Tales of Avalor ch. 5

Glimpse of the Future

Somehow Isabel found herself in Mateo’s room in mama Alma’s house. Naturally the new Royal sorcerer had his own workshop at the palace, however, though she was proud mama Alma was still very much a mother that wished to keep an eye on her son, at least occasionally, so the two arranged that while he will do most of his work at the palace since spells can be dangerous and the royal wizard chamber is far better protected than a regular town house, he will come back once in a while to see his mother, eat her cooking and hear some of her advices.

It didn’t mean Mateo was slacking off those days. There were still some Alacazar’s books to read from and he could still brew simple potions on a wooden table he set up years ago when he just began with his journey as a mage.

So now the little princess and the young mage were in his old room putting together lemon balm and peppermint to make a remedy for soothing upset stomach. “Ok, that’s it. Now we have to boil it for twenty minutes,” said the young age to his royal helper.

“Mateo! Please be so kind and bring this pie to Dona Sidonia,” called his mother. She must have forgotten that he has a royal visit. Mateo chuckled sheepishly: “I’ll be back soon, princess. It’s only about ten minutes to Dona Sidonia and back.” “It’s ok, Mateo, I will keep an eye on the potion, I’m sure it won’t be done yet.” “Gracias,” answered Mateo. “I’m coming,” he shouted as he ran to his mother.

Isabel sat on the only chair in the room and took her notebook and pencil in hand. She began doodling the pot on the tiny lab stove and some other jars and a pile of books lying on the table to kill the time before her friend returns. As she was busy scribbling in her journal a chicken feather flew in.

Isabel got up to catch it before it falls into the liquid and ruins the potion but the feather didn’t fall. It floated. Isabel came closer to see what happened and noticed that the feather floats in the steam rising from the pot.

It wasn’t a levitation potion, not that Isabel knew if something like this existed, and even if it was such a potion the feather didn’t came into contact with the liquid. It wasn’t even a jaquin’s feather. Jaquins themselves were magical creatures so it was possible for their feathers to be able to hold themselves in the air longer than a feather of any other bird, mused Isabel.

The more the girl watched the play of the substantial and insubstantial the more fascinating it was. Wind could rotate vanes of a mill or it could rip trees out of the ground, all it depended on was its speed. On the other hand water was able to dig caves into rocks when given enough time. Isabel knew all that from her teachers, books and older relatives. Her own mind went further.

Steam was a combination of water and air - what if those two forces combined can be just as powerful, if not more, as when they are on their own? What if this power could be harvested just as humans were able to make water and wind work for them?

When Mateo returned, she thanked him for showing her how to make the potion but secretly she was happier because of her own “steamy” discovery.

When Isabel returned to the palace she went to the kitchen and put a big pot full of water on the stove. Then genius princess took out the chicken feather she brought from Mateo’s room and, just to be sure, she asked one servant to bring a goose feather.
She observed the water getting warmer and warmer. When it hit the boiling point she could finally see the steam rising. This was the time. Isa reached for the chicken feather and let it float on the barely visible watery smoke. The feather was gently cradled by the steam, just like before. The girl recorded this outcome into her notebook.

When it came to the goose feather Isa hesitated for a few seconds. She held it in her hand afraid of the outcome. If it falls, too heavy even for the steam, it’s over and she will have to find new idea to build upon. Isabel closed her eyes and let the feather go. Then she opened her eyes again. Lo and behold! The feather is gracefully gliding on the steam cloud. The steam was in no way influenced by the potion ingredients, the feather wasn’t held in air by magic, it was the force of nature that kept it from falling down. The princess smiled.

That day’s afternoon has found Isabel in the company of Esteban. He invited her to go on a stroll through the city. Because, as he said, when you can schedule a regular “sister time” why not have a “cousin time” for a change. One that would occur in daytime, that is.

Isabel wanted to brag about her discovery and ideas but wasn’t sure if it isn’t too soon. What if her ideas are ridiculous and Esteban will laugh at her?

“Out with it,” said her cousin out of a sudden. “What,” the girl asked bewildered. Esteban raised an eyebrow which he seemed to do often, noted Isabel. “You’re biting your lower lip, you’re twisting your hair. It’s obvious you have something on your mind. Why do I wonder?” he extended his arms and looked at the sky as if looking for an answer. “You have always something on your mind.”

“Promise, you won’t laugh.” “On my honor as the chancellor of Avalor,” he said with one hand on his heart and the other holding with his palm turned to her like a hero from illustration in old knightly romances. Isabel chuckled and after having calmed down she started: “This morning when Mateo taught me how to brew a lemon balm potion a feather flew into the room and I thought it’s going to fall into the potion but it didn’t! It floated. Because of the steam coming out of the pot. You know how you can make wind or water do things? I think it’s the same with steam. I just don’t know how to do it yet,” she admitted.

“Steam?” the chancellor twisted the end of his goatee thoughtfully. He didn’t question her idea. Isabel proved to be able to create things people usually don’t think about, much less try to construct. If anyone will be able to make steam do its work, it will be her. The real question was whether or not he will be still around to see her finishing that machine.

They stopped at the harbor. They saw fishers mending nets, an old sea dog drinking from a bottle of rum, merchants debating with the captains that they have to sail with the cargo as fast as possible because time is money. They saw huge ships waddling on the water like overstuffed geese and smaller yet deft boats. Ships from faraway lands with colorful flags and wide canvas. The sight of the ships brought an idea to Esteban’s mind.

The duke lifted his younger cousin on a box so that she could see far and wide, he leaned to her and pointed at the ships disappearing at the horizon: “When I was a boy, Alacazar showed me a spell that let him control the wind. He ordered a gust of wind to blow directly at the sails which made the ship go faster. That spell lasted only a short time, such spells always do. It has something to do with limits of the human beings when it comes to manipulating nature. Ask Mateo, he will know more about it.”

“However,” he elaborated, “if you do manage to build something that would direct a constant stream of wind, or steam, on a ship’s canvas making the ship go faster without the need of manual labor and it could be controlled somehow, you will become greater than the old wizard himself. No mean feat at your age,” he playfully flicked Isa’s nose making the girl giggle.

Isabel’s heart skipped a beat at the mere thought that she could possible create an invention that might help science surpass magic. Could she though? She did invent a new music instrument and a wardrobe that changes the clothes for you but those looked like toys to her now. To construct the steam power enhancer, as she began to call it in her mind, was a daunting task. One that may take years. Isabel wasn’t sure if she can succeed but she was willing to try.

“Thanks for the suggestion, Esteban!” said Isabel full of excitement after being put on ground level again. “De nada,” he answered with a slightly amused smile. Secretly he enjoyed this moment of adoration from her side. When she comes of age, he won’t be able to impress her so easily.