Jacques DeVries

"I've got places to go, things to do, stuff to steal" Jacques DeVries | 30 | Medium { navigation pour mobile }

[jacques-devries]

Reposez en paix, Gaspard Ulliel

(1984 - 2022)

[jacques-devries]

DERMOT KENNEDY - “POWER OVER ME (ACOUSTIC)”

Call and I’ll rush out all out of breath now You’ve got that power over me, my my Everything I hold dear resides in those eyes You’ve got that power over me, my my The only one I know, the only one on my mind

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

Valeria opened her mouth to speak, but ultimately settled on giving him a nod. She understood that he had to leave and this time, she was used to him and his mannerisms. Valeria held her tea in her hands, letting it warm them up. She watched him carefully as he continued to speak. At least this time, he was going to say goodbye. All the other times he left, he never said a word and Valeria didn’t expect him to. She would have done the exact same. She nodded at him again and stared at the floor, ready to open the door back up for him to leave. What he said next caught her by surprise. “I…cannot come with you,” she told him. “I have my shop and my business. I can’t leave them.”

“Yes, you can” he countered calmly. Valeria could do anything she wanted to do with her life, she didn’t answer to anyone but herself, after all. He understood there could be some attachment to this place because of her family, objects they had owned, but at the end of they day things were just things, and work was just work, she could get that anywhere. The French thief got up, daring to stand closer to her than he had ever done before. His eyes settled on her before he repeated the words slowly, quietly “Come with me”.

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

After getting her revenge on Forsberg, Valeria felt at peace, but still unfulfilled as she sat in the middle of her shop. She stared at all the useless things that sat on the shelves. Things had changed drastically for her. She called her mother, telling her she loved her very much, but said nothing else before hanging up. At the end of the night, Valeria closed up her shop. She locked the doors, closed the blinds, and turned the sign at the front. She went upstairs to her apartment to turn in for the night. Valeria was making herself a cup of tea when she heard a knock at the door. She walked over and peered through the peephole and saw a familiar face. She pursed her lips and opened the door slowly. “Monsieur Devries,” she said softly. After a moment, she stepped to the side to let him in. She shut the door behind him and went to her kitchen to get her mug. “You’re leaving again, I assume.”

Valeria moved aside and he was welcome into her apartment, trying to make order of his thoughts and trying to decide what he should or shouldn’t say before he said goodbye to her. Again. “You know that I must. Forsberg was my protection, without him I’m a target for Maximilien once more” he mentioned as he casually strolled into her kitchen, taking a seat where he sat months ago as Val began to taught him more of his unlocked magic. “And Forsberg’s associates are on the hunt as well. They’re not suspicious of me, not yet, at least. But I don’t intend to stick around long enough for them to start to”. It was best not to mention that one of the Swedish kingpin’s associates was mildly suspicious of him already. But Jacques planned on being long gone before Dobrev could get enough clues to prove the Frenchman had in fact been tied to Forsberg’s death. “I came to say goodbye” he said, looking at the young woman. It would have been smarter of him to stay quiet, to not say anything beyond those words. But looking at Valeria it was impossible for him not to say what he was actually thinking. “But it doesn’t have to be goodbye... You can come with me, chère”.

[jacques-devries]

@valeria-ortiz

“It’s me, chère” the Frenchman said after knocking on Valeria’s door. His car was parked outside, new license plates on -and another pair to change them along the way for extra security- and a suitcase with the few things of importance than he owed. Everything else he’d been selling over the past few days, discreetly, under the radar to avoid any suspicion to fall on him. With Forsberg mysteriously gone, chaos had ensued within the inner circle of thieves and killers the Swedish kingpin had been associated with. Maribel Salazar and Iain Callaghan had set their sights on old enemies of their dead associate while Xavier Dobrev was suspecting Jacques. He hadn’t straightforwardly said it but the French thief knew it was better not to stick around to find out whether or not Dobrev could prove his suspicions or not. He knocked on the door once more and the witch finally opened up. “Hi. I’m sorry to come at a late hour but- well, I couldn’t come earlier. May I come in?”.

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

“I want you to beg for mercy,” Valeria said as Forsberg began to curse them both. She didn’t even look at Jacques to see what his expression could have been. She hardly remembered he was there in that moment. It was only her confronting Forsberg. Only her getting her vengeance for her sister and grandmother. The birds swarmed above and came down in a dive, with two targeting Forsberg’s eyes. He screamed in pain as the birds pecked out his eyes and blood ran down his face like red waterfalls. 

