08:098:14:10:24
08:098:14:10:23
08:098:14:10:22
“Are you excited, Mal?” His father said. Mal looked up at his father. He was a tall man, but he seemed short, surrounded by the shining buildings of downtown Los Angeles. He had a goofy grin on his face. Mal knew that was the grin he used when he was trying to make him feel better. But Mal wasn’t scared, just a little nervous.
Mal nodded, but reached out to take his father’s hand as they crossed the busy crosswalk. His father’s warm hand wrapped around his own. It felt nice. The light on the far side changed from the nice walking man to an angry flashing hand. Mal did not like the angry flashing hand. He sped up, hurrying to get across.
“We’re heading to that building,” his father said. He pointed to a tall skyscraper only a few dozen yards away. The morning sun gleamed off of the reflective windows of the building, casting spots of light on the concrete sidewalk. “Can you see what that sign says, Mal?”
“George Everett Building,” Mal read aloud. “Is that where you work, Dad?”
“That’s right,” his father said, “All the way at the top.”
“Who’s George Everett?” Mal asked as they walked towards the building. His father had to pull him aside so a man yelling at his phone didn’t bump into them. Mal found that adults liked to yell at their phones a lot.
“I don’t really know,” his father said. “Maybe he built the building.”
A lie. Mal could always tell when he was lied to, and his father lied to him a lot. But that was okay because his mom always said when his father lied to him it was for two reasons: because he loved him and wanted to protect him, or because he wasn’t allowed to talk about it. Mal didn’t really get it, but he trusted his mom, even if she was lying when she told him that.
“Office of Extranormal Affairs,” Mal read when they approached the doors of the building. There was a sign out front that listed all the offices. “That is all the way at the top.”
“That’s where I work,” his father said, “Let’s go inside.”
The building had the doors that Mal liked, that rotated instead of swung or slid. Mal ran forwards and pushed on them, spinning around a full rotation before tumbling out after his dad.
The inside of the building was just as shiny as the outside. Everything was clean. The windows let the morning light in, reflecting off the floors and brightening the room. The floors were made from black tile and shone like they had just been waxed. A man behind a big metal desk looked up as they entered. He was old and crooked, like a sea star that had been in the sun too long. He gave Mal’s father a friendly half grin and wave.
“A bit late today, eh Oscar?” The man said. His voice was like a wind blowing through a withered old tree.
“It’s bring your family to work week,” his father said with a wave of his own, “I had to wait for the little rascal to get ready.”
The man leaned over the big desk to get a better look at Mal. “So that’s the lil’ bugger. Are ya gonna help your daddy at work today, son?”
Mal grabbed his father’s hand again and took a step away from the wrinkly man. His father laughed, “Sorry, Albert, Mal’s a bit shy.”
“That’s alright,” Albert, the gnarled man said. “My boy was just like that at his age.” He took a step back and flopped into his chair. “Have a good day, Oscar.”
“Thanks Albert, you too.” Mal’s father tugged gently on his hand, leading him to the elevators. There was one waiting on the ground with the doors wide open. “Do you want to push the button, Mal?”
Mal nodded.
“Number forty-two,”
Mal looked at the array of buttons in the elevator. Forty-two was all the way at the top. He jumped to press it, hitting forty-two, forty-three, and thirty-four in the process.
“Oops ,” Mal said.
“That’s okay, Mal,” his father said, “Just one extra stop before we get to our floor.”
“Extra like extranormal,” Mal said. “What does that mean?”
“Extra normal are things that are exceedingly normal,” his father said with a smile. “But extranormal is when things are not normal.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Just a bit of adult humor, your mom would have liked that.” Lie. “But enough of my funny jokes. You’ve learned about the Great Merge, right Mal?”
Mal nodded. They learned about it in school. He didn’t like talking about it though. Whenever the teacher brought it up, everyone in class gave him funny looks.
“Well, when we say extranormal, we mean we deal with everything strange that has happened since then.” His father explained.
“Like me,” Mal said. He looked down at his hands. Like the rest of his body, his hands were red. It was like someone had taken his father’s skin tone and left it under the sun for so long it just stayed that way.
