The difference between a mage and a madman is whether the spell works.
Less than an hour later, I was working as an obedient employee—I didn't want my nice boss to scold me for slacking off again.
When Willingham walked in, to my surprise, Hajnal didn't make a fuss. She simply directed him towards her office. I noted to myself that my dear, wonderful boss deserved at least a delicious bonbon for this. I entered and took a seat in Hajnal's chair.
"Willingham," I said in a smooth, almost bored voice.
Normally, I would have extended my hand, but as this was far from a casual situation, I refrained. I didn't even offer him a seat. For a long moment, I just scowled, trying to decipher what my sworn enemy was doing in my office. (Or rather, in Hajnal's office. Details.)
When I saw one of his men at the pub, poorly disguised, I thought he was either spying on me or trying to find incriminating evidence to arrest me. Most likely both. I just hadn't had time to properly investigate George Willingham's specific intentions. Yet.
"Shaytan," Willingham said, squinting his eyes as if looking into the sun, fascinated by my radiant presence.
Or maybe he was just trying to look suspicious. More likely the latter. I still did not ask him to sit. I wanted this over quickly to get the danger out of my office—Hajnal's office.
"What disastrous planetary alignment brings you to my pub, Willingham?"
"You know exactly what brought me here," he said coldly. Very coldly.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied calmly.
Willingham's lips twitched. "You have no intention of stopping the bloodshed, do you?"
I always knew George Willingham was mad, but this was the best evidence yet. I stared at the angry hunter.
"Why do you think I broke into the Crosspherat?"
"I don't have hard proof yet, but I'll get it. Hand the half-blood over!"
"I had nothing to do with the half-blood or the break-in. Would you like anything else?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You've wasted my time coming here," Willingham snarled. "You're a disgrace to our whole family! You'll rot in prison, Shaytan, I'll see to that myself!"
"Shall I show you out, or do you know the way?"
Willingham stared at me for a moment, as if he couldn't believe I had actually said that, then stormed out of the office.
Life is a constant battle against others. It's not about good fighting evil. There are no heroes. Willingham will soon find that out. Whether you're a hunter or prey in this world, it doesn't matter what your ideology is. Like the snake and the eagle—when they meet, they have to fight, and then one of them dies. They have to kill each other to survive. But what would happen if they joined forces?
(...)
Moses had principles and reservations. For example, he would not read fanfiction that was less than ten chapters long and had fewer than thirty reviews. Another principle seemed to be that if he encountered a weird stranger near his house, he would ignore them. So, to her great surprise, he ignored Lilinette and simply walked past.
"Hey, kid," she began ominously, "Don't you dare ignore me!"
Moses glanced at her, then returned his attention to his hands mashing at the lock.
"You must have mistaken me—" he started, but Lilinette's patience ran out before he could finish.
The mage unleashed her magic, slamming the boy against the door and instantly expelling every drop of air from his lungs. Moses felt the smoldering magic pressing against his skin and pinning him to the plastic. He quickly realized he should not have pissed this woman off.
The suffocating essence dissipated, but even so, Moses felt like long minutes had passed as he shivered against the door. When nothing held him anymore, he buckled at the knees and collapsed, coughing. Ouch, that must have hurt.
Lilinette clearly was considering if she should erase his memory of her and leave. But then Miserable Moses glanced up at her defiantly, seemingly oblivious to the dread that filled his insides.
"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked.
The mage liked the look in his eyes. "Lilinette," she declared. "I am here to guarantee the survival of the famiglia of which you are a member."
"Famiglia?" the boy asked as he stood up. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you know Shaytan?" Lilinette's question sounded more like a statement, and the boy nodded.
"The famiglia is a group of monsters," Lilinette explained. "Shaytan is the leader of this famiglia."
"Oh."
Moses didn't quite understand what the mysterious stranger was talking about. He couldn't remember ever having joined such a famiglia.
"Shay has protected you on more than one occasion, hasn't he?" she interjected, guessing his thoughts. "Leaders don't do that for outsiders. It's proof that he found you worthy of joining." Then she added, "Though I can't imagine what he sees in you."
I don't know either, okay?
If Moses was offended, he showed no sign of it. He didn't want to appear weak in front of her, so he most likely only cursed her in his mind.
"Are you one of the famiglia?" he asked.
"No," she replied.
"Then are we allies?" the boy frowned.
"Don't get me wrong, kid," the witch began sternly. "I really have nothing to do with you or any of you other wimps. I'm only helping you because I have a vested interest in keeping you alive," a smirk tugged at her lips. "The only one I'm allied with is Shay."
"And what exactly do you want from him?" asked Moses.
