by Dan Wingreen
"But you died," Aidan protested. "And you blamed me…"
"And that's how I know it ain't ever comin’ true." Eallair smiled. "I'd never blame you for anything."
Aidan shook his head in frustration. Unless Eallair had gotten good at lying to Aidan in the past few minutes he knew the sorcerer was telling the truth. More than that though, it felt true, like whatever part of his prophecy thing was still left over from his dream was telling him it was true. But then why did everything being his fault in his dream also feel true? How could two opposite things be true? Maybe it had something to do with the strange voice that had come out of Eallair's mouth?
"And what about the Shaman and the boy?" Eallair asked, scattering Aidan's thoughts even more. "They ain't dead."
"They could be," Aidan said. Now that he was out of the dream, thinking about them being dead hurt, but in a detached way. Like he was thinking about a long dead friend instead of people he'd talked to less than a week ago. He didn't know what it meant. If it was something else left over from his dream. "Or…they are. Or…" He sighed. "I don't know. They didn't feel as real as you. Like, I saw them, but I couldn't do anything about them. I…"
The full impact of his dream suddenly hit him. He'd been so focused on Eallair because it felt, in the dream, like he could actually do something about what happened to him before he turned to stone but…what about the two who were already stone? Could they really be dead? He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made it easier to see them the way they were in the dream; cold, lifeless statues lying in their own blood.
"If they didn't feel as real as me, then it's even less likely that it's gonna come true," Eallair said.
"Then it's more likely that it's gonna come true for you?" Aidan snarled, suddenly angry. His emotions kept jumping around and it was frustrating and kept him from thinking and he just couldn't figure it out—
"Maybe none of it'll come true! Or maybe all of it. Or maybe it already has, and it was all just symbolism and metaphor and none of it actually meant anything literal like." Eallair let one of his hands go and lifted Aidan's chin until he was forced to look him in the eyes. "You can't get caught up in your visions. I ain't known too many people in my life who had prophecy, but most of them what did told me that, if nothin’ else. Sometimes you get so caught up in keepin’ what you saw from happening that you end up bein’ the thing what causes it."
Aidan clenched his teeth in frustration. It was too confusing. He didn't want this. What was the fucking point of being able to see things if there was no way to know what to do about them?
"What am I supposed to do then, Lee?" he snapped.
"Don't think about it," Eallair answered calmly. "Don't get so wrapped up in it that you start livin’ in your head. Ain't nothing good ever came from that."
Aidan paused. The way he'd said that was too sad and remorseful.
"Did you know someone who did that?" he asked. "Someone who got 'wrapped up in their head'?"
"Aye," Eallair said after a moment of hesitation. "Remember that wizard I told you about? The one I tried to train?"
It took Aidan a second to remember. "The one who went crazy and killed your best friend?"
Eallair winced and Aidan instantly regretted being so blunt. "Aye, that one. He could see the future, too. Or what he thought were the future. Sometimes he spent days lyin' in his room just…watching. He tried tellin’ me about what he saw, but it never made no sense and one day he just stopped tellin’. Sometimes I wonder how much what he saw had to do with what he eventually became. If what he did was because he was tryin’ to avoid something…or make something come true." He brushed a few wayward strands of Aidan's hair behind one ear. "I don't want that to happen to you."
Aidan felt a chill that had nothing to do with his dream. He didn't like how many similarities there were between him and this other wizard. Especially similarities that might have made the other wizard go crazy. Aidan didn't want to go crazy, but if that wizard's dreams were anything like the ones Aidan had, if they were as confusing and frustrating and made him feel as helpless as Aidan felt, he could see how it could happen.
"Did they hurt?" he asked quietly.
Eallair frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"This other wizard, did he ever tell you if his visions or dreams or whatever-they-are hurt?"
For a long moment, Aidan didn't think Eallair would answer. Then he let out a soft, sad sigh. "Aye," he said. "They hurt."
Aidan nodded, mostly to himself. "Mine do, too."
