#l.faba

A couple of outtakes:

Dylan, I know you haven't seen Celeste in a while and you REALLY like her sweater, but uh... can you at least be less obvious what you're looking at? I don't even have WW installed - the man did this himself.

Wylde, sweetie, I don't think you're going to find much...

I wake up feeling different, as if there is a new purpose humming within me. It's barely there, I admit, but I do know it wasn't there before. Maybe it's because for the first time I felt welcome? Sure, sure, SUUUUURE, it was by a vampire, an actual blood sucking leech on two legs but...I was feeling welcome for the first time in a long time. That I could be part of something or rather part of whatever they have planned. I'm not sure what I'm stepping into, or rather if I'm stepping into anything at all.

Whatever the day decides to throw my way brownies shall help me prepare for it. At least that's what I'm telling myself. I'm a bit delusional, as you can tell, just let me have my delusions?

So I do the usual, clean my floors and myself and end up watching TV any ways which is a box full of delusions. Just trying to pass time I guess, I don't know. Honestly, what even is my life?

Well, it's Friday, so something has to happen. Things usually happen on Friday's, right?

And I was right, something DOES happen A knock at the door and on the other side some random guy. A handsome random guy, I should add, calling himself 'Niklas Krausser'. It's a name I'm sure to remember because it belongs to a man ridiculously hot. Tall, well defined features, and a bit of a presence to him. Hard to explain. There is a sense of magic to him, I know that at once. As they say, it takes one to know one.

"And what brings you to my door, Niklas?" I ask, pretending to be casual despite this unexpected twist to my day.

"I've heard a lot about you," his reply has a smoothness to it. "But..."

"But?"

"There's not much magic to you after all," he continues and now I think he's sizing me up. I should be worried, after all, there are people out there who would like me dead but I'm guessing if that was his intention I would be already. "There's a flicker there, faint....barely noticeable at all."

"Sorry to disappoint," I feel a little stung and a need to defend myself. "I've been excluded from the super secret magic club all of my life so you can't blame me."

"Heh, fair enough," he says with a chuckle. "If its any consolation you're not missing out on much," his eyes linger on me a little longer and I'm starting to realize he's not sizing me up for my magical abilities. "May I?" he asks with a tilt of his head.

Ladies, it's not wise to let strange men into your home but my life needs a little spice so why not?

Mr. Krausser settles himself comfortably on the couch in my very plain and lame living room. He doesn't fit here. The bare walls and cheap furniture make him stand out a little more than he should. He lounges as if he's a king, full of confidence, talking about the weather and local news at first before we get into what he's likely really here for. Magic.

"You should know, magic is quite overrated," he says waving his hand as if to emphasize this point.

I'm blinking, confused, because, "How can magic be overrated?"

"Don't be silly, Gracelyn, it's all a bit shallow, isn't it?"

And now I'm crossing my arms, demanding more of an explanation. "Shallow? Some can bend reality with, can't they?"

He shrugs because this is an argument I'm sure he's heard before. "But should we allow others to bend reality? Is it truly worth it?"

"Yeaaa...." I'm not a big fan of philosophy.

"Most of us," he continues. "About 99% actually, can't do much. Determine the flip of a coin or your typical parlor tricks," again a hand wave, he makes it all seem rather boring.

"Yes but, a coin flip could change the future? Butterfly effect?" he's not moving, another shrug of those shoulders of his. "You could at least use it for better, clean up big with it, walk out a winner."

"Yes, sure, I guess," he's not at all convinced. "Remember, the realm frowns upon such things, so what is it really useful for?" He smirks, thinking I am defeated and perhaps I am. I'm no expert on magic after all.

He's right. The Realm has strict rules that apply, ironically, all outside of the realm, from what I understand. A spellcaster cannot use magic to manipulate others or alter the world in their favor in any way. You'd be in a world of trouble for making yourself rich as the wealth brings you power and your punishment? Let's just not talk about the punishments.

"So then, why are you here?" I narrow my eyes at him, trying to draw out his purpose. "To deter me from wanting to learn it because-"

"Actually, I have no idea why I'm here!" he says throwing up his hands and looking truly perplexed.

