Chapter Text
Sun filtered through the window, lighting up the dust particles in the air like fairy dust. The room was very open with only the occasional wooden beam going up and the stairs in the corner leading up to the second level. It was baren, showing all the old walls and oak flooring. The floor gave a slight creak when Varian stepped inside. The smell of dust and disuse filling his lungs.
The house had been empty for a while, but not long enough for a musty smell to settle and Varian was certain opening the windows would help with the old smell it did have. Though, the smell did make him think of the old cellar from his dad's house, leaving him with an odd mix of nostalgia and the bubbling feeling of something new and exciting about to start.
Varian let out a puff of breath as he put down the crate, dust flying up. “We should have divided the weight up a bit better,” Varian said, dusting off his hands as he stepped away from the crate.
Hugo gave a loud huff as he came in with another crate and placed it on top of Varian's with yet another moan of complaint. “A little late with that now, aren't we?”
Hugo sighed and leaned against the crates, brushing his brow. “These should have been the heaviest ones anyway.”
Varian smiled as Hugo had left a smear on his forehead. They were both sweaty from hauling their belongings into their new home in Aberdeen and the dust in here didn't make it much better.
Varian moved in and took out a handkerchief to wipe Hugo's brow. “There,” he said, glad to see a clean forehead. "That's better.”
“Honey, we're both pretty dirty,” Hugo said but bridged the little distance between them to place his lips on Varian's for a short but sweet peck.
“I know,” Varian said. “But it did look a little ridiculous, having a grey smear on your forehead.
“Was it that bad?” Hugo asked and Varian held up his handkerchief. “Ah, yeah I see your point now.”
“Are you two love birds going to let an old man do all the heavy lifting?” Girda asked teasingly, carrying a crate inside.
“Can't you just use your magic to levitate these inside?” Hugo asked.
“People are not supposed to know I'm an elf, so no,” the man answered as he put the crate down.
“But you sell magical potions in your shop!” Hugo said outraged.
“Alchemy is much more expected than magic,” Girda explained.
“Plenty people think that's magic as well...” Hugo noted.
“They do. But when you tell them it's alchemy, they'll believe you. Floating crates around is a bit harder to explain away with the power of nature and science,” Girda said.
“So would that mean Varian has to hide the fact that he's a magic user here?” Hugo asked.
“Oh no, not at all. He's clearly human. But the portal in the big tree should be kept a secret. We can't have humans know about the realms, let alone have them trying to get into one that's not their own,” Girda explained.
“So can't you float them inside then?” Hugo turned to Varian. “Safe all our backs a little.”
“We don’t need magic for that,” Varian said dismissively. “I can whip out a pully system in a snap!” Varian moved over to a big pair of windows facing the street where their belongings were parked and opened them wide. He looked at the ceiling and at the outside of the window for a quick inspection. “There are enough spots to hang the pullies from. Let me grab them from the crates.”
“Oooor,” Hugo stretched his word as he stepped in front of Varian before he could rush out of the house. “You can just do it with a snap of the finger? Why build a whole system that we’ll have to take down again if you can just levitate our belonging inside? I’ve seen you levitate plenty of stuff in the library.”
“I, well... what would the neighbors think?” Varian fidgeted with his gloves. “Isn't it a bit weird to meet our neighbors like that? Starting off with the magic talk?”
“Well, we'll have to explain it to them one way or another. Why not have it as our icebreaker?” Hugo said.
“I don't know, Hugo,” Varian said as he crossed his arms. “What if they don't like it? What if they don't like us?”
“Oh Var,” Hugo looped his arms around Varian's shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. “Don't worry too much about what people will think. It's on them if they don't want to accept you for who you are. Because you're amazing! And any sane person will see that.”
“I think your magic won't be a problem here, Varian.” Girda started. “People here are very spiritual. This whole town is built on the roots of a magical tree. People here generally see magic as something more natural and believe it much more. Rather the people who are not local can be a bit of a hassle since they don't have this cultural connection with the tree. You might be met with disbelief at first, but I think they'll accept you really quick.”
“Well, if you're sure it won't get us ostracized, I guess I could do it,” Varian said, taking his staff resting against the wall in the back of their new home.
It was the same staff he had gotten during the Seven Trails. But he had the middle container replaced with his focus. A miniature moon he had gotten from a dragon. Simple spells he could perform without it but the more intense ones or newer ones he needed his focus. It helped him direct his magic and negated the need for spell components.
Varian took a deep breath and made his way to the door. “Let's get this over with.”
