Chapter Twelve:

Somehow... Chowder was alive, and sitting in the kitchen. He didn’t dare take his eyes of Mr Goldwyn. He was doing his best to not even blink as he stared at Mr Goldwyn who was rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. He suddenly stopped and pulled out two mugs-

Was this psychopath actually making tea after he impaled his wife’s head? What the hell was happening...

Then suddenly he stopped and stared at Chowder, and again Chowder froze.

“Chowder. Why were you in my house?”

“I didn’t see anything...” Chowder pleaded, his voice started strong, but the desperation came. Then the fear. “I promise. I won’t ever say anything! Like dude, I have a family okay. I don’t wanna die! I-”

My Goldwyn stuck his hand out to stop him.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Chowder.” Mr Goldwyn said, in a stern but comforting voice. “But you have to calm yourself down. Assess the situation you’re in. Okay?”

Chowder nodded.

“Why were you in my house?”

“I forgot a school project here. It was in Jess’s room. I didn’t see your car here, so I thought you were still on your trip or something, so I got I climbed in through the window to get it. Look, I swear man-”

Again, Mr Goldwnyn simply held his hand out in annoyance.

“Okay. I believe you. Chowder.”

Suddenly both their heads flickered to the lounge as bright flames erupted over Jess’s mom’s body.

“What’s happening!” Chowder squealed, leaping of the chair but Mr Goldwyn gently pushed him back down to sit. Suddenly, the flames died away and Jess’s mother disappeared. The entire room had seen the flame, but nothing was burnt, even the blood had gone- even the blood on Mr Goldwyns knife was gone, it was just lying there on the counter glimmering.

What was happening? What was that? He glanced at Mr Goldwyn. What was happening.

Mr Goldwyn placed a mug of milo in front of Chowder.

“Drink it.”

Chowder didn’t take the cup.

“It’s not poisoned. Drink it.” Mr Goldwyn said, firmly. His eyes looked furious but his voice and everything in his body was steady.

Chowder nodded, and slowly took a sip. It was warm and sweet. He loved milo.

“Hot sweet drinks are good for shock.” Mr Goldwyn said. “You’re in shock now, Chowder. So I need you to calm yourself.”

Chowder blinked as his eyes stung.

“You want to know what just happened with the fire?” Mr Goldwyn asked.

Chowder didn’t want to meet his face. He kept his head down, peering into the milo, letting the steam warm his eyes. He took a sip- and didn’t stop. He drained the entire cup. And suddenly the warmth fell to his stomach and warmed his body from inside. Mr Goldwyn was right after all. Mr Goldwyn took the second mug from the microwave and placed it in front of Chowder. He could smell the sugar from here.

He took it just to have something warm in his hands.

“Do you know what that was just know?” Mr Goldwyn asked.

“Fire.” Chowder whispered.

“No. The woman. Do you recognise the woman?”

Chowder shook his head, but Mr Goldwyn nodded. He knew Chowder was lying.

“That,” he said. “Was a demon in the form of my wife.”

Before Chowder could respond, Mr Goldwyn started speaking. “Demons have always existed on Earth. They’re plagues. The first cancer to come. But, in balance to them Mages have existed.”

Just then Mr Goldwyn slowly raised his hand and little bolts of lightning crackled around his hand and singed his hair slightly. Then with the other he pointed it at the tap and the tap lifted again by that invisible force and water gushed out until it suddenly froze.

“I use elemental magic.” Mr Goldwyn said, lowering his arms again.

Chowder couldn’t believe anything Mr Goldwyn said or anything he saw, yet somehow, he wasn’t reacting. He must have burnt through all his adrenaline earlier. There was no way any of this could be real and yet somehow it was.

“You’re in shock.” Mr Goldwyn’s firm voice said. “It’ll be a while before all of this hits you.”

“I feel pretty hit now.” Chowder, said quickly in a slippery, uneven voice and Mr Goldwyn gave something of a small smile.

“If you want answers then ask.”

“Sorry.” Chowder said, trying to moisten his mouth. “Demons are real?”

