They arrived at her house within a handful of minutes, Andrea annoyed at Julian
for talking about her mother in such a disgusting way, and Julian annoyed at her
for spilling his tea despite having gone to great pains to make sure such a thing was
impossible.
"Couldn't you just magic me more clothes?" she asked, to which he shook his
head, "No."
"And here I thought that you were able to do anything," She said, rolling her eyes.
"Where would I even begin, Andrea? I don't know your size, how much cloth and
wool would be needed, nor anything about your sense of style, other than it is
appalling. Now, could I solve these issues? Surely, I am Julian Nerva for Christ's
Sake. But will I?"
"I doubt it," Andrea stomped her feet towards her home, "It would be a nice thing
to do, and you're Julian Nerva, for Christ's sake."
She slammed the door behind her and almost jumped out of her shoes when she
saw him standing there, "Why are you here?"
Julian blew his lips and shrugged, "Why are any of us here, really? What is the
meaning of life, and our living it? There's just so many ways to answer that
question, Andrea."
She walked past him and climbed the stairs, "I fucking hate you."
Andrea slammed her bedroom door shut and knocked back into it when Julian
startled her again, "Shit!"
He grimaced and she pulled the middle finger up at him, "You do that often, huh?
Sneak your way into little girl's rooms?"
Julian rolled his eyes at her, "Now now, there is no need to be so crass, Andrea."
Andrea decided to try and ignore him as she pulled out her luggage bag and put
as many items of clothing as she could get her hands on before looking towards
her creams and make-ups and toothbrush and hairbrush and—
"Do you really require all of this?" Julian asked, annoying her with his…. Perfectly
soothing voice, "Am I putting all of this in my luggage bag?"
"I suppose."
"Then you have your answer." She snapped, finishing up by taking a picture she
had copied of her grandmother and her parents, a picture that was in Julian's
hands before she could even put it down, "Hey!"
He looked down at it and smiled, "Amusing."
Andrea marched over towards him to snatch the picture from out his hands,
"Yep, funny as funny can be. My granny and her folks decided to take a family
picture together in-between fighting off poverty and ducking Jim Crow. Oh, what
little rascals they were!"
"…. This is a picture of your mother and her parents." Julian said, his hands now
in the pocket of his navy blue coloured suit.
Andrea raised an eyebrow at him, not entirely sure if she had heard him
correctly, "What?"
He turned towards the door, "I'll tell you more later…. Or I just won't and let your
curiosity and desire for answers make you go crazy. I have a feeling I know
which I will choose to do."
"Juli—" she could barely get out more than half his name when he disappeared
from view, as if he had never been there to begin with.
Andrea jumped onto the bed to throw a tantrum, kicking and slamming her fists
down, Fuck Fuck Fuck FUCK!!!
If this were how things were going to be, she would back in New Orleans within
the month.
She got up off the bed and took her luggage bag, struggling to drag it towards her
bedroom door when she heard a knock and opened to find the invisible butler
stood there, offering to help.
"Thanks." Andrea muttered, still a little in awe at watching an invisible man lift
the luggage bag she intended to take with her to a magic school in England.
She hurried down the stairs after him, stopping to stare at the pictures of her
Granny and mother, her eyebrows furrowing as she began to think over what
Julian had said, "You've got to be fucking kidding me…." She muttered before
clearing the stairs in two strides. Andrea stormed her way out the house and
back into the chariot, finding Julian sat cross-legged with a newspaper in his
hands, "Did Mr Unseen help you come alright?"
"Go and fuck yourself." She muttered, sitting herself across from him as they
waited for his invisible man to place her suitcase in the corner, "What did you
mean up there, Julian?"
He ignored her as he continued to read the paper, reading it undisturbed until
she slapped at it, "Julian!"
"It's Mr Nerva." He said, fixing the paper and going back to reading, "And I will
tell you, on one condition."
Andrea sunk back into her seat, "Depends on the condition. My… momma told me that there is power in words, especially promises."
