TADM 02 False Mage

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __I__ [continue] I have been mistaken for a student of dark magic by people who don’t know better. The honest truth is I stumble into the subject occasionally, coming across it in a professional capacity as a paranormal investigator. A student pursues mastery of knowledge and technique. If I were more courageous, I would pursue the students before they could obtain mastery. But in most cases I end up cleaning the messes or putting up the equivalent of a Caution: Slippery When Wet sign. In almost every subject, a student requires a teacher. But there are a special few among us who are self-learners. Autodidact is the more sophisticated name for them. Benjamin Franklin, Charles Darwin, and Frank Lloyd Wright are a few of the more famous ones. Dark magic is a dangerous force. Students of the advanced forms don’t learn how to cast a spell. Instead they learn how to protect themselves from the consequences of casting one. “Protect” is the preferred term for those who practice this variety of magic. The only real protection is to transfer the cost of a spell to another individual. These “protective measures” are what distinguishes advanced dark magic spells from simple ones, which offer no effort to protect the caster from any side effects. The individual accepts the entire cost of the spell on their own in exchange for the benefits offered. The bargain struck between magic user and magical source never results in a fair trade for the mortal creature. [[Back |tadm02]] [[Next |tadm02.01.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- I have taken it upon myself to tell the truth about dark magic. At least, the truth about simple spells that anyone can conjure. Knowledge is a powerful cat to let out of the proverbial bag, and it goes against centuries of tradition. I consider it my job to inform people of dark magic’s existence, availability, and dangers. One I fulfill by sharing cautionary tales taken from my cases to enlighten the uninformed. So, here are the truths you need to know. First, magic exists in several forms, and anyone can cast a spell using dark magic. You just have to want something strongly enough to accept an extreme personal cost. Which brings us right into the second thing you should know. Anyone using dark magic incurs an unknowable cost at the time the spell is cast. The form and timing of payments is always determined at a later date. Third, there are some other minor requirements to make a spell work. No special skill or knowledge is necessary. To safeguard against readers from performing a spell, I have omitted details on how a spell is all put together. The people I know who have gotten caught up in dark magic have told me the last steps of a spell are intuitive, and they were surprised they didn’t figure it out on their own. It’s like looking for the glasses that you’re already wearing. Or finding the house keys in your pocket after turning your home upside down looking for them. Which brings me to my point. There are certain people who are capable of figuring all three things on their own. To the best of my knowledge, I have never met one. However, on one occasion I was hired by the family of someone who did. To aid me in the investigation, her husband made some of her personal possessions available to me. Including several years’ worth of personal journals. They paint a detailed portrait of her life but hold very little information about how she obtained her more arcane knowledge. [[Back |tadm02.01.01]] [[Next |tadm02.01.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Copying the journals verbatim feels wrong, so I’ve adapted them into a more palatable format. Just like I do with my other case files I share publicly. There may be some omissions or embellishments. I first paged through the journals in the solitude of her apartment, with the permission of both the property manager and her husband (whom the property manager was surprised to learn about). My first impression was that she wrote as if she were trying to get perfect marks in a penmanship course. Her letters were well crafted and her words well thought out. At the beginning, the entries flowed and never stumbled. Toward the end, it was as if someone else entirely was writing them. Mage was a woman torn between the family she chose and the family she made. In order to understand the predicament, I walked backward through the entries. Her life hadn’t always been split, and it hadn’t always been out of balance. Her first life was her career for Dynamic Marketing Solutions Inc., which she began as an unattached college intern and carried forward into a successful career after graduation. Her second life came later with her husband, Henry, and their children. Mage was a person of extreme talent and immense inner turmoil, who used the former to overcome the latter. A tireless leader, she would go to lengths that surprised even her in order to solve her problems. As before, I have taken the liberty of changing names for everyone’s protection. Although, there is one individual who never volunteered his name at all. [[Back |tadm02.01.02]] [[Next |tadm02.02.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __II__ [continue] The first time Mage entered a gun and ammo store, she was in her twenties and dressed for a funeral. Her friend Tommy, on the other hand, was nearing forty and looked like he was going golfing after their shopping excursion. The bell above the door hadn’t stopped ringing before an old man cleared his throat to announce his presence. He stood behind the counter in a camouflage outfit at the far end of the store. He knew they were there, and now they knew he was there too. He didn’t greet them, and Mage suspected this was the treatment he gave strangers. What other businesses might refer to as “new customers.” The place had the charm of a small town hardware store, and Mage expected to smell sawdust, but instead found the pine-scented cleaner used to mop the floor. She pretended as if she knew what she was looking for down the aisles of white plastic shelving concealing the particle board interior. She was just taking in the experience. Anything to keep her from thinking about the past few weeks. Tommy would go from following her around and pointing at things to going off in another direction. When he wasn’t looking, Mage reached for a sweater that she should have been wearing. Tommy said it would be cold, but she was determined not to be bothered by the weather. It was spring. It should be warm enough to go without long sleeves. [[Back |tadm02.01.03]] [[Next |tadm02.02.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The old man cleared his throat again, followed by, “Can I help you?” She could only imagine how out of place they looked, but took comfort that they didn’t look menacing. Tommy stepped forward. “We’re interested in learning more about… what we can do about… self-protection.” The old man didn’t say anything more until the two of them reached the counter. “What’s the story with the two of you?” “What do you mean?” Tommy replied. “Most people who walk into a gun and ammo store aren’t dressed for a funeral.” Tommy shook his head for the store owner to cut it out. The clear meaning was that someone had, in fact, died. “Sorry.” The owner added, “Here to blow off some steam?” “Sure,” Mage replied and then walked toward a glass display to examine its contents. “My condolences. Was it a relative?” Tommy deflated. He warned her people might say something or ask questions. Now the old man in the camo behind the counter was doing exactly that. “Sister,” she said, not turning her head from the display. “Damn. What time’s the service?” Mage returned to Tommy’s side before saying, “Started ten minutes ago.” [[Back |tadm02.02.01]] [[Next |tadm02.02.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Old Man Camo chewed on his tongue for a bit. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just say it how it’s going to come out. Like how it is in my head, ya see?” “No, but I guess we’ll find out.” “There’s a waiting period for buying a firearm in this state.” Mage didn’t understand the significance. Her friend Tommy spoke up. “Look. My friend had a rough couple of weeks. The thing with her half sister is complicated, but we’re here because her apartment was broken into and we’re considering lessons in personal protection.” “The both of you?” “Yes.” Mage added, “Your store offered a free initial demonstration followed by a more thorough safety course.” The barrel-chested man gave them the stink eye. He was at an age where he should have been retired, if by the stench of his breath alone. “Um, I’m fine with the waiting period. I’m not going to shoot up the funeral if that’s what you’re thinking.” “Well, that was my first concern, but… look, I don’t know what you two have gotten yourselves into…” [[Back |tadm02.02.02]] [[Next |tadm02.02.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “What?” “You think you’re the first adulterers to come in here?” “Barf,” said Mage. Tommy, equally outraged, said, “But I’m married!” as if that mattered. That is, after all, a requirement for an extramarital affair. “Well, that is clear. You’re the older one with the wedding ring. I’m not judging you.” “He’s a work friend.” “Yes you are because there is nothing between us.” “Why didn’t your wife come along, then?” “Please, it’s Sunday,” Tommy said, but Old Man Camo didn’t get it. Mage added, “She’s coaching their son’s soccer game.” “Look, here’s a picture of all of us together.” Tommy handed him a phone displaying an image of himself, his wife, their son, and Mage underneath a party banner reading Happy Birthday Auntie Mage. “Who are all these other people in the photograph?” “More friends from work,” said Mage. “We’re kinda like family,” Tommy added. “They kinda are my family,” Mage corrected. [[Back |tadm02.02.03]] [[Next |tadm02.02.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Another glance down at the image. Studying it as if he were trying to spot a fake ID at a campus bar. “You Mage?” Mage nodded. He nervously shifted his eyes between the two of them before finally landing back on Tommy. “She’s your sister?” “Oh dear lord!” Mage said. But Old Man Camo gave a genuine chuckle. “Sorry, thought you could use a good laugh.” Mage and Tommy smiled, but only Old Man Camo was laughing at the conclusion of the bizarre interrogation. After an overview, they walked out back to the firing range. Old Man Camo transported all the dangerous equipment, while Mage and Tommy were stuck carrying a stack of paper targets and noise-reducing headsets. Mage had refused the offer from Camo to lend her a jacket. The sky was cloudy and stubborn, denying the leaves and blossoms the light needed to wake up from their winter slumber. [[Back |tadm02.02.04]] [[Next |tadm02.02.06]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The two of them also had the responsibility of attaching the targets to the lines in front of the weathered backstop. Tommy, nervous as always, kept his eyes on their instructor, who kept his hands safely behind his back and away from the weapons that were lying on a folding table. When they were all set and safely off the range, the instructor repeated the safety information he went over with them inside verbatim. Tommy listened as if he were hearing it for the first time, and Mage concentrated on not rolling her eyes. The range was wide, and Old Man Camo spaced the two of them unnecessarily far apart, in Mage’s opinion. He stood behind them, although much closer to her than to Tommy. Despite her drive to get started, Mage took her time getting ready. She didn’t want to lose her focus, with such a dangerous instrument. Before she finished, she had repeated the instructor’s directions in her head a third time, which earned him some gratitude points from her that she planned to keep to herself. She aimed the weapon and stared down the target, but all she could think about was the one person who had consumed her all week. Her father. Bang. How he abandoned her and her mother when she was in kindergarten. Bang. How when her mother died last year, she couldn’t find him. Bang. How her only family up until six months ago she had met at work. [[Back |tadm02.02.05]] [[Next |tadm02.02.07]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Bang. All the holidays she spent at their houses. Bang. How, out of the blue, she receives a letter from her father about Olivia, the half sister she never knew existed, who was now terminally ill. Bang. And wanted to meet. Clink. How he’d been part of Olivia’s life but not hers. Clink. Mage? How he said it would mean the world to Olivia’s children. Clink. MAGE! She removed the noise-reducing headset. Old Man Camo patted her back with one hand and gently and expertly lifted the firearm out of her grip while she collapsed into his shoulder. He smelled like tobacco and campfire smoke. She had no memory of her father’s scent. The tears came, and the sobbing started. [[Back |tadm02.02.06]] [[Next |tadm02.02.08]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “Oh, Mage.” Tommy was late to the party, having been occupied with his own target. She tried speaking through the sobs. None of it was comprehensible, no matter how she powered through the grief. After the episode at the gun and ammo store, the darkness of her thoughts grew in her journal. But it didn’t last. It was not a quick reversal, but Tommy and the rest of her chosen family nurtured her at the pace she needed. Nothing was rushed, and they never suggested that she needed to return to her normal self. Although, that is pretty much what happened. The years that followed were happy ones, and happiness is a natural repellent to dark magic. Still, she had gone to the trouble of taping her sister’s obituary to the inside cover of her journal. I imagine this caused her to see it more frequently than if she had taped it to a page. The quick version of the obit read: Olivia Shue had married in her early twenties and, after having their first child, never returned to work. The rest of the text described her commitment to her home life. The closing lines said she was survived by a husband, three children (Terry, Joe, and Melissa), “loving parents,” and “her sister, Mage.” [[Back |tadm02.02.07]] [[Next |tadm02.03.