by T Ariyanna
“And you thought those spells were a waste of time. What good is a stupid toy going to do?” Cy grumbled after a moment. “Let's just go to bed. We can at least agree that's a good use of time, right?”
“Right,” Arion whispered halfheartedly. He let his hand slip from the owl's head and lumbered upstairs. It felt as though there were weights in his shoes, and a clamp around his chest.
Cy had gone to rest by the time Arion had reached his bed, but Arion lay awake, wondering if he did something wrong. “It was in the book. Wasn't it?” he mused aloud.
Rolling onto his side, he swooped Tome from his bedside table. He set his hand aglow with magic, and flipped through the pages. “What was it called?” he whispered. “Tome, anything on bringing things to life?”
Tome's pages fluttered quietly, going back and forth through the book, but soon came to rest on the last page Arion had been reading. Just the old spells Cy had been making him practice, nothing helpful. He closed Tome and set him back on his perch. He pulled himself from the bed, and wandered back to his desk.
“There has to be some way.” He held his head in his hands, racking his brain for any ideas. With nowhere else to turn for inspiration, he pulled open the drawer and took out his prized creation.
It was a small heart, made with gold metal. Small roses bloomed along it, with blue crystals set within the petals. Turning it over, the neat handwriting carved into the metal gave off a faint glow.
“Kaitlyn,” he whispered. “Maybe I am just a weakling. I can barely even talk to you. How am I supposed to do anything?”
He opened the small heart, and picked up the ring he had locked away inside. It was a simple silver band, with a six-pointed star adorning the top. He ran his finger over his mother's initials engraved inside the band.
He returned the ring to its place in the heart, and held it to his chest. He let out a deep breath, and watched as the heart began to glow from the inside. He changed the color from green to blue, to red, magic spilling from the heart like blood.
“Like blood,” he gasped. He looked from the heart to the owl, realization finally hitting him. Setting the heart to the side, he started his work on a heart for the owl. When he finished, it was small, made with the design of wings. He carved a small snowflake into the face of it, to honor the creature’s inspiration. He set the heart on his desk, wide open.
A ball of fire formed in his palm, and he molded it into a perfect sphere. Clasping it tight in his grasp, he made a magic glass casing around the fire. He carefully set the orb in the heart, closed it, and welded it shut. Using scrapes of wires, he fastened the heart into the owl's chest. He closed the door, and created a lock and key for it. He turned the key in the hole, and a resounding click echoed around him.
The owl sprang to life as soon as the key was removed, and it flew circles around Arion until he was dizzy. He held out his arm, and the owl obediently landed. The owl shuffled sideways a moment before settling. It watched him closely with glowing green eyes, its head cocked to the side.
“Wow,” Arion gasped. “It worked. I…I actually did it!” he jumped up from his chair, and the owl took to the air. It cried out, its mechanic voice oddly soothing.
“Shh, shh,” Arion cooed, beckoning the bird down. It came to rest on his outstretched hand, and he set it on the desk. “I need you to be quiet for a while, alright? Just until morning, and I'll wake you back up.”
The owl jerked his head down, his eyes never leaving Arion's. He rested his hand on the side of the owl's head, using his magic to coax the machine into a sort of sleep. Its eyes dimmed slowly and it stopped moving, but a faint glow pulsed in its chest like a heartbeat.
With a smug grin on his face, he returned to bed. Pulling the covers to his cheek, he muttered, “Just wait until Cy wakes up.”
“What, you polish it or something?” Cy groaned. He yawned loudly, and Arion fought against yawning himself. He had to shake his head to wake Cy up that morning, and he knew the demon wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.
Arion pulled the key from his pockets. “I made it work,” he boasted. He turned the key in the lock, and the bird sprung to life once again. It circled around the room once and landed on Arion's shoulder, pressing its cold head to his cheek. Though the touch was a shock, Arion didn't pull away from the affection. He rubbed the owl's head lovingly, and coaxed it onto his arm.
