He lets out a sharp gasp, then straightens himself. "If you know something, come forward." He takes my shoulders now.
"It's just that… I've heard the rumors about him, about Damien. That he's known to be a womanizer and he can become rather violent. I know that he didn't have real friends, and that he liked to keep to himself. He and I were… Not on good terms."
"Did he do something to you?" Garbiner urges.
"He… He and I didn't get along. I thought he was a bit… Slimy. Not because of the way he looks, but because… It always felt like he was toying with me. The way he talked to me, it was coy and sly. I couldn't trust him. He'd switch from being pleasant and friendly to hateful and furious out of nowhere. He would throw tantrums for the silliest of reasons and make spectacles in public. Then he kept showing up after some time had passed, acting as if he never hurt me at all."
"He hurt you?!" Grabiner shouts.
"Not physically. He kept calling me a 'witch'. That's how he reacted whenever I did something he didn't like. He almost acted like… Like I was his property. And my slightest rejection of him would set him off. "
"He never struck you did he?"
"No. But then he would apologize and try to offer me gifts afterward. Honestly, I tried to be his friend. I tried to understand him, but he kept exploding!" Why am I even saying this?
Grabiner doesn't look like he takes my confession lightly. "What else did he do?"
I look up at him, gratefully. His eyes are stern, he's collecting information, but for what purpose I can only imagine. It seems personal. "Anyway. The last time I saw him, he asked me out."
The look in Grabiner's face baffles me so immensely that I cannot even describe it.
"He always had been flirtatious. But I never thought he had any feelings for me! I… I said no."
A smile flashes on his face for a split second.
"Then he called me a 'witch' again! And we had this huge argument, and I threw the little stone flower he gave me to the ground. When he picked it up, he suddenly changed. He was still angry, but he was shocked. As if he realized something important. Then he said something really odd."
"What did he say?"
"He said… 'You were no innocent. You had nothing to give.' He never bothered me again after that."
What is that expression? Disgust?
"Why did you not request help?"
"I was never in any danger, and I know how to handle a bully." I feel a little calmer now. "I brought him up because… Well. He's dangerous isn't he? And I heard he got away."
The professor grunts and looks away. "Yes, he eluded Petunia's grasp. Do you fear for your safety?"
"I don't know if I should? I doubt I'm important to him. We weren't friends, we weren't together, and I only saw the guy every couple of weeks. I've even seen him flirting with other girls, so his asking me out might not have been serious. It's just… From what I've heard… He has this really suspicious track record. He tends to only go for the wildseeds. And, freshman wildseeds at that."
The professor's eyes pop. "You are correct. There is a pattern. Excluding his stable of favorites, all of Mr. Ramsey's partners of choice have been wildseed freshman girls. This is most unsettling."
"Do you think..? He could be a predator?"
He flexes his fingers and snaps his wrists. "It is a possibility. Mr. Ramsey has never been known to be faithful. He made sure to have himself a replacement nearby in case his current relationship faltered. And yes, I am aware of the romantic exploits of most students. The school is not very large, so word travels fast, and the walls are thin. Perhaps in an act of desperation, or lack of suitable females, your rejection of him caused for a substitute. You are correct, by the way. The boy was sexually harassed."
Eugh! That makes my stomach turn.
He begins to pace. "Petunia will hear word of this. If he is a predator of sorts, then he will most likely be searching out another target. We will have to warn nearby academies to shelter their wildseed girls especially. But before I do, I must ask you a few questions."
"Anything." I say honestly.
"When Mr. Ramsey would speak with you, was it mostly in demanding or condescending tones?"
"No. More playful really. He was cocky, and I could tell he thought I was a lot more naïve than I actually am. He liked that. He was eager to impress me."
"And did he experience radical changes in mood? From highs to lows?"
"Every time!"
"Did you spend time with him? Studying, clubs, maybe you shared lunch together?"
"No. I only saw him when I ran into him, he tried to ask me out to the Glen, but I was busy."
"What would set him off?"
"Whenever I didn't want to do what he wanted. When I didn't want to go to the Glen with him, he erupted in the hallway, we did try to reschedule. I thought it wouldn't do any harm if we went out to eat. I think he saw me at the booth for the Thanksgiving fundraiser, and he left a note in my room, but we both know I came back late and never saw it. The following morning he was banging on my door and said 'he saw me there!' He thought I stood him up... There was another time when Lady Angela-"
"Ms. Kirsch?"
"Yes. Her. She's his ex-girlfriend, and she confronted us when he came by to talk to me. He kept making it look like we were a couple, even though I kept insisting we weren't. Then he opened up to me about his past relationships, and I couldn't imagine why he would share these things with a stranger like me. When he asked me to write the love letter, it was supposed to be for him-"
"I was not aware of that."
"You weren't? But didn't he admit it was his idea?"
"He informed me that the letter ended up in my possession because of him, but not that it was meant to be his."
I recap on the other times he blew top.
"Now tell me about these gifts."
"He would say he's sorry, offer up his friendship again. Try to invite me somewhere or to play a game. The only literal gift he gave me was a flower stone he created himself. Each time he would let me in on a tidbit of personal information, and I never had to say a word. He would just start talking and never stop."
"You are aware that was a courting gift, were you not?"
"No! I did NOT know that! If I did, I would never have taken it! I didn't even want it in the first place. But I just felt sorry for him!" Why am I yelling? Why am I? So upset?
"I am sorry. I did not mean to…"
"No. No. I'm the one who should be sorry. I… It's just. He was my senior. I thought we could be friends. And... I didn't want to be like the others. I don't believe rumors. I wanted to give him a real chance, I didn't want to judge him because of his reputation or appearance. I know what that's like…" I clear my throat. "I knew he had girlfriend issues, and I found out that he was moody. But that didn't mean he was evil. He ticked me off, but he tried to make it up to me. He even bought me a pie from the Apple Festival. Him and I had fun at the Initiation barbecue. When it wasn't weird, we could even manage a decent conversation. And when he would open up, it was always so sad, but almost earnest. Yet… Even though he hadn't done anything too bad… I still didn't trust him. And I felt guilty for feeling that way. I thought I was as bad as the others..."