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __III__ [continue] Mage’s breakdown at the gun shop was a low point from which she steadily rose above over several years. She moved on with her life before her next descent. Metaphorically speaking, she walked into this new low point at a slow and steady pace. Tracing the origin of her path is not a precise science, but I’ll start from the Saturday morning when she told her husband, Henry, that two children were enough. The morning autumn sunlight illuminated the den of their home. Henry talked on the cordless phone, pacing between the wall that had a designer love seat and the wall that was essentially one giant bookcase. As a book lover I was envious of the shelf space, but also frustrated that it was wasted on books that were never read. Each one being picked by an interior designer to help boost their chances of getting their six-thousand-square-foot suburban home featured in a national magazine. Mage entered the room and, before anything else, noticed that the overhead lights were on. Henry always turned on the lights of any room he entered, no matter the time of day, and always forgot to turn them off when he left. The den in particular was a room that would have the light on throughout the entire night, despite every one of them being asleep. She hated this habit, and his constant assurances that he was working on it did not provide the relief they had when they were first married. Henry continued his pacing, despite acknowledging her presence with an irritated glance. Mage figured he must be talking to a client and not someone at the office. He was usually good at ending a conversation when it wasn’t a client. [[Back |tadm02.02.08]] [[Next |tadm02.03.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- He preferred talking on the cordless phone, which, like the lights, he maintained an irreversible habit. He always forgot to take care of it when he was done with it. He had lobbied for the charger to be in the den, but the interior designer said it went better in the kitchen. She waved for his attention, and he held up a finger while he performed the intricate ritual of ending a call with someone who holds your career in its balance. “What’s up?” he asked. “I’ll tell you in a minute. After you put the phone back on the charger.” He rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. As he stepped into the hallway, she added, “And turn off the lights when you leave the room.” He returned and slouched on the love seat. A contrast to how upright he had stood when pacing a few moments ago. He looked her in the eyes with a face that said he would not be listening and then repeated his original question. “What’s up?” Mage crossed her arms and exhaled. Many things were “up,” most of which had to do about their latest renovation plans, but they’d have time to talk about them later. Instead, she remained focused on the immediate task. “I need to go into the office.” “Today?” He leaned forward in his seat, but still wasn’t sitting straight. “Yes, today.” “But it’s Saturday. What about taking the kids to the pumpkin patch?” “You’ll be fine with John and Julie.” [[Back |tadm02.03.01]] [[Next |tadm02.03.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “I know I’ll be fine.” There was a noticeable bite in his response. “I was fine at their dance recital, I was fine at the tee ball games, the soccer games, the swim lessons, the—” “Henry, you don’t understand.” She unfolded her arms quickly, revealing a pair of fists that she holstered at her side. Henry was unafraid and stood up in a smooth, controlled motion. “Exactly, I don’t. You don’t need to work.” “Yes, I do.” She turned her back to him. The decision was made. She was going into the office, and he would take the kids to the pumpkin patch. “I make enough for us. Just quit your job.” She had almost left the room, but turned around and said, “We’ve been over this before, it’s not about money.” “Then, what’s it about?” His hands were open, and his palms were up, as if he were going to catch and cradle her response. He was vulnerable. Somewhere in the back of her head, she crushed the tiny whisper of her father. This wasn’t going to be an attack. She would explain. “These people are like family to me.” A little hurt entered Henry’s voice. “But we’re your actual family.” “I know that, but the other family needs me a little more right now.” Henry stared her down before confronting her. “You keep doing this, how are we going to have another child?” [[Back |tadm02.03.02]] [[Next |tadm02.03.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- This was what she had been hoping to avoid, but now it was teetering to unavoidable. “You’re making this into something it’s not.” “Dammit, Mage, we said… No, we agreed…. we were going to have three children.” “But that was before we had any kids. One more is just going to be too hard.” He turned his back to her in disgust. “How would you know? I’m the only one who spends time with them.” Mage stepped back into the room. “I’m trying to find a way to get more time.” She wasn’t exaggerating or saying it just to calm him down. She had exhausted all logical solutions, because all of them meant having to choose one family over the other. But she hadn’t stopped looking. Henry raised his voice, but didn’t yell. “Quitting. Quitting is how you get more time.” She matched his volume, and a note of distress crept into her voice. “Well, I might not have to. They may do it for me?” Henry soaked in her response. The tone. The words. He took a breath, allowing both him and Mage to get a handle on the situation. He asked, “What are you talking about?” “The company’s looking for a buyer. If the acquiring company is bigger and in a better financial position, we could all lose our jobs.” “How much time do you think you’ll have?” “I think if we can show something significant in the next twelve months—” “Twelve months?! Why is this your problem? We’ll be fine.” He was imagining twelve more months of her breaking promises to him and the kids. [[Back |tadm02.03.03]] [[Next |tadm02.03.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “Because I’m not the one with everything riding on it. Everyone else, Mary, Tommy, Dawn. They all need their jobs. Hell, Tommy’s got kids in college now. If he loses his job, they’ll probably have to drop out.” She held back from saying that she couldn’t let that happen, because it didn’t need to be said. Henry returned to the love seat. “That can’t be right? I thought Tommy’s kids were in middle school.” “The oldest was when we were married.” “Damn, time went fast.” “So, I need to help them. They didn’t abandon me when I needed them, and I won’t abandon them when they need me.” “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” The truth was that it was confidential, and not even her friends knew. She had won this argument, and now she could gain a little extra ground in one of the longer-standing disagreements she had with him. She said, “I shouldn’t need to tell you. You should just understand that when I tell you I need to go into work that I actually need to go into work. Just like you should know to turn off the lights when you leave a room and put the phone back on the charger when you’re done using it.” “Fine, I’ll work on it. What size pumpkin do you want us to pick out for you?” “One that will look good in the window and can be seen from the road.” [[Back |tadm02.03.04]] [[Next |tadm02.04.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __IV__ [continue] A merger between Dynamic Marketing Solutions and Elite Clientele was announced in the spring of the following year. Elite Clientele would be the surviving entity, and the whole arrangement would be completed in the first quarter of next year. Being a paranormal investigator provides me no insight into corporate drama. At first, I thought Mage was being dramatic by stating they could all lose their jobs. At the time of the announcement, she had gotten used to the idea, but it was all news to her friends, some of whom started to panic. To help calm them down, she began researching the topic, which backfired spectacularly. She had hoped that Elite Clientele had a reputation of keeping employees, but instead learned that they usually laid off employees around the six-month mark after the acquisition was completed. All the fears she had harbored for her friends returned. They needed their jobs to support their families. Every lost job would be a devastated home. Younger children would miss out on their activities, and older children might not be able to afford college. Unless someone could protect them. And she saw no one more fit for the task than herself. Her efforts came at a predictable personal cost. More focus on work meant less focus at home. She missed important events with her children. Dance recitals, soccer tournaments, Easter egg hunts. She missed the smaller things too, like going out for ice cream or an evening of family bowling. Or my personal favorite: missing the trip to the haunted house during Halloween. [[Back |tadm02.03.05]] [[Next |tadm02.04.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Henry was not silent about Mage’s increased time commitment to work and made her aware of what she was missing. He complained about having to pick up all her slack at home. Each argument left her feeling a toxic mixture of anger and guilt. So, she found herself searching for a way to succeed in both worlds. The details of her search were not described in her journals, only that she was coming up consistently short. Every avenue researched led to another dead end. In her own words, her devotion to her two lives made her feel like less than half a person. Her entries became shorter and less personal, more factual and fragmented. The sense of self she had captured was evaporating more with each entry. But still she didn’t give up. She continued her search for a solution. A way to be in two places at once. She didn’t write about her exhaustion, but it was evident, as her writing became less fluid and her spelling filled with errors. The flowing penmanship turned into an artless maze of agitation from an uneven hand. Not even when she went through her emotional trials at the loss of her mother or the ordeal her father thrust upon her was her hand so unsteady. I had the benefit of hearing Henry’s account before I started reading Mage’s journals. So, I kept a sharp eye for any subtle clue for when her search turned to the arcane fields I am more familiar with. There were some suspicious entries that started mentioning outside-of-the-box thinking. One option was so outside, she had written: “It could be considered outside of this world.” She did not explore this one with the same energy applied to the more conventional options. Something made her hesitate. Possibly fear or feasibility. But it never left her mind completely, continuing to reference the “otherworldly” option. Unlike all the other options, this one she did not mention to Henry. At least not until it was too late. [[Back |tadm02.04.01]] [[Next |tadm02.04.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- With fewer details in each entry, I can’t say for sure what made her so desperate that the powers of dark magic became available. I can only surmise from the dates in December that the added stress from the holidays pushed her over the edge. Maybe it was pressure from the in-laws or from the frantic corners of her own imagination. Nothing suggests it couldn’t have been both. It happened on Christmas Eve of all nights. Her entry was brief as they all had been for a while, but this time the flowing penmanship showed signs of returning. Hope had crept back into her writing. She acknowledged the otherworldly solution had presented itself, and she no longer had any reason to doubt it. She was proud of her accomplishment, writing boldly that she had figured it out all on her own. Without help from anyone. There was no entry on Christmas Day. However, the day after Christmas had one of the shorter ones: “Went to the office and left the family with their new sitter for the first time. From the sound of it, no one suspects a thing.” Over the next several weeks, the sitter was mentioned constantly in her entries, while never disclosing their identity. An entry in February was the first time she began to write more openly about her deeds. Specifically: “No one suspects the sitter isn’t me.” Mage needed to be in two places at once, and to accomplish this, she used the powers of dark magic to create a copy of herself. “The sitter.” [[Back |tadm02.04.02]] [[Next |tadm02.04.