by Dan Wingreen
"Why don't you like it anymore?"
"Too bright. Too sunny," Aidan said with a shrug. He held up a pale hand. "I burn up in the sun ridiculously easy and there's no one around to heal me anymore. Nothing says 'I'm a wizard!' like walking around a beach bright red with your skin peeling off. It's not really worth the looks and the way families pull their kids away from you, like you're gonna burn them up, too."
For a second, Eallair looked like he was going to say something. He opened his mouth, but closed it again and glanced away before anything could come out. When he looked back at Aidan a moment later, he said, "So, how did your da save your life? Did you get pulled under by a wave?"
Aidan found himself intensely curious about what Eallair was about to say, but he pushed it away. Whatever it was, he'd obviously changed his mind. "No, I'll have you know I'm actually an excellent swimmer." Aidan grinned. "Or at least I was. I'm not really sure if I still am now, but at one time waves trembled in fear at my amazing skill."
"I'm sure they did." Eallair chuckled. "So, what happened, then?"
"On our third or fourth day there, me and my dad rented a boat."
"Did it sink?"
"Do you want me to tell the story or not?"
Eallair grinned. "Proceed." He swept his hand in front of him in a "go on" gesture.
Aidan rolled his eyes. "We rented a boat. It didn't sink. But it did take us out to an island a mile or so off the shore. We anchored the boat and swam over to it to explore. There wasn't anyone else there but us." Aidan smiled. "I ran ahead of my dad, pretending I was Arthur exploring Avalon for the first time, imagining elves and questing beasts behind every tree. It was fun, until I got a bit too far ahead of my dad. I'd managed to climb up this huge mountain—well, huge to me as a kid anyway. It was actually more like a hill. There was a pretty steep drop off the back end though. I made it almost all the way to the top when I stepped on what must have been an entrance to a yellow jacket nest because the next thing I knew there were hundreds of them pouring up from the ground." He shuddered slightly at the memory. "I freaked out and ran away, screaming for my dad, but he didn't answer. I was so scared I didn't even realize I was running right off the edge of the drop. It would have been probably about fifty feet straight down onto some rocks."
Eallair winced. "I'm guessing he got to you before that happened?"
"Actually, no. I ran right off the edge and started to fall. I had just enough time to realize I was about to die before I suddenly stopped and just hovered there in the air. I was crying so hard as my dad pulled me back up with his magic. I thought he was gonna yell at me for being an idiot, but all he did was hug me, practically crushed me, actually. After I calmed down enough, I told him what happened, and he laughed. I was pissed." Aidan chuckled. "I remember hitting him and telling him he would have done the same thing if he got attacked by a million bees, but then he ruffled my hair and said 'No, Aidan. This is what I would have done' and he snapped his fingers. A see-through blue ball floated over his shoulder, and inside were all the yellow jackets, buzzing around angrily. 'See Aidan?' he said, 'There's nothing to be afraid of, they're just bees. When you get your magic, you'll never have to be scared of them again. You can even make them do whatever you want.' And then he snapped his fingers again and the big ball split apart into hundreds of tiny little balls, each one with a single bee in it. He made them dance and zip around the air and form shapes until I was laughing and shouting out things for him to make them do. And that's what we did all day. Played with the bees until I couldn't even remember why they'd been so scary in the first place."
"That sounds like a good day," Eallair said with a smile. "Your da must have been pretty powerful to keep that kinda magic up all day though."
Aidan shrugged. "I never really thought about it. But, yeah, maybe. My mom was always better at magic though."
Eallair whistled. "Two powerful parents. I can't imagine the potential you inherited."
Aidan looked away. "I guess. Not that it matters."
"Aye," Eallair said softly after a small pause.
There was a short silence, and then he asked, "So, what happened? I don't mean to bring up bad memories, but from what you told me, your parents don't seem the type to abandon their child to the government just for being a wizard."
