Hope and Sorrow

I was a magician that hated magic. I know-ironic. But there wasn’t much I could do about it.

As I walked down the streets of Mantiram, my eyes scanned the road for possible customers. There weren’t any particular characteristics I was looking for-anyone would work, but I preferred hot girls who looked adorably frazzled. I hadn’t had a date in weeks, and my sister was getting worried.

Just then, I spotted a potential customer-a short girl with glossy auburn hair and glasses. With her leaf-green eyes and cropped shirt, she looked like my sister-wait. Or was she my sister?

Suddenly, the world began to tilt under my feet, and I swore (not another one-not again). My vision warped, and the colors brightened until they blinded my eyes. As I swooned, the sidewalk faded, the sky flickered, and my fingernails started to glow a bright, bright red. I tried to keep my thoughts, but they fluttered away like butterflies. Butterflies?

************************

I was just standing in the crowd, scrolling through my m-book, when I heard a collective gasp. I looked up with a start, wondering what all the fuss was about, and saw a burst of butterflies in the blue sky. Instantly, I closed my m-book and stared at them, drinking in the sight of their jeweled wings, glimmering in the bright evening sunlight.

I was so caught up in the view that I didn’t notice the man until he snuck up behind me and tapped my shoulder. I whirled around to see a tall, thin man with a beard that reached the floor.

“Um, hello?” I said, eyeing his stained shirt. “Can I help you?”

“Of course!” he shouted, his loud voice making me wince. “Eliza, don’t you recognize me?”

My stomach dropped. This man was a magician. “My-my name’s Aubrey.” I choked out.

He slapped his forehead. “Of course! After all, your hair is so pretty.”

He lifted a lock of my hair and, to my horror, sniffed it like he was trying to get high. Quickly, I yanked the strands away and flipped up my hoodie, murmuring under my breath and praying the invisibility cloak hadn’t been a scam. But to my relief, in a few seconds, I had faded completely, my body tucked into the silvery cloth. Biting my lip, I turned to go home, balancing on my toes to avoid crunching into the gravel, but he found me anyway.

With a cackle and a snap, his red strands of magic wrapped around my jacket and tugged. The spell started to unravel, glistening threads peeling off my jacket. I yelped and tried to chant more, but the mantra’s power was only so strong, and soon the jacket had ripped off me and coalesced around the man, whose eyes now shone bright red.

I yelled and sprinted away, speeding up my chanting despite my heaving lungs. I was using the strongest spells I knew, but the man just shrugged, unperturbed, and tossed a lazy ball of flame at me.

“Nir, valkkaiyin punitimana totutal!” I gasped, and a wall of water landed in front of me, pooling around the fireball. Hands shielding me, I summoned enough breath to say, “Neruppu, valkkaiyin arvam!” ,making the fireball tore out of the water and toward the magician.

The man, though, simply flicked his hand, and a torrentious gush of water slammed down, quenching the fireball and drenching me. Nose wrinkled, I held up my damp hair and flung it behind me, the hair hitting my shoulder with a wet thump. “Great.” I said. “Now I’m gonna have to take a shower when I get home.”

The magician seemed unconcerned, too busy tousling his perfectly dry hair. “Would you like my services?” he asked calmly.

I stood up and sucked in air, preparing for my next mantra, but what he said next took me off guard:

“As your brother, I am happy to assist you.”

I let out a breath through my clenched teeth. “Look,” I said. “Mantirivati, you’re creating chaos. You need to take yourself to a hospital, before something worse happens.”

The man’s eyes glowed. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, staring to hover above the ground. “I’m not doing anything bad.”

He then released a gust of fire that roared toward me. I ducked, feeling the flames singe my hair, and then looked behind me to see that a building was now on fire. So much for not doing anything bad.

Anger welling up inside me, I flipped through my mind for a mantra-and a small smile spread across my face. I had the perfect one.

“Mantiravati,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “What’s your name?”

He blinked. “Eliza, have you forgotten?” he asked. “My name’s Ganghan, of course. What else could it be?”

Ganghan-powerful. His parents had named him well, I thought, before straightening and concentrating on the magician, on his slender frame, his glowing eyes, his morphing hair. My eyes hardened, silver poking through the green, as I said, “Ganghan, olukkattin kayirukalal unnaip pinaittukkol.”

The magician’s eyes widened, and he let out a scream as his magic faltered, sending him tumbling to the ground. Heart thumping, I watched as his own magic turned against him, wrapping himself in gleaming silver ropes, with a hint of blood red. He grunted as the ropes squeezed tight and pierced into his tattoos, cutting off his magic. These bindings were the only spell powerful enough to stop a magician, and even then I could see the magician’s red bursts of magic fighting against the ropes, clamoring to be let out.

