without love, it can not be seen
((OOC: Explanation - after watching several hours straight of the latest Umineko english patch, i decided to go back to the 'fake marriage' verse and write up some theories of magic in that world.))
"What is magic?"
Tea on the patio, with the fading sunset, that is where and when the strange question had been asked. Magica held the cup in her hand, having paused in her drink once the words had left the miser's mouth. she looked at him, making sure she had heard correctly. Since one of his eyebrows were raised and his gaze was curious, the question had been real. Quietly, she resumed her sip. "Why do you ask?"
"It bothers me," He replied, voice already annoyed. "... when things happen with no explanation. I've seen you buy potions and wands, and buying a weapon is something anyone can do... but you also can conjure up spells all on your own. It should be one or the other. What's the difference?"
She traced the outline of the cup. "... Yes, almost anyone can buy weapons. But that doesn't mean everyone can use them. If a man who has never used a gun before picks one up, he will not fire straight, and he might even wind up injuring his hand in the process. One needs experience before mastering bought weapons."
"But even then... a gun is a machine. You speak of experience with the supernatural."
A shrug with one shoulder. "I could teach your nephews how to use bought spells and potions for the rest of my life, but even when they turn gray, they would never be as powerful as myself, or other sorcerers and sorceresses."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the insistence of that term. She always got angry if she was called anything but a sorceress. For the sake of learning, he'd put that aside for now. "And why is that? What makes you and your ilk different from me and my nephews?"
"Blood. Genetics." Catching the skepticism in his expression, she smirked. "Is it that much of a surprise? Like any genetic anomaly, magic is inherited. If a man with blue eyes and a woman with blue eyes have a child, there is a stronger likelihood that their child will also have blue eyes. My father had magic, my mother had magic, so Poe and I had magic."
"Poe doesn't use magic." He refilled his cup. Some stars were beginning to shine out. The moon was hidden behind faint clouds. "I've never even seen him try."
"It's a part of his transformation." Her eyes looked away, uncomfortable with the subject, yet still willing to relent. "When I turned him, I didn't just change his out appearance... I changed his blood, his DNA. The only thing left that is truly him and our family is his memory. We are no longer blood related."
There was a tense silence. At first, the elder was ready to ask if Poe knew... but... it became clear in his own mind. If Poe hadn't been told of it, the raven would have figured it out on his own, when he couldn't perform even the most simplest of magic. Perhaps that was why Granny treated him as more of a pet than a grandson, since he 'wasn't' a grandson to her anymore. Yet, as the older one kept thinking, he could recall moments where Magica treated Poe not quite as an equal but still as family. Even now, Magica looked decidedly unpleasant, with that emotion he thought she didn't have - guilt.
Scrooge cleared his throat. "That still doesn't explain some things... all right, so you got it from your parents, who got it from your grandmother, and back and back... where did it all start?"
She took another drink before getting back into the conversation. "With the gods, of course."
"Of course." A derisive snort.
"It's natural of you not to believe... but there were ancient times that it was commonplace for everyone to believe in gods. But as science and technology advanced, people disregarded their beliefs... but not everyone did. Those others, in fact, praised the gods for these advancements. But the people also became worried that, at this rate, belief would be stomped out everywhere, and future generations wouldn't believe in the gods. So they prayed and sacrificed, begging the gods for a way to keep belief alive. The gods decided to bless these people with magic."
"I've seen more believable nonsense in Donald's comic books." A wag of the finger. "Where is your proof?"
"Our own history books... which, is up to interpretation. No one is alive from those days, so for all I know, it could be false. But it's just easier to believe that story." Her cup became empty. "The same could be said for many religions. No one from the times of the original written bible is alive, and yet is is still treated as fact."
"I was never one for religion." The tea pot became empty. "I still don't understand it all. How can your body, just because of a few select strands of DNA, be able to do things mortals can't?"
She looked down at her now empty hands. "... Desire."
"Desire?"
The only light between was a single candle, flickering brightly over a red candle. Magica took the candle holder, a faded golden color, grasping it lightly in her fingers. With her other hand, she held up her wand in preparation. Then, with a soft and quick breath, the fire was gone. "You can light this again easily enough with a match, you can do it all by yourself, with your own hands. with magic... it deeply depends on what you want. You must want it with all of your heart." She pointed the wand at the burnt tip, and they both glowed deeply - in the blink of an eye, the candle was lit again. "I desired warmth and light. Desire... and desperation. Us of the magic cannot blend so easily into mortal society. Sometimes our lives are not easy. We become desperate to continue living, as our kind die out."
