Tales of magic: grimoire of transmogrification

  Chapter 49

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  Arc 2 – “The hunter and the beast”

  Chapter 33- “Inquiry”

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  The overly curious mind is plagued with pain and frustration, as he desperately seeks knowledge he doesn’t possess. However, the decidedly ignorant one is not long for this world. Which one is worse? Suffering for wisdom or dying of folly? ~ The philosopher’s work, written by his lady, whose name is as mysterious as the Philosopher’s. Currently, the genius was lying in bed, old and sick. His body was deteriorating and there was no cure. It wasn’t at all understood by the people – did he mean he was suffering for wisdom of was he dying of folly? Either ways, he didn’t die there. 1785, Pridon.

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  2nd April, 1886.

  Weidson, Pridon.

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  Jordan shook his head.

  “...”

  He said nothing as he boldly walked in, hands in his pockets. The customers saw him, and some of them recognised him but they said nothing. He didn’t care, though. He had known them for years, but he wouldn’t call any of them his friends.

  “Jordan.”

  She wasn’t patronising him. Her tone was strict and harsh. He smiled.

  Just like I practiced.

  “Hey. Mom. I’m just going to stop by for a moment. Work, am I right?” He waved at her with a smile, casually.

  He felt like a stranger in his own body. As though he was a puppet moving against his will. He didn’t like that feeling.

  Veronica...

  Though, he wasn’t a puppet. He was in full control of his actions. He was acting.

  “Jordan, stop right there.”

  Jordan kept walking. The customers who couldn’t get a seat- fewer than usual- shuffled out of his way. He headed straight for the counter.

  “Jordan.”

  “Who’s Jordan?”

  Risa took a step back, eyes wide.

  That’s a bit exaggerated. But that’s what I’m going for.

  She shook her head a bit and coughed twice before staring at him sternly and asking a question.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been out with my girl. I... told you I was going over to Topis, right?”

  Almost slipped up just now. Journal, I really can’t handle being a pathological liar. It’s pretty stressful.

  “What are you talking about? You know what? Come inside so we can talk.”

  “Your husband can’t handle the restaurant alone.”

  “We hired Mitchelle.”

  Jordan shrugged and strolled in through the gap at the counter. He glanced to Risa’s right and sure enough, a short girl with brown hair and a missing tooth was standing there. He turned away, following his step mother through the door leading to the house.

  “What are we talking about? If it’s about that thing, then I think we shouldn’t. I mean, that thing is a real problem. But it’s not going away anytime soon.”

  “Jordan, I’m sick of your games. It’s not funny.”

  “It’s not a game and it’s not supposed to be funny. There are lives at stake, mom. And why the heck are you still calling me that?”

  A single bead of sweat dripped down from his brow. The footsteps he heard behind him were familiar. Of course it was his dad.

  “Gone mad, have you?”

  Lloyd was as loud as ever. And thrice as angry.

  “Honey, I have it under control. You don’t have to,”

  He raised one of his hands, and she trailed off. He clenched that hand into a fist and before Jordan could realize what was going on, he felt something worse than a steel pipe bash against his cheek. He( Jordan) instantly fell to the ground, a tear escaping a single eye.

  Keep up the act, dumbass. You can do it. You have to do it.

  Jordan smiled. It wasn’t just acting. He was actually enjoying this. But then he frowned inside suddenly, realising that he shouldn’t be.

  “Hey, why would you do that?”

  “I believe a little thrashing would do you some good.”

  “Who do you think you are?”

  “Your father.”

  “.... at this point, I’m starting to believe you too are going crazy. I mean, look at this guy, mom. He says he’s my dad.”

  Jordan grinned as he picked himself up and silently activated his Quill. The tear vanished from his eye, as it was now used as ink to put a teardrop on his journal.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “My name is Julius. Julius Artwood. I’m the son of James and Marianne Artwood. Mom, confirm it.”

  “Are you crazy? Jordan?”

