Chapter Text
Baz
For every mage it’s the same yet different. It always manifests on your birthday, but which birthday, you never know. And for each mage the “gift” is individual. It can be a strengthening of an already existent tallent, or a reaction to your surroundings.
Today’s my eighteenth birthday. I usually don’t make a big deal out of my birthday. Last year Fiona drove out to the school and demanded to know what my ability was. She was sure that seventeen would be the year, it was for both her and my mother, but nothing happened. I wonder if my vampirism has anything to do with it. My father didn’t seem to care, and Daphne sent me her customary card.
I finish brushing my teeth and run my fingers through my freshly washed hair, before leaving the bathroom. Snow is already gone, he woke me up extra early this morning, on my birthday ! Though he doesn’t know it’s my birthday. He’s probably too dense to even have wondered when my birthday is.
I gather my school books and head down to the dining hall before breakfast closes.
My eyes immediately search for Simon, but I only find Bunce sitting at their regular table, nose buried in a book. Snow is nowhere to be seen.
The line for food is long, but sometimes it is on the weekend. Especially considering you have to serve yourself. I decide to forgo food and skip straight to the drink table.
Dev and Niel aren’t here. They recently got together and I hardly ever see them anymore. I just take my tea and decide to go to the library. I do need to revise my essay for Magical History.
I make my way through the empty library to the back where there is a massive fireplace. A large fire crackles happily, giving off a wonderful heat. I shigh and start setting my things on the table next to one of the high backed armchairs.
Suddenly I hear someone storming through the library, despite the sound dampening spells cast on the room. A sharp smoky smell drifts to me and I instantly know it’s Snow. I also know that he’s seconds from going off.
I turn around and face him, just as he comes around the corner.
The fire in his eyes roars higher when he sees me and I see his arms come up as he runs at me.
“You stole her you fucking, insufferable, pretentious, evil…” he screams at me his hands come towards my chest. I have no idea what he’s going on about, or what set him off this time. I also don’t have time to register what is happening before it’s too late.
Snow’s hands make contact with my chest and I feel a light flutter in my heart at his touch, though I know it’s only out of hatred. Then I recognize the sensation of falling. And the heat of the fire at my back. AND THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES.
You know in movies, how when something bad happens like someone falls off a skyscraper or a bullet is flying at their chest, and time seems to slow? Well that’s exactly what happens to me. The world goes fuzzy and I drift backwards.
The only things in focus are the warmth behind me and the look on Simon’s face as he realizes what he just did to me.
“I’m going to burn” I think and I find that I’m not too worried. I always knew that Snow would be the death of me. It’s kinda comforting knowing that things are all going according to plan. Though I wish I could have kissed him. I’ve had many fantasies about him running me through with that sword of his and me kissing him with my dying breath.
I feel a cold wash through me. Is this what burning feels like?
I finally hit the ground and I’ve landed flat on my arse.
Time comes rushing back in and I let out a cry, “Snow! Look what you’ve done now. My new shirt! I bought this for my birthday. You just completely ruined it. Look at these ash stains!”
Then it hits me, ash stains. I’m in the fireplace, and I’m not ash myself. I look down and see the flames licking at my skin. They feel like a warm blanket, like I could wield them with a mere thought.
I decide I want them gone and instantly they vanish. This must be it! My Gift. I always was good with flames, but now it looks like they can’t harm me as well as having stronger control.
Ha! Fitting. I’m from the house of Pitch, as well as a vampire.
Suddenly, I feel strong arms squeezing the life out of me and the sickening smell of smoke wraps around me. Cloying and sharp.
“Baz!” sobs Snow into my shirt, “I thought you were going to die!”
Snow is hugging me I realize. He’s full on hugging me and sobbing because he thought I was going to die. This must be the best day of my life.
And that’s why my body decides to shove him off me.
“Get off me you idiot !” I say shoving him roughly off me. ( Why are you doing this to yourself Baz!? This could be your chance! A little voice inside says. I completely agree, but for some reason something else has taken control)
The look of hurt on his face as he falls backwards, makes me want to pull him close and protect him from every bad thing in this world. I never want to let him go,
Instead the new being in control of the wheel stands up, brushes the ash from my trousers and sneers at Snow. “Nice job almost killing me on my birthday. Top marks for effort. I applaud your method. You would have succeeded, but looks like I got my gift.”
( aaaahhhhhh!!! I internally scream. Stop, stop, stop, stop!!! This is your chance! The little voice yells. “I know, I know, I know!” I think back, “I’m trying!!!”)
“I never knew. It’s your birthday?” says Snow.
“Astute observation,” I snatch my stuff off the table and leave Snow spluttering on the ground. Just as I round the corner I think I hear him whisper, “I never did want you dead.”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I think I just really fucked things up! Internally I’m melting, but I have to keep my cool. Simon just hugged me! He doesn't want me dead! But I threw it all down the drain!
I’m about to go freak out in my room, but Snow could come back at any moment, so I decide to hide in the catacombs.
As I’m walking down the hall, I feel each and every flaming torch used to light the corridor like a little flicking spark that I could wield with the slightest thought.
Maybe I should go test out my new abilities. Fiona will be thrilled. Fire! Her ability is fire as well. She likes to walk around with flaming hair. My father always freaked out whenever she did it around me, what with me being a vampire and all.
“Fiona! He’s flammable !” he would snap and she would snark about how she was a Pitch and he was an idiot for ever thinking she would do anything to harm her favorite nephew.
I make my way out to the Wavering Wood to telephone Fiona and let her know the news.