The candle was the same as it had been minutes ago, as if it had never been blown out. Night was settling in. The fire was reflected in her eyes, and her face was illuminated. How much time had passed since he invited her to tea with him our on the patio? She placed the candle back down on the table. He watched it a little more before speaking. "If you don't have any children, the DeSpell line dies with you."
"And another magical family is eliminated from the gene pool." A snap of her fingers, putting her wand down. "But I don't care. I've never cared too greatly for children... I can barely stand your brats. When I have the amulet granting me the power of the Midas Touch, I will be rich enough so that my line is eternally remembered. Our wondrous last stand. It's the same with you."
He did not respond, felt no need to. Just a nod. He could see where she was going with that reasoning.
"Even when the worms are eating your bones, everyone will still remember the name Scrooge McDuck. No nephew of yours carries that same last name. You are the last of the clan McDuck, and with your wealth, you will be remembered forever. That is a magic no sorcerer could create... the power of immortality."
This time, he crossed one arm over, and pointed a finger. "About that, immortality... and I don't mean that whole 'remembrance' thing. Why can no sorcerer do that? I imagine wanting to live forever would generate tons of powerful desire."
One of her legs crossed over the other. "... That is even stronger proof that the gods gave us this power."
"Explain."
"There is a branch of spell work that is called The Forbidden, because it is exactly that - forbidden. Using those spells threatens to expose magic to the entire world, and would create havoc, making us the new gods of the world. as punishment, whenever someone uses such a spell, they lose ten years of their life."
"That's hardly proof."
"Well, it's not like when they use, a god suddenly appears and smacks them upside the head. They just die much sooner than expected. After it happened enough times, the mathematics were figured out."
"Have you ever used one?"
A soft chuckle. The sun was gone. "I'm not stupid, as much as you're inclined to think so. I want the rest of my life to enjoy my riches."
"So what are The Forbidden?" A few fireflies were making themselves known in the close gardens. Scrooge would silently shoo one away if one get too close, but Magica would allow one to crawl along her arm if it wanted to.
"Extending someone's life span. Shortening someone's life span. Death. Love-"
"Now hold on." he cut her off, leaning in. "I've seen you use plenty of love potions and spells."
"Mediocre things." A dismissive wave of her hand. "Those types had time limits, and only seized part of the heart. The Forbidden Spell Of Love captures the entire heart and mind, for all time. It's a love akin to madness. The victim cares for nothing but the caster... not even their own health. That spell has been the cause of much bloodshed. Helen of Troy was a victim, as was Romeo and Isolde..."
His brows furrowed. "... Wait... do you mean Romeo and Juliet? Tristan and Isolde? Those are made up stories."
"So is magic, to some." A smile, and then she stood. "It's getting cold. I'm going inside."
"One more question." He stood as well. "Do you actually know how to use The Forbidden?"
Her eyes met his. "Yes. For the sake of our dying history, sorcerers and sorceress are even taught those spells. Granny, Samson Hex, Rosalino, even Witch Child could use one, if their desire was strong enough."
He picked up his cane, that was previously laid against his chair. He appeared amused. "Should I take it as a compliment that you've never desired me dead that strongly?"
She approached the doors. "Fool. If you died, that dime of yours becomes worthless. Then I'd have to find the next richest man alive." Though her hand was on the door handle, she did not press on it. She could feel his eyes on her, still inquisitive. A sigh. "All right, what else?"
"Those gods... if they gave your people magic, that makes these supposed divine beings useless. They wouldn't need to help your people anymore, since they could help themselves. What became of them?"
She stayed where she was, even as he walked up to her. Slowly, she turned to look at him. "We believe they help the non-blessed. The mortals. They give you strength... you just aren't aware of it. When you desire something that desperately... they are there to lend that power. Fate changes. Miracles occur. They can't do this to everyone... without belief, their abilities grow weaker all the time. But they will live on so long as humanity does. Because desire... always exists."
They stared at each other. The candle was still lit. There was no wind.
"You're saying, if I desire something strongly enough, the gods will help me?" He had desired many things in his life, he knew that well.
Desire and need are two different things. People need food and water, need comes with survival. Need is primal, and can over ride the mind in order to get it. Deaths can be as a result of an unfulfilled need. Desire is different. Desire is a pain that cannot be described, yet, with time, it can be pushed away. People can live without desires being fulfilled. Yet, there is not a single person who has ever lived who has never felt desire at least once.
And yet, there are people who let desire consume their lives. They feel without this wish being granted, they are better off dead. If they allow it, a desire can control a person. That's when the desire becomes a need. That's when the gods can no longer help. You are on your own.
The door handle was gripped. "It's possible. But they have better wishes to grant than the ones of a rich old miser. So, probably not." The door was opened, and she was soon gone.
