Earth Versus Flying Saucers, a great Ray Harryhausen sci-fi film that has been totally under rated.

I remember seeing this in the theaters and being shocked out of my socks. It was scary. They were coming. They were coming.

That was the fifties when Communism threatened to draw us into a Nuclear War that no one would or could survive, except in movies which are just fantasies.

Only other recent movie that comes close to the impact of Ray's movie is Independence Day.

Enjoy.

John

Earth Versus the Flying Saucers, Movie Trailer

Flying Saucers Stanton Friedman. Movie.

Mister Friedman has been investigating the mystery of UFOS for most of his life and in this video reveals much of his thoughts and a few exciting things as well.

Enjoy.

John

Flying Saucers are Serious Business movie

Flying Saucers are serious business. So much so that Hitler spent millions on devices that could hover above the ground using only magnetic forces, and America and other countries billions more for the device that can turn 90 degree angles without killing its occupants and can travel underwater, through the air, through space and survive!

Another take on UFOS.

Enjoy!

John

Flying Saucers Are Real! Movie!

Flying Saucers Are Real....

But only on Tuesdays.

Kidding.

I have actually known at least two people who had close encounters with unidentified flying objects. One was very, very friendly, the other no so much.

Living in the land of Area 51 sparks a lot of fantasies and stories, but where there's smoke, there's fire and we all know by now that the governments...modern or old...tend to keep secret what they don't want to share or  us to know.

Anyway, here's something foody for thought!

Enjoy.

John

Pause "A Samuel Light Story." By John Pirillo

Pause

"A Samuel Light Story."

By John Pirillo

Pause.

Time stands still.

Faces hurl along a stream of time.

Abutting a great cliff of nothingness is a hand.

An arm raises a bridge.

A long line of people, their heads downturned, walk slowly along a clockwork path, that ticks slowly round and round until it starts all over again.

Images of children with bleeding eyes.

A soul that flies not with wings, but with streams of blood squirting from its feet.

Pause.

Samuel woke up, shook his mop of hair to clear his mind. He rubbed his eyes, and then slid from his bed to look at himself in his dresser mirror. Twenty something years had worn hard on him he thought at that moment. And what had he accomplished. Nothing. Death. More death and an occasional ray of hope and healing.

He shook his head again, then frowned when Al showed up, seated on his dresser, blowing a harmonica furiously, blowing "My Life Sucks Blues."

"Funny."

Al stopped and his harmonica vanished. 

M stepped into the room, whirling round and round in her beautiful Hollywood red gown. Her lips were painted raspberry red and her eyeliner as well. She threw herself on my bed beside me and put her head on my shoulder and crooned a beautiful lullaby. There I was with one of the sexiest woman who had ever lived, and instead of getting excited and aroused; I was becoming calm and peaceful, centered and clear.

She stopped and gave me a light kiss on the middle of my forehead.

Explosion.

Searing light.

Pause. 

A touch on my right shoulder.

I look.

No one there.

A touch on my left shoulder.

I look.

No one there.

A blazing white road appears before my feet, which I cannot see, and stretches into infinity. Along the road is a long caravan of beautiful angels, all dressed in pure white clothing that glistens like the dewdrops of a morning rain on a crystal yellow daisy's lips. Ahead of them was a gigantic orb of light that they were all stepping into and vanishing.

How I yearned to follow them. To become one with that Light.

Pause.

My eyes opened outwards again and I saw Al and M both seated on my dresser.

"Hi." I said, yawning.

Al grinned. M waved timidly at me, and then blew a long, luscious kiss that blew all that timidity out the window.

"I'm feeling sorry for myself, aren't I?" I asked Al.

He didn't reply. He didn't need to. He looked at M and she gave him a slight nudge with her shoulder, as if saying....say something nice. So he did. "Pause."

I gave him a look. I had been hearing that over and over in the visions and dreams of last night and now this morning. It was morning, wasn't it?

I stood up, threw open the drapes across my bedroom balcony window and the lush, brilliant Las Vegas sun poured in, illuminating the room in slivers of gold and silver. Particles of dust danced and spun together, playing out the cosmic movements that all particles of God did. I watched entranced for several long moments, then turned to look back at my invisible friends.