“And your mother. And you sister.” His father said, “Anyone with a bit of Eten blood who lives in the US. And anything that came with them.”
“Like magic?” Mal felt his eyes go wide. Was it a magic office?
“Like magic,” his father confirmed, “There’s an entire department that just looks at magical creatures all day.”
Mal shifted his weight back and forth. His mother and sister could do magic. They used it when talking all the time. Maybe after visiting the magic office he would be able to do it too! The elevator dinged open and Mal almost sprinted out the door, but his father grabbed his arm , yanking him back inside.
“Whoa there, buddy, not our floor remember?”
Mal looked away, embarrassed. He should have remembered. He pressed the button after all. Mal waited for the elevator to ding again and walked out onto the correct floor with his father. The first thing he saw was a wall that read, “Department of Extranormal Affairs” in big white letters on a gray background. There was a stylized image of a fire beside the big letters and a flag hanging limp on the wall beside it. Beneath the words was a reception desk with a plump woman sitting at it.
“Good morning Theresa,” his father said to the woman.
“Good morning Mr. Thomas,” she gave his father a smile and then noticed Mal. She gasped. “Oh my gosh! Is this your baby boy?”
“I’m not a baby,” Mal said. He did not like the fat woman.
“Oscar, he’s adorable!” Theresa squealed, ignoring or not hearing Mal’s comment. “Look at his skin! It’s gorgeous.”
Gorgeous? Maybe Theresa wasn’t so bad.
“Eeleei says his clarity is very good,” his father said, giving Theresa a proud smile, “I’m not totally sure what it means, but Eeleei seems happy with it so I am as well.”
Mal knew what it meant. High clarity was good. Better than his sister’s lower clarity skin, and much better than his mother’s cloudy brown.
“I love it, whatever it means.” Theresa beamed at him. “And his little ears! I love the little points. Is that normal for half-Eten to have?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” his father said, batting Mal’s hand away from his ears as Mal attempted to cover them. “The only half-Eten I have met are Mal and his sister. They both have their mother’s ears.”
“It’s too cute,” Theresa said, giving Mal another bright smile. She shook her arms together in front of her in an excited wiggle. “You have to bring your daughter next year, Mr. Thomas.”
“That’s the plan.” His father took his hand again. “Let’s go into the office, Mal. I can introduce you to everyone.”
Mal followed his father to the door bedside the reception desk. His father tapped a keycard against the and the door buzzed open. Mal slipped through the door before his father, excited to see the magic office.
The office had a series of desks all in a row. Each desk had two monitors on it and a computer to the side. Tall windows let light spill onto the floor from the morning sun and people moved about the place at a relaxed pace.
“So, what do you think?” His father asked from behind him.
“Where’s the magic?” Mal said. The computers weren’t even magical. Even his mother had a magic computer and she worked at the library.
His father laughed. “Just because we deal with magic, doesn’t mean we get magic. The federal government is way too cheap to give us anything good.” His father took his hand again. “Come on, let me show you around.”
Mal didn’t want to anymore if there wasn’t going to be anything magical, but he followed his father anyway. It wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter.
‘Show him around’ really meant showing him off. Mal should have guessed. It was always the same with grownups. Whenever he went to a new place, it was always to meet people who wanted to see him, but he never got to see people he actually wanted to meet. Meeting new people came with the same usual questions as well.
“What’s your name?”
Malenthiar Thomas. It was important for first introductions to always contain your full name. Mom said so.
“What do you want to do when you integrate?”
I donno.
“Are you excited about integration?”
Yes.
“How long until integration for you? Only a couple of years, right?”
Mal actually had to check for that one. He glanced at the ticking clock in the right hand corner of his vision.
08:098:13:58:14
“Eight years, ninety-eight days, thirteen hours, fifty-eight minutes and fourteen seconds.” Mal said.
