Prompt Short Story: Pride & Experimentation (Interviews with a Sorcerer #5)

CONTENT WARNING! Torture, towards the end; not explicit or detailed, affected text is under the +

Something I’m proud of, but that people don’t know about… I spent last week telling you all about the size of a sorcerer’s ego, and you want a heartwarming story I kept to myself? Getting kinda demanding, aren’t you?

Alright, if I answer this, I want something a bit lighter next time. Some of this isn’t going to be easy for you to hear, so please be prepared.

Yes, most of the time sorcerer’s are very intent on everyone (those who can, obviously) knowing how great they are. One of us helps an old lady carry a bag? Out goes a bulletin – and I mean that literally. We have something like a magical social network, that’s the best way I can describe it, anyway. Magic users all have the capability to connect in a sort of liminal space. It’s limited, difficult to access, costs a lot of energy to interact with, and we can’t talk and comment like your networks do, but it means we can share things if we want to. And anything that makes us look good? We want to share.

Except that sometimes, some things, no matter how good they might make us look, no matter how many points they might add to our reputation… Some things aren’t right to use for hyping yourself up.

I’m gonna tell you a tale nobody but those directly involved know. It was covered up so well even I can barely find the hints, so you are going to have to take my word on this because I’m not going to be giving you any info that you can use to go hunting. These people you’re going to hear about don’t need that. If I find anything coming back to me about you trying, that’s the very last you’ll hear from me.

You know what? I need wine for this. One sec.

Ah. Lovely. Much better. Brought the decanter, too. I’ll need it. And these extra couple of bottles. And yes, I pour red wine into a decanter. Trufax. Hahah! Sorry. Already questioning why I’m opening this box after so many years. I’m good. And don’t worry, I already spelled myself to not get drunk.

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Prompt Short Story: Young Love (Interviews with a Sorcerer #4)

Falling in love…so we’re hitting the deep question today, then? Alright.

It can be hard for a supernatural to love. Maybe you fall for a mundane, and either can’t tell them or have to break the rules. Maybe you fall for another supernatural, but their own kind has to come first. Maybe you fall for another of your own kind – that often works best, but for a sorcerer? Not so much. We’re about 80% ego on a good day – it’s just more than can fit into one relationship!

Why the ego? We spend our early years being molded into vessels of power, and the only way to be one of those is to never falter in your self-belief. You waver, things fail, and a failed spell is never pretty. So we have to be completely and utterly sure of ourselves just to learn magic. 

As we learn, our ego grows. Bigger, better, more powerful spells. We can’t learn them without being completely and utterly sure of our power.

There’s 3 ways in which a sorcerer can cast more powerful magic than their actual power levels should allow: adrenaline, necessity, and ego. And only ego is ongoing rather than situational.

So it behooves us in every way to know, hair to toenails, that we are better.

Continue reading “Prompt Short Story: Young Love (Interviews with a Sorcerer #4)”

Prompt Short Story: Goddamn Dog Smell (Interviews with a Sorceror #2)

Half the world knows about and believes in magic and supernatural stuff, half doesn’t. Some folk’ll deny what’s right in front of their face. I don’t have much time for that idiocy. I know some who love living with the commons – the ones who don’t know about our version of the world. They help them and the commons fawn all over them – “Oh, how do you do it, you’re so amazing, I swooooooon”. Blech. Never could stand that crap. If you hired me, pay me – and a bonus goes a long way towards showing proper appreciation. If you didn’t hire me and I’m doing whatever for my own reasons, stay out of my way unless I ask otherwise, and let me go easy once I’m done. I just can’t be doing with all that “my hero” rubbish. I am what I am, and I made a vow to use it to aid folk where I can. It was part of my entrance fee for being allowed into the training. Especially as a late bloomer, and a poor charity case at that, never mind the rest – black, queer, we covered that already. Anyway, because of that, and my trauma that kickstarted the magic, I had to agree to some rules. Not all sorcerers have to. Was always a fun game to guess who did and who didn’t, and I was usually right. Like anywhere in this fucking world, the closer you are to a rich, cishet, white, abled, neurotypical male – the fewer problems you have.

Continue reading “Prompt Short Story: Goddamn Dog Smell (Interviews with a Sorceror #2)”