When he could no longer hear her footsteps, he returned to the table, and picked up the candle holder. He blew it out. "Yes," he murmured, touching the remains of wax. "Probably not."
"What is magic?"
Tea on the patio, with the fading sunset, that is where and when the strange question had been asked. Magica held the cup in her hand, having paused in her drink once the words had left the miser's mouth. she looked at him, making sure she had heard correctly. Since one of his eyebrows were raised and his gaze was curious, the question had been real. Quietly, she resumed her sip. "Why do you ask?"
"It bothers me," He replied, voice already annoyed. "... when things happen with no explanation. I've seen you buy potions and wands, and buying a weapon is something anyone can do... but you also can conjure up spells all on your own. It should be one or the other. What's the difference?"
She traced the outline of the cup. "... Yes, almost anyone can buy weapons. But that doesn't mean everyone can use them. If a man who has never used a gun before picks one up, he will not fire straight, and he might even wind up injuring his hand in the process. One needs experience before mastering bought weapons."
"But even then... a gun is a machine. You speak of experience with the supernatural."
A shrug with one shoulder. "I could teach your nephews how to use bought spells and potions for the rest of my life, but even when they turn gray, they would never be as powerful as myself, or other sorcerers and sorceresses."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the insistence of that term. She always got angry if she was called anything but a sorceress. For the sake of learning, he'd put that aside for now. "And why is that? What makes you and your ilk different from me and my nephews?"
"Blood. Genetics." Catching the skepticism in his expression, she smirked. "Is it that much of a surprise? Like any genetic anomaly, magic is inherited. If a man with blue eyes and a woman with blue eyes have a child, there is a stronger likelihood that their child will also have blue eyes. My father had magic, my mother had magic, so Poe and I had magic."
"Poe doesn't use magic." He refilled his cup. Some stars were beginning to shine out. The moon was hidden behind faint clouds. "I've never even seen him try."
"It's a part of his transformation." Her eyes looked away, uncomfortable with the subject, yet still willing to relent. "When I turned him, I didn't just change his out appearance... I changed his blood, his DNA. The only thing left that is truly him and our family is his memory. We are no longer blood related."
There was a tense silence. At first, the elder was ready to ask if Poe knew... but... it became clear in his own mind. If Poe hadn't been told of it, the raven would have figured it out on his own, when he couldn't perform even the most simplest of magic. Perhaps that was why Granny treated him as more of a pet than a grandson, since he 'wasn't' a grandson to her anymore. Yet, as the older one kept thinking, he could recall moments where Magica treated Poe not quite as an equal but still as family. Even now, Magica looked decidedly unpleasant, with that emotion he thought she didn't have - guilt.
Scrooge cleared his throat. "That still doesn't explain some things... all right, so you got it from your parents, who got it from your grandmother, and back and back... where did it all start?"
She took another drink before getting back into the conversation. "With the gods, of course."
"Of course." A derisive snort.
"It's natural of you not to believe... but there were ancient times that it was commonplace for everyone to believe in gods. But as science and technology advanced, people disregarded their beliefs... but not everyone did. Those others, in fact, praised the gods for these advancements. But the people also became worried that, at this rate, belief would be stomped out everywhere, and future generations wouldn't believe in the gods. So they prayed and sacrificed, begging the gods for a way to keep belief alive. The gods decided to bless these people with magic."
"I've seen more believable nonsense in Donald's comic books." A wag of the finger. "Where is your proof?"
"Our own history books... which, is up to interpretation. No one is alive from those days, so for all I know, it could be false. But it's just easier to believe that story." Her cup became empty. "The same could be said for many religions. No one from the times of the original written bible is alive, and yet is is still treated as fact."
"I was never one for religion." The tea pot became empty. "I still don't understand it all. How can your body, just because of a few select strands of DNA, be able to do things mortals can't?"
She looked down at her now empty hands. "... Desire."
"Desire?"
The only light between was a single candle, flickering brightly over a red candle. Magica took the candle holder, a faded golden color, grasping it lightly in her fingers. With her other hand, she held up her wand in preparation. Then, with a soft and quick breath, the fire was gone. "You can light this again easily enough with a match, you can do it all by yourself, with your own hands. with magic... it deeply depends on what you want. You must want it with all of your heart." She pointed the wand at the burnt tip, and they both glowed deeply - in the blink of an eye, the candle was lit again. "I desired warmth and light. Desire... and desperation. Us of the magic cannot blend so easily into mortal society. Sometimes our lives are not easy. We become desperate to continue living, as our kind die out."
The candle was the same as it had been minutes ago, as if it had never been blown out. Night was settling in. The fire was reflected in her eyes, and her face was illuminated. How much time had passed since he invited her to tea with him our on the patio? She placed the candle back down on the table. He watched it a little more before speaking. "If you don't have any children, the DeSpell line dies with you."