“How?” a stunned Cy asked. An image of Cy's gaping mouth filled his mind, and he laughed.
He touched his finger to the lock on the door and it clicked open, though the bird remained functional. Opening the cage door, he explained, “I made a heart for him, and filled it with my magic.” He touched his finger to the metal heart, and a shot of his magic wound around his finger, racing through the owl's body like blood.
“That easy, huh. So what's this thing for?”
“I thought he could fly around and look for Mom. Plus, the map that Tome has seems a little old, so he can make us a new one.”
“I'm impressed,” Cy said approvingly.
“That I'm so smart and talented?” Arion puffed his chest and squared his shoulders.
“No, that you can think.”
“Hey!” Arion yelled, going into a fit of screams and profanities while Cy laughed. He flailed his arms, and the owl jumped to the desk.
Arion finally settled himself, pouting. “At least it's more productive than what you're doing. Stupid demon.”
He scooped up the bird and left his desk. Walking into what used to be the dining room, he used his magic to open a trapdoor down to a set of stairs to the basement he had created a few weeks prior.
It was a large room, larger than the house, but it was still mostly empty. There were desks pressed against the three walls that didn't have the stairs. A large round table sat in the center. Piles of scrap metal and broken machines filled the corners of the room. Rolls of parchment and fabric of varying sizes lay on the floor.
He set the bird down on one of the desks and grabbed the biggest roll of parchment. He tossed it through the air, unrolling it over the center table. Using his magic, he burnt off a piece to fit the table, and then secured it around the edges.
He went back to the desk, where his owl was waiting diligently. Plucking a quill from his stash and a full inkwell, he moved back to the map. He set the ink well in the center. Holding the quill, he called the owl over. It landed in front of him, staring at the quill with curiosity. He set the quill by the owl's feet and concentrated.
A binding spell was a simple one he had mastered under Cy's scrutiny, though he had never gotten to test its limits. Drawing out a string of magic from between his fingers, he attached one end to the tip of the quill, and tied the other to the owl's ankle. It glowed brightly for a moment, and then faded away completely. Though the string was gone, a band of light still hugged the bird's leg.
The owl began to look around the room with new meaning. As it did, the quill hopped up and scrawled over the parchment, marking down the location of their home with perfect accuracy.
“Well that works. Now just to see what you see. Come here.” Arion moved to another desk, and the owl followed him. Hanging above it was a small round mirror. He pulled it down, ignoring his own reflection. Though he had tried time and time again, he had been unable to change the scars that covered half of his body. He couldn't bear to look at himself, to be reminded of his incident.
Using small pieces of scrap metal, he gave the mirror a frame in the shape of wings, and a handle. He covered the surface with his magic, clouding it. Drawing the owl closer, he used the same magic to cover the owl's eyes. They dimmed, and the owl shook its head wildly, but Arion calmed it.
As it settled, the owl's eyes cleared again. “Go fly around the house, please, then come back.” He climbed on the desk and used his magic to clear a hole in the wall. Dirt spilled in, but the owl darted out without notice.
Arion clutched the mirror anxiously, but only saw himself. He waved his hand over it, thinking
of the owl. The surface shimmered and rippled like water. Once settled, he saw treetops and the roof of the house. He watched as the image dropped suddenly toward the ground. He clutched his stomach at the feeling of falling, and the image pulled back up at the last second. It flew through a hole in the ground, and came to rest at Arion's face. He glanced up and smiled at his owl, which hooted in elation.
“Good job,” Arion said, rubbing the owl's head. He set the mirror down and its image returned to reflection.
“Now, I have a job for you. I want you to fly everywhere. Over the whole land, looking for my Mom, or anything magical, really, and I'll be able to follow you and know where you are. If she's out there, I know you can find her. Go on, now. I'm counting on you!”
The owl jumped into the air and flew around Arion's head once before disappearing through the hole. Arion looked to the table, the quill scribbling hastily.
“I'll miss you,” he sighed.