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Or, as I call it, a Gwenhwyfach. It’s an obscure term from Arthurian legend, meaning Guinevere the False, who was Lady Guinevere’s evil half sister. Born on the same day, but to different mothers who gave them the same name. As adults, they looked so alike, Arthur couldn’t tell them apart, which led to the real Guinevere’s imprisonment while Guinevere the False impersonated the queen. The story is more complicated, but the point is I call doppelgangers Gwenhwyfachs. Whether their origins are magical or natural. As I said before, I knew what she had done from the husband’s account. But having learned her state of mind by reading her journal, I found her ability to paint over the unnatural thing she had done disturbing. A terrible bargain had been struck, and there was no evidence in her journal of any consideration she made. The sitter lacked Mage’s memories, which presented a critical vulnerability. The saving grace for Mage was the sitter always gravitated toward the same knowledge Mage had. Behaving almost in the same way she did. For instance, Mage had speculated in her journal that she didn’t need to go over the details of her wedding day, since the sitter would probably have made the same decisions on venue, flower arrangements, and so forth. The solution was to boost the sitter’s confidence so that she could think the same way and remain safe. Keeping the sitter hidden must have been a harder challenge than Mage let on in her journals. [[Back |tadm02.04.03]] [[Next |tadm02.05.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __V__ [continue] Mage’s cheeks stung in the cold winter air. She quickly wrapped the platter of brownies with the blanket that they had been resting on. Even though the back door was closed, she could still hear the children giggling with Henry. “Mama left the light on in the She Shed.” Mama had not left the light on. The sitter had, and she knew better. Light slipped out through the seams of the door of the gray windowless shed. It had once been the exclusive home of their lawn and garden tools, but after Christmas Mage had told Henry that she was going to claim it as her own. The idea had been met with some resistance, but Mage convinced him by saying fixing it up would require her to stay home more. After that, the hardest thing to convince him was that he didn’t need to buy a space heater for it. Mage was careful to unlock the padlock with minimal sound, then pull one of the doors open in a loud rush to catch the Gwenhwyfach by surprise. The light from the lantern spilled out to the yard, as did a shadow cast by the person standing in front of it. Mage entered and closed the door as fast as possible. Henry and the kids were busy doing other things, so they wouldn’t have noticed an extra shadow. She hoped. Inside, the sitter was pacing back and forth, her arms folded over her chest and hands rubbing her arms over her coat. The interior was unpainted, and both sides of the barn were home to an orderly array of lawn care equipment for all seasons. But that didn’t extend the length of the shed, and the back quarter of it was where the sitter lived when she was off the clock. [[Back |tadm02.04.04]] [[Next |tadm02.05.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “Hi, Mage, did you bring me another blanket?” the sitter asked, looking at what Mage was holding. “I did”—Mage leaned forward but then turned away—“but I don’t think I should have. You know what I’ve said about the light.” The Gwenhwyfach followed her with a step. “Yes, I’m sorry, it just gets so dark in here close to sunset. Do you want me to turn it off?” “No, I’ll turn it off when I leave. But don’t do it again, or I’ll take it away.” Mage offered the blanket, but the sitter only took the pan of brownies and said, “Ohh! I’ve been craving these! How did you know?” “Lucky guess,” Mage replied with a hint of sarcasm, then added, “Don’t worry about being alone out here in the dark. You won’t have to stay in the shed much longer. I’ve rented an apartment by work.” “So, I’m…” “You’re being promoted to nanny.” “This is fantastic! Things must be going great at work.” Mage shook her head. “They are progressing. There’s still so much I need to do.” To make an impression, Mage had helped one of the floundering sales reps land a large client that had been considered out of Dynamic Marketing Solutions’ league. While the sales rep was shopping his resume around town, Mage had the freedom to pursue the client according to her own ability. If Mage could get the contracts signed before the merger finalized, Elite Clientele would find it had additional revenue it hadn’t planned on. That assumed Mage could deliver what the client wanted before Elite Clientele started giving everyone the ax. [[Back |tadm02.05.01]] [[Next |tadm02.05.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The customer’s timeline was aggressive, and they were light on details for what they wanted. The details they did have kept changing, while the timeline remained fixed. Mage was going to need to put in even more work. She didn’t know what she was doing, but this wasn’t about knowing. It was about doing. Knowledge was both a luxury she could not afford and a barrier to accomplishment. If she could get it done, knowledge wouldn’t matter. Just like using dark magic to summon the Gwenhwyfach. Mage sat down on a lawn chair and gestured for the sitter to sit on the riding lawn mower. “There are some things we need to go over, but you should know…” She took a brief moment to confirm that she wanted to share this information with the sitter. “There’s a gun in the house.” There was no change in the sitter’s expression as she consumed the brownies. Mage continued. “It’s in a safe. I bought it a long time ago to protect myself, and since then I keep it to also protect my family. In case anyone breaks in, I’m going to need you to protect them.” “Oh, is this the same gun you purchased with Tommy?” This caught Mage off guard. “How do you know about that? You don’t have any memories of mine.” The sitter stopped eating, holding a brownie an inch from her mouth. Guilt coated her voice. “Oh, one of the times I was sitting for you, I thought it would be helpful if I paged through your journals.” [[Back |tadm02.05.02]] [[Next |tadm02.05.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Mage gritted her teeth. “You are not to go through those, they are private. They are mine.” “I’m sorry. I knew you’d be mad, but I did it anyway.” She still held the brownie, waiting for some sign of permission that it was alright to continue eating. “Why?” “I thought it would be helpful. I want this arrangement to work.” Mage thought about taking the blanket back with her. She used it to cover her lap, and the sitter could have it after she left. She also reconsidered the combination with the safe. “It won’t happen again. And I understand why you want me to be the one to protect your family. Henry won’t do it.” “No, he won’t.” As confident as Henry could be, he would be useless in a moment that required instant decisiveness. The nanny resumed eating the brownie. “He doesn’t understand how dangerous people can be.” Mage removed the blanket from her lap and wrapped it around the sitter’s shoulders and took a brownie for herself. “Yes”—Mage nodded—“people can be very dangerous.” It is no wonder to me why Mage took all of her journals with her when she moved to the apartment. She couldn’t take much with her without Henry noticing things were missing, but she made sure to take them. The nanny picked up another brownie. “Do you think I could write my own journals after you leave?” “Maybe… I suppose you’ll have to. It would be suspicious if it looked like I stopped all of a sudden.” [[Back |tadm02.05.03]] [[Next |tadm02.06.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __VI__ [continue] By March, the two of them had gotten into a rhythm. It was better than Mage had anticipated. Not only was the deal with the larger client inked and she was on her way to saving the jobs of her friends, but it was also strongly hinted that after the merger she would take on a new important role at Elite Clientele. A singular honor that would not be bestowed on anyone else at Dynamic Marketing Solutions, Inc. This would not have been possible without the sublet of an efficiency apartment close to work. Although it was a temporary home for her, she made sure it was tastefully maintained and decorated. It had significantly fewer shades of eggshell, and the furniture wouldn’t be featured in a magazine, but it was as close to a miniature version of her home as she could get. Moving to the apartment was not an easy choice for her. But it was necessary. Her biggest fear was whether Henry would discover the additional expenses. She figured if it didn’t go on for too long, she was confident she could pull it off. If she didn’t get careless. From her new apartment, she was able to devote her time to her work family while the nanny devoted time to Mage’s home family. Keeping up the appearance that Mage had quit her job. There was a wrinkle to her success of managing both home and work. Her promotion involved managing people in a different department from her friends. The long hours she was driven to put in before were now expected, and she had frequent disagreements with her direct reports. She hadn’t even thought of how she would break the news to Henry that she would “return to work.” That was a problem she could solve later. Right now, she still had to deliver the goods to her big client. [[Back |tadm02.05.04]] [[Next |tadm02.06.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- So, she continued to devote her whole life to her job. It was the only path to the promotion she wanted. But she also wound up taking on a few more high profile projects at work, as kind of a backup plan, in case she couldn’t deliver for her client. Then she could get the promotion she really wanted. The one that would reunite her with Tommy and the rest of her work family. She committed to projects she never would be able to if she were rushing to pick up the kids from daycare. Or worse, staying home. There were occasional moments where she missed Henry and the children, but she never missed the time her family took from her. They were happy with the Gwenhwyfach. Mage saw no reason to feel anything but pleased with herself for solving a complicated problem with an unconventional solution. But things took a turn before Mage had wanted them to. She began to develop abnormal aches and pains, and her appearance in the mirror had more wrinkles than it used to. At first, she wrote it off on the additional stress of the past year, but as it continued, it became impossible to deny that something was wrong. Her closest friends at the company began to express concerns for her health. Mage held back her irritation. They had no idea what she had done for them, and instead of being grateful, they criticized her appearance. She began working from home: the new efficiency apartment. It was small and, according to her journal, “modestly furnished.” But it was also comfortable. [[Back |tadm02.06.01]] [[Next |tadm02.06.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- To say it’s nicer than my place really isn’t saying much. It’s a low bar to clear. But the furnishings were new and trendy. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the layout on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store where I load up on microwavable noodles. The secret of Mage’s whole arrangement wasn’t hers alone to keep. She depended heavily on the nanny to keep the family in the dark. Mage approached it like most tasks and scheduled a recurring meeting. Which proved to be more challenging than she had thought. They had to plan out scenarios, like what would happen if Henry was in the room when Mage called the nanny? This particular scenario had a two-part solution. First, the nanny insisted to Henry that even though she was home during the day, the children would still need to go to childcare because she would need time to herself, just a few hours. Mage was impressed the nanny was able to persuade her husband to concede to such a demand. The second part was that the nanny had to be the one to initiate the scheduled phone call. Just in case Henry had to work from home. It’s unclear in the diary who contributed the most to these schemes. I got the impression it was not one hundred percent driven by Mage. Perhaps she would have given it more thought if she weren’t all-consumed with work. As Mage delivered assignments above expectations, her journal became a boring mess of business buzzwords. She started sketching out ideas for presentations. There are better uses for paper. [[Back |tadm02.06.02]] [[Next |tadm02.06.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- I don’t know that she was even asked to do it, she just seemed to want them ready. With her focus on work, she struggled to keep her calendar available for the call with the nanny, finding herself in back-to-back meetings all day, sometimes double- or triple-booked. The first time the nanny’s call went to voicemail, Mage was delivering a proposal to a leadership group. Her phone buzzed, and for an instant she was distracted. She wondered why the nanny would call at this time, but then realized this was their regularly scheduled call. How had she not carved out time for her? All those moments wondering created an awkward silence. Mage seized it and incorporated it effectively into her delivery for the council. After the meeting, she listened to the message. There was nothing new. Just the mundane stuff the nanny had already mastered. Mage had worried for nothing. So, more calls started going to voicemail. In her journal, she contemplated what life would be like if this became a permanent arrangement, and she never had to “pay the nanny.” By the beginning of summer, they had relaxed their routine to only require infrequent communication. Or that was the assumption that Mage was under. She would have that notion challenged when she started to plan for her wedding anniversary. But I’m getting ahead of myself. [[Back |tadm02.06.03]] [[Next |tadm02.07.