"What?" Okay, that catches me off guard? I was expecting some serious conversation, you know, another warning. 'Don't pick up any magical books you little witch or else!' but instead I just get some clueless but clean cut nice looking guy dropping by for no reason at all? I can't help but to start laughing. "Okay, what is this about?"

He takes a long and dramatic sigh and stands, dusting himself off and then heads right for the door as if he had accomplished his goal but he doesn't get too far before I stop him.

"Look, umm, Gracelyn, this might be a mistake," he tells me, suddenly lacking the confidence that he walked in here with. "Which is wrong, mistakes don't happen, not with me, I've been led wrong before but-"

"Buuuut? But what?" I interrupt, close enough to deny him exit because now my curiosity wants to keep him here so that I can get a little more out of him. "What is this about?"

"I-it's destiny, you know? Fate?" there is an earnest energy to his voice now, his tone telling me that whatever he's going on about he truly believes it. I'm just not sure what he's talking about. "Do you believe in that? Believe in fate?"

"Maybe," I hesitate, what else am I to say. This is the same guy who said magic was overrated not that long ago and now he's asking me to believe in it? "It could be some kind of magic, right? What is this about?"

"It's my watch, Gracelyn," he holds it up for a second, lightly tapping the glass of its face. "It leads me, guides me, to....well, fate, I guess. I've been following it all of my life and wherever it points, I go, especially when I'm lost and well...here I am, at this house, with you."

"O-oh..." well if this is a pick-up line it's rather creative. I'm a little thrown off though, trying to process it. Magic is real, of course it is, who am I to deny it? Yet if what he's saying is true... "So, let me get this straight, your watch led you to me or-"

"Or it's led me to this house," he says quietly, seemingly as confused to his purpose as I am. "Which I guess is possible but..." he lets that thought hang, rubs the back of his neck and takes a deep breath. "I need to go, I guess I'll figure it out later, huh? Like I said, magic is soo overrated."

But after he left I found myself staring at the door. He's right. There was magic in that watch, definitely, I could feel it. Even if it was just a hint, it was there and he was her. I'm not sure what that means, maybe it means nothing at all, or maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic dreaming that I'm living in a fairytale and I've met my prince charming...

Faba stood before her fires, losing herself amongst the dancing flames, letting their light reveal snatches of the world beyond. The flue flames cackling and spitting, telling her of what was to come, telling her that the world was changing. Not only the one she once called home, but all of the worlds, every where.

The balance was shifting and it was impossible to tell which way it was shifting. Good? Bad? That's all a matter of perspective, isn't it? Change was neither but it was always inevitable.

In this case, her focus was on the girl called Gracelyn. Faba had been tasked with watching her for some time as she was exiled due to the punishment of her parents. Innocence, caught in the wrongdoings of another, she knew the story all too well, but Faba wasn't interested in Gracelyn's past, it was her future. Her potential a flame waiting to ignite, but who would spark the match?

"So, did it work?" Simeon asked, fixed on the mirror above the fireplace and on both of their reflections. To him, the fire didn't have magic, he never quite understood what Faba saw in it but he was no seer. She could read it as if it were a book.

"Maybe," she mumbles, still lost in its tales. "Time will tell."

"Faba..." Simeon's voice was low in warning. "A lot is riding on this, everything is riding on this, will the two pair?" He didn't need to speak their names, no, there was power in names and when one speaks yours they tie your destiny to you and he wanted to keep Gracelyn's fate far from his own. At least for now.

According to Faba, Gracelyn had several possible futures and according to her she was doing all she could to nudge her down the most preferable one. Like some twisted fairytale she had manipulated Niklas' watch, speeding up time, speeding up his fate. He was meant to meet her, Faba did see that, but it was a little later in her life, not now. Niklas was a protege of Simeon, a promising one at that, she just hoped this would be best for the both of them.

"Well?" Simeon asked, desperate. His plan was simple but...

"Time isn't linear, Simeon, you know that," she said, not turning to look back at him because she thought this plan was rash and foolish. "They have met, that much I know. What happens now I cannot say."