Aidan felt the old, familiar pain in his chest. Instead of changing the subject or brushing the question off, though, he found he actually wanted to tell him. "I…I don't think they ever thought about it, you know? They always just seemed so sure that I'd never be a wizard. A lot of parents don't think it could ever happen to their kids and when it does, they don't know how to deal with it. It's…it's not really their fault."
But it still hurt.
"Do you really believe that?" Eallair asked gently.
"Yes. No." Aidan sighed. "I don't know." He ran his fingers through his hair, most likely making a mess of it but not really caring.
"I know I scared my parents though," he added softly. Before Eallair could say anything else, Aidan pushed on.
"I was playing in the basement when it started. I had no idea what was going on, I just felt this…heat, in my chest. Like someone had started a fire inside me, but it didn't hurt, it was just…warm. I thought I was getting sick, so I tried to call for my mom to come and heal me, but when I opened my mouth all that came out was a thick, black smoke. I'd never been that scared in my life. I got up and ran to the stairs, trying to scream, but all that came out was more and more smoke until I couldn't even see where I was going. I tripped and fell on my arm, I heard it snap, and that hurt. But almost as soon as the pain started it went away, and when I looked at my arm, the bone was sliding back into my skin and the horrible, wrong angle was straightening itself out; and then it was fine. I had just enough time to realize that I'd healed myself with magic before I exploded."
He swallowed heavily as the memory overtook him.
"I could see everything around me—the toys, the fire sink, the old furniture my parents stored down there—burn to a blackened crisp as the fire spread out, like a big, hollow ball of flame with me in the center. I had no idea what was going on, it just felt like the fire in my chest was being pulled out of me, but that was all the heat I could feel. Even when my clothes burned off my body all I felt was scratchy, burned fabric. I had no idea that first manifestations never hurt you back then, and I kept expecting to feel my skin start melting off any second. I was so scared. I ran up the stairs, screaming for my parents and this time I could scream, but when I got up there the rest of the house was on fire too. It was burning more normally though, not instantly like the basement, and my parents were in the middle of it casting spell after spell, trying to put it out. But they couldn't. I ran to them, crying, and I'm not even sure what happened after that. All I remember is looking up from where I had my head buried in my dad's shoulder and seeing that we were outside watching our house burn. We didn't have many neighbors, but they all came pouring out of their houses to try and help, but none of them could put it out. I remember my mom crying and my dad putting me down and refusing to pick me up when I tried to climb back in his arms. I remember hearing people say things like 'wizard' and 'wild magic' and 'could have killed his family', but my parents never said another word to me. Not even as the DMS agents that someone must have called were pulling me away."
He blinked, but was surprised to find that there weren't any tears in his eyes. Usually just thinking about that day was enough to get at least a few flowing but talking about it now was strangely comforting. Or maybe it was just who he was talking about it to. "It's been sixteen years, and I haven't seen them since then."
"I'm sorry," Eallair said.
Aidan smiled sadly. "It's okay. Really. I've gotten over it. Mostly."
"You never really get over losin’ people you care about," he said. "I think especially when it's them what leave you behind."
Aidan shrugged. "I know, but I think I've earned the right to lie about it."
; Eallair laughed softly. "Maybe you have at that."
They shared a small smile.
"If nothing else, at least you're aging well," Eallair said a moment later.
Aidan couldn't help laughing. Of course Eallair would pick up on that. Aidan wasn't even sure why he wasn't surprised, but he wasn't. "I'm twenty-six."
"You're that young?" His eyes widened as Aidan watched him do the math in his head. "That means you came into your magic when you were ten?"
Impressed, jealous, or disbelieving. Those were the three reactions people usually had on finding out when Aidan manifested. He was inordinately pleased that Eallair fell under impressed. "Yep."
"That's…wow. That's unheard of. I mean truly. I've been over half the world and I've never heard of anyone coming into it that young." He whistled softly. "You really do live up to your name."
Aidan cocked his head. He'd said something like that once before too, hadn't he? "What do you mean?"
