Chapter 6: Black Robes, a Moment Shared, and a Vengeful Witch
Lukas was gone for the next three days, attending Mrs. Willowby's funeral in the ruins of Barrell. Upon his return to Little Whirling, he stiffly told Mathias and Emil that he was all right and that he had already dealt with his grief. However, Mathias couldn't help but notice that the Sorcerer's attire from then on consisted of heavy black robes, despite the heat of late June.
Time passes quickly, realized Mathias as Berg walked him to the Sorcerer's door, it's been nearly two months since I first knocked on his door, yet Lukas and I are still not on close terms. If I want this curse broken, I'm going to have to do something about that.
After a brief chat with Emil, Berg departed, and Mathias set about to his daily routine at the Sorcerer Norge's shop. He aided Emil with the organizing of potions and greeted customers. His relaxed nature had brought more customers to the shop; even those who initially stayed away due to the Sorcerer's grim countenance became Norge's most valued customers.
Norge himself found it easier to stay inside, casting spells and mixing potions, while Emil and Mathias dealt with the customers. When he chose to show himself, he still wore his black robes, and the air around him was always deathly cold. Despite Lukas's earlier words, both Mathias and Emil were sure he was still grieving for his lost mentor.
"It's too much," Emil said one afternoon, fanning himself with his notes. "I haven't had a decent lesson in weeks, you haven't gotten closer to Lukas since you've been here, and he's always in his room spending his time as a lump of coal… This can't be good for anyone."
"He's grieving, though," replied Mathias, admiring his hands. "It's best to let 'im be."
Emil snorted. "You've grown soft while you've been here, haven't you?"
"Whaddya mean?" challenged Mathias, glaring at the apprentice.
"You used to be so persistent," said Emil, "or do you not recall knocking on our door every day, begging the Sorcerer to break your curse?"
"Hey, I'm still persistent," Mathias grumbled. The truth of Emil's words resonated with him, though. Lukas needed help returning to reality, lest he never again see the light of day. "Why don't you do it?" asked Mathias.
"He's been angry with me recently. It was something I said. I can't get him to come out so I can apologize," Emil said sadly. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "Truthfully, I've been worried sick about him… this is a grief like no other, and he refuses to let me—his apprentice and friend for God knows how long—into his heart. I just want to help him," his words cut off with a choke.
Mathias rested his hand on the boy's back. "He was doing all right before, though… Somethin' must have happened at the funeral. I'm sure of it."
"Will you go talk to him?" asked Emil, wiping the wetness from his eyes.
"Of course," answered Mathias, standing up, "it's probably part of that odd contract we signed, anyway."
Mathias made his way to Lukas's private chambers and tapped one of his petrified hands on the door. "Lukas? It's me, Mathias."
No answer.
"Oh, please don't be a lump of coal right now…" he muttered, "Lukas, can I come in? I wanna talk to ya, it's important."
The door creaked open. Mathias took it as an invitation to enter Lukas's room.
The first thing he noticed was the chill, which sent goosebumps flaring across his skin. The second, that there was indeed a black lump on Lukas's bed, though it was too large to be a lump of coal. Upon closer inspection, Mathias found it to be the huddled form of the Sorcerer in his black robes, simply sighing into the sheets.
"What do you want?" asked the lump.
"Lukas," Mathias said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed, "it's been terrible, hasn't it?"
Lukas snorted. "That's quite the understatement," he said crassly.
"I know," admitted Mathias, "just… you're still grieving, aren't you?"
Lukas was quiet for a moment. "…Yes," he breathed, "I am."
"And you have every right to," Mathias said, "but… this, this locking yourself away, turning into a lump of coal, freezing everything around you…" he trailed off, his breath coming out in puffs of white. He curled up next to the huddled form of the Sorcerer, ignoring the cold. "You don't have to do this alone."
Immediately, the air began to warm. Lukas peeked out from beneath his cloak, eyes a muddy indigo and reddened from crying.
"You've got me and Emil, to start," Mathias continued, wrapping his arms around the lump. "He apologizes for whatever he said, by the way. Should talk to him so he can tell ya in person."
Lukas shifted so that his entire face could be seen, pale and gaunt. The sight briefly took Mathias by surprise, but he let that tired face rest against his shoulder. "No, Emil's right," came Lukas's muffled voice, "he accused me of being so quick to take comfort with you despite the brevity of our acquaintance. Embarrassingly so."
"Well," Mathias said, burying his nose in the fine golden locks of Lukas's hair, "we're bound by a contract, so of course that's gonna happen. If anything's wrong, you can tell me."
Lukas hummed in response.
After a brief silence, he spoke again. "I attended Mrs. Willowby's funeral a few days ago, as you know," he said quietly, "I was feeling fine beforehand. But then I saw the damage…"
"Of Barrell?"