Hugo and Girda followed him through the front door and down the stairs sandwiched between two buildings, to the street below. There stood their stack of crates, some still in the wagon Prometheus the loyal donkey had pulled, and some already on the cobble street.
Varian held his staff with both hands, closing his eyes as he willed his magic into the focus and imagined a pair of invisible hands. When he opened his eyes, he could see two giant hands outlined in a blueish hue float in front of him, ready for Varian's use. Varian was aware that these hands were invisible to most but him. He held onto his staff and started using the hands like they were his own. It took some concentration to not use his actual hands when using the magical ones.
Varian made the hands move to grab a crate in each hand and carry them into the house through the windows he had opened previously. Careful not to bump into any of the crates they already brought up, Varian blindly felt for a free spot to place them.
“Wow, you're doing it! These are the biggest things I’ve seen you move with your magic,” Hugo sounded amazed as he watched the crates float away through the window.
The few people on the street stopped and watched as Varian made two more crates float into their new house. Varian tried hard to ignore the mummers that were starting and the pointing of some people. He preferred attention for his inventions much more that attention for his magic.
While Varian was busy with the crates Hugo unbuckled Prometheus from his cart and moved the cart to the side of the road. Hugo tied Prometheus to a pole and grabbed the still half full bucket of oat mix that they had used on the road to feed Prometheus. He placed this besides Prometheus' head, making sure the donkey could reach it.
Varian moved the last two crates from the cart and Ruddiger jumped out, now that his hiding spot was compromised. Ruddiger jumped from the cart to Prometheus’ back to the street and quickly b-lined towards the bucket of oats.
“No,” Hugo said sternly. “That's for Prometheus. You already had your snack, Ruddiger.”
The raccoon gave a huff that sounded like a sigh of irritation and walked away from the bucket.
More people gathered as Varian moved the last few crates into their house. He was thankful that no one had come up to them yet. Varian dismissed the hands and quickly made a line for the stairs leading to the front door.
“Shouldn't you say hi to your admirers?” Hugo asked jokingly, pointing at the people who had gathered a little away.
“No, I don't think so,” Varian said and quickly moved up the stairs, cheeks burning bright.
Hugo laughed as the people skittled off after being pointed out for staring. He followed Girda who moved up the stairs as well. There he found Varian who plopped down on one of the crates and covered his flustered face.
“Ugh,” Varian's frustration sounded through his hands. “Why did they stop to stare?”
“It wasn't that bad, right?” Hugo asked. “People have stared at us before,” Hugo said as he sat down next to Varian and pressed his elbow in Varian's side. “And this was survivable, right?”
“I guess so,” Varian moved his hands away from his face, his cheeks still a little redder than normal. “I'm just glad no one came up to us to interrogate us.”
“See,” Hugo said.
“And now that-,” Girda was cut short by the sound of someone running up the stairs.
All three of them snapped their heads towards the door that was still open. A young person bumped into the wall at the end of the stairs before turning and standing right at the opening of the door. A person with short curly black hair and olive skin entered the house. Their brown eyes stood wide with excitement and they leaned over as they were clearly out of breath.
“I heard,” they started but needed to catch their breath. “There was,” another pause. “A magic user here!” they looked up, determination in their eyes.
“Errr what?” Varian asked.
“Who are you?” Hugo asked.
Girda just pulled at his left eyebrow in bemused confusion.
“Oh, right,” The person stood straight. “My name is Wynne and I rushed over here when my friend told me that she saw someone use magic in the street by her house. I wanted to meet you. So, who is it? Who of you uses magic?”
“Oh uhm” Varian got up and awkwardly held up his hand. “I guess that would be me. I used magic to move our belongings into our house.”
“Oh, you must be new here!” They rushed over to Varian shaking his hand. “Welcome to Aberdeen! Are all three of you moving in here?” they looked around at the two others standing in the room.
“Ah, no I'm just here to help,” Girda said. “I've lived here for a long time already.”
“Yeah, it’s just us who are new in town here. My name is Hugo,” Hugo said, getting up as well and slinging an arm around Varian. “And this here is my fiancé, Varian. He's the magical one.”
“Don't call me that,” Varian stuttered, cheeks back to being red.
“What, you said yes,” Hugo said, in faux indignity. “We even swapped rings and everything!”
“I wasn't talking about calling me your fiancé and you damn well know it,” Varian said, jabbing into Hugo's side with his elbow.
