Author's note: This turned out pretty much as the longest one-shot I've ever written... but the more important thing is about Magnus's father. This was written a few days ago (I was just too lazy to re-write it form my notebook to the computer) so I haven't read the Bane Chronicles when I finished it.
That means two things. First, I think I got wrong some of the history lining of events, since in What Really Happened in Peru is mentioned that Magnus basically doesn't remember his mother, while in this story, she dies when he's about ten.
Also... The theory about his father was mine, and then I read it and.. well. I'm still not sure it's true, but I'm almost certain. For the first time I experience the feeling of writing a fanfic which becomes canon shortly after, and it's amazing.
Anyway *cough* This story drained me emotionally and I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is much appreciated, as always. :)
The day was extremely cold – which was pretty unusual – but the coldness did not bother the boy that was sitting out on the field, away from home.
He knew that his father would beat him when he found out that he had went outside during the day – his parents had forbid him to let people see him – but it did not matter. Part of him was mortified by the idea, but a bigger part was curious. He wanted to know what other children were like. What other people were like in general.
Unfortunately for him, there was no one outside during that particular day. Maybe it was because of the strange weather, but everyone seemed to be home.
"What are you doing here?" someone asked somewhere behind him and the boy stiffened. They had found him.
It took him a few seconds to realise that the voice was unfamiliar and – most importantly – had inquired of him in English.
He looked around, searching for the speaker.
It was a girl, probably around his age – nine or ten-years-old. Her skin was much paler than his, but darker than his father's also. Her hair was brown and curly, and her eyes had the colour of coffee – only warmer. She was wearing a dark red dress and a ribbon in her curls.
The boy knew a few words in English – he had heard his father talk to the people who come with their ships overseas and had learnt the meaning of some of the things they were saying.
"I like it here." He said simply. The girl frowned slightly, as if she could not understand, but then smiled at him.
"Hello. My name is Elinor."
"Hello." The boy could not take his eyes off her. She was the first person that was his age he had ever met, and he was fascinated.
"What do I call you?" Elinor asked and he wondered why she was still here. Nobody liked to be around him. Nobody. Why would she be any different?
"Whatever you want." He said and her frown deepened.
"You do have a name do you not?" she asked. He shook his head.
"I think I do not."
"What do your parents call you?" Elinor was not giving up.
"Boy." He replied and sought the other word, trying to think of it in English. "Monster, when Father is angry."
The girl's eyes widened in shock.
"This is terrible!" she exclaimed. "Why would they do such a thing to you?"
He just gestured at his eyes without saying a thing and locked them with her warm brown ones for the first time. Something inside him trembled and he found himself hoping that she would not run away or scream. Even though she should. It was normal to be afraid of a creature like him.
Instead, Elinor gracefully lowered herself to the ground, staring intently at him. There was no fear in her eyes. Only silent amazement. And then, much to the boy's surprise, a smile crept on her face.
"They are beautiful." She whispered. "How can anybody hate something so beautiful?"
The boy felt his cheeks warming up. No one had called him beautiful before – much less his eyes. His parents snorted in disgust or looked away whenever he was around. He smiled shyly and suddenly, Elinor's expression changed from awed to determined.
"That does it. Do you want to come with me? I– Lunch is in half an hour. Mother said that we have to stay here for a long while and that I have to make friends with the local people." Now it was her turn to blush. "Do you want to be my friend?"
A hesitant nod was the only answer she got. He knew that, whenever he came back home, he would probably be beaten like never before. He had never dared to talk to anyone; it was the first time he had went this far. But right now, he found he did not care about it. He let Elinor take his hand and lead him through the fields top her home.
~X~
It appeared that before lunch, Elinor had a Latin lesson with her teacher. The man scolded her for being late and – after giving the boy a long suspicious look – let him stay as well.
He had never heard anyone speak in Latin before. It was captivating; hearing a language that sounded as old as time. Some words caught his attention.
One of them was 'magnus'. It meant 'great' and it reminded him of something Elinor had told him on their way here.
"Father often says that there is some sort of power in certain people. People who are born with greatness inside them…" she had smiled softly at him. "I believe that you are one of these people. You just have that air about you…"
He had not mentioned that his parents did not think that he was human at all.
But, the more he thought about it, the more it sounded like a name. And, if it was a name, he could have it, right?
Magnus. My name is Magnus, he thought and joy rushed through him. He had a name. His own name. It sounded unique, and powerful, and his. So, as soon as Elinor was done with her Latin lesson and went with him down the corridor to go to lunch, he let her know.
"My name is Magnus." He informed her seriously. Elinor raised her eyebrows and laughed.
"It suits you." She said and suddenly seemed older than a ten-years-old girl. "I like it. What about your last name?"
He had no thought about that. After a few moments of consideration, the boy returned the smile. "Maybe you will be the one to give me an idea for that, too."