"Of Barrell," affirmed Lukas, "it's beyond horrible, Mathias. Unfathomable. The town has been decimated, and then some." Lukas clutched at Mathias's shirt. "This war has barely begun," he said wetly, "but it's already destroyed the lives of so many… I want to help, but I don't know what to do, Mathias… I feel so powerless."
Mathias held tight as sobs wracked Lukas's body. "I don't know either, Luke…" he murmured, "this is a war among kings, they don't see us as anything but mites and pawns. But something's gotta happen. The King and Queen's little marital tiff can't last forever. I think," he paused, gathering his thoughts, "all we can do right now is hope, and when the time comes to fight, we give 'em hell."
"Give them hell," repeated Lukas, pulling away from Mathias. "That's quite a way of putting it. I like that."
Mathias smiled. "I'm glad," he said, "now, how about we bug Emil ta cook somethin' for us? You look famished!" He stood up, helping Lukas off the bed. Lukas discarded his black cloak and walked over to his closet. Before Mathias could say anything, Lukas had doffed the grimy pajamas he wore, revealing his svelte and finely-muscled form.
"It's fine," he said coolly upon hearing Mathias's surprised yelp. "We're both men here, aren't we?"
Mathias nodded, moving to hide the redness of his face behind a stone hand. I'm just startled he decided to get naked so easily, that's it, he reasoned, I just didn't expect for him to be so… pretty.
He excused himself from the room anyway, choosing to wait for Lukas in the hallway. It felt downright wrong to be ogling the man who, shortly before, had been sobbing in his arms.
Lukas emerged from his bedroom in attire that seemed more like himself: pressed trousers, a buttoned shirt, a vest, and a brocade cape of deep blue. While still pallid and gaunt from grief, he seemed a bit more like the Great Sorcerer Norge who Mathias knew, and it lifted Mathias's spirts. They entered the parlor to find Emil by the door in a heated discussion with a customer.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but as you can see, our record indicates that you requested a shrinking potion," Emil said. The strain in his voice clearly showed how quickly his patience was thinning.
"I'll have none of that, lad! I ordered a growth potion! My wife won't be happy with me unless I have it by tonight! I demand a full refund!" The man on the other side of the half-door was red with anger, hopping up and down and pointing doughy fingers at the poor apprentice.
"Sir," Emil said through grit teeth, "a growth potion takes a full week to make."
"Well, you're a magician, ain't ya? Use yer magic to make it faster!"
"That's not how magic works!" snapped Emil.
Lukas quickly grabbed something off of one of his dusty ingredient shelves and made his way to the door.
"S-sorcerer!" Emil jumped back in surprise.
Lukas regarded him with a small smile before turning his attention to the irate customer, a scowl darkening his visage. "Do not harass my apprentice," he commanded, "any more of this and we will have you blacklisted." He smirked at the way the man's eyes widened and held out a small paper bag. "In here is powdered mandrake root and willow bark. Add this to the potion we gave you and you should be able to satisfy your wife."
The man paled, accepting the bag and scurrying away. Lukas closed the door after him, only to have Emil jump into his arms the moment he turned around.
"Lukas!" sobbed Emil, "I'm so sorry for what I said before, back when we were talking about Mathias, and—"
A gentle scratch at the base of Emil's skull cut him off. "You're still such a child, Emil," Lukas said fondly, "yet you spout more wisdom than most adults." He held Emil at arm's length and looked him in the eye. "I should be the one apologizing to you, Emil. You're my dear apprentice and my cherished friend. I look upon you as if you were my blood brother and hold you to the highest esteem."
"Lukas…" Emil's eyes grew glassy.
"But every time something displeases me, or causes me grief, I shut you out. It was the wrong thing to do, and I am truly sorry," Lukas said sadly, "you've always been there for me, and I've been a fool not to realize it sooner. Thank you, Emil." He enveloped Emil in his arms, stroking the boy's hair as he sobbed into Lukas's brocade cloak.
Mathias watched the tender scene unfold with a tear in his eye. He'd learned something about the mysterious Sorcerer, and the realization gave him joy. Lukas had opened up to him after nearly two months, dispelling the air of stagnancy that seemed to pervade the entire shop and replacing it with a certain warmth that tickled Mathias's heart.
Suddenly, Mathias found himself with his arms full of an elated Emil. "Thank you so much for helping Lukas," he cried, "I can't even express how happy I am…"
"You don't have to," chuckled Mathias, resting his cheek against the apprentice's snow-white hair, "I'm just glad I could help out."
In his joy, Emil was more than happy to cook a hearty dinner. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Lukas talked and laughed with his apprentice as if everything were all right. Afterwards, he took Emil aside to explain to him the situation in Barrell, and received an understanding nod in return.
