The next few days after returning home were tense. Dondan was recovering with old lady Sahta and both Coil and Annabell were being worked by their parents as punishment. The villagers were avoiding him and he suspected he knew why.
The rumours of him being a Warlock weren’t new, a small village would always have its gossip. Up until now however, the only thing the people of Malnir had to prove that fact was that Murphy was a little strange. Things were different after his journey into the canyon. He had told a version of the truth to the village chief, omitting only the parts of the story that would prove him to be a Warlock. Kir Grada was an accomplished man however, and was able to see right through his deception. The hunters and miners of the village were increasingly cold to him also, that scared him more than anything. They were men and women trained to fight monsters, and they were looking at him as though he were their prey. His grandfather hadn’t even mentioned the event, his one respite was being home where things were still normal. At least he thought.
Returning from a visit to see Dondan he walked into his grandfather's workshop in the dawn light, to find the man standing firm with his arms folded, on the table in front of him sat a very familiar boot.
“ElLoh Dahdan, are you trying your hand at cobblery now” He joked nervously.
“Yer’ wrap boy” The old man demanded, holding out a large, work worn hand.
Murphy took a long breath and approached his grandfather, loosing the wrap he never failed to have with him. Miata LockHalm was a giant of a man, he stood at 7ft tall and was as broad as a bull. He had heard that for a Demai man, his ElLoh Dahdan was below average in stature, that didn’t stop him from being entirely terrifying though. His grandfather opened the wrap on the table, and removed the pens, inspecting the dried ink on their nibs. He then checked the vials one by one, leaving the bottle of nearly glide and what used to be a bottle of wind sitting next to the pens and boot.
“Yer’ an idiot Murphy” Miata scolded “How you didn’t kill yer’ self or the boy is the will of Eseyrakir”
“You always say that” Murphy argued, he never much appreciated being likened to the chaos god “I knew what I was doing” he declared.
“Ye’ did’na even draw the boundary ink Esey Bonrani” The old man continued to scold. Murphy knew he must be mad, the angrier he got the less English he spoke.
“It still worked didn’t it?” He pleaded, trying his best to look innocent.
“Do ye’ even know what you’ve done this time Munfiray” Miata sighed “Ye’ canny pretend you’re just a boy anymore” He looked at his grandson mournfully “they’ll want ye’ dead or gone now, I canny do a thing about it this time” He spoke calmly.
“What do I have to do?” Murphy asked “there must be some way to fix this” he reasoned.
“Not this time boy” the old man said, shaking his head. “The villagers are scared of you son, they know you’re a Warlock now for true” he took a step towards the shrinking boy and placed his massive hand on his shoulder. “I’m selling ye’ to a new master” he stated.
“You’re what!?” Murphy scoffed “you’ll do no such thing, i’ll run off if you try it” he said, stomping his foot.
“So be it, but ye’ can’t stay in the village anymore, going with a new master is yer’ best chance” Miata said, turning back to his work bench.
“But why though” Murphy pleaded “it’s not like I hurt anyone, I saved someone actually. I don’t want to leave Malnir” he cried.
“It’s been decided Munfiray” Miata spoke over his shoulder.
“How long do I got” Murphy asked, “maybe I can change some minds” he sniffled.
Miata sighed and hung his head. “Ye’ best say yer’ goodbyes lad, I’ll be taking ye’ past the threshold tonight”.
The silence hung heavy in the air, the sound of the bellows pressing themselves being all that was heard.
“I hate you, fielie rota” Murphy spat before leaving to his room.
After a less than graceful tantrum and a good huffy cry, Murphy tried to regain his composure. He thought about his situation, and begrudged that his grandfather might be right. The people of Malnir, much like many other ground villages, were terrified of Warlocks. They were notorious for their unpredictability, and since humans couldn’t easily use magic themselves for defence, Warlocks were banished or killed in most places. His safest option was to leave Malnir.
He always knew the day would come. A Warlock lives a longer life than a human, and people would notice that for sure. The signs were already starting to show. While his friends were growing older around him, he still looked a good few years younger. He just hoped that he would have more time. He resigned to his fate, he didn’t like it, but his grandfather was right.
He cleaned his face and slipped out his window, the morning sun warmed him, and he took the moment to draw in a deep breath, enjoying the leaded smell of home one last time.
He first made his way back to Dondan. He knew where he was at least. He walked into the room to see his friend shovelling some kind of meat into his mouth.
“Murphy?” Dodo spoke through a muffled mouthful “did you already miss me that much?” he joked. Dondan was looking much better compared to when Murphy had found him. His injuries were wrapped in bandages and his right eye was free of its swelling, allowing him to see again. He sat beneath firmly tucked in blankets with a mound of soft pillows behind him. He was the picture of comfort, Murphy thought he deserved his royal treatment after the ordeal he had been through.
“I can only come by in small bursts, because of the smell” Murphy quipped.
“I think you’ll find that’s the shite you talk” Dondan replied. They both laughed and clasped wrists. “Really though, what brings you back?” Dondan asked.
