#magnor

Catarina placed a mug of scalding tea and a plate of biscuits in front of him and he raised a sardonic eyebrow at her. ‘You’re not my mother, you know.’

‘No, I am your host while you’re in this house. I understand you’re unfamiliar with the concept since you put minimal effort into making people feel welcome in your home, but I intend to do a good job.’

It was probably the wrong time for Ragnor to point out that he didn’t drink tea. That he never drank tea other than when he was at Catarina’s. That if she was a good host she would know that.

She seemed to sense that he was thinking something impolite, even if she didn’t know exactly what, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Ragnor picked up his cup and took a long, placatory sip. There was too much sugar in it, and he tried not to wince at the sweetness.

‘You’re always like this,’ Catarina said. There was a weariness in her voice. She pulled out a chair and sat down beside him with her own cup of tea. ‘Every time he goes away, you’re always like this.’

She didn’t say his name, but Ragnor knew she was talking about Magnus. He felt a strong urge to simply get up and leave, as he did every time Magnus was brought up in conversation. ‘Like what?’

‘You’ve always been grumpy,’ Catarina said. ‘But whenever Magnus goes away, you become downright unpleasant. It’s like you want everyone to hate you.’

‘I didn’t say anything!’

‘You were thinking it. I can tell by the way you were looking at me. You were assessing what might happen if you said it out loud. If it was worth it.’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘Because I know you, Ragnor.’

Ragnor had no response to this. He took another sip of tea, not bothering to mask his wince this time.

‘Too much sugar?’

‘Too much tea. If you really know me so well, you’d know that I hate tea.’

Catarina sighed heavily. ‘He’ll come back.’

‘It’s been over a year.’

‘He’s been gone longer than two years before. He’ll come back. He always does.’

Ragnor drank more tea so that he wouldn’t say what he wanted to say. That just because Magnus came back last time, and the time before that, didn’t mean he always would. Maybe one day he just got tired of being here, tired of the people around him, tired of Ragnor, and he left and never looked back. Or maybe he left with the intention of coming back but then he found something better. Someone better.

There were no guarantees.

‘I know that deep down you don’t really want to make everyone hate you,’ Catarina said. Her voice was quiet, as if she were standing by someone’s sickbed. ‘I think you believe you deserve to be hated so you push everyone away. But that’s not really what you want.’

‘What makes you think that?’

The corners of Catarina’s lips twitched into a smile. Just a small one. ‘You’re still drinking the tea, aren’t you?’

When Ragnor returned home, he kicked off his shoes, not caring where they landed. His mouth still tasted of the cloying over-sweetened tea. He had drank all of it, and he regretted every swallow.

He went straight over to the liquor cabinet in his living room, took down a bottle of whiskey and a glass, poured a small measure of amber liquid. He downed it in one swallow. It was just to get rid of the taste of the tea, that was all. He told himself that as he poured another glass and downed that too. He poured one more glass and then slumped down onto the couch opposite the large aquarium.

He scowled at the fish as he took a smaller sip this time. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Catarina had said; how easily she saw right through him.

If she knows me that well, can read me so easily, what else does she know?

He never dared to bring up the subject and Catarina never gave any hint that she knew how he truly felt. But still. She knew everything else, was it so unreasonable that she’d figured that out too?

I think you believe you deserve to be hated so you push everyone away.

And where exactly was she wrong? He had no answer to that.

Ragnor leaned over to the coffee table to snatch something up. He had taken it from Magnus’ apartment on the day he had discovered Magnus was gone. One of his rings. Not a favourite, if Magnus had not chosen to wear it when he left. He seemed to have taken very little with him. Still, it was probably enough to track him with. It would be easy to do. To close his fist around it, to let his magic engulf it, to think of Magnus and then reach out to him. He came close to doing it plenty of times, even coming so far as to start the spell. But he always stopped before he reached a conclusion, before finding out where Magnus had gone.

It’s an invasion of privacy, Ragnor told himself. Magnus didn’t tell me where he was going so I shouldn’t pry.

He only went on holiday, Ragnor told himself. He’ll laugh at me – think I’m clingy – if I had to go looking for him before he came home.

