There are moments in life that seem inconsequential at the time. You pass them by like shadows cast over the pavement, never thinking twice. Then later, when the dust settles, when everything has crumbled around you, you look back and realize—that was it. That was the moment everything changed.
The moment for me was four years ago. I was standing in the undergraduate library on the second floor, checking out the philosophy section for the works of Leucippus. Then I saw her. She walked past me.
Our eyes met. I held my breath and Samael gasped.
In the days that came after, I confined myself in a cage of self-denial. My studies became a distraction from her haunting beauty. A mixture of the lessons from my uncle’s arcane artwork and my major in political science, became a life raft set to float on an ocean of my social anxiety whenever she was near me.
Gabriel reviewed my charcoal drawings while I observed the object of my incantation. Daisy Nixon sitting outside the campus cafeteria, in a quiet conspiracy with Leah Hamilton. The casual observer might’ve seen nothing unusual—two beautiful girls, a pair of lattes steaming in the cold autumn air, delicate hands plucking at cups of fruit and yogurt. But I wasn’t a casual observer. Not when it came to her.
I had the perfect vantage point from my room. A voyeur, maybe, but not the kind that leers. No, I was something else entirely—an architect, a conductor setting the tempo for a symphony that had only warmed up.
The curtain call happened and my play hadn’t been rehearsed.
Daisy shifted, rolling her shoulders as if brushing off a phantom chill. She turned, scanning the empty quad behind her. She felt something. Not a presence, not a stare—something deeper, something she couldn’t name.
The effect of my trick was beginning to worm inside her reality, distorting thought, and corrupting her mind.
I wasn’t ready and turned to Gabriel, while he stood at my easel, flipping through years of black smudges and sharp lines cut on layers of parchment.
“Your detail from these first attempts at capturing her light shows immaturity, but promise. Why’d you limit your growth to one subject?”
He flipped back to the drawing I had finished an hour earlier—Daisy and I, a romantic embrace, our faces inches apart, while two grinning men lurked in the background.
“She’s my muse,” I replied.
Gabriel's brow furrowed, as if he were piecing together a puzzle with missing parts. “Your muse,” he echoed, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “You used to gage on the prisoner’s mana flow when you blocked it from passing through you. A basic skill as simple as breathing and she’s responsible for this sudden triumph over your disability?”
I shrugged and returned my attention back out the window. Daisy's smile was so vibrant. “I don’t need to look beyond her for inspiration. She’s brought out something in me that no one else could.”
“Well, at least she’s not a hermit. You’ve managed to capture a half-dozen other lifelines with her inspiration. Hopefully her presence will force you to not hyperventilate.”
Gabriel flipped through the pictures again.
‘See, you’ve proven yourself to the Council of Four by listening to me, you’re welcome,’ Samael spoke with pride.
I observed Daisy wave to Philip, Leah’s boyfriend, strutting to their table. He had a strong lean physique, likely due to his diet of raw meat and vegetables. He carried his usual drink, a London Fog, along with his air of self-importance. He wore hundred-dollar t-shirts and designer jeans, further adding to his subtle display of superiority and arrogance.
“I came from an earlier meeting with that young man and his mother,” Gabriel announced, as he examined another subject in my drawing. “She was very animate about him moving into your room.”
“Philip J. Craig, requested to move in with me?” I asked, watching him sit tall as he took up space across from Daisy. I watched him snatch a berry from Leah’s yogurt and pop it in his mouth with a smug grin. “He lives off campus, in a house with a pool and a hot tub. Why would his mother want him to slum it in Schneider-Stern with me?”
“She’s the lunatic petitioning for her son to be your roommate,” Gabriel confirmed. I felt his sight look past me towards them. “Something about him learning humility prior to graduation. He moves in on Monday if you agree to the petition for room and board.”
I turned to Gabriel while he stepped back from the easel, admiring it like a Picasso. “Philip’s an arrogant dick. I’d rather room with a rattlesnake.”
“It’s by the will of the Council, suggested by your uncle. An exposure test for you to prove your control over the prisoner’s aether.” Gabriel stated as he removed a black box from the interior of his jacket. “However, it appears you may have had a hand in creating this urgent assignment.”
Samael was right. Gabriel had put together enough of the puzzle to understand my desire for Daisy and my willingness to alter time and space for her. Although, I didn’t calculate Philip J. Craig’s degrading personality as part of the reveal.
