When Magic Flows

MOTIVATION PART I

Nicholas POV

After that Yule Ball, I came home with my head full of Allegra. I have heard about her five years ago when I was 15. In fact, the first thing that I heard about her was that the Scott family had a teenage girl who would ascend to leadership in the future, and the girl has shown the potential to be the most powerful witch in our generation. I was also a teenager, so this was not really interesting to me at the moment. My father received a few warlocks here and there, so there were a couple of them visiting us back in that day, and they spread the words that, somehow, were etched in my mind.

We live in the middle of the forest, cloaked by magic and among the eastern hemlocks that helped to provide us some privacy. This was the only house I’ve known my whole life, although my dad told me once that I was born in another house. He almost never talked about me as a baby, or about my mother. He always used the expression “It is what it is” when I tried to make him talk about his past. I tried to understand where we came from, how my mom died, but eventually, I gave up on asking him about our past. He never gave me more than a fragment of the answers I was looking for. 

I grew up isolated from the world but as soon as I turned 18, I started to explore the neighboring towns, always giving a fake name, no details about our location, and even sometimes cloaking myself, disguising my appearance.

Most of the skilled warlocks started their advanced studies when they completed 18, but I was not one of them. Since my dad was not a coven member anymore, he actually didn’t care about age, so as soon as he could, he started demonstrating advanced magic to me, and since my power flow two years ago, I passed from theoretical to practical studies. I absorbed knowledge like a sponge, well, that was what I thought. I did not have anybody to compare to. Life was kind of lonely and I would do anything to have a more hectic life. 

Being a warlock that grew up without a coven and with a father that was clearly a dark wizard makes your references, not the best possible, and your moral sense a little twisted. Eventually, I would have followed my own path and would have wanted to leave my dad’s home, but I was positive that no coven would accept me as a member. A twisted moral sense makes me a grey warlock. I was not as dark as my dad was, but I wasn’t a light warlock for sure. 

I started to visit to the neighboring village and I found a few wizards with whom I could exchange complex elixirs for money or other interesting information. In one of those visits, I met the daughter in law of an elder witch from the closest coven. She wasn’t that good with potions, and I could brew practically anything, so I was interested in doing business with her. But this time, instead of her money, I exchanged the elixir for a piece of information and I learned that this Scott girl would ascend soon.

Maybe it was my curiosity or maybe I was just pulled to know someone so young and so powerful. They used to say that the most powerful sorcerers were the elders, but even they were talking about this girl and her potential. Honestly, I couldn’t explain the reason why, but in my grey soul, I knew that I should meet her. 

A few potions and spells here and there for the right people and I learned the requirements I needed to get to that Yule Ball where she would be. There would security, but in theory, they would not harm any invitee. To get in, I would need to have pure intentions and an invite. There wouldn’t be any background check, and the invitations were not nominal. Good!

 Luck was on my side, or I should say the universe. I wasn’t friendly with the Goddess, so I didn’t believe it was them, but a very complex work came up and suddenly I had a desperate warlock willing to exchange his invitation for a bewitched object to lovingly tie him to a woman. I knew that what I was doing wasn’t right or moral, but at that moment I didn’t care. All I cared about was to meet the famous and powerful witch that everyone was talking about, and maybe I could see her with my own eyes and feel the power emanating from her so I could verify for myself if the legend was real or just bedtime stories the warlocks invented. 

I don’t know if my dad knew what I was doing because if he did, he never mentioned, and since I was 20 years old, I was allowed to come and go as I wished. In fact, for the last few days, he was acting a little strange. He didn’t talk as he used to, had always a grim face, and seemed exceptionally tired. This wasn’t his normal, but since he never liked to talk about himself, I left him to it. When he was ready, I would know what was going on. 

I also couldn’t explain the reason, but the Scott girl (and I didn't even know her first name yet) piqued my curiosity. The faceless girl would be mentioned around me here and there in my visits. I would see or hear something about that damn Yule Ball all the time or something would happen to bring her family up as the theme around me, until the moment that I felt the urgency to get to know her. I knew I would want something from her, but I couldn’t say what it was yet.

The favor I would ask her became clear a few days later when I arrived home and found my dad unconscious on the living room floor. I left all the bags that I was carrying at the door and came running to his side trying to wake him up. We always had an awake elixir that I tried to make him swallow. After a few seconds, he woke up and I laid him on the couch until he felt strong enough to talk to me about what happened.

Since I wasn’t a healer, I have never felt comfortable enough to diagnose anyone or prescript some medicine, so I grabbed our car and went to the next town with a witch that was also a healer. I ignored every sign on the road and arrived at her house in record time and a few minutes, she was examining him, and the prognosis wasn’t good at all.

“Your father is a dark warlock, Isn’t he?” She asked me.

How did she know? “Yes, he is. But we’re not here to cause you any harm, I swear. I just wanted to know what was wrong with him.” I assured her.

“It’s the black magic, darling. It is spreading through his veins and literally killing him.”

This could not be happening. Was he so into the dark magic that this could cost him his life?

“You see,” She continued, “dark magic is like an addiction. You feel it hit and it involves you in a way that you will always want more, and then one day you are so involved that it enslaves you and spreads through your system. It consumes you like cancer and apparently, your dad has not much time left.”

I was getting desperate by the minute. The idea of being completely alone was highly scaring: “What can we do for him then?” 

She shrugged and just told me: “Maybe he could have a chance if you find a powerful light sorcerer who could help, but nothing is guaranteed. It would take sacrifice from him and the sorcerer, and he needs to be up to do the necessary changes. But I repeat, your dad doesn’t have much time.”

And just then, I did not have just the pulling towards her to count for the reason to meet this girl. Maybe she could help us. You can consider a noble cause to help someone in need, right? I believe in remission and second chances. I was waiting for myself for my second chance. Why couldn’t I get one for my dad too?

Don’t get me wrong. Life with my dad was rough and he wasn’t the best father in the world, but he was also my dad and I loved him. He made a lot of sacrifices to keep us alive until now. Life was hard without a coven and, apparently, for him was hardest because of the darkness in him. I knew that I should try to let the light in, but I haven’t seemed the urge to do it so far. But he scared the hell of me when I found him passed out on our home floor and it changed things. I had to try and save him, and this could be the best and only chance we would have.

When he was clear enough to come back home – after all, this wasn’t a wizard’s hospital, just an old woman’s healer home -– we went back, and I made him stay in bed for the rest of the day. The next day was harder. Stubborn as he was, he tried to escape from home without being noticed twice. By the third day, he told me to mind my own business and leave him alone, because he doesn’t need a babysitter at all. What really worried me was the fact that if he was at home resting, he wouldn’t have the chance to practice dark magic and, therefore, he wouldn’t have a chance to make his medical condition worse than it was. But, by the fourth day he declared himself healed, I could no longer have a word about it. To be honest, this Yule Ball thing couldn’t come earlier. 

So, the day finally came, and I was willing to go and solve his situation. I would get him some help and I would get it tonight. At least, I would talk to her and try to move her, to see if she were compassionate if she would help someone in need. All good leaders should have a little bit of compassion, right? And the Moonrise coven was known as a comprehensive coven for generations. I was just hoping that their next daughter wouldn’t be that different.