"Why would you feel that way? You have no need to pity him."
"I know! Because it turns out the rumors were right after all. He was horrible after all! And I wasted my time feeling guilty. I was nice to him and he tricked me! That's why I kept rejecting him, because I knew it all along! I'm never wrong about these things! And that's what makes me so mad! I wasted my time thinking there could be good in him!"
Professor Grabiner is silent.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He… I don't like him. I never felt safe around him. I tried to fight it, but that doesn't matter now does it? I have these senses… And I've had nightmares. You mentioned that I could be clairvoyant… I believe you."
"Nightmares? Explain."
"That was a month ago. And nothing has happened. But I've told you my dreams have come true before." Why am I fretting over this now? Why to him and not to Papa when I had the stupid nightmare? "This is what kept me from telling you sooner." I hold up my silver pendant.
He cradles it between his fingers. "It's enchanted." He says in awe.
"Yes. I made it myself. Papa gave me silver and moonstone from the Otherworld to make it. It's supposed to protect me. The necklace will warn me if I'm mortal danger."
"And you did this on your own?"
"All on my own. And it works. So because the pendant never glowed, I never felt like I was ever in any real danger." I look to the distance. So why do I feel so bad now?
"That is why you never take it off."
Oh, he noticed that too? I look at him, a hand to my forehead. "I think I'm getting worked up for no good reason. I just… Just now. I felt like it was really important that I tell you that."
"For what it is worth. It pleases me that you trust me for such things." He gives me a tiny, crooked smile. But it's a smile, nonetheless. And it's for me. That makes me happy. He puts his hands behind his back. "Yes, I do believe we are done here."
He takes us out of the dungeons, and I squint, too accustomed to being in the dark. He opens the door for me and we bid each other pleasant nights. Just as I turn my back to him.
"Professor!" I shout.
"Do you need me?!" He whips around quickly.
"I think I might have something that could help you find him." I remember, and my pulse quickens.
With a nod, he lets me lead him to my dorm. One quick teleport and I thrust open the door and rummage through my things. Where is it? Where is the blasted thing? I can't believe how stupid I am! I should've gave this to him the moment I heard he was expelled. Lumie, you clumsy, forgetful FOOL!
I'm making a mess of things, a great clattering and knocking of noise as I open and close drawers, toss loose bits of clothing and crafting materials behind me. I topple a couple of books. I look back at Grabiner, feeling the need to apologize and assure him to be patient. But he is not looking at me, he's looking at my bed. He's looking at what is hanging over my bed, on the ceiling.
"Professor?"
Professor Grabiner stands tall, his arms limp and hands to his sides. His neck is craned up and his face is a perfect profile. His mouth is slightly agape, and his eyes are intensely focused, unblinking. I can see there is a glimmer to them, what looks like admiration.
"Did you make that?" He whispers more to himself than to me.
My eyes dart to the colorful wheel, then to him. "My mosaic? Yes. I made it a couple of days ago. It took me all night, I don't use magick when I make my art, except to keep it secure. I didn't have anything to keep it attached to the ceiling, so I had to mold it in. Am I in trouble?" I hope I don't get detention for changing the structure of the ceiling. It's only a small area and it can easily be undone.
He merely shakes his head, still focused on the thing. He whispers again, unmoving. "You are an artist?"
I blush. "I don't know, maybe a little. I like to make things. Whatever I can get my hands on, I work with it. I, uh, I used to have this illusion over my bed that I would change once in a while. My roommates really liked them, but I got tired of illusions. I wanted something real."
He nods, slowly, like he understands.
"Um. Anyway, I'm going to keep looking." I turn away quickly to hide my enormous smile and continue my search. I hear a clicking of steps, his boots against the wooden floor. Then to my surprise, I hear the creaking of my bed frame. I turn to see what he's doing.
My professor is standing atop the bottom bed frame, to give himself the necessary lift in order to extend his long arm to touch the mosaic. He delicately, grazes his fingertips over the stained glass, then the flattened marbles and smooth river stones.
My hand is still reaching into the drawer, and I feel it. Here it is!
I pretend to not have seen him as he creeps down from my bed, still with a far-off look on his face.
"I found it!" I announce.
He walks over to me and bends down to my level. I hold out a wooden handle, he looks at it curiously. With a flick of my finger, the blade reveals itself. It glimmers from the setting sun's light through the window. "This was his Initiation gift to me. He said he's had it for years, as a lucky charm. Then he gave it to me so I would feel like it's special. Since they were supposed to make the gifts and he didn't, he offered me something sentimental. I don't know if it's the truth. But either way, this was his once upon a time, and I've never used it. Maybe you could use this to track him?" I sheathe the pocket knife and place it in Grabiner's palm.
He closes it, slowly. "Thank you." He says hoarsely.
"I only wish I had remembered sooner. I'm sorry sir, I hope you find him."
He nods, and without a word he heads for the door. He reaches for the knob.
"Sir?"
Grabiner sets his weary eyes on me.
"You will tell me if there's any progress, right?"
He stares at me for what feels like an eternity. Finally he answers, glancing back at my mosaic. "Of course I will."
After I watch him leave I hopelessly sigh. "*Siiiiigh*"
I sit myself on the floor, still eyeing the door, then my feet. That went… Well? I swivel my feet. Yeah. I still can't cast, but I'm learning why. And him and I. We talk now. We actually talk. Not small talk. I flatten my hands on my thighs and rub them. What is this feeling? I suck in my breath. There is a light, airy, flittering feeling inside me. I feel giddy. A few minutes ago, I was overcome with dread, but now I feel… Safe? And happy? Maybe, I did something good.