By the end of the questions, everyone always agreed that he was very handsome or cute or smart or whatever word they said before they started talking to him, even if some of them lied about it. When his father finally stopped at an empty desk and started to work, Mal was already bored with the office and its occupants. He wanted to go home and play in the park. Or with his sister. Or anything. He didn’t tell his dad that though. Instead, Mal busied himself by watching the people on the streets below the office. That only helped a little though, the tiny people weren’t doing anything interesting at all, so Mal tried to listen to the conversations around the office. He had good ears, even if they were pointed, and could hear what almost everyone was saying, even if they whispered.
Most people were talking about nothing special. Reports and email and whatever a spreadsheet was. Some things were more interesting though. Mal focused on one conversation coming from the back of the room.
“I can’t believe we let a godforsaken elf into the office,” an old man’s voice was saying. Mal recognized the voice. It was from one of the people who had lied when they said he was cute. “Bad enough that he's married to one, now there’s one running around making everything filthy.”
“Marko! That’s a terrible thing to say!” A woman’s voice scolded. Mal thought it was Lisa. He remembered because she gave him a hug and had extremely large breasts. It had been terrible, he couldn’t breath at all.
“Of course you’d say that, you’re a damn elf lover yourself.” Marko grumbled.
“You can’t say that, Marko!” Lisa insisted, “I’m going to talk to Trisha.”
Marko muttered something Mal didn’t understand and the conversation ended.
Mal turned back to his father. He was staring at his computer screens, looking at a long list of names and numbers. “Dad?”
“What is it, buddy?”
“What’s an elf?”
His father tensed in his chair. He turned around slowly. He looked mad, but not mad in the way that meant Mal was in trouble. He looked mad in the way that meant he didn’t want Mal to know he was mad. His father came home like that sometimes after work and his mother would sing to him. Mal liked those times because his mother’s song always made him happy. But his mom was not here now.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Where did you hear that, Malenthiar?” His father only used his full name when he was serious. “Did you hear that at the office?”
Mal nodded, scared. “What does it mean?”
“It’s a bad word, Mal. Don’t ever say it. People use it to insult Etens.”
“Oh.” Mal was the elf. That meant his father was the elf-lover.
His father made a face that Mal had never seen before. He looked like someone had trampled on his soul. His father bent over and gave Mal a big hug. “Do you remember who said that, buddy?”
Mal hugged his father back. He didn’t know why he was getting hugged but it felt like the right thing to do. Maybe Dad needed a hug more than Mal.
“An old man named Marko.” Mal said.
“Okay,” his father broke the hug and got up out of his chair. “I’m going to go talk to someone, but you hang tight and I’ll be right back.” He lifted Mal up and sat him in his big chair. It was warm from his father sitting in it. “You can keep a lookout for me until I return.”
Mal did his best to keep a watchful eye out for his father, but got scared as he heard some people approaching the desk.
“I don’t get it, what’s so weird?” A young woman’s voice said.
“It’s an extranormal business license for a vampire lawyer,” a young man responded, “But he didn’t fill out the section that says whether his business serves extranormals or if it is run by an extranormal.”
“He doesn’t sound like a very good lawyer if he can’t fill out his registration paperwork.”
“I doubt he did it. Don’t lawyers have people for that?”
“Probably. So your question is whether a vampire lawyer is a lawyer who is a vampire or a lawyer who works for vampires?”
“Yes! You can’t just say you’re a vampire lawyer, it’s confusing.”
“Why don’t you call him and ask?”
“You can’t just call someone and ask if they’re a vampire. It’s rude. I think. It is rude, right Mr. Thomas?” A very nice looking young man stopped at his father’s desk, a surprised look on his handsome face. “Oh. You’re not Mr. Thomas.”
An even nicer looking young woman joined the man, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. “Riley, that’s rude. You’re scaring the poor boy. You have to introduce yourself properly.” She gave Mal a very pretty smile. “Hello young man, I am Nicole Anderson.”
Mal returned the smile. Because he wasn’t scared. He remembered the pretty woman, she had asked him what he wanted to do when he integrated. “Hello Nicole Anderson, I am Malenthiar Thomas.” Nicole was a name he had heard before. Dad said that was okay, but his mother made a face whenever it happened so Mal wasn’t sure what to believe.
Nicole turned to Riley, a look of expectation on her face. When he didn’t say anything she nudged him again in the ribs.
