43. Torin
43
TORIN
“The thing about chaos magick,” Ivy’s Aunt Cathy says, perching on the edge of her desk in The Resistance’s hidden library as I spin towards the sound of her voice, “is that it doesn’t follow rules like other types of power. It exists in the spaces between. Between order and disorder, between what’s possible and what isn’t. Rather like you.”
“Did you bring me here?” I ask accusingly.
“Yep. Get over it. Sit down, kiddo. There’s a lot you need to know.”
I sit, surrounded by ancient texts and artefacts I can feel humming with power. The room seems alive with it, centuries of accumulated magickal knowledge pressing against my heightened senses. Being both vampire and mage means I can feel every pulse of energy, every whisper of power.
“What do you mean?” I ask, though part of me already knows.
She smiles, reminding me so much of Ivy it hurts. “You’re a contradiction, Torin. Vampire and mage. It is very rare in the grand scheme of things, even more so now. Two types of power that shouldn’t coexist, yet in you, they do. That makes you uniquely suited to understand chaos magick.”
“I know lots of vampire mages,” I argue. “Whole covens of them.”
She smiles at me like I’m dumb. I kind of love that about her. She doesn’t bullshit. “No, what you know are vampires who used to be mages, who have traces of their magick lingering in their blood, but it fades, and they fake it with potions and spells. Your magick is in your soul, Torin. There aren’t many like you, a handful. Your new Headmaster at MistHallow is one of them. A very old and powerful one. You will learn a lot from him.”
Rising, she moves to a shelf as I absorb the ‘faking it’ part. How interesting and typically vampire to pretend to be something you aren’t.
Cathy pulls down an old leather-bound book. The cover bears no title, just a complex symbol that shifts and changes as I look at it. “This was my first grimoire. All of the rules I’d been taught about power were more like guidelines when it comes to chaos magick. Ivy has surpassed all of this now, but you, you need to learn.”
She sets the book before me, and the moment my fingers touch it, both my vampire and mage senses explode. Power races through my veins, raw and untamed. Images flash through my mind of possibilities, probabilities, paths not taken.
“Easy,” Cathy steadies me with a hand on my shoulder. “Let it flow. Don’t try to control it.”
“It’s different,” I croak. “Not like normal magick. Not like vampire power either.”
“Because it’s neither and both,” she explains. “What we know about chaos magick is that it is about potential. About seeing the cracks in reality and wedging them open. About understanding that nothing is fixed, everything is fluid. Chaos magick isn’t about creating or destroying. It’s about rearranging what’s already there. Your vampire power and mage ability aren’t just coexisting now, they’re creating something new. A third type of power, born from the chaos of their intersection.”
“Is that normal?”
She laughs. “Nothing about any of you is normal. You, Ivy, Bram, Tate - you’re all breaking rules that have stood for millennia. That’s why you’re perfect for this change.”
She gestures for me to stand. “Enough theory. Let’s see what you can do. Reach for both powers at once: vampire and mage. But this time, don’t try to balance them. Let them crash together.”
I do as she says, calling up vampire strength and speed while simultaneously reaching for mage power. Usually, I keep them carefully separated, using one or the other. This time, I let them collide.
The result is explosive. Energy crackles around me with that pink hue that I’ve come to know means chaos has been unleashed. My senses expand exponentially. I can feel every particle of magick in the room, every possibility hanging in the air.
“Good,” Cathy nods. “Now reach for the spaces between. The gaps in reality where things shift.”
Following her guidance, I extend my awareness. The world seems to fracture into infinite possibilities, every potential outcome, every might-have-been. Through my vampire senses, I can smell the age of the books, the residue of centuries of magick. Through mage sight, I see the patterns of power woven through the room.
But there’s something else now. A new way of seeing that combines both and transcends them. The gaps Cathy mentioned become visible as places where reality is thin, where probability bends.
“Reach for it with the new power that’s uniquely yours.”
I extend my hand, letting the hybrid energy flow. The gap widens, reality bending around my fingers. Through it, I catch glimpses of other possibilities, versions of this room in different times, different realities.
“Now, choose one,” she instructs. “Make it real.”
I focus on one possibility. A version of the room where ancient texts hover in the air, their knowledge readily accessible. With a twist of my new power, I pull that reality into this one.
Books rise from their shelves, pages fluttering open. Knowledge flows from them like water, visible as streams of light and shadow. I can read them all at once, my vampire speed and mage comprehension working together in a way they never have before.
“Remarkable,” Cathy breathes. “You’re not just combining powers, you’re creating a whole new way of working with reality.”
The effort hits me suddenly, and the books drop back to their shelves as my knees buckle. Cathy catches me, helping me back to my chair.
“That was...” I struggle to find words.
“That was just the beginning,” she says, eyes bright with excitement. “You’ve barely scratched the surface of what you can do.”
“The thing is,” Cathy says, “your power connects directly to what Ivy, Bram, and Tate can do. You’re the bridge.”
“The bridge?”
She nods. “Think about it. Bram works with shadow—the space between light and dark. Tate connects to nature’s patterns of growth and decay. Ivy walks the line between life and death. And you...” She gestures at the lingering pink energy around my hands. “You exist in all these in-between spaces at once. Vampire and mage. Living and undead. Order and chaos.”
“That’s why our powers work so well together. We’re all dealing with different aspects of the same thing.”
“Exactly. The boundaries between states of being. The places where reality bends.” She closes her grimoire. “You understand, yes?”
I stand, steadier now, feeling the new power settling into my bones. “Yes.”
Cathy nods. “You’re all pieces of the same puzzle. Go, now. They’re waiting. Just remember… don’t fight the chaos. Work with it. Like water finding its own level, power will flow where it needs to go.”
I head for the door, then pause. “Thank you. For helping me understand.”
“Thank you for taking care of my niece,” she replies softly. “The real work is just beginning.”
I make my way back across campus to where I left the others, needing the mundaneness of walking right now. I feel different somehow. More settled in my new nature, yet also more aware of its limitless possibilities. Near the ancient oak, I find the others waiting.
“Where did you go?” Ivy asks.
“I was with your aunt, learning some new tricks,” I say. It mingles naturally with Ivy’s life-death energy, Bram’s shadows, and Tate’s natural force.
“How is she? I should go and see her before we leave.”
“She’s good,” I say.
She smiles and gives me a nod. I look around and we all understand our own power better now, but more importantly, we understand how they all connect.
The sun sets over Thornfield, casting long shadows that seem to pulse with possibility. In the gathering dark, our combined power lights up the night like stars come to earth. Different colours, different energies, but all part of the same grand design.
We are the bridges between worlds, the guardians of boundaries, the agents of change itself.
And we’re finally ready to embrace it.