Chapter Text
The full moon hung heavy in the sky, stained a rich shade of crimson.
“Professor, isn’t it beautiful?” The child laughed, capering around the courtyard. The moonlight drew an answering glow from pale flowers that had been allowed to grow freely, making the garden seem more like a small field of white blooms.
“It certainly is,” the child’s teacher and guardian agreed. He spoke with the same easy, casual tone he always used with the boy. He was seated at the edge of the courtyard, on the stone steps leading down from the porch. “Say, Noe, do you know why the moon turns red sometimes?”
“I read in a book that it happens when there’s a lunar eclipse,” he glanced over his shoulder at his teacher. The man patted the step beside himself, gesturing Noe over. The child eagerly trotted over, taking a seat beside his guardian. He wanted to gaze at the moon all night long.
“Did you know that you were born under a moon just like this one?”
Noe nodded shyly, “That’s why I’m…” he sighed, “The way I am.”
“Well,” his teacher said gently, “you are the way you are because you were born a wizard. Anyone can study the world formulas, but few can master them the way we can.” He lifted the child onto his lap. They sat in silence for a moment, both gazing up at the night sky. The moon was so bright tonight that its light drowned out the stars close to it, casting shadows against the whisps of cloud drifting past. But the sky was still clear enough for Noe to see the constellations that his teacher had shown him.
“Some say the moon turns red when a powerful wizard casts a curse.”
Noe craned his neck to blink owlishly up at his teacher, “Is that what happened to me?”
“Not exactly…your circumstances are very special Noe, that’s why you must drink once a month.”
“…Does that mean I’m a demon?”
“No, Noe,” the professor said affectionately, “You’re still you, aren’t you?”
Noe scrunched up his face in an adorable frown, “Of course but what does that mean—?”
“There are other wizards who drink as you do…” The Professor’s voice dropped into a low, urgent tone, “but you must never tell anyone about your curse.”
“I remember, Professor, I promise I won’t.”
“And you must only drink from Louis or Domi.”
“I know, Professor,” The child sighed, rolling his eyes. He only needed to drink blood once a month and if he did, he had no cravings for it. But that didn’t make him feel any better about the necessity of it. Noe pouted, “why can’t I ever drink from you anymore? Why do I have to wait for Domi or Louis to visit?”
“Well…you’re growing up, and I can’t have you reading my memories,” the Professor teased, leaning over Noe to tickle his ribs, “Why, if you knew everything about me, how would my star pupil still respect me?”
His teacher hit a tender spot near his armpit, and Noe squealed and burst into a peel of laughter, “Professor stop it!” And the man obeyed with a chuckle. As the child caught his breath, he giggled, “but I thought I could only do that because Domi and Louis are kids,” he blinked curiously up at his guardian, “could I really read your memories too?”
“You might not be able to navigate them yet, but you will always see memories in the blood,” His teacher’s voice dropped low, “That is your gift Noe, for the mind and memories. Even without that curse, you can…” an odd smile flitted across the man’s face, “I can’t wait to see what you’ll be capable of.”
The child lowered his head, smiling shyly at the praise. He couldn’t help thinking back to the first time he’d tasted Domi’s blood. Noe’s smile faded. “Professor,” he ventured, “Do you know—is there a way to break my curse?”
“There might be…there is a book,” He chuckled under his breath, “well, a device in the shape of a book with a blue leather cover and jet-black pages, a clockwork grimoire linked to a silver chain…it is called the Book of Vanitas. It belongs to the Wizard of the Blue Moon…he might be able to break your curse.”
The soft jingle of a bell and the click of a door opening startled Noe awake. He’d fallen asleep at the counter again, face down into a book. He snapped upright, tugging at his waist coat and setting his shoulders—he just prayed that the customer had somehow not noticed him napping on the job. When he recognized the figure, he gasped in relief, “Miss Amelia!”
She giggled, “Honestly, Noe, were you up all night reading again?” She shrugged off her coat, hanging it on an old, stately coatrack near the front door. It was still early in the fall, but September had started off unseasonably chilly.
“We finally got S. R. Meyer’s new book in stock,” he admitted. Noe smooth back his hair. But he knew by feel that it was hopelessly ruffled. A very unhappy looking, very fluffy white cat was sitting on the counter beside him. His breath hitched and Noe reached over to pet the animal, apologizing as he did, “I’m sorry, Murr, I slept through your afternoon snack, didn’t I?”
The cat made a sound suspiciously close to, ‘humph.’
Per usual, Noe cocked his head at the cat, wondering if Murr was a particularly intelligent cat or if he was a particularly imperceptive man—but he’d always thought that cat was unusually aware.
When Amelia joined them at the counter, Murr trotted over to her waiting hand. She grinned at the familiar routine. The cat was purring before her hand even touched his fluffy cheeks. Murr shot Noe a glance around the woman’s arm, odd colored eyes telegraphing how displeased he was with his owner. Technically Murr was the professor’s cat. But, according to his teacher, Murr didn’t like to travel and besides, ‘every bookshop needs a cat.’ Noe rolled his eyes at the animal and Murr fixed his attention on Amelia, dismissing his human.
“Thank you again, miss Amelia, I can’t tell you how much you appreciate it!”
“It’s no worry,” she flashed him a bright smile, “I really don’t mind, you almost never take time off.”
It was true. He spent most of his time in the shop. It was a wonderful place, though, high ceilinged and stacked to the brim with books.
The bookstore was spacious enough to have a small mezzanine studded with shelves built into the walls and lovingly filled with books. They were lucky enough to have a corner building in their small town, so sunlight streamed in through windows on all three exposed walls. There was a wide, rectangular window high on the wall behind the counter. Another stretched across the length of the mezzanine. Two large bay windows flanked the front door, letting sunlight fill the store. The whole place was paneled with wood the same shade as honey, with large, old bookshelves artfully arranged throughout the space. The shop had that wonderful and indescribable scent of old books. Noe always found something warm and comforting about that smell.
Noe lived above the shop. He’d been six when he was adopted, his life before the Professor just a vague blur. They had lived here together until Noe was seventeen, then the Professor had resumed his travels—stopping by every few months to check up on his ‘star pupil.’
“I’ll be back to lock up,” he called over his shoulder, giving Amelia a smile and a wave. Noe grabbed his hat from the coatrack, he always felt under dressed if he left the shop without it. He slipped into his jacket as he strode out the door.
The town seemed simultaneously very quiet and unusually busy. The streets were bustling with motor cars speeding off in every direction. And that was certainly out of the ordinary. While a few residents owned cars, the town was small enough that one didn’t need a car to get around. The whole place was very quaint, cobblestone streets and old buildings with brick or stone facades. Noe didn’t think much on the traffic, Domi was waiting for him after all. He headed towards her favorite café—the town only had a few, and Domi always insisted that this one had the superior deserts. Maybe Noe didn’t have the best palate, he’d been to all of them and found every desert on the menu enticing.
Then he looked up and noticed hot air balloons in the sky, dozens of them hanging low in the air just above the town.
Noe blinked up at the colorful balloons dotting the sky. They were beautiful, each vibrantly colored with different embellishments and designs. Had the air show been today? Maybe he and Domi could go. She didn’t get many days off from her family, maybe she’d enjoy something quaint. The town was surrounded by bright, grassy fields on three sides, on the other it was bordered by a long stretch of much rockier land, sloping gently into the horizon. His gaze drifted from the balloons to that horizon. The waste was beyond that hill—full of witches and wizards like himself. Although he had to admit, he wasn’t a particularly adept wizard.
He heard something honk and startled. Noe’s eyes jerked back to the sidewalk, and he realized that he’d stepped off it. He was in the street. A motor car was racing towards him—it was too close. Everything slowed down as his heart stuttered, Noe realized that he didn’t have enough time.
