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The Dark Wizard Gilbert was beaming. In his hands was a pastel-pink box, and inside that box was a gooey, moist, delicious chocolate cake, drizzled with fudge and topped with a flourish of freshly-chopped strawberries. He held the box carefully as he stepped over rocks and narrowly avoided catching his pants on the thick undergrowth.
"Ludwig! Luddy!" He called. "You will not believe what I have! You know how much you love Adela's little cakes? Well, did she have a surprise when I dropped by!"
He broke through the greenery and sighed happily at the sight of the old stone tower called Piyo Fortress. Gilbert had lived here ever since the Dark Wizard Fritz rescued him from executioners and taught him the basics of fairy magic. It was his true, forever home. He'd plotted and schemed and eaten so many delicious cakes in this tower, he couldn't even count.
"Gilbert?"
Gilbert looked around, but he couldn't find the source of the voice. It was then when he saw something frighteningly red come dashing from behind the chicken coop. Despite being such a wicked and powerful wizard, Gilbert was not immune to loneliness. Living with him was his little brother Ludwig. Gilbert loved Ludwig with all his heart, and the small boy of seven could only return it.
"Don't crash into me! This is fragile!" Gilbert barked.
The child created clouds of dust when his little shoes scraped into the sun-baked earth. It was late July — the hottest month of the year — and Gilbert couldn't help but frown when he noticed Ludwig was furiously sunburned. His face, neck, and arms were all as red as the strawberries on the cake. Whether Ludwig noticed this was a mystery, as he was excitedly tugging on Gilbert's shirt and bouncing up and down. Perhaps the cake should wait until later, Gilbert thought.
"It happened! I felt it! I know it happened!"
"What happened, Luddy?"
"I changed! Just like you!"
Oh, this was precious. Too precious for words. Gilbert pushed open the large stone door of the tower and quickly stowed the cake box away in the potion-cooled cupboard. Then he trudged up the stairs to his second floor bedroom, his brother trailing faithfully behind. He would definitely save the cake for later with how sugared-up Ludwig was already acting. "I know it happened! You should've seen! My feet felt funny! I think they were turning scaly—"
"Calm yourself, Lud. I'll hear all about it, but first let me shed this ugly human shape. I only kept it after leaving the village to carry the cake box, and—"
"Cake box!? You have a cake? I want some! Please don't eat it all this time, Gilbert! You never let me have more than a slice! You always gobble it all up—"
"Ludwig!"
The child was silent.
"Who am I right now?"
"Gilb—"
"No, who am I right now?"
Ludwig hesitated before answering. His brows furrowed with impatience. "You're Wilhelm."
"That's right. Now keep your mouth closed for just a second. I need to get comfortable."
Ludwig did his best to put on a patient expression. He could be wonderfully respectful and reserved when he needed to be. Gilbert's heart swelled at the sight of the boy. Ludwig was a swap-child, a human who had been taken from his family as a baby so an ailing, love-starved changeling could be put in his place. Gilbert hadn't the privilege of meeting whoever had dropped him off on the tower's doorstep one cold December night, but he quickly grew attached to the babe and decided to raise him as his own little brother. Ludwig would make Gilbert proud. He would become the only awesome human in existence.
But Gilbert was distracted. He could give his full attention to Ludwig after he'd transformed and put on some clean clothes. He reached his arms toward the ceiling and visualized his shape changing little by little. There soon came a delightfully warm and tingly feeling that spread beneath his skin and seeped through his every bone, nerve, and muscle. Magic.
He suddenly felt very squeezed all over. Looking down, he saw his skin losing all color and growing tighter and tighter while toned muscle withered away into nothing. It grew especially tight around his abdomen, and he could feel his firm stomach sinking beneath his ribs. Platinum blond hair thinned and faded to the color of snow. His eyes, in turn, swirled out of their striking blue color and into a deep, bloody red.
With a few faint pops, his fingers grew long and knobbly, and his nails sharpened until they resembled claws. Gilbert crossed his eyes to see his nose growing perfectly long and pointed, and with a rush of itchy heat, his human ears stretched to become long and sharp like daggers. His cheekbones surfaced, and his chin pulled to a devilish point. His teeth then sharpened one by one, becoming crooked and yellowed. Little fangs hung just a bit lower than the rest.
