NaNoWriMo Days 4, 5, 6 and 7
Nov. 7th, 2009 08:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsYou're getting four days in one. Because I didn't have time to post before now. So nyeh. :P
Current mood: decent
Current activity: watching Iron Chef
Current word count: 15,114/50,000
Characters: Andrew can't keep a posh English accent no matter how much I try. Craig is still being a prat seems intent on doing the whole double agent thing. Chas, Jules, Chris and Dom are no-shows at present. I have no idea if they will turn up at all or whether this will end up only being an epic Craig/Charles/Andrew lovefest (none of the three seem to be interested in changing this at present).
Plot: Well, it's going somewhere. Andrew and Craig are ganging up to spend as much time with Charles as possible. I am not surprised in the least. -_- (If they don't end up moving in with him, I'll be very surprised. I'm sure he's already thinking of a way to manage that)
Cameos: Still working on them. No one can decide exactly when during the plot they're going to turn up, so we'll see. XD
Other notes: OH. Done some more development of the magic system. All the spells are related to (ancient) Greek (which I don't know), rather than Latin (which I know better). My pronunciations may be dodgy because of that. Ah well. Oh, and we seem to have motorbikes. For some reason, that one crept up on me. XD Damn you, Andrew! XD
Anyway. Onto the fic. This be a long entry (~4.2k), just so you know. And the usual, it's just a draft, it'll probably be better after an edit, etc.
Tell Me More, Tell Me More, Was It Love At First Sight?
Charles' mansion was just as he'd remembered it, with all the riches he had occasionally wished his own estate had. While Andrew and his family were indeed wealthy, Charles was proper peerage, and with that came a greater respect. The hallway into the main lobby was ornate and gilded, and Charles and William tipped their hats to the portrait of King George the Third hanging on a wall. Andrew also nodded, if not exactly out of loyalty and respect, but more out of fear. Andrew had long decided he never wanted to marry royalty, not if that was the sort of family you married into. But he would never have voiced such thoughts in public, let alone to a Peer. It would be unthinkable.
Charles led him through to the small lounge where they usually met. It overlooked the nicest part of the garden and had a window seat with the softest pillows Andrew had ever seen. They'd shared some good times in that room. Andrew almost immediately headed for the window and sat down, leaning against the pillows he'd missed so much. William sooned joined them. Charles approached and rested a hand on Andrew's shoulder.
"I missed you two a lot, you know. Andrew so far away in London, and you, Wills, shut up under your uncle's care, is that not correct?" Charles said.
"Got it in one, old friend," Andrew said.
"So, Andrew, how was your education? Did you learn anything your uncle would approve of?" Charles said.
"I'm a fully qualified doctor. Uncle is happy, and all I want to do is experiment. And learn magic properly. I am quite sure I would benefit from proper tuition from someone who knew what it is they are doing. I am sure most of my failures are due to lack of proficiency and not having anyone with which to check my gesturing," Andrew said.
"Andrew has nevertheless offered to teach me, haven't you, brother?" William said with a smile.
"I did promise, yes. I am assuming you learnt magic, Charles?" Andrew said.
"Of course. My father insisted. Magic is power, as they say," Charles said.
"I believe the phrase is knowledge is power," William corrected.
"Not when you've been to the Magic Academy. Once you know magic, you can do pretty much anything. Of course you are not supposed to, but that does not stop many people. I have heard the Dissenters are big on experimenting with magic in ways we have forbidden," Charles said.
Andrew tried not to look too interested in that. Having avoided the indoctrination of the Magic Academy, he didn't have the same attitude to magic as Charles did. He had gathered his grandfather was quite radical in his views of magic, which might have explained why he had hidden his magic books before he'd died.
"I wouldn't know, Charles. Do you know anyone who could teach me?" Andrew said.
"It is unlikely you would be accepted into the Academy, especially if your uncle disapproves. The staff are ... reluctant to teach just anyone. You would not pass their tests in magical proficiency. I am sorry I cannot help you," Charles said.
"I shall just have to keep teaching myself then, if no one else will," Andrew decided.
"Come with me," Charles said after a moment's thought.
Andrew and William followed Charles through the house to his private rooms. His bedchamber was just as grand as the rest of the house, with deep green wallpaper and dark mahogany furnishings. Andrew had always loved his rooms. They waited while he fished out some books from a trunk at the foot of his bed.
"I should not be doing this at all. You would be severely punished if you were found to have these. These are my magic books from the Academy. If you are serious about learning magic properly, you will need these," Charles said, setting the books on his bed before standing up.
"Oh, but, Charles, you do not need to go to such troubles-"
"I will not hear another word of it. Now sit down, both of you. I shall start from the beginning," Charles said.
Andrew and William joined him on the bed and gazed at the books before them. They were tatty from being carted around, and were not as new as they once might have been. Charles opened the first and flipped through to the first chapter.
