XVIII.

"Vastness of realms brings forth the variegation."

~Alessia of the Forgotten Tribe
the first Battle Witch to unify all Witches under one command

The peculiarity of a stippling flare of power must be done with uttermost care. One can never achieve a fruitful resonance, if not dedicated to the task with an ardent spirit.

A witch never stops in their quest for knowledge, nor do they submit to the intricacies of the transience of changing times.

The ancient book was somewhat interesting. Its pages withered with time, a bit yellowed at the corners, but still in good shape as it laid on her work desk opened somewhere in the middle where she'd just stopped reading.

Nicole pondered the last few sentences, grasping a bit of an understanding of the witches as a society. It was abundantly clear she hadn't had the foggiest about them, and this old tome containing the philosophy of spells and power and magic at least gave her some info on this particular ideology.

Honestly, it amazed her how easily witches found bending elements and energy to their will as if they didn't answer to laws of nature but were 'born of nature'. It was also interesting to read about spells and techniques like the one described a few pages behind where the caster gripped the air (grip with what wasn't really clear to her) and used it to repel anyone and anything standing in their way. To have that kind of a power move under belt would be awesome. An enemy attacking you? Sweep them out of the way. Brilliant!

Maybe expand magic and catch air? No? Nicole let her power build inside her body and then, once she deemed it enough, discharged it all at the same time. It danced around her with certain vibrancy, though she found it tasking to keep a hold on her power spread so loose and didn't even think she could command it to 'grab' the air.

"What are you doing?"

Nicole startled, almost knocking down half of the things strewn on her desk. After righting a cup that still held some coffee, she noticed Xavier watching her with blatant interest. Though, his dark eyes held a confusing note of worry.

"Um, I found some interesting ideas on how to use magic-"

"I can see that," he interrupted, his tone serious for once.

Nicole opened her mouth again to continue but he beat her to it.

"You'll only get hurt by that." He pointed at the brown-covered tome in her hands.

"Why?" Nicole could feel her interrogation mode awakening, her eyes narrowing as she stared Xavier down. A tingle of curiosity grew like a budding plant as she waited for his answer.

"Witches aren't really welcome in Slipihira Astoria." His glare seemed as hard as hers. "You should be careful at least."

"You still haven't told me anything I don't already know," Nicole countered. She couldn't understand why he would be so evasive. She was missing a key piece of information.

A sigh and then, "Nicole..."

"What, Xavier?"

Xavier's glare morphed into one of his borderline annoyed expressions. He pulled a black tie from his hair only to tie it back up, into something a bit higher than the previous low ponytail.

"As I said, witches aren't liked in the Union. It may not be as prominent in the smaller places like Callahan's Morrow but in the big cities...It can get crazy." He paused and stretched to grab his laptop from the desk, turning it on and clicking a bit before he settled it on his tights.

"And...?" Nicole prompted him while he did whatever he was doing.

"Don't be impatient."

Really? 'Don't be impatient,' coming from Xavier. He was a fucking epitome of impatience.

While she was fuming silently, he seemed to find what he was looking for, his loud "Aha!" overpowering the air conditioning's usual swish.

"Here," he said as he turned the screen around.

Nicole brought the chair closer.

It was an article about an attorney asking for a lower sentence for his offendant. She shot him a look because what did this have to do with anything?

"Keep reading," he told her with a roll of his eyes.

She did.

"Are you done," he asked as she was finishing the last line and she nodded in response. He turned the laptop back, typed something, clicked a few times, and turned it back to her. "Now read this."

A police report. About the same thing.

After finishing, only one thing needed to be confirmed. "Why is the sentence so high for mere shoplifting?"

Xavier once more donned a serious expression, tightening his lips in a thin line. "Because no one will bat an eyelash for discriminating against witches. That's why you need to be careful."

***

Today, the summer gave its last dying breath in form of stifling humidity. Soon, maybe even tonight, rain would wash out the heat lurking in the parched ground, air would turn crisp in the morning, and the rising sun would fight a losing battle with hoary clouds.

The cloudy weather used to make his life easier, but with him perfecting the spell to enable him to walk under the scorching sun, Jackal cared about none of it. Maybe a bit about the rain. It was irritating when he got drenched to the bone because he'd forgotten an umbrella.

As he sat under the shade of the old boughs coming from the window, a light breeze caressed his face with a gentle touch, swaying his longish hair in a rhythm only known to mother nature.