"Mathias is right," agreed Emil, "so far, all we can do is hope the war doesn't escalate. In the meantime, though, we must make preparations should the time come for us to fight or flee."
Lukas left the discussion feeling lighter than he had in ages, his mind swimming with plans to fend off attack. He was cleaning up dishes when he heard a knock on the door, and answered it to find Berg standing at the threshold, come to take Mathias home.
"It's been a while since I've last seen you," remarked Berg, "I'm sorry to hear about your mentor, by the way."
Lukas nodded and invited him in. "If there's anything to be sorry about, it's the state that Barrell and its citizens are in."
"I know," agreed Berg. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Between you and me, though, my sister and I have a plan to flee the kingdom in case something happens. It's troublesome, constantly walking on eggshells like this," he grumbled.
"Let me fetch Mathias," said Lukas.
He found Mathias exiting the washroom. "Berg is here to take you home," Lukas pointed towards the door.
Mathias nodded and allowed himself to be walked down the hallway before Lukas stopped. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I just realized that I have not yet thanked you properly," Lukas said.
"Oh," laughed Mathias, "don't worry about that. It's not a big deal."
"No, it is," Lukas insisted. He clasped one of Mathias's stone hands. "All my life, I've shut everyone out. It's time I started learning to let people in, and I want to take you for starting me on that journey."
"Well then," smiled Mathias, "anytime."
XxX
It had been weeks since the bombing of Barrell, and Oliennon had yet to retaliate. Rumor had it that Queen Yao was gathering mages from across the kingdom in preparation for a large-scale attack on the city of Crownheim, but that was mostly speculation. Other hopefuls thought that the bombing was a one-time thing and that a truce had already been drawn up between King Ivan and Queen Yao. However, the tense atmosphere in the capital cities said otherwise. Soldiers gathered at the palaces, secretive and dark, and noises could be heard from below the streets of Crownheim and Irale: clanking and mysterious chants, all muted by the stone. The city dwellers pretended not to hear, but it could not be denied: something was about to happen between the two kingdoms. Something tremendous.
Residents of Acacia's charming port village, Little-Whirling-By-The-Sea, were all but unaware. The hustle and bustle of a seaside market town replaced thoughts of war in the minds of the people, the Sorcerer Norge included. Rather, the good Sorcerer was focused on the one weighing down his couch, a certain stone-handed individual with the inability to do anything but sweep the floors with his feet and make dusty shelves sprout hair.
"If you're going to stay here all day, Mathias, you might as well learn to do something other than sweep." An irate Lukas wiped his sudsy hands on a damp apron and glared at his houseguest from his spot by the sink. "You could learn to dust the shelves properly, for instance."
Mathias grinned. "I can't. No hands, remember?"
Lukas scowled. "You lazy excuse for a man, you only did chores when I wasn't around to do them, didn't you?" he accused.
"You caught me," Mathias said mockingly, swinging his legs to the floor and pushing himself to a sitting position. The movement jostled his bewitched foot-brooms, which had been resting against the couch. Lukas eyed the foot-broom with annoyance before retrieving a mop.
"Since you can only use the foot-broom," he said, "I will make you a foot-mop to go with it." He pulled his wand from his apron pocket and with a simple swish and flick, the mop split into two, straight down the handle. As Lukas fed his magic into the mop, the two halves of the handle shrunk to resemble a pair of simple wooden sandals. He held them up for Mathias to see.
"Mop the parlor and kitchen floors, if you please," said Lukas, "I'm going out to the market. They had better be shining by the time I get back." He dropped the foot-mops in front of Mathias and tied his summer cloak over his shoulders. Just as he shut the door, he heard a loud groan, and laughed softly to himself.
Since that afternoon, when Mathias had found him huddled beneath black robes, he had gotten much closer with the Fisherman's son. Unfortunately, that meant that Mathias Fisher, whom, Lukas discovered, had a reputation for being notoriously lazy, had found it appropriate to be lazy in his presence.
He spends all day under my roof in an attempt to befriend me, and it's working, Lukas thought, but it's getting harder and harder to accept the fact that he just doesn't do any work anymore! He clutched at the hem of his lightweight cloak, twisting it in ire. I nag at him like I'm his mother, yet he still refuses to do any work! He's fine otherwise… his thoughts trailed off as he approached the first market stall on his list.
The stench of fresh fish invaded his nostrils. "Good morning, Monique," he greeted the shopkeeper, a young woman with brown skin and long dark hair tied into two pigtails, cascading down her shoulders and contrasting heavily with the light blue dress she wore.
"Ah, Sorcerer Norge, it's been a while," the shopkeeper said, "anything that interests you today? Everything's as fresh as can be!"