“Yes.”

Chowder nodded.

“And just now the lightning... You can use magic?”

“Elemental magic. There are several more schools of magic.”

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“Is Jess a mage too?” Chowder asked suddenly. The question seemed obvious but he was only aware of it now.

Mr Goldwyn nodded. “He is. Magic ability passes through bloodlines. Families carry magic. Magical blood is outnumbered now almost a thousand fold so we live in secret. As betrayed as you would feel the existence of all magic is bound to secrecy by law… and sense.”

Chowder nodded. “Guess that’s fair. I mean I’m not taking this well, imagine if everyone else knew.” Chowder said nervously. The panic still hadn’t left him, he was switching between silence and endless ramblings. “So demons are real, and mages hide and go out and fight them.”

“A small portion of us do.” Mr Goldwyn said. “The magic population is high enough that we’re complete societies. We have our own societies, communities, towns, even two countries of solely mages. Outside of those countries we live within human ones. Some of us live amongst humans. As for demon hunting, the Keralian Magic Military also oversees that.”

Also... What else was there?

“There’s more than demons?” Chowder asked.

“Other mages.” Mr Goldwyn nodded, his voice darkening. “Criminals within our population or foreign threats… The mage population of different nations have always been at war.”

Chowder was shocked to see how relaxed he was becoming even though he was most likely about to die. So that thing just now was a demon. Mr Goldwyn was just killing a demon…

“My Goldwyn,” Chowder said, trying to be as respectful as possible. “Just now what was that? The fire.”

“That was the demon returning to hell. Its physical body died, so it couldn’t exist here anymore.”

“Why was it here?”

Mr Goldwyn, straightened himself and suddenly Chowder was aware of how terrifying Jess’s father actually was. When you saw him in a school playground or a nine-year-olds birthday party he just looked like some really brooding guy that most of the moms swooned over because he still hit the gym and didn’t wear the same shirt for nine years. But now… The muscles, the height, the sharpness in his movements, even the faded scars that lined his arms. This man was a killer.

Mr Goldwyn looked him straight in the eye before he spoke:

“Chowder, I hate women.”

Chowder flinched at the acid in his voice.

“I can’t stand them.” Mr Goldwyn said, leaning forward and gripping the table. “Not since my wife died. I can’t stand anyone anymore. I can’t enjoy a woman anymore, Chowder! But I want to. I feel like a eunuch. Today, I was weak… I wanted my wife again. I summoned a demon to take her form. And I felt sick seeing her memory used that way, I felt sick using it. But I feel like dying when I don’t see her... I can’t win, Chowder.”

“I don’t know…” Chowder muttered, and finally meeting Mr Goldwyn in the eye. “I mean if I could have a chance to see my dad then I would do the same.”

Mr Goldwyn seemed to straighten himself again, but his eyes were brighter.

“No. You wouldn’t.” He replied. “These things are forbidden for a reason.”

Chowder nodded.

Mr Goldwyn placed another hand on Chowder’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid.”

Chowder didn’t know how to respond and chose not to. But that comment made him feel just a bit warmer inside.

“Chowder, humans aren’t supposed to know of any of this.”

“Is something going to happen to me?” Chowder asked, knowing the worst was coming.

“Your memory would be wiped.”

Chowder nodded. No wonder Mr Goldwyn was being so vulnerable telling him all this. Chowder wouldn’t even remember it.

“But I can’t have that happen, Chowder." Mr Goldwyn said, taking Chowder by surprise again. "There’s only a few officials who can perform that spell. For your memory to be wiped a case would have to be opened for this. The Goldwyn family would be moved and reprimanded because of it. And Chowder, all this would happen even if all you saw me do was heat up some coffee by magic. If anyone found out something like that it would be… scandalous. I work very closely in the political office, as such my actions would be treasonous.”

“Look,” Chowder said. “I’ve known you guys my whole life. I- we’re like family. I’d never say anything. I wouldn’t even let Jess know that I know.”

“Can I trust you to keep that promise?”