Al and M are not alive anymore. Not to our world. To their world they are totally alive, vibrant and conscious in every way. It's their right. It's our right, if we're smart enough to accept it. Many don't. They hang onto the illusion that Earth is all there is and it can't get any better. They're wrong. Dead wrong. Earth is just a shopping center for a better soul, a way to pick up what you've learned over lifetimes and make you into something worth selling to God. Not that you have to sell yourself. He already owns you lock, stock and barrel, but He likes His children to want him to want them, just as he wants all of them to love him unconditionally, as he does them.

I sighed. Preaching to the choir. Myself. 

I slid on my jeans, threw on my slippers, then went into my kitchen and hammered out some eggs and toast for breakfast, grabbing a small carton of Sunkist orange juice to wash it down. I ate slowly and methodically, pondering what I had done the last week or so. I didn't get to ponder long though.

Ring. My doorbell. Sounded like the doom alarm. Open me up so I can suck you into another enterprise of human danger and frailty.

I opened my door up and was swept up into the arms of my giant friend, Jimbo. A Texan giant in his mind, and of course, in reality, even though we were almost the same height. He was broader, and built sturdier. He could even have given Hercules a run for the money.

"Sammie, its god-awful good to see you again. Hope you got more of that..." He sniffed the air a moment in silence. "Eggs and toast. No bacon?"

I shook my head.

He grinned. "That's okay."

He swept past me and helped me clean up the rest of my eggs and toast. I had, for some reason I couldn't explain, felt compelled to make enough for three, and good thing I did, because he ate enough for two. That was Jimbo.

He finished the last of the toast by dipping it into a huge mug of coffee, and then with juices slipping down his lips onto the plate, looked up at me.

"Heard the news?"

"What news?"

I should never have asked.

"They found a haunted mine in Henderson."

"Figures. Everything else is haunted here." I muttered in a sarcastic voice.

He gave me a long look. "You feeling sorry for yourself again? Because if you are, I'm going to have to knock you on the side of the head to get some senses back in that body of yours."

"Jimbo, think about it. We've been at this spiritual detective thing now for how long...?"

"Haven't counted. Long time."

"And what has it gotten us?"

He thought about it a moment, took a look guzzle of the rest of my orange juice, and then burped. "Beat up, chased out of countries by armed thugs, sucked up into flying saucers, chased by ghosts, and whipped by crazy religionists."

"Besides that."

Jimbo gave me a strange look and I burst into laughter.

He grinned. "I shoulda known what you were up to."

"But really, what have we really got out of it?"

The doom chime rang again.

I groaned. It couldn't be good news. Someone had to be wanting us to risk our necks again, go out on a limb they didn't dare to, but our limbs were okay to do so. I opened the door.

A delivery man stood there with a huge basket of fruit and beside him were two large bouquets of flowers. "Sign this." He said, offering an invoice.

"You must have the wrong place. No one sends flowers here."

He looked at the invoice. "You Samuel Light?"

"That's him." Jimbo said, leaning over my shoulder. "Sign it, that fruit looks great."

"Don't you ever get enough to eat?" I groused.

He grinned. "Nope. Sign it."

I signed it, and the deliveryman handed the flowers towards me, but before I could take them, Jimbo had them out of his hands and carried them to the kitchenette where he deposited them on the table and began sorting out the fruit for eating.

I brought the flowers inside.

Jimbo was scarfing up several apples. One in each fist. One was yellow. One was green. "Read the card, Sammie."

I set the flowers down and took a card from the basket. 

"Read it out loud."

I read it out loud.

Pause.

I and Jimbo were throwing ourselves between two sand dunes to avoid the raiders chasing us. We had two children between us. We had taken on a job of rescuing them from a cult that worshipped Djinni, a devilish spirit that demanded the blood of children.

I concentrated on the sand ahead of us and it began to twirl. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. At that moment the horde of cultists burst between the dunes and I released the sand devil on them. They screamed in terror as it whipped them around, tossing them back and forth.

Jimbo and I took the children while the cultists were struggling to deal with their fate, and made it to our SUV four wheel and hauled out of there.

We reached the parents of the two kids at the airport, where they had booked a special flight to America to take their children away from the reach of the horrible people who had abducted them.

As we watched the children run to their parents, both Jimbo and I, both thoroughly exhausted, bruised and bleeding in a dozen places from our narrow escape, broke into tears.

Pause.