"Y'know, using magic to keep your fish fresh is unfair to the other fishers in the area," chided Lukas.
Monique cackled. "What other fishers? Ever since poor Mathias Fisher stopped being able to fish, someone had to keep this town from crumbling. Monique Abdallah to the rescue!"
Lukas raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'stopped being able to fish?'"
"Oh, didn't you hear?" Monique leaned in close as if she were whispering a secret. "Mathias Fisher was soooo lazy, his hands turned to stone!"
That was enough to arouse Lukas's suspicion. "I thought it was a curse," he said.
Monique's bubbly demeanor suddenly evaporated. "Just buy the fish and leave," she said coldly, "there are other customers waiting, and you're taking up my time."
"No, I think I understand now," Lukas replied, discreetly pulling out his wand. His cloak billowed, hiding them from any possible onlookers. He pointed the tip at Monique as the air around them grew cold. "You're the witch who cursed my friend, aren't you?"
Monique glared dangerously at Lukas. "It's not my fault your friend is a lazy good-for-nothing who doesn't know how to repair stairs properly."
Lukas paused. Those words sounded a little too familiar. He shook the feeling off, strengthening his grip on his wand. "Undo the curse," he growled, "you've caused him enough trouble."
"I can't do that," said Monique, "the stipulation for the curse says that he has to figure it out why on his own. Mathias isn't the sharpest knife in the toolbox," she chuckled at her own joke, "so…" Her form grew ethereal, fading to nothingness, "I'm going to take my leave if you don't mind, Sorcerer." Before Lukas could even utter a word of objection, Monique and her fish stand had disappeared, leaving behind an empty space and several very confused customers.
Lukas hurried through the rest of his shopping, his thoughts stuck on the cause of Mathias's curse. It was crystal clear to him that Mathias had been cursed due to his laziness, and Monique's mention of repairing stairs connected him to the unfortunate incident at Lady Abdallah's household.
"That idiot," he mumbled as he raced back to the shop, "getting cursed by Monique Abdallah, of all the magicians in this town, for something so stupid."
He burst through the door to find Mathias reclining on the couch. "Mathias!" he shouted, startling the other man out of his daydreaming.
"Bwuh—Norge! I swear I was about to get cleaning again!" Mathias yelped, nearly falling off the couch.
"Forget that, I ran into Monique Abdallah at the market today," said Lukas.
A look of confusion distorted Mathias's features. "Monique Ab…who?"
"She's the one who cursed you, don't you recall?"
"Was she a dark-skinned witch with pigtails and a vengeful streak?"
"Precisely."
Finally, Mathias seemed to share Lukas's excitement. "Did she say she'd break my curse?"
Lukas shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. She still has the vengeful streak you mentioned. However, she told me why she cursed you in the first place."
"I'm ready to listen, sir!" Mathias clicked his heels and stood up straight, eagerly awaiting Lukas's response.
"Listen well, then," Lukas cleared his throat. "According to Monique, you are a lazy good-for-nothing who can't even fix stairs properly."
A rumbling noise filled the air as the floor shook with tremors. "I can feel it, Lukas! I feel the curse breaking!" Mathias cried joyfully. Lukas looked on with a small smile as he tried to keep himself steady on the moving floor.
After what seemed like ages, the rumbling finally stopped. However, instead of the ability to use his hands, Mathias was greeted by something else entirely.
"Gudmund? What are you doing here?"
AN: It's 5AM and I just binge-wrote over 3000 words of this goddamn story, it's drawing me in all over again and I just can't stop.
After all the political mumbo-jumbo of the last few chapters, it was Denmark and Norway's turn to take the stage once again. Time for a little development!
Made-up Geography lesson: The two major kingdoms in this fic are Acacia, ruled by King Ivan, and Oliennon, ruled by Queen Yao, who has taken on the title of "Queen" for as-yet-mostly-unknown reasons. Acacia's capital is Crownheim and shines of gold while Oliennon's capital is Irale, which shines of silver. Little-Whirling-By-The-Sea, or simply Little Whirling, is a market village that also constitutes one of Acacia's ports. Because of this, it's very popular. Acacia is adjacent to the sea while Oliennon is more inland and requires the maintenance of a strong relationship with Acacia to facilitate overseas trade. However, relations haven't been so great lately...
Lukas, alias Sorcerer Norge, is one of several magicians living in Little Whirling. Monique (Seychelles) is a normally easygoing witch who lives with her mother, another of Little Whirling's high-profile magicians. Unfortunately, a shoddy patch job on a stairwell done by our hero left Monique's mother injured, so Monique, who inherited her mother's formidable powers and possesses a bit of a vengeful streak, intended to make him pay.