Your blood was boiling just as badly as this brew. It took a considerable amount of effort to slowly blend the ingredients rather than whip them into a frenzy. How dare he. Who the fuck did he think he was, or who you were for that matter? Gwen Walker, the young version of your tutor from years before, always- somehow- had a way to get under your skin. Perhaps in another life you two would be good friends, bonding over the feeling of being misplaced and unwanted, or over your shared excitement for the unknown in each of your professions. But instead he was a lousy, no good, piece of shit who pushed people away an—
The bubbles brought you back. You stop stirring altogether. Take a breath. And gently get back to it, focusing on your plan rather than the reason behind it. The magic ink added to the smaller cauldron was blending in nicely, turning the shimmering liquid black with only a few drops. In a day the liquid would boil out and leave a giant pearl at the bottom. Pearls were known for their wisdom, and were often wished upon due to their rarity. At least, that’s how your book had described things.
Within a week, your threat was complete.
“I told you I’d be back” He wasn’t one for formalities, and right now neither were you.
“And here I was hoping you’d finally lied to me.” Gwen sighed, not looking up from his project. He had a tiny foldout table over his knees and seemed to be using tweezers to add tiny white flakes of… Something into a green, slightly smoking liquid of… Stuff. Whatever.
“It’s rare that I lie, and even moreso when it’s that blatant.” You stop at his feet, gently pushing down the urge to kick his stupid science glasses out of the way. That would make you a bully, and as much as you hate the guy, you were that childishly malicious. “Here”
He finally glances up at you over his huge round glasses, raising one eyebrow while he was at it. Squaring your shoulders, you hold the pearl out. It was about an inch and a half in diameter but unnaturally lightweight.
“If my life was so much better than yours, than take it. Wish for a trade, if you’re so inclined.”
“What, and leave this lovely lap of luxury going for me now?” Was his sarcastic response, gesturing around the room. Ghostie’s temple was a little… Rough around the edges, but at least it was hospitable to those needing a place to stay and some dependence in their life.
“Forgo the charming company of this fucking hovel??” He continued, now pointing directly to a small group of individuals in the corner playing cards. You recognize Carman right away (it’s hard to miss the loud 4-foot tall bird women, after all) but struggle to identify two of the trolls she’s playing cards with. In the sunlit corner, a Skink woman looks up sleepily at the rising commotion, then gently tucks her kid closer to herself.
“Hey. That’s uncalled for.” You snap back, trying to keep your voice down. You take a breath to brace yourself, then kneel down, one arm bracing itself against your knee, the other hand still offering the pearl. “Look. You said I had it easier because I ended up adopted-“ You keep going, cutting off whatever he was going to say “-Or because I wasn’t in ‘the system’ for as long, or whatever. So I’m giving you an out, Gwen… If you’re wrong I can undo it. And if you don’t believe in magic, what’s the harm of trying, hmm?”
He gives you one of his more nasty glares for that last statement, and you can’t help the tiniest of smirks. Gwen was a lot like your brother, at times. He still desperately wants to believe that Science and Logic were the only truths to reality, but here he sits in a new universe, talking with gods and “aliens” and subjecting himself to everyday magic like yours.
“Fine.” He snatches the pearl from your hand and the two of you stand, then he grumbles. “How am I supposed to work this bullshit…”
“You simply make a wish. There are no tricks to this one.” You made extra sure about that. Finding a Clean Wish spell was hard, but you think that trying to spend a day detailing the specifics of the wish so no loopholes or twisted language could occur would be a much greater hassle.
“So what, just… ‘I wish we had swapped places?’” Gwen waved the pearl in his hand gesture, not noticing the unearthly glint.
Alex had just enough time to think on how dreadfully cinematic that was, and have the faintest beginnings of regret before the world went white.
Christmas day, you arrive at Ghostie’s temple. You haven’t seen him in a while, and if he’s back you assume he’d be here. It was a good guess. Upon entering (and being noticed) you’re greeted with a shout to get out, and a box shoved towards you. The brown package is labeled with your name, so you scoop it up and tuck it into a pocket before looking around.
In the corner you notice Ghostie’s ‘friend’. The same one who he yells at over the internet and who was brought over a couple of times before. He’s glaring at Ghostie form his other corner and to you, that seems like the biggest issue right now. Ghostie has made it clear that he wants to be alone right now, and this person has made it clear that they aren’t the type to listen to those wants.
You grab the intruder by the arm, a bit roughly, and drag them through the corridors of the stone maze, giving them a pointed look and a “shh!” when they try to loudly protest. Luckily, they keep quiet with only an eye roll. When you’re far enough away, you release your prisoner and spin around to confront them. You both fold your arms and tilt your chins down at the other.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, that’s an incredibly vague fucking question, where to start!” The response is dripping with sarcasm, and you can tell that they’re about to list off dumb things like ‘standing, shivering, breathing’ and so on.
“I mean! What are you doing to Ghostie? What...” You pause and look away before continuing with careful words. “He’s upset. More so than usual. If you had anything to do with that...”
“I didn’t do a goddamned thing to that stupid stoner kid!! I brought him the fuck home and he started chewing me out for doing so! Because I left my ‘family’“ they used physical air quotes for that. “and now he’s all... I don’t even know! He’s been giving me just as rough a time, you know! Talk about an ungrateful fucking brat...”
You hum thoughtfully, and shuffle some pieces of information together in your head. If this “guest” has any problems with you going quiet, they don’t say as much. You take a breath and speak up again.
“Are you cold?”
“What kind of a fucking question is that? ‘Are you cold?’ I’m standing in a stone building with no heat sources, probably underground, in fucking winter. What the hell do you think?” Their crossed arms seem far less defensive now...
“Alright, I know of a place... It’s like this, and Ghostie knows where it’s at...” Does he? If he doesn’t, you’ll absolutely let him know later. “But it has fireplaces and free food, and you don’t have to... It’s a good place to be alone, if that’s what you need.”
Behind the large, round glasses, their eyes slowly creep down to the floor. Thinking...