Eallair let out a short laugh. "Your name, Aidan; it's Gaelic. It means 'little fire'. And it fits you perfectly."
He remembered Eallair calling him that before, too. It confused him at the time, but he was just translating his name? He scowled. "So, it fits me because I burned my house down?" He'd never disliked his name until right then.
"No." Eallair shook his head. "It has nothing to do with that. It fits you because you burn bright in the night of the world. Your temper is quick, but it doesn't consume you. You stand up for what you believe in, even against someone bigger and more powerful than you. You focus on the things you can fix, like your Wizards Anonymous kids, instead of worryin’ about the bigger things you got no control over." His eyes settled on Aidan's like he could see right into the center of him, through his broken magic, to the essence of who he was, buried deep inside. "You're little, but sometimes I swear you could burn me up just looking at me."
Aidan's breath caught in his throat. "O-oh," he said.
The way Eallair was looking at him…he'd never had anyone look at him that way before. He didn't know what it meant, but it warmed him in places he didn't even know were cold. I'm not the only one that can burn someone with a look. Aidan flushed horribly and looked away. At least I didn't say that out loud.
"Heh, well." Aidan coughed. "Guess it's lucky I'm named that, then."
As far as jokes went, it was barely even. But it was all Aidan could manage to turn the conversation away from words and looks that probably didn't mean what Aidan found himself wishing they did.
"It's not luck," Eallair said after a few tense, silent moments. "Names have power. Your name is the first thing that's given to you when you're born that's truly your own. There's magic in a name; it calls to the magic in the world and sets you on the path you'll be on for the rest of your life. A name given in deep emotion, in love or sorrow; a true name? It has the power to shape a person into who they'll be forever."
Aidan cleared his throat. "So…you believe in fate, now?" he asked. "What happened to all that stuff about choice and people being free to decide their own lives?"
"It's not fate, as such," Eallair said. "A true name doesn't make your choices for you, it just puts you on a road and, like any road, it's filled with paths and turns and shortcuts that take you in different directions, sometimes even doubling back ‘round on themselves. But you still have to choose which paths to take, and that's why choice is so precious. Most of us only have a few. We navigate the road best as we can, but each fork is a chance to live up to our names and the potential we've had since we was born. That's why it's a crime to take that choice away. It's why so many people barely live, even though they're technically alive."
Aidan wasn't sure he liked the idea his name could have even that much of an impact on how his life turned out, no matter how far-fetched it sounded, He spared a brief moment worrying at what Eallair was saying, like he might at a loose tooth, but the simple fact of the matter was that it felt right. Deep in his chest where he burned the hottest, he somehow knew Eallair was telling the Truth. Capital T.
"So, what if I was named something like 'Psycho Murderer'? Is that would I'd be? Because that doesn't sound like a path; that sounds like another way of being forced to be something," Aidan said.
Eallair laughed. "I thought you didn't mind being told what to do with your life?"
Aidan let out a small, annoyed sigh. "I might have changed my mind about that recently," he admitted. "If you can't trust someone to make the right choices for themselves, how can you trust them to make the right ones for you?"
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Eallair said with a grin. "But to answer your question, no, even if there was someone out there that would name their child Psycho Murderer, with the right amount of meanin’ behind it, wouldn't mean that's what they'd turn out being. They'd still have to make the choice to walk down that path. It'd just be a bit easier to find for them than for most."
Well, that was a relief, at least.
"And what about you?" Aidan found himself asking. "What does your name mean, besides 'impossible to pronounce'?"
"It ain't that hard. You've just got an atrocious accent." Eallair smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before adding, "And…I've already failed livin' up to my name."
"Oh…" Aidan said softly. The way he said it was almost enough to break Aidan's heart. "Sorry."
Eallair let out a breath. "We seem to be saying that a lot to each other tonight."
"Aye," Aidan agreed. Eallair laughed. "I mean…shut up."
He just laughed harder. "Well, maybe we'll be fixing your accent sooner than I thought."