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __VII__ [continue] The first week of June brought performance reviews, something she had been putting off, as she was not impressed by the work of the people reporting to her. She scheduled them all on a single day, and by late afternoon she was having trouble keeping all the names straight. When the last meeting of the day started, she didn’t even look up from her desk. Just focused on the page of mediocrity in front of her. “Mage?” a middle-aged man said. But it wasn’t just any middle-aged man. She looked up to see Tommy, dressed for a golf course that he’d never set foot on. “What? Well, this is a surprise! What are you doing here?” He was sitting across from her and wore a silent burden. “I’ve been trying to schedule some time with you. We barely see you anymore.” “Well, I’ve had a lot going on!” “Ya… Seems like you’ve been working yourself to…” She caught a hint of judgment, and it stung. He was never good at confrontation, and she was a little frustrated that she felt obligated to help him in this moment. “To what?” “Well… when was the last time you were home?” [[Back |tadm02.06.04]] [[Next |tadm02.07.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Not exactly a hard-hitting question. “I spend plenty of time at home. Do most of my work from there.” “That’s not what I meant. When was the last time you took the weekend off?” She couldn’t look him in the eye, but refused to flinch, so she looked at the wall behind him. He continued, “Or a day off, or a break for that matter?” “That’s enough,” she said. It appeared that over the last year Tommy had gained something of a backbone. And Mage did not like it. People shouldn’t change. If Tommy was a completely different person, then whose job had she saved? And what about the rest of her work family? Had they changed too? “We’re worried about you, Mage. Is there something… you know, troubling you?” His eyes were focused on his hands, which were folded in his lap. Mage made the mental note that he wasn’t completely fearless. “You should worry about yourself.” That came out stronger than she’d intended, but she wasn’t going to take it back. “I’ve called and texted for months, and you haven’t responded. Hell, I had to convince someone to give up their performance review so I could get a word with you.” Mage looked down at the checklist she had prepared for that review and shook her head. She mumbled, “Not like they were getting a good one anyway.” “That’s what they said. You used to pull with us, not push against us.” [[Back |tadm02.07.01]] [[Next |tadm02.07.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “Pulled?… With you? You don’t get it, do you? I pulled for you during the merger. You have a job because of me.” He stood up and walked toward the door of her office, shaking his head. “Do you know they were going to lay off more people than they did? Think it’s just a coincidence that my friends were spared?” What bothered her the most in this moment was that her words had no effect on him. He wasn’t tense, he walked without any urgency, and his hand rested patiently on the door. “You have no idea what I did for you!” She raised her voice. “I know you did something,” he said with a quiet confidence. “I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t healthy.” She began shaking her head. “I barely recognize you. Whatever it is you are doing, you need to quit it, and do it cold turkey.” But this wasn’t an addiction. There was nothing to quit. The rapidness of the changes in her appearance couldn’t have been natural, and therefore must be supernatural. And the only supernatural thing she had been involved with was the dark spell she’d cast. Which was the logic she used to conclude that these physical changes were the price she had to pay for the spell. Comparatively, it was a small cost. And she’d do it again. But as she looked at Tommy, who was patiently waiting for some sort of response from her, she wouldn’t have used the spell to help him or their friends. No, just for herself. For the promotion. [[Back |tadm02.07.02]] [[Next |tadm02.07.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Tommy added, “You’re not even going to deny it?” This time it was him prompting her to finish the conversation. She replied in a softer tone, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Of course.” He opened the door. After stepping out, he paused before shutting it. Mage shuffled some papers, waiting for him to close the door, but he just stood there. “What?” she asked. “I thought I should tell you that I saw her.” “Who?” “You know.” Mage stopped shuffling the papers and locked her panic-filled eyes with Tommy’s. She was trying to ask, “When?” but her mouth wouldn’t open. Instead, Tommy got in the last words. “She’s not you, no matter how many people she has fooled.” And he closed the door. [[Back |tadm02.07.03]] [[Next |tadm02.08.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __VIII__ [continue] Mage didn’t know how to handle Tommy’s encounter with the nanny. She wanted to ask the nanny, but at the same time she didn’t want to hear an answer she didn’t like. And there was no answer that wasn’t going to send her into a fit of anger. She settled on less contact with the nanny instead of more. I imagine that feeling calm lured her into the illusion of feeling in control. By July, the nanny’s calls had become so infrequent, it is safe to say they had stopped altogether. Mage attempted a few calls while the children were in childcare. But the nanny never answered the calls. Showing up at the house was dangerous, and she only considered it a last resort. One which she turned over in her mind whenever the situation made her feel helpless. Unlike before, work was unable to distract her. The despair started to settle in. Tommy knew, who else knew? Could they be convinced that they were just seeing things? To put this out of her mind, she focused her efforts on buying a new dress for her wedding anniversary next month. She had always wanted a dress from a small downtown boutique named Laurel Prim, which specialized in professional and formal wear for high-performing women. The store had less space than the alley next to the building. Not that they needed a lot of space. One dress cost more than most people were willing to spend on a car. I’m not even willing to pay any price for new clothes, unless it’s lower than the cost of ones I can get second-hand. [[Back |tadm02.07.04]] [[Next |tadm02.08.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Mage’s shopping experience was guided by an attendant named Cindy. She was a slender young woman dressed in sophisticated business attire, which portrayed the illusion she could afford to purchase the store’s merchandise. With Cindy’s help, Mage browsed the store and picked out some exciting pieces to try on. In the changing room, she discovered her dress size had gone up. I will admit, I wondered how it was this specific moment when she noticed. I would have thought it would have been impossible to miss her own clothes feeling tighter. I suspect she was in denial, and purchasing a new dress forced her to confront the fact that her body was continuing to change in both natural and unnatural ways. Cindy scooped up the clothes Mage was no longer interested in or, rather, didn’t fit. With two armfuls of dresses and hangers, she asked if Mage had a sister. For a moment, Mage wondered if Olivia had spent time in this shop. But her half sister had been deceased for several years now. Mage found herself on the brink between laughing and crying in front of Cindy. She was able to prevent either from happening by considering the question, as if her answer was somehow concealed inside of it. The few times she turned it over in her head, something about it didn’t seem right. Instead of telling Cindy she didn’t have a sister, Mage asked her what she meant. “Well, it’s just there was a woman who looked just like you, and she tried on some of the same dresses.” “If we looked exactly alike, how can you tell us apart?” The attendant awkwardly looked for an exit as she said, “She’s a little taller and the dresses were smaller.” The nanny. [[Back |tadm02.08.01]] [[Next |tadm02.08.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The nanny was buying an expensive dress. The nanny was buying an expensive dress for Mage’s wedding anniversary. And from the tone of Cindy’s voice, the nanny had become more attractive. I can’t imagine how Mage kept her cool, but she did. Sort of. She didn’t raise her voice, but she caused a ruckus. She demanded to know which dress her twin had picked. She also pressed Cindy for all the details about the dress. The size, the color, if there were any blemishes, if alterations were needed. I’m sure Cindy did her best. And Mage had her repeat the details over and over so they could be committed to memory. The comment about her “sister” being taller drew attention to Mage’s new inability to stand or sit with a straight back. She was beginning to form a small hunch. The possibility that her physical change was a result of the unknown cost she had incurred for performing a spell of dark magic crossed her mind. With the information from Cindy and an impressive amount of detective work, Mage was able to learn where the dress was being altered and when her “sister” was scheduled to pick it up. I was surprised she didn’t wrestle over the decision as she did with every other one related to her attendance at work. Instead, she simply wrote in her journal that she was owed the time. This was surprising given the number of times she had written before about how difficult it was for her to take time off, even for family commitments. Mage took the next day off work to stake out the dress store and confirm her “sister” was really the nanny. [[Back |tadm02.08.02]] [[Next |tadm02.08.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Mage did not recognize the nanny at first. She had lost weight, while Mage had gained some. The nanny had done more than go to the gym. She had changed her hair. Mage didn’t know the name of the style, only recognized it as something trendy. A style meant for younger women. With bodies younger than hers. Only, the nanny’s body was younger. Mage had not looked like that when she cast the spell. And it was doubtful a person could improve one’s health so quickly. Undoubtedly, the shift in the nanny’s appearance would make it difficult to reenter her home life. Maybe she wouldn’t have to reenter at all. It would be so easy to walk away. Then a pain stabbed the small hunch on her back. No, walking away wasn’t an option. Besides, she couldn’t do this indefinitely. Tommy already knew too much. Someone else was bound to figure out something was up, and then how would she explain it all? What would Henry say? If he had to choose, who would he pick? This would be the last time she entertained the idea of walking away. Mage didn’t know it, but she could have acknowledged her mistake then. She could have come clean with Henry. But then she would have to admit she had lost control of the situation. If any such thoughts crossed her mind, they were not written down in her journal. Mage accepted she would not make it to her anniversary dinner. I don’t think she took it gracefully either. It’s mostly speculation, but I imagine her punching pillows and throwing knickknacks around the apartment. While the nanny dined with her husband over delicacies they allowed themselves to indulge only once a year—along with the pleasures of the evening. The next morning, Mage used another personal day. According to her journal, she had intended to use it to recover from the “emotional trauma” of yesterday. But it didn’t take long before her path to recovery involved stalking the Gwenhwyfach. She cloaked her motives in her journal under the phrase: “fact-finding mission.” [[Back |tadm02.08.03]] [[Next |tadm02.08.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- But I’m calling it for what it is. Whether she used a personal day when she stalked her a third time isn’t documented. Nor are any of the other days she dedicated to watching the nanny from a safe distance. As far as her journal is concerned, she never went back to work. Over the weekend, she called the gyms in town, posing as the nanny, saying she had forgotten her membership information or lost her card and wanted to know what she needed to bring in. Similarly, she called up spas and asked when her next treatment was scheduled. In all cases, she found nothing. I admit this was a nice bit of detective work. She did more than admit defeat in her journal. She confessed her suspicion the nanny was using dark magic to enhance her beauty. To reassure herself, she kept thinking about the cost the nanny would be incurring. The unknowable and terrible debt that must be mounting. Part of her knew it was wishful thinking. She just didn’t know enough about how dark magic worked to really understand her predicament. The only way out was to “pay the nanny” before things got worse. [[Back |tadm02.08.04]] [[Next |tadm02.09.