"Good to see that she actually taught you something worth a damn." He
muttered, and that annoyed her a great deal, "She taught me how to speak my
mind."
"And now the world suffers for it." Julian sighed, setting aside the newspaper and
looking at her intensely, "When we get to Camelot, you will mention nothing of
any form of bond or relationship between us beyond the fact that I brought you
in. You will call me Mr Nerva in public, and you must muster up the crumble of
respect that I know that Antonina has instilled in you, and behave accordingly."
She thought it over before sighing and closing her eyes, "Only in public?"
He nodded his head, "Only in public."
"You have yourself a deal, Juli-Boy!"
He barely reacted to that, "You come from a better home than your behaviour suggests,
Andrea."
She mumbled that he was right before bitterly agreeing to call him Mr Nerva and Julian
just as she felt the tendrils of sleep begin to grab hold of her.
Andrea could hear Julian sigh again, probably because of something she did like
breathe a little too hard in his presence, "Rest then, I suppose it was a very
eventful day. When you wake, we will begin with the basics."
Andrea dreamt of spiders and burning trees, slowly waking to the smell of
something warm and savoury, opening her eyes to be greeted by the sight of
freshly baked pie and a slice set-aside for her.
She yawned and stretched, feeling like she got a good eight hours of wonderful
sleep, her body feeling better than it had in ages.
"Well rested?" Julian asked, still somehow enthralled by the newspaper in front
of him
"Good enough, I guess. How long have I been out?"
"It should be chasing midnight." He said, looking at his watch and nodding, "Ten
minutes to twelve, as I suspected."
"Yeah," Andrea got up and stretched some more, "Congrats, you're the G.O.A.T for
real."
After getting the blood flowing again, Andrea waved at Mr Unseen, who bowed in
return, "How are you, Mr Unseen?"
He made the 'A-Okay' gesture with his gloved fingers, and then pointed at her,
drawing a laugh out of Andrea, "I've been better, Mr Unseen. Thanks for asking."
"Stop talking to the imaginary help, Andrea," Julian muttered, "Once you start,
they'll start to believe that they are people."
"Yes, Master Julian." She mimicked him in a trash-sounding version of his unique
accent. She looked at Mr Unseen and rolled her eyes whilst pointing at Julian, a gesture of which the servant seemed very amused by.
"Enough." Julian said, never once looking up from what he was reading. She
folded her arms over her chest and huffed, "I promised to be nicer to you, and
you promised to explain the photographs of my family. Time to live up to your
part of the deal."
He nodded his head slowly, "That I did. That photograph I said was of your
mother and her parents is, shockingly, actually a photograph of your mother and
her parents."
Andrea was silent for a heart beat before bursting out into laughter, "Fine then,
have it your way. Good luck hearing a 'Mr Nerva' come out of me ever again,
Julian."
He had the faint trance of a smirk appeared on his irritating face, "You should not
be so sceptical, Andrea. For you're talking to someone who was born in 1857."
She almost laughed again until she saw that he was absolutely serious. Andrea
turned towards the butler, "Mr Unseen…. Is this true?"
The butler nodded, and now she had to believe it.
Well…. I did think he seemed to have appeared out of a period movie….
"How?" she muttered, and Julian's smirk finally appeared, "Magic."
Andrea, despite being shocked, could not help but roll her eyes, "No shit, bruh. I
mean explain it."
"The source fuels us, and in turn, we live a little longer. The more powerful a
person is, the more their life span will be." He said, and she gasped at hearing it,
"Oh, for real?! It fuels you for how long?"
He set down a side plate on the tray, "The average magician will live 120 years
before they die, which means the likes of myself will be sticking around this
sorry planet for over 300 years. It says a lot about your mother that she still
looks the way that she does at 98-years-old, despite her retirement."
It was a good thing that Andrea was sitting down, or else she would have
collapsed from the madness of it all, "Then…. No, that makes no sense. We have
neighbours who talk about other family members helping them in court cases
decades ago!"
He sat back into his chair, "I think that you can guess how…."