Valeria pulled out a knife, and then slashed at Forsberg’s torso, right about where his liver should be. She remembered the myth of Prometheus and how an eagle would come to devour his liver every night. Birds continued to flock around Forsberg and started to eat him alive. Valeria knelt down as he lie on the ground and she held a knife to his throat. “Beg for mercy,” Valeria told him as a large eagle flew down, landing next to them. It didn’t matter if the man did or didn’t beg for mercy. He would surely die anyways. Valeria would be sure of it and she would feel no regret. 

Unknown profanities in a foreign language were spat out by the man but it didn’t matter because Forsberg was on borrowed time and the curses of a near-dead man mattered very little to Jacques. All that mattered in that moment was that the Swedish kingpin stubbornly refused to beg for mercy until the birds began to claw and bite at his eyes, but then he did. In between his screams he begged at Valeria. He pleaded without an ounce of pride for her to stop as the ravenous creatures devoured him alive.

It was hard to look, frankly. This wasn’t the first time the French thief saw a man face his death, but it had surely been the slowest one and possibly the most painful and violent once he’d ever witnessed. It was almost ominous how deathly quiet it got in just seconds after Alexander Forsberg was finally drained of any life, becoming a quiet bag of meat to be eaten by vicious birds of prey. Jacques swallowed once, standing a bit straighter when it was all done. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips for the briefest of seconds. He didn’t relish in the gory mess that was before him, but he did gain a sense of pride in a job well done. And theirs happened to be a bloody business.

“It’s over” he said in a low tone, keeping his eyes on Valeria, gauging for her reaction now that she had finally -and successfully- carried out her vengeance. It was over, dealing with Forsberg. But at the back of his mind the Frenchman couldn’t stop a voice from whispering that this was only really just getting started. Killing a man like Alexander Forsberg couldn’t end well, couldn it?

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

Valeria watched the car intently as it pulled up. The older man slowly got out of the car and his eyes got wide as he realized what had happened. Valeria held her hand up, sending him backwards and pinning him against the side of the car. “Señor Forsberg, do you remember me?” When he didn’t have an immediate reply, Valeria continued. “Because I remember you very clearly. I remember you storming into my family’s store. You and your men fired your weapons into the air to get our attention.” She stepped closer towards the man, but still kept a save distance. She still kept him pinned against the walls. “And then you started firing at anyone who wasn’t behind the counter.”

She took a deep breath. “Once they were dead, you fired at a girl behind the counter. She was my sister. And then you fired at the older woman. My grandmother. And as I came out from the back, a bullet went into my chest and shoulder. Everyone else died, but I survived. I thought I was lucky, but now I know it was so I could get revenge for them. So I can return the favor,” she said. A group of birds started to swarm around above them and the wind picked up again. “Do you have any last words?”

Forsberg realized a second too late what was happening. Not that he could have done much had he realized it earlier, but still. A man of his wit, his cruelty, could have done something to possibly kill Jacques before the Frenchman delivered him to Valeria. But no. It was too late. The Swedish kingpin was pinned to the car by the witch’s magic in no time and as the young woman recounted the events of her family’s murders, Jacques knew there was no way Alexander Forsberg would walk away from this. He’d known it from the start, but there was a true air of finality to it all as Val spoke of the gruesome events that effectively marked her forever.

Jacques stood still after he positioned himself to the side, an accidental vantage point where he could see the steely determination on Valeria’s eyes and an unreadable expression on Forsberg’s face. He heard the sound of flapping wings above and the cawing of the birds. He knew what would happen next because Val had done this to him before... but this time she wouldn’t stop the bird from eating away at Forsberg’s flesh and she certainly wouldn’t employ any magic to heal him afterwards as she’d done with him. This would be final.

The Frenchman wasn’t sure there would be any final words from Forsberg and for a while his silence extended, making him think he would embrace death like that. He was wrong. The Swedish kingpin cursed under his beath -possibly not only at her but also at Jacques- and kept staring ahead at the witch. His dying words weren’t of regret, of guilt, of shame. He made his peace with death by cursing his killer and the man that delivered him to her.