"We shall begin. William, I shall go slowly because I know you are ignorant of this precise science. There are ten categories of magic known to mankind. The basic categories any student of magic should be able to master are the traditonal elements of flame, earth, water and air. Beyond that, any magician deserving of the title shall become proficient in electricity, and the categories relating to the living world, the animal, vegetable and mineral. Beyond that still are the categories reserved for only the greatest magicians, that of infinity and time. Both are very much experimental and are not to be trifled with. It is the magic of the Gods. They are the most powerful kinds of magic known to mankind, and it is a good thing few know how to cast such dangerous magics," Charles said.
"I am assuming this is magic for magic's sake, rather than the magic that can be combined with technology, am I correct?" William said.
"Each of the categories contains subsets of spells for technology, if I remember correctly. But that, too, is experimental. I have heard tell of music being used to create magic. Where does that fit?" Andrew said.
"I am not aware of magic created by music. However, it may fall under air magic, or it may be a category that is unknown to us," Charles said.
"Or it could be one of those things that happens when magic and technology do queer things in combination with each other," Andrew said.
"The haphazard nature of combining magic and technology is a little too advanced for us at present. Not every magician practices that kind of magic. Let us merely concentrate on mastering the basics before we move onto anything else," Charles said. "One of the basic skills is conjuring fire. It is the first thing you learn. Now, hold your hand open, palm facing the ceiling. Pyyrros is the spell you need. Say it properly, piir-ross. As you say it, wave your other hand across your palm towards your shoulder, like so."
Charles demonstrated the spell, and a small lick of orange flame appeared on the palm of his hand, flickering gently. Andrew had more success than William when they attempted the spell, as Andrew had at least mastered some of the basics, even if his flame was more purply orange than Charles'.
"How in the world did you get your flame that horrid colour?" Charles said, noticing the flame on Andrew's palm.
"I have no idea. It has always been that colour," Andrew said.
They watched William try again, and he managed a tiny spark of orange flame. It flickered and died moments later.
"You will get better. That you can conjure that small flame means you should be able to learn. It is the first exam we ever do at the Academy. Anyone who fails to produce a flame is expelled; they do not have the necessary talent to proceed. It is harsh, but necessary," Charles said.
"How do you extinguish the flame? Does it just burn forever?" William said.
"You extinguish the flame, and by extention end the spell, like so." Charles clapped his hands together swiftly, his hands lying palm to palm. He smiled as he watched Andrew and William imitate him. "There are different end spell gestures for each of the different categories of magic. Now, try the spell again, and this time, try and get an orange flame, Andrew."
"I shall do my best," Andrew said, aware he would probably fail anyway.
All spoke the spell at the same time, and this time, William's flame was bigger and sustained itself. Both Charles' and Andrew's flames burnt brightly, though Andrew still hadn't managed an orange flame.
"Much better, dear William. We shall make a magician out of you yet. Although I notice your flame has also taken on the strange hue of your brother's. I was unaware magic worked that way," Charles said.
"You are asking me as if I know the answer to your question. I am also surprised at how the fire does not burn my skin," William said.
"Magic fire will do that. Ordinary fire will surely burn you because it is not bound by the laws of magic," Charles said. "And now that we have mastered the conjuring of fire, we need to be able to do things with it. Aleiphos."
As Charles breathed the last word and closed his fingers around it, the fire changed from a small flame to encompass his whole hand, burning an almost invisible blue colour. The flame danced over his skin and pulsated in waves.
"What is that?" Andrew said.
"A flame of anointing. It is used to consecrate holy objects. At least it is when the Church turns a blind eye to the practice," Charles said.
"They still have not quite accepted the practice of magic even after a century or more of glorious progress, have they?" Andrew said, somewhat cynically.
"The Church is, well, they can do what they like. They have the power of the King behind them. This is why there are more magicians who have defected and fighting for the Dissenters. Some have no sense of loyalty," Charles said. He clapped his hands together and the flame was extinguished. "But I am tired of politics. It is nice to be feared and adored and to be the only force protecting the King's people, but this town is not what it used to be and I fear it never will be again until these divisions are healed. It is an issue I wish I had an answer for."
"I have had similar thoughts. But what is to be done? The King will not intervene and is content to allow this infighting to continue," Andrew said.
"You have not heard then? The King will visit Birmingham next year. We have brought back the Music Festival a few months to coincinde with his visit. I am sure he intends to announce what is to be done here when he arrives. You will be performing, will you not? I have missed your music while you have been away," Charles said.
"I had not thought about performing. I have only just arrived back from London, Charles, but I shall talk to my old orchestra friends and see if there is any room for me. It would be an honour to play for the King," Andrew said.
"It would be wonderful to see you up there again. You missed the last one as well," Charles said.
"I know, and I feel terrible for doing so, but it could not be helped," Andrew said.
"You have missed much, my friend," Charles said.
"I am well aware of that, and I am hoping you will see fit to relate to me everything that I have missed, though how you have managed to stay in touch when you were away with me as well I'll never know," Andrew said.
"I have my ways. If you want the honest truth, I was brought home early when my father fell ill and wished for me to take over his estates once he passed away. I had not the heart to return to my studies after that. My responsibilities were here," Charles said.
