Olvira walks in behind me, leaving her prisoners in the yard. I lead her to the couch, where she sinks down to sit her weight on her heels, crouching on the pads of her feet. Vithar slides right back out the door to stay out of sight on the porch and Mom stands next to me, watching the wizard. Olvira checks Anna's vitals, feels her forehead and her breathing. Seeming convinced that Anna is, in fact, alive, she stands back up.
“Did you tell them she was not dead?” she asks.
“They didn't give me a real chance. They just destroyed my door and attacked. I tried to reason with them first,” I say, looking out the door. “Well, I tried to reason with them after I kicked the leader off my porch.”
Olvira acknowledges my testimony with a nod. She waves her hands and speaks in a low tone. When she does this, my ears pick up the energy and mom tenses beside me. I instinctively put a bubble of negating energy around us. Olvira glances at me sidelong while finishing up her spell and frowns. Once she completes it, I watch as the splinters and chunks of my door rebuild themselves. Our eyes meet, and I smile sheepishly. It is an involuntary impulse to put up a defensive bubble around us. It’s becoming second nature to use my ability, but I think it hurt her feelings. We have been so cordial with each other in the past–even though she did surprise me the first time we met by knocking me on my ass–and now I basically showed her that I still don't trust her. Not much I can do about it now. I hope she understands that, while she and I aren't contentious, others from the guild would not be anything but hostile toward me. For that reason alone, I don't fully trust her.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was just attacked by wizards.”
She shrugs in response. “Can you wake her?” she asks, looking over at Anna.
“I have no idea,” I say with a shrug of my own. “She didn't wake when the door blew in or when we were fighting. I don't know if she's unconscious or if she's just exhausted. I suppose she could be both.”
“What have you tried?”
“To be honest? Nothing. We figured she needed to sleep, so we let her.”
“I feel it would be wise to wake her. Just to make sure everything,” she swirls her finger around the crown of her head, “is alright.”
“Yeah, you may have a point,” I say, in agreement.
“You said her name is Anna?” she asks.
“Yeah, want me to do it, or you?”
She thinks for a moment, then responds. “Are you familiar with her?”
If Olvira were a demon and asking this, 'familiar' would mean one of two things. It would mean either friends who only occasionally stab each other in the back–and this is actually looked upon favorably in some circles–or lovers of a sort. Fae, or fairy-folk, also conflate familiarity with 'the physical act of love,' but I don't mess with Fae. No one should mess with the Fae if they can help it. Anna and I have not been familiar in either sense, but we were work friends that could have been more.
“Somewhat, yes. We were coworkers and… friends?”
“Good, then perhaps you should wake her.”
“Sounds reasonable,” I say.
I put my hand on her shoulder, shaking it gently back and forth.
“Anna,” I say lightly. “Hey, wake up.”
She snores loudly, and her eyes move under her lids. I look at Olvira, who gives me a 'can we speed this up' expression with hand gestures. Grabbing her shoulder again, I shake a little harder. She snores so loud that she wakes herself up with it. Her eyes open wide in the fearful immediate “where am I?” look that people get when they are getting some deep sleep and are startled awake. She moves away slightly and pushes herself into a sitting position, staring at the three of us standing over her.
“Hey, you're good,” I say, backing up and raising my hands in surrender. She puts her hand to her face to rub away a small amount of drool at the side of her mouth then checks her hair. A few fly aways stick up at odd angles, but she smooths it down.
“Hey, Mike. Uh, what's up?” she asks. She flexes her muscles in a small stretch and pulls her arms in, making herself smaller. She is still visibly groggy and seems wary of why we are standing around her.
“How do you feel?”
“I'm okay, how are you?” she asks.
I assume she means my red, swollen, and bruised face, but I'm also not sure she fully grasps what I am asking. I give her a second more to fully wake up. I look at mom and Olvira, then back to Anna. She follows my gaze before we turn back to each other. “Did I do something? Am I in trouble?” she asks.
“No, you were having some trouble and we tried to help you,” I say. “We're not sure yet if it worked. How's your head?”
Her eyes dart between us again before she directs them to the floor. She puts a hand to the side of her head carefully, then runs both hands across her face.
“I feel like I've been sleeping for a long time. My head hurts, but it feels like it's getting better? Does that make sense?” she asks.