[jacques-devries]

SHAWN MENDES - “PERFECTLY WRONG”

There's no use, we were made to break I know the truth and it's much too late You're perfectly wrong for me And that's why it's so hard for me   Yeah, you're perfectly wrong for me Hate that you know that I won't leave

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

Valeria had waited years for this moment. This singular moment in time where she would finally have her revenge. She would do this for her family, for her beloved sister and abuela. She was prepared this time. Stronger, better, faster. She was more powerful than she’d ever been, armed with the new spells she’d learned. And not only did she have more power, but she also had someone on the inside. For the past months, she had trained Jacques and helped him hone his abilities. He was stronger now too.

They worked on a plan for months and waited until the perfect chance arose. Jacques had become a trusted member of Forsberg’s inner circle. Everything fell into place when he said that Forsberg wanted him to be his sole escort on his way to a meeting with an associate. With some simple trickery, Jacques could deliver Forsberg straight to her. She’d debated how she would get her revenge on Forsberg. For so long, she’d only dreamed of the day, never thinking that the day would actually come. And now, here she was, standing, waiting, watching to see when Forsberg would get to their rendezvous point.

Valeria watched the small, blinking red dot that was Jacques driving Forsberg. As the red dot moved to where they agreed to meet up, Valeria put her phone away. She moved into the clearing and waited for Jacques to get out of the car. They were far away from the city. They were in the outskirts where they could scream all they wanted and no one would come. Valeria slowly started collecting energy and power from the flora and fauna around her as she waited. The wind started to pick up for a moment as she absorbed the energy before everything settled. Val was ready now more than ever.

As Jacques drove on he couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing the right thing. Leading a man to his death couldn’t in any way be right in the strict ethical way, but it sure as hell as justified. Forsberd deserved what was coming for him. Val deserved to bring justice to her family, bring retribution in whichever brutal way she pleased. The Frenchman truly did believe that. And yet, all he could think about was that he was most likely just digging his own grave. He’d crossed Max and he wanted him dead. The Swedish kingpin had been his shield against the wrath from his former mentor and he was now actively working with a witch to get him off the picture. Without his protector around, Max would surely resume his hunt for Jacques’ head. And if by any reason it got out that he had been involved in this... Forsberg’s associates would come for him too. All he ever did was get himself drawn to more complicated and more dangerous situations. At this point the French thief was beginning to think a man like him was never meant to live a long life. A man like him was most likely fated to end up six feet under in just a few years. 

He drove on in silence, calm classical music playing, as that was what Forsbern enjoyed. Jacques could see past his own illusion and managed to distinguish Valeria’s form as he drove closer to her, finally parking the car. Without a word he killed off the engine and got out. His eyes found Val’s for a moment and he simply gave her a nod. He’d delivered her prey on a silver platter for her. The Frenchman went around the car to open the door for his employer, a man that was only living on borrowed time now. He would only live for as long as Val allowed. “Les péchés d'un homme le rattrapent toujours, Monsieur Forsberg” he told the man as he opened the door for him and then stepping aside. He let the illusion crumble in second, like pieces of glass shattering to show Forsberg the reality. To show him Valeria waiting there for him. His sins had caught up to him now and if the universe was really this intent on making people pay for their wrongdoings, maybe Jacques’ own sins would catch up to him soon as well.

[jacques-devries]

@valeria-ortiz

“Monsieur Forsberg” the Frenchman said in a polite manner as he entered the room, merely giving a quick nod to his employer to let him know it was all set. Time to leave. The Swedish kingpin responded equally, only with a nod. He grabbed a fine jacket from his coat rack. Forsberg was the kind of man that irradiated power, elegance and poise in the same way the old Italian men of mafia did, like in The Godfather.

Today’s task was simple. Escort Forsberg, keep him safe, so he could meet with Xavier Dobrev, one of his associates. Slowly but surely Jacques had become part of Forsberg’s inner circle in the past months, proving himself to his employer in every way possible. A clear conscience wasn’t something Jacques had ever possessed and it was certainly not something he would ever have, surely not after the tasks he’d had to carry out in order to truly sell his loyalty to his employer. Forsberg trusted him now. That’s how good of a liar Jacques DeVries was. And that was the reason that today’s meeting had been kept a secret between the French thief and the Swedish kingpin. No one else knew about it. That made it the perfect opportunity for Valeria’s recknoning, the perfect chance for her vendetta to take place at last.