Gilbert examined his true form when all changes were complete. He was gaunt, bony, and pale as death — the sickly constitution of a changeling in the flesh. As always, Ludwig looked awestruck. It was going to be very difficult to tell him that humans couldn't change shape or weave music into spells. Magic intrigued him like nothing else. It was the one thing his science books failed to completely comprehend, and that made it all the more interesting.
He took the time to slip off the sweat-soaked clothes and put on an outfit that was a bit more form-fitting, (though nothing was really small enough to fit snugly around his scrawny frame.) Feeling once again comfortable, Gilbert's smirk stretched, and he ran his spidery fingers through the boy's hair. "Who am I now?"
"Big brother!" Ludwig exclaimed. He threw his arms around the changeling's middle in a welcoming hug. "Gilbert, I was watching the chickens! I remember you telling me that when you want to become something else, you have to stare intense… intensely?"
"Intently."
"Right, right. Intently! So I was staring at the chickens. I was trying to picture myself changing, and I felt my feet turning scaly! It didn't last for very long, but I know it happened."
Gilbert sighed. No matter how quixotic Ludwig became about magic, such extraordinary changes were impossible. Humans just weren't magical creatures. They could use wands, staffs, amulets, or other items to grant them powers over nature, but Gilbert hadn't the knowledge to teach Ludwig about these items, and he would rather err on the side of Ludwig not acting on the ambition to become a wizard anytime soon. He didn't need Ludwig telling the villagers anything suspicious about the man they knew only as the friendly and indigent Wilhelm.
"Luddy," he said, "you're all burnt up from the sun! You know how dangerous it is to be outside in July without proper protection. It has to be at least thirty degrees out, and you're as red as a woodpecker's crest! Did you even think to wear a hat?"
Ludwig looked down at his reddened arms. He gave a frown at this, as if internally berating himself for the simplest mistake. He was so… responsible at such a young age. His parents must have been the most serious, no-nonsense people in Volkerburg.
"I'm sorry, brother. It won't happen again. I will make sure of it."
Gilbert's smirk softened into a loving little smile. He was so smart as well. Always picking up on new words and reading whenever he could. Gilbert supposed he had rubbed off on the boy. With no one to lean on after the Dark Wizard Fritz disappeared, Gilbert had read and studied until his eyes burned and his brain was about to burst. It had paid off, he thought to himself. He now reigned as the Dark Wizard Gilbert, a changeling in disguise striking fear into the hearts of those who opposed magic… and really any humans in general. In Gilbert's mind, they were all better off cursed.
"Mistakes help us learn," he told Ludwig. "Don't feel guilty. The pain from those burns is precedent enough. Now, tell me why you were trying to take the shape of a chicken."
"Er, because we have chickens. They don't fly away when I go near them."
"And do you want to be a chicken? They're lovely birds, but they're not very strong or impressive. The losers of the bird world, if you will."
"I want to do magic like you. You can transform into anything!"
Gilbert laughed as he guided the boy back to the staircase. It was a raspy laugh that crackled and sparked with mirth. "I can't transform into just anything. Only other people and animals, and only when I can see them, unless I've memorized the shape. I can't turn into spirits, plants, inanimate objects—"
"But you can transform! And you can make magic happen when you play your flute!"
"Of course. I'm a fairy of darkness. Such magic is natural to me."
"And what about me, Gilbert? When will my human magic start working like it should? When will I be able to change shape completely and cast spells? I must have a lot of potential with you as my big brother."
The changeling put a hand to his chest. If only things like that were true. He could always weave a dark spell to grant Ludwig some of his own magic, but he had promised long ago never to work spells on the boy, lest they end up hurting him. Ludwig wasn't even allowed down in the cellar where Gilbert kept his most dangerous spellbooks and potion ingredients. (And he didn't need the boy finding his diary!)
What to tell him? That he was simply flesh and bone with nothing extraordinary imbued within? That there was no fantastic energy sparking in his heart and flowing through his veins? That his rounded ears signified a mundane life untouched by the secrets of the universe? Oh, the boy was cursed already. Believing he could have something he just couldn't. The stars bless his pure little soul.
Instead of further pondering such bleak subjects, Gilbert decided to shrug off the question once more. "You must wait until you're older," he said. "But good work on trying today. Really, though, you should be more creative than a chicken." Gilbert's conscience raged. Of course Ludwig would understand when he was older. Just leave it at that.