This time he didn't even try to struggle when Eallair moved so he was sitting against the headboard next to Aidan and pulled him in for a tight, crushing hug. Aidan just wrapped his arms around Eallair and silently vowed that no matter what, he wouldn't let anything happen to him. It didn't matter if his dream was literal or a metaphor, as long as Aidan had breath in his body and magic in his soul, he'd spend both, do anything he could, to make sure nothing like what he'd seen in his dream ever happened.
I wonder if that's how Lee's wizard got started? With a promise to protect someone.
"What was his name?" Aidan asked a few minutes later. "The wizard?"
Eallair let out another soft sigh, his breath gently tousling the hair on top of Aidan's head. "Drey," he said. "We all called him Drey."
Aidan wondered what the name meant, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. It didn't sound like it meant 'evil wizard who liked to murder'. It sounded like any other name. Like he could have been anything, or anybody.
I won't be another Drey. Aidan pushed his face into Eallair's chest. He decided that for right then, he was going to enjoy the feeling of being held by someone who loved him. But I won't let you die, either.
He just hoped he was able to do one without the other.
Chapter 6
Aidan blinked sleepily as he relaxed in Eallair's arms. He didn't know how long they'd been like that, but it was long enough for him to start falling asleep and his neck to get stiff.
"You all right?" Eallair asked quietly. It was the first time either of them had spoken in a long time.
Aidan thought about his answer. Was he all right? Stupid question, what does all right even mean anymore? He made a face. Yeah that wasn't melodramatic at all.
He sighed, knowing exactly what he was doing and hating himself just a little bit for it. He was calm, and he liked being held, and he didn't want to think about anything that would ruin that. Avoidance, however, wasn't going to help anything.
So, was he all right?
"Loaded question," he murmured into Eallair's chest.
He felt Eallair's chuckle more than he heard it. "You seem better."
Aidan shook his head. "No, I'm not. I…I don't want my dreams to be true."
"Just because you have th—"
"I know," he said quickly, cutting Eallair off. "They might not be literal and all that, but they feel real and I can't assume that they're not just to make myself feel better."
Not if there's something I can do to change them.
"I know," Eallair said, almost sadly, as he lightly stroked the back of Aidan's head.
Aidan closed his eyes and pressed into his hand, barely even aware he was doing it. They sat like that for several minutes before Eallair spoke again.
"How long have you had them?" he asked. "The dreams?"
"Nightmares," Aidan corrected softly. "Since my parents gave me to the government when I was a kid. I always thought they were just bad dreams because I was alone and scared of the dark." It was easier to admit his fear now that he knew he had a real reason to be afraid. Or maybe it was just because he didn't have to look at Eallair when he said it.
"So, when exactly did you start havin' them? After they let you out of training school?"
"The first night I was there," Aidan said. He could still remember that dream, like he could remember all of them. That was the first time he'd dreamed about the dark room. The dark room that was probably real… He shuddered. He didn't even w
ant to think about what that might mean. Even if it was just symbolism.
Eallair's hand stilled. "You had a prophecy dream the first night after they took you? The same day you healed your broken arm and burned your house down?" he asked.
"You don't have to say it like that," Aidan grumbled. Eallair pulled back. Aidan frowned. "What—"
"No, you don't get it," Eallair said as he stared at Aidan with, what seemed for all the world, like awe. "You used three different types of magic on the day you got your magic. That's…" He shook his head and let out a disbelieving laugh. "I don't even know how that's possible."
"What do you mean?" Aidan asked hesitantly. He wasn't in the mood for any more revelations about his magic after that last one.
Eallair shook his head. "I don't…" He paused. "When did you say you got your magic again?"
"When I was ten."
"No, I mean, when, exactly? How many days or weeks past your tenth birthday?" His eyes seemed to blaze with a need to know. It scared Aidan, just a bit.
"None," he said, hesitating slightly. "I mean, it was on my tenth birthday."