Andrea was prepared to cuss at him should he had simply said the word 'magic'
again, but then it hit her, "Fuck me…. are those stories cause of fog-fuckery?"
Julian's smirk deluded into a small smile, "A rather indelicate way of putting
things, but yes, you are correct, Andrea."
She felt almost ashamed to humble herself so, but her curiosity had gotten the
better of her, "Could you tell me more." She mumbled, and Julian, to her surprise,
kindly obliged, "Your great-grandfather started your family practice some
time after the civil war, part of Grant's attempts at helping black owned business
here in the south. The many stories of ancestors helping people in courtly
matters is just an assortment of acts performed by either your mother or her
father or his father before him."
Andrea took a moment to take it all in before asking a question she was terrified
of learning the answer to, "So…. Am I actually sixteen…? Or is that part of the fog
too?"
What little joy expressed upon his face quickly fell away, "That is a boring
question, Andrea."
"Easy for you to say!" She snapped at him, "I need to know if everything apart of
my life is a lie, so sorry if my questions don't pique your high-brow interests!"
"You're sixteen." He said
"And how do you know that for a fact?"
He shrugged, an infuriating sight that seemed to matter little to him, "Your
insolence is a dead give away. And, because your body is only drawing enough
enough of the source's power so as to draw attention from the likes of Jeremiah
Riggs. That usually only happens some time after puberty."
Andrea exhaled a sigh of relief; at least that part of my life is not a lie….
"So…. I will get to live 120 years too, huh?" She tried to focus on the bright side,
but Julian seemed opposed to any future where she was even remotely happy, "I
severely doubt it."
She was disgusted and deflated by that response, "If what I am sensing from you
is correct, which it is, you don't seem to have enough magical potency to live past
100."
Andrea frowned, "What?"
He cocked his head slightly, "I had meant to be insulting before, but did your
mother actually teach you nothing?"
For some reason, Andrea felt the urge to squirm under his scrutinising glare,
"Outside of that promise thing…. No, not really."
"Not even the basics?" Andrea had never thought she would see him so….
disappointed.
"You said you would teach me the basics." She snapped back at him, resenting
him for making her feel this way. Julian sighed for the hundredth time and set
aside his newspaper for good, folding it neatly to place beside him, "I did indeed. Now, I will leave most of the boring origin aspect to your lecturers, and begin
with something actually crucial. The manipulation of the fog."
Andrea sat up, "Finally! Magic time!"
Julian sat up as well, in a far more refined and respectable manner than she had,
"Yes, magic time. Firstly, a little boring background."
"But you said—"
"Hush." He quietened her, "The source is connected to every person on the
planet. Their mind, body and soul. As an infant, your connection is barely a thread amongst the billions and billions of tethers connecting humanity to the Source. And so, one is unable to do magic or have their souls feed the Source. This connection grows and grows until one has reached the age of maturity, at which point, the Source is able to detect them, and take the energy it had given them back. Think of it akin to the ocean. What is one wave crashing on some beach compared to the vast volume of water
that covers over seventy percent of the planet? Nothing. But that water is still
pulled back in by the tides regardless. The Source operates in a similar manner.
It is why people begin to grow old and die once they stop growing and maturing."
Julian, especially this version of him, seemed almost bored by everything around
him, a consequence of life being too easy for a magician of his calibre, she
reckoned. But now, his otherwise blank expression was a little more…. Animated,
and his eyes, when not hidden, usually looked big and empty, but now had the threat of a spark within them as he went on to explain magic to her. Andrea did not like the man, and might even go so far as to say that she hated him on a bad day. But in that
moment, she was completely under his spell, listening to him and only him as he
peeled back the curtain and let her see the world for what it really was. A world
she was equal parts terrified and excited to be apart of.
"Most people only have a strong enough connection to the source to give twenty-
five to maybe forty years worth of energy back, and a couple of outliers may dare
give fifty. Medicine and science has gone some way to combating this, revitalising
the body and strengthening it against the illnesses of the world that would
otherwise make the human vessel wain some."