"Well, we don't own any dogs that look like sausages, do we? That's what I would change into."
"You know I'm not going to let a dog into this tower. It would knock me flat on my back and scare away the birds," Gilbert sternly put.
"Why do you love birds so much?"
"Birds are like people in a way. Each species has a different personality. Owls are curious, eagles are proud, chickens are skittish, crows are careless, and swallows are messy. It's fun to watch all of them go about their daily business like we do. And you can pet them!"
"Does that mean I can pet you when you change into a black eagle?"
"Oh, no, no, no. Very sharp talons… Er, you're old enough, I suppose. If you just pet my feathers, I don't think I'll snap at you."
"You're too protective of me," Ludwig laughed. "Now, I want to have some cake! If that pink box you had was a cake box, it was from Adela. Let's eat it before it melts!"
"Ah-ah. No cake for you."
"Why not?"
Ludwig looked genuinely concerned, as if the subject of whether or not he received cake was a philosophy to be pondered for centuries forth. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the boy's reddened face. The cool, icy blue of his eyes stuck out so sharply against the red. Gilbert saw a growing sense of power in those eyes, and he jokingly wondered whether Ludwig would ever grow taller than him.
Gilbert knew the boy would take the burns to heart and always exercise caution from then on, but there was still something endearing about him not being so practiced and perfect. He was still a child, yet to experience the intricacies and horrors of the real world. Yet to care about things like revenge or reputation, carnage or corruption, anger or affiliation. There was something precious in the fact that he grew so much slower than a fairy of darkness, and Gilbert finally saw this.
Perhaps Ludwig could believe he had magic just a bit longer. After all, there was no harm done, was there? He was a child with a childhood. Gilbert never had such a luxury. He was nearly executed for wanting a human child to play with him…
"I was just kidding," Gilbert burst in his fit of bad memories. "You can have one slice. Maybe two if you want, but you have to get to bed later even if you're not tired. I'm warning you."
"I will! But please don't eat it all! I know changelings have big appetites, but if you save some for later, you can enjoy it for so much longer."
"I can enjoy it longer? Why, thank you for the advice. You're so smart."
"No, Gilbert!"
Gilbert took out the cake box and a knife. The cake was a bit lopsided; it looked like the heat had melted some of it after all, but looks came after flavor, and Gilbert took no time at all in carving two slivers of cake for Ludwig and a third of it for himself. Ludwig seemed peeved by the disparity, but he didn't protest. Gilbert then poured a glass of milk for each of them out of the bottle he'd also brought home, and they sat at the table across from each other like they always did.
"To health," Gilbert said, raising his glass.
"To magic," Ludwig said.
Gilbert's heart twinged again, but he clinked his glass with his little brother's and enjoyed every drop of the cold liquid flowing down his throat. A little light beer would've been better, but he wasn't going to tempt Ludwig with that yet. Better to keep him completely from some things, at least.
Ludwig told him how he had spent the day with the chickens and tried to change his shape. He described how he scrutinized their feathery wings, then looked at his own hands and tried to press his fingers so tightly together that they might merge and sprout feathers themselves.
He had also gone on a walk during the day. A short promenade around the environs of the tower. He'd seen several baby birds who were growing large enough to leave their nests and fly. He'd also had the privilege of seeing a singular golden eagle high above the treeline. This was lucky, Gilbert mused.
Gilbert then told of his day. How he'd gone into the village once again pretending to be Poor Orphaned Wilhelm who lived alone in the country with his brother. While it annoyed him, he made sure to tell Ludwig what everyone was doing, from Adela, Ludwig's old nurse, to little Thomas, the printer's apprentice.
He explained how one family was moving to the Republic of Amotoile, (omitting the details about them leaving to escape the Dark Wizard's scrutiny,) and how three young women had collapsed from the heat so far this week. And of course, he had to tell Ludwig about Old Frau Handschuh, the milliner, and how she was growing battier by the day.
"I swear, she's made the ugliest bonnet yet. It has two giant feathers on top that make her look like she has horns when she puts it on. Someone needs to take the needle out of her wrinkly hands before she sews herself the whole zoo."