Then something yanked him back. He was pulled back towards the sidewalk by an arm around his chest and a firm grip on his bicep. Noe’s hat went flying. The car sped past, inches from the tips of Noe’s shoes.
As it passed, he glanced over his shoulder at his rescuer.
A strikingly pretty young man was looking back at him, mouth just a few inches from Noe’s as he murmured, “Are you alright?”
Noe’s eyes blew wide and he felt a flush racing up his neck. He opened his mouth to respond, but his mind went utterly blank. Noe had never seen anyone who looked so…he didn’t even have a word for it, all he knew was that he wanted to keep looking.
The young man had long dark hair, pulled into a low ponytail over one shoulder. It was cut very distinctly, choppy bangs framing his face and drawing the eye to his high cheekbones and exquisite jawline. And then all Noe could focus on were the stranger’s eyes. He was smiling at Noe, and his gaze was just piercing, eyes a strikingly bright shade of blue. He wore a single earring on his left ear, an hourglass with a blue gem that dangled from it like a teardrop. The jewel matched his eyes, drawing Noe’s attention back to the stranger’s gaze…to the kind, intrigued look in his eyes—like there was nothing in the world he’d rather be looking at.
And just as quickly, time seemed to speed back up.
The stranger practically spun Noe back to safety, as though they’d been in the middle of a dance.
Noe blinked, realizing that he’d been staring. He went scarlet and took a shy step away from the other man. The strangers smile didn’t fade, it grew wider, a little bolder as he withdrew his arms.
“You saved my life!” Noe gasped. He grabbed one of the stranger’s hands in both of his, shaking it vigorously.
“It was nothing,” the stranger laughed.
Noe insisted, “Can I get you a coffee or something to eat? Even if it was nothing, I still owe you!” And then he flushed again, realizing that he hadn’t even introduced himself and was still holding the other man’s hand. He dropped the gloved hand, meeting the stranger’s bright eyes. He said, “I’m Noe, Noe Archiviste, it’s very nice to meet you, thank you so much, again—I’m sorry, did I say thank you already?”
The stranger was certainly not from around here. He wore a peculiar, billowing black coat. It had a dramatic, wide collar and a single button at the waist. The tail of the coat belled out like a balloon around his legs. It had very wide sleeves that hung past the hem of the garment. The coat seemed like it floated around him. The man had an artful blue bow tied around the collar of his shirt and another ribbon around his waist with long, fluttering tails. He wore a pair of jaunty, white spats and scuffed black boots. Noe found the well worn, practical shoes to be utterly at odds with the rest of his flamboyant ensemble.
Instead of introducing himself, the other man cocked his head, eyeing Noe like he was a curious artifact. “Noe…” he repeated, “‘Child of the Ark,’ hm? That’s a good name.”
“Oh,” Noe blinked, a little puzzled by this strange man, “Thank you?”
“Your hat, that’s what you're missing,” the stranger murmured. He glanced away, searching the sidewalk for Noe’s white hat.
Noe raised a hand, said, “Please don’t, I can…” he trailed off as the other man turned back to him, holding his hat. To Noe’s surprise, the stranger reached up to place it on Noe’s head. It finally occurred to Noe that the other man was shorter than he was, but then again, most people were.
A grin broke across the stranger’s face, “There we go,” he said. His voice light and casual, as if he did this every day.
“Thank you,” Noe murmured. He stared at the stranger, wracking his mind for something clever or interesting to say. He’d never met anyone so…idiosyncratic before, so utterly themself.
“It suits you—” the stranger broke off, then he did a double take, glancing back at the sidewalk over his shoulder. Noe blinked curiously in the same direction. He didn’t see anything but a shadow.
Then the stranger grabbed his hand and yanked him forward, pulling Noe into a small alley. The stranger was walking fast, glancing over his shoulder. Noe went along with the smaller man, unsure why even as his boots hit the cobblestone.
“I don’t want to alarm you, Noe,” the stranger said, then his voice dropped low as he flashed Noe a wide, confident smirk, “but I’m being followed.”
Noe couldn’t tell if the other man was being serious or teasing him. He glanced behind them and let out an undignified squeak, huddling closer to the stranger. There was a mass of shadows following them. And the shadows were speeding up.
The stranger’s smile softened as he tugged Noe closer, an arm slipping about the taller man’s waist. Noe knew he was blushing again, but he couldn’t help it. He’d nearly forgotten the mass of shadows chasing them because he was just staring at the stranger with stunned, stary eyes. The other man’s smile twitched at the corners, as if he knew exactly how flustered Noe was and enjoyed the hell out of it. “Hold on,” the stranger murmured, breath ghosting the shell of Noe’s ear.
And suddenly they were airborne.
For a moment, Noe assumed that he had died somehow and was floating away from his body. He was too stunned to do anything but gasp. He looked down, past his feet at the alley they’d just been in. The shadows crashed straight into a wall, the mass shuddering as if the impact had hurt. No, his body definitely wasn’t down there. He was really floating. “Oh my god,” he gasped, suddenly smiling so brightly he could barely contain himself. He practically beamed at the stranger as he breathed, “You’re a wizard!”
The stranger’s—the wizard’s—grin went even wider. “Now just stretch out your legs and walk,” he said, voice practically sparkling with mischief. The wizard kept one arm around Noe’s waist, using his free hand to take one of Noe’s, stretching the taller man’s arm across himself—as if he were leading Noe to a dance floor.
Noe couldn’t keep his eyes in one place. He was eagerly glancing around, marveling at how high above the town they were—he could easily see home around the corner. Then he looked towards the hot air balloons, floating just above the edge of town. They felt so much closer, like Noe could reach out and touch tone. He was fascinated by the sight of his own boots hitting nothing but air as magic propelled them forward.
“This is amazing,” Noe breathed,
“You’re easily impressed,” the wizard teased, “it’s just a simple gravity reversion.”
While the first half was true, Noe knew from his teacher that gravity reversion was not simple. It was far more difficult than pulling fire or ice from ambient air, and it was downright dangerous to practice if one was not a born wizard. While anyone could study magic, wizards were connected to the World Formula. It allowed them to see traces of the Formula everywhere and blessed them with superior reflexes, speed, and strength.
Noe had never had any opportunity to test his own limits, he’d never even been able to study magic properly. The curse responded oddly whenever he touched the Formula. He could perform small magics easily, but anything beyond that overwhelmed him—left him craving blood.
A simple reversion…Noe wished it were so.
The wizard squeezed his hands, drawing Noe’s attention back to the stranger. “Noe,” the wizard murmured. Noe blinked at him, eyes going wide at the soft, nearly seductive tone to the wizard’s voice. But there was an odd spark of wariness in the wizard’s blue eyes, a seriousness and gravitas that struck Noe as completely at odds with the open, teasing expression he’d worn a moment ago. The wizard watched Noe carefully as he went on, “Have we met before?”
Noe shook his head, blurting, “I’d never forget you if we had,” before he could stop himself. He felt his cheeks growing warm again.
That chased the shadow from the wizard’s brilliant eyes and filled them with a pleased confidence. But for a moment, Noe had seen a glimpse of a very different person behind the wizard’s smile. His own mouth fell into a thoughtful frown.
“And what are you puzzling over, dear Noe?”
His mind practically broke at, ‘dear Noe.’ But Noe thought frantically, trying to keep himself from spilling out, ‘you!’ Instead, he asked, “Do you know how to dance?”
The wizard laughed, throwing his head back as a gleeful, nearly feral grin broke across his face. “You want to dance right now? Some stranger abducts you and you want a dance?”
“It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity,” he smiled shyly at the other man.
