Technically Magic

Chapter Four: Home

With a very drunk Cob in tow, I proceeded to my next destination. It was approaching the awkward time of evening where the last legs of twilight sun still hung thinly in the air; not quite dark enough to light a lantern, but not bright enough that you won't trip over a loose stone that you swear has it out for you and tumble into the street, followed by your much too drunk friend tripping over you and they themselves wind up tumbling into the street, dropping the sweet hot pie you'd both been looking forward to eating once you'd gotten into the warm. That kind awkward time of evening we all experience. Just off of Rothley Street in the trade district sat our goal. The Wishbone Hourglass. A pleasant little shop which sold remedies, trinkets, and assorted odds and ends. I lived in the attic.

The proprietor of the store and the person I occasionally paid rent to was the ever enigmatic Lynn Sunkissed. Lynn was a feychild. The thought behind Fey-Children is that The Summer Court of Fey stole babies and replaced with Faerie children to be raised amongst the mortals and to act as a conduit between our realm and Euphoria. Whether or not Lynn is a child raised by the fey, or a replacement from Euphoria, or even just a regular person with a strong link to Euphoria is something they won't talk about. Nor myself, mostly because I'm not brave enough to ask. I'm not overly keen on confrontation.
The storefront of The Wishbone Hourglass was made of white marble blocks, which rose to three and a half floors. White marble was a rarity in Materan architecture, let alone the city of Lysa,l the structure could easily have been plucked out of a town on the Eyeberian Isles. It stuck out like a sheep in a vineyard and was covered in just as many odd purple splotches.
I flounced up the three marble steps to the ironwood door,. The door was made of interlocking veneered oak panels and the frame was painted a bone white, the outer side had an intricate carving on a near empty hourglass. Impressive, but ultimately frivolous. Lynn insisted it reminded customers that life is short, which somehow would make them more likely to purchase from them. I thought the design was there because it looked cool. The deep brown, flecked with grey, was a stark contrast to the rest of the building. I ignored the sign declaring the store as closed and rapped three times, paused, then rapped twice more in quick succession. No response. Dammit, I'd forgotten that no one had ever agreed with my idea of a private knock, nor secret handshake. I'd lost my keys twice this month and I couldn't afford to have a spare cut. Lynn wasn't answering my knocks, so they were either out or busy. I was slightly inebriated, so this seemed like a good idea at the time. I dug into the many pockets and pulled out an old bit of toast which I discarded, my Spare coal which I put back, and a worm which I promptly tossed into the air. Philippa snatched it with her beak. I checked the hidden pocket in my traditional pointed wizard's hat and found what I was looking for: a dead rose. Component. I focused my mind and crushed the decaying plant in my fingers; as I inhaled I pulled from Bleak. Bleak was always just within reach for me. The crushing hopelessness and the anxiety that hid at the back of my mind came forward and threatened to overwhelm me. I used it as fuel. Energy. I pressed my fingers to the cold unfeeling wood by the brass handle. I focused my mind on feelings of decay and loss. Goal. The wood began to discolour and slowly rot away around my fingers, just enough for me to push my hand through, followed by my arm. I grasped around until I felt the spare key on the side table,. I slumped my head forward on the door, then glanced briefly at the hard to spot patchwork holes in the door which exposed the many times I'd had to do this before. Silent tears ran down my face. What a pathetic excuse for a wizard I am. Abusing magic because I can't find my keys. I'm hopeless, how am I supposed to help anyone? I won't be able to find Durai. I might as well decay myself; at least then I'd feel nothing on the outside as well as in. I sat,overwhelmed by my brain. I struggled to force the depression back down. It's not as easy as 'just think happy thoughts'. You have to present reasonable counter-arguments to yourself, which is easier said than done. Sometimes you just have to accept the bleakness as part of you. I stood up straight and opened the door from this side with the keys that I'd just procured, a smile on my face, to let Cob and myself in.