Adele sat across from him, squaring her shoulders, ready to listen.
— Well now, let's talk like adults, — Victor suddenly grew serious.
He rose from his chair, drew himself up to his full height, and, as if on the stage of a grand theater, spread his arms wide. There was something majestic and a bit daring in his posture. Taking a deep breath, he spoke loudly and solemnly, his voice echoing in the empty corners of the room:
— You're a witch, Adele!
He froze in that pose, expecting the walls to shake, or the girl to rush him with questions, or at least to look frightened. He expected sparks in the air, a storm of emotions, or at least the realization of a great truth in her eyes. But instead, a ringing, almost awkward silence filled the room.
Adele only tilted her head to the side, looking at him with the same cold composure.
Victor stood like that for another second, feeling his grandiose moment slowly deflate. He lowered his arms, sat back down, and shook his head in disappointment.
— Haaa... Tough crowd. Fine, just ask your questions.
— Who are you? — she repeated her question, looking him straight in the eyes.
Victor rolled his eyes toward the ceiling in mock agony.
— Again? No, listen, we won't get far this way. I'm telling you for the last time: my name is Victor, and I am a wizard.
— A wizard? — she echoed.
— Exactly. A wizard. "Abracadabra," wands, transformations — all that sort of thing.
— Do you worship the devil? — her voice remained level.
— Right, stop! — Victor held up a palm. — Let's forget about religion for a moment. I can see you're a smart girl. There is no devil, at least not here.
— Then who bestowed this power upon you? — Adele persisted.
— No one. I was born this way. It's in the blood, in the genes, if you like. I was born a wizard, just as you were.
— I am not like that, — she cut him off, a hint of steel in her voice.
— I have different information, — Victor smiled. — I know that a gift for magic lives inside you. And something else. — Leaning in, he looked directly into her eyes. — Something familiar, something kindred, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
— It is not a gift, — Adele gave a bitter smile. — It is God testing me. He is testing my faith through this temptation.
Victor leaned back into his chair, nearly howling with frustration.
— Again... I'm starting to regret even coming here... — he grumbled.
Exhausted, he simply snapped his fingers. In that same instant, the daylight in the room faded, and the shadows lengthened, turning the walls into the deep velvet of night. Adele pressed herself against her chair in fear.
A burst of golden sparks erupted from Victor's palm. They whirled around the room, transforming into ghostly glowing birds that flew just above the girl's head with a soft chime. The birds scattered into myriads of lights, from which strange neon flowers began to bloom right in the air: glowing lilies and roses pulsing with blue flame.
The ceiling vanished, turning into a map of the starry sky where constellations began to move, weaving into the shapes of great animals. A shimmering lion paced through the air, brushing Adele with a gentle warmth, and a small transparent fox made of pure light jumped onto her lap, leaving behind only a handful of shimmering dust before vanishing.
When the last light died out and normal sunlight returned to the room, Victor stood up.
— That is what you stand to lose; think hard on it. Meanwhile, I'll go downstairs and clean up the mess I made, — Victor coughed awkwardly and stepped out, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.
When Adele came downstairs, she found Victor placing her parents on the living room sofa and straightening their clothes.
— There, you see? — he turned to her, smiling. — I told you, they're just sleeping. More alive than ever.
Adele didn't answer. She stood on the bottom step, frowning and not taking her eyes off her father. Victor followed her gaze and spotted a massive crimson bruise emblazoned on the man's forehead.
— Oh... That... I think it was already there when I walked in. Yes, definitely! One hundred percent, it was already like that.
Adele looked at him, not believing a word.
— Are there many... like us?
— A great many, — Victor replied readily, glad for the change of subject. — But we live in secrecy, hiding from ordinary people. For the most part, wizards aren't much different from humans: they fall in love, get married, make other little wizards. Some ancient families are obsessed with blood purity and practice incest to keep their power from fading, and sometimes wizards are born into perfectly ordinary human families, like you.