“Where were you heading?”
“Bistrot La Minette,” Noe said dreamily. Was the wizard really going to dance with him? Here, now, with those gorgeous balloons hanging in the sky behind them. It was like something out of a fairytale.
“I’ll take you there—but first!” He used the hand on Noe’s waist to give the other man a push, separating Noe from the stranger’s side for the first time since they’d been airborne. Noe yelped, momentarily afraid that the wizard was just going to drop him. Instead, the wizard neatly spun Noe around, so that they were facing each other. The other man kept his arm around Noe’s waist, using it to pull Noe closer as he flipped his grip on Noe’s hand. Noe’s eyes went wide as he met the wizards.
The stranger still wore that magnetic smirk, but his gaze was soft and almost encouraging—entirely at odds with his bold, confident expression.
Noe tentatively placed his other hand on the wizard’s shoulder.
And then the wizard led Noe into a waltz.
Noe’s eyes flickered between the wizard’s face and their feet, entranced by the sight of the town beneath them. He gazed at the wizard with stary eyes, unable to hold back his exhilaration or contain himself, “You’re a good dancer,” Noe murmured.
The other man’s smile slipped into a smirk, “I do have the advantage, I’m controlling our gravity after all.”
“This is incredible…”
Confident as ever, the wizard just shrugged, as though he did this every day. But his canted eyes were still bright with interest and intensely focused on Noe. “It’s…different,” the stranger admitted.
Noe watched the wizard in return. He studied the stranger’s pale face, intensely curious as to why the wizard seemed so interested in him.
“Say, Noe, where is that café you were heading for?”
The taller man pointed, admitting, “I know it’s that way, but I’m a little, um,” he blinked down at the ground and then back at the sky, “disoriented.”
“That way is good enough,” the stranger said, voice low and teasing.
“Do you have a particular field?” Noe asked, hiding a little under the brim of his hat.
“Oh, this and that, I’m a working man, you see,” his eyes were curious as he ventured, “…you’re very comfortable with magic. Some humans get all antsy around us, I’ve heard one say that their hair stands on end when they feel one of us draw on The World Formula.”
Noe blinked at the stranger, mouth falling into a puzzled frown. He didn’t understand what the other man was getting at. It was almost like he was self-conscious about himself, defensive even. The wizard seemed to make such a distinction between wizards and humans, Noe hadn’t realized that people made such barriers—weren’t they all human? Both humans and wizards alike could study the formulas that bound the world and revise or even rewrite certain formulas temporarily—that’s all magic was. The only distinction was that one was born a wizard, but one who simply studied magic was…
“You mean you’re a magician!” Noe exclaimed, eyes huge and eager.
The stranger’s eyes narrowed, but his expression wasn’t entirely unfriendly, more puzzled. “And you…” he drawled, “aren’t human, are you?”
“Um, well, I’m a wizard, if that’s what you mean.”
For a moment, Noe was afraid the stranger would drop him. Instead, the other man’s eyes dropped to the town below them as he quietly asked, “Should I put you down?”
“No!”
The wizard’s brilliant eyes widened, snapping back to Noe.
He squirmed a little under the intensity of the other man’s gaze. Noe stammered out, “I mean, not unless you want to? But I’m…” he glanced sideways at one of the hot air balloons, it had floated even closer to them, “I’m having fun,” Noe murmured.
The wizard—well, magician now—cocked his head again, “And you’ve got no problems dancing with a magician?”
“Why would I?”
The Magician threw his head back again, laughing as he swung Noe through the air. “I knew it, you are an interesting fellow, aren’t you?”
This damn blush was going to be the death of Noe, but at least the magician didn’t seem to mind one bit. Maybe he thought Noe had a fever or something. “I—I’m not, really,” Noe mumbled, “I just, um, well, I’ve never met a magician.”
The other man shrugged, “A lot of wizards won’t associate with us.” His face fell into a hazy frown, “…the war made things so much worse between us.”
“The war? That was ten years ago, wasn’t it?” Noe asked, “What—what did magicians have to do with it?”
The magician blinked at him, “You don’t know?” At Noe’s blank expression, the stranger pressed on. “Your parents didn’t tell you about it? How did they never mention it in school—”
“I was homeschooled,” Noe said, trying not to sound as embarrassed as he felt, “By my guardian, he’s a professor—although I’m not sure of what, but he’s never mentioned an academy, so I’m not sure where he teaches, if he even does—”
“And your family?”
“I was um, adopted, by the professor. I don’t have any family. I’ve never even met another wizard aside from the professor and Domi—”
“Domi?” The magician questioned, one eyebrow raised and that suspicious edge creeping back into his voice.
“My sister,” Noe clarified, “the professor is her grandfather. I’ve never actually left Auvignon.” He flashed the magician a small smile, “I had some friends here when I was a child, but they all…moved away eventually, like Domi did. I prefer books to people anyway. Although, the professor is very particular about what books he lets into the shop or his own library,” Noe chuckled, “Domi told me last year that he removed all mention of a politician he didn’t like from his history books.”
“Wow,” the magician murmured. Then he lips twitched into that familiar, slightly crooked smile, “So you really don’t know anything, do you?”
Noe hung his head a little.
“Oh,’’ The stranger’s smile wilted at the corners as he said hurriedly, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Really?” Noe blurted, a shy smile on his lips. Then he laughed, “How else was I supposed to take it?”
“I just meant,” the stranger laughed, shrugging, “it’s like the world is brand new for you…”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Do you want to leave Auvignon?”
Noe nodded eagerly and the magician laughed.
“Where would you go?”
“The waste,” Noe said firmly.
The magician blinked at him, cocking his head slightly as he said, “You…you do know there’s nothing there except fields and mountains, right?”
“There’s a wizard I have to find,” the dark-skinned man murmured. The magician spun Noe around, and his gaze drifted from the magician to the mountains in the distance…to the waste.
“An old friend? An ex—”
“Nothing like that,” Noe went scarlet at the magician’s insinuation. The wizard chuckled, probably at Noe’s expense, but his blue eyes were soft and curious. Noe glanced shyly at his feet, wondering how he could possibly explain the curse to a stranger—especially such a beautiful stranger. A stranger who kept asking Noe questions about himself, as though he were genuinely curious. He finally murmured, “I have…a condition…My professor told me that there’s a wizard out there who might be able to help me, his name is Van—”
“My dear Noe, does this café have a balcony?”
Noe blinked between the stranger and the town beneath them. He hadn’t even noticed, but the magician had taken them lower in the sky to the sidewalk. They hovered just above the balcony on the café’s third floor. He stared at the magician, wondering how he’d known that this was the café. Noe nodded, “How did you know?”
The magician’s brilliant smile flashed to life, white teeth shining and eyes gleaming. He leaned close, lips brushing Noe’s ear, “magic.”
The feel of those soft lips on Noe’s delicate skin sent a shiver down his spine. Noe realized just how close he was to the other man, was suddenly terribly aware of how warm the hand on the small of his back was.
The magician guided him to the balcony, swinging Noe around one last time so that Noe was closest to it. He withdrew his hand from Noe’s waist slowly, almost reluctantly, thumb brushing across the crest of Noe’s hip. The sensation made Noe’s breath hitch. He arched ever so slightly into that light touch, startling himself and the magician. The stranger swallowed hard. His mouth parted slightly, and his eyes were fixed on Noe’s.
When Noe’s boots touched the balcony, the spell over them seemed to break. The magician lowered his eyes, hiding a little under his bangs. But not quickly enough, Noe caught a hint of a pink coloring the other man’s cheeks. The magician was still holding his hand, floating just above the balcony and leaning slightly over Noe.
