Chapter One: A Kettle O Tea

"Aah, confounded you curmudgeon, the kettles been whistling like mad cant ya hear it?!" The wizard sitting smug in his velvet red chair, with legs crossed just eyed him entertainingly behind his spectacles.
"Now now, Merlin, no need to lose your temper," he said rather calmly,
"I'm sure it wont burn." A smile started to spread from underneath his long, graying beard.
"I know its na going to burn, I'm just saying, its your turn to remove the kettle." said the one from across the room, standing with clenched fists. "Alas Solomon, you are always sitting on your lazy bum eating crumpets."
"Why yes, you noticed. But o course you cant have crumpets without tea, so why don't you get it?"
"No!" shouted Merlin, "If you want tea with your bedamned crumpets, you get it!"
"no," was the simple reply from the wizard in the red chair. This was obviously a normal Monday morning for the brothers. Solomon raised a furry eyebrow, and removed his spectacles, setting them daintily on his lap. He then folded his long fingers and stared at his brother, grimacing.
"well, if you recall, Merlin. Three days ago at 6:00 Am, we were riding past Habibi's Oasis, and you thought (mind you) that we should dismount and have a nice picnic."
"yes, I recall," whispered Merlin.
"Of course you do. Anyways, we dismounted and sat up above on Shavavgo's Peak. I set down my staff, and admired the setting sun that was so graciously set out before us.
"It was actually quite boring," added Merlin, pondering the moment.
"Please do be quiet!" snapped Solomon in agitation. "Merlin's beard you can be annoying."
"Would you be referring to my beard?" questioned Merlin, (well in the know that he was not.)
"O course not, our great great grandfather, I would never be talking about your beard."
"Well then don't talk about my beard, anyways, I know you want it, your jealous." Merlin was agape with horror.
"I was neva jealous,"
"Aah, not was, brother, is is the appropriate word." Merlin was now jumping up and down and waving his long beard in Solomons face.
"You will never grow a beard as long as mine!" He kept taunting. Clearly he was enjoying this. Merlin pushed him away, and pretended as if nothing happened.
"Anyways, you thought a push off the cliff would be just a knee slapper, and thus pushing me off, my staff snapped into two pieces as it fell down with me. Luckily I payed attention in gravology, and preformed the floating kinesis-corpse spell before I fell onto impending death." Merlin chuckled his deep, throaty old laugh, and leaned over, laughing so hard that the throbbing had to have him set his hand on one knee for support.
"Solomon, O course I would of not let you get hurt, clearly you hadn't a clue that I was watching you the whole way down in case you were to flustered to remember anything. And you are right, I never should of done that to your poor old soul." He gave out a devious smile as he said that, knowing Solomon hated being called old.
"Old, old?! Who are you calling old? I am only three years, four months, five days, and sixteen seconds older than you! And I am only 103 years old. So you better shut your mouth you curmudgeon!" Solomon was standing out of his chair, and holding his blue hat, revealing his bald spot exactly were it had been.
"I have battled a dragon, made alliances with the most stubborn troll you will ever meet, rode a Griffin for five days strait, and not to mention the horrible soars that followed. Do you think I could have done all that when I was old? Rubbish, not a chance! And every wrinkle or crease you see on my skin is not from aging, but from the adventures I have been through. They show you what chances I've took, how I have come inches to death! Think of it as that. But you complaisant old man have no ambitions, I actually have a desire in life! And now since my precious staff is gone I can only do half of the things that I was able to do with it in my grasp, If I was to have it right now, intact, I would be able to remove the kettle. But, since it is not, you will do it for me. And that is why I will not remove the tea kettle."
Solomon gratefully sat back into his chair, and lit a carved brown pipe. He closed his eyes with content, and formed some smoke rings. Merlin walked to the desk at the bottom opposite end of the room, and shakily grabbed a florescent bag. He put it hastily to his mouth and heavily breathed into it. He removed it from his mouth before he began to cough uncontrollably. Solomon looked at his brother with pity, wishing that the sudden outburst was never said. The process was repeated again rasp rasp, ruffle ruffle, cough cough. After about 3 minutes, Merlin was done, and sleepily lay down upon the couch across from Solomon. Only the ticking of the grand wizard clock, and the occasional whinny of a horse was heard. Other than that, all was silent.
Solomon got up from his cozy, velvet chair, and removed the kettle. He poured two cups of tea, and set one on the table next to the couch.
"I suppose a cup of tea would be reasonable for this hour,"
the grandfather clock read 10:00. Solomon returned to the warmness of the chair,
"I agree brother," came the whispered voice of Merlin "I agree."