Today is Friday, tomorrow I'll receive a much-needed day off because he has detention to give. I'm heading out the door when I find Professor Grabiner standing in the doorway, blocking me. "Oh! Professor."
"We shall not be engaging in the usual exercise. Instead, you will accompany me to Petunia's office."
It's a short walk and she welcomes us in her usual, shining manner. "Ah. There's my two lovebirds! Come on in, come in darlings."
I literally hear Professor Grabiner hold back a gag in his throat.
"Are you hungry, thirsty? I could conjure something up for you two if you'd like."
He and I immediately look to one another, both unsure.
"Ooooh! How lovely. You're already on the same page!" She squeals and claps in giddy approval, making us both even more unsettled.
"I like tea and muffins as much as the next person, but… No more!" I subtly whisper to him in a voice so small maybe The Headmistress won't notice.
He catches on quickly. "That will not be necessary Petunia, I will tend to that."
"How romantic! Which restaurant do you have in mind? I know of an adorable little salad bar in town."
I look to him, baffled.
I see him look as baffled as I am, then hide it in a quick instant. "Not necessarily-"
"Well then what did you have in mind? Surely you don't plan on making Lumie eat in the cafeteria? She's on vacation! And I'm sure she's tired of eating school food, it isn't very fair to her."
Grabiner clears his throat, an agitated expression imbedded into his features. "Once again, you have no reason for concern."
She lifts her chin up to him. "Good. I hope you two have an enchanting morning."
She winks to me, and I flinch slightly, flashing her back a nervous smile.
"Petunia, need I remind you that it was upon your request Lumina and I arrive here. I would like to believe it involves more than discussing what we shall be having for breakfast."
She smiles triumphantly, aware that he did not deny the idea of taking me out. "Why, I want a progress report of course."
Without wasting a millisecond, Grabiner summons a stack of papers, he shuffles through them and then places them on top of her desk. "There you have it."
The Headmistress looks amused. "Hieronymous, I'm shocked. Usually you have nothing but compliments to say about your wife. What could these papers have written on them that you couldn't tell me yourself?" She begins to pace and emphasize her words with hand gestures. "I mean, I'm used to hearing about how astounding she is, and how much perseverance and determination she possesses. The conundrums that surround Lumina! The air of mystery she emits, and her suprising amount of wit and grace. Oh, how much respect you have for her, how much you admire her inner strength to control such dangerous magic." She ends her sentence with an innocent giggle.
I feel my entire body go numb, my face especially tight, unable to form any expression. The only pleasant sensation is the rising heat in my cheeks, but, it's a sensation I could really do without right now. That's what he says about me? I-I almost can't believe it.
Professor Grabiner looks positively mortified, his face sinks in and his eyes portray panic. Without another word, he snatches me by the wrist and I'm nearly carried out of the room. The door is hastily slammed shut, and still clinging to my wrist he drags me down the hall and to his chambers. That door is slammed rather loudly, and with a great toss into the center of the room, I am released.
I wince and rub my wrist. "Professor-"
"That meddlesome, troublesome, worrisome, nag!"
WOAH.
He's huffing and puffing now.
"Um. Professor-"
"And YOU! Did you not have any input at all? Or were you too preoccupied observing the performance?!"
"PROFESSOR-"
"Not another word!"
He's such a whiny little boy! "Professor please-"
"And just what do you have to say for yourself?!"
"Stop overreacting!" I shout.
He freezes in place.
"Phew. Alright. I'm confused as to what just happened in there, but you know what? I don't care. And you are NOT finding a way to blame me for this." I point a condescending finger at him. Before he can go on another tirade, I continue. "Okay, listen. Are you listening? I. Don't. Know. What's. Going. On. I thought we were going to be training today, but you said we're not. I thought The Headmistress wanted something, but apparently she didn't. I thought I was going to eat breakfast in the cafeteria, but am I?"
He stands there, refusing to give me eye contact. "*Sigh* Petunia requested that I bring you to her office to undergo questioning concerning Damien Ramsey. In terms of your progress reports, she and I usually engage in private discussions, which are not so private at this current time."
That explains why your face is so red. I toss my hair back and place my hands on my hips. "That's why you ran away? It wasn't that big of a deal. She didn't reveal anything terrible."
"Not in your eyes." He says as he closes his own.
I pause. "Did she just pressure you into taking me out on a date?"
This wakes him up. "Do not flatter yourself. We are not going out on such an excursion. She merely recommended that I allow you time out of the academy walls as it is unjust for you to undergo the same restraints as the failing lot who are taking summer courses."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Sure. That's why she called us lovebirds and had a 'romantic' destination to recommend."
"Are we done here? I would much rather like to get this over with. As soon as possible, I might add."
I shrug my shoulders, ignoring the happiness rising up my throat. I gesture to the door. "Lead on, Professor. I don't know the area. What did you have in mind?"
He clicks his tongue, and once again takes my wrists a bit harshly. Before I can protest I feel the sensation of teleportation.
I find myself standing at the mall's entrance. Only one thought comes to mind: Oh my God, BOOKS! Then I remember that the Glen is here, and that's probably where we're going.
I'm rushed over to the false wall where the restaurant is hidden. As I'm being dragged along, I look over myself. My hair is in a sloppy bun, I'm in a red tee with black cargos and sneakers. Not the outfit I would choose for my first date. Of course, it's not like I have a choice. When was the last time I had that, I wonder?
At least he's not in his teacher's garb, but in his usual slacks, shoes and dress shirt, with a flat cap, all dull shades of white and brown.
Why am I so concerned with looks right now anyway? Why do I care? That's not me.
Because you wanted to look pretty for him.
What? No way. I'm not the type who cares about that.
Yes you are, you just never had someone to be pretty for until now.
Oh, shut up Lumie! This is not a date.
But you wish it was.
Quiet you!
I'm snapped back from my thoughts as we faze through the wall.
"Not quite what you were expecting?" He states sarcastically.
After passing the invisibility barriers, I was ready for anything, but this place could be any number of restaurants I've eaten at. The only obvious difference is the customers. There are several people here with wings. A small figure at one of the tables that looks like a cross between a bird and a goblin. And across the way, I see Jacob sitting with two older men, one of whose hair is apparently on fire! Or rather, his hair is the fire! Could those be his fathers?
"It is simpler to rely on standard suppliers and build something in keeping with this world. It allows the proprietors of the Glen to save their magickal energy for the food preparation. In the Otherworld there are no such limits, you can eat off of crystal platters in a floating palace." He says while looking my way.
"What is Jacob doing here?"
"It is mere circumstance. The boy does not live far from the academy, and during the summer students are allowed to visit their layabout friends to assist in study. For either of those reasons he could be sitting here with his fathers today."
Huh. I wonder if Minnie is tutoring summer school students. He could be here for her.
"Let us acquire a table."
As we walk over a great distance from the familiar face, I bet he doesn't want us to be seen, I wonder aloud. "Why did The Headmistress upset you so much? I thought you'd be used to her outbursts by now. She loves to embarrass people after all."
He scoffs. "I was unprepared for such exaggeration. She intends to make me out for a fool."
Well she succeeded by the way you reacted. Exaggeration huh? I knew it was too good to be true. He probably said some boring stuff, like 'She possess large quantities of mana.' Or 'Her magick is controlled more by cognitive thought that subconscious instinct, it is most perplexing.' Blah, blah, blah.
"Were you not disturbed?" He asks.
"I liked what I heard." I admit.
He gruffs in dismay.
"Would you please tell me a bit about the Otherworld?" I ask, hungry for knowledge.
"Think of it like fairyland. It is a wondrous place, but it has its dangers. It is where magickal creatures hail from, elves, dragons- all sources of myths and legends."
We sit at a booth, and I look around for a menu without seeing one. The Professor takes a narrow cylinder from a vase at the center of the table, unrolls it, and hands it to me. It's a scroll. I look over the listings, but I have no idea what most of them are. They're not even all in the same language, as far as I can tell.
He cracks a smile at my distress. "Do you require me to order for you?"
I opt to let him order. When the long-eared waiter arrives, he rattles off a series of syllables I do not understand, then eyes me. A few minutes later, the appetizers arrive. Grabiner receives a set of tiny eggs inside a nest of leaves, and I have… A thin, pale-brown tube filled with cream, like some sort of jelly roll. "What is this?" I ask.
"An amiuzon. Take a bite- a small one."
I nibble at the end, it tastes like an ordinary cake. "Is it custom to have dessert first?" I joke.
"Take another bite." He orders.
I nibble again, and my eyes go wide. It tastes like biting into a packet of sweet-and-sour sauce!
He smiles. "Keep going."
Another bite, but this one I nearly spit out. Vinegar! Yuck! I struggle to swallow and-
"If you did not enjoy that one. Do not laugh."
So I screw my face up a little, hold back the giggle and ask "Why not?"
"The idea is to 'amuse the mouth'. The flavor will keep shifting until you laugh, and if you do so, it will remain that way."
How… Magical! I don't want to miss out on the effect, so I keep a straight face while I finish my amiuzon. It ends with a taste of fried vegetables. A waitress comes by to clear the appetizer plates, and we wait for the main course. I watch him tap his spoon against the tiny eggs, cracking the shells slightly. He doesn't remove the shell completely, instead, he leaves an opening on the top. Steam wafts from the egg, plus a delicious savory, scent. He uses the spoon to stir the insides before picking them up between two fingers and drinking the eggy liquids. I watch him chew slightly before swallowing, so the egg must not be completely runny. Noticing my fascination, he offers an egg to me. I hesitate, but gingerly pluck the egg from his hand and mirror his every move.
The warm, eggy, salty, and oddly spicy concoction melts in my mouth. The center is soft and chewy, while the rest of it is soup-like. Not at all raw.
I can't help but let out a satisfied "Mmmm."
Professor Grabiner watches me, satisfied. We sit in silence for a few minutes, and he finishes his nest of eggs. A waitress comes by and takes our plates, offering us our menus for the main course.
I lift myself from the table to peek at what he is about to order. He spots me, raises an eyebrow and turns his head to me. He sits back and slides the scroll in my direction across the table. I stay firm, unintimidated. Trying to look like I know what I'm doing, I stab an entry on the scroll and show it to the winged waitress, who nods. Grabiner on the other hand, rattles off a quick string of syllables that mean nothing to me.
He catches my expression and smiles. "My brave little Horse."
I hop back in surprise, unbelieving of the words that just escaped his mouth. Did he just coo me?!
The entrees arrive. The Professor receives a fillet of fish with a side of greens that I've never seen before. The fish is laid atop a bed of golden leaves, and the fish itself is cooked to a nice brown.
I have a plate of rainbow colored-greens, under very thin ham over slices of orange fruit. Cantaloupe, I think. I openly frown.
"Oh, did someone's bravery land them in hot water?" He teases.
"This time, you are right."
He's amazed that I did not accept the verbal challenge.
Usually I would, but this a battle I could never win. I remove the ham slices and place them to the side of my plate. I also thinly slice the top layer of cantaloupe off that touched the ham. I instead top it with the greens and begin eating. It is cantaloupe, like I expected, but the greens are bitter on the bottom, then as I work my way up they become sour. Paired with the sweetness of the fruit it's really tasty.
Professor Grabiner eats the ham that has been isolated from everything else on the plate with the thin cuts of fruit. He tells me that they are a salty, sweet pairing, and that I am missing out on a pleasant culinary experience.
"So… Um. What's England like?"
"Excuse me?" Grabiner responds, duly annoyed.
"You're from there, aren't you? It's the accent that made me assume, I mean you had to pick it up from somewhere. That and your father's letter from last year. I've never been out of the country. So I was wondering."
"It rains frequently. And the sheep have four legs rather than two."
Well did you know in South America the asses have four legs compared to their two-legged European counterparts?
"Do you ever get homesick?"
"I do get sick of certain things, however I do not experience homesickness. And I especially grow sick of certain people."
Fine, no more talking then.
We finish off our meal with refreshing ginger tea and the familiar sugar-glass strawberries.
"The dessert is a plate provided to everyone gratuit, even if you only came for coffee. It is part of the magickal tradition of hospitality. No guest should go without."
"Is this practiced in every magickal restaurant?"
"Indeed."
"What are the strawberries made out of? At first, I thought it may be hardened marzipan."
He proceeds to eat one. "No. They are blown sugar-glass. But be careful, they are fragile. Put one in your mouth and suck it gently."
I blush as he watches me eat my strawberry.
"It is filled with strawberry juice, which provides energy. The sugar does not dissolve until it meets the heat and moisture of your tongue. That is due to magick of course. A simple spell, not a complex culinary technique."
I think he doesn't want me to be too impressed by the berries. We head out of the restaurant together, quietly. A teleport later and we're back at the academy gates.
That was actually a great meal, and… Wasn't a bad time with him. I do wish we could have talked a bit more, other than the occasional jest. Throughout the entire experience he's been nothing but a gentleman. Albeit- a rude gentleman, if that's possible. Not a sign of anything more.
"Now what?" I ask him.
"We return to Petunia. You still have questions to answer and I have information I must collect. Hopefully by now, her swooning pheromones will have relaxed."
You do not like the woman, do you?
We walk back into the academy, through the courtyard and I spot the beady eyes of many hidden fae. Professor Grabiner does not seem to notice. As he strides down the halls a twinge of annoyance pricks me in the back of my mind. Does he not have any connection to the natural forces at all? I see dead people in plain sight, I talk to brownies and play with faeries. This guy can't even manage a 'hello' to a manus that is contracted into indentured servitude to his family line. Where is he anyway? I don't even feel him watching me anymore. I look up, my eyes glued to his swishing hair for any glimpse of curved ear tips. I'm sure the elven culture is heavily centered around oneness with nature and the various realms. So how could he not sense the brownies living here for decades? Some elf he is.
Propriety first, as is customary, he knocks.
She sings for us to come in. "Ahhh. How was your date, my fluttering doves?"
I have to bite my bottom lip and quirk my mouth to hide the emerging smile. That does not stifle my giggle very well, to Grabiner's notice.
Grabiner remains stoic, if not a bit angry. I wonder if he has any gray hairs.
"Oh relax, Hieronymous. It's not good for your health if you're so rigid all the time."
This does not make him any better.
"Oh, hush up, before you speak. Sit down now, both of you. We'll get straight to business."
I bend to sit in my chair, and a thought strikes. Why didn't he backlash to her that it wasn't a date?
"Hello again Lumie." She chippers.
"Hi." I answer quietly.
"I am sorry about your husband, trust me, I've known him for quite some time now, and he-"
"I believe you said we would 'get straight to business.'" He raises his voice over hers.
"Hmph. I did. *Ahe-hem!* So, I've been informed that you had a pocket knife that belonged to Damien, yes?"
"Yes. I gave it to the professor."
"Mhm. And it is now in my possession. I just wanted you to know that you were right, it does possess small traces of memory. It was his, and it was something he was very fond of it."
"So it possesses sentimental value?!"
"Yes, Lumie, yes! I'm so proud of you. With this, we may be able to track him. However, the memory is quite old, probably from his childhood years, and the knife has lost most of its magic."
"The knife was enchanted?" I ask, confused. I didn't sense anything from it.
"Allow me to explain." Grabiner intrudes. "Objects associated with a very strong emotion can retain tiny traces of magickal energy, if those emotions emitted from a wizard. But over time, if the object is left to neglect or is overused, the magick may either wear thin or run out."
"Wait, doesn't that mean my wands and augments will eventually lose their power?"
"They will, unless you form a bond with them. But you must know how they work in order to understand. Augments differ from catalysts in which they are not tools to project mana through. Augments strengthen the wizard's own casting capabilities by surging excess mana into them. Augments are magickal items, fashioned into wearable accessories or molded onto ever day items, and the augment holds a presumed amount of mana within it. That mana can be concentrated towards a specific color of magick when a constraining rune is engraved into the charm that keeps the augment in place."
"So, what you're saying is, augments make wizards stronger because they hold mana inside of them, and the wizard absorbs it. Runes on the augment's charm tell the mana which magick it should boost."
"Precisely." He says with an approving nod.
"Does that mean, wizards can't use augments without their wands?"
"No, they cannot. Augments are not catalysts, they store mana, but they cannot project mana to form a spell. The mana is transferred to the wizard, who uses their catalyst to control the mana surging into them."
"Oh."
"Yes, I am afraid your ability to use augments does not prove any progress with controlled-casting."
"And I already know how catalysts work. They take the mana and turn it into magick. But how can they do that?"
"If I may?" Potsdam intervenes. "Wands, staves and anything really a wizard uses to do magic is more than an enchanted object. These are very special things, Lumie. In order to create magic, they have to touch your soul. Anything can absorb mana, but only the soul can control it. That's why you need to form a bond with your catalyst, a connection. Catalysts have cores to them. They are made from mystical materials that affinitize with the soul."
"Do you mean like unicorn horns and dragon hearts?"
"Ohhh, precisely Lumie! You are such a smart cookie!"