Ludwig laughed and laughed. There had been far too many an occasion where both brothers had gone to visit Old Frau Handschuh, only for her to try her creations out on "Wilhelm".
"And no, I didn't buy any hats this time. She's lost her persuasive edge."
The boy wheezed at this. His face had gone from red to almost purple, and his blue eyes were welling up with tears. No doubt he was picturing his brother politely refusing to buy a hat when the old woman hobbled after him with huge, feathered bonnets and the scent of powdery-rosey perfume.
"Oh, don't laugh at me!" Gilbert cried. "I'll eat the rest of your cake!"
But Ludwig laughed until he clutched at his ribs and his cheeks were sticky with tears. Gilbert took the pleasure of wolfing down what Ludwig hadn't touched and wiping his lips with his hand. Where was all this joyful mockery coming from? Gilbert had looked splendid in some of those hats!
Ludwig didn't care about the missing cake, having enjoyed what he'd already indulged in. Once his fit of laughter had subsided, he helped to pump some water into the sink and partook in washing the dishes.
"Cake for supper," Gilbert mused.
Ludwig gave him a look like that statement was as weightless as the bubbles.
Gilbert wrapped his arms around Ludwig, freshly-bathed and in his pajamas, and squeezed with all his might. The child squeezed back, though more gently to avoid hurting the fragile fairy. The changeling then smiled as he pulled the covers up over the little boy. Through the window, far in the distance, the golden-red marble of the sun pressed down on the horizon. The summer hours boasted longer days, but it was past Ludwig's bedtime.
"One more story?" The child pleaded. "Please read the one where Ludwig von Vegel fights the Tiny-yet-Terrible Dragon! Or the one where he's saved by the Wand of Never-Ending Life? Or tell me the old stories about the time when all the fair folk were at peace in the forest together—"
Gilbert smirked. "You promised you would go to bed when it was bedtime, and it's past your bedtime. Besides, the story about Ludwig von Vegel and the Great Beast is enough adventure for tonight."
"I want to be a wizard like him. I want to break the spell on the Great Beast, too, so he can turn into a prince and rescue the peasants from the fire-breathing dragons—"
"Wizards know when to sleep," Gilbert mused.
He drew the curtains over the harsh glare of sunset and gave one last grin to the boy before descending the spiral staircase. It was when he reached the first floor when he sighed, and his smile evaporated. "Why did I name him that? I can't teach him wizardry. I wouldn't know how, and it would put both of us in danger. He's too young to know what danger is.
"But will he hate me when he learns the truth? I suppose when he's older I could find him a tutor, but we'd have to be so secretive. Plus, humans are so reckless with magic. What if the tutor is incompetent and teaches him something that could seriously hurt him?"
Gilbert grumbled more like this as he pulled open the trapdoor to the cellar and descended further. The potent scent of herbs hit his nose, and he coughed. Some of them were poisonous to changelings, but potions and curses demanded the strangest of ingredients sometimes, and Gilbert was forced to work with them.
He hummed one high note, and candles all around the room flared to life. A huge, circular depression was in the center of the floor, remnants of chalk scattered about the edges. The walls were lined with bookshelves. Some were crammed with books and coated with dust, others were somewhat messy from frequent browsing, and one shelf was marked with a piece of parchment reading "Fritz's Books! Don't Read!" These, of course, were the books which contained the dangerous and horrendous curses of Gilbert's predecessor, and he dared not even touch them out of reverence and fear.
He strode to two hooks on the wall and took from one of them a shimmery black and blue robe — the signature costume of the dark wizard Gilbert. He slipped it on over his clothes and threw up the hood. The fabric felt cool and slick. Now he was more respectfully dressed for working magicks.
On the way to select a cauldron from a low shelf, he passed by his open diary on the writing desk. Gilbert took a bit of time to jot down some notes about his day. Then he opened another menacing black tome. On the current page was a list entitled "People to Curse". Gilbert skimmed to the bottom and scrawled with a black eagle's quill: "Old Frau Handschuh — feathers or horns."
The potionery cookbook he selected from a frequent shelf was bookmarked with ribbons of every color and width. It was a medicinal book, and he'd used it for Ludwig's every cough and chill since the child had been a babe in his arms. It was written for human wizards, (fairies could not become ill, of course,) but this made it easier for Gilbert, as he didn't need all the extra magical equipment for changing bodily energy into magical. He turned to a page marked with a red ribbon.