“Just stay inside for a few minutes, I’ll draw them off,” the stranger murmured. Noe had completely forgotten about the mass of shadows that had chased them into the sky.
Noe stretched his arms past the balcony and clasped the stranger’s gloved hand in both of his. “Wait!” he gasped, “I don’t even know your name!”
The magicians’ eyes went soft and dreamy again. He leaned closer and for a moment Noe thought the stranger was going to kiss him. Instead, Noe felt his lips brush the shell of his ear again.
“That’s one hell of a curse,” he whispered. Noe could feel the magician’s smirk against his skin, the sensation made his heart race. The stranger stayed close for a moment longer, murmured in a soft, dreamy voice, “I hope you find Vanitas.”
He pulled away, wearing that wicked smirk as he dropped below the balcony and out of sight.
Noe’s eyes flew wide as he reached for the magician, “Wait—!”
But the stranger was gone.
He leaned over the balcony, searching the street below for that distinctive coat and the fluttering tails of the magician’s bow. Noe scanned the sky, but it was like the stranger had just vanished.
How had he known about Vanitas?
Now wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just staring into the distance and hoping to catch another glimpse of the magician. He pulled off one of his gloves to trace the ear that the magician had been so close to. Absently, his fingers brushed against his cheek, and he was a little startled that it was still warm. God, had he been blushing through their entire dance? He couldn’t help it though—he’d never met anyone as enchanting as that magician.
Then, he heard heels clicking against the floor. And whoever wore them was moving fast.
He turned around just in time to get an armful of Dominique. She gasped, “Are you alright?!” as she flung her arms around his neck. His sister hugged him tightly before pulling away to look up at him.
Noe blinked owlishly at her, “Of course?”
“Someone told me you flew onto the balcony!”
Oh.
“Ah, well, it’s a funny story actually…”
She gave him a knowing, wary look. But Dominique took Noe’s hand and led him downstairs to the café. She sat him down at a cozy booth in the back of the store, where a three-tiered tray of savory looking sandwiches, scones, and various sweets and a full, steaming teapot was waiting for them. Apparently, Noe had kept her waiting for twenty minutes, so she’d gone ahead and ordered lunch. While they waited for their tarte tatin, Noe told her the brief story.
“…and then he said, ‘that’s one hell of a curse, I hope you find Vanitas,’” Noe gestured a little too enthusiastically with his teacup, spilling some on the sleeve of his shirt. “But I never said Vanitas’s name! And then he just disappeared…” he couldn’t hide his disappointment about that.
Domi was studying him with wary eyes, bordering on downright suspicious. She asked, “and what did this man look like?”
“Beautiful,” Noe blurted, hands immediately flying to cover his face in embarrassment. At least it made his sister laugh. “I mean, he had long, dark hair and blue eyes,” calling them blue didn’t do them justice, but Noe was not going to let himself ramble on about how bright, how piercing the magician’s eyes were. Or how they reminded Noe of a blue gemstone, intensely reflective facets catching the light and throwing off icy highlights and deeper, darker lowlights. Or the intensity of the magician’s curious, clever gaze, how thrilling it had been to be the focus of the man’s attention. “He was…” Noe felt his cheeks heating up again, “very handsome.”
Noe took a long sip of tea, trying to compose himself—the last thing he needed was Domi’s merciless teasing. Although, she was eyeing him the same way Murr would eye a small bird before pouncing.
“Well, he wore a strange, dark coat, it was almost bell shaped? With really long sleeves. And he also had a peculiar earing, I think it was an hourglass with a long, blue gem dangling from—”
“Noe, you idiot!” Domi gasped, “What if that was Vanitas!”
Noe yelped, “What?!”
“A beautiful young man with dark hair, blue eyes, and an hourglass charm? It must be him!” Domi said, a hint of disbelief in her voice, “Honestly, Noe, you’re implausibly naïve sometimes. How else do you think he knew that you were going to say Vanitas?”
“…magic?”
Domi grumbled wordlessly, took a long sip of tea, and said, “You know magic doesn’t work that way.”
“B-but,” Noe stammered, totally unwilling to entertain Domi’s theory—there was no way. “I thought Vanitas was an old man, very tall, with long white hair—It couldn’t have been him!” Noe insisted, “And he didn’t have the book!”
Domi scoffed, “What, did you expect to find a wizard just carrying a book with him all the time?”
Noe’s mouth fell into a petulant frown, “…not exactly.”
“Besides, nobody is really sure what he looks like—or if he even exists,” She sniffed, “It was probably someone just pretending to be him. He’s infamous, you know. Any reasonable wizard would stay away from a person like that.”
“Why?”
“A wizard who only casts curses? And you have to ask?”
“No, Domi, not that, why stay away from him? Did you find out anything new—”
“No, Noe!” She sounded a little flustered now, “There’s never anything new! In all these years, I’ve never met a single person who’s met him or even known someone who’s met him!”
Noe sighed, absently selected a cookie from the tray.
“I still don’t understand why you’re so fixated—”
“Because the professor told me—”
“When you were a child, Noe!” Domi insisted, “Vanitas, his book, it’s all sounds magical, but whoever he is, that book will not break your curse. If every rumor says it curses innocent wizards, then there’s probably a grain of truth to them. Grandfather was probably just trying to cheer you up. But you don’t need to worry, we will find a cure…”
Noe didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything kind to say. Domi and the Professor had been researching his curse for years. And they had never found any way to break it. Curses were, on the most basic level, a revision of an entire person. The simplest way to break a one, was to find the caster and…persuade them to break it. It was possible to break a curse without the caster, but it was far more complicated. Most curses leave a trace of the caster’s magic on the victim, it lingered like a stain.
But Noe’s curse was unusual. It was entirely clean, no hint of the caster. And although he was a curse-bearer, he hadn’t experienced any mental deterioration. Not all curse-bearers were as lucky as him, there were certainly some who suffered minor curses and functioned well. But if a powerful curse couldn’t be broken…the curse-bearer would eventually lose their humanity entirely. There would be no coming back. The thought made Noe’s blood run cold. He reached for his teacup then, taking small sips to chase away that chill.
“Noe,” Domi said gently, “...if you see that wizard again, please stay away from him—for my sake.”
Noe deflected, muttering dejectedly, “he wasn’t a wizard, he was a magician…”
His sister frowned, “A magician?” Shock was plain in her voice, “You danced in the sky with a magician?”
“…yes?”
She sighed, propping one elbow on the table so that she could rest her head in her hand. “Eat a sandwich, Noe, I bet you forgot to eat breakfast.”
He had. While Domi seemed to be thinking very hard about something, Noe selected a cucumber sandwich. He’d been talking too much to properly eat anything.
After a few minutes of silence, Noe ventured, “…Domi? Why—what happened to make wizards distrust magicians? I thought things were getting better between us, magicians are allowed into the Academies now, so why?”
“Grandfather didn’t tell you, did he?” She said, and suddenly she sounded much older. And tired, he heard a bone deep exhaustion in her voice that he didn’t understand. Noe shook his head and she sighed. “I—I’m not sure if it’s my place to tell you, it’s really his story to tell. But…” she flashed him a small, mischievous smile, a faint echo of the one she wore when they were children causing mayhem, “…if he talks to you about it, pretend you don’t know anything.”
A waiter carrying two large plates of heavenly smelled tarte tatin stopped by the table, interrupting Domi, but she didn’t seem to mind. Noe perked up at the sight of the desert, he was holding his fork in the ready position. As soon as the waiter left, Noe dove in.
She was smiling softly at him. Then she sighed, “There’s always been bad blood between us…for centuries, wizards thought that magicians were stealing magic from them. They were afraid that magicians would suck up all the magic and leave the wizards with nothing.
