The Story of A Retiring Wizard

Mad I was and Mad I will always be. I am Magnum, the great, the big. My name says it all. But when older brothers come about with a wise looking face and a wand, things change. I learned slower than Merlin. He chose to use instruments to make magic. I remember at the age of five when I was touching rocks to have them gradually turn green or purple, that twelve year old would show off and make boulders before my eyes. I lived in a castle surrounded woods, our father the Head of the Board of Wizards and Witches, and our mother a potions master. She died by poison. No, not by drinking it. She slipped on a little tube of slow-moving poison and fell down rock stairs, breaking her neck. We were upset, my father and I. But my! Merlin took over the potions. He would not stop anywhere! Not by death but his own! So on we went, I a little boy using my books to learn magic, and he by going to meetings at the Board to ask for spells to practice. Yes, I admit, he was highly more popular, yet I was wiser. I was the first successful wizard to learn spells without wands and things in three hundred years! Did anyone care? No, not one bit. Because by the time I took the wizard test at age twenty, Merlin was on the Board and King Arthur adored him. Ahh, pain filled my heavy heart.
Alas, within days I had had enough. My father was old and weak after battling his one hundredth dragon, which was a Firestar, one of the most powerful. Actually, the deadliest and most cunning. He wanted to live alone, so I packed up my few possessions and many books and moved to the east of the goblin village, south of my old home and the Board of W. There I lived in the center of a dark, dense forest with many beautiful meadows and streams and a waterfall in a small little underground home.
I studied the art in my own privacy, occasionally taking visits to father or going to the Board meetings, staring distastefully at my brother, my opponent, who sat so proudly in the Head chair. I was mortified one day when a little birdie told me my father had grown sick and was put to bed.
I used my powers to summon a griffin named Greef, who took me many furlongs to my old castle. However, the second I rushed panting into the room full of a doctor, a nurse, our dog-fish Slime and Merlin, he drew his last breath as he looked into my eyes. It was said "Magnum? Where is my Magnum?" was his last words.
Ever since those words, Merlin hated me. I despised him, he loathed me. That was the way it was meant to be.
So as I tell you this story, I am sitting drinking tea in my underground home, with Greef outside eating a racoon, preparing to set my life up from that point. Yes, there was much, much more to come after that. I was fourty by then. If you past your fifty years, you tend to live with many hundreds of years to come if your a wizard. Yes, I must tell you of the ten years that determined my future: death of my magic or sucess? I preferring the magic tried my hardest in every aspect of success. So, I shalln't tell you if I'm on my last day before my Salem Wizard Trial or just enjoying myself at age 100, relaxing before a quest. Care to join me for the ride? Because it all starts the next day back at home when an expected visitor comes on a stormy day, however, they bring two unexpected visitors with them.