“So that means it's true that you can do magic, right!?” Wynne said before Hugo could continue teasing Varian.
“Yes,” Varian informed. “I can cast spells and such.”
“That's amazing!” the person clambered their fists together in excitement and bounced slightly on the spot. They reminded Varian of Yong but a bit older. “I knew it was possible for humans to do magic! I keep telling my dads! But they won't listen. But Princess Rapunzel or, well, uhm Queen Rapunzel now, from Corona, she had magic. And rumors have it that her best friend also had magic for a while. And now you! So, tell me, how did you learn it? Or did you gain it? Where can one obtain magic? Do you need to do some epic trial to earn it? Oh! Maybe it's a chosen-one kind of thing! No, it would be weird for two friends to be both chosen, right? Dragons! Maybe dragons give you magic? I've heard rumors of dragons. But I don't think they like humans very much. So, that would rule out dragons, I guess. How about-”
“Aaand we'll stop you there, missy,” Hugo cut in before they could start another idea. “I think it would be faster if you listen to the answer instead of rattling off your theories.”
“Oh! Sorry! I tend to ramble when I get excited,” they said, face flushing red. “Also, I'm not a missy,” they added before continuing. “I've been researching magical people for a while now, but my dads won't let me travel to the capital to try and find more books in the Capital's library. We only have books about Lord Demanitus here and well, he's an interesting man and the idea of being able to be like him one day is like a dream come true, though I do want to know more about others like him from this time.”
“Well, there is a big difference between Lord Demanitus and Varian, you must know,” Girda said, gesturing to Varian. “Lord Demanitus used magic through his inventions, harnessing magic that was already imbedded in items or crystals. Varian is a human who has magic innately inside of him. He doesn't rely on items and such.”
Wynne's eyes went big. "H-how do you know that?” Varian was sure their eyes were about to pop out of their head if they grew any bigger. “No book I ever read mentioned that. I always thought he was a real full-fledged magic user!”
“Well, he was a magic user in the sense that he used magic. He himself just wasn't the source of his magic,” Varian explained.
“Okay, okay,” Wynne said, cupping their chin with their hand as they mulled over the information in their head. “So, how come you do have magic?”
“Oh well, it's quite a long story, I guess. But the short answer is that I was born with it,” Varian answered.
“Ah shit!” Wynne shouted. “I had hoped you could have taught me how to get magic!”
“Why is it that you seek magic?” Girda asked.
“Oh well, you see, my papa is sick,” Wynne explained. “I hoped to learn magic to heal him.”
“What happened to him?” Varian asked feeling solemn by the bad news.
“Well, daddy told me that papa just collapsed one day at work. No one knows for sure what is wrong with him. No doctor who has seen him could help him. We even had contact with some doctors from the capital but none knew anything about his symptoms,” Wynne explained.
“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear,” Varian said. “I'm not much of a healer myself, but I can give it a try if you want?”
“Really!? Would you do that for me!?”
“Of course!” Varian said and was instantly answered with Wynn jumping into his arms with a hug.
"Thank you so much!” they said, holding on tight to Varian. “Thank you, thank you!”
Varian awkwardly padded the person's back, not sure what to do with a practical stranger hugging him like this. “I- I can't promise anything, okay? As I said, I'm not specialized in healing.”
“Just the fact that you are willing to try,” Wynne started, voice muffled as they had their face pressed into Varian's chest. “That means everything to me.”
Varian gave a soft smile. “Well then, let's go see your papa.”
->\/<-
Wynne opened the door to their papa's room. Or at least the room he was resting in now. It was a small room with a simple one-person bed, a small drawer next to it and an old wooden closet. A small bouquet of wild flowers was placed on the drawers next to the bed and the curtains were open, letting in serene rays of sunlight.
The man laid on bed like he was sleeping peacefully, hands folded together on top of the blankets, breathing slowly. But his skin was pale and his breathing seemed just a bit too shallow to be normal.
“He's been like this ever since I found him on the bakery floor,” Wynne's dad explained. “He never wakes up or stirs. Feeding him liquids is the only thing I have managed so far. No doctor has been able to help us so far.”
Varian, Hugo and Girda stepped inside, Hugo staying behind a bit near the entrance of the room while Varian and Girda came closer to have a good look.
“I have very little medical knowledge, so I can tell you very little about what I think,” Varian said. “But I can try a healing spell.”
“If you could,” Wynne said.
