Chapter 6
Reality is a slap to a face
It is raining, but the water does little to wash away the stench. It is soaked into every tree and leaf, into every grain of small rocks on the dirty road and most of all, into the puddles of water. The smell is metallic, coaxing the water drops that continue to fall, like inviting for the weather to be this gloomy all year long. Though, it is doubtful all of that amount of rainwater could ever quench the smell and make it fade away fully.
Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap.
Feet tap against both the messy ground and the liquids on them. Not only are there corpses lined and piled up one after another, but they also are still all bleeding. The red mixes with the dirty water of the puddles, creating a mess and coloring the brown ground with dark red.
The corpses are all pale, hued with blue and purple from purple and massive blood loss. Those that still have recognizable features either have their eyes shut – they are the ones that didn't want to see their final moments – or have both orbs half-open. The latter ones didn't like what they had seen, but it may be better that they are all now simply cold and will never stand up again.
That raises a question to every corpse. Why are there pairs of feet walking past them? After all, nobody is supposed to live after a massacre.
Though, if somebody is still half-alive among the pile of corpses, then they certainly wish to die instantly now. They don't want to look at the ones that made them like this.
Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap.
The sound of the feet hitting the ground – the water and blood – is enough to make anyone shiver in fright. Luckily it is raining. Nobody would want to venture out while the water continues falling and nobody would want to see such a homicidal sight.
So, whoever is currently complaining about the weather conditions and wishing for the sun to shine in the safety of their home, should think more carefully what they wish for.
"Where next?" A gruff voice asks through the rain. The disturbing part about its owner, though, is that he walks without stopping on top of the blood and water. His steps are so leisure that one could forget where he is standing.
The other person next to him, isn't also displaying any emotions of being uncomfortable by the scenery. "Land of Earth."
"What is our target?"
"A lord."
"Hopefully the shinobi there will be much interesting than this bunch," is a nonchalant comment from the taller one. He seems to be looking around himself under the white strings of a round straw-hat. A dark chuckle full of humor comes out of him in a second. "I don't even have half of my chakra restored, yet. And these guys still went down so easily."
His partner does not comment further to his words and continues walking forward – away from the corpses. "Let's go."
"How long do you think this trip will take us for?"
"Two days."
"Tch! We could make it there in a less amount of time, if…" the rest is muttered out with irritated tone.
The shorter male understands what he means. It is slightly irritating to him as well, for the jobs would be just as easy as in the past, if it weren't for peculiar circumstances. Everyone is puzzled by them, and nobody seems to have an answer to any of the questions. There are many options, but none that could be that accurate enough. At least, to him, that is. Though, he can't think much beyond that at this point, because a sharp pulse goes through his eyes, and he nearly flinches.
The movement is barely noticeable, but his partner does notice it and chuckles. It is a very low sound, but still there. The shorter man doesn't show any reaction to it, already used to the presence of his partner.
"Did you actually overuse them against these weaklings?"
He doesn't bother answering and ignores the taller man. The said partner merely chuckles again, having gotten his answer with the silence. Though, he knows the reason why his partner's strength has been drained so quickly recently. For them both, performing simple jutsus has become a slight task.
Their own emotions – irritation, confusion, anger, bafflement – are only a scratch to the surface of how the other members of their organization feel.
Ting!
Whoever had caused them to fall to this state, should be wary and careful from now on.
Ting! Ting!
For there are bloodthirsty people seeking them out.
Coal colored eyes flash red for a mere moment, before turning back to normal and closing. A hand tightens around the hilt of a bandaged sword, flexing on it few times.
Ting!
The cause of their troubles and misfortunates shall be dragged down to the deepest pit.
"Alright, then," the mage spreads a piece of paper down on the table. It fills its whole surface, as she flattens it down more properly. She points her long nail down on a spot colored with light red color. "This is where we are."
Parsley swallows thickly the saliva gathering in her mouth. She has seen this map before while being tied up into a chair. She can clearly recall the voices of people and then the abuse. The young woman's stomach starts to clench itself and she has to sit down. This chair, in the kitchen next to the dining table, is more comfortable than the one back at the cell. It has a soft blanket thrown over it and feels smooth under the touch.
Seeing his owner getting relaxed, Sphynx jumps into her lap and feels immediately how her fingers are running through his fur. A deep purr comes out of him as a result. Parsley's lips twitch up, slightly, after hearing this.
"And this," the old woman points to a point not far away from the last one. "Is the place ya two escaped from, Konohagakure no Sato. You can say it is a capital of this country, that we are in, the Fire country."
Hazel eyes look up between the map and the mage. She sounds so confident in this. And the map looks so real. Frightened. That is how Parsley feels from analyzing the shapes and colors of different 'countries'. If someone were to try and create a fake reality and geographic shape of that reality, then that would certainly prove to be very challenging to those who don't have that kind of inspiration in them. But this map has detailed river routes, higher spots and lower ones accompanied with some islands around the sea area. Other lines form sea currents and then there are strange symbols on each patch of color on the land. They must be the names of the countries, but Parsley can't make out any of their meanings. She can only see lines and shapes.
She recognizes the writing as the same that the foreign organization tried to make her read. Truth to be told, Parsley thinks they were Chinese or Japanese people, but that thought sounded too absurd. The young woman isn't sure how those countries are being governed, but certainly they would not simply appear out of thin air with masks and weapons pointed at anyone who is simply passing by.
"How can you read the language?" Parsley asks after pondering it for a while.
"Obviously I learned it," the mage deadpans, but then waves her hand in the air, dismissingly. "There was someone who taught me, and that is that. As for ya, would it be interesting to give it a try?"
"No. Why would I do that?"
Green eyes look at her like she is a retarded student. "Obviously because ya are stuck in here for a while. And if ya are really planning to go out there and survive, then ya need to."
This time, Parsley raises an eyebrow. "I have no reason to go out there. I have to go home."
The old woman barks out a laugh and looks at her with a nasty smirk. It makes Parsley flinch. "Lass, ya don't even know half of the reason why ya should."
The younger woman frowns, getting slightly uneasy from the words, and shifts in her chair. She also hugs Sphynx closer and he leans into her touch. Why does she have that look in her eyes? The young woman averts her own gaze to the side and strokes the fur under her fingers nervously.
The mage continues, regardless of the little reaction she got. "Ya lost a lot of magical energy, when ya came here, right?"
The younger woman stiffens and looks back up. "How did you know?"
"Do ya still honestly think that I am only a crazy, old baboon?" A white eyebrow raises. When there is a heavy silence and a movement from a cat's tail, the mage clicks her tongue.
"…Such a thing, as another world, doesn't exist," Parsley mutters and looks away again.
The elderly female bristles. "Then why are you being so calm all of sudden and not shouting my head off and accusing me of 'imprisoning' you and your cat?"
"Maybe because I am tired," the magician states and rubs her somewhat red eyes. She lowers her hand, voice steadier than she thought. "I… just want to go home."
The mag stares at the young magician silently and drums her thin fingers against the table's surface. Parsley doesn't know what she is thinking, nor what kind of expression she has on. Instead, the hazel eyed woman continues stroking her cat's back in slow motions.
What if this is all real? Will I die in this strange place? As if trying to make herself feel even worse, she starts to see images of her dying self. Pale, twitching on the ground in both pain. All bones in the limbs broken and shattered. Blood pooling out from both her mouth and a gaping hole in the middle of the stomach. No! I don't want to!
"Lass, what do ya think happened, when ya came here?" The mage asks suddenly, snapping Parsley out of her horrible thoughts.
"U-um…" she stumbles with words. "I think… that the spell I used opened a wormhole of some sort?"
Green eyes blink and the old woman shrugs. "Well, in a way yes. But do ya think it was simply your power, that caused it to happen?"
Is she…? The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, as Parsley's hands start to sweat. "Are you saying that something else also caused it?"
"That is what I am trying to explain here. Shifting between two worlds acquires a large supply of power. If it isn't available, the user would simply be sucked dry, so to say."
Now, Parsley's face definitely pales, and Sphynx stiffens. She can feel his gaze dart between her and the other woman. The magician is starting to get the picture and she inhales shakily. At the time, she had simply thought it was a miracle and a horrible experience, but now she is realizing things could have been much worse.
She and her familiar could have actually died then and there, in the Windy Mountains, because she simply messed up a simple spell. The reality makes all the air nearly escape from her lungs. Parsley's mouth opens and closes like a fish from shock, while her whole body starts to tremble.
The magician thought her time with those black cloaked men had been the worst thing that has ever happened to her, but no. She has now escaped death around three to four times. She is still not sure, would she have died in the forest from passing out on the fairy or eventually from all the torture and physical stress. Either way, Parsley is overwhelmed.
"Do ya need a bucket? Ya look ready to throw up," the old woman comments after a while, sounding a tad bit amused.
Swallowing whatever is ready to rise up, Parsley's eyes start to feel hot. "N-no."
"Ya sure? If ya throw up, then ya will clean it all up, too."
"…I am sure," it comes out hesitantly and the young woman clenches her fists together under the table. She nearly jumps, when a sudden warmth touches her shoulder.
"Parsley, it is okay," Sphynx says, while rubbing his head against her.
She hopes that he doesn't notice her flinch, even though it is pretty obvious he can with the close proximity. After the natural reflex, she feels ashamed and startled by her own reaction. This is Sphynx, not a stranger who means any harm to her. Yet, her body had reacted to naturally to his presence and touch.
He had also been in danger to die, when she performed the spell. It is her fault that they ended up in this strange place in the first place. So how can he say that 'it is okay'? She doesn't see it that way. There is nothing alright with this situation. A tight lump starts to gather in her throat and makes her nearly choke on it. Pressure gathers in her chest, head and soon even her vision becomes blurry. For a moment, Parsley fears she might be dying from a heart attack – she trembles slightly.
I am crying… Her face warms up, and she lowers her gaze, embarrassed and ashamed. She can't begin to image how pathetic she must look to anyone who can see her right now. No doubt the mage finds her annoying.
As if reading her thought, the mage rolls her eyes. "Listen to ya cat, for once stupid lass. There is nothing for ya to fear inside this house, so stop that weeping already."
Those words are enough to make Parsley shut her eyes tightly. The older woman doesn't quite understand why she is like this. She doesn't even think about fearing this house or her. She is in shock and tears don't seem to stop easily. Her breaths come in and out, but quite heavily. She has to calm down.
Shakily wiping away the moistures liquid from her eyelashes, Parsley looks at the mage with a frown. She isn't quite used to people talking to her this way. Like nonchalantly, bluntly and somewhat rudely, when her upbringing had provided something else. Just hearing a rude tone makes the magician nearly flinch away. The yelling inside the cell room had been bad enough, though. So, Parsley guesses this kind of treatment is much better compared to that.
She is starting to see reason, why her cat doesn't completely dislike this woman. She can be as blunt as he, when needed. Though, maybe even more than he is sometimes. But tolerates her to some level. The mage has patched him and Parsley up, so the gratitude is probably keeping him from lashing out. Frankly, it is amusing to see him seethe in silent anger.
Naturally, her hazel eyes slide down to the feline to see him narrowing his golden eyes at the greyer figure on the other side of the table.
He really wouldn't be like this, if this woman wasn't worth it. Hazel eyes, red from all around, look towards the green ones with calculating look. Parsley wants to understand what is truly going inside that mind and figure out the truth. Should she really start believing the unbelievable?
"H-how did you come into this world?" She is hesitating. The words sound so weird and silly on her tongue, after they have come out, because it reminds her of a child.
The mage blows air through her nose and leans back in her chair. "Well, much like ya, I didn't choose to come in here willingly. Call it an accident of some sort and let us move on in yar case."
It is quite clear, that the subject is not something to be discussed anymore. There are holes in the short story. It doesn't give any details out, but Parsley simply brushes the questions off of herself. This is none of her business, and not something she should be focusing on.
Besides, the look on the old woman's face is so bitter and glum that nobody would dare to drag it any further. Well, Parsley can relate from her own experiences. She also doesn't wish to talk about them in detail.
There is a mutual understanding, even from Sphynx.
"Anyway," Parsley shakes her head, getting rid of any unnecessary stuff in it. "Do you possibly have any idea, what other source made it possible for us to cross over?"
"Don't look at me. I have no idea what caused ya two to pop out," the greying woman raises her hands in the air, the long sleeves flapping and sliding down from the movement.
Parsley frowns again and leans back. "Okay," she drags the word out of her mouth quietly under her breath. "Then how can I get back home?"
This time, the mage doesn't say anything, and she looks at Parsley with a look that almost screams pity and thoughtfulness. Her green eyes are sharp and have the same calculating look in them that Parsley had some moments ago. The roles have switched, and now the old woman is trying to figure the younger one out.
Parsley sits stiffly, not even Sphynx's body heat and soft fur can give her reassurance and comfort. Her insides are all twitching painfully, and her entire mouth goes dry like a desert in a second. The young magician gets a very bad feeling from simply trying to read the mood in the air. But she is certain, that if there is a way here, then there is a way back.
"Ya can try to find the source that brought ya and the cat here, use it to go back, or…" a dramatic pause. The older mage is doing it on purpose and looking at the reactions Parsley and Sphynx are having. The magician's eyes are wide, even she can feel it despite the whirlwind and impatient emotions. As for the cat, he is staying quiet.
"Or ya can become a mage."
The first reaction Parsley has, is a snort. She covers it immediately with her hand, but the damage has already been done. Her shoulders are shaking, and she has no idea what is so amusing in this situation. But after a second of registering the situation and trying to calm down, Parsley has figured out why. Honestly, she is finding these opportunities and choices ridiculous. Is she expecting me to take the latter? Ha!
It is starting to feel like the mage is trying to drive the magician into a corner, trying to show and convince that there really aren't any other options. Parsley starts to get suspicious vibes, after she starts to catch her breath and wipes away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.
However, the young woman's face freezes into a firm mask, when she notices the look she is being given. The green eyes don't look amused.
"Are you being serious?" Sphynx is the one who brings up the question on his master's lips. He jumps on the table and walks across the map to the old woman. "How can you expect her to go through with any of those options?"
Parsley raises an eyebrow. She isn't sure, if he means it or not, but she is starting to think her familiar is actually doubting her capability of even going out to find a way back home. Somehow, it makes her feel like a coward, and betrayed. Flustered, Parsley bites down on her tongue and continues watching the exchange.
"Do ya even know how to get the two of ya out of this world?" The mage asks back and raises and eyebrow in a mocking manner. When she only gets silence as an answer, a small grin spreads on her dry lips. "Didn't think so. By becoming a mage, she will have a much better chance in surviving and getting back home."
Not liking the position her friend is being put in, Parsley stands up and reaches out to him. She scoops him up and the feline doesn't resist and sits on her shoulder.
The young woman admits, that the mage is somewhat making a good point. Naturally, Parsley and Sphynx will be defenseless and can't possibly protect themselves, like last time during the encounter with the masked people. Not to mention how poor she is in using magic in the first place. But, the method she should use in order to avoid danger isn't appealing. Becoming something like that will put a brand on me. Parsley doesn't want to live the rest of her life holding a secret.
"I-I'm sorry. But I will never become a mage," she says it with a serious face. The tone leaving no room for an argument. Parsley's twitches again from nervousness of declining the option but doesn't back down. Despite not knowing what her answer could trigger in the old woman. Though, Parsley adds after a pause: "I could get into serious trouble from simply becoming one… and I doubt I would ever have the capability of using that sort of magic, when I am in… incapable of even mastering the basic of magical studies."
It is the truth. Hazel orbs lower down to the table. This is a hobby Parsley seems to have under a sudden depression, she herself has noticed. It is because I keep on messing up that I am here.
"Tell me lass, how bad are you with magic? Surely the cat was exasperating, when he told me about it, ha!" The old lady cackles at the end, truly thinking her words have light meaning.
The question makes Parsley's cheeks warm up and the said cat has a similar, awkward reaction to the question. Parsley slowly drags her gaze down at her friend, who refuses to meet her eyes. He is obviously trying to avoid it on purpose and stiffens, when the arms around him tighten warningly. The magician is not happy from hearing what Sphynx has been spouting out about her and gives herself a mental note to talk with him later.
However, Parsley is also avoiding the eye contact. Her face feels even hotter, when the silence in the room is dragged on and embarrassing memories fill her head. Don't open your mouth, don't open your mouth! You will only shame yourself even more! Despite having some of her modesty showed back, Parsley is starting to realize how hideous she still seems.
Finally, it seems like the mage has figured things out and barks out an even louder laugh. Parsley flinches from hearing this and her head unconsciously lowers, her long bangs hiding half of her beef red face.
"I-is it true that ya blew up a hole in ya friend's house? Through the ceiling?"
What did he tell her!?
The mage calms down, but the nasty grin on her face isn't gone. "Ya still think ya can find a way back home with a talent like ya have? I would think ya have no talent at all! Ha!"
Parsley flinches, words hitting her hard in the heart. It throbs few times, before she inhales and swallows a tight lump in her throat. She can't show another weak and embarrassing side of her now. She has suffered enough humiliation as it is. And the way the mage just put it reminds Parsley of her time in school few years ago. A teacher of hers had said the same thing.
"What about you?" She asks quietly at first, but when her voice doesn't reach above the laugher, Parsley raises it, face red, but from different reason than before. "Why are you still in here? If you know the way back, then why you have stayed in here?"
The laugher doesn't ease, but the grey-haired woman manages to answer. "Even if I returned to our world, there would be nothing there for me, brat. My family died, when I was young, and shortly after that I arrived here. End of story." Hazel eyes waver from the new information and Parsley starts to feel a little bad for asking. But the mage doesn't seem bothered even a little. She wears a nonchalant expression and picks up dirt under her long fingernails. "Enough with this nonsense talk. Go take a bath and let's call it a night."
"Wait! We are not done," Parsley says in panic. There are still things she wants to ask. She is desperate to get answers.
"Oh, yes we are. If I have to sit around here a moment longer with ya smelly being near the whole time, then it is my time to barf," the mage states and stands up with her staff, ignoring the young woman's distraught expression.
Parsley is honestly starting to lose the smallest fragments of her patience and she fights an urge to rip her hair off, as she watches the older woman walk out of the kitchen. She has left the map on the table, with many unanswered questions and confused the magician even further. Wait, do I even remember anything we talked about? She wanted to way to go back, but she is still unsure what to do. They don't even know where they have to go and what truly caused the spell to open a portal. Just for what have the three of them been doing in this room for the past half an hour?
When the mage is out of sight, Parsley looks down at the map on the table helplessly and lowers herself on the chair. She covers her face with her hands and leans back slowly. The nerves in her body, however, make her stand back up and pace around the kitchen without any destination. The pulling is finally taking a toll on the roots and few strands float down to the wooden floor. Noticing this, Parsley crosses her arms and walks towards the window.
First the incident with Robin… she doesn't even know what he was. Nor has the mage told her name. Does she even have one? Why is she keeping all the important stuff in the dark? The questions are making Parsley more doubtful and suspicious of her host. But one thing is clear, though. She knows that this place isn't her world anymore.
But what about the fairy and the tree spirit? Why this world has those as well? The fairy hadn't given a valid reason for her willingness to help a human. Despite probably knowing that the said human was a magician. She had showed clear dislike towards Parsley.
Goosebumps appear around the woman's arms and she rubs them through her sleeves. She recalls easily the time in the forest and in those hollow hallways. The moments, when her heart almost jumped out of the ribcage are memories that make her legs grow weak. Parsley tries not to think, she wants to empty her mind from those moments. It didn't happen that long ago, though. So, the memories are fresh and will definitely feel like it for a long time.
Parsley looks down at her wrists, blinks and can almost see faint, red lines on them, long fingernails covered in dirt, and skin filled with light bruising and blood. Wait, did I get wounded back there? She did. Back with the scarred man.
A chill goes down her back, her knees grow weak. But then she almost jumps out of her skin, when Sphynx jumps on the windowsill right in front of her.
"Are you alright?" He asks and one of his ears twitch.
Parsley shakes her head immediately and rubs her face. "Sphynx, I-I can't calm down. I-it… feels like my heartbeat is too high."
"You look ready to cry as well," he says, but not in an offending way. There is worry in his tone.
The comment hits the nail on the head, a bit too well. She nods weakly and starts to feel the salty liquid gathering in her eyes but holds them back. It isn't like she has enough reason to cry now. The magician is simply frustrated, like a child that is about to have a meltdown.
The bluish furred feline doesn't move, as he is picket up. He is raised to an eyelevel with his mistress who frowns, clearly forcing her gloomy mood down. Though, the trembling lower lip tells that she is close on losing the battle. "I don't smell that bad, right?"
Parsley watches the cat take few sniffs, before his whole face wrinkles. "Yes, you do."
"You aren't supposed to say that!" Actually offended, she lowers him and walks out of the kitchen with a huff. Maybe, if circumstances were different, she would find his comment a bit funny. But now, when she feels like a weight of a brick is on her shoulders, Parsley feels even worse.
"That girl sure is a pain in the arse."
Sphynx turns his small head slightly to glare up at the old woman. She is in the middle of drinking tea from an overly delicate-looking cup – no doubt made out of porcelain – Where did she even get it? – and leans back on her chair with satisfied sigh.
Despite offering to a magician to become someone like her, the mage couldn't look less concerned about the state she had left Parsley in. It makes the bluish furred cat feel a tad bit irritated.
First, he has failed to cheer his ward up miserably. No familiar method has worked so far; Not the gentle and reassuring words of sweet and warm promises; Not purring against the stomach or the skin on the face; Nothing has had any effect on Parsley. She merely keeps brushing him off – not that he is hurt from receiving such cold and distant treatment. In fact, he has totally expected this from the moment she woke up in this house.
His magician goes alongside her emotions. She is displeased with everything. Hurt, afraid and confused to the point she practically radiates all of those emotions. He has felt them during the few minutes he had been beside her after the conversation in the kitchen, and even when she had trailed towards a bathroom quietly and closed the door behind herself. It served and serves as a barrier between them.
"All I have tried is to help her and this is the 'thank you' I get? Bah! Youngsters certainly have forgotten how to treat the elderly," the last sentence is muttered quietly, but the words can't escape from the ears of a cat.
The mage huffs and takes out a pipe, snapping her fingers and creating a small spark out of thin air.
Sphynx perks up, his mind racing throughout the years of experience and studying. Fire magic; Beginners course number two, from the book of 'Elements of Magic' by John Miller, 2016. Create tense, but small energy core between your fingers by drawing magic across the length of your arm and releasing the tension afterwards with a snap of your fingers. His fur nearly stands up, when he recalls the last rows of the chapter. Warnings: Too large concentration can cause fire to spread across all the tissues of an arm. In worst cases, fire magic will consume the entire body of its wielder, or it will stay in the arm and burn it off. Proceed with caution and careful steps. Use protective barrier.
He never liked those lessons. The ones where Parsley could be at risk, but neither did she. He could always tell, when her nerves burned with anxiety.
However, the familiar knows that the old mage didn't use her own magical energy to create a small fire. She drew it from the air around them. Something, which is forbidden.
A puff of smoke comes between dry lips. The grey cloud spreads in the air, until it has faded completely with a faint scent of smoke left floating around the room. Because Parsley's father has a tendency to smoke sometimes, Sphynx is used to it. Though, he can't stop from wrinkling his nose in distaste.
The mage inhales the smoke again and blows it out for the second time. "It surprises me that ya have not abandoned that brat, yet."
Whether the words were supposed to rile him up or not, he could not care less. He works on instinct and gets defensive – his ears flat against his head as a natural reaction. "What do you mean?"
"I know ya are like a mother hen around her, sometimes," she starts, ignoring his stance that indicates him to be ready to pounce. "But yar kin – especially cats – are picky about their owners. Not to mention that the lass is incomplete with ya, ya know."
Surprisingly, Sphynx doesn't get angry at all. Instead, he becomes almost thoughtful.
He does know. There was once a time, when Parsley's family member had noticed it as well. Sphynx is also sure that her parents have at some point doubted how both their daughter and her familiar could get along. Instead of it becoming disastrous, the magic cat has developed ways to guide his master. Even if she is a hopeless case in magic studies, he sees her as a part of her family. And that is what matters the most to familiars.
But, he does admit. That in situations like these, he can do nothing. He has shrugged off the circumstances that have lead the two of them to this point, but it seems like the magician has not. She has closed herself into self-pity and fear. That combination is more than enough for her not to be able to take in any kind of comfort at this point, unfortunately.
Sphynx almost wants to start hitting his head against the nearest wall. Sure, they are in an unfamiliar place – a world – surrounded by even crazier and unnatural creatures and people, but that hasn't made him flinch even a little. He has always gone mostly with the flow. In his eyes, they would simply need to find a way to send the two of them back and the problem would be solved. I swear… The things I do for her.
"Can you help us?"
"Weren't ya listening, when I explained how that is done?"
"I did. But can you helpus in any way?"
A white eyebrow is raised, and the mage tilts her head. "Exactly what are ya expecting me to do? Do ya expect me to use a spell to find out what caused ya two to crossover here? Or perhaps ya want me to be one of those crappy guides in museums and drag ya all over this world?"
"…" The cat can only stare up at her emotionlessly. Honestly, he may have imagined some of things at some point.
"How predictable…" she mutters under her breath, but then waves her hand. "Stop looking at me like that. Ya look too much like an animal."
Sphynx nearly huffs from that. "I am an animal."
"Ya are a familiar of a magician," she states and places her pipe down, before blowing last smoke away. "Anyway, do ya not have anything better to do than bothering me?"
"Currently Parsley is occupied. So, I have time."
The old mage smirks dryly. "Are ya sure that ya should leave the lass alone? She might really give up on everything soon and hang herself with the bathrobe."
"She won't," Sphynx's eyes harden, but otherwise he is calm. He isn't worried about what the woman has just said to him. Parsley won't commit a suicide, as long as he is still around and by her side.
Green eyes slide from the pipe to the feline for a second with disinterest in them, before closing. Thin shoulders fall and rise under the thick looking woolen scarf. With her face looking a bit lax now, she has an air of a much younger woman. The mage is truly absorbed in her own little world for a moment, until she opens her eyes again and looks out of the window.
"You put so much faith in her," she comments and leaves her words hanging in the room.
Sphynx has noticed it before, but she really has the sharpest eyes. Not in a form of their shape or color, but rather how they look at everything. He can't exactly call it contempt – though, it may be close enough and laced with dull amusement. Even now, a cryptical smile plays on her dry lips. The expression on her face looks bitter to the feline, yet as soon as it is there it is gone as well.
Unlike most of the humans – magicians are countable as well – this woman has an air of mystery to her. Not only is the magic around her nearly visible, it covers her and the whole house like a cloak. It is thin but concealing. To the tips of her hair and eyelashes, Sphynx can smell the tingling spells and it sends a soft vibration throughout his body. He has never been around this much stored and well-maintained magic before. To him, it smells pleasant.
"Ya know, all of ya familiars are so…" she trails off, looking almost lost what to say next, but then she simply blows a raspberry and stands up. "If ya truly want me to help ya two, then don't complain later. Alright, furball?"
He refuses to bristle from the way she has addressed him. "Fine. But, do tell me what you are about to do."
She has changed her mind and words so easily, that it is suspicious. The cat wonders what has caused the change of tune so suddenly. Because he isn't sure about it, he can't say that he is happy that his will went through. There is no ill meant intention around her, nor does he sense any kind of negative emotion coming from her.
As if she could care less what he thinks, the old woman limps out of the room with her staff. Her gaze is focused on ahead, but her eyes seem to be clouded by deep thoughts. "That mistress of yars better stop crying by the time I am finished. Because we are all outsiders here, we need to stand on our own feet. This world doesn't take kindly to people like us."
That really doesn't answer his question, but Sphynx lets it slide. For now, at least. No matter how vexed he is starting to get by the vague words, he needs this woman's help – he and Parsley do.
Parsley brushes her wavy hair back into a low ponytail and brushes few more strands behind her ear. Instead of seeing her white, dirty shirt in the reflection, a brownish cape is covering her from neck below and nearly brushes the ground. The magician is grateful from getting a new set of clothes, but these are not exactly the ones she had in mind. Under the cape, she is wearing a light pink dress, and it clashes painfully with the green, whenever the cape moves to the side.
More importantly, it is a dress she is currently wearing. The last time she did, Parsley was about ten years younger. The shoes she is wearing are also too strange and look more like a pair of sandals than real shoes.
Her feelings must be clear on her face, because Sphynx whispers: "Parsley, your face is wrinkling."
She shoots him a look, which he replies by shrugging his shoulders. It is kind of weird to see a cat do that, so Parsley looks back to the mirror.
Despite not liking that state of her clothes, she admits that her hair looks much better after a bath. The grim dark drops of dried blood on the tips she had discovered at one point are gone. The roots are not greasy anymore and every bit of hair looks clean and soft to the touch. It is one good point Parsley has ever found in her locks. The waves they have make them look fuzzy and healthy. Though, she also finds that as flaw. Sometimes, they are so fuzzy in fact that the whole thing might start to look close to an afro. Luckily, she managed to find a way to tie it earlier.
However, it is her face that makes the warm blood in Parsley's veins freeze. She looks so different, that it is startling. Her warmly tanned skins healthy glow is gone, and paler version has taken its place. The fat on her face has lessened some amount, as well. So, she looks much thinner – something she should be happy about but isn't. The way she lost pounds… was by starvation. The abrupt loss has left scars on the skin – Parsley has seen them, when changing. They are so thin, but visible and mar the area of stomach and thighs. She has never thought how long one would need to starve to become like this, but it seems she had been in that pit long enough for that to happen.
No sunlight, food, water, warmth or comfort of any sort had been given, and the reflection Parsley is seeing is the result. Pale, almost sickly thin version of herself with dark rings under hazel eyes.
Just then, the mage woman returns, and Parsley quickly cools her expression – barely managing to keep her facial muscles from twitching – and turns away from the mirror, long hem flowing in the air. She cringes from the feeling of the wind against her legs, though. It would take some time to get used to this.
"Hmph!" The older woman crosses her arms.
Green orbs eye the magician critically from the tip of her visible flat shoes to the top of her now clean head. Parsley feels uncomfortable under such observation and shifts her weight from one leg to another while glancing around the place. She is not too sure, what is behind this sudden dressing up. But she does have a small idea, that is not so pleasant. We are going out.
"Ya two look decent enough. Now, let's go," the mage says and turns her back to the woman and the cat.
Parsley feels her stomach make a turn together with her other intestines. She had been right with her assumptions. Though, it should have been pretty obvious what is going to happen, but she is not prepared enough. "Where are we going?"
"Isn't it obvious?" The old woman asks and pushes the wooden door open, letting some sunlight in easily. Her frail looking hands continues holding it open, green eyes looking at hazel ones with impatience. "To town."
Her fears become worse and Parsley takes a small step back. But when Sphynx jumps gracefully to her shoulder, her loud heartbeat softens a bit. Sweat forms on her hands, though. "W-why?"
The old mage looks one hundred percent done and lifts her staff. "What is up with that stupid expression? Hurry up."
Parsley's entire body stiffens, not that it already hadn't. But this is different, because she actually starts to move forward. Her mind is blank for a second, but then starts to work and a panicked expression forms on her face. It should be her brain giving orders to limbs, not some nonexistent force that is currently making her move towards the open door. What is worse, it is easy to comprehend that this is the mage's doing.
An impish smile spreads across thin and wrinkly lips, revealing dirty yellow teeth. The sight makes the magician feel repulsed and frightened.
Sphynx must have same thoughts and finally starts to understand that everything is not right, because a low growl erupts from his small chest. "What are you doing to Parsley!?"
"Calm down, furball," the mage says easily, still looking amused by the expression on Parsley's face. "If she needs some help to get out, then so be it. We don't have all day to wait for her to make up her mind, ya know."
Sphynx is still growling, his claws gracing faintly his owner's shoulder through fabric. Parsley is glad that he is trying to defend her, for she can't get a word out of her mouth. She wonders, if it is the mage using her tricks again, or if she herself is simply too flabbergasted to utter a sound. Either way, she makes it out of the house – hut, or whatever it is called – and feels the warmth and the light of the sun warm and blind her.
But, to the magician's astonishment she can move freely again. Whatever enchantment or spell she had been under a second ago, it is gone now.
Thin whiskers tickle Parsley's cheek and she twists her neck slightly to look at Sphynx. He blinks once. "You okay?"
"Y-yeah…" she trails off, but then snaps from whatever bafflement is left in her and whirls around to face the mage who calmly walks past her. "W-what w-was that!?"
She simply rolls her green eyes like that would be an answer enough for the young woman. "Enough with pointless questions. I have waited long enough, and my supplies don't grow fuller by sitting around in my house."
"Supplies?" Sphynx asks, completely clueless. Just like his owner who starts to take hesitant steps forward. She doesn't want to repeat the previous experience of being controlled. "Wouldn't going into a town be dangerous? Aren't there other one of those people there?"
Parsley mentally agrees with him and keeps the distance between the old woman and herself. The further away they are from the hay roofed house, Parsley becomes more uneasy.
"Yes and no," is the nonchalant answer. "We will not be going anywhere near the country where ya two escaped from."
Two pairs of eyes – hazel and gold – meet in silent question. They are both filled with uncertainty.
Parsley feels out of place in the middle of the sea of people. The scents, sounds, different face are an overwhelming sight. So much so, that she has frozen to her spot, legs firmly placed on the ground and eyes staring widely around the marketplace. There are too many things to experience with senses that she can't think straight.
Something collides with her shoulder, making the young woman gasp and stumble away like a frightened mouse. Her hazel eyes wide, she looks at a rough small man recovering the collision and turning to glare at her with a red face. It makes an electricity wave of panic go up and down her spine. She takes a step back, as a thick finger is pointed at her.
Foreign words flow out of his mouth at rapid pace, sending Parsley's nerves skyrocketing. W-what is h-he saying!?
Her mouth opens and closes, about to form a reply. But a cold chill racking her body reminds and warns her against it. She realizes that simply staying quiet and not revealing that she doesn't understand a thing would be the best choice. But…
What should I do!? She looks around in panic, sweat forming from walking too long and the bright scorching sun boiling the top of her head. The way spit is flying from the older man's mouth towards her isn't helping at all. W-where is Sphynx?! A-and the m-mage!? Her eyes dart around hysterically and then they land on the angry male continuously raising his voice and gaining the attention of the people passing by. Parsley starts to feel faint and trembles, wishing for the earth to swallow her. Wh-why won't he stop y-yelling at me!?
Despite being outside where there is plenty of air to breathe in, she feels like she can't draw in breath properly anymore. Now, she notices just how many pairs of eyes there are upon her and their invisible pressure blocks any kind of airway. Her ears strain from trying to make sense of nonsense-like muttering happening around the small circle forming around her and the older man.
Parsley wants to say something. To make them back off or stop the man from yelling at her. She didn't do anything wrong, right? The two of them merely bumped against each other. Not understanding anything about this situation is so frustrating and scary. W-what am I-I supposed to do? Tears start to gather in her eyes and under the long hem Parsley's knees have started to buckle against each other. Should I w-walk away? The figures around her start to become blurry spots. B-but there are s-so many…
"Oi. Nani shiteruno?" Suddenly, a bony hand is gripping Parsley's upper arm. She stiffens but relaxes before a panic can take over her. It is the old mage and she looks at the young woman with a bored expression. Her sudden appearance has caused the man fall silent for a second, before his baffled expression turns into anger, again. He starts speaking with the same tone that he used on Parsley, but this time it is directed at the grey-haired woman.
Somehow, Parsley feels a chill, when the strong hold on her arm loosens and green eyes turn from bored to irritated. "Nani?" The man has obviously done or said something he shouldn't have.
Soft brush against the side of her leg tells the young magician that her cat has arrived at the scene. She looks down to see she is right and quickly picks her friend up. He calmly places his head against her shoulder and lets his owner's fingers threat through his fur like a comb. Though, Parsley is certain he can sense her anxiety and lingering fear from the amount of people around them but tries to act neutral about it.
She wants to ask where the mage and her familiar had disappeared to all of sudden and what took them so long to come and help her. But she bites down on her tongue instead. She doesn't even dare to go through with the thought of whispering. Instead, she focuses nervously to the scene happening before them.
The mage is pointing her staff towards the man, who is now oddly silent. In fact, he looks very awkward with his hands resting on his side almost limply and staring wide-eyed – if not a little horrified – at the wrinkled woman. Parsley almost feels bad for him. Almost.
Both cat and the magician flinch, when the old woman spits on the ground. It startles mostly everyone who see it. But she doesn't give them much thought and walks away, gesturing for Parsley to follow her. The young woman does exactly that, not wanting to stick out in the middle of the crowd anymore.
"Why didn't ya stay close like I instructed?" Is the first thing the old woman hisses out at Parsley, once they are certainly out of sight. Spit flies between her teeth. "Do ya have any idea what a scene ya caused?"
"I-I…" Parsley stammers, still a bit shocked from what had happened. She holds Sphynx closer and lowers her slightly wet eyes. "I am sorry."
"Ya should be," the mage sighs. "Well, enough of that. Wipe away those tears and let's get moving again. I am already late."
Sphynx licks one strain tear away from Parsley's cheek. "It will be fine. I will stay with you from now on."
She looks down at his small furry face for a while, but then smiles a little and strokes the area behind his ear. "Good. That man was so scary."
The old woman snorts from hearing her comment. "He was all bark but no bite. Ya can find a lot of those kind of people around these parts. Remember to walk away the next time someone stops ya."
"There were so many people around me," she says and starts to follow the older woman out from their small hiding spot. "I didn't know what to do."
Another snort. "They are people. Not animals that will bite ya."
Parsley stiffens, repeating those words in her head. The mage is right, and she starts to feel stupid for reacting the way she had. She has no idea how come she felt so threatened while standing in the middle of the marketplace. It isn't like she has always liked to be surrounded by so many people, but she does admit that her earlier reaction had been a bit extreme –
No. My reaction was completely normal. Does she literally have to embrace these foreign people after what she has been through? Because if this mage is expecting that to happen, then she is gravely mistaken.
Sphynx must be on the edge, because he hisses: "We didn't ask your comment on this."
"Ya also didn't ask me to rescue ya from the woods or heal yar wounds and lo and behold how that turned out."
The conversation ends there and the three are walking in silence towards the crowd of people for the second time today. Parsley's anxiety returns, and she starts to bite down on her lower lip and tongue repeatedly.
She really can't help, but picture that same dark room, whenever she glances at an unfamiliar face, or hears the foreign language. Her stomach drops into a pit of despair every time. She can't stand the thought of staying in this place for too long. The skin under the fabric of the sleeves is filled with goosebumps, despite it being a warm day.
The different scents – unfamiliar ones – are starting to become suffocating. There is no familiar scent of salt or fish. No seagulls screaming everyone's ears off nor that dog that barks every time someone passes by its owner's flat.
