Spellcatcher - Dreamnotfound

Promise

"I'd like to discuss something important with you." George starts carefully as soon as Karl is out of earshot. "I'm sure you know of the stunt I pulled back at the prison?"

The two sit down in Wilbur's tent. George pulls his knees to his chest, still a bit tired from his healing trick earlier. 

Wilbur nods, humming thoughtfully. "Yes, of course. I assume that's where you met that other boy— Dream, was it?"

George chews on his lip a bit, pausing to keep the stutter out of his tone. "Yes, yeah, something like that. But that's not what I'm getting at."

Wilbur quirks an eyebrow, his attention focused completely on George as curiosity gets the best of him. 

"You can't tell anyone else about this, Wilbur, I'm trusting you with information that cannot be spread around the group just yet."

"Sure." Wilbur swallows, leaning forward slightly. "But what is it?"

"The humans. They're using the imprisoned Magics. Not just for bargaining material, but to use the magic for themselves." George's voice wavers at the harsh reality— When it comes from his mouth, it seems all the more real. 

Wilbur looks taken aback, and slightly bewildered. "That's impossible. Humans can't harness magic, let alone use it safely, especially in large amounts like that."

George nods curtly. "Exactly. It's impossible to use safely, especially with bloodlust. They're out to win— No matter what it takes."

Wilbur exhales. "How do you know all this?"

"That isn't important yet, what's important is that we stop them." George murmurs seriously.

Wilbur scoffs suddenly. "George, I'd love to help you, I really would. But I know just as much as anyone how powerful magic really is— And now that it's fallen into the wrong hands?"

George's eyes flash with frustration, feeling white hot anger fizzle in his core, threatening to reach towards his veins.

Wilbur snickers bitterly. "Not a chance. I can't risk people's lives like that."

"Wilbur, you don't understand, if we don't, thousands die. Magics, humans—"

"Good!" Wilbur almost exclaims. "Good, George, fantastic. I get it, you don't want your own to die. But if we can knock out that many humans? I'm almost glad." 

George's eyes widen. He exhales softly, shaking his head slightly. "You're not— You're not actually considering just letting this happen?

You're not that fucking stupid, are you? I don't believe it. I don't. I don't!" George stands, and Wilbur towers over him as he follows. "We can make a deal. Educate the humans, figure something out— No one has to die!"

Wilbur scoffs. "Humans are disgusting, foul dumbasses. If they didn't have us to feed off of, they'd have no damn chance in this fucking world. I thought you were better than this, George, really."

George is aghast. "Me?" He hisses. "I'm wrong? When you're the one belittling those who are our equals, if anything? They've invented shit to escape our grasp, time after time. This is a losing battle, Wilbur, you know that. This shit is just going to be the thing to push Magics over the edge if it isn't stopped."

Wilbur shakes his head. "George, you've gone soft, and I don't know why or how."

George crosses his arms, only glaring at the ground. He refuses to answer.

Because the taller is right— What has gotten him this soft?

Flickers of starry nights spent laying beside him, early mornings with their backs pressed together, laughing late into when they should be asleep. Blonde hair that falls in wisps over freckled skin, bright green eyes that crinkle at the edges when he smiles.