Jacques drove his employer through the city, all while sharing his location with Valeria through his phone so she could track him at all times. At all times Jacques maintained an illusion for Forsberg, fooling him into thinking that he was seeing out the windows that route he knew so well to get to Dobrev’s estate. But no, the Frenchman drove towards the previously discussed rendevouz point where Valeria would be waiting for them. The place in the outskirts of town where Forsberg’s sins would finally catch up to him.

[so-pale-girl]

A pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

Teen (via menpale)

[milkywaybouquet]

Visit Original Link

[jacques-devries]

EMMIT FENN - “1995″

I thought I saw your face last night Hoping that could mean something

[faerydragon]

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

Valeria found Jacques to be a rather…interesting case. He had raw power at his disposal, and yet, he was less powerful than other mediums and magicians that she had come across in her travels. Still, she could find a way to train him to control his abilities and push them to their absolute limits. Seeing as he was not as aware of his mediumship, Valeria did not push more questions about it as he would not have the answers. “Different people draw their power from different places,” she told him. “Some draw it from within themselves, such as their mind or their soul should they believe that. Other people could draw their power from the elements. For me, I draw much of my power from plants and animals, but I can also draw the energy from the elements or within myself. You most likely draw your power from within yourself and use your mind more than other people with abilities. You could eventually learn to draw your power from other people or plant life.”

Valeria’s lips pulled back in a small smile that mirrored his as she pushed him to try and light the candle. She leaned forward against the table, watching him as he concentrated on the task at hand. Her smile faded away as she waited and soon enough, there was a small flame on the candle wick. She held her hand over the flame to feel the heat on her skin before removing it. “Well done,” she said. After a moment of silence, she opened her mouth to speak again. “We also draw power from something my abuela called la corriente. Other people call it different things, but it is difficult to explain. The best way that I can describe is that it is a place for souls that have not fully left this world. It in and of itself is almost like its own world.”

Valeria waved her hand, extinguishing the flame that Jacques had created. “That is enough for one night,” she said softly. “I do not want to overwhelm you with this all. There is much more for you to learn…but not tonight.” She did, after all, try to kill him tonight and she was sure that sort of stress on his body would be physically exhausting. She closed her notebook and her grandmother’s journal. The two books floated through the air, putting themselves away on the bookshelf nearby. Valeria needed some more time to process the information that Jacques had given her and she needed to talk to people for resources in her fight against Forsberg. “You may stay here or go back to your own home for tonight but we should resume training you tomorrow.”

The Frenchman frowned a little, a gesture of concentration as he listened intently to what the young woman was explaining to him. As ignorant as he was about magic and supernatural powers, he knew right away that Valeria wasn’t lying to him, she wasn’t giving him a bogus explanation of half-truths to take advantage that he was in the dark regarding such topics. He knew it was the truth because what she was saying did match with his own experience regarding his power. He drew the energy from himself. At first he would always feel tired after casting even the smallest illusion but eventually he grew to control that better, to endure more even with complex illusions, even with multiple ones happening at one and for a prolongued time. He still had to be careful, of course, and not overdo it or the exhaustion kicked in right away. But it was certainly very interesting to consider that he could eventually draw power from something else. If he weren’t wearing himself down, then what would be the limit of what he could do?

Valeria was most definitely not the smiling type. He couldn’t even remember if he’d seen her smile before, but it didn’t escape his notice the way the corners of her lips tugged up for a moment after he accomplished the small feat of lighting that candle. “La corriente?” he asked, unsure of what she meant by that. But as she kept on talking, it began to make more sense. Le courant. The flow of souls, the Soulstream, he’d heard it be called. But only because he’d heard about it didn’t mean he knew exactly what it was. Yet another topic that escaped him.

