Warlock Ch 12. A Walking Magic Magnet
"This... this is real, isn't it?" Damian asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Evelyn nodded. "Yes. Very real."
Damian let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. "And I'm supposed to live here now? In this... Magic City?"
Evelyn's eyes softened again, and she gave him a small, almost sympathetic smile. "It's not as bad as it seems. I know it's overwhelming right now, but you'll get used to it. This place has its dangers, sure, but it's also a sanctuary for people like us. A place where we can be ourselves."
Damian didn't know what to say. His mind was still spinning, trying to reconcile the normal world he had known with this dark, twisted version of Haven City. But no matter how hard he tried to deny it, the truth was staring him in the face. The eerie streets, the ancient buildings, the thick, pulsing energy in the air—it was all real. Too real. And there was no going back to the life he had before.
Evelyn watched him closely, reading the confusion, the fear, and the flickers of curiosity crossing his face. "We can still go back to the normal Haven City," she said, breaking the silence. "But we have to be careful. It's limited now for people like us."
Damian frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Limited? What do you mean?"
Evelyn sighed, glancing around at the dark, magical streets. "You're a warlock now, Damian. That changes things. In the normal city, your magic will attract attention, whether you want it to or not. You'll get tangled up with people who don't have magic, and... well, things don't mix so well when magic is involved."
Damian blinked, her words sinking in slowly. "So, I'm a walking magic magnet now? Great." He let out a shaky laugh, but it felt forced, the reality still too strange to grasp.
Evelyn gave him a grim look. "Think about the building we were in before. It should be destroyed by now."
Damian's heart skipped a beat. "Destroyed? What do you mean?"
She nodded, her expression serious. "Malthus's magic was meant to wipe that place off the map. If it had been full of people—if it had been your pub..."
Her words trailed off, but Damian didn't need her to finish. The thought of Malthus's magic tearing through the pub, his coworkers, the regulars—he shuddered, it hitting him hard. He couldn't imagine it. Couldn't even begin to think about what would have happened if there had been people inside.
"Luckily, it was abandoned," Evelyn continued, her tone softening. "But that's why we have to be careful. Magic leaves ripples. If we're not careful, those ripples will pull innocent people into our world. And they won't survive it."
Damian swallowed hard, the gravity of her words sinking in. This wasn't just about him anymore. The decisions he made, the places he went—they could have consequences far beyond anything he'd imagined. "So, what now?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "What do we do?"
Evelyn turned, gesturing for him to follow her. "We go to my house. You need rest—and a lot of explanations."
Damian raised an eyebrow, following her lead but still full of questions. "Your house? Why?"
"Because," she said, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and urgency, "you need a safe place to crash, and more importantly, you need to learn about this world—about what you are."
"A warlock," Damian said, as if repeating the word would help him wrap his head around it. "You said I'm a warlock."
Evelyn shot him a knowing glance. "A special warlock."
Damian frowned, the memory of the notification from his system flashing in his mind. "Warlock of Eternal Bonds?"
Evelyn smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Don't you want to know what that means?"
Damian's curiosity flared up, pushing past the confusion. He nodded, feeling like he had no other choice but to find out. "Yeah. I do."
They walked. Damian took in more of the strange world around them. The Magic City—this hidden part of Haven—felt like a different universe entirely. The streets were quiet but alive in a way that was hard to describe. It wasn't like the busy, chaotic energy of the normal city. Instead, it felt... heavy. The air itself seemed to hum with magic, thick and charged, like every building, every shadow held something ancient and powerful just beneath the surface.
The further they walked, the more Damian noticed how different everything looked. The buildings weren't just old; they were grand in a dark, gothic way. Towers rose high above them, their windows narrow and glowing faintly from within. Stone gargoyles perched on rooftops, their eyes seeming to follow him as they moved. Vines wrapped around iron gates and fences, blooming with strange, glowing flowers that pulsed with faint blue light. It was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous, like the city itself was watching them, waiting to see what they would do next.
"This place is unreal," Damian muttered, mostly to himself.
Evelyn glanced at him with a small smile. "It's real, alright. It's been here longer than you can imagine. Longer than the normal Haven City you know. This is where it all started."
They turned a corner, and suddenly, the street opened up into a small, quiet square. In the center, a stone fountain trickled softly, its waters glowing faintly under the moonlight. Around the square, the buildings were smaller, less imposing, but still radiating that same dark magic.
Evelyn led him toward one of the buildings—a tall, narrow house with a pointed roof and dark shutters. It didn't look like the kind of place a witch would live. In fact, it looked oddly normal compared to everything else they had passed.
Damian half-expected it to be some rickety, haunted-looking shack with potions bubbling in the windows and broomsticks propped against the door. Instead, it was neat, clean, and strangely modern—like something out of an upscale neighborhood, but with a darker, magical twist.
"Is this... your house?" Damian asked, glancing at her as they approached the front door.
Evelyn smirked. "What, expecting cauldrons and broomsticks?"
"Something like that," Damian admitted. "This... is not what I pictured."
She chuckled, unlocking the door and pushing it open. "Welcome to my humble home."