Chapter 13
Another two weeks pass in a blur of classes, shifts at work, mounds of paperwork and a couple more practice runs at spells.
Hakeem had tasked Jackson with practicing the same simple spells from the weeks prior.
Simple hand gestures, one word commands, until he could produce the same results over multiple consecutive attempts.
Hakeem told him the best way to improve was to practice the basics beyond the point of tedious redundancy.
When the basics were as close to mastered as they could, only then would Hakeem coach Jackson through more simple incantation spells.
Years of tutors and failures aside, whatever Hakeem was doing with Jackson seemed to be working.
Jackson enjoyed the days in which Eddie would join him for practice.
They both came from such prominent families yet struggled in such simple aspects of magic, in a world filled with it.
Hakeem never shamed either of them for the pace at which they learned or improved.
As stern as he was in the newly dubbed ‘Teacher Mode’, he was equally as patient.
Especially considering the mishap that ended with him and Eddie stuck to the ceiling wrapped in conjured vines. A story he hopes to never bring up again. (Note: Do Not touch a mage’s grimoire without proper supervision.)
Eddie found the whole scenario hilarious, Jackson did not. Well…maybe a little.
As another Friday comes to an end Jackson is roused from his focus on the papers in front of him by five quick knocks on his office door.
He was finishing work at the downtown office when Wendy appeared at his office’s threshold, holding a rather large ornate box.
“Sorry to intrude, Jackson, this came for you from the office of Mrs. Lee’s attorney. ”
Wendy makes her way over with the box and gingerly places it on Jackson’s desk.
It’s roughly the size of a milk crate, made of dark wood with a glossy finish.
Carvings of constellations finished in a shiny silver coat decorate the box on all sides.
It has no lock or latch, but the aura of a protection charm radiates around it.
Jackson stands from his chair and examines the box more closely.
“Thank you, Wendy, from Brenda’s attorney’s office you say? Anything else come with it?”
Wendy produces a small white envelope, sealed with red wax.
Jackson recognizes the stamp on the crest, a flower with five thin pointed petals, a star that bloomed from the earth.
Brenda’s favorite. Wendy hands the envelope to Jackson who takes it with a limp hand and a sigh, he can’t imagine what other surprise his old friend had planned from beyond the grave.
“So, care to join me in uncovering this mystery in my office or do you prefer to snoop from outside my door.” He goes to open the letter as he addresses Wendy, who is trying and failing to hide her unbound curiosity.
Wendy scoffs in mock offense, “How very dare you, sir! I am a professional in this office.” She says, as she takes her place by his shoulder, looking to catch a glimpse of what the letter entails.
Jackson can’t help the roll of his eyes, the slightest smirk on his face, as he breaks open the wax seal and reads the enclosed letter aloud.
“Dearest Jackie,
If you’re reading this it means I have passed from this world to the next and that you found good people to spend the next stretch of your life with. Or, you were a nosy little shit and found this letter way before it’s time. In that case put this back or so help me I will rat you out to Eloise.”
Wendy cackles at the description the letter paints in her mind, bending over clutching her sides. Jackson glares down at her, grumbling at the reaction. “Do you need a moment, Ms. Aasifa?”
“No, no, Mr. Nocturne, please do go on.” Jackson shakes his head and scoffs. He continues to read the letter hoping the insults were over.
“In all seriousness, I hope the people you chose treat you well and do you good, the thought of you alone always broke my heart. I need you to remember, you were one of my closest friends. I love you in this life and the next. Within the box are two things that will hopefully shine some light on the odd terms of my will. One is a grimoire, old and rare. It contains spells and rituals I used in my fortune telling along with others that I hope serve their purpose. Astromancy is a rare and niche school of magic, it won’t do you any good, but I know you’ll figure out exactly what to do with it.
The other is my wand, you may keep it for sentimental reasons or find use for it.
Follow your heart, Jackie. I can only hope the stars have aligned as I have predicted and you are exactly where you need to be. May you find happiness in your life.
Love always,
Brenda Lee.”
Jackson’s voice cracks ever so slightly at the last line, his eyes glossing.