He still had questions for sure, but it was likely that there was so much more that the witch would have to explain to him and it wasn’t something that could be done in a single conversation tonight. Another time, it would be. “I wouldn’t want to impose. It’s not a very gentlemanly thing to do” the French thief stated with a charming smile as he got up, shedding away any seriousness from before without effort. There was much to think about, regarding Forsberg, regarding this more magical aspect of his power, and regarding Valeria. But of course, none of that reflected on his expression, all kept at bay by an easy smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then”. With his smile still etched to his lips, Jacques leaned down to her cheek as he’d done the night he gifted her the Ring of Gyges. Val hadn’t rebuffed that gesture the first time so he figured she might not do it this time either. For just a moment, as his lips brushed against her skin, his hand came to rest on her arm. As he pulled away, taking a few steps back, the thief was smiling again. “Oh, and I forgive you for sending your crows to attack me, chère. But only because you healed me and kept me from having a scarred face for life” he spoke in a casual, teasing tone, the one scar that was already carved into his cheek becoming accentuated by his smile. Then, giving the witch a light nod, he made his exit from her kitchen and from her house.

[jacques-devries]

LÉA CASTEL & SLIMANE - ABÎMÉE

Sens-tu le vide autour ? Imaginer sa vie dans un élan d’amour Comme une enfant abîmée Perdue dans ses nuits oubliées Dites-moi comment faire semblant Je me perds dans la machine du temps 

Do you feel the surrounding emptiness? Imagine one's life in a surge of love Like a damaged child Lost in their forgotten nights Tell me how to pretend I lose myself in the machine of time 

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

Valeria stared at the names, committing them to memory in case anything should happen to the notebook. First, she would pick off all the people who worked for Forsberg and then she would go straight for the leader himself. She would take away everything that made him strong by stripping away his assets and allies before finally taking his life. It seemed strange that after so many years of wondering who attacked her family and why, she finally had an answer in the form of an enigma named Jacques. It was so strange how fate pulled the two of them together. It was almost as if the universe wanted them to help each other take care of the darkest parts of their past and their ghosts. 

“I ask because most if not all of those with abilities such as yours are able to hear voices of the dead. It is another ability that we have because of where we draw power from,” Valeria replied. When her grandmother and sister died, she was still able to communicate with them, perhaps because she was so close to death due to the same incident that killed her grandmother in sister. Over time though, their voices faded and they visited less and less without a reason why. Her mother thought it was because they wanted her to move on and by them visiting, they would be holding her back and keeping her stuck in the past. Perhaps they were right about that, but now she could use their guidance. 

“You say you can’t, but do you know for sure?” Valeria asked him. “You have not tried any other magic other than your illusions. Wouldn’t you like to know what else you can do?” She raised her eyebrows at him. She held up a finger and pointed it at the candle. In a burst of light, the candle was lit, a small flame dancing around on the wick. After a moment, she leaned forward to blow the candle out. “Lighting a candle is simple magic. You can disguise yourself as a healthy man even when you were shot and bleeding. This will not be difficult unless you fight it. Light the candle. If you don’t or can’t, perhaps you are weaker than I thought.”

He could only hope that he hadn’t signed his death warrant by writing down those names for Val. He was burning his bridges by doing so even if they wouldn’t catch fire right away. But what was done was done. He was irrevocably allying himself with a woman that would bring forth hell to his current employer. This strange witch somehow seemed to be the person that could truly give him a shot at what he’d been trying to attain for the past years: his freedom. She had the will, and possibly the means, to end Forsberg and with him the deal that kept the Frenchman on the Swedish kingpin’s leash. And she also had the power to teach him how to truly free himself from Max. True power, not just illusions.

“I only hear the dead, I do not see them” the thief finally admitted. It was an odd thing to say out loud, something he had never revealed to anyone before. For some time Jacques believed he was going crazy due to the voices but eventually he discovered the voices weren’t inside his head, they were out in the world. Understanding that they were the voices of the dead didn’t do much to ease the young boy at the time, but he eventually got used to them and even learned to block those sounds out of his mind at will. So he didn’t always hear them, only when he opened himself to listen. “Where uh- where do we draw power from?” he hesitated somewhat to ask because it seemed like that was something he probably should have known. But like he said, he had never met anyone with magical skills before and he never had anyone teach him how to use his own power. It had always been him on his own, as in every other aspect of his life.

