by J C Gilbert
Because reasons.
We walked back to Lilly’s house. Her mom and dad were lovely, but kind of glued to the TV, and I’m not talking about Netflix here. They had adverts and everything. I always forgot how annoying ads were until I visited her place.
Lilly’s room was even more of a mess than mine. There were more shelves than could reasonably be accommodated in such a small space, and every shelf was packed with treasures. The whole room was a shrine to Lilly’s eclectic personality. It had that distinctive smell that a place always gets when incense is burned there regularly.
She placed her new Goku figure next to the Vegeta she had on her shelf and admired the scene.
“Now they can be friends again,” she said.
“Were they friends?”
“Sort of. Well, its an expanded definition of friendship. Hey, we should light your candle.”
“In this place? I’m fairly sure we would burn the whole place down.”
“Nah, I burn candles all the time. Let's roll the dice, shall we?”
I laughed it off. “I should really head home.”
“Alright. If you must.”
“Thanks for, well, you know.”
Lilly smiled, “I’m glad we talked things over, Padawan.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Friday morning had that Saturday morning feeling. It had been a pretty exhausting week, and I was ready to leave school behind me and focus on the other infinitely more fascinating things happening in my life.
When at last I was free from the temple of doom the sun was hot, and my mind was on Elaine and her quest. I didn't exactly want to fight any goblins or talk to any toll people, but I was ready for some fun, maybe even a little adventure.
Elaine met me on the outskirts of a small town just before sunset. The town was much smaller than the one in which I had first found Elaine and much more populated. It was defended by a high wall.
“What are we doing here?” I asked
“Come on, I know a place.”
She led me through the gate and down a narrow street. I felt pretty conspicuous in my jeans and sweater. My canvas shoes were not exactly period dress either.
As we walked, I pondered whether it might be a good idea to start keeping some simple costumes somewhere in The Library so that I wouldn’t stand out quite as bad. I wondered how the Librarian would feel about that and pictured her standing over a heap of gathered clothing with massive fists at her waist, “what are these doing in my library?”
It wasn't long before we reached our destination. In appearances, it didn't look very different from the other buildings around it, though it was made of wood and not stone. The smell of deep-fried potatoes wafted in the evening air. The noises coming from inside were less enticing.
“A pub,” I said, my tone level.
“Yeah, where else do you go to have fun?”
“Not to a pub.”
“You are joking, right?”
She pulled me inside. The door swung dramatically as we walked in, a bit like a cowboy movie. The noise did not stop though. These weren’t the sort of people to pay attention to what was going on around them when there was drink to be drunk.
I think I read somewhere that if you spill a lot of your drink while drinking, then it wasn’t called drinking anymore, it was called quaffing. If so then these people were definitely quaffing.
I felt very uncomfortable.
“What will it be?” asked Elaine as she pulled out a bar stool and sat down.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I said. I looked around nervously at the very loud, very large, and often very ballistic patrons who swung, wobbled, yelled, and yes, quaffed, about the bar.
“I don't think so, book girl. I’m going to order you something very large and very strong.”
“No, really,” I protested. I hadn't drunk before. Ever. I wasn't necessarily against drinking per se, but it just wasn't part of my life. This place was definitely not where I wanted to have my first drink. I always pictured my first time being at a restaurant with Mom and Dad, or maybe with Lilly watching some B-rated horror movie.
Elaine ignored my protest and gave the barman an order which I couldn't hear. I started to weigh up my options. I mean, I had come here just to chill out. I was imagining another bonfire or something with just Elaine, minus the animal cruelty if that was possible. Here I was well out of my comfort zone. There were so many people, so many loud, drunk, and scary people.
The barman poured out two drinks and soon I was holding a mug full of an amber looking drink. It smelled faintly of roses and ginger.
“Have a sip?” she swigged a mouthful.
“Can't we go someplace else?”
“Nah. Hey look, those guys are playing Napkin.”
“What's Napkin?”
“Man, please make sure that I never visit wherever you are from. I’m getting the feeling that it's not very fun there.”
Elaine hopped off her stool and started nudging her way through the crowd. She dodged a man mid-topple by only a split second. Realizing this she just laughed and kept on going.
I envied her. I wished I could just fit in like that. Not specifically with these people, but it would be nice to fit in with some group of people. Lilly was great and all, but I guess sometimes I wish that I had more people around. Like a group or a place that didn’t cause Hank to freak out.
I looked down at the liquid in my drink and wondered who it was at the bottom of the mug. Judging by my reflection, they were just like me, only a funny color, and slightly swirly.
I took a sip.
The drink tasted sharp and fragrant. I shuddered to think of how Elaine managed to drink as much as she had as quickly as she had. I tried another sip.
No, not today.
I put the mug on the bench and went after Elaine. It was like navigating a sea of sharks in there, except that there was no water and the sharks were drunk.
