Chapter 12
Friday morning, one week since Eddie moved in.
He was out for a morning run and Hakeem had just awoken himself.
Jackson could hear him in the kitchen. The elf is roused further out of sleep by the sweet smell of cinnamon and butter.
Jackson slips out of bed and heads to his bedroom door.
He rubs his eyes and cracks the door open, the smell wafting in.
It’s a warm caress urging Jackson to inhale deeply, the aroma filling his body and waking him up further.
He peers down into the kitchen to find Hakeem moving his hips in front of the stove.
“You put a little butter here, melt it up real good. You take your bread then you dip, soak, flip it up. You toss it in the pan and fry till golden brown. And that’s how you get. French. Toast!”
Hakeem is singing softly to himself, soaking brioche bread slices from a package on the counter in a mixture of eggs, milk, sugar and cinnamon. He wiggles his hips as he fries up the tasty confection. He doesn’t notice Jackson take a seat on the island behind him.
When was the last time Jackson found joy in making breakfast, so much so that he wiggled his butt?
He wasn’t sure he ever did. He often lived off take out and ready meals when away from home.
Hakeem wears a loose shirt that clings to his shoulder and sweatpants that hang slightly off his hips.
He watches Hakeem do his little dance, an amused grin working its way onto his face.
Hakeem turns around to put the plate of freshly prepared french toast on the island, then jumps about half a foot into the air when he sees Jackson. The plate with breakfast on it flying out of his hand as a yelp escapes him.
Jackson shoots his hand out, shadows extending from his grasp.
The tendrils grab the plate, catching the french toast mid air, placing it carefully on the island.
“Sorry sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.
I didn’t want to interrupt when you were clearly in the zone.
” Jackson holds his hands up in front of him, chuckling softly at the reaction he caused in Hakeem.
Hakeem’s face is flushed, either from shock or embarrassment. He’s breathing a little hard, one hand clenched over the gold necklace around his neck. “I’m fine, you just surprised me. Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Hakeem settles his breathing, dropping his shoulder, hands falling to his side. “Good morning, Jackson. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“It wasn’t that catchy tune, but your cooking definitely caught my attention. That smells amazing.” Jackson points to the plate of french toast in front of him.
“Would you like some? I have some leftover batter.”
“You sure? I wouldn’t want to keep you from breakfast.”
Hakeem waves him off and goes to make some more french toast. “Food is better enjoyed with company. Wait a bit, I’ll get some more ready.”
Eddie returns from his run having worked up a little sweat, humming to the tune playing through his earbuds. Sounds like “APT”, if the boys took a guess. “Hmm hm hmmm.” He enters the apartment and is welcomed by an alluring aroma. “Woah, that smells so good. What ya making?”
Hakeem and Jackson turn to the door to greet Eddie. “Good morning, I’m making french toast. Would you like a plate?”
Jackson inhales the cozy aroma of Hakeem’s cooking. “If it tastes as good as it smells I think you should, Edmund. Hakeem seems to be a man of many talents.”
Hakeem smiles at that, filling his cheeks and turns his attention back to the sizzling pan in front of him. Eddie settles in next to Jackson, who whispers about how Eddie missed the pre-breakfast show.
“What show?” Hakeem shoots Jackson a glare, which earns a laugh out of him. Eddie smiles to himself, relishing the lively atmosphere.
“Anything I can do to help?”
Hakeem gestures to the coffee machine with a spatula. “Can you get the coffee and tea brewed? Jackson, could you get the plates and cutlery?” The boys set up for breakfast together.
* * *
After breakfast, Eddie and Jackson lean back in their seats, bellies full. Jackson stretches out and sighs contentedly. “Hakeem, if you keep cooking like that then I’ll keep you stocked in ingredients.”
Eddie nods in agreement. “Hell, I’d pay you to be a private chef for the apartment, plus it was nice to eat all together. I miss doing that with my family. Does it make the food taste better or is that just your skills?” Eddie smirks at Hakeem with that last comment.
Hakeem laughs into his cup of tea, he knew what Eddie meant.
He misses eating together with others like this too, his schedule making it hard to even have meals with Charlie when they lived together.
“You’re both too kind. But I know what you mean, Eddie.
I will gladly cook for us when I can if you two cover the grocery bill.
