To spare you a boring night (not for me), all we did was talk, dine, watch movies, and staying the night. Nothing remotely close to a sexy time with Martin. Not that I was expecting it or wanting it, actually. I was hoping it wouldn’t go to that, in fact, I panicked whenever he held my hand or got close to me on the couch. I didn’t want to say no to his advances if that’s what he wanted to do.
It’s not like I’m not interested in sex, I definitely am. But this kind of thing is not exactly easy. I’ve done it before when I was younger and less experienced. I was less in tune with my magical self and with youth also comes chaotic magic. Add to that sex and love, raw emotions, and carnal needs; magic is created out of that. It is a spectacle to a magic-sensitive person. It’s fireworks. It’s a gun shootout. And it was scary at one point. My ex-partner never understood why I was not really into it, why I rather than look like I was enjoying it I looked like I had my blood drained from my face.
I didn’t want to go through it with Martin, I love the guy, I really do. And I don’t want to spoil the start of our ambiguous relationship denying him sex right from the start. I did invite him to my house, which could send mixed signals if I had said no to the fun times.
In any case, Martin never tried anything funny when we were together and even when we went to sleep on the same bed. All we did was kiss and spoon until we fell asleep.
I woke up to the man I loved sprawling on my bed. His mouth was wide open, snoring very quietly; one of those hissing snores rather than the surround sound rumblings some people make. He was drooling from his opened mouth and stained the mattress below it. His hair was a mess, he normally combed it very strictly making him look very clean and intellectual.
I smiled at the scene, his shirt lifted up a little showing his belly button. The man I loved looked so defenseless, relaxed, and messy, nothing like I would describe him normally. But that’s the magic of spending the night with your people. You get to see the side that they normally can’t or won’t show. And here I was enjoying it.
I almost planted a kiss on his cheek with that drive to share love that we all have in us, but I thought better and decided not to wake him up. I stood up from the bed and took to the bathroom to make sure I emptied my waste tank before heading to the kitchen to make some breakfast.
My small little apartment was located on the fifth floor of an apartment building. The fifth was the last floor. And I liked to think of it as a wizard tower. Inside, the wizard’s laboratory was composed of a single room, a bathroom, and a dining room combined with the living room, with a kitchenette on the side. It was barebones, but what can you do when your income comes from a mechanic’s shop?
At the very least I had a good-sized refrigerator, other good quality cooking appliances, as well as a cupboard with a small but varied amount of spices, herbs, and condiments. My kitchen was my pride, I enjoyed food and so I also enjoyed cooking. I wanted my food to taste as best I could with what I could afford.
My small table where I eat was a coffee table in the living room, between my couch and my screen. The couch was very comfortable, I’ve been using it for six years now, and let me tell you that when you use something that long, you mold its comfy-ness. New couches have a different kind of comfortability than old ones, and the one I always wanted to have is the latter. And I did, eventually.
I began preparing sunny-side-up eggs with bacon, the cultural staple breakfast of the Republic of the States of Bathering. It was also a specialty of my grandmother, who took care of me after my dad died and my mother abandoned me. Sad childhood aside, my grandmother was a fantastic cook and she taught everything I could’ve ever wanted about cooking and life. But mostly about cooking, of course. I will forever be grateful to her.
The eggs and bacon were coming along when I heard the silly man, Martin, grunting his way to the kitchenette, rubbing his groggy eyes. He was still looking like a mess even after he tried combing his hair with his fingers.
“Morning, tiger,” I greeted him.
“Morning, mother,” he answered. “What’s for breakfast today?”
“Only the best for my big boy: eggs and bacon.”
“You’re the best, mom,” he said and then yawned. “That was a good sleep.”
“You liked the bed?”
“And my body pillow,” he said.
I looked confused for a second before saying: “you didn’t bring--” and then stopped myself after understanding the meaning. He’s way too bright even after just waking up. “Ah, yes, that.”
“How did you sleep?” he asked.
I began serving the eggs and bacon on the plates. “I’d love to tell you I had a great night, but…”
“Your nephew,” he said the tone suddenly getting more serious. His eyes were still drowsy but there was concern on them now. He might have been uncomfortable.
“I just can’t get it out of my head.”
I placed his plate on the coffee table and Martin walked behind me to sit on the couch. I sat right beside him with the plate still in my hands. Two forks sat on my plate, so I offered one to Martin, which he took, thankful.
“You could use a good table with chairs,” he said. I grunted at it. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
I munched on my bacon. I am with the Good-First School of Eating, I like to eat what I like most first before continuing down the ranks. Martin wasn’t from the opposite school, but he did practice a mix of both teachings. Perfect balance. I’m a very unbalanced person when it comes to menial tasks and things of life, despite my balanced wizard life.
“Go to the Havelhill, locate my nephew, and extract him safely,” I said tactically.