Jimbo stopped eating and looked at me.

"You got that look again, Sammie."

"What look?" I asked, though I knew and was just faking it to gain some recovery time.

"The look of a man who has seen the bird of paradise, and discovered it's only a duck."

I laughed.

He laughed. He didn't need to know the duck I had just seen. We had both lived it together, and at that moment I knew what I was being shown.

I looked up and Al and M were standing at my balcony window smiling. 

"Thanks!" I said.

Jimbo said. "You're welcome, partner."

I laughed.

Pause.

I laughed again.

Funny how the down moments can sometimes be the calm before the storm of happiness.

Sherlock Holmes interview published at The Baker Street Universe

The above novel is available at Amazon and explores further the nature of the Baker Street Universe. Double click on the image to read more.

I've just published the first part of an interview I accomplished some years back with the very famous Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Harry Houdini.

I think you will find it quite illuminating, warm and amusing as I explore the nature of their relationships and the depth of their bonds.

You will find the first part of the interview at The Baker Street Universe.

Double click HERE to go to The Baker Street Universe and read the interview.

John

Beautiful Fractal Flame now posted.

I can never get enough of these swirly things. The gradients that diminish and strengthe, fading and blossoming into plumes of peacock colors.

Love it!

Enjoy.

John

P.S.

I made it.

(New) Robinson Crusoe on Clipper Island Chapter 12

Fractal Flame

A preview of Man of Steel that shows how the movie might have looked with brigher colors. Amazing!

(New) Robinson Crusoe on Clipper Island Chapter 11

Fractal Flame Gallery

Gozilla Versus Gamera

Gamera, Guardian of the Universe...Kaiju Monsters Galore!

"Pews" An Invisible Man Story By John Pirillo

"Pews"

An Invisible Man Story

By John Pirillo

Professor Langdon had a rough week. The classes had been grueling especially. He had a stack of grades to get out that stood as tall as the top of his office door and a list of students who needed his tutoring equally as long. Not a man to be daunted by such things usually, he found himself shying away from everything, which was distressing his sense of honor greatly. The true source of his discomfort at this time was not the workload, but the new flat he had rented so he could live closer to his work. And not just the flat, but what he had done in it. And his second one adjoining it, which he had gotten for a better price because the prior owner...Doctor Jekyll...had left it in a state of shambles.

But to understand that trepidation and discomfort we have to go back to when he decided to rent not just one, but two flats. That rent would soon serve to be a very large learning platform for him. For he found out only too late in the game that his neighbor, a jolly older man, named Mister Snides, had a very pernicious dog that loved to hurt and tease cats.

It made the mistake early on of doing so to Professor Langdon's cat and his cat had a long memory for wrongs accumulated.

But getting back to the story, it was not his personal flat that accrued the attention of his plight and horror, but rather the second. He was converting the second flat, which adjoined his living quarters and had a door to it, into a laboratory so he could continue his experiments on invisibility. Ever since his remarkable escape in the adventure with the Mummy things with Sherlock and his fellow Baker Street friends, he had been trying to come up with a way to not only make himself invisible to the eye, but also to matter. He had started out with the smallest of creatures, testing tiny worms to see if he could not only make them invisible, but completely porous to matter that might strike them. It had worked after many months of fruitless research and many mangled worm bodies.

Even though they were not sensate like a human, he knew they still possessed some portion of God's gift of self awareness and that caused him to cringe inwardly as he tested his formulas upon the helpless creatures of the earth. But all that anger at himself went away when he was able to smash a hammer on his invisible worm, which he had carefully inked an outline of, and have the hammer leave a deep indentation of the wood the insect was upon, but not harm even one atom of its body.

He removed the invisibility of the insect and saw that it was indeed totally intact.

"By Jove, this is quite remarkable." He praised himself.

Happily, he had brought the experiment home to his flats, to refine the formula and give him more personal time away from the dismal laboratories of his school, so that he could do his work in a spot more congenial to his emotions. He kept his new laboratory complete with beautiful works of art, as well as statuary he accumulated over the years from travels with either Harry Houdini or Professor Challenger.

While not innately a venturous man when it came to exploration, he did sometimes give into his friends and their desire for companionship and accompany them on their various explorations of the Orient and its as yet remarkable mysteries. He had even explored the fallen Atlantis with Challenger once, though that experience had soured him on that aspect of history so much that he begged off entirely when Challenger requested his presence on another trip to such lands.

