On the Origin of Magics

Chapter 3 - Requiem

"Hi!"

She flinched. How the hell had he snuck up on her like that? She was sure he'd done it on purpose. No matter how immersed in her work she became she'd never fail to hear steps outside the door not to mention the door itself opening. But there he stood on the other side of her desk smirking like always. How could he be so unmistakable one moment and completely inconspicuous the next? It didn't make any sense. Then again, nothing about him did.

"Hi." She said, making sure he'd notice just how much she hadn't enjoyed his prank. His smile just widened. She was relieved to see he had returned somewhat to his usual carefree self during the night.

"I thought I'd go play down at The Brawl and figured maybe you'd want to join me?" His request was sudden but she replied almost instantly.

"Sure!" Her face was beaming. She didn't care if she seemed too happy. She'd missed him. And she hadn't been down to The Brawl in some time anyway. There hadn't seemed to be any point without him there.

"Good! Wanna go right now or do you have to get ready?"

"I need a few minutes, but just wait here, it won't be that long." She said, knowing full well it would take more than 'a few minutes'.

"As you wish, milady." He said courteously, giving a small bow. She couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but walked into the backroom without another word.


Half an hour later she appeared again, dressed in a trendy black dress. The clothes were brand new, and she was sure these would ensnare any man who looked at her. At least that was what she had been telling herself in front of the mirror. She felt more secure in her choice as his pupils dilated at the sight of her. A detail her work had taught her to look for.

"Let's go, shall we?" She said before he could find a way to ruin it for her. She'd noticed that men had a habit of doing just that.

"By all means." He still had his courteous demeanor, but the moment's hesitation before he uttered the words revealed the effect she'd had on him. Contented, she walked away at his side. That he, in his black black shirt and white tie, matched her outfit so splendidly further improved her mood.


'The Brawl' was a small bar right next to the building where they spent most of their time. Having started out as a place where anyone could come up on stage and perform whatever they wished, it had become quite the popular place and was frequented by talent scouts looking for new talent.


She sat down at their usual table and watched as her mystery man talked to Bill the Bartender. Bill, whose title according to himself had 'been around since long before he actually got into bartending', seemed overjoyed to see his acquaintance back in town. They seemed to trade no more than a few sentences before Bill gave a shout to let his friend up on stage. He was something of a local legend and time was always made for his performances. She studied him as he picked out an instrument. Eventually he settled for the piano. He sat down and almost as soon as he began playing the club went silent. The music was magical. The melodies seemed to pour out as his fingers danced across the keys. Every single note seemed to envelop the entire room and pierce the heart of every being in it. Even before he'd begun singing tears were running down her cheeks. The quiet sobs around the room told her she wasn't the only one. Then came his voice and everything stopped. Nothing existed but the music. Nothing mattered but his voice. And she could feel his pain.

The lyrics said nothing, and Theresa wondered what he could have lost to feel such agony. His lament left no one untouched, and by the end of the performance the hall was in mourning of unknown but not unsung heroes.