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __IX__ [continue] The next journal entry was Monday. Any pretense of this being a fact-finding exercise faded into oblivion. The entry lacked the details the earlier instances did. There were no dates, times, or places. Things like that take a controlled mind, and she had lost it. Now her rage boiled over into her journal. It was like she had been sober for years and then at the smallest sip of alcohol went on a dangerous bender just because she could. I assume this went on for days. The ink in her journals shifted periodically. There were line gaps but no dates. Assuming she continued her discipline of writing every day, it would have been four days. But I suspect it was more before she was able to regain some control. The next dated entry, she complained about the pains she had. Almost like she was hungover. Shortly after that, it all went to hell when she decided that she needed to know whether the locks on her home had been changed. She drove out to her old home. Where Henry and the children lived. Under the control of the Gwenhwyfach. In the house fit for a magazine cover and a two-acre lot. A brief hope sparked when her key fit in the front door lock, but her relief crumbled when the key wouldn’t turn. Maybe the frequency of the garage door opener had not changed. Mage used the spare opener she kept in her purse. Inside, she found the door to the house unlocked. The mudroom had never had a visible speck of mud in it, and she was glad to see that it hadn’t changed. Pairs of shoes and flip-flops were all lined up against the wall, waiting for the day to be worn. [[Back |tadm02.08.05]] [[Next |tadm02.09.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- She had not come with a physical confrontation in mind, but she found one easily enough. Walking from the mudroom to the kitchen, she saw new pictures had been hung. There was one of her children with three other older children, all smiling and with their arms around each other. The frame read: ‘Cousins.’ And then another frame with an elderly man, whose smile belonged behind bars. ‘Grandpa.’ She turned and braced herself against the kitchen counter. For the moment, the pain in her back was dulled by the pain inside herself. There were too many emotions crammed into one space, demanding to be dealt with. Nothing would get done until she started sorting it all out. She had to start somewhere, and anger seemed to be the most convenient. Her first rational thought was whether she needed to hide for her attack. An ambush had its advantages. But on the other hand, this was her home. The nanny was the impostor, not her. She decided there were other things that needed to be done, so she told herself she’d come back to the decision after she checked the gun safe. She turned a corner from the kitchen into the front hallway and noticed the cordless phone wasn’t in its charger. “Dammit, Henry, you never learn.” She couldn’t help scanning the hallway for it. It was habit. She took the stairs to the second floor, stepped into the expansive master bedroom, and glanced around the room for the phone. Not here either. But that didn’t matter, because the object she was really after was in the safe next to her bedside. The one she had left for the nanny to defend her children if necessary. The one she had bought all those years ago with Tommy. [[Back |tadm02.09.01]] [[Next |tadm02.09.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The safe had buttons like an old payphone. She pressed the code, but didn’t hear anything unlock. The handle remained firm and the door sealed tight. The locks to the house were not the only ones that had been changed. Now the question was, was the gun locked inside? Or was the nanny carrying it with her? Mage walked downstairs and sat at the breakfast bar, facing the mudroom. She had made up her mind against an ambush, as she would only be satisfied by a direct confrontation. She pulled the nanny’s payment out of her purse to check the safety. This was the one she had purchased for her apartment. My unique branch of investigative work does not require any knowledge of firearms. They are spectacularly ineffective against supernatural attackers. You may have heard a rumor that silver bullets are useful against the undead or inhuman, but most people who make the claim have never been in a physical altercation with any creature of that nature. So, I don’t take their word for it. In any case, I can’t tell you what type of gun Mage owned, or even describe it other than it fit awkwardly in her purse. I gather it was a weapon that left no question on intent. If a living person received a bullet fired from its chamber, then that person wouldn’t be living much longer. And hopefully wouldn’t become undead. Mage checked her handgun while she waited. Again and again. She had second thoughts about sitting at the table, which was odd, since she never seemed to have second thoughts. She could feel conflicted at times, like during the ordeal with her sister. But feeling conflicted never influenced her decision-making. Doubting herself was not something she did. [[Back |tadm02.09.02]] [[Next |tadm02.09.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Her focus returned at the sound of a car pulling into the garage. A door slammed, and heels clicked on the cement. When the door opened into the mudroom, she switched the safety off. In one swift motion, Mage burst up from her seat with her weapon pointed forward and rushed to meet her nemesis. A flash of pain blinded her for a moment. Her quick motions no longer came without consequence to her body. The hunch in her shoulder gave her grief. Still, from Mage’s description of events, the nanny was unprepared for this confrontation. The nanny screamed and put her hands up. To Mage’s relief, she dropped her purse. If the handgun was concealed inside, it wouldn’t do the nanny any good now. “Who are you?” the nanny asked. “What do you want?” “Who am I?” Mage almost said, “I’m you,” but stopped herself. In place of those words, she said, “I’m the one who conjured you.” The nanny tried to speak, but Mage screamed over her. “And look what it’s done to me! Look what you’ve done to me.” The nanny slowly kneeled down, still keeping her hands in the air, and pleaded. “Please… I didn’t…” “Don’t act so surprised, you had to know it would come to this at some point.” The nanny continued her pleas to be spared, and Mage found them repulsive. This creature in front of her had taken her children to meet the scumbag who was her father. BANG! The gunshot and the subsequent hole through the nanny’s chest made it impossible for her to say anything else. [[Back |tadm02.09.03]] [[Next |tadm02.09.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Death was not instant, but it wasn’t long. Mage put the gun down on the breakfast bar while she looked for supplies to clean the scene. She stretched out the arm on the side of her hunch without any benefit of relief. As she did, she saw the purse the nanny had dropped. Was there a gun inside? Her hunch tightened again, and this time the pain would only be relieved when her curiosity was satisfied. Carefully, she lifted the purse and emptied out the contents. Gum and car keys fell out, but not a firearm. It had been safely locked away. Where else would it be? Henry hated the thing. He wouldn’t be carrying it. Cracking the safe would be another thing to add to her to-do list. For the moment, she could afford to put that at the bottom. But above finding the phone. The immediate priority was the terrible mess that needed attention. In her inexperience, Mage had hoped the nanny, being a creature conjured from magic, would just vanish. But she was prepared in case she needed to sanitize the room. She estimated she had six hours before anyone would come home. She retrieved the supplies from the trunk of her car and began by unwrapping a blue camping tarp, then opened a package of new rags and got to work. Forty-five minutes into her cleanup, Henry walked in. [[Back |tadm02.09.04]] [[Next |tadm02.10.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __X__ [continue] Mage found her new aches and pains were making the cleaning go slower than she had planned. The hunch, in particular, was causing her a lot of grief as she scrubbed the blood from the mudroom floor with a hand brush. She was so focused on trying to stay on schedule that she didn’t hear Henry enter through the front door. She only knew he was there when he asked, “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” He hadn’t seen the body yet. “Henry, it’s me.” There was still blood on the floor, and the nanny’s body was rolled into a lumpy, blue camping tarp. He shook his head, and his face twisted at the smell of something terrible. The pitch of his scream was like that of a child’s crying out to his mother, but with the volume of a grown adult. Mage bolted to her feet, not realizing who had screamed. “What have you done to Mage!” Mage wanted to respond, but in the moment she could only think of a question which she knew she shouldn’t ask. Why was he here when he should be at work? This was replaced by fear, as she didn’t immediately recall where she had left her handgun, but then spotted it a good distance away. She avoided looking in the direction of the breakfast bar, where it rested in plain sight, behind Henry. Mage had never seen any inclination of violence in him, but it didn’t matter anymore. Anyone, even Henry, could be dangerous in a panic. [[Back |tadm02.09.05]] [[Next |tadm02.10.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- He also happened to be inconveniently standing between Mage and her weapon. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember if she had turned the safety back on. She must have. It’s what she always did. The fact that she could not remember didn’t change the fact that she must have done it. He hadn’t shown interest in the gun. He was too consumed by everything else, and if he made a surprise run for the weapon, she would have a good chance of stopping him. “Henry. I’m Mage,” she said, standing up slowly. Even though he didn’t have a weapon, she held her hands up with her palms open. No one would ever expect a murderer to claim the identity of their victim. Henry pulled out his cell phone. “She wasn’t your wife. I am.” His hands shook so much, the phone didn’t unlock. “I’m calling the police.” “All they are going to find is an intruder in our home, that I shot. You idiot.” He turned to her and said, “You’re not Mage.” Which gave him enough control to unlock the phone and start dialing the numbers. Time for the truth. And with the manner in which he accused her, she didn’t take a sympathetic tone when delivering it. “Think about it, Henry. Think about what’s changed these last few months. There’s a picture of our children with Olivia’s kids. Would your wife suddenly become free of the pain surrounding her father that she would just…” [[Back |tadm02.10.01]] [[Next |tadm02.10.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The lump in Mage’s throat wouldn’t let her continue to make her argument from that angle. She moved to another one. The numbers were dialed. He just needed to push the green button to make things more complicated. “Would the woman you married suddenly agree to quit her job?” He began to put the phone down. Now that she had a moment, she wondered what he was doing home in the middle of the day. She pushed the question to the back of her mind. The situation was still volatile. “Look at me, Henry. I know I look different than I did a few months ago, and so does she.” “My wife isn’t a murderer.” “Neither am I, Henry. She wasn’t real, she wasn’t a person.” “Listen to yourself. Of course she was a person.” He started bringing the phone back up. Mage raced to find another way to make Henry understand he had been living with an impostor. “Your anniversary. OUR anniversary. After the dinner. At home. In the bedroom. She didn’t celebrate the usual way.” The phone returned down again. “I had to tell her what to do. And she seemed surprised.” He was disgusted and heartbroken. “But she looked just like you, or like you used to. Who is… or was she?” “She wasn’t real.” [[Back |tadm02.10.02]] [[Next |tadm02.10.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “How can you say that? Look at her body and all her blood!” “She wasn’t real, because I conjured her, Henry.” Henry refused to take anything she said without a challenge. They argued while Mage returned to cleaning, keeping a careful eye on the handgun on the table. There were no reasons for her to conceal the truth of her deeds from Henry. She left nothing out, and he believed none of it. “Prove it.” “What?” “Prove to me magic exists.” “No.” “You’re a fraud.” “Fine. I’m the proof, and so is she. I gained weight and started walking with a hunch. All the while she was getting thinner, looking younger, and styling her hair without going to a gym, spa, or hair salon.” “So, to get your appearance back, you’ll have to use magic again? Do it now. Use magic to make yourself look like her.” Mage hadn’t thought about how she would undo the nanny’s handiwork. Again she hoped it would all reverse itself. Now that the nanny had been “paid.” “That might be. But right now, I’ve got to finish cleaning up, and later you will have to pick up the kids.” [[Back |tadm02.10.03]] [[Next |tadm02.10.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “But Mage always picked up the kids!” Henry whined. The murderous look on her face produced instant regret, and he gestured that he was sorry. Her temper did not rupture, but it was stretching its limits. She focused on another quick task to cross off her list. She fished through the nanny’s purse, pulled out her phone, and transferred it to her own purse. Later she’d cancel the plan. “Exactly the reason why I can’t pick them up. The center won’t recognize me, and neither will our children.” His silence meant he needed more convincing. “Do you want to clean up?” Mage asked. His convulsion said no before he spoke the word. Then he added, “Where will you be when we get back?” “Not here.” “Will you be coming back?” “Yes, Henry. This is my home. You’re my husband and we have children. I just need to sort some stuff out.” [[Back |tadm02.10.04]] [[Next |tadm02.11.