oracle和orecol,Orecol Academy of Sorcery- DISCONTINUED

Up on the western side of the sky the sun was setting, graciously allowing the warm desert town to cool off while performing a blazing red sunset for the residents. On the eastern side of the sky the great yellow moon was elevating itself above the spiked trees, casting an eerie glow on everything it shined upon. As one gazes around one would see a plethora of houses, all different shades of tan, peach, and brown. The closer west one went the less houses one would see, until one reached a house under a mountain, a big peach colored house with a rusted white gate separating it from the rest of the desert. A lone Joshua tree took up the front of the house, with the rest of the lot being dry dirt and a plain silver car.

Outside of the white gate, on the barely paved road, three teenage boys walked around looking mischievous. As they passed the softly lit peach house they paused, one of them grinning widely.

"This is where that weird family lives. The ones who make voodoo dolls and use sticks like they can make spells." One of the boys said as the other two laughed. They neared the house, uncaringly crossing the open white gate.

From inside the house, through the glass in the front door, watched a small boy, about 7 years old. He knew who those boys were, and he knew how reckless and disrespectful they could be. He hated them.

"Mom." The little boy said out loud, but no one answered back. "Mom, there's mean kids outside".

"They'll leave us alone in a bit, hun." A woman's voice reassured from afar. The little boy was still scared, and he knew he should do something if his parent's wouldn't. He slowly crept over to the nearby table and picked up a long wooden stick. With no idea how to use it he opened the door and walked out, ready to face his three assailants. He pointed the stick at them and was greeted with snide laughing.

"You're pointing your magic stick at us freak?" The kid in the front jeered. "You're gonna put one of them curses on us?" The boy with the stick stood his ground and pointed it firmly at them, but losing hope because no bright flash was coming out of the tip, like it usually did whenever his parents used it. He filled his mind with hatred and wished death on the three teenagers, and almost miraculously the tip of the stick began to emit a faint serpentine-green glow. The three teenage boys backed away cautiously, genuine fear on their faces. The boy with the stick smiled, walking until he made the three boys cross the gate again.

"How are you doing that?" The teenager who had been jeering asked, the green glow illuminating the fear in his eyes as the sun continued to set. As the boy brandished the stick he felt the ground below him rumble, and a wave of fear washed over him. "Whatever you're doin you better stop, or we're telling everyone you're a filthy witch."

In a bright flash of green the jeering boy fell to the ground, a glazed look on his eyes and his body void of any life. The two remaining boys, paralyzed with fear, were unable to move in any way, and instead just gaped at the dead body between them and at the panicking child with the wand.

"Mom!" The young boy desperately called out as he tried to release the wand, but it was like the wand had an iron-strong hold on him, like it was refusing to let the boy go. The green glow continued to expand, and the young boy could feel the power growing in his hands as he heard his parents running up behind him, screaming for him to drop the wand.

But then something tragic happened. At the height of the boy's panic, as the ground shook and the dirt seemed to float upwards, the wand released all of the power it had been building up in a circular wave of green wind, propelling the young boy several feet backwards. The sound of the wand clattering on the floor was met by a booming symphony of bodies hitting the ground. The boy fell with his eyes shut out of fear, and remained on the ground longer than was necessary. As he got up he slowly opened his eyes, and as he looked up he saw five dead bodies around him, all with a glazed look on their eyes. The dust settled and the boy sobbed softly, not yet old enough to understand he would never see his parents again. The tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision, but he out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving to his left. He turned to see what it was, but then everything went blank. He stared into a bright white light, and all of his pain and sense of feeling, and even his memory of what had just happened mere seconds ago, floated softly in the wind, following the dust towards the setting sun.