Acting Natural

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have ridden in a pumpkin to your family’s house,” Sage huffed.  He crossed his arms, debating, “Pumpkins are hollow to begin with and have seeds lining the inside so we can snack on something while we drive there.”

            Chris forced a stiff lip, but eventually broke into giggling, “You do make a point, Sage.”  She stared at him for a long time, unable to get enough warmth from the glimmer in his passionate red eyes.  Chris’s hand started sliding towards Sage’s.  Then she saw his hair and puffed up.  She pulled him by the ear to fix his hair, explaining, “Because as practical as a pumpkin is, my family wouldn’t approve of something so bizarre.  Most of Atlas wouldn’t.  Also, Sage, please stop tying your hair at the top.  I get that you’ve got quite the mane, but if you must pull it back, it’s always tied at the bottom.”

            Backing away once his hair was fixed, Sage forced a pout and whined, “You told me that it was cute when I had that tuft on the top of my head.”

            “It’s adorable, d-don’t get me wrong!” Chris’s hands found adjustments all over Sage’s body.  His shirt was untucked.  Vest was cockeyed.  Pants weren’t rolled down all the way.  It gave her a twinge in her chest to fix the mess she loved so much.  Even when it was all clean, she couldn’t bring herself to find the sadness in Sage’s eyes.  “But my family is not the type to appreciate your different kind of beauty.”  She added quickly, “They’re not big fans of magic.”

            “Can’t they learn to like me?” Sage whimpered.  Chris started to curl up on herself and wring out her hands.  “I can show them that it’s not a bad way of life, just a different one.”  The mage grabbed her by the shoulders.  His eyes had turned slightly pink as they watered up.  “Chrissy,” he croaked.  “Please.”

            Chris shuffled her skirt and sighed, “Fine.  As long as it just sticks to parlor tricks, alright?  We don’t need anyone getting hurt.”  Chris tilted her head and smirked, wondering, “You have a few cards up your sleeve, don’t you?”

            Sage grinned toothily and unbuttoned his sleeves for two packs of playing cards to fall out.

            Chris snorted and buttoned his sleeves back together, stating, “That will be good enough.”  The carriage came to a sudden halt beneath them.  Sage opened a door to help Chris down as she ordered, “Just wait for the right moment to pull in the tricks.  For now, act natural.”

            “As natural as I can,” Sage agreed.

            Chris stepped out, careful not to get any dirt on her skirts.  Sage followed soon after, grinding dirt into his boots to spite her.  Chris rolled her eyes as the coachman slid off of his horse.  Chris opened the crook of her arm and Sage took it like a proper gentleman.  Chris smiled at him as they proceeded to the gate, for a brief moment wondering if the books had brought into the carriage were on manners, not magic.  She waited by the fence for the coachman to come unlock the gate. 

            “I don’t know how you can live on so much land,” Sage mused.  He pressed his nose through the bars of the fence.  “Why a lake?” He gasped slightly.  “Do you go swimming in it?”

            “No, though…” Chris stared at the lake, idea in the back of her head.  Her hands twitched at the corners of her corset.  If she could just get down to her petticoat and jump in for a second—no.  Her father would end her if she ruined another petticoat.  Tampering down the excitement in her voice, Chris responded, “No, we don’t swim in it.  It’s just for decoration.”  There was a click behind her.  She turned to see the coachman at their side and the undone lock.  “Thank you, Frederick.”  Stepping through the gates, Sage followed.

            Despite walking in the middle of the path, Chris’s skirts were so wide they still brushed against the flowerbeds.  Unable to see through them, Sage walked over the flowers to get in front of the girl.  He commented on Frederick bringing a horse into a far-off stable.  Having little focus, he quickly noted on the topiary garden and the silly shapes the hedges were cut into.

            Chris stopped in front of the main building and announced, “Here we are.”

            “It’s massive!” Sage blurted.  He laughed and danced around a column, tracking black garden bedding on the white patio.  Chris chuckled at the way Sage tried to drink in the whole world at once.  “Chrissy, there is no way that any man in Atlas can use this much space—not even the king!  The front step is a ballroom in itself!”

            “Please, it’s just a patio—oh!” Chris squeaked as Sage swept her up and started waltzing around.  Chris laughed heartily as he pecked her on the cheek, kicking her pale petticoat into a small flurry, and—

            “Chrysanthemum?”

            Chris blushed and immediately slid from Sage’s arms, greeting.  “G-Good afternoon, Basil.”  She tucked a few strands behinds her ears before addressing the young boy, “Do you know where Father is?”

            Basil just blinked with green eyes, muttering, “He has purple hair.”

            “It’s actually lilac,” Sage corrected.

            “Chrysanthemum, is he your beau?” Basil pointed at Sage.

            Blushing furiously, Chris raised her shoulders and asked again, “Basil, do you know where Father is?”