— What is "incest"? — Adele tilted her head, confused.
Victor froze with his mouth open, realizing he had said too much.
— Er... forget it. Just some magical nonsense. So, what have you decided? Will you come with me?
— I want to, — she answered. — But my parents will never let me go. They won't understand.
— And what's your plan? — Victor folded his arms. — To rot in your room reading the Bible? How much longer will they keep you? A year? Five years? Your whole life?
Adele lowered her head sadly.
— But if I just run away... they won't survive it.
— Well, I have a couple of ideas, — Victor tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. — I could brainwash them a little. Convince them that your abilities are a gift from heaven, a blessing, not a curse.
— No, — Adele shook her head. — That goes against their worldview, what they believe in. I cannot do that to them.
— Well, the second option isn't any better, — Victor smiled. — I'll erase their memories of you. Completely. From the very moment you were born. To them, you will never have existed.
Adele froze. Fragments of the past flashed in her memory: her mother's warm hands, her father's laughter, the smell of Sunday pie... And then — the last year. The cold of the locked room and the muffled sobs of her mother, who stood watch outside her door every night, praying until dawn for the salvation of her soul. Over this year, she had seen her family slowly fade because of her.
— Perhaps it really would be for the best? — she whispered, barely audible.
— What? — Victor asked, busily trying to rub the crimson bruise off her father's forehead. — Damn, it's not coming off... It definitely was already there then!
— Don't touch him, — she frowned at Victor, then added firmly: — I agree. Erase their memory.
Victor stopped rubbing the man's forehead and looked at her in surprise.
— Hey, don't rush. I only mentioned the memory-wiping thing so you'd take the first option. Living without a family is not cool at all. Take my word for it, it sucks. Listen, Adele, I'm not going to strip them of their faith. I'll just... make a slight adjustment. A small correction to their view of the world.
— To you, it is a trifle, — Adele looked at him with a sad smile, — but not to them. This is what they have dedicated their entire lives to. Their truth and their path. Because of this, they might one day doubt God, and then they would cease to be the people I know.
Victor shook his head.
— I think they love you more than they love God.
— And that is exactly why I am so grateful to them, — a tear finally rolled down her cheek. — I want them to be happy again. Even if there is no place for me in that happiness.
Victor fell silent. He was already cursing the moment his tongue had slipped about the second option — he had thought she would get scared and agree to the "small adjustment," a convenient lie. Но он ошибся (But he was wrong). This little girl turned out to be stronger than he could have imagined.
He slowly pulled his wand from his inner pocket. He pointed it at the girl. He didn't intend to take on such responsibility and decided to simply wipe all their memories of tonight and leave quietly, keeping everything as it was.
But when he looked into Adele's eyes, he finally realized what had been bothering him about those eyes. Madness. He had seen that same look in his own eyes the first time he killed someone. A cold, calculating gaze, the look of a person who is ready for anything. The longer he looked at her, the more he saw himself on that night: washed in the blood of his oppressors, alone, abandoned by everyone.
His hand trembled. Back then, a decision had been made for him too, without even asking his opinion. And how did it end? Years of loneliness, the cold walls of an asylum, and a slow descent into his own madness. If someone had told him the truth back then, would he have chosen those sufferings? Obviously not. He shook his head and returned to reality. He understood her well. And he wasn't going to abandon her as he had once been abandoned. Yes, perhaps one day this girl would bitterly regret her choice. Perhaps in a few years, she would meet him and furiously blame him for destroying her life. And then he would only smirk and say: "It was your choice." And that would be honest. But if he deprived her of that right now, wouldn't he blame himself for taking away her choice?
Victor slowly lowered his wand, but didn't put it away. He looked at Adele with absolute seriousness.
— Think again, Adele. There will be no turning back. I will tear you out of their lives like a page from a book.
Adele looked at her sleeping parents one last time, memorizing every line of their faces, and then gave a resolute nod.