“I have not tried because I didn’t know there was more. I cast illusions because that power just manifested itself” the Frenchman replied matter-of-factly because that was the full extent of his magical knowledge. Jacques DeVries was a curious man and greedy with anything of value. It seemed he could also be those things with the notion of acquiring new power. Of course he wanted to know what else he could do but he just didn’t know how more magical skills could sprout out of him when he’d ever only been able of one. Lighting the candle seemed so easy, at least when Valeria did it. He couldn’t even imagine how he could create an actual flame like that. “I see what you’re doing. Trying to wound my ego to push me to do it?” the thief smirked at her before casting his eyes towards the candle. “It’s working” he admitted, still with a shadow of a smile across his lips before his face turned serious and he focused on the wick of the candle.

He didn’t know the first thing about magic but he knew how casting illusions worked, and as his only reference, he translated that process into this. It required concentration and commitment to make something happen. Jacques frowned as his focus deepened but after a moment his expression relaxed. Non, pas de tension. His breathing was easy, calm. Then, as he blinked, the candle caught a flame. “Voilà” the Frenchman smiled at her, a proud and cocky grin that also hinted at his own surprise that this thing actually had worked. “I promise I didn’t cheat, it’s not an illusion” he added with some mild humor behind his words.

[jacques-devries]

valeria-ortiz‌:

Neither Max nor Forsberg knew of Jacques’ abilities, which was an advantage on their end. It was a valuable secret, which Valeria knew the importance of keeping. She herself kept her own secret of her abilities and the true purpose of her family’s business. There was something more about the Ortiz sisters and the rest of the family as they were all blessed with magic. Magic was a delicate thing and Valeria couldn’t help but wonder how he possessed such a gift. If his mother knew, it was cruel of her not to teach her son the ways and consequences of magic. Valeria was lucky that her family learned and practiced magic and that she learned starting at a young age. 

Valeria finished writing all her notes down based on Jacques’ story and facts. She tried to remember the name Alexander Forsberg, trying to figure out if she’d ever heard the name before. Did her father know him? He was the one who always went out and had more active missions to collect artifacts than Valeria’s mother. Somehow, Forsberg knew of her and her family and what their business was. They took specific items from the store without targeting the money. He knew what he wanted and he took it, not at all regretting taking innocent lives. Valeria passed the journal across the table along with a pen for Jacques to write down the names of all of Forsberg’s associates. As he wrote the names and information down, Valeria stood up to collect another book from the shelves for Jacques to look at. She needed to train Jacques and hone his abilities if they were going to face two powerful men.

The woman started taking out some candles and then walked back over to the table. She nodded after listening to what Jacques had to say. He was lucky he hadn’t damaged himself from using unrestrained powers. Of course, he did not seem too interested in learning about his powers until now with enemies at their doorstep. “Do you hear voices of the dead?” she asked him. “There are many different types of magic, most of which you must learn. There is new magic and old magic. The magic you use is unbridled and unclaimed it seems. There are some small tests we can do to see if you have a particular affinity towards a specific type of magic, but what you continue to learn and practice is up to you. Light this candle, but do not use an illusion. If you use your illusion casting abilities, you will only be harming yourself.”

As Valeria scribbled her last notes, it seemed that her questioning had come to an end. At least for now. The Frenchman had questions of his own but he got a feeling that right now wasn’t the appropriate time to ask them. Another time, it would be. He glanced up from the notebook to her when both it and the pen were passed to him, but even in silence she could communicate just what she wanted. Jacques picked up the pen wrote down only three names. Maribel Salazar. Iain Callaghan. Xavier Dobrev. As he told her before, he wasn’t familiar with most of Forsberg’s associates, but those three he had met. The identy of the rest as well as how many there were remained a mystery for him. “Is all I know” he said in a low tone as he slid the notebook over the table back to her place, even though Val had already stood up to occupy herself with something else.

Do you hear voices of the dead? Her question threw him off. It wasn’t something anyone had ever asked him but the fact that she did made him feel like she knew something about him that not even he knew. The French thief turned to look at her, somewhat puzzled. “Why do you ask?”. Even if he didn’t directly answer, that question in itself was a vague way of confirming that he did indeed hear the dead. It was something of which he was distantly aware of, but he’d been aware of it for many years now. As Valeria went on talking, Jacques let out a light scoff. What, was she going to teach him magic now? It might have been arrogant of him, but the fact that he’d never needed to properly learn anything about his power gave him the idea that he didn’t need to be instructed at all. “C’est ridicule...” he muttered as he looked at the candle, his eyes finding Valeria again “I can’t do that. Illusions is what I do, not lighting candles, chère. That is not a power I have”.