And she did. Half an year later, Elinor had sailed away with her parents, Magnus's mother was long gone, he had accidentally set his father on fire and the people in the monastery nearby had saved him from the villagers who wanted to kill him.
One of the men – Magnus could not recall what they were called – asked for his name.
"Magnus." He answered simply.
"Magnus who?"
He thought about the long hours spent with Elinor in the months before she left. It never mattered to Magnus how badly he was beaten by his father when he got back home – he always found a way to get out the house – as long as he was with her.
He recalled a lesson she had had to learn. Elinor's teacher taught her History as well and she had learnt about some old, long lost civilization – was it Sparta? Or Persia? – and the teacher had said that they had always been 'a bane for their enemies'.
Back then, the word was unfamiliar to Magnus and it tasted strangely on his tongue, but now he understood it perfectly.
His father had been his enemy. And things had ended badly for him.
Probably Elinor would like that name as well. It suited him, too.
"Magnus Bane." He replied confidently.
~X~
London, 1621
With another sigh, somewhere between irritation and exhaustion, Magnus took a small sip of the glass of red wine he was holding.
He did not have the slightest idea why he was invited to this ball at all. From what he had heard, no one here – there were mostly Downworlders around – knew who the host actually was. There was a fair amount of Warlocks, compared to the other species, but that was not entertaining enough to keep him here any longer – despite the fact that, at, the young age of nineteen, he was still curious and not well-educated enough when it came to his own kind.
He turned around and narrowly avoided stepping on a woman's dress – said woman had been standing right behind him and he had not noticed her.
"My apologies, I did not mean to– Elinor?"
A pair of chocolate brown eyes – he had finally found the thing their colour resembled; chocolate – started back at him in surprise and disbelief.
"M-Magnus? What are you doing here?" As soon as she said it, she flushed and looked down, apparently thinking that this had been the stupidest thing to say. Before Magnus – who was stunned enough to not be able to talk – could react, Elinor spoke again.
"I do not understand." She whispered. "You have changed so much an yet… not at all."
The same could be said about her, Magnus thought. The way she was looking at him was exactly the same that he remembered. But she had gotten taller, her hair – longer, and she was dressed in a dark red dress – again – but this one had a corset. The ribbon in her brown curls seemed the same to him. The way those dark eyes pierced right through him was painfully familiar as well – he almost felt the brush of the cold wind back then, nine years ago.
"What are you doing here?" Magnus managed at least. "This place is full of Downworlders… Do you know how dangerous it is…"
"I know." She replied softly. They both sat on a sofa near one of the walls, unnoticed by the dancing couples. "Magnus, after I left… I tried and sacrificed many things just for a little knowledge – to figure out what you are. And I did. Then I realised that there were many magical creatures, all around us. I found Pandemonium – it is a secret organization – and I have been searching for you ever since."
While this speech lasted, Elinor was looking down at her hands, not meeting his eyes. Magnus felt a rush of fear wash over him. He knew how many mortals ruined their lives because they wanted to be a part of the Shadow world. He could not allow her – the only person in his life that had ever truly mattered – do that as well.
"You should have given it up long ago." He murmured. "Elinor, you should have given it all up. I am definitely not worth…"
"Given it up?" she finally faced him again. Her eyes were shining from the tears that threatened to run down her face. "Magnus, you were my first love. You opened my eyes and helped me see everything. You were everything."
"'Were'?" It was selfish, extremely selfish of him to hope that she still thought so, but he could not help it.
"You still are." Elinor closed her eyes and the young Warlock saw her biting her lower lip violently, hoping that the pain would chase the tears away. "I got married last year." She whispered. "Father forced me to. I never said a word about you, ever since we left, but he said that he knew who I was waiting for. He told me that it is impossible to ever meet you again. He told me to give it up. But I never did."
Magnus was not even surprised by the jealousy that awoke inside him when she mentioned her marriage.
"Now that I know everything about your kind, I know that you will live forever." Elinor smiled at him. "You do not need to say it – my life is wasted. I know it, and there can be no other way, since I cannot be near you and… this is goodbye, Magnus. I'm just glad I got the chance to meet you now, so I could say a proper goodbye." Her voice was barely audible now. "Please forget me – forget everything about me – and be as happy as you can for both of us." Those dark eyes were staring at his own so intently that Magnus almost felt obliged to accept what she was saying. Almost.
"I will never forget you." He vowed. "You saved my life. You gave me my name and made me who I am now. And what have I given to you? Only Pain. And trouble."
"You made me alive, Magnus." Elinor whispered and, in a sudden surge of bravery, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his.
It was a soft, innocent and gentle kiss, nothing like anything Magnus had ever experienced. He had been kissed before – mostly by Downworlders – and it had never felt this way. It was simple and perfect and full of her feelings and her despair and he wanted it to last forever.