"I am sorry to hear of your father's death. I, for one, was rather fond of him," William said softly.
"He used to take us on horeseback rides and tell us ghostly tales about past Lords of the estate. He was a rare kind of man. You were lucky to have him," Andrew said.
"I know, and I am sorry you missed his funeral. It was one of the few times the town was unified. Even the Dissenters liked him," Charles said. Charles blinked back tears and tried to pretend like his grief was something he was okay with.
"You should not cry for him. I am sure you have shed more than enough tears for him already," William said, rubbing his back affectionately.
"Come on, let us put aside such things. It has been too long since we last saw each other to spend our time in melancholy," Andrew said.
Charles smiled. Andrew brought him into a tight embrace. William suggested a walk in the gardens. Charles cheered up at that suggestion. The gardens had been redesigned since Andrew was last there, and Charles was overcome with a sudden urge to show Andrew and William everything, as if it was all brand new. He took their hands and led them from the house. Andrew was just glad to see him happy again.
Funny Seeing You Again
Craig had slipped away from Shard End instead of going to bed like he'd said he would. He had a feeling he might see Andrew again, and wanted to stake out his house in order to catch him. It would be inadvertent meetings such as the one she had planned that would ensure their friendship continued. He might even pretend to be a poor little orphan chap who was in need of somewhere to sleep. He felt Andrew might be the sort of rich kid who would be more willing to let him in. He could do some early recon work that way while the household slept.
He knew Jalyn wouldn't like him sneaking off again, but Craig was the sort of thief who never let an opportunity slip and Jalyn would thank him for the progress on his mission. It took him less time than he'd anticipated to arrive at Andrew's estate, and after finding a suitable place to hide, he settled back to wait for Andrew.
It seemed he didn't have to wait long. He heard the roar of Andrew's motorbike and scrambled into position, lying under a tatty blanket next to a bush on the footpath in front of the estate. He shielded his eyes from the bright light as the bike pulled up and stopped. Craig got his plea ready.
"Is that some dirty tramp sleeping on our grounds?" William said as he saw someone lying half under a blanket.
"I have no idea. It would be cruel to move him though. Let's see if he is in need of assistance," Andrew said. He wasn't sure why he wanted to check, but it was late, and perhaps it would be nice to spite his uncle by being nice to someone below their station for a change.
Craig did his best weary and starving look as Andrew approached and touched his shoulder gently. William kept back a little.
"Sir, are you well? Why are you sleeping out here?" Andrew said.
Blinking, Craig sat up and looked at him. "Not everyone's lucky enough to have a nice big house like that, sir."
"Craig? Is that you? I thought you lived somewhere. What are you doing out here?" Andrew said, recognising him.
"Oh, now I am all ashamed. My dear noble friend, I'm sorry to have deceived you on the part of my homelessness. I didn't think a proud man such as yourself would wish to associate with someone like me," Craig said.
"How do you know him, Andrew?" William said.
"He met me as I was returning home. The train left me at Vauxhill and he very generously assisted me. I was not sure I would ever see you again," Andrew said.
"Sorry, I didn't realise this was your home. I'll move if you wish me to," Craig said.
"You'll do nothing of the sort. You do not have anywhere else to go? I am sure we could take you in for the night. It is cold enough out here as it is," Andrew said.
"Why did I know you were going to say that? We cannot take him in. Uncle will not approve," William said.
"Since when have you cared what he thinks? The mansion is big enough. He will not be seen," Andrew said.
"He had better not be seen. How do we know he is not some sort of petty thief? You cannot trust him," William said.
"I trust him more than I trust our uncle. I did not study medicine for seven years for nothing. He is one of the people that we should be looking after," Andrew said.
"I would not steal from such generous hosts such as yourselves. I give you my word," Craig said, and, for once, he meant it. There would be time to steal from him later, of course, but not now. He was beginning to like Andrew, and he didn't want to break his trust just yet.
"Very well. He can stay. But if Uncle finds out, this is all your responsibility. Double if he steals anything," William said.
"They are terms I can agree with. Come on, Craig, let's get you out of this chill," Andrew said, helping him to his feet.
"We should have stayed at Charles' estate. He would not have minded so much," William said as they walked back towards the mansion.
"Then shall we return to his mansion? I cannot tell you I would much rather live with him than here in this prison," Andrew said.
"Perhaps it would be for the best, at least for the moment. I do not want our Uncle angry with you so soon after your return. You and I both know Charles will be kind to our guest here. He would not turn him away. He is probably the only noble, apart from you, who would not do so," William said.
"Then let us pay Charles a return visit. Allow me a minute to adjust the sidecar," Andrew said as he caressed the left side of the motorbike and coaxed a third seat out of it, a sidecar for Craig to travel in.
"I am still unsure how it is you have built such a strange machine when we are still using mechanical horses to pull carts and carriages. Are you sure you should be so open with it?" William said.
"I am not the only one with such a machine. Mine is just a little more advanced than most," Andrew said. "Climb aboard. We should get going."
Once they were settled, Andrew revved the motorbike and headed back out of the mansion and through the streets towards Charles' mansion again.
