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If magic was a person, it would be Alexis Ness.
He was born on the solar eclipse, which is nothing more than a fun fact for his parents to use while he’s an infant. His birthday is nothing of note until the day his father tries to cart him off to school and he stretches his hands out and screams “NO!”
Fire erupts around him. It blazes brighter with each repeated cry. They’re standing in a field and his parents watch mesmerized, as tongues of fire lick the stalks and devour them whole.
“NO!” Ness yells one final time and stomps his foot. The fire goes out in a wisp of smoke and they’re left standing in a barren field of razed crops.
“Alexis,” his mom says, her voice soft and shaky. She takes one slow step forward and then another until she’s gripping Ness’ hands in her own. She rubs circles on his skin in what he thinks is supposed to be a comforting gesture but in reality just makes him curl up tighter.
“You have magic,” she tells him and there’s a note of something unfamiliar in her voice. (He learns many, many years later that it’s fear. )
At five years old, Ness doesn’t care about that. All he cares about is not having to go to school and if spells are his way out, so be it. He teaches himself how to draw up magic from the well of his soul and funnel them into the words he speaks.
He learns at age eight that verbal cues are the trigger and he conjures up a gust of wind to save a child from a nasty, two-story fall. Ness thinks that’s the day that people began to change.
His village knows magic. There’s an old woman who lives at the end of the street and infuses the vegetables she grows with spells. People go to her for cold remedies and fevers alike and occasionally, they recover a day or two ahead of schedule.
His village does not know the energy that seeps through his pores, that leaks out of him like a bubbling pot. His magic roars perpetually like a fire within him, buzzing underneath his skin. He calls and it comes rushing up to his fingertips.
Ness becomes their guardian, their savior, their protector, overnight. Wolves come rising out of the forest to devour their livestock and Ness chases them away with fire from his palms. At ten, he is a clumsy fighter and one of the wolves clips him in the shoulder, but he manages to scratch the eye of another and the pack draws back, retreating into the shadows.
The old lady down the road gives him a bottle of magic medicine and it does fuck-all for him. (He lives and breathes magic, he knows it when he tastes it.) He wraps his own shoulder in gauze and asks the only soldier in the village–an old farmer who was drafted into the army in better days–to teach him how to fight.
When the pack comes back, Ness stabs the alpha straight through the heart and the rest of the wolves disappear for good.
The elders complain about dwindling crops and so Ness learns how to “talk” to plants, to be so familiar with the elements that he can feel life itself thrumming beneath his fingers. He closes his eyes and lays down in a field, whispering “Thrive” as he guides water and nutrients from the soil below into the roots.
It drains the energy out of him. He wakes up in bed a full twenty-fours later to a field brimming with budding crops. The village rejoices and throws a feast for the first time in two years.
They meet the Emperor’s quota with plenty of room to spare. The traders that haven’t been seen for months suddenly re-discover their village, marking it as a new stop on their maps. Their village becomes known as the Village of Miracles, the Village of Unforeseen Prosperity. Demetria , they call it, because the goddess of the harvest has smiled down upon them.
There is no goddess. There is only a boy trying to hold a village together through magic and sheer willpower.
Peasant blood is thin and magic needs viscosity to thrive. Ness spends his days in and out of bed, recovering from spells as fast he can cast them. Awe shifts into expectation, wonder into mundanity. Ness slips into the role of protector like it was a title bestowed upon him at birth and the rest of the village continues on like nothing had ever happened in the first place.
He knows that it won’t last. That one day someone will put the pieces together and realize that luck has a limit and their village has far exceeded it. (He’ll fight when that day comes–he’ll lose in the end but he’s strong, he has yet to be bested in battle, and he refuses to go down without a fight.) But one day, someone from the Emperor will come to cart him away–onto the battlefield maybe, where he’ll cast spells on the front lines until someone throws a spear through his heart.
He knows the day is coming but he doesn’t expect the Emperor’s messenger to be a boy with sharp blue eyes and hair the color of honey.
“I’m looking for Alexis Ness,” the boy says and even the way he speaks carries confidence. Ness feels himself unconsciously straighten up.
“That’s me,” he replies, calm and easy. He’s practiced for this day and he refuses to let years of training slip away now.
“I’m Kaiser,” the boy says and oh. Oh. Ness recognizes that name. He’s the captain of the Emperor’s guard, the best swordsman in all the land. Ness just didn’t expect him to be so… young. He can’t be that much older than him, after all.