But those were lies. Those were things he told Catarina every time she suggested tracking Magnus if he was so miserable about him leaving, along with a derisive snort and a sarcastic comment about being the opposite of miserable that Magnus had left. Lies that Catarina most likely saw right through, like she always did.

There was no point lying to himself.

The truth was that he was scared he would go looking for Magnus and find only anger and disgust. I left to get away from you. Magnus might say. From your complaining and your self-pity. I left because your misery is infectious and I don’t want it to rub off on me. I can do better. I deserve better.

‘Yeah,’ Ragnor said softly to the empty room. ‘You do.’

He finished the rest of his whiskey and then went up to bed, the ring still clutched in his hand.

Bright light suddenly poured into the bedroom, bright enough to wake Ragnor up. He groaned without opening his eyes, pulling the blanket up over his head. His whole body ached and nausea gripped his stomach.

Someone tugged the blanket back and he groaned again, trying to shield his eyes with his arm.

‘Jesus, how much did you drink last night?’ Catarina asked. ‘You’ve been avoiding me.’

‘There’s a reason,’ Ragnor mumbled.

There was a depression in the mattress that meant Catarina had sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘Because you’re a misery guts, that’s the reason.’ She spoke with unusual brightness. It was far too early and Ragnor was far too hungover for that, but when she spoke again it got his attention. ‘I have news.’

‘News about what?’ Ragnor opened his eyes at last, wincing at the morning sunlight. Catarina had thrown open the heavy drapes and opened the window to air the room out. It probably needed it; the lingering stench of alcohol was overbearing. He wasn’t usually much of a heavy drinker, but he seemed to be drinking more and more over the two years since Magnus’ disappearance.

Catarina was looking over at him, an excited gleam in her eyes. In her hands was an envelope. Even in this state, Ragnor was able to recognise the handwriting; he would recognise it anywhere. Magnus’.

He sat up too quickly and his head swam. Catarina put a steadying hand on his shoulder, but for a moment he was sure he was going to vomit. The feeling passed after a couple of seconds and Catarina seemed sure he was going to be okay because she let go of him and held up the envelope.

‘I haven’t opened it yet. I thought we could read it together.’

What if it’s bad news? Ragnor thought. What’s if he’s in trouble?

Catarina smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes. ‘If he needed help, we would know. There are faster ways for him to get in touch with us.’

Ragnor simply nodded and then watched as Catarina split open the seal and pulled out a thin sheaf of paper. It was covered in small, cramped writing, and it was addressed only to Catarina. There was a brief greeting, asking how Catarina had been and if Ragnor was still as miserable as ever. You have no idea, he thought sourly. The rest was dedicated to details of Magnus’ adventures over the last two years, where he had been, who he had met, the trouble he had gotten up to. He ended it by saying he wasn’t sure when he was coming home, and then signed his name with a very dramatic flourishing signature.

‘There, see! He’s fine. And he said he’s coming home.’

‘He said he didn’t know when he was coming home.’

‘Which still implies that he intends to at some point,’ Catarina said with a dismissive shrug.

Ragnor’s nausea had returned, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the hangover this time. He kept staring at the top of the letter, at Catarina’s name. Magnus had only bothered to write to Catarina, and had only mentioned Ragnor once, very briefly, in the whole letter.

‘I think I’ll go back to sleep for a while,’ Ragnor said. ‘Maybe I’ll feel better when I wake up.’

Catarina folded the letter up and carefully returned it to the envelope. She left the envelope on the bedside table when she stood up and made for the door, but she paused and turned back before leaving.

‘I don’t think the hangover is what you’re concerned with, Ragnor. The real problem isn’t the kind of thing you can just sleep off.’ She left the room without explaining. She didn’t need to.

Ragnor lay back down, pulling the blanket around him. The room felt like it was spinning around him, but he kept his eyes fixed on Magnus’ letter beside the bed. Catarina had left it for him, but it wasn’t his. If he was supposed to have it, Magnus would have addressed it to him. Maybe Magnus really had gone to get away from him, that didn’t mean he was going to let Catarina suffer too.