~Midsummer Moon Brew~
A simple burn remedy brewed and stirred under the light of the moon.
Potency depends on the phase of the moon. Fuller is stronger.
To be taken in small doses until all affected skin is cured.
The recipe was written under this, along with an incantation for lexical wizards and an energy-twisting diagram for physical wizards. Gilbert was neither of these, but Fritz had taught him to translate diagrams into melodies, and within an hour, he had translated this diagram into a single page of music to be played on his flute.
With this settled, he skimmed over the list of ingredients, making sure he had everything he needed. Aloe vera was no surprise, but he couldn't help but laugh at its mundane presence among more magical ingredients. Gilbert took the cauldron and expertly dashed from cupboard to drawer, shelf to floor, taking dried leaves and sparkling vials and lizard claws. When the little pot was full, he stacked the book on top of it and struggled to make his way up through the trapdoor onto the first floor of the tower. He wouldn't need to brew this potion in a stuffy cellar, and it was a great relief to realize it.
Said relief disappeared immediately when he saw a moonlit wraith climbing onto the counter and trying to reach the cooled cupboard.
"What are you doing up?" Gilbert asked with a high, hissing tone.
The child froze. His head slowly turned to meet with Gilbert's less-than-amused countenance.
"So responsible, and yet I find you trying to steal cake. You're still too late, Ludwig. I ate the rest of it while you were taking your bath."
Ludwig was instantly in a fit of childish whining. "Why did you have to eat it? You always eat it!"
"You always get first choice of a slice," Gilbert argued. "And you know eating excessive calories is good for me. I need my strength. Changing shape takes an incredible amount of energy."
"I spent all day trying to change my shape! I should be able to have some, too!"
"Oh, Luddy Tauschlein… " The changeling sighed. Not having the strength to lift his brother off the counter, Gilbert instead beckoned him down respectfully. Ludwig took one look in the cupboard to confirm the cake really was gone before sadly sliding off and trudging embarrassed back to the staircase. He was about to begin ascending when he noticed the cauldron filled with mysterious items.
"Are you going to make a potion? What for? Can I help? I can stir it!"
Gilbert tensed. Oh, why had he allowed Ludwig to see him? His sensitive ears should've alerted him to the boy's presence before he ascended the trapdoor stairs completely. It was true potionery only demanded a small amount of spell-weaving, but it was still a magical art with its wonders and dangers. It required a careful eye and a trained hand and a mind that understood the nature of magic. And to understand magic, Ludwig had to learn about magic… which he couldn't. Gilbert's mind reeled. What to say? How to say it? He was supposed to be good at improvisation!
His impulsive dark nature got the best of him. "Only trained wizards can make potions," he told the boy evasively.
"I want to be a wizard! Can't you teach me?"
That would only encourage him! He couldn't have that! "Oh no, I can't teach you, Ludwig. You don't have magic like I do, and I don't understand how human wizards operate with their reckless wand-waving and..."
Gilbert clapped a hand over his mouth. Oh… oh dear… he'd worded that very wrong. His blood ran cold when he saw a tiny sadness surface in the child's face. Ludwig looked down at his little human hands like they had failed him.
"Gilbert... do... do I not have any powers like you?"
"Of course you do! They just haven't manifested yet! They're different from mine, and there's no telling when they'll pop up." No, no, no! He was lying again! Why would he say such a thing?
"But you said magic is natural for you because you're a fairy of darkness. I'm not even a fairy of anything."
"Yes, it is natural for me because of that. And no, maybe you don't have... fairy magic. But you can still learn to use magic! I'll find you a tutor when you're older, and you can learn to read out of spellbooks with a wand!"
"A wand… reckless wand-waving. So that means I don't have any powers at all. They'll never appear. I'm a human, and humans aren't magical. Gilbert, you lied."
There were times when Gilbert admired Ludwig's analytical mind and times when he wished the boy wouldn't look into details as much as he did. Seriously, where had he been taken from? Was his father a celebrated mathematician or something? Seven was young for a human, wasn't it? It seemed like every day he would tell Gilbert about some new and worldly subject he'd read about.
But magic couldn't be entirely explained. It evaded scientific reasoning in little black holes and blind spots, and Ludwig craved to understand it as much as the universe would allow. Gilbert displaying his extraordinary powers wasn't helping to suppress those cravings.
