Chapter Three: A Sorcerer, His Apprentice, and A Spell Gone Wrong

Before he had left for his own house, Berg told Mathias, "that damn sorcerer is obviously your last hope. Go see him again."

Which was why, once again, Mathias stood at the door of the Sorcerer Norge's shop. His visit to the royal palace had turned out to be a total flop, and according to his assistant, the Sorcerer Norge was the only magician in a twenty-mile radius who even had a chance of helping Mathias.

He knocked on the door. As expected, Emil answered it. His brows were knotted in frustration and he clutched at a kerchief that covered his entire head and part of his eyes. "Mr. Fisher," he said, "I heard you went to Crownheim yesterday to ask the king for help."

Mathias held out his hand sheepishly. "Yeah, well, it didn't really work. I came to ask the Sorcerer for help again."

"I really wish he would help you," sighed Emil, "he's just so damn stubborn sometimes, I wish my powers were fully developed so I could just knock some sense into him!"

"Is he around?" asked Mathias.

Emil shook his head. The kerchief rustled with the movement. "He went out again. He should be back later this afternoon. You're welcome to come back later." He was in the middle of closing the door when Mathias stopped it with his foot.

"Can I come in and wait for him? I don't have much to do anyway."

Emil scowled, clutching his kerchief even tighter around his head. "Absolutely not."

"But your shop's open," said Mathias, "Does it have anything to do with that kerchief you're wearing?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" shouted Emil, shoving the door shut, or rather, attempting to do so. Mathias's strength was far greater than the teenager's, and he wrestled his way into the shop. Emil turned on him, eyes blazing with pink fire, and was definitely about to yell at him when a strong wind blew through the shop. Bottles of unknown substances rattled in their places, scrolls unraveled, and sheets of parchment flew across the room. Emil lost his kerchief to the mysterious gale, yelping as it blew out of his reach. Mathias then learned why the boy had been so adamant about kicking him out of the shop.

Emil's hair, rather than it's usual silver, had taken on a bright pink hue. Mathias doubled over laughing.

"It's not funny!" Emil's protests could hardly be heard over the wind. "Have you ever had a spell go wrong on you? You should be worrying about why there's a strong wind in an enclosed building!"

While the thought had indeed crossed Mathias's mind, he was far more amused by Emil's magical mishap than anything else, which was why almost failed to notice the wind die down. He regained his composure to find, floating next to Emil, a disembodied head nearly half the size of the young man. He fell to the ground, startled.

"I found the source of the wind," Emil said crossly. "Norge is checking up on us."

The apparition looked nothing like the sorcerer. It was entirely green, with a large, protruding nose, a fanged underbite with a pipe tucked between its lips, and a long mane that floated around its face, waving slowly as if underwater.

Mathias raised his stone hands in defense. "Wh-what is that thing?" he sputtered.

"Norge's troll friend," said Emil.

"What the actual blazes."

The troll spoke up, in a voice like subdued thunder. "My name is Gudmund. The Sorcerer Norge sensed a disturbance at his shop, and sent me here to check up on it." He lay his glimmering, pupil-less eyes on Emil and his pink hair. "Seems to me there's been more than one disturbance here. What happened, son?"

"Yes, well," Emil huffed, "I wanted to look nice for when Leon comes to visit, and I sneezed while performing the spell." He glared at Mathias, expecting him to start laughing again, but Mathias simply grinned and shrugged.

"All laughed out, buddy. Sorry 'bout that."

A green hand materialized out of nowhere and snapped its fingers, returning Emil's hair to its normal shade. As Emil sighed and ran his fingers through his silver locks in relief, Gudmund turned to Mathias. "You have quite the curse on you," said the troll.

Mathias shook his head, lips pressed together tightly.

"And you can't even talk about it? That's quite unfortunate."

"Things happen if I do," Mathias said quietly. "I've been to every magician in a twenty-mile radius from here. I've even been to King Ivan himself. The only ones who even stand a chance of breaking my curse are the Sorcerer Norge and the little witch who put this curse on me in the first place!"

"Curses work in mysterious ways, and only a few people have any inkling as to how they function. I wouldn't expect the Sorcerer Norge to be able to break this easily."

Mathias looked down at his hands. "Sorcerer Norge's a jerk."

"Yes, well… He's never been a particularly wise or caring magician in the first place. If he were, he wouldn't have gotten himself cursed in the first place," said Gudmund. "Your curse is very similar to his, brought on by a hamartia, fatal flaw. Often we do not recognize our own flaws until it is too late." The troll removed the pipe from between his lips and blew out a ring of smoke. "Sometimes it takes the help of another to realize this. You are persistent, Mathias. I can see that, even without second sight. It's one of your better points," he chuckled.

"Can't you tell me more?" pleaded Mathias.

"I've said more than enough. Any more and I risk of getting cursed myself," Gudmund said grimly, "now, I'm off to tell the Sorcerer that everything is all right. Think of what I've said. Digest it and dissect it until you understand. Goodbye, Mathias. Goodbye."

With another gust of wind, Gudmund disappeared. Emil immediately set to tidying the mess that the troll's wind had created as Mathias looked on. A pang of helplessness struck at his chest; he couldn't even help Emil clean up.