Murphy looked to the floor. “I have to go Dodo” he said mournfully.
“But you just got here?” Dodo questioned. Murphy didn’t speak, he just looked his friend in the eyes. “Oh...” Dodo followed.
“Maybe I’ll come back one day” Murphy said “they can’t stay scared forever” he chuckled.
“You give them too much credit” Dodo laughed. “I don’t care, for the record” he added.
“About what?” Murphy asked.
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“About you being a Warlock” Dondan said firmly “I always thought it, we all did, but I don’t care” he said, nodding to Murphy.
“Thank you” Murphy replied, feeling a weight he didn’t know he was carrying lift.
“Coil and Annabell don’t care neither” Dodo continued “We talked about it and they said they don’t care neither” he rambled.
“You’ve been good friends to me Dodo” Murphy patted his friend's good shoulder.
“You’re my best friend” Dondan replied. Murphy felt a pang of guilt. He had never thought he had been anyone’s best anything, and he had never thought of Dodo in the same regard. “It’s okay” Dodo continued “I know you don’t think that, I don’t need you to, I just want you to know that we don’t all hate you”.
Despite his butchering of an attempt to be helpful, Murphy still found his words helpful. “I don’t blame you, so you know” he said.
“Nor should you” Dodo laughed “I didn’t mean to fall”.
“Fair point” Murphy chuckled.
They sat and talked for a while longer, until the village was alive outside of the cottage. They said their goodbyes, Murphy fought back his tears, Dodo sobbed like a child.
On his way out he saw old lady Sahta brewing a pot of tea. He remained silent and attempted to leave without a word, but was interrupted by a grunt from the old woman.
“So you’ll be leaving Malnir then?” She asked, not bothering to look at him.
“Aye” He said simply.
“Shame” She muttered.
“How so?” He turned from the door to look at her.
“This village could use a little magic” she turned to the table in the centre of the room “would you like some tea?” she asked politely. She placed three cups on the table, expecting him to politely take her invitation as the veiled demand it really was.
“Thank you” he responded simply, slipping into a vacant chair. There were three chairs at the table. The one with the frilly cushion he assumed was for Lady Sahta, the other cushioned chair was occupied by a rather rotund and famously judgemental black cat. The chair Murphy claimed had no cushion, he thought the cat must have felt smug about that.
“Been a long time coming though, that’s a true isn’t it?” She interrupted his glaring contest with the cat and poured his tea.
“What do you mean?” he asked with genuine innocence.
“I mean you’re not very good at staying out of trouble, the whole village talks about your magic, I’m only glad it keeps them from my own door” she sat and sipped her tea. The cat stood with its front legs on the table and its back firmly on its cushion, and lapped at its tea.
“Why would they come to your door?” He asked, growing curious.
“I’m a healer boy, sometimes that takes a little magic” She replied in a hushed voice.
“You do magic?” He whispered, inching himself closer to the table “How do you do magic?” He asked.
She smiled and sipped her tea in silence. Once she placed her mug down she raised one eyebrow at the cat.
“She’s a Warlock Murphy” The cat spoke in a deep voice, jumping onto the table to be better seen.
Murphy checked his tea for a moment, to make sure it was the right colour, then calmly addressed the cat. “Did you just speak to me?” He queried.
“Yes boy, keep up won’t you” The cat sniffed, then proceeded to start grooming itself.
Murphy sat back in his chair slowly, rubbing his chin and looking around the room in what seemed like deep contemplation. “Alright” he spoke, after a deep decisive breath “You’ve properly confused me” he declared.
The old Warlock laughed, breaking the building tension. The cat talking was certainly something Murphy had no experience with, though he wasn’t too surprised. Malnir had a vibrant trade system, he had been hearing all kinds of stories from merchants and bards about the world beyond the threshold as long as he could remember. Tales of talking animals were nearly mundane at this point. He had heard stories of wyverns and warlords, tales of grey men that stood ten feet tall and swung four blades at once, of ancient warriors felling beasts sent by gods. To say his expectations for amazing were skewed, would be an understatement.
“Dayah, would you go get Uunda my dear” Sahta asked the cat.
He stopped grooming himself and gave Murphy a sideways look. “Surely you don’t mean to” he began to speak but was interrupted by Sahta.
“Come now” She reprimanded “we have already talked about this”.
Dayah growled at her, Murphy got the impression then that the cat must be stupidly brave.
“Mayuun londsahnig may walayta tiemah” She snapped. Immediately Dayah sprung to his feet and scurried off, making a skittering sound with his claws along the way. Murphy felt sorry for him now, when an elder yelled at you in dolmic the experience was intense. She had told him she was losing her patience, and he seemed to accept the message readily.
The two of them sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment after Dayah had found safety in another room.
“So your cat can talk” Murphy declared sarcastically to break the silence, he never was comfortable with quiet.
“All O'jin can speak our languages” She responded nonchalantly “and Dayah doesn’t much appreciate being called a cat”.