Kaiser catches him staring and grins. He moves with a natural ease, like he was born for the spotlight.
“Join me,” he says, extending one hand out. His armor glows white in the morning sun.
“What?” Ness spits out before he remembers the narrative he built. Dumb farmer. Right. “Why me? I’m just a-”
“Don’t play coy.” Kaiser’s closed the distance between them in an instant and he has his sword pressed up against Ness’ throat. When he swallows, he feels the cold of metal. “I know what you are.”
Kaiser’s eyes are even more startling up close and Ness’ breath hitches in his chest before he manages to backpedal.
“I don’t-” Ness starts, but he’s cut off almost immediately.
“Join me,” Kaiser repeats. His smile is gone and his features have gone hard. “Or I’ll raze your village to the ground.”
Ness slips into the role of guardian out of honed instinct more than anything else. The title of protector fits him like a worn glove.
“No,” he says and stretches his arms out wide. “I can’t join you. Without me, my village will burn.”
“So?” Kaiser asks, shrugging one shoulder. “What’s a couple more deaths in a kingdom this large?” And of course someone like Kaiser wouldn’t get it. Ness has heard the rumors. He’s ruthless on and off the battlefield. He takes what he wants and he gets it because he’s the strongest.
In a way, he supposes they’re similar. Ness is the strongest but he’s chosen to let himself be herded into a corner because of it.
“This is my village and I’ll fight to protect it,” Ness says. (The words feel hollow, like the rehearsed lines of a script that never ends. Ness is slated to play the shining knight in this monotonous play as he wards off threat after threat after threat.)
He summons fire from his veins and wind from the clouds. He leaves them buzzing on the surface, like an arsenal of guns, warmed and ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
“So be it,” Kaiser mutters, unsheathing his sword. The action is long and languid. Is this really the kingdom’s best-
Kaiser is upon him before he can blink. Ness has no time to cast a spell before he’s pinned to the ground, Kaiser’s blade shoved hard against his neck and his armored knee digging into Ness’ stomach.
When Ness tries to speak, all that comes out are raspy breaths. Kaiser presses harder until he stops squirming, limbs going limp as he resigns himself to staring up at him powerlessly. Is this how it all ends?
“You are lucky,” Kaiser says, shaking his head to toss his hair back. It glows gold in the light. “That you are so pretty.”
What? Ness’ brain stalls and sputters because that… that was not where he thought this conversation was going.
“I hate repeating myself,” Kaiser continues. His voice is ice now and his face is stone. “So I will tell you one last time.” Ness swallows hard against the blade because there’s a startling finality in his tone this time. This is an all-or-nothing opportunity, a last chance before certain death. “Join me.”
“Why me?” he manages to wheeze out and Kaiser eases his grip a bit to let him speak.
“I want your power,” he sneers, leaning in close. Their noses are almost touching. “I’ve heard the rumors. I want you to be my general in the coming war.”
Ness may live in a village on the outskirts of society but even he has heard about the most recent war. It ended two months ago when Kaiser himself delivered the enemy king’s head on a silver platter.
“What war?” he chokes out. Kaiser grins and pats his cheek like he’s some fucking schoolboy that just offered up a correct answer.
“The war between me,” he says, grinning. The lighting, the sun, the whole fucking world is on his side because he looks radiant as he speaks. “And the Emperor. Winner takes the throne.”
He’s crazy, Ness thinks and yet his heart is pounding faster in his chest than it has in years. He hasn’t felt a rush like this since he first discovered magic.
“Don’t you think your powers were meant for more than gardening?” Kaiser sneers at him and that clinches it.
Fuck the narrative of the village guardian. This whole time, Ness thought he was the weary protagonist when in reality he was just the side character dawdling in the exposition. The real main character has arrived and he’s breathtakingly beautiful.
“Let me join you,” he begs and Kaiser smiles, the sun glowing with it. He finally pulls the blade back and stands up but when Ness tries to follow him, Kaiser pushes him back down onto his knees.
Ness keeps his head bowed as Kaiser taps him with his blade once on each shoulder. He uses the tip to bring Ness’ chin up until their gazes collide head-on.
Kaiser grins (it reminds him of the wolves that came once for the village–savage and snarling) and Ness finds himself instinctively grinning back. Kaiser alone is powerful but together they’ll be unstoppable.
“Rise, my Ness,” Kaiser says and he scrambles to his feet, ready to follow him into depths unknown.
If magic was a person, it would be Alexis Ness. But if victory was a person, it would be Kaiser.