue was too big to pass through his lips. On the ground he writhed and Atius ignored his struggles and mumbled pleas. Samael glanced sideways for but a second before returning his gaze to his master.

“You have done less than what was required of you, Victor. I should let you suffocate on your own tongue but that would be too great a misfortune even for you. You should be honored to be in my presence and instead you blather about forgiveness. This task you are set upon is greater than you and your many failures. If you do not learn when to silence your tongue you may lose it.” Atius waved his hand and Victor coughed and gagged for air as his tongue returned to its normal size.

“Thank you… thank you master,” Victor groveled on his knees and scooted backwards in the dirt, closer to the edge of the forest. He did not want to be in the forest any longer, but he didn’t want to incur any further wrath from it either. Besides, he wasn’t sure which was worse: being within the forest, or within the circular portal in the center of it.

“Do not mistake necessity for kindness, Victor. You are on this path with Samael and killing you would not suit either of us.” Atius’ cold gaze sent shivers down Samael’s spine when it returned to him. “We will continue searching, but perhaps what we seek is not within books or kept on scrolls. Perhaps it’s time to ask those who may know of its history. Your sister, right? Surely she is as curious about it as you are.”

“My sister will be no part of this, master. There is nothing she knows that I do not.” Samael knew that his sister had to be the other one pursuing the Staff of Dreams and it was likely that Atius knew it as well. It was an obvious connection and while neither had admitted it to the other, they both knew the truth.

“Touchy subject, isn’t she?” Atius mouth twisted into a grin.

“Her being alive changes nothing in my life.” Samael nodded resolutely. “We will keep looking for information at your behest but I do not think we are going to find what you are hoping we will find. There are no written words about the path to this weapon! It is designed that I will find the staff through my dreams and it is up to your poor choice of a partner for me to retrieve the keys that will unlock it.” Samael stood his ground. Sometimes he was unsure how he did it when such a menacing present hovered in front of him. There was something terrible and great about Atius that made him want to drop to his knees and pray. It was irrational, but there in the back of his mind nonetheless.

“You’re right. Victor must try harder and we must slow down those that are ahead of us.” Atius backed away from Samael and held out his hand, summoning something close. One of the many lights that supposedly haunted the forest flew into his hand. Victor got the chills and turned away. Every so often, phantom lights bobbed through the trees, like the ghosts that roamed the woods were holding lanterns to guide their way. Atius had become one with the magic of the haunted forest and this only made him more menacing.

“I agree. We will not fail.” Samael said with the same charming confidence that had brought him into Atius’ good graces in the first place. It was a family trait, he thought, to be overly confident about what he was good at. He recalled how his father had been the same sort of mischievous troublemaker that he’d grown up to be.

“Don’t forget your purpose, Samael. Keep it clear in your mind and your heart. The staff must be ours and you must succeed. Don’t let that little witch get in your way. She never looked for you. She never thought twice about you. You don’t owe her anything.” Atius pressed on.

“I know that.” Samael lied to his master’s face and to himself. He didn’t owe her anything, did he? Then again she was the only family he had. On the same line of thinking he hadn’t had any family until earlier that day. It was very confusing for him but he wouldn’t let it show. Another one of Samael’s skills was his ability to mask what was in his mind. Even Atius couldn’t get a clear read on him when he tried hard enough and that is why he was guessing he was getting a lecture instead of Victor for his failure.

“I expect that the next time you have a dream, Victor shall do what he was asked to do. If not, the consequences will be dire.”

“Don’t you worry, master, our mission will be accomplished.” Victor sounded as hopeful and confident as Samael had only moments before but there was something about the way that he said it that made it sound snaky and unsavory. No matter how hard he tried, Victor couldn’t be as calm and collected as his partner.

“Being on Samael’s quest is a gift, Victor.” Atius turned his attention to Samael’s lesser half and Samael was relieved. He stepped further away from his master and further into the circle. While the Romanian forest made him feel unsettled, he guessed this was by design so he had never let it get to him. The circle of light that Atius had summoned was dancing around him now, hovering like the source of the light couldn’t stand still with excitement.

