Inkling

8.5 The Sinister Influence of Ira Rose - Power

New York City 1882

Everyone in the Rosenberg family was always telling Ira how powerful he was, how he was going to change their world and do amazing things. Ira would smile at this and at what he knew and they did not: Ira was training a young magician who was even better than he had been. Ira thought he had everything figured out. He would court a sweet, young magician from a pure bloodline (Elle Duvore, perhaps), he would train Max to be an amazing performer (and even more amazing practitioner), and when the time was right he would take over his father's place in the Council and bring about reform to their ways.

They did not treat the faeries and elves and vampires with the respect they deserved. Magical education was not easily accessible for those of lower classes. Magical education for the upper classes was too boring, and did not cover the important things, like how to create a spell and how to properly recite a spell in public without drawing attention to oneself.
Ira had issues he wanted solved and he had a young, demanding Max to inform which meant he would need to be better informed himself.
He needed a way to ask a teacher or older magician about the blue gunk which Max vomited, and which bled from his nose and ears whenever he overexerted himself. But he needed to ask without getting in trouble or worse, getting caught. It was not illegal for Ira to teach another magic, but it was illegal for Max to be practicing magic without the correct papers and without the proper training. Which Max could not afford. Which Ira was not willing to hand Max off to. His little ball of rage and pure, sharp power.

Max could cut off the street lamps by snapping his fingers or pretending to sneeze. He could whisper a spell so quietly, Ira could not even hear when he was standing very close. Max was quieter than was normal, for a child of his age. He never yelled or cursed and when he did it was in spanish and hardly anyone around knew what he was saying anyway.

"I do not care. I have never in my life cared about something less." He could be a pain and uncooperative and annoying, too.

"Well, you should care. You should care very much because this is your life and if you are caught doing that type of magic you will be arrested." Ira was saying seriously. Max was rolling his eyes.

"I will just escape them and be off." Now Ira was rolling his eyes.

"You are twelve. There is nothing you can do that any member of the Council cannot do backwards, with their eyes closed, underwater." They were both rolling their eyes and Max was losing interest and Ira was losing patience. This was not part of The Plan.

"You are not taking this seriously, Max. They could take you away and with powerful people like that, who knows what they'll do with you." Ira paused for a moment and when he next spoke his voice was much softer. He was talking more to himself at this point. "Who knows what they'll do with me."

"I do not see why you're afraid of those cabrones." Max's voice was light and joking, but his eyes were concerned. He knew there was something more going on that Ira was not telling him about, another reason to be afraid of the powerful elders who sanctioned and regulated and controlled everything.