Andrea loathed interrupting him, but the curiosity within her was too much not
to, "Then shouldn't using magic impact the years a person has, not give them
more?"
Julian smiled softly, "A decent question, one that will be addressed soon enough.
About 6 500 years ago, pockets of people all over the world had sort of….
Stumbled their way into grasping a very minute understanding of the Source.
And the few amongst them realised that if their bodies naturally are able to give
to the Source, then those very same vessels should in theory be able to take as
well."
"Wow…." Was all her dumb mind could contribute to this discussion, way to go
brain!
"Wow indeed," Julian surprised her by not taking the opportunity to insult her.,
as she might have done, had their roles been reversed.
"These beings, taking the energy of the Source to revitalise themselves, began to
live longer and longer. This is where shamans and religious figures soon began to
pop up, and civilisations began to form. The Source, which had just been a
cauldron of energy before, soon began to change with humanity, taking on its
ideals and thoughts and personality, the good with the bad. Do you understand
why, Andrea?"
She sat and thought it over for a good moment, reviewing what he had told her
over and over again until Andrea sighed, "Don't laugh but…. You said the Source
is connected to a person's mind and soul as well as the body…. So wouldn't
what's on our minds also be sent to…. the Source… as well…. Never mind, it
sounds stupid."
His smile grew, "No, you are exactly correct, Andrea. Well done!"
It frustrated her to admit it, but his praise of her made her return the smile,
"Thanks…. Mr Nerva."
He was about to continue his lecture when a bell's ringing interrupted him,
sucking out the little joy that Julian seemed able to muster as he stood up from
his seat, "Well, this ends our lecture. Thank you for being an attentive student."
Andrea did not feel the carriage descend, but somehow knew that they were on
the ground now, "Wait, what about the fog?"
Julian took her luggage bag and lifted it as if it with one hand, as if it weighed
nothing, fixing his tie with the other hand before opening the door for her, "That
will be explained to you during your Magic Society 1A lecture. Probably your first
one in fact, if I know Professor Gywendd like I think I do."
She stepped outside onto a busy street, people coming and going as if there were
not some large carriage with several ethereal horses stood beside the sidewalk
in front of them, under the instruction of a headless man in a tired suit and an
invisible butler stood waving at them.
"Where are we?" Andrea asked, and Julian pointed to the clock in the far
distance, "What, do you need an establishing shot with the word 'London' written
out upon the screen for you?"
Andrea rolled her eyes as she followed him onto the sidewalk, "Cool reference,
Old man. Now, go on an hour long rant about how the talkies in your day were
real cinema."
Julian smiled at that, "That was actually amusing. Now come, we're about to
enter the Underground."
Andrea frowned, "Isn't that y'all's version of the subway?"
His expression contorted into such disgust that it were as if she had just spat at
him, "Look upon my suit, little girl. What I am wearing could be donated to an
orphanage and keep them fed for a few months. Do you think I would take anything resembling a subway?
"No. The Underground is the world beneath this one, the one within the fog."
He stopped at a street sign that read 'Gibraltar Avenue' and tapped it twice.
"Oh! Are we about to pull a Harry Potter?" she asked excitedly, and her question
only worsened the disgust upon Julian's face, "No, we are not about to 'pull a
Harry Potter'. This is magic, Andrea, real magic. Not whatever nonsense passes
for sorcery in—"
Andrea ignored him as she stepped towards the street sign, knocking her
forehead against steel before yelping as she stumbled backwards, "Ow! Julian! I
thought we were about to pull a Harry Potter. Why did you tell me this thing was
a portal, or whatever, if it was not?"
"I just told you that there will be no Harry Potter-ing of any sort."
Andrea sniffled as she rubbed her forehead, certain that there would be a red
mark and perhaps a welt there later on, "I wanted us to be like Harry Potter so
bad though."
Julian looked at her blankly for a moment before he turned away and said
something in Latin. The street sign began to tilt to the right before it fell into the
ground, doing a full revolution and appearing on the other side before standing
back up again.