"I love you." Elinor whispered frantically between kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"
He seemed to be drowning in those words and in the same time they were the only thing that kept him whole.
Without even thinking about it, Magnus let his arms wrap around her and pull her closer to him.
"I love you too." he murmured gently, running his fingers through her silky hair.
"Promise me, Magnus." Elinor insisted; despite everything, she had not forgotten her request. He nodded.
"I promise. I will be as happy as I can be. And… please try to be happy as well." It was naïve of him, really, to actually believe in that, but he did. "And I will never forget."
"Mr Bane?" a voice behind him spoke.
Elinor immediately pulled out of his embrace when the servant approached them. The man bowed as he continued.
"The host would like to meet you. If you do not mind, of course." He hurried to add. "You can find him in the room in the library if you would like to."
Magnus nodded, not even bothering to wonder what exactly 'the room in the library' meant.
"Give me a moment." He said. The servant stepped back with another bow.
"Of course, Sir."
As soon as the man was gone, Magnus turned back to Elinor.
She was not crying, he noticed. She was strong enough to keep up the cool appearance, no matter what she felt inside. Magnus could see the silent agony in her eyes and guilt overwhelmed him immediately. That was all because of him. She would not be like that at all if she had not met him when she was still a child. She could have had a normal, happy life with a husband she was supposed to love. She would not even think about a Warlock who could give her nothing but pain.
"Goodbye then, Magnus." She whispered and gently pressed their lips together one last time. "Thank you."
And before he could reply, she was already gone.
~X~
"Magnus Bane. You turned out exactly as I expected you to."
Magnus's eyes scanned the man before him up and down. His skin was – for the lack of a better word – golden, with some strange shimmer about it (the Warlock was still unable to figure out what creature the host was exactly). He had light brown hair, with the same golden aura as his whole being, and eyes that Magnus could not force himself to look at. They were beautiful, but terrifying. Those eyes could look at you in the gentlest way possible, or laugh at you while you die. They were the eyes of someone who had seen everything.
"What do you mean?" Magnus asked coldly, remembering that he had been spoken at at some point. The man ignored him.
"You look so much like her."
"Like who?" he insisted.
"Your mother, of course." The host sounded almost annoyed now. "Well, at least when it comes to your appearance. She would never love someone who might be bad for her."
"Who are you?" Magnus's voice was low and dangerous now. If there was a topic he certainly did not want to bring up, it was the only about his so-called family.
The man laughed, as if Magnus amused him to no end. "Do you really want to know?"
And just then, whatever magic the man had placed on himself was gone. Magnus gasped and fought the urge to go as far from the fallen angel – because the man before him was just that – as he could and never come back again.
"I am your father, Magnus." His voice was calm and even, as if he was talking about the weather outside. "I gathered this whole bunch of Downworlders here just on the hopes of meeting you… my only son."
Magnus did not say anything. There was nothing left to say; not until he could finally overcome the shock.
During the last nine years, he had been told that his father was surely a demon that had gotten into his mother's husband's body. He had accepted it. A demon – it was only logical. But he had expected to never see his real father – the one that had made him a monster.
And he had expected a demon, not a Prince of Hell.
He had heard about them, of course – his parents were as religious as they could get – and he knew that they were powerful creatures. The greatest angels of Heaven had become the greatest Princes of Hell after they had fallen.
And one of them was his father.
Magnus felt sick. He was not even sure if it was due to the power radiating of the Prince, or because of the fact that the greatest wave of distress and fear he had e4ver experienced was still drowning him. He could not even see or breathe properly.
"I… I cannot be your only one." He managed to choke out as he sat on a bench nearby – he could not fight the shaking of his legs any longer. "T-there must be someone else."
His father shook his head; his expression not changing in the slightest.
"But there is not. All my brothers had had a child already… As for me, I thought that it would be too dangerous. And yet I dared to do it. And – as it seems – it was worth it."
Magnus still had his face hidden in his hands. If the fallen angel – what was his name? The Warlock did not know even that – had wanted a weak, vulnerable boy of a son, then he had gotten just what he had wanted.
"How can you say that?" he asked, trying to draw in breath. "I could have had a normal life. I could have had–"
"What?" even now, his father was not angry. He actually looked rather amused. "You could have had a short, poor mortal life, to grow old and then die. Instead, I made you a god, or as close as you could be to one. You have to be grateful and you come here complaining about your fate."
"Everyone called me a monster!" Magnus was nearly shouting now, finally out of himself. "A spawn of the devil! I could have been normal! I…" his voice died. "I could have been with her." He finished crestfallenly. "Maybe I would have been able to…"
"No you would not have." His father informed him quite unceremoniously. "Do you think that her family would have allowed her to get married to a village boy on the other side of the world? Not very likely. Do you even think that Elinor would have been so drawn to you if you were just an ordinary boy?"