There was a heartbeat of total stillness, as if the air itself was waiting for a reaction. "Bloody hell," Eallair said under his breath. Then, much louder: "Bloody fucking hell!"
Aidan flinched as Eallair sprang off the bed, vibrating with…excitement?
"I'm such a bloody idiot!" he said as he started pacing. "I never even asked!" He stopped pacing almost as soon as he'd started and spun towards Aidan with a laugh. "You're bloody magnificent you are."
Before Aidan could ask what in the hells he was talking about, Eallair ran over and swooped in for a hard kiss. He pulled back, leaving Aidan blinking in confusion.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" he asked.
"Ten!" he said with a grin, like that explained anything.
"I don't get it."
"You got your magic when you were ten!"
Aidan let out a frustrated breath. "Just saying it again isn't gonna make me suddenly understand what you're talking about," he snapped.
"Ten!" he cried again. He must have seen the dark scowl starting to form on Aidan's face though, because this time he quickly added, "It's like the naming thing I told you about, remember? How a name given with some kind of real emotion can help shape a person's life? Numbers can be like that too. Not all of 'em, and only in certain situations, but the right number at the right time wrapped all up in magic and coincidence can be a powerful thing. And ten is the most powerful of them all."
Aidan shook his head, half in doubt and half in denial. I don't want any more mystical crap having anything to do with me. "Are you just making this up?"
"No!" Eallair said, looking affronted. He sat down on the bed and faced Aidan. "Look, every single civilization that's lasted till today or that was ever powerful has had a numbering system based off of ten. The Romans were pushed out of Britannia on the tenth battle of the tenth year of the war with Arthur; Siberia was completely thawed durin' an explosion of super powerful magic on the tenth day of the Battle of the Ten Thousand in the Rusev Wars; it takes ten hours for raw magic to be processed into something useable; and after a whole day of bloody fighting, Arthur and Mordred ran each other through on the exact tenth hour of their battle. Ten is always there, at the most important moments in history and weaved throughout almost every impossible thing that ever happened. And it was there when you first used your magic."
Aidan felt himself slump. He hated when Eallair used that tone. It almost always meant he was right. "So, what does that mean for me?" he asked, resignation and dread laced through his voice.
"It means," Eallair said, a crooked grin tugging at his lips, "that you can do anything."
Aidan blinked. "What?"
"You can do any—"
"You're doing it again," Aidan grumbled.
Eallair rolled his eyes, but thankfully went on with an explanation that was actually useful. "Everyone's got one bit of magic they're naturally good with, yeah? Fire, healing, shields, whatever. I thought yours would be fire since that's what your magic seemed to wanna do all on its own, but you healed yourself and had a prophecy dream in the same day too. All without trying. And I'd be willin' to bet that you'd have been able to do a whole lot more. In fact, I know it. Add the fact you got your magic right on your tenth birthday, down to the very minute I’m willin’ to bet, and you, Aidan Collins, can literally do anything with magic that anyone's ever been able to do. Even the near impossible stuff."
Aidan's stomach sank. This was definitely not what he wanted to hear. "People have done a lot of bad things with magic…"
"But that don't mean you have to," he said, not unkindly. "You're a good person, and it's why I'm bloody excited and not even a bit worried. You're the answer to all our problems."
Aidan was shaking his head almost before Eallair was done speaking. "No. No, don't. You can't just put all that on me! Even if I can do all this, I have no idea how to do any of it! I'm not gonna just—"
He was cut off by Eallair pressing his fingers to his lips. "You ain't gettin' it," Eallair said with patient amusement. "I ain't expectin’ you to snap your fingers and make everything better. Not even you could come close to doin’ that, even if you could use your magic perfect like. Remember, you can only do what’s possible."
"Theh wha' do you espec'?" Aidan asked, his words muffled by Eallair's fingers.
Instead of answering the question, Eallair asked, "What do we need?" Aidan stared at him, not really understanding the question. Eallair let out a tiny huff. "What are we needing to do?"