I shook my head and glanced at my own tattoo, a lotus outlined in silver. Since I was a kotuppuvar, my magic wasn’t as strong as the other kinds, but I wasn't sure I wanted it to be stronger. After seeing a magician, who would?

Sighing, I twisted my hands up, muttered a few words under my breath, and walked off, the magician’s hovering body following me as I walked through the deserted streets. I had been too focused on my battle to notice, but all the people seemed to have fled once the magician awakened. Smart of them, I thought. Here, in Mantiram, where magicians were as common as the homeless, it was a good idea to run at the slightest sign of trouble. It wasn’t cowardice-it was self-preservation, something dearly treasured in this city.

As I walked through the broken buildings and dusty roads, the wind lashing and spitting dust into my eyes, I took a moment to say a prayer for the magician. He was dangerous, insane, terrifying, but he was also fragile, delicate, and filled to the brim with magic. I looked back at the magician, his eyes closed as his mind slowly returned, filling up the space where magic and madness had once resided. He’d made a tough decision by choosing to become a magician, and now he was facing the consequences.

Wiping the tear at the corner of my eye, I stepped over a bit of rubble and, choosing to ignore the dead cat in front of me, looked up at the sky. The row of skyscrapers had been decimated, now transmogrified into an achingly-familiar pattern-one tower, one other, and then, nothing,. It was like if your tooth fell out, except here, a lot of them had fallen, and it wasn’t natural.

My cheeks swelled like a chipmunk as I let out a deep sigh. Walking through the silent city, my hair swirling around my chin, I looked sad and ancient, like a sorrowful statue, frozen in the same pose for centuries-and I felt like it too. No matter how much I tried, things like this kept following me-young teenagers, drunk on magic, lost and insane, driven mad by their own gift-and eventually, driven to the grave. While I’d been able to guard the city, these constant fights eventually took a toll on me-dark circles under my eyes, mismatched outfits, deathly pale skin. I looked much older than I really was, and my heart carried more than it should. I’d considered retiring more than once, but in the city that wasn’t an option-the rent was sky-high, and the days were long and lonely without work. So I continued, in a misguided, lengthy, expensive quest that spun me in circles, whispered in my sleep, and hovered like my shadow.

Rubbing my eyes wearily, I murmured a little under my breath, and suddenly one of the doors in the streets opened and a head poked out. “Aubrey?”

I walked up, the magician following me, and stuck out my hand. “How do you do,’ I said.

The head, now attached to a short body, walked out the door. It was a boy, mousy, with a long, long nose that looked like it could double as a fishing pole. “Good, thank you.” he said. “Is that a magician?”

“Who else,” I said, not bothering to add proper punctuation.

The boy nodded and then, after a few seconds of just standing there, finally got it into his head to move and let me in. “Darla!” he shouted as I guided the magician into the narrow passage. “We got another one!”

He vanished somewhere, like all good assistants do, leaving me alone in the cramped room. For a reception room, it wasn’t particularly receiving; it seemed more concerned with its own trinkets than with any of the magicians being brought in. Plus, every surface was covered in little bits and pieces, making it difficult to even sit down. I’d once sat on an ornamental knife-and I wasn’t the only one.

Scowling, I swept a large vase off a table and dropped the body there, letting out a sigh of relief. Carrying comatose magicians is harder than it used to be, I thought as I stepped to the side to avoid the shattered terracotta. Maybe I should just dump water on their head and let them walk on their own. A smile flickered across my face and I stared at the magician’s head, wondering if Darla would mind a soaked carpet.

In the midst of my thoughts, I heard a tongue click from behind me and turned to see Darla-a tall, outrageously dressed lady with a feathered hat as large as her ego. “Aubrey, dear.” she drawled, one satin slipper nudging what was once her vase, “Do you really have to do this every time? You know these Hing vases are expensive.”

I scowled. “Yeah, if you consider a 10-panum Hing knockoff expensive.”

Darla sighed and snapped her fingers. An assistant immediately entered the room and crouched to pick up the vase pieces, but Darla ignored them as she said, “Aubrey, dear, it’s for the aesthetics. Don’t you want this place to look nice?”

I glanced around. “It looks like a medieval chest vomited all over the place.”

“Exactly.” Darla said, ignoring the insult. “It looks beautiful.”

She glanced around and then, to my horror, stepped on the assistant’s back. The girl buckled under the weight, but after a few seconds she pushed up her back as if nothing had happened. Darla acted as such. “Now, dear, what have we here?” she asked, turning to examine the magician.

I nudged a few vase pieces closer to the girl, and she gave me a grateful smile. “He was searching for work in the square,” I said. “He thought I was his sister and then just….lost it.” I paused. “He destroyed half the city.”

Darla lit her cigar, a purple thing that would be elegant if it didn’t have feathers all over it. “Impressive,” she said, appearing unimpressed. “Did he say anything?”