“That sounds way too simple and easy to be actually that simple and easy,” he said before stuffing his mouth with a stack of eggs over a small flooring of bacon. He lifted a finger after doing so, claiming he would continue to speak. He then continued after swallowing. “You’re going to a vampire’s lair to rescue your nephew. I feel like there should more preparation than just…” he pointed at me, “tactically busting the whole thing down by on-the-fly brute force and one-liners. Emphasis on tactically.”
“You know me so well,” I said after swallowing my last piece of bacon. “Ted’s probably stacking himself with new potions and batteries. He is going fully prepared for everything.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll take my robe, my staff, and if I could, I’d take a crossbow,” I said thinking of my vampire hunter fantasy I had experienced yesterday. “On second hand I’d love to take a gun. And I will also take some trinkets.”
“I thought you weren’t good with the fine arts,” he said skeptically. “Magical items aren’t your forte.”
“That’s why I take on the rough arts,” I answered to that smugly, then ate a piece of the egg. “There are other magical items that don’t need a refined person to work on them. In fact, it’s better if they are made by a clumsily, chaotically strong wizards like myself.” I kept eating. “I have to admit that it means they are also clumsy and chaotic items, too. But! They are very strong clumsy and chaotic items. What they lack in control and accuracy the make up in power by a mile or a thousand.”
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Martin stopped moving his fork trying to find food to scoop into his mouth. “That sounds… dangerous.”
“Very. But that’s what I’ve got. I’m a weight-lifter, not a sharpshooter. I bench tons of magical weight. I don’t kill targets from a hundred miles under heavy weather conditions.” I finished eating the rest of my egg. “I’m dangerous. A lot more dangerous than any wizard is comfortable with. Even strong warlocks and witches would feel very scared sitting next to me.”
“We’re so different you and I.” He said, his plate still intact from the last time he spoke. “I sometimes forget that we live in different worlds.”
“We live in the same world.”
“Yea, but your life seems more… magical.” He smirked looking right at me.
I huffed and rolled my eyes. I’m not a fan of puns -- mostly because I’m not that good at it -- but Martin loves to do them. He’d be a great father.
Oi! That’s a dangerous line of thinking. I should concentrate on the present, not wander aimlessly in my thoughts.
“I still wish I could help.”
“You know, Martin,” I put the plate down and turned to see him. I moved my hand to grab his aimless hand that still moved, playing with his food. “You’re doing more help than you realize. Being there for me, like you are now, is more than enough. It’s more than I could ask for. You’ve really helped me. In ways that I didn’t think I needed.” I squeezed his hand. “I need this. I need you.”
“We’ve been together for one night. No pressure.”
I smirked at that. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I get it.” He smiled down at his plate and kept eating. “This is really good.”
I lifted an eyebrow to his comment while he began wolfing the rest of the food until he was done. I made a snarky comment that he was going to choke on his food before he could finish his plate, he scoffed at that and called me mother again.
“We’ve been talking about myself this whole time,” I said. “What have you been doing? What’s the respected professor of a big university been up to?”
“Ah! I have something very important coming up,” he said and one of the biggest smiles I’ve seen grew on his face. The man loves talking about his work, he really enjoys what he does. “I’ll be working with a company to create a prototype of a new product. I can’t say what it is. You know, confidentiality.”
“Sounds fun,” I smiled while looking at him. “You look really happy about it.”
“It’s something really important,” he said hastily and continued talking quickly. “New technology. And they are using my investigations to support the background of the prototype’s new tech. That’s why they want me. I’ve become an expert on the subject. They have a whole bunch of engineers, and all they need is a physicist to lay the grounds for them and direct the work.”
“New technology, eh? Hopefully, it is something revolutionary. You don’t get one of those lately.”
“We’ve grown too fast when it comes to science and technology that we reached a plateau,” he said thoughtfully. “All we need is something big to spark a new era of discovery and inventions.”
I looked at him and thought that he looked his best when he was like this. A scientist. Despite science and magic being at odds with each other, I loved the man before because he was exactly that. Because he was a man that loved what he was and what he was doing, and because he never ceased to move forward, to find out more.
When he first learned about magic he was skeptical, and I never fault him, everyone is like that at first. Even wizards when they find out, first hand, they have magical powers are skeptical of what they did. ‘I couldn’t have moved the wind.’ ‘There’s no way I turned invisible.’ ‘Changed someone’s mind? Ha! What a joke!’
But when he found out that magic was real he changed to be fascinated by it. He still is to this date. He says there’s no way for him to figure out how magic works when the laws that govern it are metaphysical. ‘But that’s why I’m so fascinated by it. That there’s something out there I know I can’t explain naturally, and yet it exists… it’s so outlandish! It’s fantastic. It’s… magical.’
I smiled when I saw him ponder and think and talk idly about his work and future, and how he might be changing lives. I felt it. I felt the magic. There was love in the air and I was the one producing it.
I shuffled in my seat, leaned forward to Martin, and kissed him on the cheek. “I really do love you, after all.”