He reached out to the bedside table, but instead of taking hold of the letter he pulled open one of the drawers and groped around inside until his fingers closed around something metal. He pulled it out, a delicate golden chain with a ring hung on the end. Magnus’ ring. Magnus’ fingers were much more slender than Ragnor’s and the ring didn’t fit him, so he had taken to wearing it around his neck instead. He was relieved he hadn’t still been wearing it while Catarina was there.

He slipped the chain over his head, careful not to catch it on his horns, and then closed his hand around the ring. It felt familiar in his hand by now, and gradually he drifted back off to sleep.

He almost ignored the ringing phone. He rarely answered it – most of the people he cared to talk to could get in touch with him using other methods if they really needed to – but the damn thing just kept ringing. With a grumble of annoyance, Ragnor seized the receiver.

‘This had better be important,’ he snapped.

‘Am I interrupting your very hectic social life, dear?’

Ragnor froze at the sound of that voice. ‘Magnus?’

‘Who were you expecting?’ As if he hadn’t vanished without a word for over two years. ‘I was wondering if you could maybe come round to help me unpack?’

You took almost nothing with you, how much have you brought back?

Why can’t you use magic for that?

‘Whatever.’

Ragnor hung up the phone and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Magnus was back, and acting like he’d only been gone a few days. Two and a half years wasn’t really much to an old immortal, but it still depended on how those immortals felt during that time.

Ragnor’s hand went to the ring hanging around his neck, closed around it.

I should tell him. He probably doesn’t feel the same, but I’ll never know unless I tell him.

He took off the necklace and left it on his coffee table as he portaled away from his home to see Magnus.

Magnus had left with almost nothing and had returned with three suitcases full of new clothes and jewellery and books and other trinkets.

‘Did you see the letter I sent to Catarina?’ Magnus asked as he emptied one of these suitcases out onto his couch, creating a mountain of brightly coloured silks and satins.

‘She showed me.’

‘Good! I didn’t think there was any sense in writing to both of you, when I’d just be telling you the same thing.’

‘You could have at least addressed the letter to both of us.’

Magnus paused, looking thoughtful. ‘Actually, that never occurred to me. Good point.’

It was just a mistake, Ragnor thought. He didn’t intentionally forget you.

‘Anyway, did you miss me?’ Magnus’s eyes glittered as if he knew exactly what Ragnor was going to say to that.

Ragnor opened his mouth to respond. I love you. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue, words he had never dared to speak in decades, centuries even.

I love you.

But his ever-present self-loathing thoughts immediately kicked in. If you tell him that and he doesn’t feel the same, you’ll ruin everything. Your entire friendship. Maybe next time he won’t come back because you made everything too awkward.

‘I didn’t realise you needed this long to come up with your insults. You must have been out of practice while I was away,’ Magnus mused, a smile curling his lips. That smile was beautiful. Ragnor had missed it. Maybe if he just kissed him instead—

'You could have stayed away longer and I wouldn’t have noticed,’ Ragnor said with a shrug.

Magnus rolled his eyes but that smile was still there, it was exactly what he had expected. ‘Of course you would say that. Would it really kill you to tell me you loved me once in a while?’ He turned to sort through the mountain of clothing on his couch and the moment was gone.

Magnus’ father had bought him two tickets to Ireland for his birthday and he opted to bring his best friend, Ragnor Fell, the extremely grumpy teenager who was currently sitting next to him on the train. The first flaw to his plan was bringing Ragnor. The second one was lack of research. During an Art History class, Magnus had learned that Ireland’s ancient ruins had treasure buried deep inside them… His plan was to find that treasure. There was a legend behind it that only the most pure of heart and luckiest souls could ever lay eyes on it. Magnus was fairly certain that was him. His third flaw was not considering how cold it was in Ireland…

Ragnor groaned as he stood in a giant green field. He couldn’t understand how just four hours ago he was freezing and now he was roasting. Oh, how he missed being at how already.

Magnus was having fun walking around with a map in his hands. They had gone around in eight full circles already.

“Oh,” Magnus grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “The map was upside down.”

Ragnor wasn’t sure if his friend was acting stupid to hurt him personally or if the heat was just getting to his head. Either way, Ragnor was regretting all the decisions that had led him up to this point in his life.