Grabiner looks smug. "I admit, I am surprised you are aware of such knowledge."
That's because I read Harry Potter. Blushing, I continue on. "Does that also mean that wands are made from sacred woods and metals? Like elder, ash and orichalcum?"
"Yes, yes! That's exactly what it means. Those mystical materials can control magic. That's why we make wands out of them!" She cheers in joy.
"Uh. So how do you bond with them? How can you keep them from running dry?"
"It is a simple method. Considering that augments are pre-set with a certain amount of mana due to the enchanted materials they are composed of, all one would have to do is refill the augment with more mana. Whether it be pouring one's own mana into the object or replacing the augment itself, is up to the wizard."
"And wands?"
"Wands and other catalysts are a bit more complex. They do not necessarily run out of mana, but they can lose the ability to channel it. That is the situation where a bond becomes necessary. Bonding is the process where a wizard forms a spiritual connection with their catalyst. Your grandfather is one such example." Grabiner explains.
"Papa?"
"He and his sword are inseparable. They have already bonded. The mystical composition of his walking cane has synthesized with the mana flowing from his soul. It is well-known that if anyone would dare try to take the cane from him, it would strike back with violent force. Foes have perished from merely touching your grandfather's catalyst."
Potsdam eagerly chimes in. "Once you have bonded with your catalyst, your magic will increase tenfold. Not only that, but the object will even adapt personality traits of yours."
"Like an evolving weapon?"
"Are you sure you're wildseed Lumie?" Potsdam teases.
"P-positive!" I stutter. I just play a lot of video games…
"Anyway, yes. Although not all catalysts take the forms of weapons. It really has to be an item you cherish. They can range from wands to staves, to real weapons like swords and lances or even a book! In other parts of the world, it is more common to carry a sash or ribbon around than a wand. And wands themselves don't necessarily have to be wooden sticks, they can even be paintbrushes if you so wish."
Grabiner brings us down from cloud nine. "However, you should stray away from unrealistic whims. You would not be able to successfully create a catalyst out of unconventional objects, like for instance, a chair. Catalysts must not only be composed of magickal ingredients, but take a form that can channel and project spells. Hence the popularity with choices of weaponry and common tools."
"Yes. I understand."
He approves. In his weird, grumpy way.
"But um. Do they really come to life? Do they actually change once you've bonded with them?"
"Indeed. The size, shape, color and even style of the object will morph to your inherit personality. And the more adept wizard you become, the deadlier your bonded catalyst will result in."
"And you two think that's what I need to do in order to properly wield a catalyst? I need to bond."
They look at each other, and back to me. "Yes." They say at the same time.
"It is an extreme option, I admit." Grabiner sniffs.
"Why?" I ask, worry growing in my voice.
Potsdam answers. "Well, bonding is a slow and arduous process. You have to well… Bond! You and your selected catalyst must suffer and succeed and grow together, then with time, a bond will form."
"How will I know?"
A glimmer forms in her eyes. One that hints at years of personal experience. "Oh. You'll know Lumie. Trust me, you'll know." She bends over her desk to pat my hand.
I stare at it, thinking deeply. "Why haven't I bonded with either of my wands by now?"
They both hesitate, then struggle to find the words. "I think it's because those wands… Well. They work but-"
"They are cheap rubbish." He finishes for her.
I flush.
"To be blunt, they are not good quality. They are more children's toys than respectable wands. However, they are appropriate for students in your age group."
"We mean no disrespect to the shopkeepers! It's just that, he has a point, dear. These are starter wands, perfectly acceptable for the average schoolgirl but…"
"You are no average schoolgirl." Grabiners says with a smirk.
"Your magic is extremely developed, and it may just be too much for the average wand to handle. This happens to some people. Most students graduate to more… Age appropriate catalysts over the span of time, until they bond with the right one."
I perk up. "So I'm not alone in this? Other wizards struggle with their wands too?"
She speaks too soon. "No. You're still alone. I said it was common for wizards to outgrow their current wands, but it's also equally common for wizards to bond early, even with store bought wands. It all depends on the needs of the individual. And once a bond is formed, you should know that the item will change into something more suitable. So the 'cheapness' of it is really only supposed to be temporary."
My hope dims.
Grabiner, looking especially agitated sweeps his arm in front of her and cuts in. "What she means is yes, wizards do not undergo the consistency of breaking and mending their wands repeatedly. Nor do they suffer through the incapability to engage in spell casting. However… We figured that if you were unable to bond with your currents wands, perhaps a custom-made catalyst would yield better results."
In other words, she should've bonded with a wand by now, time for plan-B, this girl has special needs. "*Sigh*" I sigh rather loudly.
Grabiner almost snarls at Potsdam, who is looking particularly guilty for my dampened mood.
"Could you tell me a bit more about bonding? About how it works? What it's like?" I softly request.
"O-oh of course, dear." She complies. "It's very easy to bond." Great, it's supposed to be easy? "It's as simple as breathing!" So I'm inept. "Bonding is very much like friendship. Or maybe even like family if you put it into perspective." I have trust issues. "People bond for different reasons, but it has to be a powerful reason, in order for the catalyst to sync with your inner spirit." I'm a white mage and I can't even get in touch with my inner spirit... "Some people bond out of fondness for their catalyst, others bond from strong sentimental value. Like a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation. I've seen wizards bond with their wands in life-or-death situations, where it was strict necessity." I've had life or death scenarios and no wand came to my rescue! "The reasons are all different and the catalysts are all different. Some people make their own wands, others buy them, some find them, some receive them as gifts and so on. It doesn't really matter, a wand is a wand. And bonding is unique to every wizard."
"So why would introducing a custom-made catalyst make any difference?"
This stops her in her tracks. She looks to the professor. He was expecting this.
"Because as she said, the terms of the bond differ for every wizard. Perhaps you are unable to bond with your wands because you require something more intimate."