"And another magical family is eliminated from the gene pool." A snap of her fingers, putting her wand down. "But I don't care. I've never cared too greatly for children... I can barely stand your brats. When I have the amulet granting me the power of the Midas Touch, I will be rich enough so that my line is eternally remembered. Our wondrous last stand. It's the same with you."
He did not respond, felt no need to. Just a nod. He could see where she was going with that reasoning.
"Even when the worms are eating your bones, everyone will still remember the name Scrooge McDuck. No nephew of yours carries that same last name. You are the last of the clan McDuck, and with your wealth, you will be remembered forever. That is a magic no sorcerer could create... the power of immortality."
This time, he crossed one arm over, and pointed a finger. "About that, immortality... and I don't mean that whole 'remembrance' thing. Why can no sorcerer do that? I imagine wanting to live forever would generate tons of powerful desire."
One of her legs crossed over the other. "... That is even stronger proof that the gods gave us this power."
"Explain."
"There is a branch of spell work that is called The Forbidden, because it is exactly that - forbidden. Using those spells threatens to expose magic to the entire world, and would create havoc, making us the new gods of the world. as punishment, whenever someone uses such a spell, they lose ten years of their life."
"That's hardly proof."
"Well, it's not like when they use, a god suddenly appears and smacks them upside the head. They just die much sooner than expected. After it happened enough times, the mathematics were figured out."
"Have you ever used one?"
A soft chuckle. The sun was gone. "I'm not stupid, as much as you're inclined to think so. I want the rest of my life to enjoy my riches."
"So what are The Forbidden?" A few fireflies were making themselves known in the close gardens. Scrooge would silently shoo one away if one get too close, but Magica would allow one to crawl along her arm if it wanted to.
"Extending someone's life span. Shortening someone's life span. Death. Love-"
"Now hold on." he cut her off, leaning in. "I've seen you use plenty of love potions and spells."
"Mediocre things." A dismissive wave of her hand. "Those types had time limits, and only seized part of the heart. The Forbidden Spell Of Love captures the entire heart and mind, for all time. It's a love akin to madness. The victim cares for nothing but the caster... not even their own health. That spell has been the cause of much bloodshed. Helen of Troy was a victim, as was Romeo and Isolde..."
His brows furrowed. "... Wait... do you mean Romeo and Juliet? Tristan and Isolde? Those are made up stories."
"So is magic, to some." A smile, and then she stood. "It's getting cold. I'm going inside."
"One more question." He stood as well. "Do you actually know how to use The Forbidden?"
Her eyes met his. "Yes. For the sake of our dying history, sorcerers and sorceress are even taught those spells. Granny, Samson Hex, Rosalino, even Witch Child could use one, if their desire was strong enough."
He picked up his cane, that was previously laid against his chair. He appeared amused. "Should I take it as a compliment that you've never desired me dead that strongly?"
She approached the doors. "Fool. If you died, that dime of yours becomes worthless. Then I'd have to find the next richest man alive." Though her hand was on the door handle, she did not press on it. She could feel his eyes on her, still inquisitive. A sigh. "All right, what else?"
"Those gods... if they gave your people magic, that makes these supposed divine beings useless. They wouldn't need to help your people anymore, since they could help themselves. What became of them?"
She stayed where she was, even as he walked up to her. Slowly, she turned to look at him. "We believe they help the non-blessed. The mortals. They give you strength... you just aren't aware of it. When you desire something that desperately... they are there to lend that power. Fate changes. Miracles occur. They can't do this to everyone... without belief, their abilities grow weaker all the time. But they will live on so long as humanity does. Because desire... always exists."
They stared at each other. The candle was still lit. There was no wind.
"You're saying, if I desire something strongly enough, the gods will help me?" He had desired many things in his life, he knew that well.
Desire and need are two different things. People need food and water, need comes with survival. Need is primal, and can over ride the mind in order to get it. Deaths can be as a result of an unfulfilled need. Desire is different. Desire is a pain that cannot be described, yet, with time, it can be pushed away. People can live without desires being fulfilled. Yet, there is not a single person who has ever lived who has never felt desire at least once.
And yet, there are people who let desire consume their lives. They feel without this wish being granted, they are better off dead. If they allow it, a desire can control a person. That's when the desire becomes a need. That's when the gods can no longer help. You are on your own.
The door handle was gripped. "It's possible. But they have better wishes to grant than the ones of a rich old miser. So, probably not." The door was opened, and she was soon gone.
When he could no longer hear her footsteps, he returned to the table, and picked up the candle holder. He blew it out. "Yes," he murmured, touching the remains of wax. "Probably not."