            Basil grinned, showing off bits of chocolate still rubbed onto the enamel, teasing, “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

            “I am with him on a little more than friendly terms, yes.  Don’t prod any more, alright?” Chris snapped.  “Now tell me where Father is.”

            “He’s in the courtyard with a business partner, so if you’re looking for anything monetary, I wouldn’t bother.  Otherwise,” He turned heel and headed inside.  “Good luck, sister.”

            “Good luck when you get reincarnated into a bug,” Chris muttered.  She stomped ahead into the hall, nearly cracking the wood floor under her heels.

            Sage’s sight drifted to an old portrait of the family.  Chris’s smile in the image looked like it was begrudgingly carved onto her face.  He turned back to her and grabbed her by the forearm.

            “Chrissy,” Sage started.  “You don’t sound normal—“   

            Chris broke in, “I sound fine—“

            “Like how you did when we first met,” Sage finished.  “You’re… you’re being kind of hostile, and with all due respect, I like you better friendly.”  Chris’s arm went limp in his grip.  When Sage let go, she let it fall to her side.  “You don’t like your family, do you?”

            “My entire life,” Chris heaved.  “My entire life, it’s always been: wear that, make friends with those people, go dance with that boy, make sure your posture looks like that.  It’s always been about what my father wanted; he’s trying to cultivate me to be some perfect little heiress to his stupid company!  When I told him I was in love with a mage, he laughed.  Sage, he laughed.  My father told me that if a boy was convincing me magic was real, then he must’ve been some sort of cultist!  He doesn’t know who you really are, how amazing you are!  To prove him wrong, I…” Chris stopped, tears falling off of her face.  “Sage, I’m so sorry.  I brought you here to spite him.  I was so desperate to make you look normal—what he thinks is normal.  If you were a regular gentleman, I thought my father would readily accept you, and maybe we could get his blessing… I…”

            Chris barely noticed when Sage started rubbing his thumb against her cheek, but heard him loud and clear when he promised, “Then if it’ll keep us together, I’ll be the best damn gentleman your family has ever seen.  Now where’s the courtyard?”

            The corners of Chris’s lips shakily turned upwards.  She pointed to a door in the back of the hall.  Sage interlocked arms with her and proceeded down the hall so intently he nearly forgot to breathe.  While Sage couldn’t fathom the size of the estate initially, he now was crossing it as fast as a racehorse.  Chris could barely keep up in her dress, tripping over her heels.

            Sage blew the doors wide open without touching them.  Spring air drafted in from the courtyard.  A strongly-built man was sitting across from some business partner.  The partner rose and excused themselves in a quick mumble before dashing into the main hall.  Chris stood with a vigilant Sage in the doorway as the imposing man drew closer.

            His eyes were dead coals and voice a calm reaper’s as he asked, “Chrysanthemum, who is this boy?”

            “This young man is the one I mentioned the other day,” Chris stated matter-of-factly.  She motioned to the mage with her free arm, denoting, “Father, this is Sage.”

            Beads of sweat were forming on Chris’s forehead as her father examined Sage.  She started doing the same, freaking out on the prospect that she missed something.  Collar was folded over.  Shirt tucked in fully.  Vest buttoned properly.  Her father was probably going to criticize Sage for buttoning the sleeves instead of using cuff links, just to find something to criticize.

            Finally, her father held out a hand and introduced, “Angus Anthony.”

            Sage shook on it, returning with, “Sage.  Please to meet you, Mr. Anthony.”

            “Just Sage?”  Angus lifted an eyebrow, pulling his hand back to his side.  “Do you not have a family name?”

            Of course he had a family name.  Chris shot a panicked glance at Sage, wiping sweat from her hands onto her skirt.  His slight smile was still confident, eyes wide enough to still want to see the world.  If he put on this cheerful façade, Sage had to have a plan.  Chris knew he didn’t have a family name; he was just some mage living in the forest.  She tried to think up the most generic, inconspicuous last name possible.

            “No, I don’t have a family name,” Sage admitted.  Chris deflated, seeing the spark of disapproval in her father’s eyes.  “I was estranged at a young age.  My parents weren’t too happy to see they had a magically adept baby, so they left me.”  Sage stared at his feet, bemoaning, “So I hear that Atlas will never accept men like me.  Your daughter, though, is lovely enough to see—“

            “There is no such thing as magic, Sage.” Angus interrupted.  “I don’t know why you’re trying to taint my daughter’s mind, but if you’re going as far as to lie to my face, you must have a reason.”

            “But it’s real, Mr. Anthony.”

            “I’d like to see it,” a small voice chimed.  Everyone turned around to see Basil standing in the doorway.  His smirk pressed up against his ears.  Black hair was swept back, showing off the mischief in his eyes.  “I wouldn’t mind a show.”

            “I would be glad,” Sage emphasized, staring directly at Angus.  Turning to Chris, Sage whispered, “I hope this is an appropriate time.”

            Chris nodded approval, simultaneously rubbing the back of her neck.  Sage clapped and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.  His devilish smile was enough to rival Basil’s.  The hair on Chris’s arms pricked to see such a wide grin.