I Hope You Are Not Going To Make A Habit Of This
Charles had just settled down with a nightcap before bed when he was informed Andrew and William had returned. Curious as to what had brought them back, he went to greet them and found them in the hall with a slender, grubby boy who didn't look much younger than they were.
"Well, this is a surprise. Who is this you've brought with you?" Charles said.
"This is Craig. I owe him a favour. He assisted me on my way home, and he is in need of a place to stay. We felt you would be most generous to him, moreso than our uncle at the very least," Andrew said.
"I could probably make a soldier out of him, if given the time. Does that sound like a fair trade-off? You can stay, boy, but you will become part of my Army to repay me for this. I have made less generous offers, believe me," Charles said, addressing Craig.
Craig knew this malarky would be good for something. Not only had be befriended Andrew, he had wormed his way into staying with Charles, the Lord who kept the town safe, and he had just been offered a place as one of his men. This night couldn't get any better if he tried.
"They are most generous terms, m'Lord, and I will gladly serve you as one of your most loyal guards ever. Sir," Craig said, saluting as he answered. He finished with a wide grin.
"I like him. Come, let's get you cleaned up. You are not sleeping in my bed while you are that dirty," Charles said.
"I can be real proper dirty if you want me to, m'Lord, if'n you want me sharing your bed and all," Craig said.
"I can see I will get rather infuriated with you. Andrew, Wills, your usual rooms are at your disposal, as I'm assuming you do not wish to return home tonight," Charles said.
"Well, any excuse to stay a little longer," Andrew said.
"Come on, it's late, and I'm sure we'd all like to get to bed soon," Charles said.
Charles wrapped an arm around Craig's shoulders and led him off to the bathrooms. Andrew and William headed off to find their rooms. Craig would be safe enough with Charles. There was nothing to worry about, and both were ready for bed. In a sign they weren't quite ready to separate just yet, William and Andrew ended up sharing William's usual bed, William's arms held tight around his younger brother as they slept.
Sometimes It's Better To Bathe Alone
Craig was awed by the bathing rooms. Charles' mansion was very grand indeed, almost like a royal palace. He swapped dirty banter with Charles as they walked, and Charles became rather fond of him the more they talked. Craig watched with fascination while the bath was filled with steaming hot water and scented oils.
"I don't suppose you've bathed like this before," Charles said.
"Very few get to bathe like this, m'Lord," Craig said.
"Shall I leave you to bathe then? I shall come and fetch you when you're done," Charles said.
"Thank you, m'Lord," Craig said.
Charles made sure everything was provided, including a clean set of clothes, before leaving him alone. His paranoid side sent him into the small chamber next to the bathroom where he could anonymously observe him, just to see how he acted when he was alone. It wasn't that he didn't trust him, but he had dealt with spies who had tried to infiltrate before and he wished to be sure the same was not to happen again.
Alone at last, Craig stripped off and threw his clothes aside. Just as he was about to step into the bath, he caught sight of his reflection and stared at himself. He almost didn't recognise his own image. He was covered in dirt, his hair was tangled and messy, and his body showed evidence of poor nutrition. He had looked better than this once. But those days were long gone. This was his life now. With a sense of resignation, he stepped into the hot water and let it carry him away.
Many thoughts ran through his head as he lay there in the water. Missed opportunities, people he'd never see again, what he might be doing had he not chosen the path he had, whether anyone still cared he was missing. He had answers to none of his questions. He thought about Andrew and Jalyn and William and Charles and Ulysses and everyone else he had come to know in town.
He remembered in particular two little thieving boys he had befriended when he had first arrived. They were ten years old, and their names were Laney and Darcy. They had taught Craig everything he had come to know about thievery and burglary. He wondered what had happened to them. They must be near adulthood by now. Maybe they had escaped and made something of themselves. Maybe they were dead.
"I really should stop dwelling on death," Craig murmured quietly as he began to clean the dirt off his body.
It had been a long time since he'd properly washed himself. Living the life he had, he had made do with anything he could get his hands on. Washing was not necessarily a priority, unless he got hinself dunked in a canal for annoying Bev too much. He hadn't seen a bathroom like this for years. He still recognised the little bottles and what they contained. He took his time, knowing he probably wouldn't be allowed such a privilege again. The cloth he was using to clean himself was very soft and it almost seemed a shame to get it so dirty. It mostly wrung clean in the water, but Craig still felt a little bad about it.
He sat up as he used some of the liquids in the bottles to clean his hair, which was not as easy as he had anticipated. His hair was a mess, he knew that well, and would probably need to be cut to make it look presentable. He was almost tempted to use magic, but he wasn't sure it would do anything useful. He might end up with hair like Ulysses if he wasn't careful. Deciding against showing off his magical abilities, he contented himself with untangling it manually. Eventually, he got it somewhat clean and untangled, though it could do with a comb. Searching around the bathroom, he located one in a drawer and with it, he managed to tame his hair at last.
