His eyes opened slowly. The light from electrical lamps from within the church hurt his eyes, the artificial light bright and invasive. Although his eyes hurting was the least of his pains.
His entire body ached, his real, physical body, and his immaterial magic circuits. A dull pain coursed through his body, as if his nerves had been burned and were left to develop scars. Liam jumped up at the horrible thought-but that only made it worse.
“Fuck!” He hissed quietly as he sat up in the pew. Once the sudden pain subsided he dove inside himself, inspecting his circuits inside his mind. They certainly looked worn, but he couldn’t see anything that would constitute permanent damage. Liam gave a small sigh of relief as he looked down at his makeshift bed. Someone had placed rolled up a black coat underneath his head and placed him there. While he had his suspicious as to who it was, he couldn’t find the woman anywhere. He instead saw an old man in the pew across from him in the right section.
He sat with his head tilted downwards, back arched forward and hands clasped together. He almost thought the man was praying. He was noticeably old, with the only hair upon his head being gray and flowing from the lower section of his skull. Blemishes across his cheeks apparent even through the mass of wrinkles, gained from years of physical existence.
When he opened his eyes is when Liam’s heart dropped. Dark, almost crimson eyes peered at him as the man tilted his head ever so slightly. A toothless smile grew on his face.
‘He’s one of them.’ His blood picked up instantly, his heart pumping faster and faster to carry the necessary oxygen to his flesh and brain, preparing them for flight. Liam scrambled in the uncomfortable wooden seat. He stumbled backwards in a crawl, almost slipping off the seat.
“Stop.” The old stranger commanded. It was devoid of magical power, and no spell followed the word, but it had a different power. One only a being who could be considered his ‘senior’ could wield. Pure authority. The man didn’t wield it harshly, however, but gently, applying just the right amount of force.
Liam found it hard to resist the command. This person was the first being he had seen for the entire day that didn’t look dangerous. He had a warmth within him that all the magi he met lacked. Liam slowly lowered his feet to the floor and sat correctly, but keeping his doubt close.
“Who are you?” He asked quickly. The strangers smile weakened as if he was personally damaged by the question, but a chuckle began to rise from his vessel.
“No, I shouldn’t expect you to remember me. We only met when you were but a baby.” The old man spoke more to himself than Liam. He stood from his seat slowly, his body resisting his efforts to move. The man wore a white, professional dress-shirt, with a smooth black tie running down the center. His black slacks paired well with the black coat he had placed under Liam’s head before.
“I’m your grandfather. And their father.” He spoke with a heavy accent Liam finally processed. But another packet of information made itself known his brain. Something very important. His head craned to the front entrance at the back of the church.
Two bodies laid on the ground in front of the double doors. A thin and large cloth covered both of them, allowing no remnant of the siblings to be shown to the world aside from their shoes.
Liam clutched his chest for a moment. But his breath didn’t quicken. His heart rate had returned to a normal pace. His eyes widened as they took in the information. Two corpses. Bodies of people who had been alive. Bodies he had stripped the life from.
Why didn’t he feel horrible?
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He did indeed feel horrible, but the fact he wasn’t breaking down frightened him more than the lifeless bodies behind him. ‘This happens.’ The thought sprung forth inside his mind. ‘This is the world of mages. It’s unavoidable.’ Only a somber feeling weighed upon him. Was that all that should be there?
A rustle behind forced his head back to the front of the church. His grandfather held a small trash bin in front of Liam. Upon seeing his lack of a reaction, he raised his eyebrow and merely set it on the floor before moving around to take a seat next to him.
“Seems you’ve integrated well into this world. Or at least, most of you.” He spoke slowly as he noted Liam’s internal confusion. “If it’ll alleviate you any, I don’t have a grudge against you.”
Liam watched the old man with confused eyes, remaining silent.
“I warned them, even. A child from our blood wouldn’t roll over dead so easily.” This time the man let out a hearty laugh, the sound resonating and bouncing along the white walls of the church. The sun had completely vanished now. All that was left was a black sky outside.
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“-besides.” He continued once his fit calmed down. “I have my own theory about the supposed ‘hidden philosophy key’. You see, your mother didn’t particularly care for us very much.” The old man’s smile resurfaced as he faced Liam.
“In my opinion, the tale of a hidden key was just a lie to torture us.”
The boys’ heart sunk further. He turned away from his grandfather and gave a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands. His back arched now, leaning forward.
“So they died because of some made up story.” He muttered to himself.
“All mages do eventually. They may perish at along some side story, but they all chase after the same fantasy.” His relative smiled wider as Liam understood what he was suggesting. The true goal of all real magi. The Spiral of the Root.
