Change is good if it's not bad.
Change
Mazen leaned against the bar of the deserted restaurant. Spain again, eh? How nostalgic. In his hand, he held the crumpled parchment paper with a single line in that painfully familiar handwriting:
[The usual place.]
When was the last time they had met here? Maybe it had been two hundred years. That day, Lilinette turned her back on him forever. He remembered the tears — his own and hers. He remembered the salty sorrow and the pain of betrayal. For the first and last time, he begged someone. The always proud master of darkness begged desperately for her not to leave them.
When she stepped out the door, Mazen fell to his knees, feeling as if the world had turned upside down — she had meant so much to him at the time. He thought he'd managed to put this piece of his past behind him, but he was wrong. His rush to the meeting like a man out of his mind was the best proof of that. He was disgusted even at the thought of it, but part of him still hoped to get her back.
Lilinette entered the dilapidated inn, her mere presence seeming to weaken the other mage. She pulled down her hood, her face emotionless. Her eyes now glittered a slightly distant but calm blue as she surveyed Mazen's red robe with the pointed hood — the sole privilege of the Shadow Circle. He must have come from a meeting.
The pointy hood fell over broad shoulders and Lilinette caught a glimpse of a face she hadn't seen for a long time: sharp features, pointed chin, and gray eyes. Those cold eyes almost glowed against the man's brownish skin and black hair. Mazen's lips curved upwards.
"It's been a long time, Sister," he said.
"I never thought I'd hear you call me that again," Lilinette observed.
He shrugged his shoulders in a careless gesture, one he used to reserve only for her.
"Times change, but we remain the same," he added, then came to the point: "To what do I owe this unexpected meeting?"
"I wish you would stop this madness," said Lilinette. "You should finally admit that we can't win."
Mazen laughed in amusement. "Why do you think like this?"
"Humans are evolving rapidly. What do you think would happen if mages were discovered? During the witch hunts, we got a taste of their hatred. I thought you knew that best," Lilinette argued.
"By the time they realize we exist, it will be too late," Mazen replied confidently.
"They will find a way to distinguish us, and they will develop weapons that match our power," she countered. "We are simply too few, and they are too many. If they find out, they will crush us."
"Why are you afraid of them, Lil? What scares you so much about them? They're nothing but worms!" Mazen scoffed.
"You forget that these worms almost wiped us out!" Lilinette snapped.
Mazen stepped closer to her and gently stroked her hair. "Did you forget our dreams? We shall create a world where we can finally stop hiding and live in peace. Come with me! I know of no greater mage than you. With your power at my side, we could sweep them away in an instant!"
"These are foolish dreams, Mazen," Lilinette said, stepping back. "Dreams created merely to give us a reason to live."
"Then answer me this one question," he began, "What good will it do us to hide?"
"Survival!" she said firmly.
For a long moment, they remained silent.
"I think," he smiled softly, yet mournfully, "these two roads will never meet again."
Lilinette sighed deeply and smiled at him as gently as when he was a child. When they still believed in a brighter future. They believed in smiles, tears, and comforting words. When they both believed that nothing could break this bond stronger than blood.
"You're right," she whispered.
Then Mazen hugged her. He held her softly, so gently that he barely touched her — as if he still could hardly believe that Lilinette was really there with him. He inhaled deeply the distinctive scent of her magic that always emanated from her.
He loved that smell — it was like cinnamon mixed with the smell of fire and sparks. It was the same scent that soothed him when he woke up at night from his bloodiest nightmares. At the time, Mazen thought that if home had a smell, it would surely be like this.
Lilinette, this brave, strong yet seemingly fragile woman, was once his master, his lost best friend, and his only family.
She burrowed her face into Mazen's shoulder socket. Maybe she was thinking similar things. And then the moment was gone forever, and they were face to face again, on the edge of two opposing worlds.
"I sincerely wish we never meet again," Mazen began, "or I shall have to kill you."