Andrea was about to ask what had happened before she looked
around and noticed that they stood within a different city. There were still
people going about their day, simulating the hustle of a true city, but everything
seemed to be darker and the air felt heavier. There was no honking of vehicles,
or the sounds of people talking or any of the other loud sounds that would
pollute a popular city. It was as if she were in a silent memory of a town now
populated by ghosts and spirits. She looked around at the buildings made of
various greys and whites and creams, few shorter than a couple of storeys,
perhaps five at the smallest, but all made in some sharp gothic style with
gargoyles and griffin statues dotting every other building.
In the skyline were spirals and cathedrals with statues of weeping winged angels
wielding ancient weapons decorating their entrances, pillars made in ancient
Greek and roman style holding up ceilings of concrete moulded into domes or
around clocks that had arms that did not seem to move at all.
The streetlights were erect and straight, instead of the drooping kind that
Andrea was used to seeing in a modern city, made of a black metal that looked
like it was actually made of dark glass when one stared long enough, with
burning candles surrounded on four sides of glass sat up top, the light they
emitted unnaturally more than a candle ought to shine. In fact, everything that
was metal around them was enamelled black, including robots and guard railings
and phone booths.
Phone booths? She gawked, what the hell is this…?
In fact, this entire city seemed to be purposefully fashioned like that. Filled with
modern versions of cars and people walking around in modern styled clothing
that she would find in any other metropolitan city. Buildings had neon-styled
signs advertising their name and what they sold, shops like convenience stores
or vape stores and even a weed dispensary down the road from them. The few
conversations she could hear were in modern speech and there were billboards
promoting a new product or a new movie coming out this upcoming summer.
But there were anachronisms in things like phone booths, the roads being
cobbled instead of tarred, people walking around with sheathed-swords or
shields, police officers mounted upon shadow steeds that blew out smoke from
their large nostrils. It was as if Victorian London had been gentrified by hipsters,
and it felt awful to admit, but she liked it. They stood at a roundabout, the centre
of which was a fountain of a female angel with large wings, wearing an actual
bronze breastplate with a real bronze tipped spear in the right hand and a
bronze coloured shield in her left. Greaves and guards covered her lower legs
and forearm, and her feet were bound in leather boots.
From her empty eyes poured water, another display of weeping that made
Andrea uncomfortable to look at, "Julian…. Where are we?" she asked in a dumbfounded tone, tempted to walk and see every part of this dark city that was
lit by an unnatural trinity of moon, electricity and magic.
"This is Calriddia." He said, lightly grabbing her shoulder to guide her out the
path of a man running faster than a human being ought to be able to, "We are late
as is. We must hurry."
"How come we can't hear anything?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow, a
momentary expression of confusion painted on his face before he seemed to
notice it too, "Apologies, it is of my own doing." He said, snapping his fingers to
allow a wave of noise to crash down onto Andrea's ears, bringing the atmosphere
of an urban city that had sorely been missing, "I prefer not to have my ears
bombard by nonsense. Which is why talking to you has been a hell of an
experience."
She stuck her tongue out at him as they continued down the road filled with
restaurants and art galleries on either side, Andrea finding it difficult to pull her
eyes away from the instruments playing themselves in the corner of one
restaurant filled with patrons laughing and conversing, as if such were an
everyday thing. She felt Julian's large hand wrap around her arm, "Andrea." He
spoke calmly, but she could detect the annoyance in his tone, "We are late."
"Sorry." She said sheepishly, following after him as they began to ascend a hill.
Andrea had been terrified to speak again, lest he finally lose his temper with her
and magic'd her out of existence, but the curiosity of all of it had gotten too much
once they walked past a building with a scarlet eye with a black slit iris
decorated upon its double marble doors.
"Does this city exist on like…. Some other dimension or something?"
Julian looked back over his shoulder towards her, "Yes, in a way, it does. There
are a handful of magical cities around the world, a few hundred towns, and
perhaps a thousand villages too. Usually, the fog is enough to keep people out,
but for the big metropolitan areas like London, a little bit more creativity is
needed…. Can you guess as to why?"
