Isaac was having a great day. No, it was more apt to say that he was in a great mood for the day. There was no real reason for it, none that he could see, or it could be that he woke up on that figurative right side of the bed— which was where he actually woke up on.
He hummed an upbeat tune he learnt from a hermit clan on one of his treasure hunts. It was such a catchy tune that it stuck to his head with such clarity even after many years had passed.
Some of the boys were getting feisty but that was all they did. He saw the Necronomicon telling the frozen statue a story in whatever forgotten language they were communicating in.
There was that brief moment of panic when he realized that Schrödinger had stepped out of his box and started existing but that was easily taken care of when he saw the stupid cat scratching some sort of grand transmutation circle around the Shining Trapezohedron on the ground.
Who even taught the cat how to draw? His first suspect was the frozen statue but… well it was frozen.
He stuffed the cat back in the box and left the statue to its riveting conversation with the Necronomicon, idly noting that Eibon's little book had joined them.
He remained in that great mood as he opened up shop for the day and started his cleaning routine. There was hardly any need as the specters kept his store clean at all times but that was no excuse to not engage in his hobbies.
The shop was squeaky clean in thirty minutes after which he happily took his time in arranging the chaotic order of how things would be displayed today. He could've left these to the shop to take care of, which he did on most days, but he decided to do it today because he felt like it.
He slid to his spot behind the counter at exactly 10am and pulled out two books which he was interested in using to pass the time.
One of the books had a blinded eye on both sides of the cover while the other had skeleton limbs across it.
The moment he sat down to resume his reading, the door to his shop was pushed open as signified as the ringing bell and the flying invisible specters that flew all over the store at every second.
"Welcome to Junk 'N Stuff. What do you need?" He asked the kid who stood in front of him.
The teenage boy looked similar to a group of mages he met a long time ago. They weren't the most memorable bunch but somehow he remembered them.
The beaten down hair dyed black, the black lipstick and eyeshadow, the black nails and piercings, the black drab that was apparently a fashion statement along with the heavy metal accessories – the picture perfect emo boy.
The boy looked at him with that sluggish tilt kids like him always adopted like a character design and opened his mouth to speak only to pause as his eyes caught something from the corner of his eye.
He left Isaac at the counter and made a beeline towards one of the shelves at the back of the shop that had books and voodoo dolls displayed on it, where a red haired female doll with round button eyes and a triangular stitched nose sat on top of the shelf and was looking down at him.
The boy picked up one of the books, mumbling some 'I can feel the darkness…' or something along those lines as he traced the corners of the book with his fingers reverently.
He opened the book, Isaac letting him do so, and gasped softly at the array of texts and diagrams he couldn't understand.
He closed the book, hesitated for a second before grabbing another one, and walked back to Isaac.
Isaac eyed the boy and the books with a small smile. "Just out of curiosity, do you know what these books are?"
"Magic." The boy said softly in self-assurance.
"Magic?"
The boy met Isaac's eyes defiantly. "Superpowers, aliens and gods exist. It is foolish to believe magic doesn't exist." He said it with the same confidence of someone who claimed what should be common sense and yet everyone ignorantly disagrees.
"So, interested in the occult, are we?" Isaac asked as he picked up one of the books and flipped through the ancient pages.
The boy made a noncommittal sound, drawing close to the limits of his social skills.
"Maybe… yeah. I know there is a secretive magical community. If I can't find them then all I have to do is prove magic is real and learn it myself." Turns out that his social battery was only limited to things that were not in his interests.
"And you want to buy these because…?"
"I can feel something from it. I am… half certain that it is a real magic tome. The text looks too sophisticated to be fake and the pages are really aged. The darkness is strong with this one."
Isaac looked impressed at the occult-obsessed teen as he tapped on the cover of the book.
"And this one?" He pointed at the other book the boy had picked up.
The boy looked up at him with smothered, black painted eyes. "Magic draws those who are kin. It unravels itself to them in time."
"So you just picked it up because you felt like picking it up?"
"You don't choose magic. It chooses you."
"Heard that one before." Isaac mumbled. He placed one book on top of the other as he addressed the boy. "You know, rather than buying magic grimoires you don't understand, wouldn't it be wiser to know your affinity and talent in magic?"
The look the boy gave him was a look he had given a lot of people who were just too ignorant to understand.
"I don't need to." He softly muttered under his breath but with absolute confidence. "Magic chose me, and the darkness beckons."
The amusement on Isaac's face became more pronounced. He was certain that the boy was one of those kids who took the occult as a fervent hobby and would scribble circles on the ground in the darkness of their room with lit candles and start chanting in some archaic tongue, probably Latin, while trying to summon a demon and bind it to them.
On the other hand, they were very passionate about it in a way that made it hard to ridicule them.
"Be that as it may," he looked down at the two books the boy picked— Book of Gul'dan (World of Warcraft) and The Dark Arts Compendium (Feudal Hearts)— and continued, "none of these are beginner friendly, not to mention that they are not cheap."
The boy leveled him an unimpressed look that said 'I know you're trying to cheat me, but it won't work. I'm not new at this.'
"40 bucks. For the two of them." And it came with a deadpan. An emo deadpan.
