The Magician's Vow: A Retelling of The Pied Piper of Hamelin

Part II - Chapter XX: Mornings & Mosaics

With the hake-root in his grasp and silence covering the house, Eugene was ready. 

“Haurite in vitam,” he whispered. Instantly, the hake-root withered away into dust. A course of energy flowed from the dead plant into his hands and out into his body. Without even looking down, he knew his body had filled out. His skin had lost its pallor and his bones were no longer so noticeable. Muscle had grown where it had once been centuries prior and his cheeks filled out from its sickly hollowness.

He quickly burned the remains of the hake-root away and painstakingly got to his feet. There were some things that magic could heal, such as mild burns, scrapes, cuts, and bruises. Other things like torn muscles and fractured bones would take up to much energy and had to be tended to in their own time. 

Eugene got up from where he had been sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room. The sun was barely peaking over the rooftops and chimneys. Usually, at this time, the scent of fresh bread would rise up from under the floorboards and through the cracks around the door. But the only smell was the heavy scent of soap that Mrs. Montgomery had placed in the top drawer of the dresser to replace the lavender that had gone “missing”. 

A soft chill had also found a resting place in the home. The fire places in the kitchen and parlor were obviously empty. What was going on?

Eugene quickly pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt and quietly descended the stairs into the kitchen. 

Mrs. Montgomery looked up from where she was taking out a loaf of bread from the pantry. “And what do you think you’re doing?” She set the loaf onto the table and placed a hand on her hip.

“Sitting down?” Eugene said.

“‘Sitting down’? My dear, there is no time for ‘sitting down’ especially when you are clearly not ready.”

“Ready?” Eugene looked around. The kitchen was exactly as it always was, clean and functional. There was no indication that guests were expected. 

“For the Sunday service, of course!” 

Eugene struggled not to roll his eyes. He glanced up at Mrs. Montgomery and her expression clearly indicated that she awaited an answer of some sort. “I don’t think that would be the wisest decision considering my, er...condition.”

“Don’t be daft! If you’re feeling well enough to walk around on your own, I think you’re feeling well enough to sit in a church for a couple hours.”

“Now, Evelyn,” Arthur walked into the room and kissed his wife on the cheek, his nicest suit on and his pocket watch hanging from a golden chain. “Are you sure he is feeling up for it? It has only been a few days since his attack. I’m certain everyone will understand and no one will think the worse of him for not attending church.”

“But who has heard of staying home on a Sunday morning?”

Eugene glanced over at Arthur, but the old man only shrugged, a surrender.

Eugene sighed and hid his annoyance behind a discreet roll of the eyes. “All right, I shall accompany you.”

“That’s wonderful!” Evelyn smiled as if he had brought up the suggestion himself. 

Arthur folded his newspaper and tucked in under his arm. He clapped Eugene’s back and directed him to the hallway, his firm hand a consolation of sorts. “I have some of my father’s old clothing for you. They’re a little old fashioned, but seeing as he was quite a bit larger then I, they will most likely fit you better than anything I could personally offer you. And to help with that limp of yours, you can borrow one of my canes.”