#thread: zack

Winter clung to her like a second skin. The further Cairn walked through the forest, the more the cold seemed to follow. She kept going anyway, drawn by the faintest things, a sound that didn’t belong, the sense of someone else nearby. Not loud. Not sharp. Just… patterned. Something that rose and fell like words being shaped without a tongue. Cairn angled toward it, stepping through undergrowth dulled by frost. The forest thinned ahead, moonlight peeking through the last row of trees. Someone was there.

And then the warmth hit her. It bloomed in her chest first, a quiet thrum like something waking up beneath her ribs. For a heartbeat she thought it was fear, fear sometimes felt hot, but this was gentler, heavier, spreading outward like someone blew on an ember to ignite a flame. Her fingers tingled. Her jaw loosened. The cold she’d been carrying all day finally eased. Then light followed. A soft glow began at her fingertips, thin as candlelight, then drifted up her arms. It wasn’t bright, just enough that the snow reflected it back in pale gold. Cairn stared at her own hands, stunned.

“...Uh.” The sound left her before she knew she’d made it. Half-breath, half-question. Another pulse of warmth rolled through her, strong enough that she shifted her stance, a branch snapping softly under her heel. Too loud. Too close for whoever was in front of her to miss. Cairn froze in place, faintly lit from within like a misplaced star caught among the trees, watching as the person finally turned toward her.

—

Normally, Zack avoided any place particularly flammable when practicing magic – that’s why he favored the beach. But that particular evening, he wasn’t working on his natural fire abilities. Once more, he was taking his first steps into spell-casting that didn’t come so innately to him. Protection magic seemed like the simplest, and the least likely to go haywire. He wasn’t relying on influencer witches any longer. Zack had a good feeling that, with Rosemary as his guide, he would be able to get the spells right this time. So, he was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the Pines, hoping for privacy, if nothing else. 

One of the most incredible things to learn was the use of magical ingredients. Zack had felt a little bad about using parts of creatures, about the poaching that must go on. He didn’t fully understand the ecosystem yet, and was trying to reserve judgement until he knew better. For now, he had a plate from a lindworm in front of him, holding powdered gashadokuro bones and Zippo. The fire salamander was not an ingredient, of course, but rather a magic amplifier – Zack’s familiar.

He still felt silly trying when it came to magic. His abilities had always just…come about. Yes, at mostly inconvenient or dangerous times but actively putting his will out into the world felt strangely vulnerable. And embarrassing. Still, he worked at the protection spell, relying on the strength of the lindworm plate, the impenetrability of the goshadokuro’s bones, and the pure magical power within Zippo. And then, Zack realized that he couldn’t be sure if the spell had worked. Maybe he could try to get hurt? Not a great plan…

A snapped branch somewhere behind him distracted him, though. Zack picked up Zippo but left the other spell elements as he ventured toward the sound. “Hello?” he called out. Not far from where he had been working, he saw a warm glow through the trees. Getting closer, he found it was a young woman who was emitting a low light from all over her body. Immediately, Zack thought of the movie Starlight. He wouldn’t doubt that a place like Wicked’s Rest would be the landing site for a falling star. “Are you all right?” he asked, trailing closer. “Does that…hurt?”

—

Cairn froze for a moment, the glow trembling over her skin like a soft pulse. She hadn’t meant for anyone to see her, but this warmth, this light… it was different. It wrapped around her like a cloak, thick and gentle, spreading outward until even the trees seemed softer, edges blurred in pale gold. She blinked and realized she could see him clearly, the tall figure stepping toward her, features sharp even through the dim forest. Dark hair, broad shoulders, the quiet intensity of someone who belonged in the space he claimed. She didn’t know him, hadn’t the faintest idea who he was, but something about his presence felt… safe, in the way the warmth made her chest settle.

“No,” she said softly, voice barely more than a breath. Then she let out a huff of air, something amused and surprised, and her glow flickered with it. “It… it doesn’t hurt,” she added, tilting her head as if that explained everything. “It’s… warm.” Warm like the sun on her back, warm like water in the rivers she hadn’t seen in years. Warmer than she remembered ever feeling from anyone. It spread through her chest, through her arms, through her legs, and it was… comforting. Like something pressing close and holding her steady. Something Cairn hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Maybe not ever.

