Chapter Text
It was just luck really.
He would have gone on like he was, burning inside and out, but he got lucky. It was just another day going through his grandfather’s things, praying for an answer or some small amount of hope. He picked up one of the books and flipped through its worn pages.
The book, “An Unofficial History of Avalor” was probably illegal to own.
Maybe they would come and kill us if they found it.
There were a lot of things hidden in the house. It had belonged to a royal wizard and owning any of his things was probably breaking the law. The house was safe because of his magic. They would never know it was there, just like how they never knew he was there.
The book was handwritten, which was the strange thing about it, almost as if Alacazar had written it himself. It followed the history of Avalor, but specifically its royal wizards. It talked about how Avalor was different because the wizards weren’t owned by the royal family, but just worked for them. They were almost considered royalty themselves, and they were once Alacazar became one.
His bond with the royal family changed history and at the time of his death they were working on changing a lot of things. There was going to be a school for wizards, he would work on finding those with magic of both kinds and teaching them to use it. If it worked, they would even try to extend it to other kingdoms. All of this was written in his book.
So much of it focused on him and the plans that were being made at the time. At least the parts that Mateo had read. How often had he read those sections dreaming of what he could be. It just felt hollow now. None of his plans had really happened. It was all empty promises because another magic user who should have been supporting him decided to ruin everything.
A lot of the book was too difficult to read. He didn’t want to think more about the ways things were ruined for people like him. He didn’t want to know how much things hadn’t changed since the times before there were royal wizards and they had to practice in secret. He didn’t want to know how even after that they were basically just slaves. He didn’t want to know how they basically still did that in most other countries even now. He didn’t want to know why so many of those early pages were bookmarked.
Reading about his grandfather just hurt. He couldn’t get anything from reading the ending of the book anyway. He couldn’t stand the way it just cut off so suddenly. Maybe he should at least learn some of the early days. For the first time in years, he flipped to the beginning of the book. He went to the first page that was bookmarked, what was so important here?
The page itself was nothing special, something about how Avalorans had started learning magic from studying Maruvian ruins. There were weird scribbles in the margins. Some of it was legible, but some of it seemed to be another language. The symbols made no sense, but he moved on to the next page that was bookmarked.
More symbols.
He got a piece of paper, ignoring the way it curled slightly at his touch. And started writing down the symbols and the notes next to them. He went through all of the pages with bookmarks, even the ones he had read before and writing down every symbol he could find. Some were big and obvious; others were small and tucked into corners.
When he finished there was a small collection on his page. He didn’t know why, but he knew there was something about them that he needed to understand. The fire got hotter like how it used to with his mother. The fire is trying to get out and it knows that more is nearby. It pushed at his skin, but he couldn’t tear himself away.
Not knowing the symbols would have been fine, but the notes next to them didn’t make sense either.
Maybe it’s magic.
He didn’t dare hope for it, but it had to mean something. His mother wouldn’t be home for a while, so he had time. He took the sheet down to the basement and sat down. The basement was creepy, but it was better than doing this in the house. When he looked down at the paper again it had curled more, and the symbols had started to glow.
Why does it feel so right?
He ran his hand along the symbols, and they glowed brighter before going out.
Maybe it’s a spell.
It couldn’t be. He wrote out the notes by themselves. The letters didn’t make any words he knew, but maybe it was magic. The pull wasn’t as strong when he wrote the letters, but it was still there. He tried saying the strange word out loud. It didn’t sound quite right but he could feel something within himself. He tried again, this time with his hand running over the symbols.
The glow got brighter, filling the whole basement. When it cleared, it didn’t look much different. The basement was still them same, until he noticed a shelf that wasn’t there before.
It had more books on it. He picked one up and saw more of the symbols and more notes. He realized that they were spells like the one he had just done.
I just did magic!
The basement felt more alive than it ever had. Any fear he had of being here was gone. He looked around the room as he could feel the magic still alive from every angle.
There was a strong presence coming from a box under the shelf. He opened the box as quickly as he could even as his hands were shaking and his eyes blurred with tears that for once didn’t boil against his skin.
In the box there were a few more objects, but he instantly knew which one was calling him. It looked like a drum attached to a wand, kind of like the tamboritas he had seen in pictures of wizards. He picked it up and immediately knew this one was his.
He heard his mother getting home and knew he couldn’t stay here long. He hurriedly put the tamborita back in the box and ran upstairs. For the first time in years he hugged his mother. He didn’t tell her what he had done, and she didn’t ask. As he hugged her, he realized that for the first time ever the burning had begun to fade.