Use that rich kid privilege to keep us eating good. ”
Eddie and Jackson both lean forward and exclaim their agreement in unison. “Deal!”
The boys share a laugh as they clean up.
* * *
Hakeem arranges various supplies on the cleared island. A wand, a book, a wooden doll, and some beakers of water. He preps all he needs for lessons with Jackson, a week in the making. Eddie settles on the couch and asks if he can observe from there.
“Sure thing, but I can’t promise it’ll be interesting to watch.”
Eddie gets comfy and looks over to where Hakeem had set up shop. “I’ve seen you work at the cafe, if your magic lessons are anything like that then consider my interest piqued.”
A slight blush creeps up Hakeem’s cheeks, he didn’t think his work was anything to be impressed over.
Jackson’s chin rests in his palm, arm propped onto the island.
He examines the material in front of him whilst tapping his fingers on the granite in a steady rhythm.
He asked Hakeem for lessons and it seems they are truly starting with the basics.
“Really starting small aren’t we? Am I that much of a lost cause? ”
Hakeem adjusts his glasses and pulls out a clipboard, going full teacher mode.
“You say your magic doesn’t listen to you and then proceeds to act out.
I’ve seen it lash out then respond to me rather than you.
For the sake of both of our understanding we are going to do this right.
Starting from the bottom and working our way up to more complex spells, including incantations. ”
Jackson shrugs, figuring if anyone could make sense of his magic it would be Hakeem. A perfect mana match that also knew more than he did about the bases of magic than Jackson had bothered to learn in nearly a century. This was his best bet at control he has encountered in a lifetime.
Hakeem picks up a wand and the tip flares to life, a small spark of silver. He points it to Jackson, staring down at him from where he stands behind the island. “Question one: What are the three sources of magic we as magic users can draw from?”
Jackson considers the question, chin in his hands. He blows out a breath before answering. “Uuuuuh fae, arcane, and…holy magic?”
Eddie’s hand shoots up. “Can I ask a question?”
Hakeem and Jackson both look over at the man on the couch. Hakeem offers a wide smile. “Of course, ask away, Eddie.”
“I thought all magic came from the same source.”
Jackson’s eyebrow quirks up. “Wait, did I get that super wrong then? I’ll never hear the end of it if I get something that simple wrong after ninety nine years.” Jackson can hear his mother’s remarks now.
Hakeem regards them both with a knowing smile. “Actually, you are both right in a sense. Jackson you’re about seventy-five percent correct. Now, allow me to elaborate.”
Hakeem borrows some magic from Jackson, waving his wand, and says a spell under his breath in an ancient tongue.
A white board is conjured between the island and the couch.
He begins to write on the white board an explanation of the magic of the realms. “We as magic users can draw from three sources of magic. Fae magic that powers elemental and druidic magic. Arcane magic, said to come from the spark of human ingenuity, man made spells and runes. Born from the magic that dwells deep in our souls. It’s where we get the term for magical humans, arcanists.
Then we have divine magic, not holy. Divine magic is said to be granted in the forms of blessed or cursed magic, two sides of the same coin bestowed upon us by the gods or demons.
This type of magic is used by members of the clergy and… infamously by…cultists.”
Hakeem’s eyes lose their shine for a moment, before he shakes himself out of the stupor, clearing his throat before continuing.
Jackson and Eddie exchange an uneasy glance.
“It’s where healing spells and curses originate from, the rarest form of magic due to its scarcity. Cultists form pacts with demons for their powers while clergy devote their lives to worship to gain their blessings.
“Now, here is where many academics argue. Where do these three sources we draw our power from, come from?” Hakeem points his wand between Jackson and Eddie, neither one has an answer so they both shrug.
“The ‘origin spark’ has been the subject of debate for centuries within the academic world. The origin of all magic in existence, predating the three main sources. Does it exist? Does it still exist? Is there an ancient god-like deity that presides over all magic? There is no definite answer. But all we do know is that magic has existed amongst all realms we know of. It lives in the song of birds on the wind, in the force of tectonic plates that move the very earth. It appears as hope in one’s darkest hour, as bloodlust in their cruelest moments.
Ingenuity and creativity, the passion of the human soul.
All these things have been accredited to the magic that fills our worlds.
Once we understand that, once we allow ourselves to feel it flow inside and around us, only then can we start to understand magic and craft spells. ”