At last, I found her inside a ring of people. They had gathered to watch her play Napkin against a man who was easily three times as massive as Elaine. Judging by what people were shouting, she was winning.
“Is that all you’ve got, friend?” she slurred, thudding her drink on the table.
“You amuse me, small person,” said the man, “I have hardly started Napkinning to my full potential.” He was clearly very drunk but was wonderfully articulate. “When I have done with Napkinning, you will be the floor.”
“The floor?” asked Elaine.
“Under all the tables,” he said flatly.
“Hey, Elaine!” I called, barely audible in a room full of noise.
“Alex! You’re drunk!”
“That's you.”
“Yes, it is. Well done, you drunk.”
“Can we go?”
“And let this man tell everyone in the countryside, and the surrounding areas, that he is the Napkin King? And I am nothing but a handkerchief? A spare tissue? A wet wipe.”
“Wait, you have wet wipes here?”
“What's a wet wipe? Look, I’m not leaving. You can go if you want, but I finish what I start. Even if it means-” she looked at her opponent. He was collapsed amongst a mess of empty mugs.
“I win!” she said, jumping up and spilling her drink on her opponent, “drinks are on him!”
The gathered crowd celebrated by pouring their drinks on the man. Several started singing a celebratory song, but none of them sang the same song. This gave the general impression of audible chaos.
“Can this man get a napkin?” Elaine bellowed at the barman. There were cheers from everyone.
“OK, well I’ll just leave then-” I started, but paused mid-sentence as a drink was thrust under my nose. My eyes followed the drink to the hand that held it, up its owner's arm and to his face. It was Mason, grinning like a fool.
“Here you are, sa,” he said.
“Oh, you shouldn't have,” I said. I felt embarrassment course through me.
“Yeah, piss off,” spat Elaine. Sh
e lifted her hands and started to weave her fingers.
The air began to crackle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Mason’s hands erupted in flame. He dropped the mug that he was holding out to me and began to scream. He looked at me with mixed hurt and terror. The bar was silent now, but for his cries. He ran to the bar, and the barman tossed a bucket of soapy water over his hands.
I looked back to Elaine. She was laying back on the table now, rolling in laughter, tears forming in her eyes. With one last look at the distraught Mason, I marched out of the pub and into the cold night air. It was way past time to leave.
The rest of my night was spent watching the fireplace in The Library. If the power that Elaine used to harm Mason was the same power I was learning to use, then I had to be more careful. Maybe I should stop completely? I certainly didn't want to turn out like Elaine. Apart from the concern that she clearly had for her sister she seemed so unfeeling.
Would I end up like that?
The flames frolicked among the impossible logs of the fireplace. They were never spent, never needed replenishing, never destroyed by the sweeping flame. Mason wouldn't be so lucky. Right at that moment, he was probably in pain, cradling his hand, wondering desperately when they would heal up. I shuddered to think of it.
The next morning Mom asked me to hang out with Jonny while she ran a few errands. She was always worried that he would get lonely, but he was pretty self-sufficient. I sat with him for a while as he tapped away at some game on his tablet. It would take a lot to tear him away from that little screen.
“You alright there, Jonny?”
He nodded but kept his focus on the game.
“Are you winning?
“Nah.”
“That's a shame.”
“Why?”
“Um, most people like to win.”
Jonny shrugged.
“Hey, I have an idea. How would you like to draw something with your big sister?”
“I’m not good at drawing.”
“I’ll teach you.”
He dropped his tablet and looked at me with his deep eyes. “And then I’ll be able to draw for real?” he said.
“Sure.”
“That’s amazing!” he jumped up from the couch and disappeared out of the living room.
“Where are you going?” I called.
“I got paper and pens in the cupboard,” he said. “I got blue paper and yellow paper, and I’ll bring it to you.”
Before long we were settled at the dinner table, felt tip pens sprawled everywhere. “So what do you want to draw?”
Jonny stuck a pen in his mouth and looked at the ceiling, “um… Maybe a fairy?”
“A fairy? Are you sure? People shapes can be very tricky.”
Jonny smiled. “You will teach me.”
We sat together and scribbled and drew until Mom came home. When she was through the door, Jonny grabbed his fairy and ran towards her. It was a pretty good attempt for a first go.
“What's that you have there?” asked Mom when she had put down her bags.
“It's my fairy,” said Jonny. “Alex showed me. I’m going to make it real.”
Mom gave me an approving smile.
That night I was eager to have another experiment with candles and tea. I was nothing like Elaine, nothing like her at all. There was no way in a million years that I would deliberately hurt someone, let alone laugh about it afterward.
There were still plenty of flowers from my bag to make the tea with. As before, I waited until everyone was asleep before heading downstairs to boil the kettle. Once I returned with my tea I sat with my new candle on the carpeted floor.