  “I see. I’m very familiar in stature to this Jordan fellow. Nonetheless, I haven’t seen him or heard of him in my life. Anyways, Marianne Oersted was once married to one Arthur. But after he tragically died, she married someone else. That’s James. You’re not my dad, or my foster dad. So who the heck are you?”.

  Work already. Or else I’m just making a fool of myself.

  Lloyd had had enough. He stomped towards Jordan, with a pained expression on his face.

  “You did this before. Right before you collapsed. Saying nonsense....I know you’re sane. I can tell you’re acting, son. Don’t do it again. Don’t,”

  Finally.

  Lloyd stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. Behind him, Risa’s eyes widened too.

  Risa isn’t her name. Jordan suddenly recalled something; as it turns out her name had always been Marianne.

  Our of the blue, he suddenly brutally slapped himself across the face.

  Snap out of it, dumbass. The spell was meant for them, not you. Don’t lose focus and start setting up the spell diagrams while they’re still frozen. I’ll have to make the complete spell so I could get through quickly without relying on the chant. I don’t want another almost fatal mistake on my hands.

  Jordan glanced at them. The two of the appeared to be frozen stiff, unable to move , simply staring into space. But as he stared, he saw their eyes twitching, their legs shaking and their body slowly vibrating. He looked away.

  It’s completely reversible, Jordan. You didn’t just borrow a fucking curse from that bastard and cursed your immediate family... right?

  What am I writing, Journal? This is inhumane, whether or not they can easily recover from it.

  But why the heck did Lancaster’s choose this illusion? What’s so special about this Marianne and Arthur thing? What’s the story about Arthur being a ‘paladin’? Is it in any way related to Valkyrie and Ashley? Too many questions. Zero answers.

  Well, now it’s almost time to ask.

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  Oliver’s mansion.

  Lancaster took a deep breath and grinned. The magic symbol before him was complex, but also truly visually stunning. The myriad of lines and symbols one could just get lost staring at...

  And that was the plan. William had to get lost in that delicate balance of prearranged curses or else the very foundation of the plan would crumble along with everything built on top of it.

  “Owl. This is the principal circle. We’ll need the junctions and nodes set up to complete the circuit. Around and about the entire town.”

  This is madness, friend. I’ll do it anyways though. You want the watchers to help, It’ll make things faster.

  “No. Let them watch. I want to know everything.”

  Including...the thing?

  “I don’t fancy voyeurism, but feed me every bit of information you can. Necessary information. I leave it up to you to decide what is important and what isn’t.”

  He’s with his brother now. I don’t think he’ll go there anymore. You shouldn’t trust the fae.

  “You know... Normally, I wouldn’t trust you either. But we’re friends so that’s sn exception. Alright then. Do as you’re told.”

  He got up from the mess of chalk, rulers and books he had sprawling around him. Turning to the sofa, he smiled.

  “What is that?” A curious voice questioned from the corner. He shook his head and glanced at the clock. It was still just 3 in the afternoon.

  Veronica rested her back on the wall, staring at him.

  “I take it, he’s asleep?”

  “It just decided to give me some freedom since I am around you. It doesn’t sleep. I thought you knew everything about these things; spirits and monsters and the like.”

  Lancaster frowned.

  “Actually, I don’t. I was introduced into the world of magics and wonders on the 29th of March, 1886. Three days ago, really. Four if you count that day. And my days have been longer than yours; I don’t really sleep that much.”

  “Excited to do magic huh?” Veronica fake smiled. Lancaster shrugged.

  Why is she making the effort? Does she really believe she could be friendly with me after the stunt I pulled?

  “Not really in the way you’re thinking.”

  “How, then?”

  “It’s worse. I’m... almost addicted to it. Obsessed with it. I haven’t been so smitten by something in my entire life. I believe...this is what those romantics mean when they say they’ve fallen in love. This madness is my love.”