“It definitely does with what happened to you,” I say. “This is Olvira,” I gesture to the wizard. “She's a friend of mine and a, uh, a professional. She's going to do some quick cognitive tests. Are you okay with that?”
Anna glances at her skeptically. She leans toward me and whispers in my ear. “My memory is kind of fuzzy. Did I have another episode?”
“Episode?”
“Yeah, my therapist said they're normal, but I didn't hurt anyone, did I?”
Her therapist said that was normal too? I have got to meet this person. I understand that normalizing certain issues in specific scenarios is a practice of some therapists, but this is getting ridiculous.
“Can you tell me what you remember?”
She looks down with a creased brow and her eyes make little movements back and forth. Luckily, they don't cloud over.
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“Honestly? A bunch of stuff that doesn't seem real,” she says, still looking deep in thought. “I remember all the things I told you about earlier. That was earlier, right?” .
“Yes, earlier,” I agree. “Can you trust me to let Olvira test your faculties?” I ask. Anna's jaw flexes as she eyes the wizard apprehensively. “Hey,” I say to get her attention. “No more magic, just some questions, all right? Then you and I can talk more.”
Some of the insecurity drains from her expression. “Okay,” she says.
Olvira comes over again and sits on the couch next to her. I meet eyes with mom and motion toward the porch with a flick of my head. She gets the message. As I stand, Anna grabs my hand.
“Wait, where are you going?” she asks.
“I'm just going out to the porch. I'll still be right here, you can see me from the doorway.” She holds on for another moment before her grip loosens. I hold for a moment longer before letting go. “I promise.”
“You're in a safe place here,” Olvira says, speaking softly. Anna turns her gaze to the wizard. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks as I exit the door.
Mom follows as I walk out, and we step around Vithar, who is leaning on the railing.
“Hey, man. You okay?” I ask him.
“Sure,” he deadpans. “Just great.”
Mom leans on the railing next to me. She studies the captives in the yard and Vithar's eyes have remained on them as well. The wizards still sit, bound inside the half cube of shiny black stone. There is a hard look on his face that I don't think I have ever seen; it doesn't fit him. He is normally aloof with an awkward, goofy energy. I am realizing now how much of an act it has been. Not an act, but armor. It's his way of disarming people, his social lubricant. 'Everyone is comfortable around a fool' is how he described it to me. I am not sure if I believe that, but I don't have a basis for comparison, so who knows who is right.
“I'm having a bit of a crisis,” he says.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “I'm familiar with those myself.”
Vithar gives a bitter laugh and finally pulls his eyes away to look at me. “Yeah, I suppose you are.”
He sighs and clears his throat.
“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” he says, his gaze falling to the ground. I stay silent. “It's even in our induction. We are the ones who protect those who can't protect themselves. Protect them from what we were told you were.”
His expression turns guilty and his eyes flick up at me briefly.
“Yeah,” I say exhaling.
Mom puts her hand on my back briefly, stepping behind me. I hear her footsteps on the stairs as she walks down into the yard. I turn away from him and lean down, resting my forearms on the porch railing. He does the same. We share a moment of silence as we stare at the scene in my front lawn.
“I'm–”
“I don't think that way anymore,” he says, interrupting my thought.
“No?” I ask after a pause. That's not where I was going, but it seems like he has something he needs to say.
“No. I've seen enough in the past year. You try to help people everyday. At first I thought you were an outlier. Someone who was different. But now I see this,” he says, gesturing to the yard. Mom is pacing around the three and staring at their bindings. Their eyes follow her as they fume in silence. “Everyone has their own choices to make. No being is bad just because others like them have been. It's only coming to me now that that's literally the path to racism and xenophobia,” he finishes.
I grunt in agreement. He and Eph have both said the same things recently.
I open my mouth to tell him about it, but close it again. There is a high pitched ring building up in my ears. It sounds like someone is casting. I look over at Vithar, and he is just leaning on the rail. Out in the yard, mom has stopped pacing, and she is looking intently at the captives.
“There's something wrong here,” she says, turning to us.
I glance inside at Olvira to make sure that she is not breaking my promise to Anna by using magic. I am relieved to see that she is still speaking softly to Anna, but her head snaps in my direction. She surges to her feet and runs toward the door. The ringing increases when she starts casting while moving and I turn back to the yard to see the three wizards that are now convulsing and seizing. A sizzling and popping sound issues from them as a runic symbol burns into the flesh of their foreheads. Cracks of light spread across their bodies and they begin to swell and bulge. Olvira rushes forward, continuing her spell at a hurried pace. The onyx half-cube shifts and starts to close again just as the leader of the trio bursts into flames. His dying scream is drowned out by the gouts of fire released from his body.