He turned his back on her, and now, once and for all, on his past, and left her alone in the ruined inn. Mazen stepped out into the cool night air, the door of the dilapidated inn creaking shut behind him. His heart was heavy with the weight of their conversation.
The streets of the small Spanish town were empty, the only sounds the distant murmur of the sea and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Mazen walked slowly, each step measured, his thoughts a whirlwind of memories and emotions.
He couldn't shake the image of Lilinette from his mind. Her determined eyes, the way she looked at him with a mixture of sadness and resolve. With a final glance back at the town, Mazen pulled his hood up and disappeared into the night, the shadows swallowing him whole.
(...)
Dr. Szabolcs Szedresi was leisurely stirring the contents of the pot, then walked to the fridge and opened the door wide. He searched for a while, then sighed in frustration. He slid his eyes towards the kid sitting at the table, deeply engrossed in reading, and had a brilliant idea – or rather, a catastrophic idea.
"Would you mind going down to the store for some milk?" he asked kindly.
"Sure," the boy jumped up immediately, with a disgustingly blissful smile on his face.
Szasza rummaged in his wallet for a moment, then handed the boy a note. After that, he grabbed a pen and drew a simple map on a small piece of paper and handed it to him too.
Ábel left the apartment humming happily. When the door closed, the fae sighed. I suspected it wouldn't be easy for either of them to get used to the sudden change. Of course, the doc soon realized that Ábel was actually not much trouble, and if he gave him a book, whether it was a lexicon or a storybook, he wouldn't be too much of a nuisance.
I'm sure Szasza was actually amazed at how much the boy loved to read and with what fervor he devoured everything ever written on paper. When he ran out of the easier, he turned to more complex literature. When he saw him with a book on genetic engineering, the fae doctor quickly realized that despite Ábel's naivety and childishness, he was quite intelligent. This was most evident when the boy asked questions about the book's content.
Ábel had only been his guest for two days, yet the fae doctor had learned a lot about him. For instance, not to let him near the sink. The kid sometimes had trouble with proper force application, but this was natural for someone like him. Tests on blood samples revealed that the boy was only twenty percent human, "almost a vampire." Nevertheless, this twenty percent brought a lot of inconveniences for him, such as his own venom also affecting him, or that he had a harder time learning to control his strength. But there were certain advantages to his human nature, such as enjoying the taste of human food and even being able to digest it.
The next thing Szasza learned about Ábel was to keep him as far away from the washing machine as possible. This step was necessary if he didn't want his remaining medical coats to end up pink. So, the fae quickly realized that despite the boy's eagerness to help, he would still be doing the housework himself.
The front door opened, and Ábel stepped into the kitchen with a huge grin, triumphantly holding up the bag. The doc stared wide-eyed at the handful of colorful candies.
"I didn't know which one you liked, so I bought a bit of everything," he began with rapturous enthusiasm. "I've only tasted the cherry one so far, you know, it's Shay's favorite, and when I saw it, I thought you might want to try it too! It's really very tasty..."
"The milk?" asked the doctor, at which the other turned pale. "I, uh... I got so excited when I saw the candy..."
"No problem," the fae let it go. "Could you watch the pot while I run down for some milk?"
"Sure!" the boy nodded vigorously.
Szasza walked down to the store, his steps, as always, calm and leisurely. He didn't buy anything else, just a liter of milk. He was back in ten minutes. In the hallway, he took off his shoes, threw his coat on the hanger, and headed to the kitchen.
Szabolcs Szedresi received an eternal lesson in choosing his words carefully. Ábel looked up at the man excitedly and smiled immediately.
"Welcome home, I watched the pot with all my might, as you asked!" he grinned triumphantly.
The doctor looked resignedly into the pot's contents, which had turned into a brownish-black, burnt mass. Well, Szasza, indeed, not even the Sun Goddess herself could turn this into edible food...
"Did I do something wrong?" Ábel asked in a sad tone.