That caught Murphy by surprise, he had never heard of an O'jin before. “What’s an O'jin?” He asked bluntly, hungry for more.
Old lady Sahta smirked, she was determined to enjoy the whole experience. “You’ll need to know a lot about them if you want to live as a Warlock” she played.
“You’ll need to stop beating around the bush and tell me before I do some Warlock shit” He half threatened, but his tone lulled into a mumble as he realised who he was talking to. “Lady Sahta” he punctuated politely.
She glared at him at first, then broke into a cackle. “Very well” she laughed. “Most Warlocks won’t get to meet an O'jin” her tone grew serious “Those poor souls will ultimately fall victim to their famous fate”.
“You mean they go crazy” He responded, nodding along. Warlocks were truly famous for losing their sanity, it was the very reason they were feared and hated.
Everyone saw the benefits of magic. Whenever a Demai traveller or any other mage or wizard came through town, the good people of Malnir were always ready to celebrate and find use for their magic.
“Among other misfortunes” she continued “Those of us lucky enough to find an O'jin need not worry about such a fate”.
“But what are they?” Murphy insisted impatiently.
“They are magic” She said bluntly, allowing a dramatic pause before proceeding “They are magic, condensed and folded into itself so many times it starts to think”. She sipped her tea.
“That doesn’t make any sense” He mumbled, studying the crazy old lady with his eyes to see if she was toying with him.
“And yet it can still be” She replied.
“And how does your magic cat keep you from going insane” He scoffed.
“He calms the storm inside” She responded cryptically.
“Like a pet?”
“No, not like a pet”
He gulped and considered not asking his next question, but decided to ask anyway “Like a lover then?” he asked, squinting at her.
“Gods no!” She laughed “Dayah would make a terrible lover” she cackled. “He needs magic to survive, and as a Warlock I have too much magic inside of me”. Murphy began to speak but she held up a finger to silence him. “Dayah has grown accustomed to the magic I have, and he takes from me what I don’t need” She put her tea cup down as if to finalise her lesson.
“So magic makes you crazy?” He asked.
“It can, when you have too much of it” She replied “I really can’t tell you more than that, I don’t know much about it myself” She admitted.
Dayah made a sound at the doorway, saving Sahta from more rapid fire questioning. He was walking backwards, dragging a plain beige sack with his mouth. They sat awkwardly for a moment while they watched the O'jin slowly drag the sack to the foot of the table. He peeked inside and dragged out a small furry creature by the scruff, then he leaped onto the table and placed the fur ball into Sahta’s hands.
“Murphy, this is Uundah” She said, presenting the thing to the boy. The creature unfurled in her hands and revealed itself to him. It looked like some kind of bear, if that bear had a raccoon father. It’s big eyes stared up at him, the grey fur on its face making the deep purple orbs all the more imposing. It stood in her hands and caught its balance, letting him see its creepy little hands and feet, and that the black fur on its back branched into a striped pattern all the way to the end of its tail.
“What in the world is that thing?” He asked, leaning back a little.
“Uundah is an O'jin” She replied, pulling the critter to safety “I found him recently outside the threshold, when I was picking mushrooms. I was curious about why he was there so I took him with me” She pat the things head.
“And why are you showing me all of this” Murphy asked, eager for her to get to the point.
“Not long after I found him, I delivered you in this very house” She said, placing Uundah on the table. The little O'jin sat with its legs spread either side and its back hunched and just stared at him.
“That’s not recently” He scoffed “I was born fifteen years ago” He declared as if it was proof of her lying. He didn’t enjoy when people played him a fool for a joke. Coil was a particular offender and he had grown paranoid over the years.
“I’m a very old woman Murphy” She sighed “Much like your own grandfather, your short years pass me by like hours in the day”.
“So you think that thing made me a Warlock?” He asked, pointing at the small creature.
“No Murphy” She groaned, growing tired of the stubborn young man “I think Uundah came to Malnir looking for you” she declared.
He thought for a moment before responding, the old lady had a way of making him feel stupid, he wanted to avoid that. “If I wasn’t born yet, how could he be looking for me” He asked.
“You really know nothing about magic boy” She barked “do you think Uundah is staring at you like that because you're handsome?” She raised her eyebrows “Of course not” she continued before he had a chance to interrupt “You have a face like the arse of a milk cow and the arms of a helpless maiden, it’d do you well to listen to your elders when they talk more boy because it might earn you a future out of the ground”.
Murphy raised a finger and began to muster a word, but was cut off again.
“I don’t want to hear it” She growled, her demeanour seemingly shifted back to classic scary Sahta. She stood and scooped up the sack from the floor, then dropped the small O'jin into it. “Here” She said, shoving the sack into his hands and pulling him to his feet “Take this life changing gift I’ve given to you and get out of my house, ungrateful shit”. She started pushing him to the door.
“About time” Dayah grumbled as they walked past him.
“We just met” Murphy almost questioned the cat, but he didn’t care.
She shoved him and his new treasure outside and gave him a stern look. “Good luck Murphy” She said sweetly, right before slamming the door in his face.