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XI__ [continue] The next several days’ worth of entries in Mage’s journal detail her efforts to restore her physical appearance and to relieve the pain knotting in her shoulder. In her words, she was trying to: “Reverse the effects of the nanny’s curse.” She was smart enough not to try to solve her problems with dark magic this time. But it seems to me that she only learned half of her lesson. The unlearned portion related to how much of the situation she thought she could control. Or rather, she hadn’t even learned how out of her control it had become. In any case, progress was not easy. Her right shoulder was now heavier, taking the hunch in her back from subtle to unmistakable. She was also experiencing a dull pain in her hip, which forced her to take awkward and uneven steps when she walked. The wrinkles on her skin couldn’t be concealed anymore. It was as if something were being inflicted on her. Henry called her every day with the same question. “When are you coming home?” Every time she couldn’t give him a clear answer, he grew more upset. The ordeal had left a terrible mark on his psyche. His resolve was tested each time he repeated and reinforced the lies to their two children. Each successful lie magnified his guilt. Mage had to coach him on the lies and reassure him there was an end in sight. Helping Henry cope was proving to be harder than taking care of the nanny. He called one night while she was trying to figure out if the esoteric book on occult transformation spells had any substance to it. And that night, she couldn’t take his questions, his weakness, anymore. “Why is this so hard for you?” she snapped over the phone. “It’s just like turning off the lights when you leave a room. Just work at it and eventually you’ll break the habit.” [[Back |tadm02.10.05]] [[Next |tadm02.11.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “What are you talking about?” She was tired and in pain. She shouldn’t have to always make perfect sense. Why did she always have to do all the work? For everyone. “This sulking is a habit and makes this whole situation more difficult than it needs to be. I need to focus, Henry. I need to fix whatever she did to me. Just break the habit of sulking the same way you broke the habit of leaving the lights on.” “I’m not talking about my mood.” “What?” Had she missed something? Her head was a fog. She looked back down at her book but couldn’t recall which paragraph she left off at. When Henry didn’t respond, she added, “What is it? I don’t have time for this.” “Fine. I never started turning off the lights. It’s not a habit. I think it’s unnecessary and stupid that you get upset about something so trivial.” The line went cold while they both rearmed themselves for the next round. Mage knew Henry had turned off the lights because she saw the lights were off in the den the day she paid the nanny. He must be lying, unless someone else turned them off. And then Mage contemplated something she hadn’t before. She closed the book and smoothed her voice. She didn’t need a confrontation, she needed cooperation. Henry had information she needed to understand the events of that day. A calm Mage asked, “Henry, where was the phone?” “What?” “That day. The day you learned about dark magic. Where did you leave the phone?” [[Back |tadm02.11.01]] [[Next |tadm02.11.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “I don’t think I used it that day.” An edge returned to her voice. “Think harder, then.” He did not follow her directive and immediately replied, “I don’t know. What kind of question is that?” “A fucking important one!” She calmed herself in the silence that followed, then added, “After I left, when did you use it next?” “I ordered pizza for the kids that night.” “Think carefully. I need you to remember exactly where you found the phone.” Henry took his time before answering. His voice was indifferent when he finally responded, “On the charger.” “Oh, shit” was how she started swearing. It continued for some time. Not at Henry, but at the situation. “Mage, what’s the problem?” “When I was there, I couldn’t find the phone. It wasn’t in its charger.” “So, one of the kids put it back.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “No, they do it all the time. They know how upset you get when you see it off the charger. They put it back to keep the peace.” It was logical. It made sense. [[Back |tadm02.11.02]] [[Next |tadm02.11.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- But it did not comfort her. “Henry, why did you come home from work in the middle of the day?” “Because you called… I mean, she called me and asked me to come home.” “Did she give a reason?” There was energy in his response. “She, ah, wanted to…” and then his eagerness stumbled, “um, be romantic.” “Oh God, you came home for a quickie.” “I feel terrible.” His heartache was clear over the phone. “Stop it. Stop feeling guilty about it. You weren’t cheating.” She spoke over his sobbing. He was inconsolable. Her question returned to her, and she continued, “Henry, do you know the combination to the gun safe?” “Of course.” “Not the one I set, but the new one.” “Ya, I think so. Why?” “Could you check to see if the gun is inside.” “Why wouldn’t it be?” “Just check it!” she snapped. [[Back |tadm02.11.03]] [[Next |tadm02.11.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- In the few minutes of silence while he checked, Mage’s irritation at her husband’s inability to follow instructions grew. He didn’t need to ask so many questions. Just do what she asked. He picked up the phone and answered, “I can’t believe this, but it’s not there.” Mage swore away from the phone’s receiver. She didn’t want Henry to hear her. “Mage, why isn’t the gun in the safe? Where is it? Are we in trouble?” She forced herself to sound calmer than she actually was. “Look, I need you to think carefully, clearly, about that phone call from the nanny that day. I need to ask you a question about it, and it may help with getting everything back to normal.” He collected himself. “Where was she calling from?” “She called me from the house.” There had been no hesitation. No moment for reflection. “What do you mean?” “She called my mobile phone from the home line. I remember it clearly because I thought it was so strange. Why didn’t she use her cell like normal? And the call itself was, you know… memorable.” Mage had left the nanny’s cell phone on her desk as a reminder to cancel the contract. And then she put it all together. “Henry, I think the nanny may have used the same duplication spell I did.” [[Back |tadm02.11.04]] [[Next |tadm02.11.06]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- She expected him to realize the gravity of the situation, but his response was chipper. “You mean, she’s still alive?” “Don’t sound so hopeful. But it sounds like she was in the house when I took care of the one.” “So, she could have attacked you at any time?” He was right. She may have even had the handgun ready, or she could have picked up the one carelessly left on the breakfast bar. The nanny, the real one, could have left her hiding spot and shot her in the back with either of the two weapons. “No. She needs me alive for some reason.” She wasn’t positive, but she needed Henry to keep it together. Any distressing news would send him into a panic and make him useless. But it didn’t stop him from starting down that path. “What about me? What about our children? Does she need us alive?” His whining made her lose her train of thought. “Will you shut up! If she wanted any of us dead, she would have done it by now.” Henry returned to his sobbing, and Mage returned to her scheming. [[Back |tadm02.11.05]] [[Next |tadm02.12.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XII__ [continue] The next morning, Mage went out for a cup of coffee. She didn’t pretend to read the paper or write down notes. At a table for two, she sipped an Americano, hoping it would be strong enough to put her mind into the right frame for solving her supernatural crisis. Nameless people walked in and out while she examined the situation, explored a question, then repeated the cycle while occasionally mumbling to herself. The question she kept coming back to was, how long until the nanny didn’t need her alive anymore? Because clearly she needed her. Otherwise, why hadn’t she ambushed her when Mage was taking care of the other duplicate? Why did she lure Henry there instead? Another sip of the Americano danced through her lips. Approaching the dilemma from different angles, she realized she had gotten something wrong. Henry and the children were in danger. If the nanny needed Mage alive, but just out of the way, she could frame her for a crime. Like the murder of her family. But then the nanny would need a new identity, and that would be difficult to arrange. That’s probably why she’d gone silent. She was finalizing the last stages of her plan. Unless it was Henry she needed alive. Or wanted alive. All to herself. There was no way to tell. Mage didn’t have any facts. Only fears. She needed to do something besides imagining another worst-case scenario. This was the moment she conceded the world of dark magic was too complicated to understand alone. She was going to need an expert to navigate her out of the ordeal. Which is when she met the fortune-teller. Or, rather, he introduced himself to her. “I know the look of someone playing chess,” said a voice in an unfamiliar accent. [[Back |tadm02.11.06]] [[Next |tadm02.12.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Mage looked up from her Americano. A short old man with a smile was waiting for her reply. He wore vintage formal clothes that were so well cared for, they looked new. They made an attempt to cover his belly. His hair was parted, slick and orderly, but his face belonged to a sales rep who had been through several bad years. “Oh, are you talking to me?” “Of course, you are the one playing the game, aren’t you?” There was nothing on Mage’s table that could be even remotely confused with a chess set. “Um… there’s not a board.” “You may not be playing a game, but you are certainly considering your next move.” Mage found his double meaning. She waited for the sales pitch, assuming it would be vacuum cleaners or insurance. “Mage is it?” he asked as he pulled up the chair across from her. This weirdo had crossed a line. He was doing research behind the scenes. Almost like a repo man. She had perfectly good credit, so what could this guy want? The coffee turned bitter in her stomach as she realized he might be here to collect on her outstanding debt for her spell. But that didn’t make sense, because she thought her physical change was the cost. She pulled out a phrase that didn’t need forcing. “Yes, have we met?” “Yesterday. Or maybe it wasn’t you.” “It definitely wasn’t. You’re a memorable individual. I bet you leave quite the impression.” [[Back |tadm02.12.01]] [[Next |tadm02.12.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The man shrugged and pouted out his lower lip, then said, “Could have been the other you.” Mage didn’t know what to say or how to act, she just sat there, dumbfounded, while the coffee started crawling up into the back of her throat. The man let a moment pass before he broke the silence. “She is considering her next move too.” Several things about the encounter were distressing to Mage, but the fact he spoke without any sort of regard to anyone who might overhear was something she wouldn’t play along with. She leaned over the table and whispered, “How do you know about us?” “I am what you would call a fortune-teller.” “Why are you here?” “I want to sell you something.” “My fortune?” “No, I’m selling a solution to your problem with your duplicate.” “You can really help me?” “For a price.” “I need proof.” “Ha, I think you’ve all the proof you need. You did the impossible. You found the thing that wasn’t supposed to exist. You pulled back the veil of doubt and found fantasy on equal footing with reality. You cast a spell that worked. You, Mage, are the proof.” [[Back |tadm02.12.02]] [[Next |tadm02.12.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- This was too easy. Something didn’t sit right with Mage. “Did she pay you? Are you helping her?” “You are accusing me of playing both sides? Would someone in that position tell his clients he was speaking to their opponents?” “Why can’t you give me a yes or no answer?” “Why can’t you accept the opportunity you’ve been offered?” “Because some things are too good to be true.” “Ha, if you followed that advice, you’d never have agreed to the terms of the spell that condemned you to some unspeakable fate.” “It’s not so bad. I’ll adjust to the new appearance, and I can take things to manage the pain.” The fortune-teller laughed. “That is not your cost. That is her casting a spell on you. You still haven’t had your reckoning.” She almost dismissed him, but it dawned on her that had she been in the same position as the nanny, she would have done the same thing. The man smiled, seeing that she had accepted his observation. Mage had gotten caught doing something she’d suspected was wrong from the start. She figured a lecture or some sort of punishment would be coming shortly, but instead the fortune-teller told her a story. [[Back |tadm02.12.03]] [[Next |tadm02.12.