Sorcerer Stabber Orphen Fan Fiction ❯ Satin Blaze ❯ Two Steps Back ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

:: Satin Blaze ::

Sorcerous Stabber Orphen

Sequel to Velvet Flames

Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.

Rating: PG

Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, Majic+Orphen, eventual Orphen/Majic

Warnings: AU, shounen ai, angst

Notes: Eh heh. *sweatdrop* Finally found out Majic's father's real name. Fixed it. Oops. ^^;

And thanks to Chevira-san for helping with this! Wow, Kat-chan didn't have to muse for me once on this one. But she's helping very much with the upcoming SSO Christmas fic...

*innocent* Didn't I mention that? *smile* Hehe, keep an eye out for it... Sheer Orphen/Majic goodness, I can assure you... And extreme AU. And did I mention extremely Cleao-friendly? ^^;;




"So this is the mighty sorcerer, Orphen," said Majic's father some time later.

Once he'd gotten over the initial shock of the situation, Orphen had found it amusing. Majic had been so stunned that he'd dropped everything he'd been holding right on his foot. The mops weren't the cheap kind, so they were made of hard, heavy wood that had clearly hurt the boy.

Majic didn't find it amusing at all. At the moment he was sulking in a chair, his entire face bright red and his eyes fixed on the wooden floorboards as his ankle rested on one knee. He was using his right hand to massage the injured foot, all the while being extremely cautious not to look up, even while the others talked.

"My son spoke of you often," Bagup said calmly. "You were the role model sorcerer, it seems. Or perhaps that's just what he made it look like?" At that Majic blushed even harder and sunk low into the chair.

Orphen smirked faintly, sipping at his soda. "Well, I guess I'm pretty good," he replied as though he were used to it-- Which, in fact, he was after four years. Over time he'd started to use his own kind of magic, fine-tuning it until it was near perfection. The Tower of Fangs' magic was lost to him now... Not that it was such a big loss.

"You don't take after your father much, do you?" the young sorcerer asked of the teenage boy. Majic mumbled something unintelligible, but it was his father that directly answered Orphen's question.

"He takes after his mother, obviously," Bagup said.

"I see." Orphen's hand flickered up to the heavy pendant hanging from his neck, thinking of how Azari had, at times, been like a mother to him. He remembered Hartia telling him Majic's mother had died when he was four. Did Majic remember her at all? Was she painful to think about, as it pained him to think of Azari?

"He gets his magical heritage from her as well." This time both Orphen and Majic looking up, the former surprised and the latter pale. It wasn't often sorcerers intermarried with the non-magical kind. Usually the two were fighting, the non-magical terrified of the sorcerers' powers and the sorcerers disgusted by their discrimination.

But then, it wasn't as though it were entirely because of humans. There were several "bad" sorcerers, the kind that liked to use their power to their advantage. Several had tried to take over towns, a few even countries, but all were shot down by both the non-magical and "good" sorcerers. However, because of the few rebellious black magic practicers (all sorcerers practiced black magic but not all abused the privilege; there was a big difference) all sorcerers had been given a bad name.

This was why humans and sorcerers stood where they did today.

"You're not a sorcerer?" Orphen questioned mildly.

Bagup Lyn smiled thinly. "Not at all. But don't think that means I mind them. My wife proved that there were very kindhearted sorcerers out there."

Ah, of only more humans shared such common sense. "I see," Orphen repeated, glancing over at Majic. The teenager was no longer embarrassed or frightened, but he did look rather thoughtful. He was back to staring at the floor, but this time without intent. He didn't seem to notice his father and former classmate watching him.

"Ah... Father," he finally said. "Tomorrow... You know... May I go?" he asked, dancing around the subject directly as though he didn't want Orphen to know about it, which only made the older man slightly more curious. But even as he considered prying into the boy's business, he reminded himself that he had business tomorrow. He had to go to the Everlasting mansion and see if the family knew anything about the sword.

"Of course," was the almost soft response. "After your chores are finished."

"Yes, sir." Majic stood, testing his foot gingerly before deciding it wasn't hurt too badly. "Um... I'm going to finish cleaning upstairs." His walk was rather hurried, like he was resisting the urge to run. Huh. Orphen always knew the boy was strange.

Something felt out of place, though. Orphen frowned faintly, trying to pinpoint the strange feeling that something was amiss. Then suddenly he knew...

"Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin!" The two trolls that had been trying to sneak out the front door received a smart blast, not big enough to do damage to any nearby furniture but enough to stop them in their tracks. "You two," he said in annoyance, jerking a thumb at the mops and pails Majic had dropped earlier. "Get cleaning-- Or I'll never let you live it down!"



Never had Majic felt such a need to hit his head against the wall. Hard. Repeatedly.

The blonde boy ran his fingers through fine blonde hair, sighing heavily. That had been one of the most tense moments he could recall in his entire life-- And living at the Tower of Fangs had ALWAYS been tense.