To this, the man just laughed, for the first time in a long time. With his usual gentle smile, he ruffled the boy's hair, and I was then completely certain that I had made the right choice.
"Let's go eat something in town instead," suggested the fae, at which the other immediately brightened up.
That day, the doc learned one more thing about Ábel - he loved car rides.
Lunch turned out to be a McDonald's cheeseburger and fries. While eating, Ábel also shared with the man that his "bro" had once brought him here. Seeing the doc's face, he didn't seem to have a good opinion of me, and Ábel's babbling didn't help.
"You really like him, don't you?" he asked suddenly.
Ábel started nodding vigorously, as his mouth was full.
"He's the best bro in the world!" the boy grinned.
Oh, dear. I might even blush. However, the fae doctor looked like he had bitten into a lemon. He certainly had his doubts. Significant doubts.
The doctor decided to change the subject. "Would you like to look for some books? My favorite store is nearby."
Ábel's eyes said it all – and so it happened that after lunch, they went to get some intellectual nourishment for the boy. The kid finally dragged him into an antique bookstore. He was searching for something intensely because he suddenly looked very serious and determined. After fifteen minutes of searching, the boy triumphantly held up the found volume.
"The Little Prince?" the man was surprised.
"Yes!" the other nodded.
"Don't you want to get something else?" the doctor asked. "Although it's a children's book, it's a thought-provoking read, but it's also quite short. You'd finish it in a few hours."
"I've already read it," the boy declared, surprising the doctor again.
"Then why do you want to buy it?" the man frowned.
"It was my first book, Shay taught me to read with it," the boy explained. "It's my favorite story, I could read it a million times.
"He taught you to read?" the doctor was astonished.
"Uh-huh."
Szabolcs Szedresi seemed at that moment to have realized something earth-shattering. He was silent for minutes, just looking at that thin little book.
"I know he didn't make a good impression on you" the boy stated, at which the man's eyes widened. "But he's truly good at heart. I know what you think, but Shay is not someone who would just discard something when it's no longer needed. That night, I noticed he was very nervous and frustrated. Something's wrong, Doctor, and he sent me to you because he trusts the Doctor."
As the fae looked at the boy, I was sure he found an uncomfortably large number of similarities between me and my half-brother for the first time.
"What do you want from me?" the man asked directly.
"I want to learn medicine," the boy replied quietly. "I want to help others and become skilled enough to save lives, just like you. Shay will need this kind of support."
"What makes you think that?" the doctor raised an eyebrow. "Do you perhaps know what he's planning?"
Ábel shook his head.
"In any case," the boy continued, "Shay will always be in danger, simply because he can't be ignored because of his heritage. That's why I know he'll need me."
The doc nodded as he ruffled the boy's hair. "You're a truly loyal kid."
Ábel always had an unusual duality that was hard to pinpoint. There was something childlike and naive about him that charmed those around him, yet secretly, due to some inexplicable premonition, people were wary of him.
I knew that the fae doctor couldn't fully claim to have figured out the true nature of this duality, but he got a small taste. For Ábel, the world was entirely new, which is why he approached it with such enchanting curiosity and adorable foolishness – at the same time, this boy had an insight that was worth considering if one didn't want to fatally underestimate him.
The man rubbed his chin – he always did this when he was deep in thought. I only needed to glance at him to know what he was thinking. He was pondering whether Ábel might have completely figured him out too and if he could read his moods.
I grinned, and Ábel, with a slight, almost apologetic smile on his lips, offered the man a lollipop. The doctor sighed deeply. In any case, he accepted the lollipop.
"I'm glad you're getting along" I said, knowing they couldn't hear my voice, then glanced once more at my half-brother.
Ábel's eyes sparkled with a thousand stars at that moment, and all I could think about was that I had made the right decision. I placed my hand on the boy's shoulder, and the memory dissolved into colorful smoke before my eyes a moment later.
I sighed deeply, almost in relief, but didn't open my eyes for a moment. I felt Simon's icy fingers slipping out of mine. I looked up at the spirit and smiled.