“That was disproved seventy years ago, at the Paris Academy. A wizard and a magician collaborated to create a device that let them see the World Formula. They used it to prove that magicians weren’t drawing magic from wizards, but from the Formula, the same way we do. After that, the academy started accepting magicians and things got better…”
“…he mentioned the war with Altus,” Noe said softly, “I didn’t know wizards were involved…”
She nodded, “The Queen conscripted thousands of students from academies all over the country.”
“Why—how? I thought it was illegal for us to use magic to harm others?”
Her mouth quirked into an unhappy smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It is, but…those laws can be suspended during wartime.”
Noe couldn’t read her expression, he’d never seen his sister look so bitter, so dejected. And he wasn’t entirely sure why. “But they knew, right? The Academy students knew what could happen?”
“No.”
His eyes went wide, he felt queasy suddenly. Noe put his fork down, tarte tatin only half eaten. He poured himself a fresh cup of tea, grateful that it was still hot. He practically huddled around the mug. He asked, “Didn’t Mina go to the Paris Academy?” Noe almost didn’t want to know the answer, but he couldn’t help asking what had happened to their childhood friend.
Domi nodded, she said, “After the war, they had to disclose the conscription agreement. But they offer financial support to students who agree to it…so most of them have to.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“For a few months,” she continued, “it seemed like things were going in our favor. But the Altus king, he recruited magicians to fight for him, to fight against our wizards…But magicians aren’t…” she frowned, searching for the right phrase, “…plugged into the World Formula the way we are. They can draw from the source, although it’s much harder for them to reach. But, since they aren’t directly connected, they aren’t hit with rebounds the same way we are.”
Noe’s eyes went wide, “the Professor never told me that…No rebound at all?”
His sister nodded, “they can’t burn themselves out like we can either, so, they can draw more. But they have a weaker constitution, if they can’t spin all that energy into a revision, it’ll crush them…” her eyes flickered back to Noe’s and there was something anxious in her gaze, “…And it means that they can throw curses without any rebound.
“An Altus magician cast a curse, a curse so massive and powerful that it warped one thousand wizards. It turned them all into demons.” She swallowed hard, “They went mad, revising formulas without any control—Grandfather told Louis about one witch who revised gravity…she flattened herself and an entire platoon to death in a crater fifty feet wide and a hundred feet deep.”
Noe stared at her, half hoping that she would smile and say, ‘just kidding,’ and tease him for being so naïve. Finally, he murmured, “I…I didn’t know that the Professor was involved…” he thought back, ten years ago…he didn’t remember the professor traveling much when he was a child. But there was one summer, just before he turned ten, when Domi and Louis had stayed the entire summer. He’d been so excited—they usually only came for a week or two every month. But that summer, their older sister Veronica had joined them. He blinked up at Domi, asking “That summer?”
She nodded gravely, “that’s why Veronica came…grandfather wanted someone strong to watch us.”
“Why…why didn’t the Professor tell me?”
“I—I think grandfather thought you were the best part of him…he didn’t want to share the worst parts of himself with you,” She murmured, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “He loves you. And he just wants to protect you. With me…” she lowered her eyes, “I had to learn, because of my family and our…position. And I never mentioned it because…” she blushed and sighed, “You’re just so…you, Noe. It—it makes us want to protect you.”
Noe couldn’t really argue with that line of reasoning. But he was struggling to process everything…he was imagining that witch revising gravity, crushing herself and those poor soldiers around her. And he needed to stop that train of thought now, before…
“…Do you want to go to the airshow?”
xxxxxxxx
The airshow ended at sunset with a display of fireworks. Noe had been utterly enchanted; He’d always loved fireworks. Domi had simply enjoyed how happy Noe was. But Domi being Domi, had already made dinner reservations for them and insisted that Noe change into something more formal.
Once they got home, Domi went upstairs to settle in and change for dinner while Noe busied himself closing the shop. He drew the curtains over the bay windows and switched off the sconces that lit them. Then he locked the door and headed to the counter to tally up the day’s sales.
And then the bell above the door chimed.
Noe glanced curiously over his shoulder to find a woman stepping into the shop.
She was petite, inches shorter than Dominque.
He turned to face her, still puzzled. He could have sworn he locked that door.
The woman wore a white, single-breasted jacket with a matching long skirt. The jacket had a high, rounded collar, trimmed with crimson fur. Her skirt had the same trim and dark red detailing. A hooded caplet fluttered around her shoulders, fastened with a cheery, red silk bow. It matched the rest of her outfit, made of the same fine white velvet, trimmed and lined with blood red fur.
The woman wore the hood pulled low over her face.
There was nothing physically intimidating about her, but there was something ominous about her.
“Ah,” Noe tried to smile, but he couldn’t hide his unease, “I’m sorry miss, but the store is closed—I could have sworn I locked that door.”
“You did.”
Her voice was delicate and crisp, in other circumstances Noe would have described it was sweet. But her tone was so cold, so utterly lifeless. Something about her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
She strode forward and Noe flinched, taking a few steps back. But he kept his attention on her, the professor taught him to never take your eyes off the enemy. He braced himself.
But she completely ignored him, treating him like some decorative piece of furniture and walked right past him. Silently, she started browsing the store.
Noe had no idea what was happening. He felt ridiculous, but he didn’t take his eyes off her while she casually examined book after book.
After a few minutes, she glanced up at him. Then the woman took off her hood to properly met his gaze. She was strikingly pretty, with doe-like eyes and long, pale lashes. Her hair was a peculiar shade of pale pink, and her eyes a bright shade of gold. Framed against all that crimson fur and with that red silk bow at her throat, she practically shone with an ethereal, almost otherworldly beauty.
“You don’t have a very broad selection…”
Noe blinked, and before he could think better of it said, “Ah, we do have a mezzanine,” he pointed up, “that has a different variety of subjects. The owner is very particular, he curates our inventory.”
She stared at him for a moment. “That’s…bold of you, back-talking the witch of the waste.”
“I didn’t mean to be rude, but we do have other sect—” Noe’s eyes blew wide as he finally processed her words, “The witch of the waste?”
Noe stumbled away from the woman, but she just watched him impassively.
What did she want with him?
“I saw you earlier…” She murmured, “I was curious what sort of person you are.”
“I—” Noe was just staring at her. He was a wizard, wasn’t he? He shouldn’t feel so defenseless in front of another practitioner. But the witch of the waste…He’d knew the stories.
There was a rumor that she had once been the Queen’s executioner—sent after witches and wizards who broke the laws of magic; That she hunted and executed curse-bearers who had gone mad. He wasn’t sure how that could possibly be true when the witch had a reputation for spinning curses effortlessly—and curses were the second greatest violation of the laws. He even remembered the professor saying that she was gifted enough to suffer almost no backlash. What could she possibly want from him? “I just run a bookshop,” Noe said lamely.
“That…isn’t all, is it? You are a wizard.”
“I am, but—”
“Unskilled, but strong…” then she muttered, “I don’t see what’s so interesting about…” Then her eyes narrowed. She stared at him so intensely that it felt like she was looking inside him somehow. Noe flinched under her keen gaze, unable to meet her eyes. The witch said, “Look at me.”
Noe took a deep breath and met her curious, gold eyes.
“Ah,” the witch breathed, as though she’d finally found what she was looking for. “I see it…”
“See what?”
She sighed, shook her head as though she were disappointed. “You’re doing it all wrong…” Then she said coldly:
“You’ll never break that curse.”
Noe’s breath caught, and his eyes impossibly wide with terror. He felt like his stomach had just sunk to the floor while his heart jumped high into his throat. His heart was beating so fast that he could practically hear it. There was such a gravity to her words—they just echoed in his mind. Her voice hadn’t been cruel, but…did the witch of the waste just curse him?