"So I wasn't really changing earlier like I thought," the boy whispered. "I was wondering why Ludwig von Vegel always needs some grand item to become powerful. He's always compared to the fairies, too. He can use magic, and the fairies are magic." Ludwig reached up to trace around the accursed curved cartilage of his ears. Then his shoulders dipped like the whole world had failed him. Slowly, he turned and began to trudge up the spiral staircase. He was almost to the second floor when Gilbert reacted to his little revelation. He just couldn't say no to that heartbroken expression on his brother's face. Just this once, Gilbert decided. Just this once.
"Ludwig, come down here."
The boy shook his head. "It's past my bedtime. I shouldn't be up this late."
"For Darkness' sake, Ludwig, get down here. You're not at an age to act all mopey about something like this. You're going to help me make this potion whether you like it or not, whether you're magical or not, and whether it will teach you anything or not."
Ludwig gripped the railing, looking ready to bolt up the stairs out of sheer disappointment, but Gilbert must have gotten through to him. A small smile was spreading on his reddened face.
"But making potions is a magical art, isn't it?"
"It's as magical as the substances it creates, but there's only a little bit of spell-working involved, if that's what you mean. I can play my flute for that part. You wanted to stir it, didn't you?"
The precocious moodiness vanished immediately, and Ludwig was all smiles as he flew down the stairs and picked up the cauldron in his arms. "What is it for? Is it for your curses? Who are you cursing? Do you need feathers for it? I know where to find feathers!"
Gilbert snickered knowingly. "It's to cure your sunburns, Tauschlein. You didn't think I was going to let you suffer, did you? When we've got magic on our side, we needn't succumb to pains we can easily assuage."
"I wish you would take better care of your health, then!"
"What are you talking about? I'm as strong and spry as a young pheasant!" Gilbert scoffed. He then clenched his throat and coughed out a grinding pheasant's crow.
"I thought you were an eagle."
"That too," Gilbert said. He screeched.
Before he brought Ludwig out, Gilbert returned to the cellar and brought up a long black robe. This was in fact the same robe he'd found Ludwig wrapped in all those years ago when he was first left in Gilbert's hands. He gave it to the boy and smiled.
Outside, the two of them built a small fire in the fire pit. Mosquitoes buzzed in their ears and bit at their ankles. Gilbert's purplish blood killed them instantly, but they were more than content to feast upon Ludwig, and he swatted at them whenever they settled upon his skin. Above, the moon was nearly full. The potion would be powerful with this much light. The stars glittered like little diamonds keeping secrets from the earth and its peoples.
"All right, then. The base is firefly milk, so it will have to be stirred very fast at first so it doesn't burn," Gilbert instructed. He handed Ludwig a polished wooden stir stick and gestured to where the cauldron hung suspended over the fire.
"Milk from fireflies?"
"Milk with fireflies' wings and oils dissolved in it. And the recipe says stir counterclockwise until it pales considerably," Gilbert said. He took a jar and poured its glowing golden contents into the cauldron.
Ludwig nodded. He used both hands to work the firefly milk in careful, steady circles. It was thick like cream and left a milky sheen on the stick. He almost jerked the stick out when a mosquito landed on his neck. Gilbert shooed it away for him.
As he stirred, the firefly milk began to glow brighter under the moonlight, and its color lightened to a soft, pale yellow. Gilbert traced the next lines of the instructions with a clawed finger.
" 'Add Aythfire and stir clockwise until blue and red sparks hiss from the potion.' All right, Luddy. You stir, and I'll add it in. Now, be careful. It likes to explode under moonlight, and it can burn you."
Ludwig nodded. His face grew even more focused. Gilbert took a vial filled with red and blue crystal shards. He very slowly uncorked it and shoved the open vial in his pocket, covering it with his hands and the fabric. Then, with expert swiftness, he took a handful of the shards from his pocket and sprinkled them into the potion. Ludwig switched direction with his stirring. The firefly milk splashed a bit, but what frightened him was when the crystals of Aythfire met the moonlight. They burst into sparkling red and blue columns of fire that sank under their own weight and fell into the potion with hissing pops.