So that evening it was with great trepidation he carried out a new line of experimentation, using his favorite cat, Pews, for his test subject. He had already made the poor cat invisible numerous times to very hilarious results, especially the time when Pews had smitten his neighbor's dog on the snout without being caught.

Pews rewarded him afterwards by rubbing vigorously against Langdon's kitchen table, its favorite rubbing post. It would go from one leg to the next, each offering its own source of comfort and resolution to the cat.

He smiled. 

His poor neighbor couldn't think for the world of him why his dog would no longer come anywhere near Professor Langdon's flats, but would slink hurriedly past them whenever out for a walk, or whine if taken too slowly past by its owner.

"Naughty Pews." He had scolded his cat, but Pews had merely chosen that moment of infamy to begin licking its front paw, its eyes cocked on him as if daring him to accuse him of anything so dastardly, but Langdon knew better, he had seen the scratch marks on the poor dog's snout. Only one thing could have made it. His cat. Pews.

So it was with great care that he laid Pews down with his favorite catnip toy to sniff and play with, and applied the new invisibility tonic to his fur, starting from the tail and working his way up. At first Pews had given him an accusatory look, causing some degree of guilt, but when the cat smelled the latent catnip in the formula his eyes rolled up in pleasure, and he began purring happily. 

Professor Langdon put a special formula on the cat's paws so he could track him with his special lens that were coated to catch the light reflections the cat's paws would make, then he completed the painting of his cat.

Invisible now, Pews rose to its feet. Langdon could see that because the paw prints became visible on the table top, then on the floor when Pews leaped to it.

Langdon was pleased with the results so far, and decided to go with the next portion of his experiment, but gently as he didn't want to chance hurting his little monster if his experiment had gone astray in the slightest.

He produced a swatter he used to knock flies from the air and slapped it towards where the bottom of the cat should have been. It passed completely through, but poor Mews, unknown to Langdon had turned to lick its bottom and when it saw the swatter coming at it, had let out a howl of terror and sprung for the wall nearest it. 

Being invulnerable to matter, it had passed through the wall directly into his neighbor's flat. Langdon had become puzzled for a moment over the vanishment of the paw prints at the wall, but when he heard barking and cat howls and screams of the neighbor, he had run to his front door, flung it open and pounded on his neighbor's door.

The jolly old man opened the door and his dog raced out, yelping like a struck puppy.

"I don't know whatever has come over that little beast. I'm terribly sorry for the noises it's been making."

"Oh no bother." Professor Langdon said. "I was merely checking to see if you were all right." He lied.

Mister Snides scratched his wispy old white beard, then his chin, then his chest, which was open to the air, revealing strands of curled gray hair. "Peculiar thing is I could swear I heard a cat's voice, but for the world of me, I can't imagine where it came from, as none were in my flat."

"I understand." Professor Langdon cajoled. "How about I see if I can bring your errant friend back to you?"

"Oh would you ever? That would be so kind to these old feet of mine. Not as strong as they used to be." He admitted, a sad look in his eyes and a frown on his face. Then he brightened. "I have his leash and collar."

"Great." Professor Langdon said, waiting for him to get it and return.

He looked at the floor and saw the paw prints led towards the stair well. Not good. He was about to follow them, when Mister Snides returned with his leash and collar. "I do hope you can find him before he's hurt himself or gotten himself into some kind of trouble."

"I'm sure I can." Professor Langdon said soothingly. He took the leash and collar and rushed for the stairwell.

Not so much of a hurry to catch the dog, but to hide the fact that his left hand was beginning to fade away. A not so nice side effect of the experiment which had turned him into the Invisible Man.

He reached the lower flats, and was dismayed to spot the front door open and the paw prints going that direction. Now he was truly in a hurry. He ran out the door and immediately spotted the paw prints headed for the next block.

He ran as fast as he could, then froze at the sound of a horrified dog howling as if it had all the terrors of the world attacking it.

He ran into the alley and there stood the dog on its hind paws, trying to fend off Pew's cat strokes as it played with his doggy friend, who sensed Pew, but had no idea where he could be exactly.

"Pews come here immediately." He hollered.

"Mew!" Was the answer.