Aidan crossed his arms and scowled. Which of course did nothing to get Eallair to stop laughing at him.
Stupid sorcerer.
"Speakin’ of choices," Eallair said, quickly sobering a few moments later. "Have…you thought about yours, yet?"
Aidan blinked, his scowl slipping away. "Huh?"
"I mean, you don't have to come with me. I'm not…I don't wanna force you, or nothing."
"It's not like I have much of a choice." And now you're acting like you don't want to go, when a little while ago you were practically in tears at the thought of being left behind. Way to send mixed messages.
"There's always a choice," Eallair said.
"Except right now. Even if I wasn't on the run, or whatever, I still don't have a Wizard's License. There's no place else for me to go." Aidan forced himself not to look away. "But…even if there was, I'd still rather stay with you."
Eallair smiled slowly. "Good."
"Good." Aidan nodded. He chewed his thumbnail, then winced when he bit a piece of it off. Well that's disgusting. He really needed a pen cap, or something. "Um, so what exactly is the plan, here? Since I'm coming with you and all, I think I should know the plan. And, for Merlin's sake, please tell me there's more of a plan than, 'destroy the government somehow'." He frowned thoughtfully. This seemed like as good a time as any to bring it up. "And, is that even really necessary? Can't we just, I dunno, do something else? Something that would be less, you know, declaring war against an entire country? Maybe just wake up Arthur and have him get rid of the people running things, or something?"
"Whoa there, little fire," Eallair said, holding up his hands.
"Maybe don't sound like you're talking to a horse when you say my name," Aidan said, narrowing his eyes slightly. "And actually use my name."
That got him a quick smile. "All right then. Aidan. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but trust me, there ain't no other way. You can't build on top of rot. If we really want somethin’ new, somethin’ where people can choose their own lives and live the way they want, we have to start from scratch." Now it was Eallair's turn to frown. "That is what you're wanting, right? Just occurred to me that I never really asked, and we should probably be on the same page and all."
Aidan took a deep breath. He was standing at a fork in that path Eallair had spoken of, and whatever he said next would send him down a road there was no comi
ng back from. To Aidan’s surprise, his first real choice was far easier to make than he would have thought.
"Yeah, that's what I want." He hesitated. "And, that includes wizards not being taken away from their families, right?"
Oh, how weird it was talking about treason and rebellion the same way he'd ask about an item on the menu at a restaurant.
"Aye, of course."
"Good." Aidan nodded again. "Then—" The rest of what he was going to say was cut off with a huge, jaw cracking yawn.
"I think," Eallair said with a hint of amusement in his voice, "that we should probably talk about specifics and such in the mornin’."
"But—"
"You're exhausted. And we're still being hunted. I'd like to spend as little time as possible this close to the city. I'd leave tonight if I wasn't as empty as I am."
Aidan wanted to protest more; now that he'd committed to helping Eallair he wanted to know every detail of what he was in for, but it wasn't fair. He might be rested enough to stay up longer, but it had only been a few hours since Eallair was all but passed out in his arms. He deserved his sleep.
"All right," he said. "Just, promise me that you have a plan, okay?"
Eallair grinned, somewhat tiredly. "I've got a plan."
Aidan wasn't sure he trusted the grin, but he nodded anyway. "Okay. I guess I'll…see you tomorrow, then."
A wave of awkwardness suddenly came over Aidan. He'd never actually slept in the same room with anybody before. Even during his days in the dorms at the DMS wizard's training facility, he had a room to himself. It was very strange and not a little bit uncomfortable getting ready for bed with someone else a few feet away, especially when Eallair took his shirt and jeans off. Even though he had a pair of underwear on, Aidan didn't think his face would ever cool down. He stared at the wall as he quickly took off his sweater, leaving his button-up shirt on. He kept the jeans on too, even though it would be uncomfortable to sleep in them. No way was he going to get undressed in front of someone else. He'd need about ten years to work up to that.