That made him turn red and fumble with his words. “I- I love you, too, Eddy.” Then he opened his eyes and opened his mouth without making a noise. It was his eureka moment. “Magic? Did you feel it?”
I laughed and stood up. “Maybe.”
I saw him calculate things in his head quickly while looking at me go, then began reproaching that it wasn’t fair I wasn’t sharing anything. The small banter only lasted a small moment before he stood up to help me wash the dishes.
The rest of the morning went by with us talking about food and how it would be nice to go out to a nice restaurant. Of course, that would be great, but given my conditions, I doubt a date would come soon, and if it did it won’t be enjoyable.
Spending the morning with Martin was nice, better than I imagined. It’s the power of love and hormones. It always does that to humans. I’m, apparently, a sucker for it, because I really like spending fun times with Martin no matter how. So, spending some quality intimate time with him was one huge yes.
Martin left an hour before noon, and I had one hour to prepare myself before Tedet arrived home. He made sure to send a message to our workers and told them that today the shop was going to be closed because of unforeseen events. I couldn’t do it myself so I was grateful that Tedet did it. He always gives me an angry look but knows that it is physically impossible for me to do it.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I’m not good with the handy things. So instead of making potions or magical instruments, I buy them someone else. My staff was made by someone from a different city and shipped to me. And if I need some kind of magical object, all I can do are stones or pieces of metal with powerful runes. The best types of stones are pebbles. The rivers make the stones extremely smooth, and because of the running water, it washes away all magic from them until they are empty. That’s what running water does, it washes magical powers away or even draws it out, like a vacuum.
I’ve stored runic stones for many years; sometimes I supply them with a trickle of magic. So, when I opened my closet door to put them in my coat’s bags I felt the humming sensation of magic on my hands. They were bursting with magic.
“Okay, I might not want to use these,” I said to myself.
If I activate the stones they could cause catastrophic results. Some had fire runes, which could summon a big fire flare or explode into a heatwave that could instantly vaporize what’s around it. I don’t know what the result would be, I’ve never experimented with it. In either case, we might not want to be close if it ever goes off.
There were wind and earth runes too. Imagine a localized tornado or a sudden earthquake followed by a sinkhole… or maybe a hill coming out of nowhere from below you. Whatever might happen, these stones were dangerous.
I debated whether to bring them or not, but then I remembered we were fighting vampiric creatures. Those guys are hard to kill, and even if we got to kill three until today, we had taken them by surprise. Where we were going, we could maybe catch two, a maximum of three, but after that, they will be aware of us and be out for the hunt. In a straight battle, we might not have a chance.
I took one last stone from the back of the closet, that one doesn’t have runes, but a circumscript five-pointed star; the symbol of Earthly magic. The stone exists for the sole purpose of harboring magic, and this one I knew had more magic than three of me could, and I definitely can hold a lot of it.
The stone almost vibrated in my hand as I held it, the magic wanted out and before I could put it in a different pocket it zapped me with magical electricity. Despite my effort to isolate myself from the stone it still managed to zap me just because the difference in magical density was that big. It’s hard for something to give out any magic unless you know how to siphon it… but this rock just struck me with a quick burst of magic. It goes to show how unstable the stone is right now. If it gets in contact with any of the runic stones -- well, imagine Armageddon.
I finished closing the closet when I heard my door being knocked and a familiar voice calling out from outside it. I walked up to it and opened the door to see Tedet behind it holding a bag on his shoulder… and something else.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Ted,” I said in disbelief, “What the blazes is that?”
“You don’t know?” he sounded confused, but couldn’t tell with the fact that his face showed no expression.
“Of course I know! It’s a rhetorical question!” I said almost angry. “I mean, why the hell do you have a gun?!”
“We’re killing vampires,” he said as if it were obvious.
I sighed. “Does your girlfriend even know you own guns? How do you own a gun in the first place?”
“My girlfriend?” he asked. He looked at the gun and posed with it. “Of course she knows. I asked her to borrow two.”
That took me aback. “Borrow? Those are hers?”
“Yea. She has a shed filled with them.”
“Sweet Mary, you are a weird couple.”
He half-smiled with his posture and croaked. “You didn’t expect her to be this cool, huh?” He reached out behind him and pulled the gun he had hidden and pushed it to me. “For you.”
I was about to say something before I saw a little folded paper that hanged from the gun, it was addressed to me. I took the gun, grabbed the letter that read ‘for Mr. Ed,’ and opened it.
‘I better not find a single scratch on my Teddet.’
That was all it said. And I imaged an angry radera holding a gun to my head saying ‘I warned you, Mr. Ed,’ then proceeding to blow my head into a million mushy pieces. Women are crazy.
“Hell hath no fury… sweet Mary.”
“She sends her regards,” he said very innocently.
If it won’t be a vampire or a torviela that does me, it’s going to be an angry girlfriend.
I’m starting to regret some choices. What am I getting myself into?