Andrea was beginning to tire as they reached the top of the hill, already feeling a
little drowsy even after having just slept a good night's rest, but the
view of the city had been breath-taking enough to deem it all as worth it.
"I…. I am not sure…."
Julian sighed, "Well, more people means a higher chance of discovery. As you
know, some people have a strong enough connection to the Source to see things,
usually not strong enough to see with much understanding, but just enough. If 1-
in-100 ordinary people are touched enough to see at the very least something,
those odds might be nothing in a large village or even middle-sized town, but you
could imagine just how much more prevalent it would be in a city like London."
Andrea whistled, "The magic community in China or India must be having a
tough time of it."
He almost smiled at that, "I would assume so. Have you noticed something in the
air?"
She yawned, "Yeah, it…. Feels heavy, and tastes weird."
Julian raised an eyebrow, "You cannot be already tired. You just slept."
She yawned once more and stretched, "Hey, I don't know what to say, but I've
had a lot on my plate the past week. Cut me some slack, Julian."
He did not look happy with her, more than usual, and the sight of his….
Annoyance? Irritation? Disappointment could not have been the right word,
because he barely cared about her enough to have expectations in the first place,
ate at her a little, "What? What did I do now, Julian?"
He turned to look ahead, pointing to the corner of the road where on the next
road over, there were railings placed in the middle of the road, "This is the
nearest stop for the Cabbage Cart, think of it as what you have in your San
Francisco. This will bring you into town should you wish to spend some of your
free time here, especially on weekends."
They arrived at the corner just in time for a cart to come barrelling down the hill
to stop right in front of them. He entered the cart before her, tapping a black card
that he had pulled out of thin air against the wristband of the cart's driver before
turning to look down at Andrea, "Come on, the trip will take us up to Camelot."
She stifled another yawn and joined him to sit towards the back, the only other
people in the 33-seat sized cart was an old lady in a cloak busy having an
impassioned argument with the cat in her lap, and a pair of twins sat silently
next to each other in what looked to be the school's uniform.
"Why is the air thicker and heavier here?" Andrea asked as she took her seat next
to him, "It feels like I'm wearing three extra layers of clothing."
Julian nodded his head, "It's called the Hide 'n Seek, colloquially. An area spell,
focused on taking a little bit of magic from each occupant in the city, done so in
order to fuel this dimension's magic to keep it existing the way it is. No amount
of fog manipulation could ever match this."
Andrea could not stop the yawn from grabbing hold of her, and her eyes were
beginning to get heavy, "Bruh, is this juju what has me so dead?"
"It shouldn't." He snapped, "There are far too many people in the city to even
notice that you're losing any energy at all. It's the equivalent to a drop of blood,
Andrea."
She frowned up at him, "Well, sorry if it's got me feeling some type of way, but
I'm still new to this magic thing, remember?"
He did not answer, and so Andrea rolled her eyes and focused on the view of the
city. To hell with him and his magical elitism, she thought, as the idea of sleep was
thrown to the back of her mind by the wonderful view of the city. In the centre
was a white-marble building as big as any she had ever seen, a domed
masterpiece with four angels standing tall and beautiful, carved out to
perfection, with cherubs surrounding each of them and holding above their
heads something glowing that looked like halos from where Andrea sat.
The dome was made of glass, with its sills and frames made of pure gold that
glinted and gleamed the reflection of light sent by a moon that shone so brightly
so as to make the stars around it useless. Around the central marble building were a
forest worth of the greys and whites and creams Andrea had seen before, and on
the northern end was what looked like an army made up of trees with black bark
and leaves, a terrifying version of nature's forests that she could not imagine any
bird or bug would ever want to live in.
Or rather, imagine the birds and bugs that do….
There was a mountain range in the north-east that had a tower of jet-black in
front of it that had that same scarlet eye with the black slit carved into it, but this
time, the eye was bordered by a ring that had spikes sticking out of it, looking like a grunge version of the four cardinal points. Despite the grotesqueness of the
sight, it took all her will power to look away from a carved eye that seemed to be
staring back at her.