After about three hours, Magnus grinned and pointed at a large ruin on top of a hill.

“That’s it! It looks so cool.”

“That’s it? That’s a Promontary fort. The Celts built them on hills so they could see the attacking armies coming. It’s nothing we couldn’t look up online at home.” Ragnor sighed, watching as Magnus ran off ahead of him. He followed after him, already exhausted.

“We should go in.” Magnus suggested, looking down into a hole in the ground, which seemingly led to an underground passageway.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Ragnor was cut-off by Magnus jumping right in, “Oh, my God!!” The older of the two yelled, running forward and dropping to his knees to call out for his friend. “Magnus! Are you okay?” He felt his shoulders tense after he heard a loud bang.

“I think I’m good.” Replied a shaky voice. “I think I broke my arm.”

“That’s not ‘good’.” Ragnor groaned, quickly looking around for another way down. Leaving Magnus alone for too long was obviously a terrible idea. He found an entrance a few metres away from the hole. It was a small stairway that had been built into the ground. There were white arrows pointing downwards on the walls. After a brief moment of suspicion, he ran down the steps to help Magnus.

“Magnus, where did you go?” He yelled, frowning when he heard his voice echo.

“I’m right here.” His friend said back, appearing right behind him, his hand holding his elbow. It didn’t look like he had broken his arm which was definitely good.

“Well… Unfortunately, you’re still alive.” Ragnor failed at trying to sound upset, he just came off as worried. Which Magnus found cute. “Now where are you going?”

“Exploring. You can stay here if you’d like.” With that, Magnus walked by Ragnor and disappeared into the shadows.

In all honestly, Ragnor would have preferred to go back to the hotel and forget about all of this… But he didn’t like the idea of returning to home alone and trying to explain what had happened to Magnus’ parents.

He followed, while internally sobbing.

For the next few hours they ‘explored’. At this stage it was getting dark and Ragnor could hardly even see Magnus in front of him. This whole ‘adventure’ was far too dangerous for his liking. Ragnor wanted to suggest going back to the hotel and returning in the morning, but he knew Magnus. That wouldn’t work.

They were both getting tired and cranky (Ragnor more than usual, which was a lot to deal with). Magnus was getting impatient and stomped on the ground, like a child throwing a bit of a tantrum. They both went completely silent when the heard a low creak. Ragnor seen his life flash before his eyes, then looked up to meet his friend’s eyes. Then, the ground cracked beneath their feet.

Dust went everywhere, rocks and dirt all over the pair. Ragnor sat up, coughing loudly and rubbing his eyes. He made a promise to himself to never go anywhere with Magnus again. Then, he opened his eyes and his jaw dropped.

“Magnus! Get up. We actually found it!” It was the most emotion Magnus had ever heard in Ragnor’s voice, so he did actually respond. The younger of the two groaned and began whining until he sees piles of gold directly ahead of him. His heart skipped a beat and he looked over to his friend before loudly announcing, “We’re going to be rich! We actually found it!”

Magnus excitedly grabbed Ragnor’s arm, staggered to his feet and then dragged him over to the treasure.

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered softly, taking a handful and holding it to his chest like it was something very precious to him.

It was the middle of the night so they decided on sleeping next to the gold. Again, Magnus never really had the best ideas, but Ragnor just went with it, far too tired to argue.

 Ragnor opened his eyes the next morning, looking over at his friend fondly. After some time of watching him sleep, he woke him up. It was about time they got out of there.

They found an easy way out of the underground maze. Both of them held large bags of gold over their shoulders and to Ragnor’s surprise, it wasn’t overly heavy… It wasn’t until they were almost outside that the Ragnor began to grow suspicious again. He reached forward to take the golden crown Magnus had put on his head, sighing after he examined it.

“Well, Magnus, was it worth it?” He inquired, sighing as he placed the crown back on his friend’s head.

“Definitely! We’re rich, Ragnor. We also had a lot of bonding time, which was great. Perhaps we should spend more time together.” He beamed back, smiling when he seen the sun.

Ragnor sighed once again, almost feeling bad for his friend as he looked at the words engraved on the back of the crown he was wearing: