November 22
Word Count: 761
“Great Mage Hilta was one of the most illustrious and benevolent of the twelve mages,” Saratin began in his librarian lecture voice. “She often wandered about, wearing her trademark yellow, creating objects for the citizens of Galadin.”
“She?” Malek asked.
“Yes, she.”
“Then there’s a mistake. I can’t have her powers. I am not a girl.”
“On the contrary, I don’t think gendered mattered when we were instilled with our powers. In fact, there were only two women left out of the seven former mages. Master Hilta and Master Bala. How do you know that you have Hilta’s powers?”
“I don’t have Hilta’s powers,” Malek grumped.
“Then why did you say there must be a mistake?”
“Because there must have been a mistake!” Malek closed his eyes again. Yelling was not improving his outlook, especially when he knew he was wrong. It was awfully strange to know something, and not know how you knew it, but his mind was full of images, as if he were seeing them through someone else’s eyes. A thousand years of memories that didn’t belong to him were chasing themselves across his eyelids.
Malek was thankful when Saratin didn’t continue his questions. Mitty began to stroke his forehead. The only thing he wanted to do right now is curl up with Mitty, in front of a fire with a big fat cat on their lap. Malek’s pillow began to purr.
“Malek. You did it again.”
“Did what?”
“Open your eyes.” Trevelyn and Saratin were gone. No, they were in their cabin, and Malek’s head was nestled on Pylon’s shoulder blades. Mitty was in his arms and there was a fire blazing in the hearth.
“This is nice,” Malek mumbled, getting quite comfortable.
“Do you care to explain?” Saratin said, popping himself and Trevelyn in on their cozy domestic bliss. “Or can I hypothesize?”
“Hypothesize away,” Malek said not moving an inch.
“That blue ball somehow awakened the memories of Hilta inside of you, rather like how the book is showing me bits and pieces of Geoi. But you got your dose all at once, and that’s what knocked you unconscious.”
“Give the man a cookie,” Malek stated. “And tell him to go away.”
“You know what this means?” Saratin asked. “This means that now you’re the most powerful of all of us. You have the knowledge and the power.”
“If I can keep my stomach from upheaving.”
“You can teach us!”
“Pylon, eat him will you?” Pylon didn’t move, which was just as well, considering Malek was resting on him.
“You can find Lynah, and maybe we can figure out why the magic left. This is the best thing that could have happened. Maybe we can figure out why the magic left in the first place… and how fast it’s returning. I…”
“Saratin,” Mitty said, “Malek doesn’t feel very well.”
“I’m sure all of this can wait for tomorrow,” Trevelyn said as she laid a hand on Saratin’s shoulder.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I just got a little overenthusiastic.”
“I’m sure Malek understands,” Trevelyn replied. “I’m sure he knows how important this is to the whole world.”
“Maybe you should come back tomorrow,” Mitty said.
“Yes. Everything can wait… except, I am worried about Lynah.” Malek could feel Saratin staring at him, waiting.
Malek sighed and focused on Lynah. He called toward her, but she resisted. For a minute the tug of wills turned Malek’s stomach in knots, but finally he yanked her into the cabin.
“What do you want?” Lynah asked snippily.
“We were worried about you. We didn’t know where you were.” Trevelyn stated, reaching out toward Lynah. She pulled away.
“I don’t need a babysitter anymore. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. So leave me alone.”
Lynah vanished.
“So who taught her how to travel?” Saratin asked, a confused look on his face.
“Mitty just taught me a few things
this morning,” Trevelyn explained. “And as far as I know, Iber doesn’t know
anything, Lasser is in
“Maybe she learned on her own,” Mitty added.
“Perhaps, but now that we know she’s all right, we can concentrate on other things.”
“Like getting some sleep,” Malek hinted.
“Right,” Saratin said. He took Trevelyn’s hand. “Tomorrow then,” he said before dashing out of sight.
“Right,” Malek said.
“Right. But wouldn’t it be better to sleep in a bed?” Mitty said.
“Okay,” Malek said and transported all three of them into bed. The cat stretched out, taking nearly half.
After a minute, Mitty whispered, “I’m not exactly sleepy. It is the middle of the afternoon, you know.” Malek sighed and opened his arms, letting her out of his embrace. Mitty sat on the edge of the bed and kissed his forehead.
“You are going to cooperate with Saratin tomorrow, aren’t you?”
“I cooperated last time, didn’t I?”
“Grudgingly.”
“But I cooperated.”
“Yes,” she admitted. Mitty stood.
“There’s something else here, besides the nausea. I can sense it… the overall feeling of meaning well, of doing things for others without reward. It’s all of her. I’ve spent my entire life looking after me. She spent her life looking after other people. And she was happy.
“Aren’t you happy,” Mitty asked tentatively, as if fearing the answer.
“You make me happy, but this is deeper… and rather annoying. Maybe it will go away.”
“Do you want it to?” Mitty questioned. Malek pondered for a moment. Life was immensely complicated sometimes.
“Don’t expect a new Malek,” he warned.
“I don’t want a new Malek. I want you… even if you are grumpy a lot.” He smiled.
“I’m not grumpy.”
“I love you,” Mitty stated simply.
“I know.”
Malek drifted off to sleep with the smile still on his face.