"Thanks, Simon."
The spirit nodded. His form seemed more solid than before he shared his mind with me. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of us.
The thought of having to cook myself was quite distressing, especially if we didn't want to starve. It was even more overwhelming when I had to get to work. If that wasn't enough, I heard Alex and Rolo bickering in the kitchen for almost half an hour like toddlers in a sandbox. 'Give me the bucket, damn it! But that's my damn bucket...'
That's when I snapped and turned off the TV. Of course, Alex immediately retorted that he was going to watch Deadpool right now. Rolo threw a pillow at his head while demanding the remote control from me so he could finally watch the excruciatingly boring documentary on Discovery. I gave them a dismissive look as I walked back to the kitchen with the remote.
The latest article of the Kaleidoscope also discussed the mysterious series of murders:
[The latest victim survived!]
The lines moved and other articles opened on their own – the only sign of Simon's presence in the room. Although the spirit never left this world, I rarely encountered him; he only appeared if I called him. The fact that he was still in the kitchen I knew from the way he was reading the news. Or there were times when, at night, I got up for a glass of water and noticed a book leisurely floating down the hallway. Sometimes, I heard barely audible, otherworldly whispers from the bathroom. When I asked Berry about it, he shrugged.
"Poor guy is bored," he replied. "I can understand; the afterlife is pretty dull."
"He should move on," I remarked.
I thought he would probably go after the others; maybe he just needed a little more time. But this theory seemed to be failing – it had been almost a year since we defeated the Fifth.
"If a spirit can't move on, there are two possible reasons," Berry began. "The first is that he couldn't let the past go, and something still ties him to this world."
The bogey suddenly fell silent.
"What's the other reason?" I asked.
It's quite a chilling feeling when your own reflection stares hard into your eyes...
"The other reason is that he wasn't supposed to die," Berry continued. "That's why he can't leave this world because he hasn't fulfilled his destiny. His soul is stuck; it can never find peace."
My throat went dry.
"What do you think..."
Berry nodded. "Yes, he belongs to the second category."
"Is that even possible?" I grumbled. "If he has a destiny, then it must happen, right? Otherwise, what's the point?"
"In theory, what you say is true," replied the bogey. "But sometimes there are cases where destiny is altered, and others become victims of this."
"What happens to such spirits?" I asked.
Berry shrugged. "They disappear."
"Disappear?" I repeated in shock.
"Simon has only not disappeared because he sometimes 'borrows' a bit of your energy," said the bogeyman.
"Hm."
"Don't blame him for it," Berry asked, in an unusually gentle tone. "Spirits fear nothing more than disappearing."
"I don't blame him," I declared.
Of course, I knew about it; Simon never hid it from me. I would have been angry if he had tried to keep it a secret.
"That's good," he agreed.
"You know a lot about ghosts," I remarked.
"Yeah," he nodded. "My best friend was a spirit."
"Was?" I was surprised.
"He disappeared," he declared.
My reflection's face hardened but only for a moment before adopting my expression. Berry walked away.
I stirred the soup and tried to banish the unwanted memory from my mind. Then I tried to ignore the damn phone.
After dinner, Rolo announced that he was going to rest in his room. Naturally, I knew this was far from the truth, but since it wasn't my business, I decided not to bother with it. Especially since I didn't plan to spend the night at home either.
After successfully getting Alex to take his painkiller and managing to get him to finally go to bed, I decided it was time for me to leave as well.
"Simon," I began, and the spirit appeared before me. "I'm leaving for a while. Would you mind keeping an eye on Alex, at least to keep him alive?"
No, I wasn't exaggerating; when Alex is sick, he's just dangerous to himself and others. For example, he might fall asleep on the toilet or in the bathtub if I didn't check on him. There were also instances where he just fell down the stairs, almost breaking his neck.
"Of course," replied the spirit.
"Thanks," I said. "If anything goes wrong, I'll be at Babel."
He nodded and disappeared again.