He dropped to a knee and a warm body bumped against it, then as he reached for it, Pews began to lose his invisibility. 

Mister Snides' dog saw the cat and bared its teeth, making a horrible growling sound.

Pews turned around to face the creature it had been torturing with claws unsheathed for battle. They both approached each other like two gunslingers, waiting for the right moment to spring into action.

Professor Langdon went invisible and swept both the dog and the cat under his arms. "That'll be enough of that from the both of you."

The two creatures became docile in his grip, though both remarked quite frequently and loudly at each other as he walked back to his flats. Neither would give an inch of civility, but the moment he reached the flats, he resumed visibility and set the dog down by Mister Snides door and knocked.

The older man opened his door after much fumbling with its locks, then dropped to a knee and scooped his dog up into his arms. "Snoodles, you bad dog! Don't you ever run away again!"

Snoodles made a whining sound, gave Professor Langdon's cat a nasty glance, and then began licking Mister Snides' face.

"Well, all's well that ends." Professor Langdon told Mister Snides as he headed for his own front door.

Mister Snides rose to his feet. "Don't you mean that ends well? Ends well?"

"In this case. No." Professor Langdon said without further comment, then opened his flat and shut the door.

Pews broke free from his grip and ran for his eating bowl, where he began eating voraciously, his tail wagging happily.

Professor Langdon sighed. "I guess he was right. It did end well, didn't it?"

Langdon rose and went to cross his kitchen and struck something into his stomach and then backed off. "Oh bloody hell!" He cursed. 

Pews had rubbed the chemicals on its body on the kitchen table legs. Somehow the formula had transferred and made the entire table invisible.

Another problem to solve he cursed to himself, as his fatigue caught up with him.

He yawned deeply, and then sought his bedroom. Several minutes later Pews leaped onto the bed to take up its favorite spot beside his right armpit and began purring as it shut its eyes to nap with him.

It took a further five days for the formula to wear off the kitchen table, as well as two bruised knees, a number of falls and numerous other painful reminders of his invisible table.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did not die on July 7, 1930, instead he transferred to the Baker Street Universe and became a part of Sherlock Holmes' team.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle died on July 7, 1930 and was reborn on the same day in Victorian London, revived by his cantankerous Professor Challenger, who refused to allow his Creator perish without experiencing the world he had written about.

And thus begins the adventure of a lifetime as a famous author who thought his life would translate to another realm where all souls travel eventually,  instead finds himself on a hunt for a deadly killer named Hyde, who lives by draining the life force of humans until they die.

Available now on Amazon for 99cents in e-book format.

And after you've read the first exciting adventure of the Baker Street Adventures which stars Sherlock Holmes and his Baker Street friends and companions, you'll want to read what happens for the search for HYDE, the deadly energy sucking creature that Doctor Jekyll accidentally creates.

 Available now on Amazon for 99cents in e-book format.

(New) The Tiniest of Things, A Merlin Story, By John Pirillo

The Tiniest of Things

Merlin

By John Pirillo

Indigo, or Merlin, whichever. Doesn't matter. He'd been called both and otherwise. And no name ever fit him as well as his own name at any given moment. He never gave away his true name, not even as a child. For to know one's name was to give them power over you, or you over them. So it just wasn't done. How he knew that? He didn't know.

Mother and Father Tree were oftentimes puzzled at the way he did things. He wasn't like the other human children they had come to know and love, but different. Very. Very. Different.

As he sat there on a toadstool examining a tiny fly washing its face, he came to the conclusion that all life, whether big or small, cared about its self disposition...even if only in such small matters as one's looks. He had also come to the conclusion that looks was as far as most creatures, including humans, ever ventured to, let alone beyond.

So it was with no small amount of effort that he began that day trying to show more interest in others than him. No one had told him to. Just a tiny voice inside his head. Some might call that a Whisperer, or Guardian Angel, or Fairy Godmother, or intuition, or whatever, he just called it the right thing to do.

"Indigo." A tiny voice called out.

He looked down from his mushroom and spotted Carrie Tiger. She wasn't a real tiger. She just had the stripes of one and long gray whiskers that spouted from either side of her nostrils, giving her a most catlike appearance. Many of the younger children about them fended her off, shied from her, kept their distance, but he thought nothing of her appearance. After all, he was Indigo, Child of Thunder, and Merlin. A child born from lightning and thunder. Who was he to judge anyone by their appearance, when he himself was just a tiny squirt in the existence of so many giants...real giants...and others of giant stature?