"Too many questions, kid," she growled.
It had not escaped her notice that he had now changed his demeanor. Now that he knew the mage couldn't kill him, he wasn't so afraid of her.
"Well, until you answer all my questions, I refuse to cooperate," he folded his arms across his chest.
"Brave little shit," Lilinette said through gritted teeth.
Her palms were itching for a good, educational slap.
"Violent vixen," the kid retorted calmly. "So what do you want from him?"
Lilinette sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she killed the kid. "I owe him two lives," she declared. "We agreed that if I succeeded in protecting members of his famiglia, he would waive one of the favors."
"Protect us from what?" the boy asked another obvious question.
Lilinette now seriously wanted to slap him.
"Shaytan is about to be imprisoned," she declared. "My job is to prevent the deaths of his suicidal henchmen."
"Why is he letting himself be arrested?" Mose asked, his curiosity undiminished.
Lilinette's expression turned grim. "That's something you don't need to know, kid. Just know that he's doing it for a reason, and your job is to stay alive and not screw things up."
"Are you happy now?" Lilinette asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"More or less," the boy replied.
"We don't have much time to make a decent mage out of you," sighed the woman. "Let's get started."
Nodding hesitantly, Moses turned the key in the lock, opened the door, and entered. Lilinette paused at the threshold, feeling the protective spells pulse against her skin. She snorted in recognition—these weren't spells a kid with the magic of a charmed pin could create. Moses hesitated for a moment and she raised one of her beautifully arched eyebrows.
"Come in."
She stepped in, but as she was about to take the next step, her foot stopped halfway in the air. She froze, only able to move her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling, where a few runes were scratched into the paint directly above her. Barely noticeable, a perfect trap. I saw in her eyes that Lilinette had to admit, the kid had potential.
"Now," he began, "tell me what you've been hiding from me."
Something happened that Moses hadn't expected: a predatory grin settled on her lips as the house shook with the magic that had been unleashed. He heard some glasses and plates in the kitchen explode into atoms, and not far away, a picture fell loudly to the floor. White dust fell on the boy's face, and his eyes immediately flashed to the ceiling. His eyes widened—a crack, like a snake, rapidly approached the runes.
Moses, frightened, reached into his pocket with one hand, and pressed his other thumb to the tip of the needle hidden in his shirt, then to the black disc in his trousers. His blood caused the runes on it to come to life, and in a moment, all the cutlery in the house rose and hovered around Mose, their edges pointed menacingly at the mage opposite.
"Cute little toy," Lilinette said with an unchanging smile, looking at the magnet clutched with trembling fingers.
Moses' heart was in his throat, he was unable to move. For the first time in his life, Moses was able to see the magic. The air in the room heated up, almost scorching the boy's skin as flames surrounded the mysterious woman's figure. They seemed to crawl out from beneath her skin, tongues of flame dancing on her upper arms, her hair like a robe of flame enveloping her form. Her golden-brown eyes flashed dangerously, red flames dancing around her pupils.
Even though I knew this had already happened, the monster in me stirred and almost purred at the sight of this mage's power. I composed myself.
Mose knew that this fire could burn him to ashes in an instant—he might not even realize it. He heard the clink of cutlery on the floor. In an instant, she was in front of him, ruffling his hair—the menacing presence gone from the room.
"Lesson one: If you are confronted by a mage as powerful as me, flee," Lilinette began. "If that is not possible, kill them with a single, powerful blow."
Mose glanced up at the woman. Lilinette's features softened to a kind smile. I was sure that for a moment she had meant those words for someone else, not for Mose. She would never have looked at a stranger with such a gentle look as she did then.
"Do you live alone?" she asked suddenly, looking around and snapping her fingers.
The room looked better than when it was new.
"No, I have a sister," said Moses.
"Take me to your room," Lilinette ordered. "It would be a problem if an unmagical found out what we were doing."
Mose nodded and hurried upstairs, straight to his room. She glanced around carelessly. The room was tiny and unremarkable, with bare, pale blue walls and a small window with a strip of salt scattered on the sill in front of it and various runes carved into the frame. There was a desk under the window, a bookshelf not far away, and a wardrobe a little further on. In addition, a carefully made bed was tucked into one corner.
Lilinette took a small box from her pocket, put it down at the foot of the bed, and, crouching down in front of it, tapped twice on the lid. The chest grew in the blink of an eye. Mose watched in fascination as she pried the lid open and climbed in, murmuring for him to follow.
Inside the crate, he found himself on a ladder. He looked around and gaped: he arrived in a huge room. It was filled with huge bookshelves that reached to the ceiling.