"What the hell is that eye-thing about?" she asked Julian, half-surprised that he
still was willing to answer her, "The Gods' Eye." He said, placing a hand on her
shoulder to force her to look elsewhere, "You are never to go anywhere that has
that symbol. Even seven-feet near it, do you understand?"
Andrea looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "If it's that bad, why is it allowed in
the city?"
Julian pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it, "You'll cover that more in
your Religious Studies, and your Arcane History class as well. But in short, they
are crazy religious cultists who worship the worst parts of the Source, the parts
where the evils of man seem to have carved out a place of their own."
Andrea gulped and did her best to avoid looking at the tower again, "No lie, that's
a little creepy…. And so, do you believe in a god then?"
Julian folded his arms, "No."
She decided not to press him on the issue and instead focused on the other sights
of the city. In the eastern part of it was another gothic styled building built up top
a hill with a faceless man statue holding up a torch that had a blue flame
hovering above it, the flame looked no bigger than Andrea's fist from how far
away she was, but must have been massive up close.
Behind the man was something that looked like a coliseum, but made in shining white marble with gold and silver dotted around it, a stadium fit for gods. Around them, she started to notice that the restaurants and small townhouses began to drift away,
replaced by taller apartment buildings, and libraries and bookstores and even a
few small malls here and there. Down the one street they past came loud music
and had every building pestered by lines of young adults, a row of bars and clubs
and lounges that Andrea was excited to visit as soon as she had the chance.
"Focus on your studies, Andrea." Julian said immediately, as if he was reading her
mind.... Wait! A terrifying realisation dawned on her there and then, what if he is
reading my mind?!
"Can you read minds?" she asked, and he looked up at her and raised an
eyebrow, "Why do you ask?"
Andrea thought back over all the times that he seemed to do something that
seemed like a reaction to a thought or observation of hers, and even then, whilst
she was replaying all their interactions, he had a wry smile force its way onto his
face, "Julian…."
He shrugged, "No, well…. If we're going by exact definition, then no. It's more like
I have a spell active that…. Allows me to empathise more, like I can surmise what
you are thinking off of what you are feeling. I noted your desire to go and have
adventures upon Theresa Avenue through feeling your excitement when you saw
it, less so that I read your actual thoughts."
Andrea raised an eyebrow at him, "No ways is the great Julian Nerva, god above
men, using his magic to try and empathise with.... people?"
He gazed down at his pocket watch again and stood up with her large suitcase in
hand, "We're here."
The cart stopped as if he ordered it to, right outside a small stop with a large
group of students waiting outside.
She followed after him nervously, nerves that only seemed to get worse when
she noted the silence of the previously lively crowd upon Julian and her exit.
The group of young adults, the youngest of them looked no younger than
seventeen, parted like the Red Sea to allow Julian to walk through the stop
unimpeded, earning a few, "Good evening, Mr Nerva"'s as they left the stop.
Andrea heard a few comments about her but tried her best to ignore them, but it
was all too much for her first day, and it forced her to walk closer towards Julian,
whose cold demeanour was now all of a sudden the warmest thing in this
strange city.
"You're quite popular." She noted, as they walked past a few small houses and
apartments that had flags and banners on them, invoking thoughts of the frat and
sorority houses that Andrea always scoffed at, but a part of her kind of wanted to
also experience.
"No," Julian answered bluntly, "I am just their headmaster, and a Nerva. It's more
fear than popularity."
Andrea wanted to roll her eyes at him, but he had said it so matter-of-factly that
she could not help but take him seriously, and so she followed after him in
silence, walking past students either coming back from a night out, or heading
out for a night out, all of them going out of their way to acknowledge Julian. They turned a corner, and before them was a large wall that was only eclipsed in
height by a hedge, and was separated into two by a large metal gate that had a
turnstile next to it. Above the gate was an insignia of a woman's arm appearing
out of a body of water, and in her hand gripped tightly was a shining sword.