“Ah! Sorry. I’m Riley Beckett.” Riley said.
“Hello Riley Beckett, I am Malenthiar Thomas.”
“Er, right. You’re Mr. Thomas’s kid, huh?”
“Oh my god, Riley,” Nicole said. She sounded like Mal's mother did when his father told a joke. Nicole turned to Mal, “We are looking for Mr. Thomas, do you know where he is, Malenthiar?”
Mal shook his head, “He had to go talk to someone.”
“Well that’s okay,” Nicole said, “We can come back later. Nice meeting you, Malenthiar.” Riley looked like he wanted to say something, but Nicole led him away. “I can’t believe you,” Mal heard her whisper, “Don’t you know how you’re supposed to greet Etens? You work at the Department of Extranormal Affairs.”
“I barely paid attention in that training,” Riley whispered back. “What? I never thought I was going to run into one in the office.”
Mal watched the very nice looking pair as they walked away. They bickered the entire time, but to Mal it sounded like they weren’t really upset with each other. He returned to keeping lookout for his father and listening in on the office conversations. He heard one woman tell another that Eten’s were hot and the other agreed. Mal pressed a hand to his forehead like his mother did when he had a fever. He didn’t feel hot. Maybe it was because he was only half-Eten. He would have to check his mother when he got home.
He heard his father talking, but it wasn’t clear, which probably meant he was behind a closed door and far away. Mal usually couldn’t hear anything at all when someone was in a different room like that, so his father must have been talking very loudly. Mal stopped paying attention and tried to pick up something more exciting. He caught a few snippets of conversation, but much of it was meaningless to him.
A few minutes later, his father returned. He no longer looked secret-mad, now he only looked tired.
“A man named Riley Beckett and a woman named Nicole Anderson came here looking for you,” Mal reported upon his father’s return.
His father nodded, “I saw them on my way back. Did they treat you alright?”
“They were nice,” Mal said, “They kept looking at each other when the other wasn’t looking though.”
His father snorted, “Those two need to get over it already.” He sighed deeply. “What do you say about getting an early lunch, Mal? You up for a sandwich?”
“Okay.” Mal slid off his father’s chair and followed him out of the office.
“There is a place nearby that has a proper Eten chef,” his father told him. “And he runs a sandwich shop. Haven’t tasted food so good since I was posted in Canada.”
“Is it really run by an Eten?” Mal said.
“It is. Serves sandwiches with a little catch mat and everything.”
“Mom would like that.”
“She loved it. I took her when it first opened up, but we haven’t been back since. Maybe next time one of us has a day off, we can go again.”
His father led him out of the building and into the street, taking Mal by the hand again. The streets were more crowded than they were before and Mal had to be careful not to bump into anyone. They walked for only a few minutes, before his father led them into a small restaurant at the bottom of a huge skyscraper.
The restaurant was small and surprisingly empty for the number of people on the streets. An Eten man with cloudy brown skin stood behind a counter. The man was tall and thin, like many Eten were, with delicate features and pointed ears. He cried out in surprise when he saw Mal.
“I am Lentaer Pik,” he said in the Eten language. “Welcome to my restaurant, young man.”
“I am Malenthiar Thomas,” Mal responded in kind, “Thank you for providing me with the solush of your food.” Solush was a tricky word. His mother made him practice it over and over when he was first learning the language because it was important to a proper meal greeting. It meant kindness and generosity and nourishment all rolled up together with a bunch of other things. Mal was pretty sure he got it right.
He must have because Lentaer Pik beamed at him. “Come, come. Sit. I will bring you something delicious right away.” He pointed to an empty table indicating for Mal and his father to sit and be served, even though it wasn’t a restaurant that operated that way.
His father went to the table Lentaer pointed at. He had a bemused look on his face from the conversation he did not understand a word of. “The same thing happened when I brought your mother here,” he said. “I need to start bringing you two around with me more often.”
The food was served quickly, arriving without either of them actually ordering. Mal thanked Lentaer again for his solush and began to eat. The sandwich was delicious and the little catch mat did its job, catching any falling food before it could go to waste. When it came time to pay, Lentaer tried to wave his father away, but Oscar was insistent, placing the money firmly on the countertop and holding up the small line until Lentaer took it from him.