“Will you report my trick to the Veil?”
“The Veil of Death sent you away because of your inability to fold energy over the captive. You’ve proven yourself with this trick from your muse that you’ve overcome this disability. I’d advise you to accept this young man’s punishment to be your roommate. You must demonstrate mastery over the prisoner’s reach for a prolonged period of time in order to regain favor as the Veil’s successor.”
“How is she?”
“The sickness weakens her each day. News of your accomplishment will go a long way to lifting her spirits.”
My mother, the Veil of Death, held the source of Samael within her bones. His aether flowed along the ethereal pathways that connected her to me, my brother, and uncle Joseph MoonWater. Aether prevented from seeping through our skin was converted into mana that returned to the source, gathered in strength, and ignited as a trick. Mother held the source, the fallen angel, Samael captive and the prisoner demanded a price.
“I don’t know how I did it.”
“I suggest reviewing your latest grimoire.”
I glanced at the cover of Asylum, Issue 89, Connect the Dots. “How long does she have?”
“You worry about retracing your steps and I’ll carry the burden of the Veil’s fate for us both. You must prove your worth to the Council of Four, accept Philip J. Craig’s petition to be your roommate or risk annihilation along with the Veil.”
“Everyone who rooms with me either drops out, becomes a drug addict, or dies by suicide. Living on my own isn’t easy.”
“You’ve had ten roommates over your time at the boarding school and three at this university. All have fallen to some tragic end after a few weeks because you were not capable of blocking the prisoner’s aether.” Gabriel said, holding the box out for me to accept.
“What about Douglas Cho, he’s alive.” I said, accepting the box.
“The freshman roommate you had for three weeks at this fine institution for higher learning? I wouldn’t count him as a success. He resides on the sixth floor of a hospital for patients unhinged from reality.”
I liked Doug. He had a very dark sense of humor that made me laugh. I believed being in college along with my new meditation routine learned from issue 73, Asylum, The Deep Sleep, I could prove my skill was equal to that of my younger brother, Chadwick. Unlike me, he was born, like uncle Joseph, and my mother Yvonne with the ability to mask Samael’s power, control the pathway of his aether and convert it into mana for tricks. However, I was delayed mentally in knowing this natural ability.
“At least the nightmares stopped for him.” I shook the box, it sounded dull, dead. “What’s in here?”
“Your uncle has learned of something over the past few months and constructed this tool to aid you,” Gabriel replied, joining me by the window, as he gazed across the lawn upon my jewel. “You’re the eldest son. You have a strong claim to the Veil. Yet, the Council of Four is split, and your mother refuses to make a decision of succession on her own. With the latest issue, and this gift you will understand how your muse was able to unleash this trick.”
I opened the box, inside was an eraser. “You’re joking. He created a magic eraser?”
“You put this one in motion,” Gabriel continued, while he and I watched Daisy ask something, motioning vaguely with her spoon toward my window. “You’ve inserted yourself into their inner circle. You can understand it or not. My report to the Council brings us hope that Samael will be contained.”
I removed the eraser from the box. “If I’m not able to prevent Samael’s aether from invading the night, Philip will die.”
“That’s if you fail to demonstrate your new mastery. You’ve created your first trick. That says a lot about your ability. Take responsibility for your actions, Marcus. It’s what being an adult is all about. How do you wish to respond to Philip J. Craig’s petition?”
I watched as Philip told Daisy and Leah something. I had a feeling it was about me. They blinked, exchanged glances, and then—laughter. Not the cruel kind. No, this was something else. The nervous, uncertain laughter of girls who had only ever known me as that strange guy. The one who walked alone, who never quite belonged, who spoke in ways that didn’t match the modern cadence of their world.
Philip said something, most likely a joke at my expense, but I couldn’t tell if it was for show. He was performer, always planting the seeds for his next move. He checked his phone, then—casually, almost as an afterthought—glanced over at my window.
Our eyes met.
A flicker of light reflected off the glass, a trick of the dying sun, but Philip saw it. He saw me.
I stood still and didn’t look away.
Philip grinned, said something to Daisy and Leah, and then—just like that—the moment was gone. He turned back to them, and they got up from their table.
“Inform the residential administrator of my acceptance of Philip J. Craig’s transfer to my room for the fall quarter.”