A heavy, herbal, scent was filling the whole room. In the corner of the basement a small, boiling, cauldron was the obvious culprit for that scent. The small table that we were sitting was almost crammed next to the wall, leaving enough space for the three engraved magic circles in the stone floor.
It had taken almost the whole day to get situated and finish up my move here, and I was beat and tired, but this night I would get at least some answers, whatever the cost, even if I had to spill some of my own secrets to the old lady that was sitting opposite to me.
“So, Granny… I think you own me some explanation about…”
Her hand rose slowly but firmly to stop me.
“Stop. I know what you want to ask me but there is a need for order in such a conversation. A lot of things have happened to you in those last couple of days, a lot of things were revealed, and a lot of questions asked without an answer. No matter who you were, you’re still a child that is in no mental state to dictate the flow of such a discussion without it dissolving into chaos. So, just sit tight a bit and just listen, answer what is asked of you, and then, if there are still holes, and I can fill them, you can ask to your heart’s content.
To start, I’m no longer your granny, or Neven, or lady, or anything else except your master, and you shall address me as such for as long as you stay in my house. I’m not a stickler for rules, but if you want to succeed in this craft you need discipline, and this is just one of the ways to build it up, following simple rules. In your case it’s much more important because that discipline is what will control if you’ll survive or not.”
For a second she stopped. Her hand lowered towards the steaming cup in front of her and, almost intentionally, painfully, slow, she raised it to her mouth and took a sip. All this time her eyes didn’t leave mine, staring me straight without blinking, as if challenging me.
Words almost left my mouth to answer her. I felt a bit of heat rising from within me. I was a child but I also wasn’t one, and being treated like one didn’t sit right with me. Her words were almost, but not quite, provoking me. Her intentional pause, a stratagem I’ve used so many times in the past when I made speeches was obvious and clear to me.
And yet, her gaze was stifling me. Like a looming threat, challenging me and waiting to see how I would react. As I watched her slowly returning the mug back into its rightful place, ready to continue her speech, I realized something. I’ve spoken to countless people, I’ve begged, pleaded, and threatened so, so, many times in my past life. But this woman in front of me, in just a few seconds, had me pinned under her gaze like a deer caught in headlights. Maybe it was her tone, her body language, or even her specific words, but at this moment I felt a tremendous amount of pressure from her. Fear creeped up to my mind at disobeying her, and yet, I didn’t feel like I was under any kind of danger. Like a spell being broken, the sound of her voice brought me back.
“Good. It seems you can follow some simple instructions. Now, undoubtedly you are wondering if and what I know about your dreams. Let’s get this out of the way first, so that it doesn’t distract you and you can focus on the actual important stuff. Yes, I’ve seen some of the stuff you dreamt about in the past; glimpses at most, but enough to get a slight picture puzzled together. It was only recently, after you encountered the goblins, that someone else saw way more than me and he conveyed everything he’s seen back to me.
To talk about the elephant in the room, that was a correct use of that expression, right? I know what you were, your field and skills, and I know what the world in those memories is like. But you have to understand something about those memories.”
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And with a dramatic flair she moved her hand towards a cloaked object in the corner of the table that I hadn’t noticed before, mainly because there was a plethora of clutter and various apparatuses and weird objects lying around. As she pulled the cloth away, I saw beneath it a small glass globe with a bright flame captured within it.
For all her effort in her performance to unveil it, the object itself didn’t look like anything important. Probably a magic item, and from a first look at it, it didn’t even seem like an impressive one. But the inquiring gaze she was giving me made me look at it again. Despite that, no matter how much I trid to think about at it, I couldn’t figure what she was showing me.
A sigh escaped her lips as she pointed out the obvious.
“You are correct with your dismissive assessment; it’s nothing more than a small flame caught in glass, a nice looking bauble but nothing more. Now, can you tell me, from all this knowledge stuck in your head, how does the fire burn without having air to consume?”
And then I realized what she wanted to tell me. But…
“But… that’s because it’s magical fire, right? If it was normal fire like from the fireplace it wouldn’t, right?”
“Silly child, magic is not an effect, it’s a medium to achieve one. There doesn’t exist magic fire and mundane fire, there’s only… fire. It can be made by hitting sparkstones, it can be made by using other embers, lightning can ignite, and yes, it can be made with magic. There are different types of flames, completely heatless or ones hot enough to melt adamantine, ones that consume air and others who don’t, red, white, blue and even green flames. The means to achieve them vary, the mediums differ, but the end result is, by itself, not what you would call magic. At least not in the sense of magic that you, as a seven years old child, understand it.
What I wanted to show you is this. You have memories of an interesting, but different world. So different in fact that the majority of the rules and laws, as you know them, don’t apply here. Yes, some of them do, but a lot of them don’t. Even humans, as they function here, aren't actually humans as you knew them to be, isn't that right?
The reason I showed you that trinket was simply to point out that while your experiences in a different world are a great thing, the actual knowledge from it is much more limited, especially in regards to what you can achieve and what you can't by using the laws of your old place. Hopefully, we’ll have years in front of us to talk about what is applicable and what’s not. But for now I just want you to take those memories out of the picture, because where those came from is secondary in importance compared to what you truly are. So far behind that they shouldn’t even be an afterthought compared to the severity of that.”
With that, Neven stopped her monologue and took another long sip from her mug. Her eyes were still glued on me, but this time they were different, gentler, as she waited for me to comprehend what she told me; as she waited for me to sort my feelings and memories.
I still haven’t gotten a single answer out of her, if anything, the questions only grew. I watched her standing up, going towards the small cauldron, and refilling the teapot with the herbal mix that was brewing within. She returned and poured herself a fresh mug of tea. It seems it would be a long night, hopefully long enough to actually get some answers. The rhythmic rapping of her fingers on the wooden table counted the seconds as I steadied myself before she continued.
“Are you ready now? Now for the actual important stuff, I just told you that there isn’t magical and mundane fire, and that’s correct with your current understanding of what is magic. But the reality is slightly different. The reality is that even the simplest smoldering ember from a stray lightning is, actually, a kind of magic. That even that rock you stepped on your way here is extremely similar to what you think is magic. Every breath you take, and every punch you throw, is ruled by what you call magic. But to better understand that, I’ll have to tell you a story.”
Her eyes finally left mine as her gaze traveled upwards, towards the wooden, slightly darkened from smoke and fire, ceiling before asking me.
“How do you think our world was made?”