            A fire eventually sparked between Sage’s hands.  Basil’s initial teasing had turned to amazement, not sure what to do with a born pyrotechnic.  Chris stared at the heart of the fire, burning bright red.  It was as mysterious and ardent as the magician’s own eyes.  He put out the flame as quickly as at started.

            “Probably has a matchstick up his sleeve,” Angus grumbled.  Chris squared her shoulders and clenched her fists.  Her father had to be that stubborn.

            “Nothing up my sleeves at all, Mr. Anthony.”  As proof, Sage tugged at his sleeves slightly to show nothing.  Then he undid the buttons on his sleeves and the pack of cards fell from them, as reliably as they had before.  Basil gasped and stole a deck from Sage.  Sage opened the remaining pack and directed, “Think of any card—“

            “I’ve already seen this, young man.  This isn’t magic.  It’s idle entertainment,” Angus countered.

            “Father, give him a chance.  For once, take into account what I want,” Chris begged.  “He’s the real deal, I promise—“

            Angus held up a hand and belted, “I will have none of this!”

            “Tough crowd,” Sage mumbled.  “Alright, maybe you prefer birds to cards.”  He interlocked his hands.  Chris stared intently at them until something cried out from within it.  Sage opened up his grip and a dove flew out.  It sat on Basil’s head and happily tweeted.  Basil reached up and tried to pet it before it flew onto Angus.

            Angus batted it away and barked, “Nonsense, there was one flying around the garden earlier.  Don’t try to convince me that you just made a bird from thin air.”

            “Perhaps you like rabbits—“

            “I do not enjoy cards, birds, or rabbits.  I do not take a preference to any of them in the context of ‘magic.’  You are nothing more than an impudent entertainer, and if you are trying to tell my daughter it’s real, I want you off of my property!” Angus took Sage by the wrist and started dragging him inside.

            “Sage!” Chris cried.  She pried Angus’s fingers from the mage and wrapped her own hand around her father’s wrist.  “Father, please, you aren’t giving me a chance!  Just one more, h-he can convince you!  He’s amazing—“

            A sharp smack echoed through the air.  Basil stopped smiling, immediately running back into the house lest he bear his father’s anger.  Chris almost cried at how much her face stung.  Her cheek was turning as red as cherries and grew wet from the tears.  Backing away, the shadow over her grew darker and darker.  Her whole face was burning, but the darkness didn’t go away.

            Sage stepped forward, muttering, “Don’t dare touch my Chrissy.”

            “She is my daughter; you are a nuisance in my home.  Chrysanthemum stays, and you will leave to never return—“

            “Don’t—touch,” Sage growled, chest rising so far it looked like he would bust out of his vest.  “My—CHRISSY!”

            The scream that clawed its way out of Sage’s throat was so primal it was like he had swallowed Chaos himself.  Chris tried to yell over him, but it didn’t work.  Sage raised a hand gripping fire, and threw it like a barrage of arrows across the garden.  The entire place caught fire, the sky glazing over with smoke.  Chris’s lungs were filling up to much to yell.

            Sage marched over and pushed Angus to the ground.  A boot on his chest, Angus was pinned to the ground by some scrawny boy.  He writhed and demanded Sage to remove himself.  That only cause the mage to hiss and push against his throat.  Angus choked, still fighting.

            “Sage,” Chris called.  Her voice was too weak, but she tried again, “Sage!”  Pulling herself together, she marched to Sage and pulled him up.  “Sage, listen for God’s sake!”  She turned his face to her own, matched up with a blood thirsty anger in his face.  It softened when he met Chris’s gaze.

            “Chrissy, I—“

            “I don’t care,” Chris sobbed.  “Just fix it.  Sage, the lake.”

            Sage paused to think about it, the smoke getting to his own head.  He nodded and tried to maneuver around.  Making odd gestures around the air, it seemed futile.  Until Chris spotted the massive ball of water floating overhead.  Sage dropped it, not only killing the fire, but soaking everyone else.

            Angus stared at Chris with deadly intention, and Chris wasn’t so sure it was about the petticoat.  She crossed eyes with Sage, and they seemed to get the same idea.  He swept her up and propelled them over the roof with a gust of wind.  Sage never considered putting Chris down until they were so far away that Angus’s screaming was drowned out by the distance.

            Chris laid on the forest ground while Sage bawled over and over, “Chrissy, I’m so, so sorry.  I know you wanted me to be a gentleman, but I couldn’t keep it in.  I couldn’t stand there and watch as your own father hit you.  Chrissy, I’m sorry—“

            “Sage,” Chris intervened.  She touched his face gently, but Sage turned away.  “If my father isn’t enough of a gentleman to be patient with his own daughter, you don’t have to be a gentleman either.”

            Sage sniffled and tried up his own tears, trying to smile.

            “Now is there a pumpkin anywhere?” Chris stood up, looking around.  “We need a ride out of here.”