The guards at the gate, previously disinterested in the people who came and
went, were all on their feet when they saw Julian and scrambled to open the gate
and stand at attention as he barely acknowledged their greetings and entered the
campus. Andrea had believed that she had seen just about everything today, but
was left in awe at the school that greeted her. Before them were large fields of
grass that were designated by the paint on their surface as to which sport they
were for, with each corner of the massive field having courts of some sort to
provide another alternative, like basketball or netball or tennis, with the one
corner, to her eye, being filled with astro-turf most likely for field hockey.
The road that started from the gate curved around the field like the athletics
track did, elevated on its northern side by a hill that led to a massive pavilion
with a scoreboard firmly set upon its middle, with a set of Greek god
statues wielding javelins and shot-puts on either side of the large scoreboard.
"This is gate E." Julian told her, "It will be the closest gate to the Cabbage Carts,
and so whenever you wish to leave campus, I would advise taking this route."
He began to follow the road with her suitcase still in hand, somehow not even
close to being a little out of breath like her. Andrea followed him, noting the rows
of trees on their left that separated the road and fields from the large Olympic-
sized swimming pools to their right. They soon arrived at the pavilion and
walked beneath the Gods forever locked in competition, entering a pavilion that
had a sort of two-level suite to their left, and bars and restaurants to their right,
with the walls covered in dark brown boards filled with the names of individuals who had excelled at their respective sport. She searched long and hard but could
not find Julian's name there, "Huh…. I thought that the great Julian Nerva
would've at the very least gotten a spot on these boards."
She teased him, but he only reacted with the shaking of his head, "My schooling
was done in France, obviously."
Andrea sheepishly shrugged, "I forgot. So…. Are your names on the boards of the
French school?"
"No."
"Why not?" She pressed, and was slightly annoyed by the sigh that left his mouth,
"I don't much like sports…. well no, that is not true, I do. But they were beginning
to become all too time consuming, pulling me away from mastering my magic."
That answer made Andrea frown, "But… sports are supposed to be fun, y'know,
the kind of thing you look to do away from all the serious stuff, bruh"
He snorted at that, "Fun? You're in competition with other people, how could
that ever be just fun? Fifteen other boys on a rugby field, or eleven on a soccer
field, or even one other person in squash or tennis, makes no difference the
number, I never found any fun in losing."
"Well, I mean," Andrea scrambled for words, "It's more about the activity and….
Stuff, y'know, not just the result."
Julian scoffed as he opened the door for her to exit the pavilion and enter a
pathway made in the middle of a beautiful garden awash with an army of colours
that she had never seen on flowers before, "The result is everything, otherwise
why have one at all?"
She cocked her head at him, "You're a strange dude, do you know that? Like why
are you wired the way that you are?
"I do not know," he said, "But it was something that vexed your mother greatly, if
memory serves."
She usually was annoyed whenever he brought up her mother, but this time,
Julian had said it in a more…. Sad wouldn't be the right word, Andrea thought, she
couldn't imagine Julian Nerva being anything other than smug or bored.
"Did you love her?" she asked, after the two had walked through the pathway,
Andrea reaching out to touching a flower as large as her hand, its petals a
beautiful mix of white and blue. Julian did not answer her immediately, but even
just the day she had spent with him had taught her that he would eventually,
once he had thought over his words correctly, "I do not know." He finally said,
the pathway long gone as they entered a hallway to an interior that looked like
some fancy boarding school was made out of some medieval castle. There were
blue and red and yellow lockers pressed against light grey and white walls, with
corners either decorated with small statues of either griffons or sphinxes or
lions.
"She…. I do not remember spending so much time with someone and not being
bored by them." Julian nodded, "So perhaps I did, to an extent of sorts...."
Andrea stopped and looked up at him, looking into those big eyes that were too
pretty to be so empty and forced to meet his blank stare by the instinctual pull in
her gut, "Julian…. Are you my father?"