“That was really good,” Mal said when they finally left the restaurant, “Do you think he used magic?”
“I told you he was a proper chef, didn’t I?” Mal’s dad said, “I meant trained and everything. He definitely used magic.”
Mal nodded. That made sense. He could still feel the food warm in his belly. It was like it was giving him a happy hug. It was even better than his mother’s cooking, not that he would ever say so to her.
His father led him back through the crowded streets, heading towards the Department of Extranormal Affairs. The George Everett Building. Entering the shiny lobby once again, Mal heard a very loud man making a very loud noise.
“You can’t tell me to pass a test! I have rights!” A large, bald man was yelling at Nicole Anderson. He stood a full head taller than her and was slowly turning red as he screamed. He had on a plaid jacket that was too small for his bulging belly . it was so big it stuck out from underneath his shirt and spilled over his belt. Beside them, Albert was talking on the phone with one hand and covering his ear with the other.
“Whoa there buddy,” Mal’s father put a gentle hand on his chest, pushing Mal a step back. He looked over at the big man and Nicole. “Let’s keep out of that for now.”
“I just send the letters, sir,” Nicole said. She was being very brave, standing up to that man like that. She didn’t even look scared at all. She looked bored. “I don’t have any power to change what’s in them.”
The man ripped a big pair of sunglasses off his eyes. “My magic is protected by the Second Amendment of the United States of America. Have you even read the constitution? I don’t have to register my guns, so I shouldn’t have to register my magic either!”
“This is California, you absolutely have to register your guns,” Nicole said with a raised eyebrow. “I think there’s a worse punishment for that than there is for unregistered magic.”
“I am a sovereign citizen!” The man yelled, “I don’t have to listen to some department of fairies and freaks!”
Mal’s father bent down and picked him up. It was weird, because he almost never picked him up anymore. “You can cover your ears, buddy, I know you don’t like loud sounds.”
Mal nodded, but wrapped his arms around his father’s neck in a hug instead. That made him feel better than covering his ears ever would. Beside them, the revolving door turned and two police officers walked in, one after another. Both were as bald as the angry man, but neither had the funny facial hair he did.
The first officer through the door was a short man with dark skin. He looked like a blunt instrument wrapped in a blue uniform and wearing a fat vest. The second man was taller, but thinner. He had a hat on and was wearing the same kind of sunglasses the angry man had. Neither of the policemen said anything as they entered but the angry man noticed them anyway.
“Oh no, you’re not taking me!” The angry man was almost as red as Mal was now.
“Sir, step away from the woman!” The short officer said. He sounded like a dog barking. He didn’t stop moving towards the angry man, instead holding up his hand and making an aggressive motion with it.
“Get down on the ground!” The tall officer was holding a black baton now. “Put your hands behind your head!”
The angry man didn’t listen to either of them. Instead he made a face. Mal might have found it funny if he wasn’t so loud. It was all scrunched up and wrinkled. But it was what was happening with his hands that really caught Mal’s attention. They were glowing and flicking through the air so fast Mal couldn't follow their movement. The air rippled between the man and the police, turning it into a thick, viscous, blue substance. It hung in the air, collapsing in on itself, forming a giant shield.
“OFFENSIVE MAGIC!” The short officer screamed. He moved. Mal had seen people move like that before, on TV. The officer moved like the augmented athletes did, like the rules of the world forgot how they were supposed to work.
The officer shot forward, almost flying across the lobby as he charged the angry man. He hit the shield right in the middle and bounced away. The shield followed, wrapping the officer, the blue substance smothering him.
The second officer was also moving. He wasn’t as fast as the first, but to Mal he looked more graceful, like a deer bouncing through the forest. The angry man’s hands glowed again and a light started shining over the man’s head. It swirled in intricate patterns around his head, making a dizzying array of light and color. Mal was transfixed, the magic captivating him with its ethereal lights. He could almost feel it, the delicate balance of power and control. He reached for it with his hand. He could grasp it, just about.
Until the tall policeman hit the man.
