Batshit Mages - 2. Free From Evil

"Because, I'm leaving you." Mala's voice was so strangely calm and sensible, and her face looked so uncharacteristically patient and -

"What do you mean by you're leaving me?" Teague's frown held more than confusion. Mostly suspicion. He hadn't been aware of any particular bond they'd had, be it personal or otherwise. And now Mala was 'leaving him,' him specifically. Whatever did that mean?

"I mean, I'm leaving the tower and not taking you," she explained patiently, in a tone that was normally reserved for obstinate children. Teague's frown only deepened. Not taking him? Nevermind where, why and how she was going - why was it relevant that she didn't take him with her?

"... Again, why are you giving me your bad poetry collection? Leaving is not a satisfactory reason." He really was not keen on her stupid demonology and summoning books. Or anything else she owned.

Mala tilted her head and regarded him with a condescending, pitying half-smile.

"I thought you'd appreciate them. You need the practice," she said, "You're stagnating. At your level, the best you can do is summon an imp or two, and I know you're not satisfied with that."

Teague blinked at her, dumbly. He didn't want to summon anything better than an imp or two, and frankly not even that. But ever since his Baettmaen stunt down in the abbey cellar Mala seemed to believe he wanted to make a career out of summoning demons. Ah, but of course an egomaniac like her would believe that everyone wanted the same thing as her.

And as always, he did not argue. With Mala, sitting it out and just waiting for her to leave was always the least frustrating path you could take. Maybe that's why she seemed to think they had had some kind of... personal relationship. Because he was the only one who couldn't be bothered to oppose her, in her ideas, behaviour, actions... he really just didn't care enough. So he had been the only one who could stand living on the same floor with her and spending any time with her at all. Could it actually be... that Mala... had a concept of... companionship?

Teague stared at her. Did she actually think they were friends?

"Uh huh," he said intelligently.

"Will you miss me?" she asked insincerely, turning around and looking over her shoulder theatrically.

"No," said Teague. He was really just waiting for her to get lost.

Mala laughed artfully. With her trademark smirk and wink she slid out of his room, left the door open and marched down the stairs. Teague watched her go with an impassive face.

Could it be?

She would leave.

Calmly, Teague got up from his bed and went to close his door. Turning around, he stared at the books on his bed. Strictly and darkly, as if concentrating on something really hard. Or as if he were trying to explode them with his mind. Mala was leaving. Possibly, probably, forever. Hopefully.

His heart danced.

Teague grinned.

He was free! No more potentially fatal pranks, no more late night visitations, no more waking up lying bound and gagged in a summoning circle, no more strange noises from behind the wall, no more pointless experiments on unwilling participants... He would be able to sleep properly again. As in, just climb into bed at night, close his eyes, drift off, dream something, and then, after a few hours, open his eyes again, stretch and yawn a little and just get up – that kind of sleep. Not the kind that came from exhaustion from mana depletion, magic-and-tonic induced grogginess, a pressing sense of necessity and the brittle relief and belief that his private wards would hold.

All of a sudden, Teague not only felt impossibly light, exhilarated to the point of floating apart in bubbly foam, but also calm like an ancient grave, and tired and happy as if he had just survived something catastrophic. And maybe he had. Maybe he really had dodged the deadliest calamity waiting to happen that had ever touched this island.

He opened the nearest of his two windows, checked how windy it was, and then levitated all of Mala's books from his bed out into the cool autumn air. About two arms' lengths from the window, he encased them safely in a strong dampening shell and contemplated his options.

He chose a fairly simple progressive mass collapse.

The muffled rustling and sucking sound vanishing into a tiny dark purple dot finally gently plopping out of existence made him smile again. Simply burning the books would have been just as effective, but imploding and disintegrating them like this was much faster and cleaner. And more gratifying.

He leaned out of the window and took a hearty lungful of cold, gold autumn afternoon.

Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful peace.

This time, he only used one simple ward and the lock on his door.

The sleep was divine.

Until it was interrupted.

A hard, rhythmic rustling noise came through the wall. It sounded like scrubbing or brushing on the stonework. Carefully, sleepy-eyed Teague crept up to the wall behind his headboard and put an ear against it. He murmured an easy, half-assed spell on the wall and listened.

There were more noises. Rumbling, casual steps, the clattering of wood and metal, the rustling of fabric... and scrubbing. Teague released the ear-spell and climbed out of bed. He hadn't bothered to undress for his nap, so there were only his shoes to slip into before he could walk out. Which he did.

The door to Mala's room stood open. Only a little.

Very lightly, Teague pushed on the door. It swung open silently, slowly, and inconspicuously, just as he had intended.

"Uh," he said eloquently. He hadn't wanted to say anything. Not that he did say something, it was more of a dumb grunt, really, but damn. This room looked so different.

"Hello." The person sitting crosslegged in front of a stack of books on the floor turned their head and looked at Teague. Smiling openly. Teague noticed that suspiciously and kept staring around the room. There were brushes and rags cleaning the walls, ceiling and floor, and just now a bookshelf was done building itself and moved neatly into the space between wardrobe and dresser. The person put both hands on the books and they flew into the shelf.

"Are you in the other room?" The person stood up and nodded to the wall they shared. Teague nodded. The person smiled wider. It looked rather dazzling. In fact, the entire person looked really... good. Genderlessly handsome. "Sorry for the ruckus. I just... was told it would be smart to clean very thoroughly before moving in."

Teague nodded. He agreed. That was definitely smart.

The person kept looking at him curiously.

"Well. I'm Kjeld. Nice to meet you?"

Teague nodded. No, wait, that was wrong. He was supposed to introduce himself. It was difficult remembering things like that with that expectant smile directed at him. On that face. He cleared his throat.

"Teague Imlach. Pleased." Nine hells, how stupid did that sound?

Beautiful Kjeld just smiled again. This time he looked amused.