Cairn’s eyes traced the curve of his shoulders, the shape of his posture and she felt the impulse to close the distance, even just a little. The glow pulsed softly and finally, with a tentative tilt of her head, she whispered, “Are… you making this?” Surely something so warm wasn’t coming from her.

__

Zack was relieved to hear that the other person was okay. Warm… He had always known that his powers could affect the temperature, of course. Fire tended to do that. It was just that it often shot right past warmth and into the more dangerous levels of heat. Arson-levels. Like the fire that had ripped through his adoptive family’s home, and that had blazed through the vampires that had kidnapped him, turning them to dust. That’s why he was so eager to learn other magic, so he could do something good. But could his fire magic be for good? He hadn’t every though of it as being able to provide the same gentle comfort he felt from Zippo, when the salamander was curled up on his chest in a little ball of warmth.

He had certainly never made anything glow, at any rate. He wondered whether it had something to do with his own tendencies, or if he had gotten something wrong with the spell ingredients. He would have to ask Rosemary (and maybe accept some chastisement for attempting such a spell in the first place). “I think so, yeah,” he answered. There was a wry smile over his face, that he hoped conveyed that he hadn’t meant to do whatever this was. “I’m really sorry. I was…practicing. It was supposed to be a protection spell, but I must have gotten something wrong.” Obviously. He was glad that whatever had happened had swerved the spell in this direction, rather than the fireball direction. That would have been a disaster.

“Here, do you want to come with me? The ingredients are just a little ways off. I think I can probably get it to….stop?” At least he hoped so. All in all, glowing like a little star wasn’t all too bad, but it would certainly get some attention. “Um, I’m Zack, by the way.” He indicated to his shoulder, where Zippo was clinging, “And this is Zippo.”

—

Cairn listened carefully, head tilted as he spoke, as if the words themselves had weight she needed to feel before she understood them. Fire. Protection. Practice. Some of it slid past her, but the shape of what he meant settled anyway. He was trying and learning and not intending any harm—and Cairn knew very well what that felt like.

“The warmth, it’s… nice.” Another small huff of breath escaped her, almost a laugh, surprised all over again by the way the warmth kept holding. “I was cold before. Really cold.” She pressed a hand briefly to her chest, fingers shining faintly through her coat. “This feels better.”

Her eyes followed his gesture to the salamander on his shoulder, curiosity sharpening. She had come across others like it before and to see one accompany him stirred a genuine interest in her. A salamander for companionship? And it had a name… At his offer Cairn hesitated only a beat. The idea of it stopping made something in her chest tighten, not fear exactly, just reluctance, but she trusted the tone of his voice more than the thought itself.

“Okay,” she said simply. “If you think you can.” Then, softer, honest, “I don’t mind it, but I don’t want it to… cause trouble.” There was already so much in her that seemed to unnerve others that she wasn’t sure if this would make her any less… unappealing. She took a step closer, glow brightening just enough to paint his silhouette in gold, and nodded once. “I’m Cairn.” Her gaze flicked back to the salamander, curious again. “And… Zippo,” she repeated, careful with the name, like it mattered to get it right.

__

Zack’s smile spread as she assured him that it was nice. Maybe he had gotten the spell completely wrong, but it had been nice. He had done something good for someone. Even though it had saved him and his friends, setting the barn full of vampires up in a blaze hadn’t felt good. It had felt violent and out of control and dangerous. This was different. “In that case, I’m glad.” 

His eyes followed the movement of her hand, her palm over her chest and the faint glow leaking out around it. “But I still think we should maybe try to stop it. Just because I don’t know if it might end up hurting you.” The fact of the matter was, Zack didn’t actually know how he had caused this with his spell. He wasn’t too skilled at magic, but even he knew that probably wasn’t good. Even if there was something incredibly sweet about the strange girl in the woods, glowing. 

He led her the short distance back to where he had been conducting the spell, where the lindworm plate and gashadokuro bone powder were. Except now, the powdered bones were glowing faintly, just as Cairn was. “Oh! That wasn’t doing that a second ago.” At least that more or less confirmed that his spell had caused her little illumination display. Which meant that he could probably fix it for her.