The young woman nearly whimpers under her breath, as she starts to take more quicker steps. If Sphynx hears or notices this, he doesn't say or show it.
Ting!
A faint sound of bells reaches Parsley's ears, but she doesn't think much about it. It is just another unfamiliar noise for her ears to hear. But for a frighteningly long second, she thinks there is a smell of metal in the air.
Ting! Ting!
They arrive to a less busy corner of the town. Parsley thinks she can call it a suburb of some kind. There are also less people, but that fact does not make her feel any better. Instead, she feels like this is an area that someone could call a dumpster town – a place she should not be at.
The houses and residents look… broken, if that is the right description. Parsley doesn't look around much, but she has seen few houses that are completely in ruins and some's walls have fallen. The sun is shining, but it does nothing to brighten up the mood of the area. There are no stalls filled with food or stuff for anyone to buy. Only cardboard boxes serve either as a resting area or have small useless looking objects on them.
Hesitantly, Parsley glances to the side – only to see three men dressed in drags standing in the shadow of an alley. They all have a bad vibe to them, so she averts her gaze back to the ground in a hurry. A cold chill goes down her spine, thinking that for a moment one of them had looked to her direction.
She has never been in a place like this one. It is terrifying.
"Stay low, bite your tongue, do not look anyone in the eye and stay close," is what the old mage told her – ordered – to do. It is necessary, though, and Parsley wholeheartedly agrees.
Still… Her hazel eyes trail up to the back of the dress hovering above the ground ahead. The heels are bare because of the straw-sandals and look dry and covered in dirt from the ground. The eyes trail up to the long hair, put slightly up with a messy braid. Why can't she tell me why we are here? This place is too… dirty. Her arms tighten around Sphynx. It is something she has been doing a lot during the period of time they have been walking. He must be displeased by the constant squeezing, for he has released a quiet growl every time the arms around him become too tight. And every time it happens, Parsley doesn't bother to even mutter a very, very quiet 'sorry'. Her nerves are as rigid as are her muscles – ready to bolt.
Those surviving instincts get worse, when she has to follow the withering woman inside a building. It isn't big compared to the others around it, nor is it smaller than them. It looks ordinary, made out of hard rock and a rusting metal roof covers the top like an overly used hat. And when the magician is fully in, the stench of the metal and grass fills her nostrils.
Honestly, she really would prefer the busy street over this dump. It feels so much hotter in here than outside.
Suddenly, the mage stops and turns to look at her in the eyes. She raises one bony finger and points down to the ground. Stay.
Reluctantly, Parsley glues her feet to the ground. She is uncertain what is going to happen, but it isn't like she knows where the safest direction to run to is. The young woman lets the warmth and softness of her familiar's fur be more than enough to soothe her.
Noticing that she is complying, the old woman gives a curt nod and walks to a counter made out of wobbly looking wood. She starts talking to a man behind it immediately.
And all that the magician can do, is stay put. Pretending to have no voice and meekly keep her gaze lowered in the suffocating warm, rundown shop. Beads of sweat start to glitter against her forehead and she bites down on her tongue.
Sphynx's nose twitches together with his ears. He lays his head in the human woman's arms but does not lower his guard. He knows the old mage can sense the gathering magic around him.
When the mage is done with talking, she reaches out into her cape and pulls out a small pouch. From Parsley's point of view, it looks very small and can barely hold in a few rocks. Still, the man behind the poorly made counter seems to brighten up upon seeing the small pouch and takes it carefully like it's a precious porcelain piece. In exchange, he pushes another pouch towards the older woman and she takes it without a word.
What are they…? Parsley nearly tilts her head, but stiffens, when the old woman turns around and starts walking towards her.
Let's go, is what she seems to be saying, when she walks past the young magician. Parsley follows her without hesitation.
When they walk through the town again, the mage is silent. And even when the trio makes their way through the thick forest, nobody speaks. It isn't until they reach the house hidden deep within the magical woods that some of the tension lifts up. It is barely noticeable change, but becomes clearer, when the old woman sets down her stuff on table and turns to look at the magician who is in the middle of taking off her large coat.
Parsley freezes a little, when she notices that green eyes are holding her in their range. The rough coat almost slips off from her fingers, but she manages to put it on top of a nearby chair.
Sphynx keeps a watch on the situation from the ground, ears flicking back and forth. His eyes do the same between his owner and the mage in a curious manner.
"Where is yar mark?"
"…Pardon?" Parsley frowns after a while and tilts her head in confusion.
The old mage rolls her eyes. "The mark – Oh, forget it! I will find it myself."
Before the young woman or her feline familiar can understand what is happening, Parsley's shirt is lifted high up in the air. It covers her vision, but she doesn't need eyes to feel how the slightly cooler air touches the area of her stomach's skin. Goosebumps spread before she can even think.
Parsley feels cold from multiple reasons. Her shirt is all up and even over her chest – the fact makes her mind shut down for a second – and the wrinkly hand gripping the fabric doesn't seem to be ready to let go of it any time soon.
Her face twitches for a second, turns white and red, but then she starts struggling. Through the shirt, her muffled shouts are heard: "W-what are you doing!?"
"Stay put, would ya!" The mage snarls – actually snarls – and her hold doesn't loosen no matter how much Parsley is struggling. "I need to find it. Hey, cat! They still put those around the chest?"
"What are you talking about?" Sphynx drawls out slowly, but then pauses.
Parsley also pauses with her struggling, when she hears no further reply from her friend. And frankly, it is slightly irritating. Can't he see how uncomfortable and embarrassing this is? Not to mention the old woman hasn't explained what she is doing. Also, she has found out that despite looking old and frail, the mage has one tight grip and the shirt is already starting to slightly suffocate the magician.
"Oh," the cat finally lets out. "You mean the M-COP? I believe it was placed on Parsley's lower back."
The said woman wants to whirl around and look at her cat in confusion and annoyance. She gets her wish rather soon and the shirt is lowered. However, she is turned around by the old woman with her strong grip on the shoulder the back of the shirt is lifted instead. "Wha-!?"
"Ha! Found it!" A dry hand is placed on top of the skin and Parsley freezes in horror. "Stay still!"
Parsley is doing the exact opposite and tries to scratch the hands holding her. "S-stop it! Let me go!"
"Cat! Tell yar missy to calm down!"
"Sphynx! Help!"
Instead sounding worried or concerned for her wellbeing, the familiar simply replies calmly right in front of his mistress: "Calm down. She isn't going to hurt you."
She feels betrayed and doesn't believe what she is hearing. "Sphynx! This isn't funny! What is she doing!? Help me! Help-"
Her breath stops flowing into her lungs the moment a sharp pain slides up and down her spine. The cries of pain stop and for a few seconds there is silence in the whole house.
