The Magical Wand

"Ah...these poor kids" he muffled while picking out chips from the packet and throwing them straight into his mouth and chewing it slowly, enjoying its crunchie sound.

His eyes were darted to the open window exposing him to the outside view. Two kids suited in black t-shirts and white shorts were playing baseball in the middle of the road on the right side of his house.

"Playing baseball on the roads, what if a mad driver rushed his truck into them." He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders and averted his eyes towards the TV screen fit on the wall in front of him.

He slid his ass down on the couch and eased his body to enjoy the Pollo match being played on TV.

As he circled his thumb on the power button of the remote, his eyes continuously traveled back and forth to the outside view and on the TV.

His eyes were hooked to the screen when the umpire announced the tie between both the player and suddenly, he heard a noise lacerated with the sounds of crashing glass.

It took his mind solid two minutes to recognize from where the sound came, and he halted on his couch and headed towards the window.

The kids who had been playing outside moments ago weren't there, the road was empty. He pursed his lips, twisted round, and ran.

He pushed the door open with his full force, his feet got stuck at the door just as there was mud laid there so he couldn't get in there.

The glass was splintered on the floor, making a perfect circle shape hole in the window.

His mouth agape as he could not be able to process for some time what had just happened.

He walked over the pieces of glass crushing them more underneath his weight and reached the window.

As he leaned forward to inspect the damage, his orbs caught sight of a wooden box laid near the corner of the room. Asher immediately moved towards it.

As soon as he put it under the light coming in through the window, he recognized it, and in an instant the mystery of the broken-window-incident solved.

A flicker of pride crossed his eyes as he smirked his lips while casting his red orbs intently on the carved images of the box.

"I knew it. You will not disappoint me. After all, I'm your son." He whispered as his lips wider into a full smile.

He laid his hand on the carved head of the wolf on the lid of the box and kissed it.

He forgot about cleaning the pieces of glass still being crushed under his feet and he moved towards his bed and sat down.

His heart was pounding wildly like a horse who has just won the Pollo match and was now being rewarded with the best trophy one could ever wish for.

With the slightest movement of his thumb over the head, he slid aside the wooden wolf head, lunged forward, and placed his left eye right on top of the spot.

As soon as he fixated his eye on the eyesight detective security lock, the box clicked open.

He pulled his upper body back in its position and flipped the lid backward.

A shaft of green light emerged through it and blinded him for some time as he immediately pulled his hand on his eyes to resist its intensity.

After a while when the light dimmed, he removed his hand from his eyes. There was a paper rolled with a red stripe around it and an old wobbled wooden stick with an eye engraved on its top.

He ran his fingers on the stick and picked out the paper as he pulled off the strip, it rolled down to his knees.

The first two paragraphs stated to him about the deal and the rest was twenty points dictating the instructions on how to use the stick.

Asher read them all, carefully understanding each point, he memorized almost all the points to avoid the risk of forgetting any one of them during the procedure.

A tiny sigh escaped his lips as he rolled up the paper and put it back in the box, his heart was racing wild, pearls of sweat popped up on his forehead and sluiced all the way down to his chin and dripped down on his flooded thighs.

He was nervous and scared and excited about this at the same time. He took a deep breath and inhaled all the air out of the room in his lungs, and hold it in there for some time, as he exhaled it out, he let out all his nervousness with it, and with a relaxed and calm mind, he stretched his hand towards the box once again.

It was their ancestral wand that had been used by his grandfathers only when they need to put back the soul of their enemies to figure out their plans or use their bodies to instigate their plans of spying.

He knew the worth of that magic wand that always had been used for greater purposes. His purpose might seem low to his father right now as he had mentioned in the first two paragraphs, but Asher was sure his purpose would be no less than the one of his grandfathers.

It would bring a revolution in history.

He curled his finger around its delicate body and gripped it lightly because he was afraid of doing any kind of damage to it even by mistake.

With great care, he brought it up to his eyes and eyed it thoroughly.

A devilish smirk appeared on his face as he bolted up from his bed and headed out.

The room was soaked in complete darkness and the stingy smell of rotten flesh and blood.

He reached near the bodies and propped their heads straight up towards the ceiling as he outstretched his arm and directed the eye of the wand towards them.

His eyes were shut as his lips synced some mantras in a low whisper that did not even reach to his ears.

After a while of his continuing chanting of mantra, a white blinding light lifted down on the bodies as a mini-tornado occurred in the room.

He continued chanting it, the bed started to shake terribly, the frames on the walls fell down and their glass crashed on the floor as it splintered all around the room, the chairs clanked into each other, and the door flipped open with a thrusting sound.

Asher opened his eyes to the sound of the coughing the man. He was alive, amazed, and perplexed; the man ran his hand on his face and asked in a flat tone though the high-pitched voice had been replaced by a more subtle tone the man seemed perfectly fine and fit for his age. Nobody could judge from his appearance that this man had been dead for several days as his rotten flesh become fresh and lively.

"Where am I?"

"Who am I?"

"And who are you?"

Asher didn't answer any of his questions but moved towards the woman who had a long scar on his forehead running all the way down to her cheek. He picked on her chin and propped it up, she gave him a bewildered shot and asked the same question the man had before her in a tone subtler than his.

An air of success and pride passed through his body and he let out a loud laugh. The couple looked at him with their mouth gaped and eyes filled with lots and lots of questions about their existence and his.

Rejoicing his victory, he leaned forward and spoke in a triumphant tone.

"You-", he pointed at the man with his index finger, "are my dearest father and I am your son."

Running his finger on the scar of the woman, "You're my mother." And he winked at her.