“Teach me!” The words burst out before Migon could stop herself. “How to do… that!”
Seth raised his eyebrows appraisingly, glancing back at the headless, still-warm corpse behind him. He looked back at her and jabbed a thumb at the dead man. “That?” he asked, gaze travelling down her body as if trying to figure out a reason why.
Migon nodded, quite literally breathless from the run over, but also from anticipation, from excitement. Her family had a long line of magical history. Maybe, just maybe, it was the answer. The cure to her cursed destiny. But she didn’t dare to speak. No, what if she annoyed him, scared him off, made herself unworthy?
“For?” Seth pressed, an amused grin on his tilted face. “Love the enthusiasm n'all, n’ I wish I ran a charity, but a demon’s gotta make a living!”
Migon’s heart stuttered. “Well, what did he give you?”
“Ah, well, y'know. Just a human soul. Oh! N’ a nice necklace. He added that for good luck, I guess, but luck can’t stop karma!”
Migon already found herself admiring and envying him. How nice it must’ve been to have the charm of a gentleman and the aura of a commander of a thousand troops.
“I don’t have any use for my soul.”
Should she have done that? Most definitely not. But she knew it was the right answer when she saw Seth’s grin become condescending. Naturally, humans never spared their soul a moment’s thought in their greedy state, in their sight of the impossible. Their ignorance led them to believe that it was a gift, that their souls wouldn’t be missed for their greatest wish from a sunny man.
Seth’s ignorance lay in the fact that he believed that Migon was as stupid as his other clients.
But Seth’s voice remained pleasant, not a trace of a sneer in any of his reply. “Seems like a pretty small sum for such a long task! Can ya think of anything else?”
As he spoke, Migon felt his energy reach to her soul, scanning the wavelengths, the energy. And to her delight, he tensed in surprise.
“I’m dying, so you’ll have my soul soon.” Migon felt a calm as cool as a summer shower wash over her. “And I think my soul is stronger than a human’s.” With a solution so close, she felt like her confidence could almost match Seth himself’s.
Seth let out a slow whistle. “Wanna get in a few lessons before old man death comes for ya? Jeez.” Studying her, Seth shook his head and almost seemed lost for words. But Migon saw the twitch of his lips as he fought a smile.
“Jeez,” he repeated. He snapped his fingers and the man’s body disappeared, leaving only his masked head. “You’re a weird one!”
Migon’s earnest frown broke into a smile. “Thanks! So–”
Seth raised a hand to stop her. “I like ya, kid. For that, I’ll let you think on it. Sure ya don’t want your soul?”
“Oh,” Migon said easily, “I’ll be ready to die if I can leave with a bang.”
Seth laughed. He extended a hand. “Just to clarify, the deal’s that I teach ya some magic, n’ your soul’s set to expire in… I dunno, a year? How’s about it? I cram in the lessons in exchange for your soul when ya die?”
“When I die of my illness,” Migon promised. She took his hand, shook it, and nearly recoiled. His hand was white-hot, digging into her palm, lava coursing through her veins and curling to nestle against her arm.
Seth hadn’t stopped to pay attention to her wording, to think what might happen if she cured her illness. After all, how could she? In his eyes, they’d only have time for basic magic. He’d probably stray from the more complicated healing magic. And illnesses took years to master curing, while hers was apparently terminal. No magic could stop fate.
But with acceptance of your fate, came the most opportunities. The opportunities for the impossible.
And what good was magic if it couldn’t do the impossible?