So yes. I'm still pondering on rewriting/adding to the last scene with Craig and whether or not I should include a little more backstory. I might add it tomorrow or something. IDk. I probably should though.
Current mood: decent
Current activity: watching Iron Chef
Current word count: 15,114/50,000
Characters: Andrew can't keep a posh English accent no matter how much I try. Craig is still being a prat seems intent on doing the whole double agent thing. Chas, Jules, Chris and Dom are no-shows at present. I have no idea if they will turn up at all or whether this will end up only being an epic Craig/Charles/Andrew lovefest (none of the three seem to be interested in changing this at present).
Plot: Well, it's going somewhere. Andrew and Craig are ganging up to spend as much time with Charles as possible. I am not surprised in the least. -_- (If they don't end up moving in with him, I'll be very surprised. I'm sure he's already thinking of a way to manage that)
Cameos: Still working on them. No one can decide exactly when during the plot they're going to turn up, so we'll see. XD
Other notes: OH. Done some more development of the magic system. All the spells are related to (ancient) Greek (which I don't know), rather than Latin (which I know better). My pronunciations may be dodgy because of that. Ah well. Oh, and we seem to have motorbikes. For some reason, that one crept up on me. XD Damn you, Andrew! XD
Anyway. Onto the fic. This be a long entry (~4.2k), just so you know. And the usual, it's just a draft, it'll probably be better after an edit, etc.
Tell Me More, Tell Me More, Was It Love At First Sight?
Charles' mansion was just as he'd remembered it, with all the riches he had occasionally wished his own estate had. While Andrew and his family were indeed wealthy, Charles was proper peerage, and with that came a greater respect. The hallway into the main lobby was ornate and gilded, and Charles and William tipped their hats to the portrait of King George the Third hanging on a wall. Andrew also nodded, if not exactly out of loyalty and respect, but more out of fear. Andrew had long decided he never wanted to marry royalty, not if that was the sort of family you married into. But he would never have voiced such thoughts in public, let alone to a Peer. It would be unthinkable.
Charles led him through to the small lounge where they usually met. It overlooked the nicest part of the garden and had a window seat with the softest pillows Andrew had ever seen. They'd shared some good times in that room. Andrew almost immediately headed for the window and sat down, leaning against the pillows he'd missed so much. William sooned joined them. Charles approached and rested a hand on Andrew's shoulder.
"I missed you two a lot, you know. Andrew so far away in London, and you, Wills, shut up under your uncle's care, is that not correct?" Charles said.
"Got it in one, old friend," Andrew said.
"So, Andrew, how was your education? Did you learn anything your uncle would approve of?" Charles said.
"I'm a fully qualified doctor. Uncle is happy, and all I want to do is experiment. And learn magic properly. I am quite sure I would benefit from proper tuition from someone who knew what it is they are doing. I am sure most of my failures are due to lack of proficiency and not having anyone with which to check my gesturing," Andrew said.
"Andrew has nevertheless offered to teach me, haven't you, brother?" William said with a smile.
"I did promise, yes. I am assuming you learnt magic, Charles?" Andrew said.
"Of course. My father insisted. Magic is power, as they say," Charles said.
"I believe the phrase is knowledge is power," William corrected.
"Not when you've been to the Magic Academy. Once you know magic, you can do pretty much anything. Of course you are not supposed to, but that does not stop many people. I have heard the Dissenters are big on experimenting with magic in ways we have forbidden," Charles said.
Andrew tried not to look too interested in that. Having avoided the indoctrination of the Magic Academy, he didn't have the same attitude to magic as Charles did. He had gathered his grandfather was quite radical in his views of magic, which might have explained why he had hidden his magic books before he'd died.
"I wouldn't know, Charles. Do you know anyone who could teach me?" Andrew said.
"It is unlikely you would be accepted into the Academy, especially if your uncle disapproves. The staff are ... reluctant to teach just anyone. You would not pass their tests in magical proficiency. I am sorry I cannot help you," Charles said.
"I shall just have to keep teaching myself then, if no one else will," Andrew decided.
"Come with me," Charles said after a moment's thought.
Andrew and William followed Charles through the house to his private rooms. His bedchamber was just as grand as the rest of the house, with deep green wallpaper and dark mahogany furnishings. Andrew had always loved his rooms. They waited while he fished out some books from a trunk at the foot of his bed.
"I should not be doing this at all. You would be severely punished if you were found to have these. These are my magic books from the Academy. If you are serious about learning magic properly, you will need these," Charles said, setting the books on his bed before standing up.
"Oh, but, Charles, you do not need to go to such troubles-"
"I will not hear another word of it. Now sit down, both of you. I shall start from the beginning," Charles said.
Andrew and William joined him on the bed and gazed at the books before them. They were tatty from being carted around, and were not as new as they once might have been. Charles opened the first and flipped through to the first chapter.
