The Goat Was Already Burning

Immense natural power and indestructible optimism prove a hazardous combination in the hands of this sorceress. She never intends to turn villages into memorable landmarks; she simply awakens each morning convinced that this time the spell shall proceed precisely as intended. The villagers, beneficiaries of considerable prior experience, are less persuaded.

Seraphino and Halo Audelle portray two exhausted townsfolk trading the latest calamities like neighbors exchanging gossip across a garden fence. Explosions, levitating fish, and a roofless courthouse matter less than the sorceress’s serene refusal to accept responsibility. Every crater receives an explanation delivered with such confidence that disbelief begins to feel almost impolite.

I have long maintained that the sorcerer differeth from the wizard in one essential respect. A wizard commandeth magic through study; a sorcerer surviveth it through confidence. The Goat Was Already Burning therefore concerneth not a villain, nor a fool, but a woman of immense natural power whose optimism exceedeth her control. She doth not awaken intending to reduce villages to memorable landmarks. Rather, she sincerely believeth that this time the spell shall proceed exactly as intended. The villagers, having accumulated rather more experience in the matter, have reached a different conclusion.

It also afforded me the delightful opportunity of singing a proper duet with the ever-graceful Halo Audelle. We portray two thoroughly exhausted townsfolk who have witnessed entirely too many magical incidents to be surprised by any of them, and our voices pass the tale back and forth like neighbors exchanging increasingly unbelievable gossip over a garden fence. Halo’s poise proved the perfect counterweight to my own theatrical exasperation, allowing every absurdity to land with complete sincerity. My favorite refrain remaineth, “The goat was already burning,” for it perfectly captureth the sorceress’s magnificent refusal to accept responsibility. Every impossible calamity is met not with panic, but with an explanation so confidently delivered that one almost wisheth to believe it. The comedy lieth not in the explosions, nor the levitating fish, nor the courthouse bereft of its roof. It lieth in the unwavering conviction that none of these events could possibly have anything to do with the glowing woman standing calmly at the center of the crater.