“I think it should be pretty simple?” At least he hoped. “I should just have to…sever the magic from the components?” He hoped he sounded a lot more confident than he felt in that. Or at least more confident in what that would even mean. Maybe just…reversing what he had done in the first place. “If anything starts to hurt let me know. I mean, it shouldn’t! But if it does, I’ll stop.” God, if he were Cairn he would really be doubting his ability right now… 

Zack focused on the task at hand: He first carefully gathering up all the gashadokuro dust and held it close to his chest in his cupped hands. Where he had earlier focused on the stability and protection of the bones in their original form, he now concentrated on the fact that they were powdered. Ground down, entirely separate. Like many disparate grains of magic, dispersing. Struck by inspiration, he let the dust scatter through his fingers so that it drifted away on the wind, still glowing faintly. “Do you…feel anything?” He asked Cairn.

— Cairn followed in silence, unsure how she felt about his insistence that this was something they needed to fix, that something could go wrong. Could he feel it too? The embedded wrongness in her that had the tendency to create more problems. Then again, magic was not something Cairn was familiar with firsthand. Of course, her pama had told her about it. How it had its rules, how it came at a cost—things that cemented in Cairn that it was not something to be handled lightly. Yet, Zack had. Cairn noted but remained silent of his choice of words, the hesitation in his tone. 

She watched as he scattered the glowing dust, like embers that slowly dimmed and vanished into the night. She wasn’t expecting a question and her eyes flicked to him then down at herself. Nope. Still glowing. “Still warm.” She muttered as she moved to take a seat beside him. She understood his line of thinking, if the glowing dust scattered, so would hers. But, as her pama had told her, there were rules. Magic had its way of making it seem rules didn’t apply, bringing dead back to life, turning one thing into something else entirely, but Cairn believed in what she was taught. While it was magic that made her glow, a light needed a source, a light and warmth had limited energy to take. Like a match, she believed she too would burn out. It would just take time.

“I don’t think this light will vanish like dust. It might take time.” Cairn had been encountering many firsts since coming into town, yet she still believed in her pama’s teachings. Patterns were everywhere, she just had to figure out which pattern applied to a new situation. “Can you tell me how you did… this?” She raised her arms and looked down at herself. It was clear it wasn’t his intention, but maybe if he retraced his steps, he could pick up something he might have missed, figure out where it may have gone wrong—or right. Out on a cold winter night, light and warmth were exactly what one needed to keep themselves safe.

—

Zack smiled softly as Cairn updated him. Still warm. It was bad news for his attempts to break whatever spell he had cast, but he couldn’t help but be pleased that she was still reaping benefits from his magic. At least he was doing someone good. “And still doesn’t hurt or anything right?” That was the most important part of this. As long as whatever he did wasn’t hurting Cairn. Even if it took time, as she suggested, to fade off.

Cairn’s question was a smart one – retracing his steps could help Zack discover if he had done something wrong. “Okay. Well. This is the plate from a lindworm, they’re like these big worms with armor over them. The plates are basically unbreakable,” here he knocked against the scale-shaped component, “so that was the base for my spell. And then, there’s Zippo. He’s a fire salamander, and my familiar. So he helps me with my magic.” Another thing Zack didn’t actually understand the workings of. “And then there was that gashadokuro bone dust. They’re…massively fucking scary, actually. But their bones are impenetrable to most weapons, so I thought that would help the protection spell.” 

Zack trailed a finger through the residue of the bone dust that had settled on the lindworm plate. As he did, though, something caught his eye. It was…wrong. Or not wrong, but different from what he thought it should look like. Less like bone dust and more like… “Oh,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Well that was catastrophically stupid of him, but it maybe explained how they had gotten here. His eyes flickered over to Cairn. “I think I may have messed up the ingredients I was supposed to use.” Not gashadokuro bone dust, after all, but žiburini essence, from the strange, skull-shaped will-o’-the-wisps. “Have you heard of will-o’-the-wisps? I think this,” he held up his hand, where the dust shimmered over his fingertips, “is from a kind of them. They glow, so…” Between that and Zack’s innate pyromancy… His protection spell had become something else. And Cairn was glowing for it. “The good news is, none of that should harm you?”