Varian firmed his grip on his staff and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. He closed his eyes and willed his magic out of his hand and into the father laying before him. He moved his magic with the intention to heal, to mend what was broken and set right what was wrong. But he could feel that nothing much was happening. His magic returned to him but there was a small sliver of something somewhere. He could feel a pull and he wasn't sure what it was. So, he moved his magic around further, trying to keep fine control over it. The pull became very strong and suddenly the image of a black hole sucking in his magic filled his mind. It was suddenly like his whole being was pulled in. His senses screamed at him to pull back, to let go.
He pulled his hand back with a big gasp, stumbling back like he had pulled his arm free from someone's hold. Everyone in the room stared at him, questions clear in their eyes.
“What happened?” Girda asked.
“Did you heal my papa?” Wynne asked.
Varian pressed his fingers against his forehead, trying to push out the image of the black hole, push away the feeling of having barely survived the encounter with that black hole. His heart was racing still and he could feel his magic grow in the buzz of panic.
Hugo had seemingly materialized in front of Varian and pulled Varian into an embrace. Varian leaned in, grounding himself. He took a few deep breaths and felt his heart calm down. He looked up to see Hugo looking down at him. Their height difference, however small, never fading.
“Are you okay?” Hugo asked, his voice warm and comforting to Varian.
“Yes, I am now,” Varian answered. “I'm not sure what happened,” He directed himself at the other people in the room. “But there is something going on with your husband and papa. I couldn't heal him, there didn’t seem to be anything to heal. But there was something inside him. I'm not sure...”
Girda frowned in concern. He turned to Wynne and their dad, “Could we please have the room for a moment? We need to discuss something.”
Wynne's father looked a bit worried for a moment before nodding and leaving. Wynne lingered a second longer before following their father.
The moment the door closed Girda moved to the sleeping man. “What did you feel, Varian?” he asked, hovering his hand over the man's torso.
“It's hard to put into words. My magic and I were being pulled in. A dark hole dragging me further and further. It was a bit scary, actually,” Varian explained.
Girda's hand stopped above the man's chest and Girda looked back to Varian for a moment. “I'm going to try and find it,” he said before placing his hand down.
The room was quiet for a moment before Girda too pulled his hand back. He seemed less disheveled than Varian but there had been a clear jerk to his movement. His stoic face turned serious as he turned to Varian and Hugo.
“This man is missing his soul. That is what you were feeling. The emptiness where the soul should be pulling you in in an attempt to fill the void,” Girda explained. “I've never seen anything like this before or ever read about people losing their souls. Not like this. His body is fine and living on. But his being is gone.”
“I uhm, so, can we help, or something?” Varian stuttered, trying to find his words. “I mean, is there something we can do?”
Girda hummed. “Not that I know off. But we can definitely ask around in the Fae planes. Maybe someone knows what's going on. But I doubt we can really do much beyond that. And even that we can't really tell Wynne or her father.”
“So, we'll just tell them that we'll see if we can find some info, or something?” Varian said.
“I would watch out with getting their hopes up too much. They might hold it against you if you can’t help them in the end,” Girda warned. “Humans tend to see magic as an easy fix for all their problems and are only more disappointed when it isn't.”
Varian nodded. “Okay, I'll keep that in mind.”
Girda opened the door and beckoned Wynne and their father back in.
“And, did you figure it out?” Wynne asked.
“Well, we know what the problem is,” Varian started. “But we don't have a solution.”
“What is the problem?” Wynne's father asked.
“We concluded that your husband and father is missing his soul,” Girda answered. “We're puzzled by how this could have happened. But it does explain all the evidence. His body is healthy and unharmed, yet he's not quite alive either.”
Wynne's face fell with horror. “D-does that mean, h-he's dead?” their voice cracked.
Varian looked away, seeing the pain in their face reminded him a bit too much about his own pain of losing his mother all over again only a year ago.
“No, not really,” Girda said, voice tentative. “His body is still alive and functioning. The problem is that the thing that makes your papa, papa is gone.”
“So can we get him back?” Wynne's father sounded stoic, but Varian could see the cracks of grief in his façade.
“We can try and see if we can find some more information. But I'm very ill-equipped to deal with such a complex situation. I have very little knowledge about souls,” Varian explained.
“Soul magic is a very under researched kind of magic due to its complexity. We'll do our best in research but can't make any promises, I'm afraid,” Girda explained.
“Well, we do know more now than we did before,” Wynne's father said. “At the very least I know what I can research, in hopes of finding a cure.”
“Thank you for helping us,” Wynne said.
“I wish I could have done more,” Varian said.