Chapter 76
Khan: "it is well to consider deeply before binding yourself to an idea, a cause or a man."
Kamen has taken them not to a stately mansion or a hidden retreat as one might expect for a meeting of mages, but rather to a skyscraper in some large city. He's transported the three of them by magic, refusing any assistance from Gold; they arrive smoothly enough in the lobby of a skyscraper, but when Gold glances at Kamen's hands, he notices the magic there has dimmed. Kamen blushes. "Yeah. Ahem. Well, it's been a while since I carried passengers."
"I've been wondering," Gold remarks, "in the judge's chambers, why did you turn back Time when you could've simply wiped memories? It would have been much less draining on you."
Now Kamen fully reddens and stares at the elevator buttons instead of his companions. "I guess—you've always been kind of the gold standard—pardon the pun—when it comes to technical aspects of magic, and I guess I wanted to show off a bit, do something you can't, so you'd respect me."
"That's so sweet," Belle says, giving Kamen's arm a squeeze.
"Kevin, I respected you from the moment you said you could beat the IRS for me," Gold replies. "So. Where are we?"
"New York City. We're a block off Central Park." This, Kamen explains as they ride the elevator up, is the home of the youngest of the mages, a master of metals who, in this world, owns a software company in California. Chloe herself answers the door when they ring, and after exchanging cheek kisses with Kamen, she welcomes the newcomers. She's dressed in Stella McCartney—Belle takes to her right away. Chloe links arms with both Golds and walks them into her spacious but, right now, crowded living room.
Someone pours wine for the newcomers; Chloe introduces him as an Elemental who, in this world, works as head sommelier in a Washington, DC, restaurant ("The perfect position for gathering gossip—and for eating very well," the Elemental pats his belly).
Gold surveys the crowd for familiar faces from his Enchanted Forest past. Belle leans in to Chloe and whispers, "Are they all magic users?" At the hostess' nod, Belle remarks, "They look so. . . normal." And indeed they are: not exceedingly beautiful or elegant or even powerful, these people could be easily mistaken for taxi drivers or coffee shop clerks or CFOs or nurses or professors.
Or tailors or librarians.
"All the better to fit in, my dear," Kamen waggles his eyebrows wolfishly.
"We're embedded," Chloe says. "We decided long ago we needed to live as humans if we were going to learn how to serve them. Thirty days a month, we're working stiffs like everyone else. One day a month, we come together as magic practitioners."
"And as influencers," Kamen adds. "Hoping to make small changes in the world that will enable the chosen ones to rise to their destinies and lead."
"Now, let's introduce you around."
Gold knows his answer even before the first mage shakes his hand. Something in him speaks to something in them, something deeper and older than their bodies, something that stretches to the beginnings of life and magic. Though he knows his answer, he listens to their sales pitch, to satisfy the human part of his mind, the part that doesn't trust instinct and requires "proof." Besides, a slight shiver that passes through Belle's hand into his clues him in that curiosity has overtaken her and she won't relax until she's heard the story. He, however, really doesn't need it: the ancient fibers of his magic carry the story already.
"Won-Que!" Belle exclaims, and the monk bows to them, then, reflecting his partly Western education, kisses their cheeks on both sides of the face. She gives him a hug, brief because she doesn't want to embarrass him. "We had no idea you were part of this."
"All things in their time, Mrs. Gold." The exchanged glance between Won-Que and Gold, however, demonstrates that Gold is not surprised.
Nor is he surprised when a hump-shouldered, leathery fellow nudges the monk aside and thumps Gold on the back in grinning welcome. "Rumplestiltskin, mijo!"
Chuckling–for at his age, Gold is well beyond being anyone's mijo–Gold introduces his Peruvian rival/friend. "Belle, this is Alejandro Rosario, whom I meant at the retreat in Lima. He speaks no English–"
"A little," Rosario corrects. "I speak a little. Well, quite a lot, actually." He smiles apologetically. "When you've lived in this world five hundred years, you have time to study."
"Why did you–when we worked together at the retreat–" Gold sputters. "You acted like you didn't understand a word I was saying."
Rosaro shrugs. "It wasn't time. Now it is."
"One of the qualities we like best about you is your patience." Kamen sets a directing hand on Gold's shoulder. "Three hundred years building a single curse–I couldn't do that." He urges the Golds forward to meet the other mages. They come in all sizes, ethnicities and ages, and both genders: there are as many women as men, and Gold smiles, knowing that's a plus for Belle. They've come from all the lands of magic that Gold has ever heard of, along with some he hasn't, and that's a plus for him, especially as their talents are introduced to him; if he puts his competitive pride aside, he can see Kamen was right: there's much he can learn here. Yet, he keeps hearing from them how much they admire his knowledge–for most of them, more far-reaching than theirs, as they've chosen to specialize, capitalizing on their innate abilities and inclinations. And every one of the thirty-three expresses an anticipatory gratitude for his acceptance of their invitation to join their cause. They know: as they shake his hand their magic tastes his, very gently and briefly so as not to be rude, but the contact is enough: his magic informs them he's already decided to join them.