"What is this place?" asked Mose, turning his head from side to side.
"My library," said Lilinette. "But that's not the important thing; we're here because we have to keep out of sight."
Moses nodded. In any case, he planned to sneak a peek at a few volumes while the woman wasn't looking.
"How much do you know about this world?" she asked.
"Not much," Mose admitted. "I have only recently discovered its existence."
Lilinette sighed deeply. "You must know your enemies if you want to survive."
Mose nodded.
Two armchairs appeared in the room, and they sat down.
"The most important thing you need to know is that the fairy tales are all true," she declared. "The world of humans and the edge of imagination is where the creatures of the night live."
Mose etched her every word into his mind. And Lilinette, though she wouldn't admit it, must have felt her chest warm slightly at the nostalgic feeling. Her features softened and her eyes sparkled like liquid gold. It must have been a long time since she had taught mages.
"A mage's power is inborn, unique, special. But fae derive most of their magic from their environment. These are the two ways of doing magic these days," she explained further.
"In which category is blood magic included?" the boy interjected.
"The first category," Lilinette replied. "It uses the life energy in the blood, which is very similar to a mage's magic, only a little more powerful."
"Vampires are considered the youngest race, with most of their ancients still alive. They themselves attribute their creation to a curse."
Mose noticed how the woman's eyes suddenly turned a mysterious green.
"Some believe that in ancient times, mages fought wars for some reason and that is why sometimes unmagical people can have magical children. After the wars, the losing side's magic was stolen and sealed in relics."
"So you think they stole it from my ancestors too?" mused Moses.
"No, your situation is different," she shook her head. "I've been walking this world for a couple of centuries, so I know a thing or two. I've noticed that the newer generations of mages are not nearly as magical as the older mages like me. I have discovered the most frightening thing that mages can discover: magic is slowly disappearing from the world."
"What?"
"You are one of the best examples of this," the woman added. "You come from a noble family of mages with a long history, yet you do not possess the power to match. You are the only one in your family with magical abilities, and they are feeble at best."
"How do you know this?"
"Firstly, I do not feel any magic in this house apart from yours." Lilinette smiled. "Secondly, when a mage is born they are gifted two names. The first one they shall not know until they can protect themselves because our first name is like a spell. It is a unique sound that describes our very being and cannot be separated from it. When I tried to call upon you, I failed. This must mean this is your second name."
Mose seemed flabbergasted. "You mean... that my parents knew?"
Lilinette shook her head back and forth. "No, I don't think so. They would have chosen a better name."
"Then why?"
"It must have been a meaningless family tradition."
Mose was thinking for a while.
"Do you really think magic will disappear?"
It must have been frightening to think that this miracle he had only just tasted would suddenly disappear from the world.
"It seems so," said Lil.
"But if magic really is disappearing," the boy began, "where is it going?"
"You see, that's the question I can't answer," she admitted.
Mose pondered again.
"I tried magic once, but it didn't work," he admitted. "Since then I've been using blood magic and runes. Do you think I'll ever be able to do a proper spell?"
Mose clearly was afraid of the answer, but he had to ask the question. He had to know.
"Words are the mere skeleton of magic. Not everyone uses them. I, for example, can do magic non-verbally," Lilinette explained. "All I meant to say was that the words you use to do magic are not necessarily the perfect words for others to use. The casting of magic is always unique and always different even if two mages use the same word."
"The other important thing is that you have to believe that what you are doing will work," she continued. "You have to be sure of what you are doing. If you are confident enough and know what you are doing, you will instinctively be able to use magic. In your case, a skeleton is essential because your magic is weak. The hardest thing is to find the words that can express what you want to achieve."
"You say my magic is weak," the boy echoed. "But how weak? What magic can I do?"
"The simplest," Lilinette replied. "To levitate objects, to summon them to you, or perhaps you could learn a simple flame spell or something."
"Okay, I guess I'll try something simple then..." said Moses thoughtfully.
"First, clear your mind, concentrate, and think of a word that can express your will," she said. "Then, when you feel ready, say it out loud and clearly. Remember, it's a command; it has to sound like a command."
Mose took a deep breath. "Here, book!" he said confidently.
The volume from the bookshelf suddenly flew into his hand. Moses' face flushed with shock and indescribable joy. Lilinette laughed mockingly.
"Really?" the mage asked mockingly.
Mose blushed in embarrassment, and Lilinette burst out laughing again. Mose was now completely flushed, but the corners of his lips curled upwards.
I smiled. "I am happy for you, buddy. Thanks for watching my back."
I exited the memory. When I opened my eyes, Simon was already gone.