✨ A Little Bit of Magic || READER X RAY || The Promised Neverland

✨ Chapter Fifty Seven

"Where'd you even get all this shit?" I couldn't help but to grin at the large encyclopedia-like book Nigel dropped onto his bed. The size of it could have been the first series in the world atlas, the worn black leather cover of it hinting at its history. "Stole it." He replied nonchalantly, flipping each page with a sort of carefulness I'd never seen from the rude boy. "From who?" I asked, flopping onto the opposite side of the mattress. His unfolded blanket and bedsheets made for that to a difficult task. Though his room was messy, it was a sort of organized clutter, like how you know what's in what pile, and actually cleaning everything would turn your head into the real mess. 

"Isabella," He smirked, finally stopping at a page yellowed with age. 

I slapped my forehead, not surprised but disappointed regardless. He shot me a glare, shoving the dictionary-sized read in between us. "Don't give me that look. That bitch deserved it. The book wasn't hers to begin with, so I was doing what was right." I clicked my tongue, a small fire growing in Nigel's icy blue eyes. "Ugh, why do you hate her so much Nigel? This is completely unreasonable. At least stop yourself from calling her names." 

A spark. That's what it looked like. His eyebrows shot downwards, a ridiculously agitated expression washing over his face. Even through his question, he kept that same angered frown on his lips. "Would you forgive the person who killed your family? Who took everything from you?" 

I stopped a gasp from escaping my lips. Nigel was orphaned because of Isabella? But how could that be? He didn't even live in this city!

He seemingly read my mind, that cold glare he'd kept on me quickly softening. "You know the Magical High Committee's influence is suffocating in other towns, right y/n? We have it easy here. Grace Field city, with Grace Field academy- it's all easier here because Isabella is. They trust her with order in this stupid old town, and whichever unlucky presence her soul senses that day... They're losing everything. And I lost everything."

Elves were born for magic. Though a subspecies of humanity, the elves were anything but sub-par. Supposedly, they were more beautiful. Smarter, faster, and obviously, more magically talented. 

While humans were limited to a single affinity, elves were not. And oftentimes, an elf would have a magical capability embedded into their soul. All elves had the capability to sense each other, though faintly, and briefly, Isabella's magic capability was 'seek'. It was the reason why she was so crucial to the Magical High Committee. Every other month, year, or even decade. She'd get a sort of vision, an internal compass leading her to the exact location of another elf. And when that did happen she'd send it to some hunters, who made quick use of the information.

Nigel said that's what became of his family. Just another bounty, just another month. Or year. Or decade. 

"Anyways," He tried to smile, but the dreary atmosphere of the room left us both in a stifling silence. "The All-Seeing Eye," He tapped the page he'd stopped at. "You can try to learn to use it, I guess. I'm gonna- I'm gonna use the bathroom." His weight at the other end of the bed lifted, as I watched him walk into his private restroom. Our gazes met, and he chuckled. "Stop- Stop that, I'm literally going to pee." I smiled too, not being able to resist the contagiousness of a laugh. "Stop what?" "Stop staring at me, silly!" We giggled one last time before he closed the white door with a click. 

Now that was surprising. Instead of stupid, or idiot, he called me silly. 

It felt good not having to hold back. It felt good having someone to understand. Someone you could tell everything to, someone who could understand your grief. 

Though Nigel's was probably a hundred times worse than mine, because he didn't have an Emma or Norman by his side, maybe I could be that to him now? His rock. His friend. 

"What the hell are you smiling at?" He asked, wiping his hands off with a towel. He threw it on his desk, the organized mess in the room accumulating to just becoming the latter. I shouldn't say this. But I will anyways. "You, Nigel." 

"What?"

"I'm smiling at you." 

He stumbled away, as if taken aback by my words. His face turned tomato red, that leather pilot hat of his being pulled all the way down his face. I laughed again, making myself comfy at the head of his bed. He glared at me with his electric blue eyes, the blush on his contrasting the two colors. He mumbled something like "I hate you so much y/n," but it only sent me further into my giggling. 

I wiped a tear away from my cheek. How long has it been since I laughed this much? Have I ever been this content in my life? 

Well yeah, actually. With Ray. But that was before I found out his mom might want to kill me. 

"Hey, stop laughing! Read the book! That's why you're here y/n, for the book! Magics, remember? The forbidden ones?" I nodded my head, catching my breath as all the laughter finally left my chest. 

"The eye, the tectonic shifting, blood bending, blue fire, resurrection, wait-" Nigel flipped back to the Resurrection page. Only half of the paper was still binded to the book. The bottom half, the spell part, was ripped apart, and nowhere to be found. "God damn it," he hissed under his breath. I patted his back, trying to console him. "A lot of pages in this thing are missing, Nigel. It's not our fault or our problem." He cooled down surprisingly quickly, and agreed. "Look at what's left, y/n." 

Everything in the book was written in a different hand. Some pages were barely legible, others were neatly composed, organized with time and thoughtfulness. The Resurrection page was somewhere in between, and somehow strangely familiar. This person seemed to care an awful lot about this subject, but the further we read, the harder it was to make out. Like the more they thought about it, the more it hurt.