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “You’ve only just glimpsed the smallest fragment of magic, and I can’t tell you everything all at once, but I’ll start with the djinn. Or genies, as you have probably heard them called. Magical creatures born of a smokeless fire. Long ago, they walked the desert and occasionally interfered with humanity. “Until the day when one of them decided to make life very difficult for one man, a fortune-teller not so different from myself. Indeed, the djinn convinced the village the man was a fraud, and they imprisoned him at night to execute in the morning. In his cell, the fortune-teller constructed a trap out of a simple ring that was powerful enough to contain a djinn. “In the morning, the prisoner was taken out into the public market to meet his end, and just as he suspected, the djinn was there in disguise to witness his demise. And if you are familiar with how djinn disguise themselves, as the fortune-teller was, it is not difficult to spot them. “The man threw his ring at the djinn, and the disguise was revealed before the crowd. They screamed in panic only to watch the djinn be pulled into the trap. The fortune-teller was released, and the ring put in a safe place where the djinn would need to fulfill a life of servitude by granting wishes and could only earn his freedom when someone had wished him free.” Mage waited for the story to turn, but that was it. “I don’t get it. What was the point of your story?” “The point is, the world has heard variations of this story for centuries, but the only thing anyone remembers is that if they find the artifact they can get their wishes granted. No one talks about the fact that a mortal was able to construct a trap in one night powerful enough to contain a magical creature.” [[Back |tadm02.12.04]] [[Next |tadm02.12.06]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Mage thought she got it now. She wasn’t being scolded. The fortune-teller was sincere. “And do you know how to make a trap like that one?” “Yes. But not in one night, mind you. I mean, maybe. If my life was in the balance.” “How much time would you need?” “Let’s talk price before we talk details.” [[Back |tadm02.12.05]] [[Next |tadm02.13.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XIII__ [continue] Fortune-tellers and other mystics have a way of popping up when dark magic has been used. I wish I understood how they know a spell has been cast. I just stumble into these cases, and I would prefer to see them coming. Maybe even avoid a few. In my earlier days as a paranormal detective, it would have been easy for me to dismiss the fortune-teller as being something Mage entirely made up. There was no trace of him or her. Mage could have run away and left the journals to throw me off. But my seasoned instincts told me otherwise. Plus, I have a tangible reason to believe the fortune-teller is real. The magic involved in Mage’s solution was not dark. This was a power not available to everyone. And if you could summon the power, it still took skill to wield it properly. The trap was made out of a jewelry box. Not exactly something as inconspicuous as a ring, but it was a common enough object that no one would think to look for a person inside of it. It takes years of study in order to make a trap as complicated as the jewelry box. These contraptions were something I had heard about but never seen in person until now. I still don’t know how it works, and I take plenty of caution not to activate it. Mage’s notes were not helpful either. They mention that the jewelry box was one part of her plan, but she did not elaborate on the rest of the details. Including how she would flush the nanny out from hiding. [[Back |tadm02.12.06]] [[Next |tadm02.13.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- If I were to guess, she waited for the nanny to come to her. Or she tried to get between the nanny and what she wanted. I asked Henry what he thought, and he said he wasn’t sure, but he also sounded a bit evasive. In the end, Mage had to get close enough to the nanny to spring the trap. How and where it played out might have been helpful, but I have enough to have a good idea of what happened. Things didn’t go as planned. Whether the trap captured both of them or just Mage, I don’t know. But my guess is that Mage is now residing inside the jewelry box. [[Back |tadm02.13.01]] [[Next |tadm02.14.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XIV__ [continue] Mage searched for clues of where her nemesis might be hiding, but each hunch she tried came up with nothing. Until she tried thinking of where she, herself, would hide. Mage called Henry and provided instructions to quietly take the kids out of town for the weekend. “Tell no one.” “Will you be home when we get back?” “Possibly, but one way or another, it will be done. And, Henry, this time it is important that you turn off all the lights. If you do it one time in your life, it must be this time.” “Sure, sure.” “I mean, Henry, my life is in the balance.” “What? It’s not like she sneaks in and turns them off…” “If you left the lights on all the time, you’d never need to flip a switch when you entered a room, but I’m guessing you do that frequently.” “Oh God, she’s been in our house.” “Henry, you’re taking the kids away, and it’ll be over when you get back. But you must turn off the lights so I know she’s not in there when I go inside.” “Of course.” Mage left her home before the sun started to set, the jewelry box tucked inside a heavy jacket cinched around her waist. The jacket was too bulky to be in season, but no one would be paying attention to her. The fallen leaves moved with the softest of breezes while she had to take a break from the pains in her back walking from the door of her apartment to the door of the driving service that would take her home. [[Back |tadm02.13.02]] [[Next |tadm02.14.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Mage arrived as the sun was setting and entered the house. As the light faded, she had the confirmation she needed that Henry had kept his word. He had also left the front door locked as planned. On top of that, she found the cordless phone was on the charger. Mage walked to the back of the house, keeping her distance from the window, and observed the shed. Her evil twin’s hideout. She waited until after midnight, when the last of her neighbors’ lights had been out for an hour. The door of the shed slid open a bit, and a pair of eyes peeked out. She was checking to make sure Henry had turned off all the lights. Just as Mage would do, if that was her hiding place. Mage contemplated turning on one of the lights, see if that might catch the nanny’s attention, draw her in, but that would be improvising. She didn’t want to do that. She needed to stick to the plan. The door of the shed closed, and the creature was presumably getting ready for bed. She was vulnerable. This is when Mage needed to strike. She slipped out to the shed. Reflexively, she went to unlock it, but there was no lock on the outside. Logical. The nanny had probably put one on the inside, though. At least, that’s what Mage would have done. She knocked loud enough to be heard inside the shed but not loud enough to be heard by anyone other than the Gwenhwyfach. There was no sound of stirring. No “Who’s there?” Mage knew she had done the one thing she had failed to do since creating the impostor. She had finally taken her by surprise. [[Back |tadm02.14.01]] [[Next |tadm02.14.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- A light turned on inside and spilled out through the cracks. A lock rattled as it was released. The door creaked open an inch. Mage saw her own eyes staring back at her. “I come in peace,” Mage said. “Did you bring your gun?” “I left it inside the house.” From behind the door, the nanny revealed that she was holding one. The first one. The one she had bought instead of attending Olivia’s funeral. Mage didn’t hide her fear. “What are you going to do with that?” “Protect myself, if it comes to that.” There was an awkward moment as they sized each other up. “What did you come here for, Mage?” “I think we can make an arrangement.” “I don’t like your arrangements.” “I think you’ll like this one.” “Oh?” “May I come in?” [[Back |tadm02.14.02]] [[Next |tadm02.14.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The nanny didn’t answer with words, but she opened the door and leveled the weapon toward Mage and backed inside one careful step at a time. Mage entered the shed and closed the door behind her. “Lock it,” said the impostor. Mage did as instructed. Before she turned around, she withdrew the jewelry box from within the folds of her jacket. “What are you doing?” “Getting out a peace offering.” She held out the box. “See, nothing special.” “What is that?” “Just a jewelry box. Well, not just a jewelry box. It was my… our mother’s,” she lied. She had purchased it for the fortune-teller to work his craft on. “Give it to me.” “You should know what’s inside first.” “Give it.” She held it firm in her hand. “A journal Mom kept. It’s from the time after Dad had abandoned us. I know you’ve been in touch with him.” She placed it in the impostor’s hand, then added, “I can only imagine that he’s shared a rather rosy opinion of that period in our life.” [[Back |tadm02.14.03]] [[Next |tadm02.14.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- False Mage couldn’t decide which was more important: the box, or keeping the gun pointed on Mage. “Go on, open it. Then I’ll tell you my offer.” False Mage put the weapon down and unlatched the box. Without her lifting the lid, it sprung open, and a ghostly purple wisp flew out, spiraling around her. The shed shook, and papers blew about in the ethereal winds from within the container. Mage grew confident that she wasn’t going to be pulled in. Her impostor, however, had reached the conclusion that she was going to be trapped. In one last act of desperation, she reached for the gun and fired close to Mage’s head. Blood ruptured from her eardrum. She screamed while she watched the purple winds retreat back into the box, dragging the impostor in as well. Then the box slammed shut, and the shed filled with silence, interrupted by Mage’s cries of pain from her ear. She pushed aside the pain and moved over to the box to examine the lid. The color of the petals on the flower showed unmistakable shades of violet. Mage turned off the light and left the shed. Inside the house, she arranged for the driving service to take her back to her apartment. While the events of that evening described in the journal had been plausible up until then, what she did next struck me as odd. [[Back |tadm02.14.04]] [[Next |tadm02.14.06]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- In the time she waited for her ride, she wrote Henry a letter. She had dealt with one problem, but she was still burdened by so many others. Could she have been referring to the price she needed to pay for her use of dark magic? She was going to disappear. Become someone else. And in no uncertain terms should anyone follow her. I had known about the letter when Henry hired me. I had always expected there to be a confrontation between Mage and her creation, but her assertion that she needed to leave contradicted every entry in her journals. She never wanted to leave or considered it as an option. The penmanship was certainly similar, but the way the entry was written felt… less experienced. The ideas weren’t fully formed, and there were more crossed-out mistakes than normal. At first, I thought it was due to stress, but I began to suspect Mage was not the author of the entry. In other words, I doubted not only the events documented in the entry for that journal. I was certain that it wasn’t the nanny trapped inside that floral-themed jewelry box. I was going to have to break the news to Henry and hope that he was still good for the payment. [[Back |tadm02.14.05]] [[Next |tadm02.15.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XV__ [continue] The lack of certainty about what had happened was not nearly as frustrating as the fact that the entries stopped. The following day, Henry wasn’t able to contact Mage, and after several days he was worried. He hired me to look into the matter. I was not his first choice, but not many people are desperate enough to be that close to dark magic. Lucky for him, he contacted some people who knew how hard up I was. Henry was able to convince Mage’s landlord to give me access to her studio apartment. It was a part of her life that terrified him, and rightfully so. Henry did not join me on my tour of the apartment. At first glance, there was nothing for him to be afraid of. The room of tasteful furniture held no occupants, just a few of her personal effects. Notably, her journals, which took up several shelves and storage containers, and a jewelry box that I originally mistook for a feminine cigar box. Clothing, food, and toiletries were all gone. There were a fair amount of shoes in the closet, but I couldn’t tell if those were too small of a collection or not. How many shoes does one person need? I didn’t bother counting, but I imagine it was somewhere between eight and fifteen pairs. After a tour, the super left me alone. I started with the last entry of the journal, skipping the jewelry box altogether because I’ve never known one to be helpful in a missing person case. It didn’t take long for me to realize I should stay as far away from the potential paranormal trap. But since I’d started reading from the last entry, I didn’t notice the change in tone. [[Back |tadm02.14.06]] [[Next |tadm02.15.