—

Cairn gave a shake of her head, letting Zack know it was currently painless, not much of a sensation other than the warmth that had settled nicely into her chest and limbs and her eyes had adjusted to the brightness radiating from her. The only real inconvenience was its proximity. She could already tell if the glow lingered it might make sleeping quite difficult. She listened intently to Zack explaining his “spell”, Cairn felt her heart pick up at learning something like this from someone who practiced. She wondered what her pama would think.

Her eyes moved from the plate to the dust, then to the small fire salamander of his shoulder. Cairn had thought, briefly, that because he seemed uncertain initially, he might have also been uncertain about what he used. However, the way laid it all out to her, showed the exact logic he was following. The spell had layers. Purpose. He knew what each thing did, even if he didn’t yet trust himself to say it with certainty. And when he got that look in his eyes, like something finally clicked, Cairn couldn’t help the small curl of her lips at seeing him figure it out. Cairn followed his eyes to the dust.

At the mention of will-o-wisps, Cairn’s eyes sharpened in recognition. If a light walks, don’t follow it, pebble. Real fires stay put. Her pama had warned her about moving lights in the woods. To trust in her own light and not anything else. “I know them.” She said quietly. “They move. They pull.” She looked down at herself, then back to Zack. However, the warmth inside her stayed steady. It didn’t tug at her. It didn’t make her feel drawn to any other place. And neither, she noticed, did it affect Zack. “You changed it.” Cairn uttered, with a hint of awe in her voice. “You took all of their… pieces and made them into something new. Something safe.” Her gaze lingered on him now, not the ingredients, not her glow, just him. “You turned something that leads others to danger, into something that stays.” While making the warmth and glow wasn’t his intention, the creation of it was still something to be regarded. “What were you trying to protect?” Cairn wondered aloud with a tilt of her head. ____

Zack picked up on the apprehension in Cairn at the mention of will-o-the-wisps and he couldn’t blame her. They were definitely dangerous if encouraged out in the wild. Powdered down into a spell component, though, they were mostly harmless. At least, they were as long as the spell was powerless. He supposed they could be used in some kind of spell made to lead someone away from their own original will… He would have to ask Rosemary about that. “You’re right,” he assured her, not wanting her to get complacent with the wild ones. “And they’re definitely not to be messed with if you see one out in the woods.”

The awe over Cairn’s face… It was more than awe, Zack would almost call it veneration (if he knew a word that big). “I…guess I did.” It took effort not to deflect that look in her eyes, to tell her about Rosemary’s tutelage, or that it was all just the natural magic, nothing to do with him. But the fact was, he had chosen the elements and willed it toward something else, and that something else had happened. Not exactly as he intended, obviously but— A smile came to his face, broad and bright. “It’s not exactly what I meant, but yeah. It’s… That’s kind of what magic is. Kinda like baking I guess.” He laughed at the imagery, but it seemed fitting to him. Would Rosemary, with her necromancy agree? He couldn’t be sure. “That’s a really nice way of putting it, though. Thank you.” The knot of guilt and shame that had come to his stomach, from hitting Cairn with his accidental magic, loosened some.

“Oh, nothing in particular.” He gestured around himself, to indicate his own little bubble. “Me, I guess. I was just practicing really.” Hopefully she wouldn’t be worried by the fact that he was such a novice. “I could try a counter-spell.” Now that he knew what had actually gone into the spell and caused all this, there might be some element he could use as a light dampener or dimmer… But that felt dangerous. What if the magic misinterpreted light and took Cairn’s life force? No, definitely had to go with reversing the spell he had made. As above, so below. “But reversing this one is safer.”

—

“Have you encountered them in the woods?” Was that how Zack had managed to gather the necessary materials? Or was this something others hunted and gathered for witches like him? She paused, looking him over. “I’ve lived in the woods all my life until recently… I’ve only seen them once, but I remember what my parent taught me.” Her eyes drifted from him as she recalled her memory. “So I stayed on the path.” Her pama had gotten sick and needed water fresh from the river to starve the fever and on the way back Cairn had seen little flickers of light off in the distance. Too far to fully make it out, but close enough that Cairn wondered if she had made a wrong turn and those were embers from the fire at the shelter. She never told her pama, worried she wouldn’t be trusted to be on her own again.