Hazel eyes widen in shock and the abrupt heat spreading across every corner of Parsley's body. The skin starts to burn, awfully so, but the worst part comes from where the mage's hand is propably staying at. Waves of warm and cold are pulsing from there, but most of all there is this sharp pain that creaks every bone near the area. One second it is like fire tries to enter the veins flowing with blood, then it changes into ice from the fear Parsley experience, and then the cycle is repeated… Though, in the end, the fire wins, and she opens her mouth wide, letting out a scream that strains her throat.
Her trashing doesn't cease, but it does become less violent. There is numbness spreading from where the pain is originating from and it goes all the way to her limbs and towards her head. Though, a loud prayer in her mind wishes for the numbness to take away the pain – it doesn't.
The world swirls in Parsley's eyes and through haziness and ringing in her ears, she can tell that she has fallen down to the floor. She thinks she is seeing Sphynx appear before her for a moment but can't really tell. She has to close her tearstained eyes tightly and continue screaming and beg for the pain to go away.
This reminds her of the time, when she used the transportation spell accidentally. That time had been worse than this – the sensations are more the slightly different – but the young magician doesn't wish to experience this. It is like she is dying in fire, if that is how she can explain it properly enough. She can't breathe properly, for it feels like there comes another wave of pain every time she does.
Why? The question manages to enter her mind in the middle of the torturing session. Why do these things keep on happening to me?
The numbness has spread to her head, but she can still think and feel a hand pushing it down. Her hazel eyes beg for anything to help her through the blurry vision.
And miraculously, she can hear Sphynx's voice. "Parsley! It is over! You are in no danger!"
What does he mean? Parsley is still screaming; her throat is hurting; she feels cold… However, those are the only painful sensations she is getting now. Everything comes together very slowly, so slowly in fact that a minute or two might have already passed, when Parsley tries to sit up.
There is no burning whatsoever and the hand that had been on her back is gone. Parsley blinks and the cat causes the remaining, frozen tears to slide down her cheeks. It… it is over?
She inhales, loudly, shakily and the sound is enough to make the young woman snap out of it. The first thing she notices or feels is Sphynx and how he has both of his paws resting on her thighs. His golden eyes peer up at her hazel ones.
She knows that there is concern plastered on his small furry face – it is obvious. But, it does not wipe away the fact that he just allowed for the mage to… nearly burn her alive. Hazel eyes narrow down at him, instead of being relieved. And then turn to look back to see the mage wipe some imaginary dust off of herself. The sight of it makes Parsley's stomach turn.
"W-what d-did you do?" She wheezes out and winces from hearing how rough her voice sounds. Not to mention it burns from her screaming.
"Just removed an obstacle."
Parsley blinks, processing the words for a second, before pushing Sphynx off and standing up. Though, she nearly falls, when her vision starts to blur. "An… an obstacle? Ha!" She laughs, void of any sort of humor. "What kind of obstacle did you have to remove so painfully!?"
"Oh, grow up, will ya?" The mage replies, looking slightly peeved that Parsley is raising her voice at her. She points a single, wrinkled finger at her face. "Listen here! That spell on yar back was just in the way and I needed to remove it. But because I am not holding any piece of its caster's formula, I simply ripped it off."
Ripped off!? Panicking, the magician reaches back under her shirt and tries to feel her skin as carefully as possible. It is tender, but smooth and doesn't seem to have any lasting damages to it, but…
"Why did you remove the M-COP!?" She nearly shrieks, fully realizing what has happened and understanding the words she has just heard. "I need it! Give it back! I will die without it!"
A white eyebrow raises in amusement. "Die? Bah! What has that magic health counseling told ya people back in our world? Don't tell me they still," her words stop and a frown mars and deepens the wrinkles on her face. She looks anything but amused now. "Who am I kidding? Of course, they still feed those lies to ya all."
Parsley has had enough and grabs her by the shoulders. She starts shaking her. "What are you talking about!? Why did you remove my mark!? I knew you were dangerous! Are you trying to kill us!? Give it back!"
"Shut up!" In a second, the old woman has ripped herself away from the hysterically younger one and another second later she waves her staff in front of Parsley few times.
The magician finds herself stiff. It is the same sensation from this morning and sends bitterness throughout her mouth. The mage has casted her spell on her and the fact does cool her riled up nerves with fear. She may have crossed a line.
"I couldn't care a hell lot less what yar feelings are about this," her words are laced with poisonous growl. "Understand this: M-COP does nothing more than conceals magicians' true potential. That is why it was invented in the first place – to keep all of us in check!"
"You make no sense," Parsley almost whispers and then glares, but is still not able to move. She sees the mage's fingers twitch, and the invisible force around her tightens. But she doesn't shut up. "Why would anyone lie about this? The one who is lying is clearly you! Every magician is given this since the moment they are born and that is how we have been able to survive! The magic of the world will otherwise destroy us! We will crumble into a pile of stones, if we use magic without it! So please! Give it back to me!"
"Ya accuse me and ask for my help?" The old woman asks in disbelief and laughs coldly. "What utter nonsense! Ya truly are a naïve sheep ready to be eaten by wolves! Ha!"
Parsley tries to turn her head but is incapable of doing that. "Sphynx! Help me!"
"Stay out of this furball!" The mage snaps and turns her attention back to the young woman with a glare. "If she doesn't hear this and understand, then I might as well lock her into a room and force her to understand."
"Sphynx! Help!"
"Shut it!" As if the words are the only thing the old woman needs, Parsley's mouth clamps shut. Her lips are sealed, literally. She can't open them anymore and her eyes widen in terror which seems to please the mage greatly. "Good. Be a good little lass and stay that way. Yar constant screaming and whining will make me deaf, soon!" The staff is hit against the ground loudly to prove a point. The whole house is silent, deadly so, as its owner starts speaking again. "I once, too, had the M-COP mark. It was removed a long time ago, and I still haven't turned into stone, have I? That is because what the government of the Magic World has told is utter hogwash."
Parsley doesn't want to listen to this nonsense, but she can't say anything or even cover her ears. She can only listen helplessly what she is saying and take every word like a blow to the gut. She has never heard anyone saying such accuses towards the very thing that has kept the magic flowing in the world. It is outrageous! It is even more such because Sphynx has not uttered a word of disagreement. Parsley wishes to scream at him. What is he thinking!?
"Just accept the facts, Parsley," her name sounds so wrong coming out of the old woman's mouth. Come to think of it, isn't this the first time that she has used her name?
"Ya have been told nothing but lies yar whole life."