He had given quite a scare to Lex once he'd finally decoded the blasted poem, stopping the boy in the middle of the sentence when he'd jumped from his chair and run off like a headless chicken, knocking down half of the furniture on his way to the attic.

Pen...

He could still hear that word reverberating through his head, could still feel shaking anxiousness and invigorating excitement he had felt at that point.

He'd never thought he would be using it again. No. He had hoped he would. He had hoped so much alas it had not been the time. For so long he'd waited, nervously, counting days until his self-imposed restriction would be lifted.

Use it only if it's the last option...

And he would. Only as the last option. This situation required the last option because all the others were uncertain to have the specific outcome.

"Is this thing what made you run like the hounds of hell were on your ass?"

Jackal stopped reminiscing, looked over his shoulder, and almost fell to his ass in a panicky attempt to scramble up from his chair.

"Lex," he said in a careful tone, eying a silver pen perched in Lex's hand carelessly swaying left and right. "Put that down where you found it."

He didn't shout. He didn't scream. He just uttered those words with conviction. For all good it did him.

"Nope." Lex brought the pen closer to his face, turning it around. "I kind of like how shiny it is."

Please not today, Lex. It wouldn't do any good to say what he was thinking because Lex's silver eyes had that glow only things fascinating him managed to bring out. Like shiny things. Lex loved shiny things; glitter, coins, jewelry, you name it. The pen was also shiny.

"Lex, put that pen down."

Of course, the little shit ignored him while smiling down at the freaking pen, turning it in circles and watching how the light fell on its gleaming surface. And that was when Jackal saw it. He saw it and jumped.

Jackal had always been one of the fastest everywhere, while he's been human, and, later on, as a vampire. He'd always been the fastest.

But not today.

His vision changed, slowed down so he could see it clearly while he was in the air just above the desk, when a silverish light seeping from the pen materialized into something akin to claws and sunk into the hand holding it.

A pained hiss was followed by a grimace on Lex's face. Soon it got replaced with an expression of puzzlement.

Oh, fuck no! Jackal clutched the hand now connected to the pen through a grotesque set of silver veins. Not really veins. They just looked like that. It was a set of tubes to transfer magic, or sometimes even steal it. He knew what it did, and he left it sitting there, unprotected, so anyone could touch it.

"Lex, don't move." He watched the magic going back and forth, his heart galloping faster and faster. Fuck no! "What do you feel? Describe it! I need to know!"

Lex's eyes whipped from the pen to him, and he could see the underlying fear lurking there. Lex took a deep breath, closed his eyes like concentrating. "It was trying to overpower me. But it failed. Now, the power - it seems corrupted somehow - hm..." Lex trailed off, and Jackal wanted to shake him, to make him speak so he knew how much the curse had settled.

And then Lex whined. Jackal jumped on the spot, surprised, waiting, ready to help in any way he could.

"Oh, will you shut up!" Lex grumbled then opened his eyes. Silver gaze locked on Jackal, a hard-set expression on Lex's face. "It's chatting up a storm." He sounded annoyed.

"What?"

Lex nodded to the pen. "It's talking a fucking mile a minute. Did you know it talks?"

Oh, heavens... This was bad. Worse. Fuck. The curse was taking, and Jackal couldn't do shit about it.

Lex's head snapped toward the pen. "Oh, shut up already!"

Jackal felt his eyes widening, hoping the rebuke Lex would face wouldn't end up being something horrible. Not even he felt brave enough to speak that way to the pen.

"What?" Lex continued having a conversation with the pen. "You want out? Welp. No fucking way."

Jackal felt like fainting, the worst possible scenario was playing in front of his eyes and he couldn't do anything about it.

"You want me to punish the undead human because he used you without your permission?" Lex asked the pen, staring at it with one eyebrow arched, then looked at Jackal. "You know, you'd been an ass towards them."

What? Wait. Was this assholish curse turning Lex against him? It didn't seem that way. Lex was still acting as Lex, plain and simple.

And, at that moment, a phone rang with a familiar melody signifying it was Jackal's own phone. He was ready to throw it into the wall, but his unchanging curiosity won out, so Jackal checked it up.

It must have been a sign of the impending apocalypse. First, Angel Ripper announced his comeback. Then Lex got almost overtaken by the cursed object for the pen was nothing more than a very powerful weapon if handled with enough care. And then Adrian was calling him.

Yes, it must be a fucking apocalypse. Jackal was sure of it.