Baking was a concept Cairn understood, recalling the food Hazel had prepared for them and thinking of the recipes that Hazel had gifted her. It all started to click in place for her. If you gather all the ingredients, put them in some kind of pot… Cairn supposed the only difference between baking and magic had to be that magic was fueled by something other than heat. Something not everyone possessed. “But I already ate it.” Cairn responded, still caught up on his baking comparison. “You made it. I ate it.” She looked down at her glow, then back up to Zack. “What if I just have to… let it pass?”

Of course, Cairn was no expert. If Zack felt reversing was the best option, then she wouldn’t argue. She wasn’t arguing to begin with, simply following the logic he was giving her. Magic was like baking. It created someone that once consumed it would be gone. It wasn’t permanent and neither was magic… right? She sat down, right on the snow and sure enough it started to show signs of melting. Not immediately like putting a flame to ice, but it was steady. As she gathered some in her hands, she hardly felt the bite of the cold. She looked up at Zack, catching sight of the familiar on his shoulder. “Can I touch him? Zippo?” Cairn could recall the last reptile she managed to grab a hold of. It was merely to see if she was fast enough to grab it and she let it go as quickly as her hands closed around it. —

Zack shook his head, thankful that he could say he didn’t have any personal experience with will-o’-the-wisp. Or any of the creatures that his spell elements came from. Cairn, it seemed, was hardier than she looked if she had been able to ward off their pull. “Glad you made it out of there intact.” He wondered about her, or her parent at least. Were they supernatural? Or just in the know. 

“Sure!” he said, finding a smile. He lifted the salamander from his shoulder and held him out for Cairn to take. “He’s really chill, don’t worry. Just don’t squeeze him and he’ll be happy to just let you hold him.” The smile that had found his face faded to a grimace as Cairn asked about letting her body just…metabolize the spell, like a baked good. “That’s not…really how magic works, unfortunately.” There were some spells, he thought, that could disperse over time, or once the caster’s concentration was broken. Protection spells would degrade, eventually. But Zack couldn’t be sure what exactly this spell was. It was safer to get rid of it than risk whatever the long-term effects may be.

“Okay, just.. Okay.” Maybe he had fucked it up, actually, by dispersing the žiburini dust too early but. That was okay. He could do this. Magic was at least twenty-five percent art. He hoped. “I’m going to do the steps backward and focus on taking the warmth away from you.” He winced at how that sounded and sent Cairn an apologetic half-smile. “And then if that doesn’t work, we’ll…wait. And I’ll take you to my friend, who knows more about magic than me. Worse comes to worse, she’ll definitely know what to do.” He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Rosemary shouldn’t have to clean up his messes.

Zack took Zippo back and placed him carefully on the lip of the lindworm plate. All the elements there, now. Reversing how he had put the spell together, Zack coaxed a billow of steam from his familiar and settled him away in his pocket. He cast his hand over the scant residue that remained of the žiburini essence. And then, an addition, but he thought it fit the needs of the undoing: he scooped up a handful of snow from the ground and used it to scrub the plate clean. Not only did it ensure that all the elements were cleaned away, it introduced some chill to counteract the warmth of his accidental spell.

When he looked up, he was relieved to find the glow around Cairn was fading some, dimming in the dappled light. “Hey, I think I did it!” It was a strangely bittersweet feeling. He was proud, and relieved, that he had been able to successfully unwind his magic from the girl. But… The spell had provided her some kind of comfort, it seemed. For the first time, really, Zack had done good with his magic. He was sad to see that end. “How are you feeling?”

—

Cairn took Zippo carefully into her hands. Warmth bled through her gloves, steady and alive and she brought him closer for a better look. He was an interesting creature—nothing like she had ever come across. Aside from the glowing embers threaded through his scales, he might have passed for an ordinary reptile. Almost. She ran a gloved hand gingerly along his side. For a moment, she wished she could remove the gloves, feel him property—skin to skin—but hesitated. He had no fur to disappear into, no softness to cushion her touch. Would bare skin be welcome, or too much? She met the creature’s eyes instead, quiet and respectful, letting him set the terms of contact.

