Curse Of The Aswangs (The Vasquez Brothers #1)[COMPLETED]

32: JASPER

I sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, the small wooden table in front of me cluttered with scrolls, vials, and bowls of dried herbs. The earthy scent of sage and rosemary filled the air, mixing with the sharp tang of crushed roots.

My eyes traced the faded sigils on the ancient scroll, my finger following their delicate curves as if I could somehow feel the magic they held. Each symbol hummed with a quiet power, waiting for me to unlock it. The room was dim, lit only by a single candle that flickered and sent long shadows dancing across the walls.

Carefully, I reached into the bowl of powdered moonroot, my fingers trembling slightly as I remembered Jose's words: "The balance must be perfect, Jasper. One too many grains, and the potion will be poison." His voice was always in my head during moments like this, grounding me, reminding me of the stakes. With slow, deliberate movements, I mixed the powders, focusing on the task at hand. My hands, though scarred from countless hours of practice, moved with the precision of someone who had been doing this for years.

As I stirred the mixture, a thought crept into my mind—Rosie. Her sneering face. Her laugh, sharp and cruel, echoed in my head, just like the last time she and her friends cornered me after class. The bruise on my arm was still visible. For a moment, I imagined Frankie and me at school, slipping a few drops of this potion into her drink, watching her squirm for once.

Frankie would probably cheer me on, call it payback. He was the only one who understood—about Rosie, the bullies, and everything that lurked in the shadows of the real world. When I first told him about magic and the supernatural, I thought he'd laugh. But he didn't. Frankie always got it. He was more than just a friend—he was my partner in this weird life.

I hesitated, my grip tightening on the spoon as the liquid in the bowl shimmered. Part of me wanted to do it, to see Rosie humbled for once. Frankie had even joked about it the other day. "If I had powers like you," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "I'd make sure people like her learned their lesson real quick."

But then, the guilt crept in. Would using magic like that make me any different from her? The thought nagged at me, even as I imagined the satisfaction of seeing her taken down a peg.

Just as I was about to add the final ingredient, a knock at the door startled me. I quickly shook off the dark thoughts and looked up to see Jose standing there, his broad figure filling the doorway. There was a calm, commanding presence about him that always made me feel like a child, no matter how much I had learned.

"Still at it, huh?" His voice was rough, but not unkind. "You spend more time with those potions than you do with a sword in your hand."

I forced a smile, shaking off the lingering anger. Carefully, I sprinkled the last pinch of star petals into the mixture. The liquid shimmered before settling into a soft, glowing blue. Success.

"I'll need more than a sword if I'm going to survive what's coming, Tito Jose."

"Did you say that you can see ghosts?"

"Yeah, that sucks." It was like seeing someone who had no pants, waving his dick like 'Say hello to this long cucumber!'

He stepped into the room, crossing his arms over his chest. "True. But no potion or spell will save you if your instincts fail in battle. You think an enemy's going to give you time to mix powders and mutter words?"

I stood, wiping my hands on a cloth, meeting his eyes. "I know. That's why I need both—the knowledge to fight with magic and the strength to wield a sword."

Jose gave me a rare smile, one that barely touched his lips but warmed the space between us. "Your father would be proud. Now grab your sword. Time you learned what it really means to be a mandirigma."

I hesitated, glancing down at the glowing potion. The thought of Rosie flashed through my mind again, and for a brief moment, I considered what Frankie would say if I brought this to school tomorrow. Maybe just for protection. Or a little payback. It wouldn't hurt, would it?

"And this?" I asked, my voice steady.

Jose stepped closer, eyeing the potion curiously. "Bring it. You might find a use for it yet. But remember, Jasper, no potion can save you if you don't trust your gut."

With that, he turned and left the room. I took a deep breath, quickly sealing the potion into a small glass vial and tucking it into my belt. When I reached for my sword, it felt different today—heavier, or maybe just more real. I followed Jose out into the training yard, feeling the weight of my new reality settle on my shoulders.

I wasn't just a student of magic anymore, nor was I merely learning the ways of the blade. I was both—a mandirigma, destined to fight with my mind as much as my sword.

But as I stepped into the yard, I couldn't stop thinking about Frankie. And maybe, just maybe, I'd bring the potion to school tomorrow. Rosie wouldn't see it coming.