I shook my head and glanced down at the girl, who was shaking under Darla's weight. Subtly, I slipped my boot under the girl’s stomach, keeping my gaze trained on Darla. Her mouth pressed into a frown, and I gave a dazzling smile. “So,” I said. “Should I take the magician to the infirmary?”

Darla hopped off the servant and straightened her coats. “Yes.” she said. “I shall see you around.”

I let a small grin spread on my face. “I will too, if I’m unlucky.”

Darla’s mouth twitched, but she said nothing, instead choosing to sweep out of the room in a grand swirl of purple and lace.

I murmured a few words under my breath and the magician was lifted off the table, his coat dragging down through the air. Biting my lip, I shifted the spell to one side and muttered another mantra. The vase pieces began to glow, swirling around me and onto the table before solidifying into a vase. The strain of two spells came over me, but I showed nothing as I turned and strode toward the exit, the magician floating behind me.

*******************

I woke up in a daze, the room spinning around me, white blending with blue like a blueberry smoothie. A face hovered over me, auburn hair framing stolid eyes. “Well.” she said. “That was quick.”

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, wincing at the crack of my back. “What happened?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what happened?”

“No.”

She let out a sigh. “You burned the city, scared out a crowd, and nearly killed me.”

“Oh.” I looked away. “I’m…sorry.”

“You’ll have to pay 10000 panum.” the girl said, with the emotion of a doorknob. “Expected in a month.”

I sighed and nodded. “I’ll scrape it together.”

The girl hesitated, then looked at the window. “You’ll stay here three days.”

“Alright.”

“No magic.”

“Alright.”

“And a tattoo remover will come, see if they can do something about your magic.”

I shot up in my bed, banging my knee on the bedpost. “No!”

The girl tilted her head, the light revealing the dark circles under her eyes. “You want to be a magician?”

I let out a breath and sat back against the hard pillows. “No, but it’s…it’s a necessary career choice.”

“Why?”

I stiffened. “I thought there were laws against asking that.”

She shrugged. “This isn’t a legal interrogation.”

My curiosity piqued. “So then why did you come?” Most officers avoided magicians like the plague.

The girl shrugged again. “Let’s say I have some questions, just for a little…study I’m doing.”

“Alright, hit me.”

She raised her eyebrows, then whispered a few words. The wind around me hardened and punched me in the face, making me reel back, more startled than hurt.

“I meant….metaphorically.”

“Oh.” The girl seemed surprised, but her mouth twitched upward. “Sorry.” She leaned back on the wall, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder, and raised a clipboard. “This will get personal.”

“Alright,” I said reluctantly. “But what is this for?”

She raised her eyes from the clipboard. “Beneficial purposes.”

I stared at her. “Which means…”

“I can’t tell you, but it will help magicians, I promise.”

A promise from her seemed worth as much as the knockoff vase in the reception room, but I was curious, and she’d already punched me. “Alright.”

The girl raised the clipboard up like she was trying to hide behind it. “First question-How did you become a magician?”

I shifted in my blankets. “The usual-I went to a Cavern shop, got some tattoos, and had some gems sewn into my skin.” I raised my hands and turned them so she could see the gleaming rubies. “Both of my wrists.”

“Why did you become a magician?”

I looked up at the ceiling. “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine.”

I looked down at the girl. “Why did you become an officer?”

The girl sucked in a breath, but her face steadied and her voice was monotone when she spoke. “Someone close to me became a magician and…I saw what it did to them.” she looked away. “He’s dead now.”

“Oh.” Pain slammed into my gut. “For me, my…mother, she’s sick. I became a magician so I would have the magic to cure her.”

“Is she better now?”

Tears threatened to come. “She’s doing fine, but..she needs regular infusions.”

“Take her to a hospital.”

“I tried. We couldn’t afford it.” I rub my eyes, hoping she didn’t see the tear. “We’ve been chewed up and spit out by the system, officer. Maybe you’d better fix that before you start cracking down on magicians.”

The girl looked up, her auburn hair glowing in the sunlight. “I don’t know,” she said. “There’s so much to do, and so much at stake-and we have so little resources.” She brushed some hair out of her eye. “I guess we’re the same, Ganghan.”

I nodded, and it was silent for a moment, both of us lost in our grief, silent tears rolling down cheeks. We were so different, yet our sorrows tied us together, the two of us bobbing in the waves of life, dreading the inevitable tsunami. Would the waters ever calm?

*****************************

Just then, I looked at the window, shading my eyes against the sun, and I had my answer. No, the waters would toss and turn forever, but the sunlight was eternal; it would shine on the waves forever, turning spray and damp into bright glitter that showered on our skin. Life was hard, but it was hopeful, always moving forward in the hope that somewhere, someday, life would get better. And if it never did,

That was still okay,

because we would still be happy

among the rolling waves,

drinking in the sunlight

And never losing hope.