It was one of the very first things he learned when he came to the Clock Tower. It was the location from which all phenomena sprang forth. It was what allowed magecraft to exist, as well as all the other supernatural phenomena magi made use of, and even the mundane. All mages strived to create a path to the Root, to take hold of True Magic. Magic not bound to the natural laws and restrictions of the World and science-Magic that could achieve the impossible, the miraculous. Only five individuals had succeeded in their quest over the 2,000 years that magecraft existed.
“You don’t think the Root exists?” The boy asked, his face mirroring his confusion. He couldn’t comprehend the image of a magus not believing in their sole goal.
“Do you know what most compare the Root to?” He responded with his own question, much to Liam’s chagrin. He shook his head just to get the man to continue.
“Nothingness. The all came from Nothingness. The void before all creation. It is impossible to comprehend-to hold and see within your mind. It is unknowable, so mages call it what they think it should be. In essence, they’re chasing after their own story. The label they place upon it to make it comprehensible, which only brings them further from the Truth.” His grandfather shook his head, as if disappointed with the whole of magi on the planet.
Liam nodded at his relatives words. It felt less like a conversation with a magus and more of a conversation with his grandpa. If he didn’t know any better, he would assume this man wasn’t a mage at all.
A long silence remained between them after he spoke. Liam himself wondered how long it would last-but it soothed him more than he would have thought. He knew it wouldn’t last. After an unknown amount of minutes he gently took hold of the jacket at his side and handed it to his grandfather. The man nodded, giving a silent ‘thank you.’ The gift seemed to trigger a memory within him, however, as he turned away from Liam.
“As a peace offering, I wish to give you this.”
The man held a small glass containing a bright green fluid. A small fleshy sphere floated within the container. Liam’s own eyes widened as he saw the eye inside.
It was one of his Aunt’s eyes. A Mystic Eye of Enchantment.
“Now, I understand you may find this revolting, so allow me to inform you.” The man spoke as he placed the container between them. “With this Mystic Eye, you can sell it for a small fortune rather easily. While these type aren’t by any measure impossible to acquire, they are most certainly rare. Mei herself got them when she hunted down a Dead Apostle.” He explained.
“However, if you choose to have them implanted, it will assuredly cost a large fortune. But that is your choice.”
Liam nodded as he gingerly picked up the glass with his thumb and middle finger. The eye with golden irises spun slowly within the preserving fluid, lifeless and without a body.
“Thank you.” He said, trying his hardest not to grimace. The old man nodded as he stood up.
“However, I don’t doubt that your mother had some secrets hidden away somewhere. I just don’t think she’d ever let us get a hold of them.” He said with the same smile, as if he would expect nothing less of his daughter. “She was a truly brilliant mage. You should talk to her some time.”
The suggestion that his mother’s consciousness might still be around certainly shocked Liam, but it quickly subsided. It wasn’t something incredibly special, and if she was as good of a magus as he thought, it would be typical. The boy nodded again in gratitude as the old man gave him a small wave of goodbye, folding his jacket over his sleeved arm. As he approached the exit of the church, Liam found himself calling back to him.
“I think you’re wrong. About the Root.”
His grandfather stopped and turned back to the boy with a curious look. It was then that Liam noticed the surprisingly low amount of wrinkles on the man’s face.
“Souls originate from the Root. If they create an idea of what the Root truly is, shouldn’t a sliver of Truth remain in it?” He asked, confused why he was asking and not just explaining. His grandfather laughed the same hearty laugh he had a few minutes ago before continuing back to his children. Some invisible force gathered up the bodies upon his command.
And just like that, the man left without a response. Placing the eye slowly into his pocket, Liam followed his example.
- -
He pushed open the door to the Tohsaka residence, half expecting some sort of spell to send him flying into the stratosphere. No such spell came, so he continued onwards.
Liam walked at a snails pace. His legs were sore beyond recognition, and it had taken him almost an hour just to walk from the church to the home. Slowly, using the wall next to him as support, he slipped off his shoes and continued onward.
Rin sat at the only table that wasn’t a pile of rubble now, sipping some sort of liquid from an ornate, white cup. It was almost certainly tea, but he was never quite sure.
“That old bat certainly kept you for a while.” She said, not-so-subtle hints of animosity lining her voice. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”
Liam shook his head. His hand clutched the glass container in his pocket, fidgeting with it constantly. Rin simply nodded, satisfied, and placed down her teacup.
“How’s your arm? I tried to heal it as much as I could.”
He looked down to his previously paralyzed arm. He hadn’t even noticed that he could move it now, or that there wasn’t a burnt hole within the flesh. Liam nodded again,
“Good as new. Didn’t even notice.”
Rin raised one thin eyebrow as she glared at the boy. She crossed her arms over her thin white button down, crossing her legs. “What’re you so happy about?”
He raised a hand to his face. He felt a smile he hadn’t felt for a while.