If anything Isaac was entertained. He slid the compendium forward, "40," and pushed the dark book along, "200".
The boy's eyes widened beyond their lazy limit, casted by astonished anger. "200 bucks? Who would buy this for 200 bu—"
"Million."
"—ks?.... Huh, what did you say?"
Isaac pointed at the compendium, "$40 million," and tapped the spell book, "$200 million."
The boy gave a very disappointed sigh. He felt insulted that Isaac would just straight out insult him like that because of his hobbies. He had thought Isaac of all people would know not to insult people's hobbies given he ran a pawnshop and sold magical(?) books.
"You know what? Just forget it. I'll go drop these." Any rapport that had been built between them had disappeared because of Isaac's insensitive joke.
However, Isaac was still in his good mood so he decided to see how he could push. "Is that it? Not gonna even haggle or call me out?"
"I would if you wanted to sell." He said petulantly.
"And who says I don't?" Isaac asked. "If magic is real like you say, what makes you think it would go for 40 bucks?"
"That doesn't mean anyone would sell it for 200 million, or even buy it!"
Isaac's reaction to his words were a single raised brow that said, 'Really?'
"And besides, are you really trying to tell me that these are real magic grimoires?"
"Do you really believe them to be?" Isaac remarked with a smile that was met with a deadpan.
"Even if I did, that doesn't mean I would throw millions at it." The reply was laced with a silent 'duh' that did a poor job at remaining unseen.
"Ahha!" Isaac snapped his fingers with a smirk on his face. "But it's magic. Think about it. Would you really give up on magic if you had the money?"
The boy frowned and turned fully to face Isaac with the posture of a depressed shadow.
".. Still… that would only happen if the books were real, which—"
"And who says they are not?" Isaac interjected.
The boy frowned, his earlier displeasure making a guest appearance. "I'm not twelve."
"And who says magic isn't real?" Isaac asked as if his question just made his whole point.
The boy hit his lip, looking disgruntled at the insistent point. "Even if it is, I don't have the millions to spend on it."
"True," Isaac mourned in disappointment but soon pivoted to a knowing eye smile as his good mood dictated, "but that doesn't mean there is nothing you can do. For starters, what is your budget?"
"Are you for real?" The boy asked in abject disbelief. Despite everything, it ended up circling back to Isaac trying to sell him a magic book. "I…"
"Before you say anything, I want you to tell yourself that you are buying a real magic book, not because of your hobby or anything, but because you are about to start your magic journey. With that train of thought, I want you to think about how much you are truly willing to invest in your dreams."
It could be because Isaac was that charismatic and persuasive or because the boy was just happy to have someone regard his occult-obsession as something more than a hobby and didn't mind role-playing the bit, but he actually took a second and looked to be seriously contemplating it.
"5…500." He finally replied. "500 bucks. That's all I got. Give me something good… please."
Isaac smiled with a nod. "Why of course." His good mood being the sole reason he made a grabbing gesture with his hand and folded sheet of paper, old yellow paper, appeared in his hand.
"Wha…"
"Now this is a page from a first year textbook on magic, specifically on how to sense your magic–how to get it active– and how to find your magical flavor. The ingredients are quite easy to get. Follow the instructions and if it works out for you then, congratulations, you have some potential."
He handed it to the stiff shocked teen who looked like he had just seen a nuke go off, alternating between shock and disbelief, as he took it with shaky hands.
"That'll be $370 by the way."
"Wha…wha…. How…"
"Oh, it's the real thing. Trust." Isaac said with a look of pure self-gratification.
"You're not shitting me? This will… It'll teach me magic?"
"It won't teach you magic," Isaac quickly corrected, and quickly added, "it'll show you how to feel your magic if you have any."
Under the intense stare of the captivated emo teen, another book appeared in his hand after a little puff of smoke. "This is what will get you started on magic."
— The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk (Harry Potter): The standard first year textbook to get you started on magic. It doesn't make you Merlin(you wish) but it keeps the peppy kids happy as they focus on their little spark shows.
Price: $1,150.
"Get your magic checked up first before you come for this." He said as the book disappeared from his hands which visibly caused the boy to wilt.
The boy looked at the piece of paper in his hands, looking extremely torn about spending a huge chuck of his meagre savings on a piece of paper. This was different from spending a couple bucks on smartly printed books that pandered to the niche nerdy soul. If he did this then he was stepping out of the realm of finding proof that magic is real and outright saying that magic is real.
Maybe this was the final push he needed. If it was true then magic was real, if it was fake then maybe it would be the final push he needed to listen and drop out of this phase for good.
"I'll take it." He said with the grim determination of a man staring at the crossroads of destiny… or with the gaze of an emo teen spending his only savings to prove that magic was real.
"Wonderful. I do hope you come back again." Isaac said as the boy made a transfer that set him on an irreversible road.
The boy tucked the piece of paper inside his jacket with extreme care and turned to leave.
"I never got your name, kid."
Halfway in his turn, the boy stopped and gave him a side glance with a smile on his face. "I will give you my name when next we meet… after I answer the embracing dark of magic's call."
The boy left after his grand declaration leaving Isaac once again alone in his shop.
"Hehe, what a great kid."
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