Embers of Magic

I Get Myself A badass Minion

As a child, the most mundane of objects would tempt you. Your mind warped its reality through your imagination, a bath filled with water becomes a kraken infested ocean - a mountain can quickly become a furious volcano, brimming with unbearable heat. That's what tonight felt like. I couldn't sleep, no matter how hard I tried.

Every single one of my thoughts wove together closely, intertwining into a single strand with a single outcome - the energy I felt in that room. But, what I felt back then couldn't compare to what I felt now. It was a mere feeling of curiosity, now, pure temptation. I felt a voice urging me on to open it, warm and loving - familiar yet devastating.

I slipped off my bunk and placed my feet onto the frozen tiles as I caught a glimpse of the bunk above me. Vacant, obviously. That's how it has always been. My life always felt vacant and I could never figure out why. Each time I looked at my friends back at home, I felt as if I was missing something. I could never spend a night a camp fire without feeling as if I were meant to do something else. It was a vacancy I couldn't fill, neither could my parents.

I stood up shaking off the stiffness in my legs as I wandered through the door, nearly in a daze. I knew this place. I've been here before. And, I had no idea why he felt I needed a tour. Probably, a means for him to spend more time with me before burying himself into his work, once more. I dragged myself through the corridor, my hand trailing on the wall behind me as I made my way through the darkness. This is the time people usually pulled out their phone, but I didn't own one. I found them counter productive.

A light glowed faintly under the door at the end of the hallway, creeping through the shadows until it fell at my feet as I followed. Every single door handle attached to the doors leading to the end were perfectly finished - so clean that a fly wouldn't bother landing on it. The last was different. The handle seemed worn down, the finish slowly chipping off due to use. Cold to the touch. I inhaled silently as I slipped the door open, realizing I hadn't known what to ask. Would I ask about the jar in the Greek wing? Yet, he hadn't been bothered by it so could I have been wrong? Was it possible it was never there?

No. It was there. Even my heart had began beating into the direction of the Greek wing by now. I knew there was something special about it. Something magical. Felix was right. The answers I needed about my mother was in this place. It was there. All I needed was to open that jar...

"Ember?" My father's voice sent a jolt through my body as I realized I was standing in the doorway. My dad sat with a forest of books on his desk arranging from mythology to witchcraft. If he hadn't owned a museum, it would have brought up a question.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to... " I trailed off. I was about to mention the jar, yet I couldn't. I felt a cloud pass over me, restricting what I could see and what I could think. "I'm going back to bed. See you in the morning." I lied as walked back out, shutting the door behind me.

I moved through the museum until I reached the Greek wing. The feeling had been strong now - like standing into the middle of the storm, pelted by hale as thunder shook the world around me. I pushed forward until I could see the jar at the end of the corridor in front of me. I took one last deep breath as I stepped forward.

I dropped to my knees feeling as if I traveled around the world fast enough to rearrange my internal organs - my heart thundered in my throat and my breathing stayed shallow, no matter how hard I tried. I looked up, staring into the Pithos as it drew me closer. I hadn't realized I was no longer in the museum until after I reached the jar.

The instant I opened it, I felt my body being thrown back with so much force that my soul separated for a few seconds. I caught glimpse of shadows as they flew by at tremendous speeds, all screaming to be free - happy and thankful to me - their hatred nearly intoxicating. I hit the ground.

I opened my eyes to find myself sprawled across marble floors shrouded in frosty mist. Ahead of me stood a women in a white robe so long that it left a pathway through the mist behind her - her form seemed as wispy as the mist but not ghost like. It felt like staring at a memory that was no longer there, your brain failing to comprehend it. What startled me the most was her face, or rather, faces. The shifted constantly through three familiar forms, one of them my own. I shock my head as I stood up weakly.

"Ember." She spoke as her faces all became one. They say when you're away from someone for a long time, their voice is the first thing you'll forget. Followed by their face and eventually everything about them. Yet, her voice wasn't something I could easily forget. It sent me back further then I could have ever dreamed. I was sent into my childhood home before the fire tore apart everything I held dear. I heard a voice, the voice of my mother, as she sung a lullaby to the younger me.

"This... " I struggled to gather my thoughts. "This can't be real! It doesn't feel real... " It didn't feel like the last room. This one felt like a dream. "You're not wrong. This isn't real. However, you aren't right, either."

"What the heck do you even mean? I'm not right but not wrong either? It makes no sense!"

"I'm afraid nothing from this point would make any sense, Ember. I hate to ask this of you but there truly is no other way anymore." She spoke, now right in front of me. She placed her hand onto my cheek as her misty form faded for a second. "Close the Pithos and find me. However, you must leave now. It's not safe here."

"But I just found you. How could I leave?"

"I'm sorry, my daughter. But, there really is no other way. You need to tame your fire, for I no longer control the servants of magic. Close the Pithos. Find me." She said one final time, her voice trailing off as she held my hand. The mist faded along with the rest of the room.

When I opened my eyes, I finally in the museum once again - this was real. This was normal. The only thing that hadn't been normal was the legionair in front of him, his Gladius moving directly towards my chest. I knew I was supposed to move, yet, I was frozen in fear. His skin sunk into his bones like some sort of zombie and his eyes glowed a sickly shade of yellow.

Before I could move, he dropped onto his knees with a silver blade sticking through his chest. He quickly grabbed hold a silver line digging into his skin, trying desperately to dig it out as it glowed red, getting hotter by each second until he dropped down hopeless and headless.

His killer wound up the wire and tucked it away as she slipped her blade from out of his back, slipping it into its sheath. She stared at me, her eyes glowing coldly while her red hair flickered like fire. Headless bodies were scattered at her feet, all of them slowly beginning to disintegrate.

"Get up. It's not safe here."