"It doesn't hurt to try." Potsdam admits with a shrug of her shoulders. She claps her hands together. "O-K! So that's the plan then. Now that we've gotten that out of the way. I need to talk to you about a certain Damien Ramsey." She adjusts herself in her seat, to make herself appear more in charge. "Honey, Hieronymous here has told me that Damien gave you a courting gift."
I shrink in my seat, guilt rising up my esophagus. "Are all flower stones courting gifts? Like some sort of custom? Did I make a horrible mistake and break magickal tradition?"
She laughs. "No honey, no. Flower stones are actually pretty common game pieces. They are similar to chess pawns by our standards. Hieronymous may have hinted it was a courting gift based on the behavioral description you gave him on the time you spent with Damien. Hieronymous?"
"The behaviors you described seemed that of an obsessive nature. Whatever Mr. Ramsey had in mind for you, did not happen. Therefore his behavior changed from calculative to reckless."
"Explain." I order, feeling my guard build up.
"When the two of you first met at the Initiation Ceremony, he played to the façade. Mr. Ramsey is one to flaunt his exotic features and he singled you out because you were a seemingly harmless wildseed girl. I am sure he thought his strange and unique appearance would dazzle you in some way. That is why he did not chose another wildseed girl, for instance Miss Middleton."
"Wait, I don't get it. He picked me because he knew I didn't mind the way he looked?"
"Precisely."
"You're different Lumie. You may be wildseed, but you… You're not afraid of what is new, like the others."
"In other words, you are intrigued by the magickal world and you embrace it. While most wildseed students struggle to cope with the vast differences between our societies. It is that fascination that Mr. Ramsey sought to take due advantage of."
"He knew he had an edge, Lumie, like with all the others. I've seen it countless times. He'll spring up on some innocent wildseed girl and woo her with his charms. He's had many, many, many girlfriends."
"From there on out he proceeded to challenge you, testing out methods of manipulation. You did not respond to fear or force, and you did not react to romance, something that has never happened to him before, I'm sure. So he responded the only way he could, with pity."
"The idea was, since you did not fear him or love him, he could not control you. And so the best way to get you to play to his whims was to make you feel sorry for him. He told you all those stories about how he's been bullied and he's so different and he feels all alone." Potsdam pouts.
"Headmistress?"
"Oh Lumie, I've heard these stories a thousand times! You have no idea how many girls I've had to be a shoulder to cry on to. And it's positively shameful, they all tell me the same things! Some girls fell for his flirting and teasing, others talked about how they were lavished with gifts and compliments. And more have told me that they were afraid of him and that's why they did what he wanted. But they all were convinced that he loved them in the end. They all thought they had his heart. That he was just a sad, and misunderstood boy."
"That's… That's sick." I spit.
"It is, it's truly sickening!" Potsdam stomps her foot. "He toys with people's hearts. I've been suspecting this for quite some time. And as much as I hate it, I cannot expel him for merely being a Casanova. Once it became a matter of assault however, I had my chance. My hunch was right."
"What hunch?"
"He's a demon, Lumie."
"What?! He told me he was a changeling!"
She rolls her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure he did. Tell me something I don't know." She looks me straight in the eye. "He is a cambian, Lumie. A half-demon, half-human hybrid."
"And expelling him would make you look racist." I realize.
She hangs her head. "Yes dear. I gave him his chance. If he wanted to be naughty boy, so be it. But I will not tolerate him hurting my students any longer!"
"If I may continue…" We let him. "She is correct. But what breed of demon he is, we are unsure of."
So you have no idea how dangerous he is.
"His infatuation with young girls leads me to believe that he may be an incubus. Dark Folk have a special taste for young females."
"Because most of them are virgins, or because they're naïve and easy to manipulate?"
"Presumably both." He answers. "Whatever the case may be, it is a serious matter. Your personal experience is one that cannot be denied. He attempted to intimidate you, but that was quickly brushed aside. He attempted to woo you in the usual manner, but you would not fall for his charms. He even attempted to appear as a hero to you, 'rescuing' you from my delivered punishments with the letter incident. And 'rescuing' you from your confrontation with Ms. Kirsch. You did not even yield to his pity-party. You did not feel so overcome with sympathy that you would demean yourself to his levels and find yourself catering to his every request." He looks as if those words left a bad taste in his mouth.
"I'm just so happy you weren't another one." Potsdam sighs with a hand to her chest.
"Why would I fall for that?" I say, annoyed.
They both look to me.
"You two make it sound like he's some criminal mastermind and has this amazing way with women. But come on! He was just another bully. It was so obvious that he was fake. I mean, he went from friendly, to hostile, to apologetic, to jealous and furious all over again. The guy would scream in my face for no reason! And so what if he secretly bought me a pie or made me a flower of out of rock? So what about the love letter or Angela? Those situations were his fault to begin with, there was nothing to 'rescue' me from. I mean, I barely even talked to the guy! I saw him whenever I ran into him, and yeah he always had this sob story when that happened, but that's what I'm supposed to be attracted to? I thought there was a greater chance of him being bipolar than him being a demon!" Are these two serious? I fold my arms, prickling anger causing goosebumps to raise on my skin.
"Hm. You have a point." Potsdam admits. "Yes, when you put it that way, it is rather odd. No girl would want to date someone like that." She says again.
"Exactly." I huff.
"But your situation is atypical." Grabiner reminds.
"Atypical?"
"Correct. What we are pointing out to you is that this is not custom to circumstance. We do no not understand why someone practiced in his ways would act so sparratic and spoil any chance of a convincing act."
"He was different around you. With the other girls, he had a plan. He had a plan and sought it out to the end until either he got what he wanted or failed. Then he would move on to the next one. He had a different personality set up for whatever girl he was after." Potsdam explains for me.
"Many boys his age display the same qualities." Grabiner adds.