As Zack explained what he intended to do next and voiced his thoughts aloud, Cairn listened closely. She believed him. Trusted him—whether he realized that or not. If this didn’t work, they would find someone who knew more. That didn’t frighten her, it made sense. Cairn could remember what it was like to have someone to go to when you were unsure. The spell itself barely bothered her, but Zack’s urgency did. It made her wonder if there was something she wasn’t sensing. Could there be something dangerous in the warmth that made its home inside of her? She thought, briefly, of how wrong she felt sometimes. Off-kilter. As if there was something inside her that was made differently than she should have been. Was that why the spell backfired? Or worse—could Zack sense that leaving it alone would only let it grow into something they wouldn’t be able to control?

Without a word, she handed Zippo back. She drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes. On the exhale she felt a stream of cold air thread through her—clean and deliberate. She opened her eyes to meet Zack’s. “Colder,” Cairn answered simply. It wasn’t the bone deep chill she remembered from before the glow, but she felt its presence all the same. Like a fire that had once roared now shrinking down into a patient ember. The golden light was fading with, softening, dimming, giving her eyes time to readjust to the dark. Cairn was grateful it wasn’t sudden. Grateful for the chance to feel it leave, giving her a chance to acknowledge it and let it settle.

“You did it.” Cairn echoed, a faint smile touching her mouth as she stood. “You didn’t have to rush,” she added softly. “Unless you thought you should.” After all, Zack was the expert between the both of them. Still, her pama’s words stirred— when you trip in the woods, you stop first. Check yourself. Then move. A panic breaks more bones than falling. Zack hadn’t panicked and let it consume him. He’d noticed his mistake, sat with it, learned from it—and fixed it. “Have you been practicing magic your whole life?” The question came out quieter than she meant it to, threaded with something unfamiliar. A stillness that came when you realized you were standing near something careful and capable, and it made you want to stand a little steadier too.

—

Cairn confirmed that his reversal was working, that she was colder in addition to her glow fading. Once again, Zack was sorry to see it go. Pleased that he had managed the essential bit of magic, but… Well, he had set out to do a protection spell. Something that was positive and good and would provide. When his magic had only ever taken. It hadn’t gone the way he had meant it, but it still had been something good. Something more than just destruction and fear and pain. Something more than smoke and ash. 

“You can never be too careful,” Zack explained, “with a spell that isn’t what you expected.” Yes, Cairn had been warmed and glowy, but there was no telling what the spell might become. What it might eventually do, if left to its own devices. With the accidental ingredient, the magic hadn’t been entirely under his control. He was glad it gave the other the comfort that it had, while it had, but it was better safe than sorry. As if to compensate for the loss, Zack scooped Zippo up again and held him out for Cairn to hold.

“No.” His answer was just as soft back, regret threaded through. “Most spell-casters do, because it runs in the family. But I lost my family when I was young.” His family had been taken from him, as far as he was concerned, but that wasn’t a topic to explore with a stranger in the woods. Mustering up a smile, Zack clapped his hands together. “It’s cold out here. Do you like coffee or tea? Or hot chocolate? Least I can do, after making you my accidental guinea pig.” 

—

Cairn took in his words and felt the weight of his warning settle over her. She nodded like she’d the way she always had done when her pama gave her similar cautions—quietly and seriously. It was important. It mattered. And Cairn listened. Her eyes had drifted toward the treeline, but when Zack held out Zippo again, her eyes returned at once. A small smile touched her lips as she accepted the salamander, cradling him close. Warmth pulsed faintly through her gloves and she ran her hand carefully along his shape, slow and respectful, wondering if he enjoyed the contact. She thought about removing her glove to feel the heat of him directly, but hesitated. Maybe another time.

At Zack’s admission, Cairn lifted her eyes to him. For a moment, she didn’t know what to offer. So she gave the truth. “I don’t have family either.” It wasn’t said for pity. It was simple. Steady. An offered thread of understanding. You don’t have to explain. I know how that feels. The last of the warmth fully dissipated from Cairn’s chest and winter gathered around her again, not cruel, just inevitable, like an old companion resuming its post.