All he managed to whisper was, “What—why?”
The witch didn’t look malicious at all, rather, she looked almost sad.
He didn’t feel any different, but he didn’t know how it felt to be cursed. He’d been born cursed to crave blood, but Noe didn’t remember that, couldn’t identify how it had felt.
She opened the door to leave, as it opened, Noe saw something else move—something was standing just outside the door. He realized with a start that it was a shadow, just like the shadows that had followed him and Vanitas earlier. Was that why she was here? Had she been following him—or Vanitas?
“Wait—why? What did I—”
Her gaze was impassive as it swept over him, as though she’d made some final judgement. She turned to leave, calling over her shoulder, “You should stay away from him. Even if he can break that curse, it might cost you your heart.”
And then she left, closing the door behind it.
Noe darted to the door, flung it open. The front steps were empty. He scanned the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, to chase after her and beg her to explain. But there was no sign of her, it was like she’d just disappeared into the shadows. As he considered running outside to keep looking, he heard Domi’s heels clicking on the wood floors.
“Noe? Did something happen? I felt…”
His stomach bottomed out again. If Domi had felt something…then the witch really had cursed him.
She came to his side, touched his arm, “Are you alright? What happened—”
“The witch of the waste cursed me!” Noe blurted.
“What?!”
“I don’t know what happened!” He practically wailed. Noe felt tears welling at the corners of his eyes.
“Oh, Noe, it’ll be alright,” His sister insisted. She sounded flustered though, hands fluttering around his shoulders as she tried to comfort him. Domi always hated to see him cry. When they were children, she’d make a fool of herself doing little dances to try to make him laugh. And he always did, because if he started crying, Domi usually did too. Watching her dance or try to tell jokes while holding back flustered tears of her own was equal parts sad and hysterical, as Louis had told them so many times.
She guided him inside, poking her head outside the door and scanning the street for herself. When she was satisfied, she closed the door, locked it, and fastened the security chain.
Noe was a mess of nerves. He let Domi lead him out of the shop and through the courtyard, into the home behind the shop. She sat him down at the kitchen table and started preparing tea for them.
“I don’t know what happened,” Noe groaned, “I locked the door, and when I turned around, she was in the store. And then she just started browsing!”
“Was she angry?” Domi suggested.
“No! She was…” Noe shook his head, “She reminded me of a doll. She didn’t seem angry or happy or anything, she was just…there.”
“Then how did she curse you?”
“I’m not sure what happened. I don’t feel any different, but…you felt something?”
Domi nodded slowly, “Someone tugging on the Formula, I can feel it if they’re nearby and if they pull hard enough.”
Noe finally noticed that she had changed out of her favored, sleek white pantsuit into something more formal for dinner. She wore a long, elaborate skirt with a cascade of ruffles and ribbons decorating the bustle. Domi paired it with a delicate, gauzy blouse with long, lace trimmed sleeves and a high neck. She’d rolled the lace sleeves up over her forearms, clearly unbothered by the possibility of future wrinkles.
She was pacing in front of the stove while she waited for the water to boil, kicking the skirt’s modest train out behind her at the end of every pass. Domi looked so out of place that Noe started laughing.
His sister eyed him from the corner of her eyes, “what?”
“There’s just something funny about you nervously making tea while you’re all dressed up.”
“I like dressing up—and I wanted you to wear the waistcoat with tails.”
“Domi, I might have just been cursed by the witch of the waste!”
She fell silent as she prepared the tea. Noe tried to take solace in the normalcy of the routine. Domi finally drew him from his thoughts by pushing a mug towards him. He smiled at the first sip. She’d picked the herbal tea blend he defaulted to when he wanted something comforting to drink. And that small act of kindness made Noe feel a little better.
“I…” She frowned, staring into her own teacup, “I think I would have felt…more if she’d cursed you.”
“But Domi, she said ‘you’ll never break that curse.’”
“Was that all she said?”
Noe nodded, “Doesn’t that sound like a curse to you?”
“…yes,” Domi admitted, “She must have meant your curse—But casting another curse on top of it, modifying it?” She shook her head, “That isn’t easy. Your curse…it’s complex, Noe. Most wizards would never even notice it, it’s…delicate, and bound so tightly to you.”
“But you felt something, didn’t you?”
“I did, but…I think I would have felt more if she’d really cursed you,” She sighed, “You know I don’t agree with the way grandfather taught you—or more, didn’t teach you. If he had, you would’ve felt it too, or understood what you felt.”
“Domi…” Noe sighed, voice clearly communicating that he didn’t want to have this argument again.
“Fine, fine,” She muttered, dismissing that line of conversation with a wave of her hand. “Did she say anything before she left?”
“…She warned me to stay away from Vanitas,” Noe said slowly, “She said…he might be able to break my curse, but it might cost my heart…”
Domi’s eyes widened.
“…Domi,” Noe blinked up to meet her eyes, “If Vanitas can break my curse—”
“Noe, no,” she snapped, “No, no, no—I know what you’re thinking, and no. Don’t go looking for him. He eats wizard’s hearts!”
“You don’t think she meant literally, do you?”
“I don’t care what she meant! Vanitas is dangerous! He doesn’t break curses—he casts them.”
“But that’s just a rumor, Domi,” Noe argued, “No one knows what he’s really like…and…”
“And what?”
Noe glanced up, meeting her gaze, “She sounded like she knew him, she said she’d been watching us earlier.” He could see how uneasy Domi looked, but he couldn’t let this drop. Noe pressed on, “That magician really was Vanitas.”
“…might have been.”
“If it was,” Noe insisted, “Then I must try to find him!”
His sister looked stricken. Then she glanced away, staring hard at the stove, “…he could be halfway around the world by now.”
“Or he could be just over that hill in the waste!”
She scoffed, “You aren’t just going to go charging into the waste looking for him.” When he didn’t respond, her eyes went wide and she snapped up to meet his eyes, “…Noe, tell me you aren’t.”
“Domi…I have to do this.”
“It’s dangerous!”
“I am a wizard,” Noe said, “A strong one, if you and the Professor are right. I’m not helpless, and I’m not a child, Domi!” He reached across the table to take her hand, “You have to let me grow up.”
She didn’t look happy, but she squeezed his hand. “…Wait until the morning,” she said begrudgingly, “I’ve got an idea.”
xxxxxxx
Noe woke up at dawn. He’d slept fitfully, too excited and nervous to get any proper rest. He padded down to the kitchen, expecting to find his sister. Instead, it was empty. Puzzled, he wondered what kind of idea she’d had last night. That thought led him to the professor’s work room.
When he swung open the door, he found Domi hunched over the workbench—still dressed in her dinner clothes. She snapped upright, glancing at him with a bright smile, “I did it!” She exclaimed. She ushered him closer.
Noe came to stand over her shoulder, peering curiously at the table. It was a mess. Her notes were scattered across it, most of them pushed to the edges of the table to make space for her equipment. She’d pulled out dozens of beakers and phials, several long, thin glass tubes filled with glowing liquid. One larger beaker in particular caught Noe’s attention, although he wasn’t sure why, he knew that was what Domi had worked so hard on. It was filled with silver liquid, reminding Noe of liquid mercury.
“What—what is it?”
“It’s a tracking charm,” she gestured towards the beaker, “I need a few drops of your blood to finish it.”
Noe obediently held one finger above the beaker. She pricked him so delicately that he barely felt it, watching as his blood dripped into the beaker. The solution turned dark purple and lost its peculiar luminescence.
She reached for two small vials and a funnel. One vial had a small lock of his hair in it. She carefully poured the purple liquid into the vial and the hair dissolved. Then it started to glow, giving off a delicate violet light. She made a delighted sound and carefully sealed the vial. Then she filled and capped the second vial with the purple liquid. She took the second vial and threaded a silver chain through the cap.