He feels a warmth envelope him, Wendy wrapping her arms around him in a kind embrace.
He wipes his eyes, refusing to let tears spill and sniffs to clear his mind.
“Wendy, this is highly inappropriate workplace conduct. As flattered as I am, I’m afraid I cannot accept your charms.” He says jokingly, which only causes Wendy’s grip to tighten.
Her face is buried into his side and all he hears is a disapproving grunt. Jackson pats her gently on her head, grateful for her compassion. “I’m fine, Wendy, just a little sentimental.”
Wendy releases him from her hold, righting herself and wiping her own eyes with the back of her hand. “Is there anything else I can get you, Jackson?”
Smiling at her softly, Jackson shakes his head. “No, thank you though. I will finish up here and hand my father the papers he requested. Then I’ll be off.” Wendy gives a small nod before excusing herself from Jackson’s office.
Jackson places his hand near the box and feels the fade of the protection charm, as though it was waiting for him.
He opens the box and finds a small case made for a wand and an old grimoire, lying on velvet lining.
Its pages worn on the edges, the binding frayed and fading in places.
He recognizes the power radiating off it.
Unlike the grimoire Hakeem had used to teach him and Eddie, this tome held power that surely needed more than a flick of the wrist and wave of a wand.
He recalls the decades he spent with Brenda, all the times she would be flipping through the grimoire’s pages, even adding her own notes. The tome was a part of her as was her own magic.
He shifts his attention to the wand case, made of the same wood of the larger box and adorned with similar carvings.
He carefully picks it up and slides the top off, placing it back in the larger box.
The wand lay in the same red velvet that the grimoire sits on.
It’s made of twisted dark cedar and clear quartz.
The grip is of old leather, indents of Brenda’s fingers still evident in the material.
He goes to caress the wand, pulling his hand back as memories of similar conduits breaking and rotting in his hand in recent years.
He won’t risk losing this piece of his friend to his cruel touch.
He places the wand back into its case, returning it to the large box and closing the lid.
Jackson finishes his work and carries the papers to his father’s office.
Joseph Underbush’s office is easily four times larger than Jackson’s, extravagant being the only appropriate word to describe it.
Two long leather couches on either side, floor to ceiling windows lining the back.
A large desk of black marble and glass, every surface filled with either awards or gifts from clients and friends.
Bottles of expensive spirits, sports memorabilia and trophies he earned during his youth filled the space. It made it his own.
On Joseph’s desk are pictures of Jackson during his childhood; his signature scowl ever present on chubby baby cheeks, and a painting of Annabella.
Modern magic and technologies meant she showed up in film, Joseph just felt his beloved was captured more elegantly on canvas, in the delicate stroke of brushes.
Joseph sits behind his desk, clacking away at his computer at whatever work floated his way.
The elven man wears a fine tailored black suit and tie combination, along with an uncharacteristically cold expression.
Jackson knocks on the door twice to grab his father’s attention.
“Enter,” replies Joseph before looking up, expression brightening the moment he lays eyes upon his son.
“Jackie! How are ya, my boy? I swear even working in the same building I hardly get to see you.” Joseph stands and makes his way around his desk towards Jackson in a couple long strides, arms spread wide.
Jackson accepts the hug, his father giving him a squeeze before patting his back as he releases the hug. “We keep busy, don’t we, father?” The corner of Jackson’s lips curl up as he hands his father the paperwork he requested.
Joseph gives them a quick scan before giving a satisfied nod. With a snap of his fingers the papers are packed into a manila envelope and fly out an open window. Joseph is adept with wind magic. Jackson wondered if that’s part of the reason he and Wendy got along so well.
“If that’s all I should head out, me and the guys need to do a grocery run and it’s easier when I drive.” Jackson jerks his thumb to the door behind him, as he begins walking backwards slowly. “I’ll see you later, father.”
Before Jackson could move another step Joseph laces his arm through the crook of Jackson’s arm and pulls him to one of the couches. “Spare your old man a second of your time. Come sit for a spell, catch up, set the world to right.”
“Alright alright, just stop tugging.” Jackson can’t help but giggle at his father’s enthusiasm.