The tall policeman crashed down into him with a vicious swing of his baton. The man dropped to the ground like someone had turned off his legs. The light disappeared from around his head and the thick shield dissolved around the other officer. Both officers jumped on top of the now sleeping man and began kneeling on him and shouting at the same time. They hurt Mal’s ears.
Nicole edged away from the screaming officers, quickly making her way across the floor to Mal and his father.
“Nicole!” Oscar said, sparing a glance from his son to greet the young woman, “Are you alright?”
She waved away his concern, “I came here from the DMV. It’s way worse there.” She gave Mal a comforting pat on the shoulder. “You okay, Malenthiar? That was pretty scary wasn’t it?”
Mal was still staring at the place the swirling light had disappeared from. Had it been scary? Maybe at first. But the lights made it so it didn’t matter. “I wasn’t scared, Nicole.” Mal said.
She smiled. “That’s right, you’re brave. So what did you think? Pretty cool what the Spell can do for us, isn’t it?”
Mal turned back to where the lights had been.
“Yeah. It is.”
“You liked that?” His father sounded surprised, but pleasantly so. “Do you think you want to be a police officer when you grow up?”
“No.” The police were boring. He pointed at the place the lights had faded from. “I want to do magic.”
----------------------------------------
08:098:01:54:49
Mal woke to the sounds of his parents arguing. It was dark still, and the clock on his nightstand said 10:05pm. Light from the hall was shining under the crack in his door and his parent’s voices were echoing through. They were being quiet, but Mal had good ears. He rolled away from the door and hid beneath his covers. He didn’t like it when his parents argued. He didn’t want to listen.
But he couldn’t help it. He kept hearing his name.
“I don’t understand what the problem is.” It was his father’s voice, “I don’t think you should teach him anything dangerous, just get him started along the path. You don’t have a problem teaching Ophi.”
“Ophinala is already using magic intrinsically,” his mother argued, “She is showing all the signs of a normal Eten child. Malenthiar is not. It would be cruel to get his hopes up.”
“He has the Spell. Even if he has normal human attributes, the Spell can bring him up to speed with other Etens.”
His mother made a snorting sound, “Human mages.” her voice was full of derision, “I will not have my son among their ranks.”
“There were plenty of human mages before the Spell, too.” HIs father said, “Well, there were at least some. I know you respect them, I’ve heard you talk about it before.”
“They were taught properly, not-” his mother descended into a diatribe in the Eten language.
“You know I can’t understand a word of that, Eeleei,” Oscar Thomas said, “English please.”
His father might not have understood, but Mal did. She had said some rather rude things about using shortcuts from the Spell. He made himself as small as he could under the blankets.
“Those mages use magic,” his mother said, “But they do not know it as they should. They do not respect it.”
“That doesn’t sound like what you said,” his father pointed out.
“Shut up, dear,” Mal could hear his mother’s smile in the words. She took a deep breath. “Malenthiar hasn’t shown any of the signs of normal Eten development.” The smile was gone from her voice. To Mal, her voice had the same tone as when she told him his grandmother died. “I am worried what will happen if I teach him and he cannot learn.”
“What does that mean?”
“Magic isn’t a thing we learn, Oscar Thomas. It is who we are, part of our culture, our way of life. I thought you knew this.”
“You’ve told me before, but I don’t see why that means he shouldn’t learn. If anything, it means he should.”
“Then you do not understand. If I teach him and he cannot learn, or only learns a little, he will suffer. He will be a starving child who has seen food, but can never taste it. I will not do that to my son. You see how shy he is. What happens if at integration and the Spell tells him he can never be great? It will devastate him. I would rather him join the sad human mages in their temples of violence.”
“Those are sports arenas, Eeleei, I’ve told you-”
“That is not the point.” His mother’s voice was firm, “The point is I would rather he live a happy life of mockery than one of pain and isolation.”
“You didn’t see him today, Eeleei, I’ve never seen him like that before. I think he already sees the food. You should at least try to help him taste it.”
Mal’s mother did not respond immediately. “If he cannot learn, I stop. No second chances.”
“He’ll surprise you, Eeleei. Thank you.”