“You're such a baby. At least you were finally able to do something right,” Cy croaked bitterly.
“Yeah, unlike you, just wasting away in my head,” Arion snapped back.
“You seriously think I'm going to turn down free room and board? You're dumber than I thought.” Cy laughed loudly as Arion made his way upstairs. The day wasn’t even half over, but he was already exhausted from using so much magic. He ate absentmindedly, fighting to keep his eyes open.
With Cy's reluctant help, he made his way to bed. “You did good, kid,” Cy muttered just as he was falling asleep. Arion smiled, but had no time for a retort before he slipped into dreams of flying.
“Are you seriously making more of those things? Why?” Cy groaned.
“The other owl could use some help. It's barely gotten any of the map done. These are just small ones. They won't take any time at all to finish.” Arion finished dusting off the miniature owl he was working on. He had already made two more, but he wasn't sure how many would be enough.
“Stop. Just stop. It's only been a week. You got to give it more of a chance than that, don't you? You're just anxious. I said stop!”
“You're not the boss of me,” Arion grumbled, but he dropped the pieces he was sorting through.
“Look, just hook these ones up, and send them in different direction. See, the first one's going north. How about you send these three east, south, and west? Otherwise, they'll just run into each other, right?”
“Yeah, okay. Fine.”
Arion began hooking the owls up to their own quill, programming them into the mirror. As an afterthought, he gave them names and attached them to their quills.
The first owl, the one that wasn't present, he named Tidus. The second, who had large metal plumes around its face and chest, he named Fletcher. He sent him west to the mountains. The third, the smallest of the bunch with the biggest eyes, he named Commer, and it was sent south to the forests. The last had been the simplest, save for a constellation of stars on its belly. Its name was Orion, after the stars, and was sent east to the marshes and wastelands.
They all left abruptly, and Arion swatted at the quills as they ran across the page. He managed to knock them over a few times, but they righted themselves quickly and hustled to make up for what had been missed.
“Why were you in the box?” Arion whispered to Cy after a moment. He ran his fingers through the feathers on the quills, his head resting on one arm. It wasn't the first time he had asked, but Cy was being more agreeable recently. He couldn't think of a better time to try again.
“What?” Cy asked, caught off guard.
“Why were in the music box?” he asked again.
“Well…um…my last master got mad at me for something. Some trivial matter, like a missing limb of his,” Cy said hastily. “I don't remember the details. It was quite a while ago. Something stupid, though, I'm sure. Well he got mad, and he was very overdramatic, and thought it funny to lock me away. He must have sold the box to humans to hide it. Put a strong anti-magic spell on it, too, so I couldn't weasel my way out. He's lucky he couldn't still be alive, or I'd show him what for.”
Cy's essence in his mind formed into that of his old body, fists up and punching the air.
Arion chuckled reluctantly, but he didn't quite feel it. Finding his way to the secluded parts of his mind, he thought to himself, He really doesn't seem that old, barely older than I am. Is that just how demons are, childish? None of this make any sense, not if he's telling the truth.
“I see,” Arion muttered, no longer playing with the quills. His thoughts had dampened his spirits, and he wanted nothing more than a distraction from his suspicions. Why would he need to lie to me? He argued with himself, though neither side was getting anywhere.
Cy stopped hopping around in his head, a look of confusion on his face. He didn't pry into Arion's thoughts, and let his image slip away from him. “So, how did Mom get a hold of you?” he mused aloud.
There was no answer from Cy.
Chapter 9
“Please tell me you're kidding,” Arion choked, preventing Cy from taking over his body.
“You wanna learn better spells, don't ya? Well, we need better stuff. And the best place is Centric, so let's get going!” Cy was digging at the edges of Arion's mind. They stood in the middle of the front room, Arion frozen in place on his way to the door. Cy had tried to trick him outside, but once he had mentioned his destination, Arion refused to take another step.
Arion shook his head, sending Cy reeling. “Hey!”