“Turn around,” she instructed.
Noe did. Domi settled the charm around his neck and fastened the clasp. Noe reached up to touch the vial where it rested just above his heart.
“As long as you’re wearing this, I’ll be able to find you.”
The vial was warm. He beamed at his sister, “You’re incredible, Domi—how did you do it?”
“It’s complicated,” she admitted, “Grandfather had notes for the solution, the object you’re seeking has to be suspended in an appropriate medium. It works better for commercial purposes—say you’re looking for a particular mineral or plant. I even had to do a revision on your hair…” She trailed off as she threaded a matching silver chain through the glowing purple vial and fastened it around her own neck. Domi put a hand to it, and smiled up at Noe, “So don’t you dare take yours off.”
Noe surprised himself by hugging her tightly.
He was really doing this. He was really going to look for Vanitas and the Book. He’d been dreaming of this for years, ever since the professor had told him about the Book. But it was finally hitting him. It might be difficult, he might be hurt, he might get lost.
Domi usually only visited him once a month…and he was used to her leaving him to join the rest of her family in Paris. Noe had never left Domi first.
“Noe?” She asked, “Are you sure?”
He nodded, said just as softly, “It’s just that I’ve never left you…”
That made her laugh, “I know,” and then her voice fell, “I guess it's time...you're nearly twenty now.”
“I know it’s time,” Noe said, trying to comfort her—and to some extent himself.
“Maybe you could wait a few days and see if he comes back?”
Noe shook his head, “Domi...”
She sighed, “…I can’t really stop you, can I?”
“No, I—I must find a way to break this curse. If the Professor mentioned the book of Vanitas to me, he did it for a reason,” Noe said, “And if nothing comes of it,” he shrugged, “I’ll drop it, and we’ll keep looking for some other way to break the curse.”
“There’s a rumor that he lives in a moving castle,” Domi sighed. Then she met his gaze, eyes serious. Her voice was grave as she said, “I can’t even say what a moving castle might look like. But…That’s all I’ve ever found out about him, Noe, in all these years.”
Noe’s eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. Was he really going to chase after a man who might be Vanitas? With his only clue being that this man might live in a moving castle? A man so enigmatic that not even Domi, with all her familial connections, could trace him? But his doubts did nothing to shake his resolve—Noe had already made his choice.
“I’ll be alright Domi.”
Domi nodded, she didn’t look happy about it, but she helped him pack.
An hour later, Noe was standing on the front steps of the store, a small suitcase in hand and Murr on his shoulder. It hit him again that he was really doing this. He pulled his sister into a tight hug and for a moment she clung to him like they were children again.
When he stepped away, she sighed heavily.
“One week,” She said quietly, “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll come find you.” She nodded towards the charm around his neck, “Mine will turn red if you’re hurt, so…” she glanced away for a moment. When she met his eyes again, she gave him a rueful smile, “You’ll be alright, Noe. You’re strong.”
Noe’s chest felt too tight, he hugged her one last time. He kissed her check and murmured, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said, eyes shining with fondness as she let him go, “Go on, be safe…” then she flashed him a wide smile, “I hope you find him.”
“I will.”
xxxxxxx
Navigating the waste turned out to be much, much more difficult than Noe had realized.
It was getting dark, and Noe was beginning to feel like a complete fool. He’d spent the entire day just getting to the waste, and now…he surveyed the distance, and like Vanitas had said—all he saw were rocks and mountains.
Maybe this had been a mistake. If he started heading back now, well, at least he knew which way led home. If he kept going…then he might end up turned around. “What do you think, Murr?”
He glanced down at the cat.
Murr wasn’t at his feet. He glanced around, maybe he’d found a mouse to chase. But…Noe couldn’t see him anywhere. Panic startled to bubble up his throat and he started calling the cat’s name.
That’s when he heard a peculiar creak, like metal machinery.
Then he heard a loud, distinct meow.
Noe bolted in the direction of that mewl. He was sure that it came from up the hill. When he came to the crest of the hill, his breath hitched.
He stared into a deep valley, shrouded by a heavy mist. It was massive, stretching out to the horizon. The mountains in the distance were enormous, the tips peaking above the fog to stretch high into the sky. The wind was much stronger here, lashing at his hair and tugging at his scarf. He kept one hand on his hat, searching desperately for his cat.
Murr meowed again.
Noe yelled, “Murr! Murr where are you?”
The wind roared again, whipping the fog as intensely as it lashed at Noe. It pulled the fog along, revealing bits of the valley. The mist on the hill below him cleared and Noe finally saw what had made that mechanical sound.
He saw a giant, metal structure—it was partially shrouded by the mist, so he couldn’t even guess at its shape. But he could distinctly see metal feet, moving and propelling it forward. And between the feet, he spotted a doorway on a short landing. There were a few steps leading up to the landing and a small lamp hung above the doorway. The landing even had an iron railing.
But this door was moving, and it was moving away from him fast.
Murr was sitting on the top step, just beside the door. He meowed at Noe, as if to say, what’s taking you so long?
Noe sprinted after it.
He knew that he could run faster than the average human. But he’d never had an opportunity to test his physical limits, and he’d never felt a need to. He would have said that the door was moving too quickly for him to catch up.
But Noe did. In fact, he caught up easily. He grabbed the railing and pulled himself onto the landing, easily jumping the steps. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Murr gave him a cross between a yawn and a meow with a very disinterested look. Noe scooped the cat up only to have Murr bat at his face before crawling onto his shoulder.
Noe looked up at the metal mechanism whirring above him. It certainly wasn’t a castle…but it was moving. He glanced at Murr, “did you do this on purpose?”
The wizard got a short, disgruntled meow in response.
Well, he’d recovered his cat…But what next? He glanced at the door again. It was so incongruously average—just a solid, wooden door with a small, semicircle window above it and a brass doorknob. It might have been the door to any home in Auvignon. Noe hesitantly tested the doorknob and to his surprise, it wasn’t locked. He snatched his hand back.
Noe glanced over his shoulder at the waste. The sun had set, and the only light came from the small lantern above the door.
Murr mewled and pawed at Noe’s cheek, the cat sounding distinctly unhappy. Maybe Noe was projecting, but the meow sounded like, ‘get on with it,’ to Noe. What choice did he have? He could take his chances trying to find shelter in the waste, or in this peculiar, moving structure.
…a moving house…
Noe’s eyes went wide.
Could this be the moving castle?
He reached for the doorknob, stealing himself for whatever he might find inside. Noe took a deep breath and opened the door.
He wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but it was not a cozy, quiet living room. A few steps led from the door into the room proper. Noe cautiously walked up them, standing anxiously at the top of them.
The room had pine floors and grey stone walls with exposed wooden support beams running across the ceiling. It gave the space an old fashioned, almost rustic charm. Noe noticed staircase of matching wood on the far wall. The focal point of the space was a large, old-fashioned hearth that looked like it belonged in a castle. It was raised off the floor with a wide hood made of smooth stone. A line of pots and pans hung along the wall beside it. There was a thin, wooden podium set just in front of the hearth with a thick tome resting on it. A small fire burned low in the hearth, dimly lighting the room and casting long shadows across the floor.
A cozy looking red settee faced the hearth and Noe practically felt it calling his name. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until he found a respite. The sofa had a few piles of books haphazardly strewn across it. In fact, the whole room was so terribly cluttered it was hard to make out what furniture might be buried under piles of books, dishes, flasks, and what Noe thought was a loaf of bread. He spotted shelves stuffed with glass phials and peculiar looking plants—he recognized some of the items, he’d seen them before in the professor’s workshop. Noe’s heart fluttered; this home absolutely belonged to a wizard.