"She loves me!" Magnus retorted heatedly.
"Maybe. But she loves your world as well." The Prince's voice was almost gentle now.
"I want to know what will happen to her in the future." The Warlock said. He still avoided his father's eyes. "You know everything, so tell me. Please."
The way he said it made him remember that he had never said 'please' to anyone before; or if he had, he had never meant it. at this point Magnus realised how different his mother's husband and his actual father were. Abraham had beaten him – often and a lot, very mercilessly. But Magnus had grown to understand that the man had actually feared him more than he himself could imagine.
And here he was with his real father, and Magnus was afraid, so very afraid, and yet it seemed like the fallen angel actually respected him, even though he did not show it in any way.
"Are you sure?" he heard his father asking again and nodded. "Many people think that they can handle the truth. But quite often, they are lying to themselves."
"I am not a human, Father." Magnus said darkly. "I think I can handle it."
"Very well, then." a sight could be heard. "She will eventually accept the fact that she is married, but she will never stop despising her husband. They will have a child next year – a girl called Elisabeth. Elinor will die three years from now, at the age of twenty-two, while giving birth to her second child and only son, on 22nd October. The last thing she will utter is 'Magnus' and her husband, the poor fool, will think that this is what she wanted to name the baby. Do you wish to hear Magnus's story?"
The Warlock finally raised his head from his hands. "No, thank you." He did not want to hear, be it his own story, or the one of the still-unborn boy. He had heard more than enough.
"She will be… so young." He whispered, shaken. "And she will die." The Prince snorted.
"Of course she will. They all die eventually." He sounded almost bored, like he did not care in the slightest. He probably did not.
Yes, definitely more than enough.
"You did not disappoint me, Magnus." His father called as the Warlock stood up. "I hope you will not do it in future as well."
"Can you not tell if I would disappoint you or not?" Magnus asked. Not that he was actually curious. He felt empty and completely shattered. The fallen angel laughed.
"Nothing is written in stone, Magnus. Definitely not the future. Is there something else?" he asked when the young Warlock kept standing where he was – by the door. He nodded hesitantly.
"I… Can you tell me your name?" he asked quietly.
"You would not be able to understand it in the original, angelic language it was actually made for but… I suppose Amon is quite close."
Amon. Wrath. Magnus smiled cynically. Of course it would be him. The only think he was capable of was destruction. He recalled his 'father' screaming as he was set on fire.
Then, a strangely vivid image – his father's Bible and the explanation there was in it about the fallen angels.
Amon was just another name for Satan.
Spawn of the devil.
Magnus barely made his way outside the room and closed the door behind his back before he threw up.
~X~
London, 22nd October 1624
Despite everything, Magnus dared to pray for Elinor when the day came. He could not really hope for anything – why God or whatever higher power would want to listen to Satan's son? But he had to try.
He was in his apartment in London, with a single candle to light the room up. He did not want to read, or walk, or eat, so light did not really matter. All he wanted was to die. Or live, but only if Elinor got to live as well. After all, nothing was written on stone. At some other part of London, Elinor was giving birth right now and the thought nearly drove Magnus to insanity. He was absolutely helpless.
He had to wait for hours, hoping that if she died, he would feel it somehow. There had to be some way for him to know.
Magnus finally stopped pacing around the room like a lunatic and stopped by the window, looking at the street outside.
It was untypically warm – for October, for London and in general. It was sunny and only a few clouds were passing through the sky. The whole city seemed to be bathed in red light – the autumn leaves, lit by the sunset, were making everything look like it was on fire.
Magnus shivered. It was breathtaking, in both good and bad ways, just like so many other things around him.
Suddenly the wind – that had not bothered him until now – entered the room and the candle on his nightstand died out. The clouds outside started to get more and more numerous and suddenly, everything went darker in just a few minutes.
Magnus stood up, suddenly worried and on alert – and he did not even know why.
Slowly, but surely, it started raining and, due to the wind, a few raindrops entered Magnus's room and fell on his bare hands. The Warlock trembled; the rain was surprisingly cold. Not that he actually paid attention to it.
Cold… It was so cold…
And suddenly, he knew.
Magnus ran down the stairs and outside the building, where he was attacked mercilessly by the already raging storm. He did not have a place to go to, thought. He could not help in any way. There was nothing he could do, even if he wanted. He could just feel that it was too late.
The day when Elinor had come into his life had been a really cold one as well. So cold, that it was almost unnatural. She had brought the warmth with her and now that she was gone, the whole world was mourning with him.
Magnus sat down on the stairs, letting the rain hit his face and soak his hair and clothes. It did not matter anymore; nothing mattered. Elinor was hone. He had loved her and she had made him who he was, and now he would never see her again. She had been crushed by life, like it happened to too many mortals, and she had left him all alone.
The first of many.