Husband-and-wife knowledge, passing through Belle's hand clenched in his, informs him Belle's made the same decision. Whatever it is in her that enables her to read hearts–he's never seen anyone else with this ability, so he doesn't know if it's a rare, inborn magic she possesses or just a human talent–she's already called upon it, and it's made its assessment.
Still, they will listen, then at home, they will discuss what they've heard and seen and felt, and only later, a day or a week perhaps, they will make their commitment. Although they both have decided to trust these mages, they don't know yet what would be expected of them if they join these ranks, nor whether their personal goals align with those if SEMS.
Trays of hors d'ouvres are passed around—not by servants, but family style. Chloe positions herself in the center of the living room and claps her hands to draw attention; the chatter ceases and eyes turn to her expectantly. "Good evening, folks. Everyone's here, so let's get started. Kevin?" She yields the floor, seating herself on the arm of a couch that the Golds have taken seats on.
"Well, you've all met our guests informally, and you've certainly heard a lot about them over the past thirty years." People chuckle softly and Kevin shrugs at the Golds. "I told ya, we've been waiting a long time for you, and we're going to do our damnedest to make a good first impression. Just to make it formal: Seers and sorcerers, wizards and witches, we welcome to our ranks, if he'll have us, Rumplestiltskin of Misthaven, where he is known as the Dark One, the Spinner, the Deal Maker, and the most powerful mage in the land. Many lands, actually, for his knowledge bridges all forms of magic and he's mastered nearly them all."
Gold winces just a little at the nearly.
"And we welcome, if she'll have us, Rumplestiltskin's wife, Lady Belle of Avonlea, Yagoai Tamer, who has a most precious skill that we hope to employ in our next endeavor."
Belle cocks her head in curiosity. "You need a housekeeper?"
Chloe shakes her head slowly. "We need a mother."
"Chloe! Let's not scare the lady off before she's even finished her first glass of wine," the sommelier protests.
"Don't worry, Belle," Kevin pleads. "And please don't run away! We'll explain everything in due time. Won-Que, maybe you'd better pick it up from here. Won-Que's our chief scribe and historian." Wearily, Kamen takes a seat and the monk replaces him in the center of the room.
The monk, who's dressed in an off-the-rack Western style suit instead of the robes Gold and Belle have always seen him in, ponders for a moment, then begins. "In the time of Emperor Yongle, I arrived in this world, a refugee from a land devastated by greed. The powerful of that land were at constant war with each other, always seeking more; and in the end, those among them who had gained magic used that magic to wreak total destruction. I saw a very similar magic employed in this land, when the atomic bomb was created.
"In the beginning, I was alone. I lived in the shadows, fearfully, never daring to practice my craft, never daring to speak when I saw evil around me. I thought to protect myself from persecution by hiding in a monastery, but rather, I discovered other students of magic there. Most were people of this land, but gradually, I met others who had traversed realms. Slowly, in secret, we began to meet, to remember who we were and to ask of ourselves why the Fates had brought us here.
"As we grew in number and in power, we began to ask ourselves if we were meant to serve a purpose here, something beyond self-protection. We began to observe and report and study in earnest, and we began to feel a calling to use the talents we had to serve a larger purpose. We came to believe that we were meant, not to eradicate Evil, because Evil serves a purpose too: mankind must always have a choice. But rather, we were meant to protect and nurture Good. But even as centuries passed, magic practitioners gained no acceptance in this world, and in fact by most mortals are assumed, even today, to be minions of the Devil. We decided we had to remain hidden, doing small acts of Good that most people could write off as 'luck' or 'miracles.' The larger acts had to come from the mortals themselves. And we saw that this was right, in order for mankind to retain free will.
"So in each generation we seek out an individual who carries in him or her a strong connection to the divine, a gift to lead and a hunger to serve, and with small acts of magic we clear the way for that one to rise, to fulfill his or her destiny and to bring mankind a little closer to the Light. Some of the chosen are people whose names are carved into mankind's history; others never achieved such prominence, but through their work effected lasting change.
"We open paths and hope that the candidates will take them. We never push, but sometimes we nudge; we never trick but we do plant ideas through dreams and the power of suggestion. A book that suddenly catches the eye, a chance meeting with just the right teacher, a musical refrain that sparks the imagination, a photograph that leaves an indelible impression on the heart: inspiration, they call it; we call it work.
"We choose candidates that our Seers can see a destiny for, but the candidate always chooses his or her own way. Most of the time, it works out and the world improves a little through our efforts. But this time, we're anxious, as anxious as we felt when we decided to involve ourselves directly in World War II. Our Seers foretell a series of catastrophes over the next four generations that will lead to irreparable harm to the planet. We believe we can lessen the damage, if the right leaders emerge, and you two have presented us with a unique opportunity, one we think the Fates have gifted us with.
"Never before has the right combination of magics come together: your sorcery, Rumple, and the touch of the divine that resides in you, Belle. For two so different to have been gifted with True Love, it's a most amazing thing, very special, very powerful, and we urge you to consider why you were blessed in this way. If it's not to serve a higher purpose than yourselves, then what? You've already felt the calling, I daresay, to reach out beyond your family.