After a few strikes, my match lit and I held it to the candle. I hesitated, pulling my hand away. My room was still a mess, and would likely remain a mess for some time. I needed to find a place where I could practice this flame magic without risk of someone walking in on me, or accidentally burning the house down.
I blew out the match, drank my tea, and packed up my bag. I considered setting up in the backyard, but there were just too many houses looking down onto it. Too many possible eyes on me. After a few moments of deliberation, I decided to go to the nearby park. There were a few clearings which were both private enough and open enough for me to sculpt with fire without any inadvertent vandalism.
The night air was cool and damp. I pulled my sweater tight around me. I wondered if my candle could make the flame large enough to keep me warm. I really had no idea what relationship the size of the original flame might have to the size of the things that I could create. Last time I only made a small rose in the candle flame, but that was for safety. I would not have that consideration in the park.
It wasn't long before I found a suitable clearing. I knelt in the damp grass, steadying the candle on the ground. I had not thought to bring anything to sit on so reluctantly I removed my sweater and lay it on the grass. Goosebumps crept up my arm.
It was beautiful there alone with my candle under the stars. Even without the possibility of magic, I wondered why people didn't do this sort of thing more often. Of course, the stars were not as bright as the stars in Elaine's world. Light pollution washed most of them away.
There were not many sounds there in the park, just crickets, and the occasional cry from some shy night bird.
I watched the candle’s tongue of fire wave gently in a breeze for a moment and then began to focus. I knew what I would make first. I had been thinking about it all day. With my hands outstretched towards the flame gently, I molded it, formed it, willed it.
The flame began to change.
Like before it was gradual at first, but I was more confident now. First, her slender arms came into view, then slowly there emerged the rest of her body. Her hair curled downward and waved in an imperceptible breeze. She turned about to face me and let her delicate wings unfold.
I wondered for a moment what Jonny would say if he saw that here in the park was a real fairy. I bid her dance about tiptoe on the candle. She flew, she twirled, she twisted. She danced amongst the flames beneath a starlit sky.
After a time I sent her flying up into the night. Next, I formed a fawn, shy and curious. It sniffed at me. It's soft eyes appraised me. I wanted to reach out and pet it but could tell from the heat that my fingers would burn.
“It's not safe out here,” said of voice.
I swept the fawn away and turned to see Darcy standing in the shadows.
“Darcy?”
“I’m not even going to ask you what you are doing out here.”
“I’m just-”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Right.”
“I wanted to thank you for helping me the other day.”
“It was nothing.”
“For those people it was everything.”
I felt the heat rush into my cheeks. “How are they doing?”
“Fine, I think. Brunhilda was talking about you.”
“Talking?” I tried to imagine her saying more than a few words together.
“Well, she asked if they had left any mud in your library.”
“Oh, no. I don't think so.”
“I’ll pass that on.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, that's all I wanted to say.”
“Thanks.”
Darcy turned to leave. “Oh, one other thing.”
“Yeah?”
“You shouldn't really be messing around with candle magic. That stuff can get you killed.”
“It's not-”
“I know, not candle magic. Just try not to kill yourself.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the darkness. Once he was out of sight I tried to settle back into what I was doing, but it was no good. I didn't know what Darcy had seen, and I didn't know if he was still out there. After a few moments, I packed up my things and went home.
Later that night I lay in bed with wide eyes and a whirring mind. I wanted to sleep, but I could not get the fawn I create
d in the fire out of my head. The effect of its body cast in flame was unlike any art I had seen before. I was determined to share it with the world somehow. But how could I do that without revealing this new secret ability?
It was still early the next morning when I started working on the drawing. I was determined to get this phantom out of my mind and into the world. Soon I was in a trance of lines and curves and textures. Time absorbed me. I was lost in my art, forming what I had formed in flames, trying to capture the essence, its movement, its vitality.
When I finally finished my creation it was well past lunchtime. The fawn gazed out at me with curious eyes, waiting for me to pet it.
I transferred the image to my phone and opened up Instagram. Lilly had provided me with the password to the account that she created. She had also gone to the trouble of following a bunch of people, including my dad. Awkwardness was just around the corner.
I only had the vaguest idea of how Instagram actually worked. I knew it had hashtags or something, but I wouldn’t worry about that. I just wanted it up there, there to be seen.
Soon It was all done. I had finally put a drawing on Instagram. I felt nervous and excited. It made me smile to think that the first picture would not be a dragon. I gazed at my gallery of one with pride.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
With my drawing done I lay back in my bed and let my mind wander. It was probably time to take Lilly to The Library. She was my best friend. If I were to continue spending hours and hours inside of The Library’s collected works, then I would probably need at least one person in my life who understood where I was.
Something had changed within me since I found the book, it was hard to put a finger on what, but I needed to share that something with Lilly. I grabbed my phone and sent her a brief message:
GoT?
Soon she was walking in the front door.
“Hi Mrs. Alex’s Mom,” she said as she took off her shoes, “I’m here to train your introvert.”