So it seemed he'd really left. He really had abandoned the Tower, his friends, his name, and his past. In a way it was sad, but he had seemed just fine without it all... Was he really coping? Had he already helped Azari, and if so, where was she? Why wasn't he with her? He HAD loved her... Right?

Majic shook his head to shake off the sinking feeling in his stomach. 'No, no, no,' he mentally scolded himself. 'You're not nine years old anymore. You're OVER all that. Orphen-sama... Orphen-SAN is probably just passing by. Then he can be gone before Father finds out that... I was...'

He sighed again, shaking his head furiously before opening a hallway closet and taking out a rag. He could finish dusting Orphen's room quickly and then run back to his own before he was noticed.

The room used to belong to his mother and father, actually. But after Marissa had died, Bagup had moved his belongings to a smaller room, opening the larger one for the customers. Majic resented him for it at times; sometimes he used to just stand in the middle of the room and close his eyes, the sights, scents and feels of the old room and his mother returned. Touching the warm blanket, he could feel and see nothing but the handmade quilt his mother had stitched herself. She had been a master in the home arts; sewing, cooking, cleaning, everything. A few of these Majic had inherited himself. He could make a decent meal from scratch, though he was far from a culinary chef. He could mend tears in clothes. He still hadn't gotten the hang of hiding the stitches, but at least the fabric would always hold a good few days, sometimes weeks longer.

And he could clean. But that, of course, anyone could do. His useful eye for catching a spot of dust missed was more from the past few years living here with his father, growing up to learn the ways of a successful tavern owner.

However, in the back of Majic's mind, he knew that this was far from where he wanted to settle. He wanted to go out into the world and make good use of himself-- With magic.

He smiled faintly. It was a dream long lost since the day he had been expelled from the Tower of Fangs. He simply couldn't conjure the spells the Tower required. Something, he reasoned, was blocking his mind from doing it. He wasn't sure what, but he did know it interfered horribly with his studies at the Tower. That had been one of many reasons Flameheart had expelled him, and to those concerned at the Tower, it had been the most important.

Of course, Flameheart had disliked him from the start anyway. Apparently, he had been "too weak looking" and "too innocent." Oh, and he couldn't forget that he had hero-worshiped one of Childman's students, Krylancelo. That was akin to sinning in Flameheart's eyes.

"Am I interrupting?"

Jolted by the new voice, Majic's head swung up, his round blue eyes meeting directly with slanted amber. He could feel heat rising up his neck and to his face, but when as he was fighting it he said, "No, no! Sorry, I was just thinking. Ah... Good night, Orphen-sa--n," he said hastily, trying to make his way around the young man and slip out before any opportunities to question him arose.

Lazily, almost as though he were interpreting Majic's moves, Orphen rested a hand on the door frame, a lazy smile touching his lips. The young boy nervously wondered if he'd caught the slip of honorary. "Actually, I wanted to ask a few questions before either of us turn in."

Seeing no way to escape, Majic reluctantly accepted his fate, though he didn't do so before taking a few good paces back and diverting his eyes elsewhere. "Um... Okay."
"Relax. I was mostly just wondering where the Everlasting manor was."

Majic let out a long, slow breath, wanting to sag against the wall in relief. "Oh, easy... Just go left when you step outside the tavern, walk down the road until you read the g-graveyard, and you'll see it not too far away," he said, only stammering once.

Sienna-coloured eyes narrowed slightly. Majic thought that Orphen was a lot more intimidating now than he ever had been at the Tower of Fangs, minus the time he had nearly attacked the boy while in a strange dreamlike state. It wasn't just that he was older, taller, but there was a cold glint in his eyes that simply hadn't been there before.

"Hm. Would you mind taking me there tomorrow, then?"

Majic stiffened, hand clutching the rag in his hand until his knuckles were white. "Why?" he barely managed to whisper. He couldn't keep up the relaxed act for long; he just wasn't capable of hiding his emotions for long. He was even worse when it came to lying.

"You're going there tomorrow anyway, aren't you?"

Majic shook his head. "To the mansion? No, I've never--"

Orphen scowled. "Not the mansion, you dolt. The cemetery. You're going, aren't you?"

The blonde boy bit his lower lip, inwardly screaming. How had he found out? He couldn't be THAT easy to read, could he?! "Good night, Orphen-san," was all he could manage to say before shoving the young man's arm away from the door frame so he could run past him easily. The spiky-haired young man made no move to stop him, nor did he resist against the push. And, to Majic's great relief, he simply walked inside the room and closed the door behind him.

Majic entered his room, tossing the rag carelessly to the ground. He could wash it tomorrow; now he was too upset.

'Why? After all these years, why did he have to show up in Totokanta NOW?' he thought, sitting on the edge of his bed and unlacing his leather boots. 'Why did he have to show up at all?'

