Story: Chimera: Class of 666
Part: One "Waking Up"
Chapter: Four"Truth of Lie?"
Authored by:
Hannah Nyland (The Irreverent Revenant)
All Rights Reserved.
Chimera: Class of 666
By Hannah Nyland and Jerad Sayler
Casstiel
is right about the risks of staying close to family; I can’t protect them from
this. What could happen to them, or what could happen to me. Because if one
thing is clear at this point, it’s that mage business isn’t all puppies and
rainbows. The world that I’ve opened my eyes to is a dangerous place. I can
stay anonymous, take precautions, but with me around the risk of something
terrible happening to them will always be there. And that risk is not something
I care to think about.
With
my currently superior mental processing speed, the conclusion that would
normally take me days of deliberation to reach arrives in seconds, hits like a
knife in the gut.
“I
think maybe I should do it,” I say slowly. “Cut ties. Slip off to college or
something in another state and drop contact.” I continue, my voice sounds quiet
and tired, but with obstinate certainty. “Because if I don’t, and something
happens to them because of me . . .” The sentence is too painful to finish.
“Only I can’t, not without scaring them again.” Quite unexpectedly, I laugh.
“There’s no easy way to do this, is there?”
Casstiel
looks a bit shocked. His hand comes up in a placating or defensive gesture.
“Maybe
the answer is being prepared and informed. Maybe distancing from them a little
bit will keep them off the radar. I can sever all mystical sympathetic ties you
have to them and teach you to do the same. As long as you never use your real
name when you do magey work and keep yourself disguised magically enemies
shouldn’t be able to trace you back to them.
“We
could also put up layers of magical security around your parents. You can do
some very scary stuff with Fate magic, will them never to come to harm or
always get a warning before something is going to happen. Stuff like that. The
trouble is that there are so many things out there, some which defy all classification,
that could ping to that and actually be drawn to the protections, even ones
that are hidden under layers of false resonance. Protecting yourself and others
becomes an exercise in paranoia. You have to know how to exercise risk
management with very little information sometimes. How much time of your life
can you spend wasting on protecting against contingencies that are so rare they
may never happen? Don’t get me wrong, if you judge us by the necklace I just
gave you then you can see that we are on the paranoid side of the spectrum. But
there is always another countermeasure and always a way to get around it. How
far you go is based on how many enemies you have made that week. I tend to ask
the magic eight ball of destiny, reading omens and portents in my cards. But if
something is fated to happen, you can bring it about by trying to prevent it,
just like in the old fables.”
So
he half-affirms my idea. “I still think you go to college. You are slightly
distanced from your parents and apart from when we spend time training you will
be apart from me. And I can make that separation a mystical thing in an attempt
to try to focus old curses and enemies on me and the cabals I associate with.
Seems like the least disruptive answer. Also, there are other orders and
societies that have vastly more resources than the mages I associate with. They
can provide protection for you helping you further their goals. I can tell you
about a few and when you are trained and prepared we can see if one of them is
right for you.”
“Do you understand what I am saying?” He asks.
“Does any of this alter your decision? I only ask because you are allowed to
change your mind at any point. You pointed out there is no easy way to do this,
and you’re right. If you did you would perhaps be a smarter Mage than I.”
Here
it is: the way out that I so desperately want, offered up on a silver platter.
I run through it all through my head again. Maybe he has a point. Maybe I don’t
have to do this. Maybe. . .
“I
haven’t severed any ties. I just….can’t. Okay, maybe I could, sometimes I feel
like I can do almost anything but I won’t. It would lessen me somehow. I wonder
sometimes if taking a chance, living with the danger and the consequences as
life as one of the awakened is somehow necessary in the pursuit of wisdom. I
just don’t know.” His eyes lower to the floor and his posture hunches. A sore spot.
No.
My face takes on a hard, stubborn cast. “Will it make them safer if I do this?
Even a little? I need to know. You might be right; accepting the risk might be
the wiser thing to do. But I can’t.” I shrug apologetically and lower my head.
“I just can’t either. If it won’t accomplish anything, I won’t do it; it would
be really hard, for them and for me.” Perhaps the hardest thing I’ve had to do.
I
look down to the floor, expression pained but resigned. Waiting for an answer.
Casstiel
sighs, letting out his breath slowly and thinking for a moment.
"Honestly....
yes. Yes it would make them a little safer. If you think that is the best course
I will help you. But then what do you think of me, your teacher, who is
unwilling to make that break? Sure I don't see the fam very often anymore with
living so far away but I won't sever those ties. I think you should distance
yourself if that is what you want... but don't burn family bridges. Being very
busy is a polite separator most people accept when you don’t visit often."
"Having
a life and being a Mage is a balancing act. It’s monumentally difficult,
believe me. It’s a task fit for a Master, maybe its part of a challenge made by
the watchtowers and the pact you signed. Another Supernal trail. Do you lose
yourself in the truth, or do you ensure you retain what makes you you? Do you
hang on to those that matter?”
I
know in this moment the exact moment at which my resolve to go through with it
snaps. Unguarded, my face lights up with anger and disappointment – anger and
disappointment directed at myself.
“The whole reason my first cabal formed back
when we were just crazy sleepers hunting monsters. It was formed to protect those we care about.
The whole reason we got involved with a powerful group of mages and their plot
to end the world was because they rolled through town and tried to kill a
couple Catholic priests. So before you decide just know that there are risks
but you are surrounded by awakened who semi-successfully lead two different
lives. For some of us it’s the only reason we live and stand the watch.”
“I
should be able to do this.” I’m muttering, the words not aimed at anyone in
particular. One hand has the arm of the couch in an iron grip, but I don’t seem
to be mindful of the fact, or of any damage I might be doing to it. I’m clearly
not in my best state of mind. The
analytical part of me points this in a detached message lost behind my
emotions.
I
turn to Casstiel. Resigned again, but for a different reason. “You are far too
convincing. I’ll try. I just hope that I don’t regret it.”
His
face breaks into a smirk. "And just think, right now you’re smarter than
me."
“Oh,
I’m well aware,” I reply dryly. “Still didn’t help me, did it?” Though I settle
back into a reserved exterior, I am still uneasy about my choice. Right or
wrong, I cannot help but believe that it was a product of my selfishness. But
what’s done is done. And if asked, I wouldn’t be able to deny a certain feeling
of relief at the outcome.
He
clamps a hand around her shoulder in a cousinly side hung, attempting to break
he tense muscles into relaxing. "We
will figure this out together. All of us."
I
stiffen at the hug, but then slowly relax. My fingers uncurl from the arm of
the couch; I react with faint surprise as I realize just how tight my grip was.
“Yeah. We will.”
Family
members are peeling off and we go through a few iterations of saying goodbye.
Finally my parents stand and start coralling Daniel to the door.
I
stand, nodding. "One week."
People
are starting to leave. I hang back for most of the farewells, tossing out hugs
and goodbyes when approached. Casstiel nods at me; I nod back.
“I’ll
be ready,” I said.
As
per usual, my parents are doing their best to herd Dan out the door, to limited
success. I can see their surprise as I turn and smile at them. A little forced,
but it’s a start. I have a story to tell them when we get home. A story far too
plausible to be the truth.
Keri
& Jack give out a round of hugs to everyone. He nods to one final time
before heading out the door, wearing a different pair of boots.
Walk
a mile in your shoes, you walk a week in mine...
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