The potion was dyed red and blue, the colors marbling over the liquid and combining as Ludwig stirred. The potion hissed, and Ludwig had to stir even quicker so the columns of fire wouldn't reach his fingers. A hot coating of steam wafted up and condensed on his face, aggravating his burns, but the potion had taken on a wet, earthy, ashy scent that relaxed him into a state of rhythmic breathing and moving.
Until the potion turned completely white and started sparking.
"Take the stick out!" Gilbert warned.
Ludwig did, but not before a few sparks managed to burn his fingers. He sucked on them while Gilbert worked hastily to prop up his sheet music and position his fingers on his flute.
He played a melody, rhythmic and haunting, powerful and inspiring, artistic and flowing like moonlight and silk. He moved with the music as he played, and as each note passed from his lips into the instrument and out into the air, the potion reacted. It sparked even brighter and stronger. The red and blue sparks became a ghastly green. The potion bubbled and thickened, the unseen energy of the music changing it into a slimy, venomously green substance. Forks of light flashed across its surface, and as it slowed, the sparks died down into soft, crackling arcs of heat that weaved over and under each other.
While finishing a phrase, Gilbert gestured for Ludwig to take the stick again. The boy wiped it off before putting it back in the cauldron. Again he stirred counterclockwise. The sparks had become soft enough to mix into the glowing green brew and contribute to its luminescence.
"It's just boring for now until we add the Phithwind," Gilbert remarked. "Keep stirring, will you? It needs to be exposed to moonlight as much as possible so it can become rich and potent."
"How do you know so much about making potions?" Ludwig asked.
"I've spent a long time learning. Had to cure all those colds of yours, after all. How did you become so good at stirring, my little one?"
"You're always hungry for boiled potatoes."
Gilbert laughed. He hadn't expected such a direct answer, but he supposed the one he'd been given was perfectly valid and accurate. Oh, great darkness, what would Ludwig turn out like when he did grow up? Gilbert at least hoped he would keep his adorable smile and iron persistence.
Something about watching the boy stir relaxed Gilbert's mind. Maybe he'd overreacted. The boy was having fun with magic. Perhaps this was the only time he would allow Ludwig to assist him for a while, but not letting him help would only make him feel left out. And maybe when Ludwig was a little bigger and older, something could work out in his interests. He hadn't the vengeful anger to become the next Dark Wizard of Piyo Fortress, but he could always practice for fun.
Gilbert chopped some aloe vera leaves and squeezed the sticky green gel into the cauldron. He then added some shaved lizard claws and Minticer leaves that were frosted over even in the summer heat. The brew grew ever thicker while Ludwig struggled to maintain the steady circles of stirring.
"Need some help? This troubles me, too. Skinny arms are a burden," Gilbert said with a grin. The changeling placed his hands over the little human's, and together they stirred the potion until enough moonlight had soaked in to turn it from green to a gleaming blue.
"Right. Now the Phithwind. This should loosen it up a bit."
Gilbert took a little bottle of deep green dragonfly scales. With a confident hand, he let a glittering stream of them fall into the potion. A burst of heat exploded from the cauldron, and a searing gale whipped around the fire pit. It swirled up around the tower and wailed through the trees. The chickens squawked in their coop, and the owls hooted in rude surprise.
"I probably used too much," Gilbert squeaked. He coughed and wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead. His white hair was blown back into a crazy, matted mess. He saw that much the same had happened to Ludwig. The boy had fallen onto his bottom and was rubbing heat-induced sleepiness from his eyes. "Well, do you want to stir it? That was the last ingredient. I just need to play one more song to add my own magical energy into the potion."
"Okay," Ludwig said. He stood, and with the stick, he swirled the potion until it had turned a deep, fiery red color and bubbled excitedly under the moonlight.
Gilbert set up his next song. This one was much more driving, and even with a flute, he could create a sense of urgency and authority. There was strong anger in the piece, and a bit of sadness, and a power that matched no other. A red haze surrounded the changeling as he played — his own magic becoming tangible in the presence of his heart's true song.
Then he took the flute from his lips, holding one note long and proud in a hum. With two hands, he directed the red haze from his body into the cauldron. It hissed and sparked when it hit the potion, and the red liquid suddenly sparkled as if it were imbued with pure magic as well as moonlight. Ludwig continued to stir until it simmered down nicely.
"Is it done?" He asked.