"Fin' Ar—"Aidan pushed the sorcerer’s fingers away with a scowl. "Find Arthur."
Eallair shook his head. "No, we already found him. We know right where he is, we just have to go pick him up. But what else do we need?"
"I…" Aidan tried to think, even though all he wanted to do was slap Eallair for not just telling him. "I don't know. To fight the govern—"
"Simpler than that."
"I don't know!" Aidan yelled.
"Excalibur," Eallair said simply.
Aidan stared at him. "I-I can't just…magic up Excalibur!"
"Of course you can't magic it up," Eallair said in a way that suggested it was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard and Aidan was an idiot for even thinking it. Or maybe Aidan was just reading too much into it. "But you can find it."
Aidan blinked. "How…?"
"Divination of course!"
Oh. Well. Of course.
Divination was, as the name implied, the art of finding things through magic. He couldn't even remember where he'd read about it, but he knew it was rare, even more rare than prophecy, and even for people who could do it, it wasn't exactly easy. But if Eallair was right, Aidan could do anything with magic. Among all the other things he could suddenly apparently do—some of which he didn't even want to think about—he should be able to divine the location of Excalibur, too.
"Oh."
Eallair grinned. "Are we excited yet?"
"Um. No?"
"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed. "We're not just findin’ Arthur so we can take his body with us so no one can move it while we're trying to find Excalibur. We can wake him up, right away almost! How is that not the most exciting thing ever?"
Well. When he put it like that it actually was kind of exciting. Except for one thing.
"Don't we need a piece of the thing we're looking for?"
Eallair looked at him like he'd just tracked animal shit all over his new carpet. "Where'd you read that bollocks?"
Aidan scowled to cover up his embarrassment. "Sorry we can't all be walking magic encyclopedias."
Stupid knowledgeable sorcerer.
Still, even with the embarrassment, Aidan couldn't help getting a bit excited. There had been so much other stuff to deal with, he hadn't really given much thought to the fact that they'd need to go on a long search for Arthur's sword before they could wake him up. He'd expected whatever Eallair was going to tell h
im about his magic this time would be even worse than being prophetic. He never expected it to be…useful.
"So, we can just do this whenever?" he asked.
"Ha!" Eallair crowed. "I knew you'd be excited about it!"
"Shut up," he snapped. Eallair laughed and ruffled Aidan's hair. Aidan shoved his hand away and scowled as he tried to straighten it out. "What?" he asked when he saw the way Eallair was looking at him.
"Nothing," he said, smirking. "You're just really cute when you're about to do rare and almost impossible magic to find a rare and almost impossible sword to wake up the greatest man who ever lived, is all."
Aidan rolled his eyes, but the effect was kind of killed by the slight flush and the small smile he couldn't hide at being called cute. "Whatever." He glanced around. "So, how do we do this, anyway?"
Eallair grinned. "We need to get you in bed."
The smile twisted into a scowl. "Stop it!"
"What?" Eallair protested innocently. Or it would have been innocent if he wasn't fighting not to laugh.
"I'm being serious," Aidan said, ignoring the part of him that didn't exactly object to what the sorcerer was suggesting.
"So am I!" Eallair protested again, more successfully this time.
"No, you're not. You're just being perverted again!"
"Perverted he says!" Eallair shook his head and muttered, almost under his breath, "It's bloody perverted to wanna have a little fun with the person you love now? In some cultures, havin' a go at each other is just a way of saying 'hello'."
Aidan's breath caught in his throat. "What?" he squeaked, kind of horrified at the idea.
Eallair sighed. "Never mind. I keep forgetting you're all repressed over here. Sorry for mentioning it. Truly."
"I'm not repressed!" Now it was Aidan's turn to protest. He wasn't repressed and it wasn't like the idea repulsed him or anything. Just the opposite, sometimes. "It's just…I'm…" He looked away. "I don't want you to see me," he finished quietly.