"We shall begin. William, I shall go slowly because I know you are ignorant of this precise science. There are ten categories of magic known to mankind. The basic categories any student of magic should be able to master are the traditonal elements of flame, earth, water and air. Beyond that, any magician deserving of the title shall become proficient in electricity, and the categories relating to the living world, the animal, vegetable and mineral. Beyond that still are the categories reserved for only the greatest magicians, that of infinity and time. Both are very much experimental and are not to be trifled with. It is the magic of the Gods. They are the most powerful kinds of magic known to mankind, and it is a good thing few know how to cast such dangerous magics," Charles said.
"I am assuming this is magic for magic's sake, rather than the magic that can be combined with technology, am I correct?" William said.
"Each of the categories contains subsets of spells for technology, if I remember correctly. But that, too, is experimental. I have heard tell of music being used to create magic. Where does that fit?" Andrew said.
"I am not aware of magic created by music. However, it may fall under air magic, or it may be a category that is unknown to us," Charles said.
"Or it could be one of those things that happens when magic and technology do queer things in combination with each other," Andrew said.
"The haphazard nature of combining magic and technology is a little too advanced for us at present. Not every magician practices that kind of magic. Let us merely concentrate on mastering the basics before we move onto anything else," Charles said. "One of the basic skills is conjuring fire. It is the first thing you learn. Now, hold your hand open, palm facing the ceiling. Pyyrros is the spell you need. Say it properly, piir-ross. As you say it, wave your other hand across your palm towards your shoulder, like so."
Charles demonstrated the spell, and a small lick of orange flame appeared on the palm of his hand, flickering gently. Andrew had more success than William when they attempted the spell, as Andrew had at least mastered some of the basics, even if his flame was more purply orange than Charles'.
"How in the world did you get your flame that horrid colour?" Charles said, noticing the flame on Andrew's palm.
"I have no idea. It has always been that colour," Andrew said.
They watched William try again, and he managed a tiny spark of orange flame. It flickered and died moments later.
"You will get better. That you can conjure that small flame means you should be able to learn. It is the first exam we ever do at the Academy. Anyone who fails to produce a flame is expelled; they do not have the necessary talent to proceed. It is harsh, but necessary," Charles said.
"How do you extinguish the flame? Does it just burn forever?" William said.
"You extinguish the flame, and by extention end the spell, like so." Charles clapped his hands together swiftly, his hands lying palm to palm. He smiled as he watched Andrew and William imitate him. "There are different end spell gestures for each of the different categories of magic. Now, try the spell again, and this time, try and get an orange flame, Andrew."
"I shall do my best," Andrew said, aware he would probably fail anyway.
All spoke the spell at the same time, and this time, William's flame was bigger and sustained itself. Both Charles' and Andrew's flames burnt brightly, though Andrew still hadn't managed an orange flame.
"Much better, dear William. We shall make a magician out of you yet. Although I notice your flame has also taken on the strange hue of your brother's. I was unaware magic worked that way," Charles said.
"You are asking me as if I know the answer to your question. I am also surprised at how the fire does not burn my skin," William said.
"Magic fire will do that. Ordinary fire will surely burn you because it is not bound by the laws of magic," Charles said. "And now that we have mastered the conjuring of fire, we need to be able to do things with it. Aleiphos."
As Charles breathed the last word and closed his fingers around it, the fire changed from a small flame to encompass his whole hand, burning an almost invisible blue colour. The flame danced over his skin and pulsated in waves.
"What is that?" Andrew said.
"A flame of anointing. It is used to consecrate holy objects. At least it is when the Church turns a blind eye to the practice," Charles said.
"They still have not quite accepted the practice of magic even after a century or more of glorious progress, have they?" Andrew said, somewhat cynically.
"The Church is, well, they can do what they like. They have the power of the King behind them. This is why there are more magicians who have defected and fighting for the Dissenters. Some have no sense of loyalty," Charles said. He clapped his hands together and the flame was extinguished. "But I am tired of politics. It is nice to be feared and adored and to be the only force protecting the King's people, but this town is not what it used to be and I fear it never will be again until these divisions are healed. It is an issue I wish I had an answer for."
"I have had similar thoughts. But what is to be done? The King will not intervene and is content to allow this infighting to continue," Andrew said.
"You have not heard then? The King will visit Birmingham next year. We have brought back the Music Festival a few months to coincinde with his visit. I am sure he intends to announce what is to be done here when he arrives. You will be performing, will you not? I have missed your music while you have been away," Charles said.
"I had not thought about performing. I have only just arrived back from London, Charles, but I shall talk to my old orchestra friends and see if there is any room for me. It would be an honour to play for the King," Andrew said.
"It would be wonderful to see you up there again. You missed the last one as well," Charles said.
"I know, and I feel terrible for doing so, but it could not be helped," Andrew said.
"You have missed much, my friend," Charles said.
"I am well aware of that, and I am hoping you will see fit to relate to me everything that I have missed, though how you have managed to stay in touch when you were away with me as well I'll never know," Andrew said.
"I have my ways. If you want the honest truth, I was brought home early when my father fell ill and wished for me to take over his estates once he passed away. I had not the heart to return to my studies after that. My responsibilities were here," Charles said.
"I am sorry to hear of your father's death. I, for one, was rather fond of him," William said softly.