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- I used the apartment as a base of operations to try and track her down. It was a welcome retreat from my office that was frozen in the 1960s. But my search was also fruitless. My only real set of contacts was her office, and nobody knew where she was, since she abruptly quit. So, I passed the time reading her diaries. It all led back to the jewelry box. I’ve heard stories of people being trapped inside these contraptions with other creatures. Ones that don’t share well and make for a terrible existence. There was no telling what else may be imprisoned with her. The only way to know was to open it, and I was not going to be the one to set loose whatever was inside. I don’t think she would be in the mood to grant wishes, and that’s assuming she’s in there at all. I could open the thing and get sucked in myself. Eventually, Henry got tired of paying the rent, and the super got tired of finding me there when he was trying to show the place to new tenants. As the super was removing my personal effects that I had moved in, I exchanged some quick texts with Henry explaining I had taken my work as far as I could. My thoughts on the case were inconclusive, and despite that fact, he needed to pay his bill for my services. I mentioned I would swing by their home in the evening to drop off the journals and the jewelry box. He said he might not be there, but I could leave it with the kids. I mentioned that the jewelry box was dangerous. Speaking in layman’s terms, I told him it was “possessed.” “Oh God, what should I do?” “For starters, don’t open it.” I reassured him I’d seal it up in a separate container so it wouldn’t open accidentally. Then I called Tommy. [[Back |tadm02.15.01]] [[Next |tadm02.16.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XVI__ [continue] The first thing I learned about Tommy is that he didn’t like strangers using that name. Or as he put it to me over the phone: “That name is reserved for family.” Starting off on the wrong foot made it a hard sell to get him to meet me. I would be giving myself too much credit to say I was able to persuade him with my charming personality. No, it was the fact that I said I needed him to do a favor for Mage. He insisted on a public place and then suggested a bar in the early afternoon. I’m not much of a drinker, preferring to spend my money on the finer things in life like second-hand books, but I was lost on the point of meeting in a nearly empty establishment. I entered Skipper’s, a dive bar that had the appeal of a dimly lit closet. There were two people seated at the bar who had no intention of sharing anything other than oxygen, while all but one of the five tables were empty. That was occupied by a middle-aged man wearing a sweater-vest over a collared shirt. “Thomas?” I asked, still standing. “Yes,” he said as he rose awkwardly and extended an unsteady hand. “Come here often?” “First time, actually,” he said as he sat back down. “Can I buy you a drink?” I offered. “Sorry, I don’t drink.” [[Back |tadm02.15.02]] [[Next |tadm02.16.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- I made no effort to hide the suspicions in my stare as I pulled out a chair across the table from him. My coat stayed on, as I wasn’t planning on staying long. I remained silent, forcing him to break the tension. “So, you mentioned something about Mage?” His voice cracked, and he took a sip from the shakiest glass of water I’d ever seen. “Is there something you want to tell me first?” I asked, still staring at him. Not that he noticed—his gaze was everywhere but in my direction. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m wearing a wire.” I mirrored his more intimate posture and asked, “Why?” He leaned back and pulled out a personal recording device, complete with a blinking red light. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I thought you might be connected to her disappearance.” “Anyone listening on the other end of that thing?” “No, the police weren’t going to help me. They said Henry got a Dear John letter, and there was nothing they could do. Besides, they said Henry hired you as a PI.” I was sure Henry did not elaborate on what the letters PI stood for. A common habit among my clientele. “Well, the thing about the letter is partially right. But I don’t think she wrote it, and I think you know who did.” [[Back |tadm02.16.01]] [[Next |tadm02.16.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- His eyes popped. “The other one.” I nodded. Thomas was a delicate individual, and this was a delicate task. God, I wished someone else could have this conversation with him. He knew there was something weird going on, and he was probably trying to sort out if it was paranormal or extraterrestrial. Telling him the truth in his state of mind could lead to a mental breakdown. “Thomas, I… well, Mage… like I said over the phone, needs you to do a favor.” He steeled himself as if I were about to charge him with a holy quest. Which was absurd, since this man clearly had a time he needed to be home by. “I’m ready,” he said. It took everything within me not to roll my eyes, and I failed. “Look, I just… Mage needs… you to hold on to something.” I pulled out a package the size of a small shoe from the inside pocket of my jacket. Underneath the multiple layers of transparent packaging tape, written in large black letters were the words “DO NOT OPEN UNDER PENALTY OF LAW.” “What law?” he asked. “There isn’t one. I was originally going to write under penalty of death, but it sounded over-the-top.” I lied. I actually had run out of space. “Well, law isn’t any better.” [[Back |tadm02.16.02]] [[Next |tadm02.16.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “Look, I don’t have all day.” In truth I really didn’t have anything going on, but I needed to drive home my point. “If I leave this with you, are you going to open it?” “Depends on what’s inside.” “Really?!” “What do you want me to say? I don’t do this stuff on a regular basis. Strangers don’t just call me up and ask me to hold on to something for a friend.” I wasn’t a fan of leaving someone in the dark on these matters, but the less he knew the better. Knowing usually leads to asking questions, and if he was going to hold on to the jewelry box, the last thing he should be doing was trying to learn more about the paranormal. Plus, the red light on the recording device was still blinking. Telling the truth could get me committed. I put my hand on the package. “Then, I guess I’ll find someone else.” “No.” He grabbed my hand. “If it will help Mage, I won’t open it.” “And you won’t tell anyone?” “No one.” “Henry included.” He jerked his head a bit. “I don’t think I’ll be talking with him any time soon.” He released his grip from my wrist, and I slid the package over to him. “You’ve spoken to him?” I asked. [[Back |tadm02.16.03]] [[Next |tadm02.16.05]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- “Tried to. The man disgusts me. Wasn’t always that way, but he knows something is up. Something weird. I think he might be in on it.” In the kindest light, Henry was struggling with his new reality. I don’t think he was in on anything, but he was unpredictable. Which is why I contacted Tommy. I couldn’t give Henry the jewelry box, not without understanding the consequences of its power. “Thomas, that’s fine that you are uncomfortable around him so long as he doesn’t learn you have this package. Mage’s life depends on it.” He nodded and accepted the package. I stood up as he asked, “When is she… I mean you… going to ask for it back?” “I don’t know, I’m off the case.” “But I could hire you?” The idea had crossed my mind. I could bill him for years, and he would pay. It would do wonders for my life. But he’d become impatient at some point. Suspect a con and start asking questions. Maybe even open the package. “I’m not giving up, but I have other clients.” I considered that a half-truth. I wasn’t giving up, but I needed to find new clients. “I understand,” he said. I doubt he did, but I was confident enough that he wouldn’t make trouble. [[Back |tadm02.16.04]] [[Next |tadm02.17.01]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- [align center] __XVII__ [continue] On my way to Henry’s house, I kept doubting that I had given Tommy the wrong box, and that I was about to hand over the real jewelry box to Henry. As with the one I had provided to Tommy, I placed the decoy in a small shipping box and overdid the tape. I considered writing a similar message, but I figured that for Henry and his kids, no warning was the best defense. Just a lot of tape to get through. Hardly worth the effort. Their place was in the quietest part of an unimaginative suburb. People out here must have liked staying in their houses, because they sure as hell didn’t like going out. I parked my old Mercedes Benz in their driveway. I hoped that my over-possessive mechanic would appreciate that I found the car a nice change of pace from the city street it usually sits on. Far less likely to get into a fender bender out here than on the narrow streets of New Carissimi. With my hands full of a stack of journals and a ridiculously taped box, I pressed the doorbell of the house. Instead of a ring, it chimed an obnoxious tune. One of the kids answered. She was the older of the two. About seven or eight. “Mr. Krelig?” “That’s me. Your father said I could leave these items with you if he wasn’t home.” A woman called from inside the house. “Is that Daddy’s friend?” She appeared in the front hallway from behind the child. Smiling, she said, “Oh hi, my name is Mage.” [[Back |tadm02.16.05]] [[Next |tadm02.17.02]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- Even after all I’ve seen, I still get paralyzed with fear when I see something unnatural. I stood on their front step motionless without acknowledging her greeting. She put her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Thank you for returning my things.” This wasn’t Mage. She was too young, stood up straight, and walked with grace. “No problem,” I said, handing over the journals. I wanted to ask when she got back. “Is that my jewelry box in the package?” I was still holding it. I could have died peacefully if the world had ended at that moment. But now I had a decision to make. Should I give it to her, or say that it’s something else? But then why would I have brought it to the door? I flavored my response with a bit of surprise, “Oh, I almost forgot,” and handed the decoy over to the Gwenhwyfach without a clue of what she intended to do with it. “Why is it wrapped like this?” “Figured there was something valuable inside.” She held it up to her ear and shook it. My heart sank. Was there something she could hear inside if she shook it hard enough? Or maybe she was imagining the trauma she was inflicting on her prisoner. “Sounds like everything is in there. You didn’t open it, did you?” “No ma’am, I’m no fool. I mean, you never open a woman’s jewelry box.” [[Back |tadm02.17.01]] [[Next |tadm02.17.03]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- She gave me a look. Not threatening, but she was calculating something unpleasant. If I had been trying to keep my knowledge of what was in the box a secret, I had failed. And why should it be a secret? I had read the journals and just gave them back to her. She said, “I see we are of like mind.” “I guess we are.” I could not get out of there fast enough. “Do you play chess?” “Play, yes. Win, no.” Leave now. “Interesting. It’s an open game. Both you and your opponent have the same information, just a different perspective. That’s how people can ‘see ahead,’ there are only so many good moves to pick from and sometimes only one best move.” What was she trying to tell me? She left me wondering, because the next thing she did was thank me and close the door. I should not have handed over the box. All the way back to my office, I told myself that over and over. I was so focused on that particular regret that another part of my brain decoded her whole bit about chess. Or at least, I thought what hit me was a very good chance of her intended meaning. The Gwenhwyfach thought like Mage, but didn’t have her memories. It made it easy to predict Mage’s moves, and at some point she had figured out that Mage was going to kill her. Maybe she knew from the beginning. Self-preservation kicked in. And she knew there was something that Mage wouldn’t do to gain the upper hand. Mage learned magic on her own, but the Gwenhwyfach sought out a teacher. One who enjoyed a game of chess, even when there wasn’t a board. [[Back |tadm02.17.02]] [[Next |tadm02.17.04]]

config.header.center : "" config.header.left : "[[The Truth About Dark Magic|https://krelig.com]]" config.header.right : "[[False Mage|tadm02]]" config.footer.left : "Copyright 2022 Viktor Krelig" -- The drive back to my office was silent after that realization. I bet Mage offered the Gwenhwyfach some hope at freedom, and when she opened the box, it pulled in Mage just as the fortune-teller had designed it to. He hadn’t been playing both sides as Mage originally thought. He had only ever played on the side of the impostor. Even if Mage’s offer of freedom had been made in good faith, I don’t think the Gwenhwyfach would have accepted. She didn’t want freedom. She wanted the same thing that Mage had always wanted. Family. --Viktor Krelig [[Back |tadm02.17.02]] [[Next: The Undying Debt->https://krelig.com/the_undying_debt.html]]