4. Trent Phoebe{ManxMan}

•CHAPTER 6

The very next day, I slept on the floor of his room, on fur that was so soft I was actually comfortable and being surrounded by my father's scent it was easy to feel at ease.

We were sadly rudely awakened.

The door to his room slammed open, "you sniveling rat!" A man's voice yelled as I sat up. My father was already on his feet. "You think I wouldn't notice if you make no sales for three straight days? What do you think you're here for y-" I was awake now, watching my father bow his head, his hands folded in front of him.

The big burly man with a thick beard caught my eye. "What's this? You dare invite strangers into my shop?"

The resounding slap had me seeing red. I stood and barreled for the man who dared to slap my father. I had caught his wide panicked stare and then before I could even do anything I was stopped. It felt as though I had hit a wall, the shimmering dome before me caught me off guard and I looked at him, staring at me with wide eyes.

"You think because I did you a favour and offered you a room, that meant it was yours?" The human had barely noticed how I had nearly attacked him and focused instead on my dad. "You owe me 3 days worth of money boy, and your going to get ever penny even if you have to sell your soul." He spoke low and threateningly, and I was helpless as he poked his finger at the side of my dad's head, causing his head to turn to the side again and again.

"I understand, sir." He answered and the man gave him another slap.

"And he better be out, or you'll be out of a place and a job!"

The shimmering some melted down as though nothing had happened and I couldn't help but just stare as my dad went on to making his bed and gathering my blankets. It was as though the last seven minutes had not just happened.

I growled thickly and grabbed the blankets from him, throwing them down. "Why would you let him speak to you that way!?"

I was enraged, seeing my dad being bullied, treated like some pathetic filth on the floor had me in a state. "What's the point?" I blinked at him, my anger simmering as he spoke so softly and barely met my eye. "At the end of the day, he's right." He looked at me then. "I didn't sell anything, he hasn't made a profit and yet here I am, fed and clothed and under a roof. Can you really say it isn't fair?"

I blanched, my mouth opening and closing at his logic. "But you're a human being." He smirked bitterly.

"What's the point if I'm not useful?" I felt the air suck right out of me then as he bent and picked up the fur and blankets like nothing happened. I felt my heart beating painfully as I watched him pack his room neatly as though it were never touched, as though nobody lived here.

Then he went and started the day, feeding the horses and cleaning up before opening the shop again and polishing, I helped silently, watching him and feeling bitter about how I didn't have a response to him.

"You don't deserve to be treated that way." I told him finally and he didn't look at me. "It's not your fault nobody came to buy any of this." I looked around as the assortment of tools and gear. "These aren't necessarily things people buy all the time, after all."

He stood then and walked around the table. He was tense as he went to the opening and looked around. "I should at least try." Was all he said before he began stopping random people and asking if they don't need equipment his shop sold. I watched feeling lost and drained and utterly sad about it.

It was honourable of him to want to try and be a good salesman, it just made me feel bad watching him get turned down and have people spit at him like it was okay. No matter how hard I tried to intervene or help he wouldn't look at me or acknowledge me until we had to close.

He was quiet as he stared at the large door that would usually be open to show we are ready for business. "I get it." He began and turned to me. "You're not from here, this is your time," he used air quotes. "But this is how it is here. You work for someone else and that means your poor and nobody is allowed to respect you. Maybe it's normal in your time to stand up for yourself but around here," he shook his head and frowned. "That's like begging for jail."

I blinked at him then. "This morning..." I paused. "You stopped me why?"

"Because he would have had you jailed and killed by morning." I blinked as he looked at me like I was an idiot and I resisted the urge to smile.

"I thought you felt I was dangerous." He blanched then.

"You are."

"Then why not just let me get in trouble."

"Then-" he stopped and glared at me before rolling his eyes. "Whatever."

I smiled realising he didn't want to see me in trouble, that despite having no control over himself, his magic responded to his need, his strong desire to stop me and thus I was halted.

We made dinner together in silence, he clicked his tongue at me randomly and I chuckled realising he was probably pondering how he hadn't had a very strong argument about not wanting to see me in trouble.

Then after we ate he dusted his hands and looked at me. "Now teach me." I blinked at him before recalling the previous nights conversation and swallowed.

"Uhm..." I scratched my head nodded staring at him. "I'm not gonna lie, I have no idea how I'm supposed to do that." His eyes glinted before he looked towards the small fire. "All I know if that, so far, your magic is tied to how you feel, what you want and need." He was looking at me again and I felt nervous because I was out of my depth. "Well, when I'd eavesdrop on my brothers and sister's lessons," I smiled fondly at the memory. "I remember uncle Theo telling them that magic is about you," I stared at him purposefully. "What you think, how you think, the way you move, down to how you breathe."

His brows were furrowed in confusion and I smiled. "You want to hide, more than anything, be invisible and thus, you are." I told him and he tilted his head. "If you believe yourself to be unnoticeably, like, imagine your powers in the form of an object you can easily hide." I said to him trying to think about it practically according to the explanations I had overheard. "Picture it that way and put it in a place nobody could find."

"Wait, so, you want me to imagine my... Powers, as if they're something, a hooves or nail and then put it somewhere?" He blanched and rolled his eyes. "You're crazy."

"No," I laughed. "I'm serious, like, think of it as a nail, then put it in your pocket, think about how you want this nail to just not be seen or felt but anyone else."

He pouted, his form slumping and I gave him a look like he can't knock it till he tries it. He shook his head and sat up straight, he swallowed and I could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. He moved his head side to side and with furrowed brows stared at the fire.

His scent, his power was strong, I was able to sit beside him unaffected but only because it didn't scare me or make me feel as uneasy as it would anyone else.

I watched him then hold his one hand up and stare at it, he closed his eyes then and I told him to breathe deeply and focus on hiding it, focus on all his power seeming to flow into the form of a single nail and then hiding it in his pocket.

For a moment nothing happened, but then slowly, as though a force had stopped pushing at me, had began to melt off of me, I felt as his power, the strength of it melted away, it was as though there was nothing for a single brief moment and then it was back as he opened his eyes.

"Did it work." I gasped as I was slammed with his energy and blinked.

"Almost," I grinned at him and coughed slightly. "Almost there."

A\N
Written: 5 April 2022