“Yeah, man.” Chowder shrugged as casually as possible. A sudden urge to impress Mr Goldwyn was seeping in.

Mr Goldwyn simply nodded in response.

“Wait…” Chowder said, “Wizards have politics?”

“Very classist, very outdated.”

“Are you like a counsellor or something?” Chowder asked. “Like what do you do? Like is there a DMV or something?”

“I’m an Inquisitor.” Mr Goldwyn said, and something in the simple but dark way he said it sent a small chill down Chowder’s spine. “Inquisitors are independent agents; our job is to find and stop demons and illegal activities.”

“So, you’re like a cop.”

“We have a military force not a police force. I’m not a part of the military.” Mr Goldwyn said. “Inquisitors answer only to the King. We work independently as researchers, assassins, detectives. Whatever is needed to do our job.”

Holy crap. Mr Goldwyn is some X-files, men in black guy- no wonder he’s so afraid of getting caught out for summoning the demon.

“So- uh.” Chowder said quickly trying to change the subject in case wizards could read minds. “So this Bagtins place, that’s a wizards school? Like Hogwarts?”

“Safer than Hogwarts.” Mr Goldwyn said. “Not as many chambers or secrets.”

Um. Chowder said that as a panicked joke, he didn’t expect a real answer. Much less a joke!

Mr Goldwyn smiled. “Harry Potter is really popular in the wizarding world.”

“Wait, J.K Rowling’s a witch!”

“Unfortunately not.”

Chowder laughed. “So, how long will Jess be gone for?”

Mr Goldwyn moved suddenly and Chowder flinched, but Mr Goldwyn was just taking his cup to the sink.

“Mr Goldwyn.” Chowder said.

He didn’t answer but started washing the dishes.

“I- uh. Guess I should leave now.” Chowder said, nervously.

“I think you should.”

Jess almost slipped off his chair. Why’d this guy have to do that? A second ago Mr Goldwyn was joking but now he was just… Making himself a cup of coffee.

“I’ll see you again sometime then.” Chowder said, feeling his back sweating again.

“Chowder.” Mr Goldwyn said, turning back to him and drying his hands with a dishcloth. “I would love to have you stay and answer your questions. I know you have more. But unfortunately I have work.”

“Oh, yeah of course me too! Tons of work!” Chowder said, his verbal diarrhea still showing no signs of stopping.

Mr Goldwyn stared at him.

“When Jess gets back you can have him answer your questions.”

“Is this like a test thing?” Chowder blurted out. “Because like I said like I’m not gonna say anything. I’m not. Like FBI, Men in Black no one’s getting anything out of me.”

“Chowder,” Mr Goldwyn said in warning vice to end Chowder's rant. “You were right. You are family. If it ever comes up how you found out about us… Then you saw me heating up coffee.” Mr Goldwyn said, toasting with his mug of coffee.

“I- yeah. Coffee.”

Mr Goldwyn nodded. “Good luck with your work, Chowder.”

Chowder nodded and closed the door behind him. He heard the door click and the sun seemed to blind him a little. Everything was so normal outside. The world still seemed to be moving.

Chowder was lost in his thoughts all the way home, not even realising he still didn’t get the presentation from Jess’s room. But that didn’t matter now. The biography had just taken a wild turn.

Chapter:

Jacob Goldwyn watched as the boy left his house.

He closed the window blinds again and turned back to the imp demon he summoned. Where most of their kind were renowned for their malice and cunning, imps were mocked for their stupidity. But it would be enough. Imps were weak enough that their work would be undetectable and unsuspected when the boy’s death become known.

Jacob Goldwyn stared the shaking Imp into stillness before he spoke to it:

“Kill the boy that was here. Make sure it looks like an accident.”

“Kill…” the imp repeated in its hoarse cancerous voice, as it’s minuscule body writhing in giggles.

The imp left the house screeching and laughing as it went.

It was distasteful that the boy needed to die. But the boy needed to die to preserve Jacob's reputation reputation. Time was running out for the wizarding world and nothing would stop Jacob Goldwyn from saving it.