The cube seals shut just as the other two captives follow in their leader's demise. The onyx box bows out and begins to fracture, unable to contain the blaze within. The fractures snake across the facade of the black stone, increasing in size in the wake of the unyielding pressure from within. The light of the fire shines through before waves of intense heat begin spilling out. Olvira moves forward, the energy she is pouring out is making my senses anxious–and I am thankful for it. I would just be watching in a stupor if she wasn't casting. The archwizard looks so strained, trying to contain it, but then Vithar and mom join in.
Their magic repairs the fractures, but more form in other spaces, the cycle repeating over and over again. Their magic doesn't seem to be enough to stop its inexorable spread. Mom backs off and screams something to Olvira, who nods. I heard 'have him,' but couldn't hear the rest over the roar of the cube bursting like an erupting volcano. The cracks on the sides continue repairing, but the top of the cube is opened to vent the destructive energy. Olvira makes upward sweeping hand gestures and the top extends, helping to funnel the contents up, but it still threatens to pour out and into the yard. I may be close to fireproof, but as far as I know, I am not lava proof. And those around me, my house and my neighbors, aren't either. Plus, who knows if this is even normal fire. I don't know where this energy is coming from, but we have to stop it.
Mom looks at me and yells, but I still can't hear her with the ringing of magic and the roaring of the blaze rising up from its confinement. She gestures with her arms, making a half circle and raising it. Her pantomime helps me understand that she wants me to void the magic in the area. The ability still feels weak, but I have to try. It pulses out in small waves, but peters out quickly when I do. It feels like there is more to give, but the only thing I am getting is droplets or dribbles. There is movement in my periphery and I instinctively look. Anna has stepped through the doorway and is staring dumbfounded at the cube with its molten energy spilling out of the top. She goes wide-eyed and puts a hand to her mouth.
“Run!” I yell at her.
She looks at me, and I gesture, telling her to go. Much to my relief, she does. She runs into my backyard, out of sight.
Though it can be used by my demon, the void energy within me is not tied to my demonic abilities. It has its own reserves and limits. Sometimes it seems like it has its own personality. In the past, I have overused it. Now and then, it doesn't react at all when I try to draw on it. Sometimes it feels almost like it is reprimanding me or punishing me when I ask too much of it. If it is necessary, I will take whatever punishment it decides to mete out if I can stop this. I reach within, pleading with it to give me everything. As I plead and pour more of my will into the void, it returns with all the force of a dam bursting. The power pulses out in thick, semi-translucent waves of starry black energy with a strength I have never felt before. It encompasses me while the constant pulses spread in wild arcs, rolling across the yard resembling magnetic fields. The magic my mother, Vithar, and Olvira are using is destroyed when the flood of my energy covers them. The sudden nullification causes the onyx cube to weaken again, and it shatters, pouring the scorching contents into the yard.
Once the waves of my bubble expand past it, the blaze disappears. It keeps spreading, consuming the lava-like energy expelled from the corpses of the three wizards. It meets the illusory barrier that was encircling my property and shatters it with little effort and makes the scene in my yard visible to anyone who is looking. I try to cut off the deluge but it keeps pulsing out from me. It arcs and pulses wildly in waves spilling from me like I cranked a spigot too hard and broke the handle off.
Olvira attempts to push against it, but falls to her knees as her salt and pepper hair turns shock white. Her skin starts to spot and wrinkle with age in an instant and she starts to look much like the illusion she put forth when I first met her. My eyes search for the others and land on Mom when rushes to me and puts her hands on either side of my face. I search for Vithar but she pulls my gaze to focus on her. Alarmingly, she also looks to be aging rapidly in front of me. Locking eyes with me, she starts chanting. There is a hum from within me, and it feels like my thudding heart is stopping.
“Mom, I can't stop it,” I say. I can barely hear my own words as combating forces whirl around me. It continues to spread from me, the waves increasing in output. She closes her eyes and puts her forehead to mine. I hear her voice in my head, but her lips never stop moving in the chant.
“I've got you, honey,” her voice says. “Sleep.”
My vision goes black.