It wasn't that he hated Orphen; that wasn't it at all! It was just that he'd simply been able to push the sorcerer into the back of his mind and almost forget about him. He'd started to think that his "feelings" he'd had when he was younger were just normal emotions that every child had when they had someone to look up to. It had been easy to disregard every emotion that he'd even thought remotely romantic... But now that he was here, he was older, he was so much more attractive, he was so much more MATURE... Majic couldn't help but sink under the flood of feelings.

He sighed, shaking his head. 'No. Don't think like that. He won't be here long. I don't know why he wants to see the Everlastings, but it can't be anything that would keep him here. There's nothing HERE for him.'

Maybe that was what depressed him most. Torn between wanting Orphen to leave and wishing he would stay, Majic tried to force himself to sleep. Of course, because he was so anxious, his dreams weren't exactly something he would come to call pleasant...



Orphen walked down the stairs into the tavern dining room the next afternoon, yawning loudly and openly as he entered. He'd only just woken up; he liked to sleep late when he wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere.

Perhaps it was just him, but something had felt amiss when he'd woken up. Nothing was missing; his pendant had been on the nightstand, right where he had left it before going to sleep, nothing of his had been stolen... But there was a faint pinpricking sensation on his forehead, kind of similar to the tingles one felt after being lightly slapped.

Vulcan and Dortin were nowhere to be seen; they had most likely slipped out the first chance they'd gotten. No matter, they should be easy enough to locate if he ever needed them (though why he would he had no idea). A mother and her child were the only other customers, Bagup was washing dishes behind the counter and Majic seemed to be busy making sure that the customers were content.

Bagup was the first to greet him, surprisingly enough. "Good morning, young sorcerer."

"Morning, old man," Orphen said easily. He noticed Majic's eyes flickered his way, but they just as quickly diverted when he tried to meet them. Curious. He was acting even more nervous this morning than he had last night.

"Anything to eat?" Bagup asked.

"Nah, that's fine." Orphen relaxed on a stool, content with simply watching the little activity going on around him. Majic quickly realized he was being observed, and because of it he grew even more flustered.

"Mommy, I wanna go to the store," the little girl was whining, tugging on the woman's sleeve as she ate. "I want candy! I want a new toy! A pretty new dress! You're so MEAN! You never get me anything!"

The woman sighed heavily, as though this were routine, but before she could say anything a pale hand came to rest on the little girl's head. The mother, child and Orphen both looked at Majic curiously as he smiled brightly at the little girl.

"You shouldn't be so hard on your mother," he chastised gently. "Every moment with her will be precious."

The little girl sulked at first, but Majic seemed to have the uncanny ability to cheer anyone up with a sweet smile, especially those of the female species. "Yeah," the girl agreed in a reluctant tone.

The young mother smiled kindly. "You're a sweet boy."

Majic blushed, his smile growing a bit more nervous. "Ah... Thank you, ma'am. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, dear, we're fine. Thank you."

Later, shortly after the mother and child gathered their belongings and left on the next carriage ride out, Orphen snuck up quietly behind the blonde teenager. Majic didn't notice him until a low voice murmured in his ear, "Do you speak from experience?"

Majic yelped and coloured, turning so quickly they almost bumped heads. "Ah... Well..."

Orphen folded his arms over his chest, nodding toward the door and to the left. "Why don't we go for a walk?"

Seeing no way to escape, Majic hurried off to ask his father if it was all right for him to take his break now. In no time at all the two were walking toward the cemetery and Everlasting mansion.

Orphen waited until they were clear from the streets teeming with people before he spoke. "When did your mother die, Majic?"

The blue-eyed teen sighed heavily, running a trembling hand through his dusty gold hair. Some strands fell from their neat place and into his eyes. "Ah... When I was three. I don't remember her very well... But Father says she loved me very much." He remembered a little more than he was letting on, but Orphen didn't press.

"I see." The pause that followed stretched to the point of snapping. Neither could think of much to say. Well, Orphen had a few questions, but he wasn't sure how to pose them. Finally, he decided that being direct was the only way he was going to ever get it. "Majic."

"Y-yeah?"

They were nearing the cemetery. Iron gates, some parts of it rusted, separated the tombstones from the road. Scattered on a few graves were mostly dead flowers. One particular tombstone was larger than the rest, gleaming pristine white among the battered grays. At this distance Orphen could only make out "J. Everlasting"; the rest was obscured by the bright sunlight.

Tearing his eyes from the depressing land spot, he asked bluntly, "Did you ever tell your father that you were expelled from the Tower of Fangs?"

Majic froze, fingers wrapped around the handle of the iron gate. "No," he whispered, looking even paler than usual.

"Why not?" Perhaps it was just curiosity, perhaps some of his old fascination of the girlishly pretty young boy was rising again, perhaps he was just being annoying, but Orphen wanted to know.

Majic seemed uncertain. "It... It's kind of complicated--"

"I can assure you," the older sorcerer said grimly, "that I have more than enough time right now. So why don't you do us both a favor and start talking?"