Beginner's Guide to Wishmaking

Chapter 8: You Knew This from the Start

Felix woke up to the sound of claws tapping against the floor. He blinked groggily, trying to place the unfamiliar noise. It took him a moment to remember where he was—his new quarters at the Wishmaking Organization.

The bed was softer than what he was used to, and the room had that sterile, impersonal feel of a place designed for transient occupants. Well, no, actually. The place was so sterile it practically reeked of "corporate dormitory."

The tapping grew louder, more insistent, and Felix finally sat up, his hair a messy halo of red and squinting in the dim light. At the foot of his bed, the silver fox—his fox—was staring at him with what he could only describe as impatience.

"Do you ever sleep?" Felix muttered, running a hand over his face. The fox just tilted its head, unimpressed. With a heavy sigh, Felix dragged himself out of bed and opened the door. The fox slipped through the gap, darting out of the bedroom with a silent urgency that Felix couldn't help but find amusing.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Felix grumbled, throwing off the covers. He shuffled over to the door, still half-asleep, opening it just enough for the fox to dart out. "What's the rush, anyway?"

But the fox didn't answer—of course it didn't. Felix sighed and followed it out into the hallway, noting how the early morning light filtered through the high windows. The building was quiet, the usual buzz of activity not yet in full swing.

The building was eerily quiet in the early morning light, which suited him just fine. Less chance of running into someone who'd try to rope him into "training" or—God forbid—one of those weird meditation sessions. Well, he didn't know where the fox was leading him, but at least he had an excuse: "oh, my fox went..." bla, bla, blaa. The fox looked incredibly indigent at his slow speed, and he figured it had something to do with the whole "familiar" business Cain had hinted at. Familiar. The word felt strange in his mind, like something out of those fantasy novels he used to sneak into his room as a kid, or the ones in webnovels he consumed....begrudgingly as an adult. Not that he'd admit that to anyone.

The fox led him through a series of corridors, turning left and right with an air of purpose. Felix was barely awake, but curiosity kept him going. What could be so important that this creature was dragging him out of bed at the crack of dawn?

Finally, they reached a small courtyard, tucked away from the main part of the facility. It was quiet, the air still cool from the night before. In the center of the courtyard stood a large stone basin, filled with water that shimmered unnaturally in the morning light.

The fox hopped up onto the edge of the basin, staring into the water. Felix hesitated, then walked over to join it. "What's this about?" he asked, half-expecting the fox to answer him this time. Hm. Considering his luck, it might just answer.

The fox hopped onto the basin's edge and stared into the water. Felix crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby column. "Alright, what's the big reveal? If this is some kind of spirit-animal bonding exercise, I'm gonna need caffeine first."

But then the water started rippling, which caught his attention. Felix frowned, stepping closer as the ripples darkened into a swirling vortex of colors. When the image finally settled, he saw a forest—one he recognized immediately.

It was from years ago, a camping trip with his sister. He was trying to start a fire, but what he'd forgotten—or maybe never noticed—was the little spark that flared up in his hands before the actual fire caught. The realization hit him hard enough to knock the remaining sleep from his system.

Wait, did I...?

To his surprise, the water in the basin began to ripple, though there was no wind. Felix leaned in, watching as the surface of the water darkened, the reflections twisting and warping until they showed an image—a scene from another place, another time. The scene shifted, and shifted, the image dissolving into a swirl of colors before solidifying again. This time, it was more recent. Felix saw himself at a party, laughing with friends, a drink in hand. But the laugh didn't reach his eyes, and when he looked closer, he saw a faint glow around his hands as he made a half-hearted wish for the night to end quickly.

The fox nudged him, pulling Felix out of his trance. He blinked, the images fading as the water returned to its normal, calm state. "What... what was that?" he asked, looking down at the fox.

But the fox just tilted its head, as if to say, You know what it was.

Felix took a step back, running a hand through his messy hair. "You're telling me I've had magic all along? That it wasn't just some freak accident that I ended up here?"

The fox didn't answer—again, of course—but Felix didn't need it to. The pieces were starting to fit together in his mind. Those strange occurrences, the moments of unexplained luck or coincidence—they weren't random at all. They were signs, little hints that something inside him had been stirring for years.

He was, what? Putting his head down the water?

"Okay," Felix said, his voice steadier now. "So I've got magic. Big deal. I'm still the same guy, right? Just...oh, who am I kidding."

The fox finally jumped down from the basin, trotting over to Felix's side. It brushed against his leg, the warmth of its fur grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't alone in this. Whatever this was.

Just then, Cain appeared at the entrance to the courtyard, his expression unreadable as always. Always appearing when it suited him. Ugh. "I see you've had a bit of a revelation," he said, his face unbothered.

Felix crossed his arms, feeling a bit defensive. "Yeah, something like that. But you already knew, didn't you?"

Cain shrugged, leaning casually against a pillar. "Would you have believed it if someone told you? Or would you have brushed it off as nonsense?"

Felix opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. Cain had a point. "Alright, fair. But what's the deal with this?" He gestured to the basin. "Why show me this now?"

"The signs were there, but it wasn't something I could just tell you. You had to see it for yourself."

Felix rolled his eyes. "Of course. The old 'let the student discover the truth on their own' trick. Classic mentor move. Old men love that shit."

The other man huffed.

"This isn't something to take lightly. Your magic core—it's been active for a long time. The fact that you're only realizing it now.... you've been flying under the radar."

"Flying under the radar?" Felix echoed. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Cain's expression grew serious. "Both. It means you've got a lot of untapped power, but it also means you're vulnerable. Others might sense that power and want to take advantage of it—or snuff it out before it becomes a threat."

"Flying under the radar means you've got a lot of untapped potential," Cain explained. "But it also means you're vulnerable. There are people—or things—out there that would love to get their hands on someone like you. That's why you need to learn control, fast."

Felix let out a slow breath, the weight of Cain's words settling in. "And how exactly do I do that? I'm not exactly a straight-A student when it comes to magic."

Cain's grin widened. "Lucky for you, I'm not exactly a straight-A teacher. We'll figure it out as we go." YOLO, huh?

Felix stared at the rising sun. The dawn painted the land, washing over the grass with sunlight and dew. It looked pinteresque. It looked calm. The weight of Cain's words sinking in. "So what do I do? Just keep training? Hope I don't, what, be part of a, a statistic or something?"

Cain stared at him, ruffling his head. His hand was firm, unshakable. He looked out into the open scenery, against the swirling shapes of the fog and mist that hid this world from the outside. A world untouched. This is your world now.

"No. No, you won't."