"He used to take us on horeseback rides and tell us ghostly tales about past Lords of the estate. He was a rare kind of man. You were lucky to have him," Andrew said.
"I know, and I am sorry you missed his funeral. It was one of the few times the town was unified. Even the Dissenters liked him," Charles said. Charles blinked back tears and tried to pretend like his grief was something he was okay with.
"You should not cry for him. I am sure you have shed more than enough tears for him already," William said, rubbing his back affectionately.
"Come on, let us put aside such things. It has been too long since we last saw each other to spend our time in melancholy," Andrew said.
Charles smiled. Andrew brought him into a tight embrace. William suggested a walk in the gardens. Charles cheered up at that suggestion. The gardens had been redesigned since Andrew was last there, and Charles was overcome with a sudden urge to show Andrew and William everything, as if it was all brand new. He took their hands and led them from the house. Andrew was just glad to see him happy again.
Funny Seeing You Again
Craig had slipped away from Shard End instead of going to bed like he'd said he would. He had a feeling he might see Andrew again, and wanted to stake out his house in order to catch him. It would be inadvertent meetings such as the one she had planned that would ensure their friendship continued. He might even pretend to be a poor little orphan chap who was in need of somewhere to sleep. He felt Andrew might be the sort of rich kid who would be more willing to let him in. He could do some early recon work that way while the household slept.
He knew Jalyn wouldn't like him sneaking off again, but Craig was the sort of thief who never let an opportunity slip and Jalyn would thank him for the progress on his mission. It took him less time than he'd anticipated to arrive at Andrew's estate, and after finding a suitable place to hide, he settled back to wait for Andrew.
It seemed he didn't have to wait long. He heard the roar of Andrew's motorbike and scrambled into position, lying under a tatty blanket next to a bush on the footpath in front of the estate. He shielded his eyes from the bright light as the bike pulled up and stopped. Craig got his plea ready.
"Is that some dirty tramp sleeping on our grounds?" William said as he saw someone lying half under a blanket.
"I have no idea. It would be cruel to move him though. Let's see if he is in need of assistance," Andrew said. He wasn't sure why he wanted to check, but it was late, and perhaps it would be nice to spite his uncle by being nice to someone below their station for a change.
Craig did his best weary and starving look as Andrew approached and touched his shoulder gently. William kept back a little.
"Sir, are you well? Why are you sleeping out here?" Andrew said.
Blinking, Craig sat up and looked at him. "Not everyone's lucky enough to have a nice big house like that, sir."
"Craig? Is that you? I thought you lived somewhere. What are you doing out here?" Andrew said, recognising him.
"Oh, now I am all ashamed. My dear noble friend, I'm sorry to have deceived you on the part of my homelessness. I didn't think a proud man such as yourself would wish to associate with someone like me," Craig said.
"How do you know him, Andrew?" William said.
"He met me as I was returning home. The train left me at Vauxhill and he very generously assisted me. I was not sure I would ever see you again," Andrew said.
"Sorry, I didn't realise this was your home. I'll move if you wish me to," Craig said.
"You'll do nothing of the sort. You do not have anywhere else to go? I am sure we could take you in for the night. It is cold enough out here as it is," Andrew said.
"Why did I know you were going to say that? We cannot take him in. Uncle will not approve," William said.
"Since when have you cared what he thinks? The mansion is big enough. He will not be seen," Andrew said.
"He had better not be seen. How do we know he is not some sort of petty thief? You cannot trust him," William said.
"I trust him more than I trust our uncle. I did not study medicine for seven years for nothing. He is one of the people that we should be looking after," Andrew said.
"I would not steal from such generous hosts such as yourselves. I give you my word," Craig said, and, for once, he meant it. There would be time to steal from him later, of course, but not now. He was beginning to like Andrew, and he didn't want to break his trust just yet.
"Very well. He can stay. But if Uncle finds out, this is all your responsibility. Double if he steals anything," William said.
"They are terms I can agree with. Come on, Craig, let's get you out of this chill," Andrew said, helping him to his feet.
"We should have stayed at Charles' estate. He would not have minded so much," William said as they walked back towards the mansion.
"Then shall we return to his mansion? I cannot tell you I would much rather live with him than here in this prison," Andrew said.
"Perhaps it would be for the best, at least for the moment. I do not want our Uncle angry with you so soon after your return. You and I both know Charles will be kind to our guest here. He would not turn him away. He is probably the only noble, apart from you, who would not do so," William said.
"Then let us pay Charles a return visit. Allow me a minute to adjust the sidecar," Andrew said as he caressed the left side of the motorbike and coaxed a third seat out of it, a sidecar for Craig to travel in.
"I am still unsure how it is you have built such a strange machine when we are still using mechanical horses to pull carts and carriages. Are you sure you should be so open with it?" William said.
"I am not the only one with such a machine. Mine is just a little more advanced than most," Andrew said. "Climb aboard. We should get going."
Once they were settled, Andrew revved the motorbike and headed back out of the mansion and through the streets towards Charles' mansion again.
