Becoming a void mage is hard.
It's not the magic which is difficult. It's the pressures your mind is exposed to which causes significant challenge and, sometimes, damage.
It helped that I was still a child when I first heard the Old Twit's bubbling voices in my head. He has so many mouths and not all of them want to be quiet while another speaks.
That's normally the first point where a person's sanity is tested. And not many come out of that intact.
The true test, however, is entering the void itself and seeing HIM in his domain.
There aren't enough words to describe what he looks like. Not in our language.
I could list words like horrible, awful, terrifying, disgusting, foul, nauseating, enormous, monstrous, horrific and so on forever, but they wouldn't really give you even a smidge of understanding as to his appearance.
It's one of those things you have to see to believe.
Unfortunately, that also seems to drive most people quite mad.
I have asked myself many times what made me different. Was it truly that I was just a child, battered and tortured to the point of being insane already?
There's no answer.
My mind, I think, was just different.
Listening to the girls debate over the quality and relative quantity of my weirdness, I understood Violet's concerns. I was indeed a little broken. It was an occupational hazard.
However, I wasn't broken enough to be deliberately rude.
Especially not to guests as charming as they were. Stoutly defended by Poppy and Clover, I found the strength to pull myself out of my reverie by using the same method I used every time I emerged from the void.
Basically, I down the last of my drink and held my arm up firmly for another.
"Lilsa!" I croaked out.
But she was already there, plucking the glass from my weak grip and gently replacing it with another.
"Here you are, Taran." She smiled at me. "I had a feeling you'd want another by now."
My eyes stopped rolling in their sockets, focusing intently on the wide mysterious chasm between her breasts. "You're an angel, too," I told her.
She slapped my chest with a playful laugh and sauntered away. I dragged my gaze back to my guests, who were all more concerned with their pies, I noted.
"I told you," I told them, slurping down half my drink and waving expansively at the table. "They're the best pies in the whole world. But don't tell Mudge. He gets very territorial."
Poppy looked up, a mouthful of pie muffling her words. "Who's Mudge?"
"My cook," I said. "You'll meet him soon enough."
"We didn't say we'd go with you," Violet squeaked. I felt a brief giddy rush at the delightful tone, but roughly suppressed my giggles. "In fact, I'm really sure we won't."
"Why not?" I frowned, not understanding. "Do you like being kicked out of wretched little squats? Do you enjoy fitful nights spent worrying about mooks doing mookly things to you in seedy little alleys soaked in trash? No. No, you can't. It's utterly impossible for you to enjoy the unwanted attention of mooks. Look at you. You deserve a mansion. No, a palace! Unfortunately, I don't have one. I have a tower. It's a bit drafty, but it will do for now until you get a palace of your own."
"But-"
"We'd be delighted, Mister Taran," Clover cut in. "Wouldn't we, Poppy?"
"Oh, yes!" She squinted at Clover. "Are you sure? I mean, we're also-"
"Very delighted!" Clover shouted over her. Then glared at Violet. "I don't want to sleep beside garbage again. I don't like rats, okay? I'm telling you, one of them nibbled on my boot the other night. And those horrible men, Violet! What are you thinking? Mister Taran here has offered to let us stay where we're not going to be harassed by, what was it? Mooks?"
"Mooks," I nodded, giving the room a suspicious sweep of my eyes. "They're everywhere around here. Like cockroaches. The only reason I don't do something about them is Lilsa needs the business. At least, that's what she told me."
Violet sighed. I could tell she wanted to argue about it a bit more but she, like her sisters, was tired. I picked up my fork and tapped the crisp crust of my pie.
"You are right, Violet," I said, digging in. "I AM weird. But I am a void mage. It sort of comes with the territory. But, despite what you might think, I am also a gentleman. I will not allow you ladies to come to any harm. I meant what I said. You may stay with me. And then, tomorrow, I shall visit the Guild and have a firm chat with the Head to remind him of his duties to first year students. I thought things had changed since my time. It's sad to see them lapsing."
Poppy's eyes widened. "You went to the Mage Guild?"
"I did," I told her. "I am a mage, too, you know. Just a bit different to normal ones. I was also made to feel unwelcome."
"What did you do?"
"I left," I said with a shrug. "I didn't need them anyway. Their library is pitiful."
"Pitiful?" Violet let out a strangled gasp. "But it's the biggest library in the world!"
I snorted. "No, it isn't." I chewed on a delightful chunk of beef before swallowing. "That's just what they write on the pamphlets."
"But we've been inside!" Violet insisted. "We've seen it! And it's huge! Isn't it, Clover?"
Clover nodded. "It seemed impressive to me."
"And me," Poppy squeaked.
"That's the point," I said, looking around to see if Lilsa was coming back with another drink. My head was feeling a little foggy, but it was a pleasant foggy. "It's all about appearances with them. Their lower levels are all trash. Most of it is outdated, and the rest is fiction. Romantic twaddle, the lot of it."
"I like romance," Poppy sighed.
"There's a time and a place for it," I allowed. "And that place is not in a proper mage library. They don't even have a copy of Thein's Equilibrium of the Manifested Five Powers. Or Merk's Thaumaturgical Aspects of Universal Systemic Arrays. As far as I'm concerned, you can't call yourself a library without them at least. Honestly. Complete trash. I've thrown out more genuine volumes of magical literature than they keep in their petty little Forbidden Section."
Clover glanced up. "You've seen the Forbidden Section?"
"I've been in there," I sneered, jabbing my pie. "It's why they decided I should leave in the first place."
"What's in there?" she asked in hushed tone.
"Junk," I told her firmly. "Nothing but junk. Did you know, they keep a copy of Jirel's Spells for the Kitchen in there? And Gerarf's Compendium of Firestarting Techniques? It's a joke, I tell you. You might think they have books on necromancy, or demonology, but they don't. Oh, they have the Collected Infernal Sigils by Cooker, but that'd barely raise a low grade imp! And even then, only by accident."
I paused to stuff another large helping of pie between my cheeks while Lilsa ghosted past, swiping my empty glass and dropping down another. I didn't get the chance to thank her between chews. It's not polite to talk with your mouth full, even to be polite.
Violet was looking at me like she didn't believe a word I was saying, but Clover looked a little dejected. I reached out and patted her hand comfortingly. "Don't worry," I said. "I've got a whole section on Demonic Seals if you're interested in that. I don't know why a lady would be, but it's there."
Her eyes glittered. "You do?"
"I even have Kakoby's Succubus Training Methods," I grinned. "I had no use for it, of course. Void magic is a whole different school. But if anything belongs in a forbidden section, it's pretty much everything by Kakoby. He was an absolute cad."
"Mister Taran?" Poppy gave me a hopeful look. "Do you have any books about curses?"
"Curses?" I frowned. "Why would you want to know about curses? It's not polite to curse someone, you know. Once you curse them, it's very difficult to undo."
"We don't want to know anything about curses," Clover hissed, shooting her younger sister a sharp look. "Poppy was just being silly. Weren't you, Poppy?"
"I was?" She glanced at Violet first, then shrugged and sighed. "If you say so."
I pursed my lips, another piece of pie on my fork.
The three sisters each looked as sad as each other. I didn't like it. Such beauty didn't deserve to be sad. They deserved to be smiling so brightly that my glass shattered in their presence.
Something was clearly amiss.
And, judging by the direction the conversation had taken, I thought I knew what.
"Alright," I said, feeling my voice turn cold with rage. "Which one of you is cursed? And who did it to you, and where do they live?"
***
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