You see, as a child, he knew he was small, but only of body, but he also knew he had advantages as well as disadvantages from being that short. As a child he could milk the older creatures and humans with endless questions that might have bordered on insulting or a waste of time in another mouth than his, but from his, brought forth tiny smiles and nods of appreciation, somehow seeing this tiny human, wearing long robes and walking with a juniper stick as some kind of unique creature that required the most careful of attention.

He never dissuaded them from that perception. He fed it.

But this day it was another tiny thing calling upon him. Tiny thing to tiny thing. He smiled. Nice thought. He'd have to write it down in his diaries when he became a grown man.

"Yes, Carrie Tiger." He replied, hanging over the edge of the very tall mushroom he had climbed to the top of. He had no idea how he was going to climb down again, that was for a later time to figure out.

She waved. "Can I come up and play?"

He frowned. That was the most profound question he'd been asked all day. Treestump had asked him for the time of day, and he had told him. Merry Weather had blown in on a cloud of daisies and asked him where the lake was and he had told her. Jumping Juniper Tree had broken a limb and asked for a splint and he had supplied that. No problems in any of those requirements, but here he was stumped. How did he get her up the tall mushroom and beside him?

"I don't know if I can." He finally ventured.

She frowned.

"But I wanna play with you."

"I'm not playing. I'm watching a fly wash its face."

She jumped up and down, waving her arms. "I wanna see. I wanna see."

Then he got struck by a great idea. He hollered over to Father Tree who was bathing his head in a large puddle of water left from last night's rains. "Father, can you lift Carrie up to where I sit?"

He had stood up, water dripping from every branch and leaf of his head, until his eyes were watering from the downpour. "What Merlin?"

"Carrie wants to come up and sit with me."

"Oh. Her!"

Father Tree stepped forward with three great steps, and then leaned down so she could embrace the top of his lower branch. She climbed on and held to it tight as he marched to where Merlin sat. She leaped from the branch and landed beside him.

"Wheee!" She cried out, and then began to spin in circles.

He stopped her by tugging on her tail.

"Ouch!" She cried out, giving him a very stern look. "That hurt!"

"The fly hurts even more. You stepped on him!"

Her eyes went wide and she began to cry. "Oh, Indigo, I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to!"

She dropped beside him and he held up the tiny crushed creature. Its back legs flopped weakly into the air, as if it wanted to right itself, but hadn't the strength.

"You must save it." She told him, having every expectancy that he would be able to.

He blew on the tiny creature and its fluttering stopped.

"Oh no!" She cried out. "It's died."

But no it hadn't. For the very next moment it flipped over onto its legs and began washing its face again, paying neither one of us any particular attention.

Carrie Tiger clapped her hands in delight.

"You did it. You did it."

"Actually." He told her. "I didn't."

"But you blew on it and it revived."

"Yes. True. But I don't know why that worked."

She gave him a stern look. "Are you telling me, Indigo, that you have no real magic?"

"No. I'm telling you that I didn't do that."

She put her furry hands on her hips and made a face. "Well someone did!" She pointed out accusingly, as if that settled the matter.

He gave it no more thought, as her attention shot away to a small caterpillar that was crawling onto the top of the mushroom. "Catie Pilar." She laughed and crawled to watch it walk.

He waited until the fly was finished with washing its face, and then said. "Fly away my little friend."

The fly inclined its head in what could not be mistaken for anything other than a bow, and buzzed off like a rocket across the mushrooms tops, soon lost to view.

Later Merlin had sat with his back against Mother Tree's bark and asked her. "Mother, why did that fly come back to life when I blew on it?"

"Did you want it to?"

"Yes. Very much so. My heart hurt like someone had shot an arrow through it."

She caressed my long hair with one of her hand branches and began singing lightly.

"A caring heart

With soft explain

Will carry love

To all domains.

So if you pain

And if you sorrow

Love will heal you

Morrow and morrow."

He didn't understand the meaning of the words that night, but after he woke up the next morning, huddled at her feet, he remembered the words. 

"Mother."

"Yes, son."

" I love you."

"And I love you." She replied.

And that is how he learned that love is stronger than magic, than spells and wondrous wands of power.