Rune Mage [Fantasy/Adventure | Book 1 +2 | Complete]

Chapter 35: The Making of a Bitter Man

Knowing the recipient of her petty creations now, Seiren felt more justified completing these mundane tasks day in, day out. She passed the latest rune to Myrtin and he passed her the wobbly tray of bread and cold meat – and the promised orange. He also gave her the latest request, bowed his bent back, and shuffled out, closing the door with a click.

Seiren yawned. Kori demanded magic every night and insisted on her doing everything she knew – and beyond that – until he was too sleepy and she had to tuck him in. His swollen legs were the heaviest thing she'd ever lifted into bed, and fluid seeped out of it until sores appeared and he mewed in pain. Even moving across the room to fetch his toys made him breathless, breathing with noises like a whistle through pursed lips. He might be bratty and demanding, but Seiren couldn't bring herself to abscond. Not when his little face lit up like the stars every night when she phased through his door. And so, she waved goodbye to any further substantial sleep; not that it was that great a problem, seeing as it kept the nightmares at bay.

She also managed to dig up some of the professor's old textbooks from the shelves outside. They were tucked far behind some history tomes, impossible to find had Seiren not used a search rune to specifically hunt for it. It was as if someone – she wouldn't dare guess who – didn't want these found again.

He could have just incinerated them all.

The afterlife. The beyond. Through the veil. There were many ways of phrasing death, but they all meant the same: the mysterious yonder from which nobody returned. Experimenting to search for the afterlife was forbidden, but it wasn't against the law to theorise about it. Reading between the lines of the professor's writing, however, it was clear this was not a man passionate about the subject.

No, he was obsessed by it.

Everything he wrote, whether it was about another philosopher's thoughts or the structures and theories behind magic, he linked it somehow to the afterlife. Fernard alleged Wallin Fernsby's 'The Origin of Magic' spoke of the afterlife as the original spark of magic as human lives crossed into the world of death, even though Fernsby actually felt the planets' orbits were the true source, via mages' ability to utilise the celestial energy that fell onto the earth from stars. He claimed Kinroch Gastrell's 'Benevolence and Malevolence: Usage of Magic's chapter on the rise and fall of magic users and misusers depicted those seeking for the afterlife and its significance. Adeline Berrycloth's 'Karma: A History' apparently could be seen as manipulation of their current world by those long dead and gone at the hand of the all-encompassing Being. The citation list was almost ridiculous.

Surely a man can't be happy locking himself away from the world immersed in something almost cultish like that.

Research is valuable stuff, though, mused Madeleine. Anyway. What's today's task?

The quota for toys seemed to have filled. Seiren tossed the book in her hand onto her bed and unfolded the crumpled paper request from yesterday with one hand. Fireworks.

"Huh." Her eyebrows rose. "He wants... burst magic?"

Surely not. Not if he wants to carry on the illusion that he's the mage behind it all.

I can't rune sparks of light. That'll take a crazy amount of yellow and violet mixed runes. Seiren stuffed the sheet into the front pocket of her dress and slapped a piece of cold meat with too much force onto her slice of bread. The wet splat didn't make her feel any better. She stuffed it in her mouth and chewed loudly, her mouth opening and shutting with exaggeration. The runes I've been making this week are advanced enough.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if Rowan would be proud of her. Not that he would ever say it, nor even look at her. Their relationship had gone up in smoke.