“I don’t envy you, that is one bad curse.”
Noe startled, spinning around to find the source of the voice. He didn’t see anyone else in the room, but this was a wizard’s home so nearly anything was possible. But that voice certainly did not belong to the man Noe met yesterday.
The voice whistled, “that’s tough, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting rid of that one.”
“Hello?” Noe ventured, trying to keep his voice low, “Are—are you Vanitas?"
“Do I look like that jerk?”
“Um,” Noe licked his lips, totally unsure how to proceed, “I don’t know? I just, well, I’m looking for Vanitas.”
Murr hopped off his shoulder and sauntered over to the sofa. The cat found a cozy spot on an errant green blanket and curled up as though this were his own home. “Murr!” Noe gasped, a little outraged by how rude his cat was—then again…Murr was a cat.
“I’m terribly sorry!” Noe squeaked, eyes roving the room. “I just—I apologize for my rudeness, and for Murr’s! We were in the waste—”
“Obviously you’re in the waste,” the voice snorted.
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry,” Noe said in a rush, “We—we got lost and it was getting dark. And Murr led me to your door, and it was unlocked so I…” he hung his head, “We’ll leave, I’m so—I don’t know what came over me.”
“…you opened the door?”
“Yes…” the wizard murmured, a little puzzled, “it was unlocked.”
“Hm….”
“Excuse me,” Noe ventured, “But where are you? I—I’d like to thank you properly for allowing me inside.”
The voice made a disgruntled sound, “You’re looking right at me, what kind of wizard is this clueless?”
Noe was staring at the book on the slender podium in front of the fire. His eyes went wide. It couldn’t be…could it? “You…you’re a book?”
“Not just any book!” The book grumbled, “Honestly, what do they teach you nowadays?”
Noe cautiously stepped closer to the podium and bowed his head, “Thank you so much for allowing us inside—” he caught himself and said deferentially, “If in fact you are allowing us to stay, which we would very, very much appreciate.”
The book sniffed haughtily, “I’ll leave it up to him.”
“Him?” Noe asked, taking another step closer. He hadn’t noticed in the dim light, but in the low firelight he could see that the book had black pages—how peculiar. Then he noticed something silver glinting on the cover of the book, although he couldn’t get a clear view.
A clockwork grimoire with jet black pages…
Noe’s breath hitched and he took another step closer, cocking his head to get a glimpse of the book’s cover—was it black or blue?
Noe heard footsteps padding down the staircase and froze.
And when he saw who was coming down the stairs his heart leapt into his throat.
Dark hair, pulled into a low ponytail over one shoulder, electric blue eyes, and that hourglass earing brushing his shoulder.
“It’s you!” Noe gasped.
The magician who had literally and figuratively swept Noe off his feet was standing at the foot of the stairs. His eyes blew wide when they met Noe’s and his mouth fell open in shock. And, at first, Noe could have sworn he saw the magician’s mouth start pulling into that familiar, bold smirk. Instead, the magician’s expression shifted.
Noe wasn’t sure what he expected, but he didn’t expect the magician to look…almost stricken. Noe had hoped that the stranger would be as thrilled as he was. But he couldn’t read the other man’s expression at all.
Then the magician’s face shut down entirely. His eyes were cold as he regarded Noe, shoulders square and arms crossed over his chest.
Noe felt like someone had doused him in icy water. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Something about the magician’s reaction left him feeling terribly off-kilter. He tried to see this from the stranger’s perspective. Noe had basically chased him down and entered his home without permission, he couldn’t exactly blame the magician for not being happy with the situation. At best, he seemed angry with Noe, and at worst…entirely indifferent.
“I apologize for entering your home without your permission,” Noe said, bowing his head in what he hoped was a respectful gesture.
“…what are you doing here?”
Noe’s eyes widened. Had the magician…not wanted Noe to find him? Something in the magician’s voice made Noe’s heart sink so hard that he could almost hear the echo of it slamming into the floor.
The magician was sarcastic, so disinterested that it felt like a slap to the face rather than a question. Noe tried to school his face into a polite smile, but he had always been terrible at lying with his eyes. He probably looked as miserable as he felt.
“You…you are Vanitas, aren’t you?” Noe asked, voice smaller and meeker than he’d intended it to be. He gestured to the book on the podium, “And that is the Book of Vanitas?”
For a moment, the magician’s façade broke and suddenly he just looked young and terribly unsure of himself. Then his expression soured again, and he glanced away, looking rather pointedly at the stone wall instead of at Noe.
“Please,” Noe murmured, “You noticed my curse, didn’t you?”
He wasn’t sure if it was the ‘please,’ or his tone, but something caught Vanitas’ attention because his eyes snapped back to Noe.
“We’ve been trying to break it for my whole life,” Noe said desperately. The Magician had seen some specter of the curse on Noe, hadn’t he? Did he not understand that it forced Noe to drink blood?
Blood drinking was the highest violation of the laws of magic. Wizards turned to blood to enhance their own vitality, increasing how much they could pull from the Formula tenfold. But if they drank too long, too often, too deeply, they were putting their own humanity at risk. Every single documented blood-drinker had lost control of their connection to the Formula and gone mad. That is what wizards meant when they spoke of demons—wizards who had lost themselves entirely. That is why Noe had to keep his curse a closely guarded secret. Unbidden, he flashbacked to lunch yesterday, to the story of the war. All he saw was that witch slamming into the earth.
If Noe couldn’t find a way to break the curse, he would either be executed for violating the laws of magic or become a demon himself.
Either this magician would help him or turn him in to the Queen’s Authorities.
“Please, if you are Vanitas, I—” it was Noe’s turn to look away, his voice was choked, “I don’t want to drink blood...”
He didn’t see how startled the magician was by that admission. He didn’t see the utter determination etched into the magician’s face.
Then Noe heard the dull click of the magician’s boots on the floor. He blinked up, surprised to see the smaller man walking towards him frowning. The magician was finally looking at Noe, but his gaze was distant somehow. He was staring at something just in front of Noe’s face, like there was something hovering there.
“How did you manage to pick up another one?” He muttered under his breath. The magician didn’t sound cold or distant anymore, just puzzled.
“Did she really curse me?!”
“She?” The other man came closer, so close that the tips of their shoes nearly touched.
Noe blushed and glanced away, too embarrassed to meet the magician’s eyes. He didn’t want the man who might be Vanitas to see him blushing right now, not when said man had turned sour so quickly. What had changed since yesterday?
The magician waved a hand through the air between them, making an elegant gesture with a flick of his wrist as his fingers traced the air. The motion made something spark. There was something there, glowing dimly. But Noe couldn’t see it properly, somehow it managed to always be just at the edge of his vision.
“…the witch of the waste,” Noe said, unable to keep the fear from leaking into his voice.
“Jeanne found you?” The magician murmured. His attention was fixed on whatever had thrown off that brief flash of light.
“Jeanne?” Noe repeated, puzzled, “You know her?!”
Absently, the other man nodded, “That explains this,” he plucked something from the air and held it caged in his hand.
“Explains what?”
Then he turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance at Noe. He went to the dining table, every inch of it was piled high with books. The magician was clearly looking for something, but his method of searching involved plucking a book, seemingly at random, examining the cover, and then tossing it onto the floor. Every thump made Noe wince.
At least the magician wasn’t glaring at him anymore.
And then Noe spotted a second man peered over the railing. He had a shock of bright orange hair and his face seemed like it was set in a perpetual frown.
Noe glanced between Vanitas and the other man. He pointed at Vanitas and asked the second man, “Are there two of him?”
The redhead scoffed, “God no, my hair wouldn’t survive two of him.”