  Lancaster simply collapsed unto the sofa, enjoying all of it’s warmth and comfort.

  “Why don’t you just stop this. Let me go. Kill this thing inside me.”

  “You actually had the guts to say that, knowing the kind of torture he’ll put you through the moment you’re out of my - or any body’s - sight. I’m quite proud to have been your friend, Vero.”

  “Why call me that now of all times? And I’m not afraid of some... Okay I am. But, If you could listen to reason it’s worth a shot.”

  “You don’t want to have a normal conversation, knowing that I’m a murderer. I bet your conscience is screaming at you about how you’re negotiating with someone like me.”

  “...”

  She was silent. Her gaze was fixed on the floor. There was an awkward silence for a few moments until Lancaster opened his mouth again.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Then just stop this nonsense, Lancaster! Why the heck are you doing this? For fun? Because it’s your passion, your hobby? That’s a pretty silly reason to kill someone, especially when she saved my life.” The indignation in her voice was quite a lot. She was leaving so much more unsead.

  “The enchantment on that bullet wasn’t lethal. I checked the one on Jordan, so I know. It was a sleeping spell, nothing more. She didn’t save your life, she was simply nice to you when you had a big scare. I’m actually saving your life, but I guess the niceness is nonexistent.”

  Veronica shook her head.

  “I’ve had time to think. And I understand what you did and why. But I can’t understand your murder. The motive was...?”

  “Self-defence, your honour. I plead guilty as charged. Now shut up so I can take a quick nap.”

  Veronica didn’t laugh. She just stared at him with an ugly expression.

  “Are you really Lancaster? The cool senior back at highschool. The guy who beat people up for my sake.”

  “Your.... what’s the word... crush?”

  “That was years ago.”

  He shrugged again, closing his eyes.

  “What do I do?”

  “Pardon?” Lancaster asked, peeling one of his eyes open to see her inched away from his face.

  “What can I do? Come on... give me orders damnit. Tell me how worthless I am, and how I have to do better.”

  “Are you...Never mind. It doesn’t really matter. And truth be told your attitude as of late isn’t proper. You don’t seem to have a plan either. 8f you’re so eager, I want to you investigate something for me and make sure not to screw it up. Take notes, Leech. I give you full authority to do whatever you want with her body if she refuses or runs off. Twelve hours, Veronica. That’s as much time as you’ve got to get this thing done and get back here, alright? Meet with the paladins in the church of tyr and try to uncover as much information as you can.”

  “Alright.” She was crying a bit.

  “Is that really how you respond to me?” He raised his voice.

  “Yes sir!”.She did too.

  “You don’t need my assistance, however a crow would fly not too far away from you and make sure leech keeps his end of the bargain. Remember leech, I want Veronica on this mission, not you. Veronica, if you’ve been up to date with your training you won’t find this too difficult. Leech’s necrotic power is enough to keep you alive long after you die and bring you over the edges and back to the world of the living. The reduced pain and increased strength that comes with being a half wight and half deathwalker is more than enough. Do you hear me, miss?”

  “Yes sir!”

  Lancaster smiled, putting his hands behind his head, and closing his eyes.

  Enough to prove to you I’m still the same. Except it’s a ruse, really. I’ve never felt more foreign. Son of the trash that once called himself a marquis.Murderer. Orphan. Senior and then instructor at a local school out in the outskirts of pridon....

  And now a badass magician that’s batshit insane. But one thing’s constant in all that chaos. I’m still having fun.

  Maybe not with the murderer tag. Or the orphan one.

  Maybe I should look back. Try to understand it, process it. Or say it wasn’t my fault. 'Face the darkness' said the demon...

  Lancaster sighed. He heard the door shutting. Veronica was out. She was probably watching him sleep for a moment before suddenly realising that she had work to do.

  Too bad I’m not Jordan. I’m not in love with her. Love is just far too difficult a feeling for a true demon to possess.

  He smiled horribly, the edges of his lips extending as far as they could go.

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