I Hope You Are Not Going To Make A Habit Of This
Charles had just settled down with a nightcap before bed when he was informed Andrew and William had returned. Curious as to what had brought them back, he went to greet them and found them in the hall with a slender, grubby boy who didn't look much younger than they were.
"Well, this is a surprise. Who is this you've brought with you?" Charles said.
"This is Craig. I owe him a favour. He assisted me on my way home, and he is in need of a place to stay. We felt you would be most generous to him, moreso than our uncle at the very least," Andrew said.
"I could probably make a soldier out of him, if given the time. Does that sound like a fair trade-off? You can stay, boy, but you will become part of my Army to repay me for this. I have made less generous offers, believe me," Charles said, addressing Craig.
Craig knew this malarky would be good for something. Not only had be befriended Andrew, he had wormed his way into staying with Charles, the Lord who kept the town safe, and he had just been offered a place as one of his men. This night couldn't get any better if he tried.
"They are most generous terms, m'Lord, and I will gladly serve you as one of your most loyal guards ever. Sir," Craig said, saluting as he answered. He finished with a wide grin.
"I like him. Come, let's get you cleaned up. You are not sleeping in my bed while you are that dirty," Charles said.
"I can be real proper dirty if you want me to, m'Lord, if'n you want me sharing your bed and all," Craig said.
"I can see I will get rather infuriated with you. Andrew, Wills, your usual rooms are at your disposal, as I'm assuming you do not wish to return home tonight," Charles said.
"Well, any excuse to stay a little longer," Andrew said.
"Come on, it's late, and I'm sure we'd all like to get to bed soon," Charles said.
Charles wrapped an arm around Craig's shoulders and led him off to the bathrooms. Andrew and William headed off to find their rooms. Craig would be safe enough with Charles. There was nothing to worry about, and both were ready for bed. In a sign they weren't quite ready to separate just yet, William and Andrew ended up sharing William's usual bed, William's arms held tight around his younger brother as they slept.
Sometimes It's Better To Bathe Alone
Craig was awed by the bathing rooms. Charles' mansion was very grand indeed, almost like a royal palace. He swapped dirty banter with Charles as they walked, and Charles became rather fond of him the more they talked. Craig watched with fascination while the bath was filled with steaming hot water and scented oils.
"I don't suppose you've bathed like this before," Charles said.
"Very few get to bathe like this, m'Lord," Craig said.
"Shall I leave you to bathe then? I shall come and fetch you when you're done," Charles said.
"Thank you, m'Lord," Craig said.
Charles made sure everything was provided, including a clean set of clothes, before leaving him alone. His paranoid side sent him into the small chamber next to the bathroom where he could anonymously observe him, just to see how he acted when he was alone. It wasn't that he didn't trust him, but he had dealt with spies who had tried to infiltrate before and he wished to be sure the same was not to happen again.
Alone at last, Craig stripped off and threw his clothes aside. Just as he was about to step into the bath, he caught sight of his reflection and stared at himself. He almost didn't recognise his own image. He was covered in dirt, his hair was tangled and messy, and his body showed evidence of poor nutrition. He had looked better than this once. But those days were long gone. This was his life now. With a sense of resignation, he stepped into the hot water and let it carry him away.
Many thoughts ran through his head as he lay there in the water. Missed opportunities, people he'd never see again, what he might be doing had he not chosen the path he had, whether anyone still cared he was missing. He had answers to none of his questions. He thought about Andrew and Jalyn and William and Charles and Ulysses and everyone else he had come to know in town.
He remembered in particular two little thieving boys he had befriended when he had first arrived. They were ten years old, and their names were Laney and Darcy. They had taught Craig everything he had come to know about thievery and burglary. He wondered what had happened to them. They must be near adulthood by now. Maybe they had escaped and made something of themselves. Maybe they were dead.
"I really should stop dwelling on death," Craig murmured quietly as he began to clean the dirt off his body.
It had been a long time since he'd properly washed himself. Living the life he had, he had made do with anything he could get his hands on. Washing was not necessarily a priority, unless he got hinself dunked in a canal for annoying Bev too much. He hadn't seen a bathroom like this for years. He still recognised the little bottles and what they contained. He took his time, knowing he probably wouldn't be allowed such a privilege again. The cloth he was using to clean himself was very soft and it almost seemed a shame to get it so dirty. It mostly wrung clean in the water, but Craig still felt a little bad about it.
He sat up as he used some of the liquids in the bottles to clean his hair, which was not as easy as he had anticipated. His hair was a mess, he knew that well, and would probably need to be cut to make it look presentable. He was almost tempted to use magic, but he wasn't sure it would do anything useful. He might end up with hair like Ulysses if he wasn't careful. Deciding against showing off his magical abilities, he contented himself with untangling it manually. Eventually, he got it somewhat clean and untangled, though it could do with a comb. Searching around the bathroom, he located one in a drawer and with it, he managed to tame his hair at last.
So yes. I'm still pondering on rewriting/adding to the last scene with Craig and whether or not I should include a little more backstory. I might add it tomorrow or something. IDk. I probably should though.