“Mom said never to go there. She said they'd kill me!”
“Well, Mom's not here, is she? In fact, if I remember correctly, that's the reason we have to go there in the first place.”
“What if they know I'm part human? What if they attack me? I don't know how to deal with a real fight. I can barely beat the dummy ever since you charmed it to fight back!” he protested.
“Look, I found a tracking spell in that book of yours, but it needs materials we can't get. Griffin feathers, diamond shards, moss from an oasis in the Murk Swamp. And that's just a few things we need. So unless you wanna try to get this stuff yourself, we got to go buy it.”
“What money are we supposed to buy it with, huh? I doubt they're going to just give it to us.”
“You really think I'm that dumb? Look in the bag.”
Arion groaned, but opened their pack. Weighing down the bottom was a bulging sack, gold coins spilling out. “How'd you get all of this?”
“You turn wood into metal, right? Well, demons have their own kind of magic. What's the difference? They won't be able to figure it out, at least. If only humans still accepted gold. No, they have to barter and trade, or use paper currency. We could be living the life, I tell you.”
“When did you even get the time?” Arion was gaping at the amount of gold in the bag, and was struggling not to start a fight with the demon.
“When you're asleep,” he said nonchalantly. He examined his purple smoke nails, biting at them.
“So that's why I've been having those weird dreams? Cyllorian!”
“What? You keep complaining I'm not pulling my weight in this relationship. Well, here ya go. I brought home the bacon, and this is the thanks I get.”
“This is not good. None of this is a good idea, Cy!” Arion tied up the bag and dropped it to the ground. The coins jingled inside, and he cringed.
“You think I'd risk my neck if I didn't think you could handle it? Just come on already! We'll be in and out like we were never even there.”
“I don't know. It still seems too dangerous.”
“Come on, kid. What's the worst that could happen?”
“Death! Death could definitely happen. That's what I'm trying to tell you!” Arion yelled.
In wake of all the arguing, he hadn't realized Cy had gotten him outside. Winter was on the way, and the cold nipped at Arion, despite the sun shining brightly overhead. He ran back towards the house, but Cy halted his legs. He sprawled out onto the ground, spitting dirt from his mouth.<
br />
“What happened to all that confidence you had in your spells? I thought you were so ready to start on the big stuff. I guess I was wrong, then.”
“I…I can do my spells just fine! But they all know better spells!”
“All we got to do is sneak in all shady like, buy some stuff, and we're gone. Piece of cake. I promise.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Think about it. They get all sorts of weird, mysterious people. We just have to be one of them. Think you can handle that?”
“I don't know. I guess.” Arion picked himself from the ground.
Cy used Arion’s arms to pat the dust from his coat, cheering. “That's the spirit. Now let's get moving. I'm already getting hungry.”
“You don't get hungry. I do!”
“Funny how that works, ain't it!” Cy erupted into a chorus of laughter, shaking Arion's body. He shook his head and let out a sigh as he marched on to what he was sure would be his funeral.
After about an hour, Cy was getting impatient. “Come on, kid. Pick up the pace! I'd like to get there sometime this week.”
“I'm the one that has to do all the walking. Now shut up!”
“Hey, what's that up there?” Cy asked, trying to force Arion to look. He refused to humor Cy, watching his feet as he trudged up the path. Arion's nerves were shot from anxiety over being caught, and from Cy's annoying chattering.
“For the last time, I don't want to play one of your stupid road trip games. Whatever those are.” Arion made quotations in the air as he talked. He sulked along with his eyes closed.
“This isn't a game, I swear. Will you just open your eyes and look before. . .watch out!”
Arion tripped over something large, falling to the ground with a thud. He picked himself up and looked back to find a man lying on the ground, his legs stretched across the path. Arion scrambled away before realizing the man didn't see him.
The man was dressed in varying shades of brown, from his dirty, button-up shirt to his baggy pants with holes in the knees. His boots were black, but caked with mud. Bright red hair was sticking out all over his head.