"As long as you stay together, and as long as you stay true to Love, you will have access to its magic. That's why we prepared this path for the two of you, the false crimes you were accused of. I'm sorry for extreme measures; it's not how we work, usually, but Rumplestiltskin, a lifetime of rejection had isolated you. You began to come out of that isolation with the small nudges we gave you, but though you reached out, you would not let others in, still too prideful and too fearful to depend upon your fellow man. So we whispered in Snow White's ear 'exile,' and then you saw that you needed others and they needed you, and you began to open yourself, but it was happening so very slowly, and we have so little time to change the course this world is on, and so we took advantage of your enemies, and you were brought low. It was only when you had no other recourse that you bound yourself to the people around you. By learning to be served, you are ready to serve."
Gold reflects, "You said to me once that I lived a half-life."
"Yes. You see yourself in entirety now. We invite you now, Rumplestiltskin and Belle Gold, to serve with us, and to be served by us. Give us your answer when you're ready, but please, don't take too long."
The room falls silent as Won-Que refills his wine glass and sits down. Then Chloe jumps her feet and announces, "Okay, it's show-and-tell time. Who has something to share? A new potion? A revised spell? An unearthed scroll of ancient magic?"
The Golds walk away with three fresh magic lessons and much to think about.
As he drifts off to sleep that night, Gold reflects on his very long life and the path he's wandered to reach this fork in the road. All those centuries he bargained and studied and experimented to perfect his skills, and it turns out he'd missed the point. His life wasn't the magic. It never was. What he was supposed to learn all along was that love was his, unconditional love and all it entailed: trusting, caring, supporting through thick and thin, no matter what, giving help freely, and accepting help in return, asking for it when he couldn't manage alone, and understanding love made it his right to ask, just as it was his privilege to receive.
Well, he might be a slow learner, but what he learns, he keeps.
In three days Belle texts a dinner invitation to Kamen.
He texts back immediately. "Does that mean you've decided?"
"Yes. Be here at 7. Bring Pinot Noir. We're having salmon."
"Yes you've decided or yes you'll join us?"
"Yes."
"Aw come on, Belle!"
He appears on the front porch with a bottle of wine in one hand and a basket of flowers in the other. A balloon tied to the basket depicts a stork carrying a baby by the diaper. "Thought this might help, in case you're leaning toward the negative," Kamen declares. "Just a little sly reference toward the project we have in mind for you two, if your answer's in the affirmative."
Belle laughs and accepts the basket. "Rumple, he's here! Come in, Kevin."
Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, Gold comes out of the kitchen. "Hello, Kevin. Hope you're hungry. I made a Boston cream pie."
"Then it's a yes!" Kamen deduces. "Cause if it was a no, you know I'd be too depressed to eat." Then he ambles into the kitchen and opens the stove to see what's cooking. "Well, maybe I'd eat, but I'd be too depressed for second helpings."
Belle laces her fingers through her husband's. "I think we should put him out of his misery, don't you?"
Kamen feigns alarm. "That's what they say just before they say, 'Shoot him.'"
Belle clicks her tongue and Gold remarks, "So insecure, dearie. Do we really mean that much to you?"
"Look at all we went through to get you this far. There's only one mage I'd work harder to snare, and that's me. So: yes, dearie, listen to your better half and put me out of my misery."
Gold nods at his wife and she draws herself up straight to make the formal announcement. "Yes, Mr. Kamen, we accept the offer to work with the Society of Embedded Mages and Seers. Thank you for honoring us thus."
"Whoo-hoo!" Kamen tosses the bottle of wine into the air; when it comes back down, it's morphed into champagne. He pops the cork magically as Belle fetches three champagne glasses. "All those years of study paid off! Do you have any idea how boring tax law is? But never mind, I can now take down my shingle and do what I really want to do: host a TV game show!"
"Well, here's to the next MC for Family Feud." Gold salutes him with the champagne. "And what, pray tell, is in our future?"
"And what did Chloe mean with that remark about me being a mother?"
"As usual, she was jumping the gun. First things first." He raises his glass. "To the first husband and wife team in SEMS." They drink, and he offers a second toast. "And in anticipation of the first in-laws and grandpa-grandson team."
Gold narrows his eyes. "Are you manipulating us again, Kamen?"
"You bet. Next order of business: bringing Emma into the fold, and when he graduates college, Henry."
"He's magical, then?" Belle wonders.
"Gonna give Grandpa a run for his money, but not for some time yet. Both his parents need a little work before they'll be on board with him studying magic. But that's just one of the projects we have in mind for you. The other one, should you decide to accept it, it's a lulu. It'll take some explaining, and we'll need Won-Que's talents to illustrate the concept, so if you can get away for a couple of hours Friday night. . . .The library closes at six on Fridays, doesn't it?"
"It does. Yes, we can make it," Belle answers.
"All in due time, then," Gold agrees. "Now it's time for my glazed salmon with broccoli rice, before it dries out." He withdraws Belle's chair.
"And do I spy some more of those rosemary rolls?" Kamen spreads his napkin across his lap. "I gotta learn how to cook."