Page 5 of Alpha's Magic

We never spoke about it again. But soon after that, he began to read his magic books to me himself as I listened and then used the spells in them to demonstrate the magic to me. That went a little better, although I could say the same words he told me to—the same ones he said—and get an entirely different effect.

He once tried to show me how to fashion a beautiful red rose out of thin air, but after he made the first part himself and then turned it over to me, its petals began to turn black and it emitted a terrible, putrid smell, so that my father had to destroy it and throw it in the fire. He turned next to my stuffed animals, making one of them—a beloved teddy bear—dance in mid-air for me. When I tried it, however, my teddy launched himself at me and tried to wrap its arms around my neck to choke me. My father had to rip it off me and fling it across the room and into the fire too.

After that, the readings stopped, and he simply talked to me instead. He explained to me that dark magic depended on bad intent and ill will and asked me what I’d been thinking when I tried to make the rose. I had to admit to him that I’d been a little angry because my father had interrupted what I was doing and what boy my age wanted to make stupid, old, boring roses anyway? Likewise, I considered myself too old for teddy bears, and I thought it a waste of my valuable time watching one dance, when I’d have much preferred kicking a ball around with my friends outside.

After a while, he started me out doing other, simpler magic, like making fire. After a few small mishaps, like the day I almost burned his study down, I got better at that too. Soon, I mastered the smaller cantrips and magic techniques he taught me, and I seemed to have an affinity for them. I became very good with fire. Maybe that was why it was one of the last skills to leave me.

It was then my father got the idea of healing spells. It seemed strange to me, because healing seemed to me to be the most positive, good kind of magic, when obviously I had an affinity for the darker kind. But then he explained his idea that I could turn my magic on the sickness itself.

“Concentrate on what’s making the patient sick and turn that darkness on whatever that is. Think of it as an evil humor, and you have to vanquish it and send it away.”

That made more sense to me, so I began practicing on the servants. When the cook had a bad toothache, I laid my hands on her swollen cheek and concentrated hard on the tooth itself, which had turned black. I imagined that blackness as evil humors and sent those humors an ill wish and told them to go away and not come back.

I liked the cook, and I didn’t like the idea that she was in pain, so it was easy. I kept at it for a while and before long, her pain had vanished. The tooth looked healthy again—or at least not as black as it had been before, and her gum wasn’t as red or as swollen. Within a few days, she was back to her old self again.

My father was thrilled at the outcome and set me to work on the other servants and even the occasional farm animal. Eventually, I got quite a reputation as a healer, and the villagers even came to my father to ask for my help.

I used to be well-liked in the village and with the servants. So it was all the more traumatic to me afterward, when they chased me and tried to kill me.

I had run away afterward, but the servants chased me with brooms and sticks after I tried to bite them to get them off me. Even my amal, the sweet lady who helped my mother take care of me, who had been with me since I was a baby, was horrified at the way I looked and shunned me and chased me. I thought of her as a mother figure, and she looked at me with shock and disgust on her face. I had to run for my life, after all the other servants joined in. I frantically dodged out of the way and ran out of my home, never to return.

Then as I ran through the village, the people came out to scream and shout and throw rocks at me. I desperately tried to hide myself from them in the woods. I had to run into the mountains to hide and try to save my life, not realizing how far I’d run. That’s where Grimora found me wandering the forests alone a few days later, half-starved and mostly out of my mind. I had been ten years old at the time.

Months later, when I was able to talk to Grimora about what happened that terrible day the warlock came to our house, I wasn’t altogether truthful to him, both because I was trying to protect myself and because I was afraid he’d kick me out if he knew what was after me. I reasoned that if the wicked witch had discovered that I was still alive, she’d remedy that situation quickly, along with anyone who’d tried to help me. So, I made up a story about who I was, and how I had a disease the doctors had no cure for. Grimora believed me, or he said he did, and I’d lived here in this cave by the sea all these years with him. Ten years now, almost. I didn’t think either of us had ever expected me to live so long.

When the fire died down the next morning, I decided to leave the ashes to cool so I could gather them later and think about what to do with the bones. Now I was determined to try and scatter some inside the cave and throw the rest into the wind that would carry them far out into the blue-gray Lumian Sea that Grimora had loved so much, but first I had to figure out the bones. I might have to bury them, but I didn’t want to.

Afterward, I could carry out the plan I had by throwing myself off the cliffside and ending this life once and for all. But first things first.

I trudged slowly back up to the cave, dreading the moment I arrived and saw again how empty and quiet it was without my only friend.

When I got there, it was dark and cold because the fire had gone out. I snapped my fingers at it to get it going again and sat down cross-legged on the cave floor to stare into the flames.

What was I going to do without my friend Grimora? I knew he’d want me to try and go on, but I didn’t know if I wanted to or even if I could. I wondered if it were possible to actually die of loneliness.

He had talked to me about this day, trying to prepare me. Most days I didn’t want to listen, but he always made me promise that I would go to his personal chest that he kept under his bed. He said everything in it would belong to me once he was gone.

I didn’t need anything where I was going, but I thought I should honor his wishes and at least have a look. I went into the little part of the cave that had been his private area and looked under his bed. A small wooden chest sat there, plain and unassuming. It was unlocked, so I opened it and found a small bag of silver, a very old and faded drawing of a beautiful young woman, and a small bag containing a necklace and a folded piece of paper.

It was more like an amulet, I thought, because the piece was inscribed with small magic symbols that I recognized as a magic incantation to protect the wearer against witchcraft. There was a long golden chain, and the centerpiece was a solid chunk of amethyst, designed, I thought, to protect its holder from dark magic, as it had little magic symbols scratched onto its surface. There was a note written on the paper in Grimora’s small, crabbed handwriting. It took me a few moments to make out the words, though once I started, they became easier to read.

My Dear Boy,

If you’re reading this, then I must be gone, and I know you are thinking that you can’t go on alone. But before you do something rash that you can’t take back, I want you to think hard about it and realize your life has worth. I have searched for a way to end this curse on you for years—and yes, I knew it was a curse, a magical spell, even though we both tried to pretend otherwise. Not long ago, I was given this amulet by a pirate captain for whom I’d done a service. He told me elaborate stories about how old it is and where it came from, but his one main warning was that it was an extremely powerful item, and it was not for anyone but the purest of heart. I’ve hesitated about giving it to you, because if it doesn’t work, I don’t want you to fall into an even deeper depression. But if I’m gone and you’re thinking what I know you must be thinking, then you have nothing to lose. And so, I’ve left this to you. The pirate said it was a lucky amulet that would bring its wearer their heart’s desire.

Put this around your neck and believe that it will do that for you. Make a wish for your heart’s desire and maybe your wish will come true.

With all my love I wish this for you,

Grimora

I read the words over and over again. This amulet—a simple necklace—could bring me my heart’s desire? Could take away this curse from me? It was hard to believe, but it was Grimora’s last wish for me to try it. He was right—what did I have left to lose? Taking a deep breath, I slipped it over my head. I went outside, gazed up at the stars, fell down on my knees and made my wish.

“Please, please take this curse away from me and make me human again.” I put everything I had into it. All my emotions, all my hopes and dreams and all the yearning in my heart.

And nothing happened.

Nothing at all and I laughed bitterly to myself, wondering how Grimora could have ever believed a damned, fucking pirate in the first place.

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