Amphibian

As a Magician, Samuel Klaus Meriwether, was prone to odd behavior, although staring at frogs for strenuous time periods was not a behavior he could claim regular.  Klaus was uncertain, yet he believed it a reasonable deduction that frogs were not supposed to talk. They lacked the correct anatomy to create speech, and they most definitely did not talk to people who were exiting their bathing pools.

He continued to shoot eyeball arrows at the green amphibious mass, as he reached for a towel hanging on the tree branch. Amphibians, while not a baneful existence, were not a pleasant one either. Klaus held onto the belief that there were only two uses for frogs; hexes and stews. A frog that could talk back while being broiled to death was a problem. One that Klaus did not want to confront anytime in the near future. So, he began his morning by ignoring the frog.

“Excuse me, milord,” the frog spoke, “Are you the Wizard that lives in these enchanted woods?”

He knew that it was not meant to be an insulting comment but Klaus could not but help to find the frog’s lack of knowledge astounding. Wizards and Magicians were as fundamentally different as the sun and the earth. Klaus looked past the frog and grabbed his amber towel. Drying off his fishy pale skin, he began to saunter back to the house. It occurred to Klaus momentarily that Wizard, Magician, Sorcerer, and Illusionist had recently become blurry terms. He knew he did not like it. Klaus walked briskly down the path toward his cottage. To his great dismay, the frog followed and felt the need to chat, “So are you the Wizard? Mother said that a wizard lived in the enchanted woods owned by the Duke Argent –“

Klaus stopped, his head turned like a puppets, and his black eyes simmered, “What do you want?”

The frog did not understand the sudden turn from annoyed magician to venomous fiend, and he did not seem to care to, “My mother, the Queen, said a Wizard lived in the enchanted forest that the Duke Argent owned. The Wizard can perform miracles.”

“The land is not owned by the duke,” Klaus growled, “And if you mention him again, I will cut your legs off and eat them.”
“Why?”

Klaus glowered at the little lime amphibian, “I happen to like frogs legs”
Klaus stampeded the rest of the way down the path, his anger causing shadows to leap and darkness to spurt. It was creeping towards the frog at a slow pace. Klaus felt the void’s wish so strongly he almost tried to decapitate the frog himself. He whipped his head around calling back the entity that gave him his abilities. The frog had no idea how close Klaus had been to mutilating it. Klaus brushed a strand of black out of his face. His damp long hair dripped down his back, which proceeded to give his flesh goose pimples. The spring air was brisk and the walk chilly. As he approached the cottage he felt the fury die as he saw the primrose bush bursting into blossom. He nodded at the spirit of a songbird as he passed.

“Why?” The frog’s whiny alto voice annoyed the magician.

His long spidery fingers reached for the elaborate bronze door handle. He grasped it lightly wondering what he would do about the frog. So he proceeded to do the one thing he could, in good conscience. He slammed the cottage door behind him. To his surprise instead of the blissful silence he expected, he heard the cacophony of sound that a human voice in a frog’s throat made. Klaus opened the door to glare at what he assumed would be a half crushed frog. He was wrong, to his disappointment; the frog was uncrushed.

“Can I come in?” the frog’s voice was screechy.

“No,” Klaus knew the frog would get in somehow so he left the door open. Dying frogs were better than dying children but he could not decide whether or not that included frogs who happened to be enchanted princes.  Following a short hall down to his room, Klaus walked over to a wicker basket full of black clothing. Fists clenching on the top two pieces, he did not care if they were clean or dirty. He pulled the shirt over his head and slipped the leggings on. Returning to the fore room, he glared at the frog. The frog sat on the couch and croaked. Klaus sighed, wishing it was a more morbid sense of croaking.

“Can you change me into a prince?”

“I cannot be bothered with foolish wishes,” Klaus slammed the front door for effect. It normally made his visitors a little more cautious and jumpy. When he thought about it making a frog more jumpy seemed like a beginner’s mistake. The frog shot into the air in surprise. If he had been three more centimeters to the right, Klaus mused, he would have been a toasted frog. The lamp dangled dangerously in response. He shook his head it was going to be an incredibly long day.

It was indeed, a day full of time that Klaus was sure would never be revived from the morbid death it suffered. The frog belched and chatted, a dreadful combination. Klaus learned nothing over the course of four hours. The only relevant information gleaned from the interaction was that the frog had been enchanted by an evil sorceress to be a frog until a princess kissed him.

The sorceress had to be a genius. Klaus wondered if she would mind if he replicated her spell. An image shot through his mind, fiery hair and hazel eyes. He shivered maybe he would not try to replicate the spell.

“So, will you help me?” The frog asked while Klaus washed dishes. Washing dishes was an easy way of seeming more natural to his guests. Why he felt the need to be “natural” instead of “supernatural” around a talking frog was one of the many questions of life he didn’t feel like thinking about.

“The sorceress already told you how to fix your problem, “Klaus sighed these cursed creatures never realized that it would be much easier to follow the instructions given to them instead of seeking out another magic user.  He washed the tea cup that had been filled with tea before his bath. If he had been a Wizard he could have told the water in the sink to clean all of the dishes by itself and used the time to do something else. He sighed, instead he was a Magician, and the preparation for a cleaning spell would just cause more of a mess and be harder to clean. In the end Klaus did not want to mess with the cleaning spell. He glanced at the moping frog, he also was not going to mess with a Witch’s spell especially without knowing what class Witch she was. He shivered again.

“What princess would kiss a frog?” the frog whined.

“A desperate one?” Klaus dried the dish he had been working on. The frog hopped over and sat on the clean rack of dishes. Klaus felt every fiber of his rope of patience strain and snap. His mind filled with murderous intent. He picked up the frog, and shoved it out the door, “That is a question for you to search out the answer to. I cannot help you.”

Once again the frog was outside, it whined, “Why did you put me outside? Do you know who I am? I am the prince of the neighboring kingdom, Prince Antonio Van Jaegenstein…”

Klaus blotted out the rant, stared down at the frog, and did what he had wanted to do since the frog spoke to him.

He punted the frog across his garden and into the forest.

The frog was never heard from again.