"Perfectly-brewed and stirred," Gilbert affirmed. He took the cauldron off the hook it hung from and placed it on the ground next to the fire pit. "Help me clean up while it cools. We're supposed to let it soak up more moonlight anyway."
Soon enough, they had the area cleaned up, and the two of them took off their respective robes. Gilbert brought the sparkling red potion inside, and Ludwig helped to pour it into a glass at the table.
"Do I have to drink all of it?"
"It's to be taken in small doses until your burns have all disappeared. We'll save any that's left for another time. Nobody's perfect."
Ludwig looked embarrassed at this statement, but he was intrigued by the magical drink sitting in front of him.
"Well, go ahead. You won't be cured without it."
Gilbert watched as the boy licked his lips and took a sip from the glass. His eyes widened, and after he'd swallowed, he let out a little cough.
"How does it taste?"
"Kind of like mint and aloe vera. I thought it would taste more magical."
Gilbert laughed. "What's magic supposed to taste like?"
"Like candy!"
"But I take it this potion doesn't taste as bad as your cold medication?'
"That stuff's gross," Ludwig said, no doubt remembering the slimy green potion he all but wanted to take whenever he was running a fever. "At least this potion makes my tummy feel warm."
"Good! That means it's working. We'll have to see how long it takes for the effects to show up."
The effects, it turned out, showed up about ten minutes later. Ludwig let out a little cry and started scratching at his face and arms. Little by little, the redness blurred and lightened. All the angry red from the edge to an inch in completely faded from sight. He reached up and touched the healed skin, giving a great smile to Gilbert when he discovered it was no longer hot and painful, but cool as the night.
Excited by the development, Ludwig took another sip. The same thing occurred in another ten minutes. The burns healed and retreated right before his eyes, leaving his skin fair and perfect as it had been before. It had even gained a soft, moisturized texture and gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the window.
About half the little cauldron was used before the burns were completely gone from sight. By this time, it was the dead of night, and Ludwig was about ready to fall asleep. He begged Gilbert to carry him up the stairs, and Gilbert had to remind him he wasn't strong enough to pick the boy up anymore. Instead, he held Ludwig's hand and guided him up the spiral staircase to bed. Again he tucked him in. Gilbert brushed his blond bangs back and kissed him on the forehead.
"In a time long forgotten, before the ambitious Fae of All Magic conspired with humans, and before the winged Fae of Light set out to seek their fortunes, all the fair folk lived together in a great forest at the center of Volkerburg. It was a secret world filled with powerful, ever-flowing magic, and everyone was free to dance and drink and revel in the night until the moon set in the west."
"You don't have to tell me a story, brother. I'm tired."
The changeling smiled, love spreading in his chest like moonlight in a pool of infinite depth. "Very well. Goodnight, Ludwig, my precious Tauschlein. Sleep well, and may your dreams be filled with mirth."
"Gilbert?"
"Hm?"
"I… I know I don't have any powers. I understand that now. But I still want to do magic like you. I'm not a fairy, but I still think I could make a great wizard. Maybe... maybe I could be even more legendary than Ludwig von Vegel."
Gilbert yawned. "We'll wait a few years and then find a tutor for you, okay? I... I'm sorry I lied to you, Luddy. I just want you to have the best childhood you can have, imagination included."
"Don't feel guilty. Now you know not to keep secrets anymore."
"Right," Gilbert said with a weak smile. "And Ludwig, if it ever turns out you don't want to pursue magic, I'll be fine with that as well. In fact, I'd almost prefer it. It's a dangerous and finicky art to those who don't take it seriously or practice it with extreme caution. Don't be telling anyone else you want to be a wizard, either. You know it's not safe to tell the people in town anything about us that doesn't relate to our fabrications."
"You're too protective of me," Ludwig sighed. "But I can wait until I'm older if it's too dangerous for me right now. Erm, thank you for letting me help you, at least, and thank you for the potion itself."
"You're welcome, Lud. I'd do anything for you. I love you to the moon and back."
Ludwig gave a sleepy smile before slipping under the covers and snuggling his head into the pillow.
"And I love you with all the light of the stars."
~N~
Originally posted by scrivenernoodz (as Syntax-N) on Fanfiction.net July 25, 2018. Crossposted to AO3 July 14, 2026. Thanks for reading! Don't repost.