What if Malicia and her little witch friend got to the Staff before he and Victor did? What would Atius do to the women if he didn’t retrieve it? Surely it would be nothing short of horrible and this only strengthened Samael’s resolve. He would continue through the dreams and if Victor didn’t start retrieving the keys he’d go from there.

“You should be preparing yourself at every second to go through the trials that are required of you and instead you grovel before me like a peasant?” Victor muttered his apologies and hunched over while Atius scolded him. He’d thought he was out of danger when Samael had become the target of Atius’ anger and curiosity but had been wrong.

Samael continued to drift, staring at the stars overhead. Having his sister alive had changed much more than he let on. He’d dreamt of his family for all of his many years and what his life would be like if they hadn’t died and now he realized that they hadn’t all died. That was why he had slashed that picture. He wanted to let Malicia know he was alive and still around. Had his parents recognized him in the portrait? He could only imagine that they would recognize their very own son, no matter the age.

“Trust me if you were not required for the staff and we had time to restart the path to it then you would be dead on the ground before you had landed in the forest. You are watched, Victor. You are never alone. I am everywhere and you should be wary.”

“I am… I mean I-I know you are everywhere, master. Forgive me for I am not worthy of you.”

“You are right about that, at least.” Atius finally stepped away, dismissing the light of the forest. The air was heavy, the clouds gathered overhead menacingly and blocked out the stars that Samael seemed to be contemplating. “Continue your search for information but this time try not to burn down any libraries, will you? And do your best to murder in quiet and secret rather than so blatant. You’ve made quite the mess for me to handle you know.”

“Don’t worry, master. We’ll be more careful.” Samael turned his gaze from the heavens and back toward the cloaked figure that was gazing through him.

“You are always careful, Samael that is why I hired you in the first place. Victor on the other hand is less careful and less patient. I would practice both those things if you don’t want to lose your head when the path has been completed.” Atius started to disappear through the trees. “Now if you excuse me, I have a rather important meeting in the morning and you two have already kept me far later than I would have liked and have upset me with your failures.”

“Our apologies.” Samael hung his head in respect, but his mind was still racing with thoughts of family and confusion on the matter. As much as he repeated in his mind that he should think nothing of the lost kin that he’d located on his mission, he couldn’t truly convince himself that it should be forgotten and ignored. The witch was a stranger as far as he knew and she should be treated as such. But the nagging doubt in his mind continued to eat at him.

As Atius disappeared into the shadows as he often did, drops of warm and unsettling rain dripped from the clouds above, starting at a slow drizzling pace and quickly turning into a downpour. Walking out of the circle and through the trees, Samael walked past Victor who quickly moved to catch up with him.

“Wait up, Sam you’re going too fast!” Victor stumbled through the branches and brush of the forest to keep up and nearly fell on his backside when Samael turned quickly on his heels to face him.

“My name is Samael and I suggest you watch your tone. Atius was easy on you tonight but it doesn’t mean I will be. You need to find your focus and stop screwing up. The next toe you put out of line will be your last.” Samael’s wand was out and pointed at the smaller heavyset man before he’d realized he’d done it.

Victor stumbled backwards in realization that Samael was far angrier at him than he’d thought. Nodding his head quickly, Victor stuttered in response and held his hands up defensively.

“You need me, you can’t…”

“I need no one, particularly a useless blathering twit like you.” Samael held his head up high. “But it is what master requires so I will make use of you until I can no longer control my frustrations.”

“I…oh… Sam, I mean… Samael…” Victor stuttered, completely at a loss for words.

“Stay close and keep your trap shut.” Samael muttered under his breath and continued through the forest, preparing to find his way home to get some proper rest. He’d take a second look at the stolen books that night and make note of anything that they could further pursue for information. Hopefully when the next dream came, and he had a feeling it’d be sooner rather than later, Victor wouldn’t fail them.