"Don't worry about it," Emil said, as if reading Mathias's thoughts, "just sit down. Once I get this mess cleaned up, I'll make us some lunch."

Mathias smiled. "Gosh, Em. You're way nicer than that sorcerer o' yours. What gives?"

Emil winced slightly at the nickname, then decided it fit and let it be. "With all due respect, Mr. Fisher, you don't know the Sorcerer like I do. It took me six years to get to this point." He sighed knowingly as he used his magic to fish out an errant piece of parchment stuck behind a painting.

"Fair enough," replied Mathias, "I've been chasin' him around for the last week and I still don't even know his name."

"His name is Lukas Bondevik, for starters," Emil coughed as he righted the fallen dusty bottles. "I've been his apprentice for six years now, and he's been very good to me throughout, even though he is quite surly."

"He said he was cursed. Do ya know anythin' of that?"

"Only because I was there when it happened," Emil answered solemnly, "if I talk about it, then I hurt my master. That is the last thing I wish to do."

"Fair enough," Mathias said again, "why're ya tellin' me this, anyway?"

"I don't think I've told you anything of importance."

"Ya told me his name."

Emil lowered his hands and stared at the ceiling pensively. "You're right," he said after a moment, "well, I believe you might be the one to break his curse. All I wish to do is help Lukas, and if inviting you into the shop against his wishes is the way to do it, then I'll invite you in and serve you tea every time." His pensiveness hardened into a steely resolve, the fire in his eyes returning once more. "I just wish I could help you help him more."

"I'll help him," Mathias answered, almost as firmly as Emil. "If he's breakin' my curse, I might as well break his while we're at it. Think of it as payment."

"You'll talk to him once he comes back, right?" Emil's voice took on a pleading tone, "Gudmund says you're persistent, so you'll get him to agree, right?"

Mathias grinned. "I'll do my best!"

XxX

The Sorcerer Norge, or rather, Lukas Bondevik, returned home that evening expecting to have himself a hot bath, a meal, and a peaceful evening studying his newly-acquired spellbooks with Emil. What he did not expect was Mathias at his table, being fed Emil's special fish fillet by the boy himself as if they were close friends. He slammed the door shut, alerting them to his presence.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?" he raged. Mathias and Emil jumped in their seats and Lukas pointed an accusatory finger at the stony-handed man. "YOU LET HIM IN!?"

Emil nodded. "Welcome home, Lukas," he said, ignoring his master's temper, "I made salmon fillet for dinner."

Just the mention of salmon fillet seemed to calm Lukas down a little bit. He plunked himself in the seat across from Mathias, the glare refusing to disappear from his face, as Emil slid a plate of salmon in front of him.

Mathias hooked one of his stone fingers under his shirt collar and tugged. "I'm here to break your curse, mister sorcerer," he said nervously. He could feel himself begin to falter under Lukas's frigid glare. So much for persistence.

"Do you really think you can?" Lukas sneered, stabbing his fork into his salmon with a loud thunk that made Mathias flinch. "You, a lazy fisherman with no powers of his own, breaking my curse? Don't make me laugh, you fool!"

"Lukas, stop that," interjected Emil, holding up his hands, "that's the ice speaking. Don't listen to it."

Mathias stood up, sending his chair flying back with a loud screech. "I can, and I'll show ya," he stated, staring Lukas down with eyes of blue fire. "I'll break that stupid curse of yours, and then you'll have to break mine because that's how things work here."

"I don't want you anywhere near me," spat Lukas.

Mathias shivered. It was the middle of spring, there shouldn't be frost forming on the windowpanes of Norge's shop, nor should his breath come out in puffs of white.

The sudden change in weather didn't seem to deter the Sorcerer. He returned Mathias's glare, almost challenging him wordlessly, I dare you to try. Mathias shook off the cold air and continued.

"Please, Sorcerer. Lukas," Mathias pleaded, "this ain't even about my curse anymore."

"Why do you even care?" snapped Lukas.

"'Cause look at this!" Mathias gestured towards the icicles on the mantle, the frost-covered bottles, everything. "You're cold, Sorcerer. You don't have to be cold anymore."

Lukas's gaze grew fearful as he followed Mathias's gestures. His eyes landed on Emil, shivering over plates of frozen salmon, and he doubled over, clutching at his chest. Mathias reached out.

"Lukas…?"

As if it had never been there, the frost disappeared, the air grew warm again. Mathias's stone hand landed on Lukas's shoulder and Lukas looked up only to lock eyes with Mathias.

"I will help you," Mathias said solemnly, "this I swear. Please, Lukas... I need you to trust me."

The color returned to Lukas's cheeks, and he gripped Mathias's stone hands with his own icy ones so desperately that frost formed on the fisherman's fingertips.

"Then make a contract with me."

AN: Before anyone asks, I haven't watched Madoka.
Beware the dialogue chapter. So easy, yet so complicated... I kinda wish everything could be dialogue. :p
I'm really enjoying this AU, I hammered out a little SuFin thing for it as well. I'll post it after I've got it polished up, and after I've figured out whether it's a multichapter or not.
Definitely putting some more SuFin in here, though. But they're on their honeymoon right now, so things have to wait. ;)

See you next time! XOXO