"So it wasn't unusual that he was a jerk and a pervert. You couldn't really pin anything on him."
"But then you came along." He says suddenly.
Potsdam points a finger to my nose. "Yes, you came along and he changed. Almost as if… He didn't know what to do. He didn't know your weakness. Whatever could that be Hieronymous?" She looks at him slyly.
"Why would I know that?!" He snaps.
She answers with a grin and a slide of her eyes between us.
"Excuse me?!"
"I'm only teasing." She waves him off before he blows up. "Well, that's what it is. I can only see that he would bother putting so much effort into pursuing you because that was his way of courting."
I raise my hand. "Why does any of this matter? In the end, I wasn't the one that got attacked."
"It matters because he got away."
"You think he may come after me?"
She shakes her head. "I don't think so. But it doesn't hurt to be cautious. He really has no reason to. But any input on your side can help us determine his next move."
"Headmistress, how did he get away?"
She says nothing.
"Headmistress Potsdam?"
She glances back at me, but still remains silent.
"Potsdam, please?"
No answer, a raised eyebrow, but no answer.
"She is asking you a question!" Grabiner demands.
She's not budging. Why would she-? OH. "Petunia, how did Damien escape?"
She opens up at last. "I had to save the boy."
Grabiner looks baffled.
"Save him from what?"
She sighs. A genuine sigh of sadness, which an emotion I don't think I've ever seen from her. "The boy claimed they were romantically involved." So he had a boyfriend and still hit on me? "What really happened that night was this:" She readies herself.
"Damien had agreed to take the boy out on a private, moonlight date at the lagoon. A clear violation of academy conduct, but… It played to his favor. The two were out of the range of my protective wards."
"How could you not tell that the wards had been breached?" She saddens.
"Apparently, Damien knows far more magic than what is taught in the academy."
I soften, aware she must feel heavily responsible for the incident.
"The two had been dating for a fair amount of time, so a trust between the two had already been established." She's hinting to me that everything she's telling me up to a certain point was consentual. "It is there that Damien began to engage in more, private things." So they were messing around. "What the boy didn't know was that the powerful magic circle they were sitting in was not for his protection, but his confinement, including the disabling of his own magic."
When she talks, there are tones of disgust laden in her voice.
"Damien told the boy that in order to make their union official, the boy had to offer up his body and soul. He told the boy that he loved him, and that he needed his love for all eternity. He convinced the boy that they were engaging in an old magical mating ceremony. That all serious couples invested themselves in this, and that in due time they would be married if they formed the connection. Our poor boy was madly in love with him, so he consented. And the two proceeded to carry out the ritual. But as you've probably suspected, that was a lie. It was a sacrificial ritual."
I feel my entire body go rigid.
"Ritual sacrifice of one's entire existence. His heart, mind, body and even his soul, which includes his magic, would all be transferred to Damien. The boy was asked to draw his own blood willingly, and that is when he began to have second thoughts. He was curious as to why Damien himself was not practicing the ritual rites. He tried to convince the boy that being what he was, a demon-prince, made the rites unnecessary."
I cut it in. "He told the boy he was a demon-prince?"
She bites her lip. "Yes. As ridiculous as it sounds you have to put it in the perspective of a fifteen year-old wildseed boy who has never met a demon before and also happens to be deeply infatuated with that person. That was his partner, and loving his partner, he believed he would mean no harm to him. How very wrong he was." She takes a breath. "He refused to draw blood. That is, he was willing to do it, but only if Damien participated as well. He wanted Damien to be as much his property and he was going to be Damien's."
I kinda get his way of thinking, even though as soon as I hear the words 'offer your soul' I'm pretty much through with the subject.
"This led to an argument between the two, which Damien thought he could mend through force. He actively tried to seduce the boy, as he was doing before, but the boy was not pleased. Pleasure became replaced with fear, and the boy lashed out. However without his magic, he was utterly defenseless. Damien overpowered him and proceeded."
I feel the need to cross my legs.
"At this time, I had already sensed my wards had been breached. Hieronymous and I were still being led on false trails. He sent his manus off the trails to search for the boy by sky. We did find him, and just in time. The poor boy was so hurt and scared. He was screaming for help, Damien did not bother to gag him because he thought no one would be able to hear him from their distance. When we were given the signal, I was much closer to the location than Hieronymous, not wanting to waste a second, I left without him. Once I laid my eyes on the nasty sight, I lost myself." She fiddles with her large ring. "I was in such a rage, I fully intended to kill the boy. I called upon flaming swords, not my usual method of magic, and I was going to hack him into itty bitty pieces!" She shouts.
Wait… So that portion of the rumors were right?! Good grief!
"However, Damien used the boy as a human shield, and I had to divert my spell. He used this precious moment to thrust the boy away and flee into the night. Hieronymous arrived at that precise second and by then it was too late. We needed to tend to our student, he was badly injured and was going into hysterics. We have not seen or heard of Damien since."
"Do you understand the severity of our situation?"
"Without a doubt." I answer calmly, closing my eyes.
"It isn't so much our situation anymore, he's a wanted criminal now. The authorative powers are pursuing him as we speak and I've changed the school wards to include cambians. This is a task for the High Court, but we intend to help in whatever way we can. And this blade will be delivered to the Spymaster team first thing in the morning, along with a detailed report of your analysis on Damien Ramsey's behavioral aesthetic."
"Do you need anything else?"
She smiles again, finally, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her being serious for so long. "No dearie, you've done enough. Don't worry, I have faith we'll find him. The boy is safe, Damien has a bounty on his head and can never return. We may resume life as normal."
As quickly as she said it, we are dismissed. I walk alongside the professor feeling solemn. "Did you gather enough useful information?"
"Only from your input. The rest I have heard before. She is correct however, the matter is out of our hands, and I for one, prefer it that way."
Me too.