Soul Searching

Chapter 2

"Is this necessary?"

"Ask Uncle Thomas," I bite back and lay a crystal in the farthest corner of the shop. "The last time he ran into a sorcerer was the last time I saw his left ear."

"Is Thomas even alive anymore?"

Julius lazily lies down next to me as I tap on the crystal, muttering obscenities as it flickers on and off. My limited magic pulls it from its sleepy coma, but it takes a few tries. Its purpose is to alert me of anything supernatural that wanders in off the streets. Specifically sorcerers, the pesky little fuck balls. Plus, it's a wonderful explosive device when all else fails.

"How would I know?" I reply in a grumble. I tap the jagged surface again and it flares brightly. "Ha!"

Julius looks entirely unimpressed, but when the crystal begins to weep out magic, signaling it's saturation, I sit back and have a mini celebration. The shop is decorated with crystals that range from the size of my fist to the size of my thumbnail. I place it next to the register and watch as it dims to its normal color, but remains a protective presence.

It's a precaution and a bit presumptuous. Actually, it's entirely xenophobic towards the magical species, but sorcerers give me the heebeegeebies. Everything about what they are and what they stand for doesn't sit well with me. Considering my own branch of magic is quite dark, that's saying something.

Their magic is twisted and unnatural, going against the grain of the binary that establishes light and dark as opposites, as well as life and death. Sorcerers tangle with death in a way that tricks life. It stems from their corruption and the greed to accumulate more and more energy by cheating life. They were not thankful enough for the gifts given to them by their creator. Not to mention they have no boundaries between light and dark, crossing the border unlawfully and tricking the system out of some perverse sense of entitlement. Stealing death of her rightful souls costs them their own soul in return. Their souls end up like dust because of their greed. Coming across one makes me sneeze.

And don't get me wrong, I'm up for rule breaking. Sucking the energy out of someone until they're simply a husk of bone and sinew is not breaking the rules. Stealing magic and stripping someone of their life is past being wrong. I have some morals, and sorcerers were clearly out of bounds for me. They were for most people.

"Why would a sorcerer need wolfsbane?" I ask absentmindedly as I look at the crystal. It's a Monday and it's rainy, throwing the shop into all sorts of gray abysmal-ness. No one has come in yet but that's not surprising. The Catholics and Protestants are a 9 to 5 working group. The retired townspeople are wary of this place.

"To kill a werewolf," Julius intones monotonously. He's always the darker, more intelligent opinion. "Something tells me those scars weren't made by kittens." That would be quite the battle, I have to admit. 

"Do you think he caught a werewolf?" It's disturbing - rather terrifying actually - to think about.

Julius yawns. "I would not doubt it. Their immortality was highly sought after when I was a kitten. Perchance the interest has re-bloomed."

I worry my lip with my teeth. "What type of moron would kidnap a werewolf from its pack?"

"A sorcerer." The look he gives me clearly says 'duh.'

I grumble and poke the crystal again as it flickers.

.

The crystals simultaneously burn brightly for a split second and I scream a little, making the woman I'm ringing up jolt.