Keeper Of Peace

Chapter Twelve - Magic

Nathaniel, surprisingly, had no smart answer to her question if Magic existed other than "Let's find out."

So that was what they set out to do - even though, by that time, Catherine had already remembered that Solas had mentioned something about it. A wonder she did at all, really, considering everything that had happened that day.

They discovered that the book did indeed have a title, On Magickal Creatures, Sprites and Theyr Eternal War on This Earth. The eternal war part made Catherine's stomach queasy, but Nathaniel, of course, being the teacher that she'd just discovered she was, simply had to poke fun at the mistakes.

"Honestly, you'd think a professional typesetter would know how to spell."

"Honestly, you'd think someone who studied literature would know there was no standardised spelling back then," she said, annoyed. But his words made her stop in her tracks. Professional Typesetter. That was more than just curious. If this book was just half the secret she thought it must've been, why hadn't it been written by hand?

When she asked Nathaniel that, he just pointed to a subtitle she'd previously overlooked: A Fictional Chronicle to Entertain the Mind.

"They made it easy for themselves. Slap the label fictional on something as ludicrous as this and save future generations the grief of dealing with your terrible handwriting."

She snorted. "Expensive."

"I'm sure they had more than enough money."

"True." The current estimate of the family estate was a good hint in that direction. All that money still gave her the shivers, and not in a good way. What could one ever do with so much money, except donate it?

They discovered that magic, indeed, did exist. But, as Nathaniel read out to her after a rather frustrating bout of laughter, it could only be "wielded by those honest and pure".

The way it was put made Catherine groan in frustration. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"What? That everybody who got their cherry popped is screwed in both senses of the word?" Mirth gleamed in his eyes as he batted his lashes and made the most innocent face he could. Not very successfully, one might add, he just looked hilarious - and very guilty.

"That about covers it, yeah." She did her best to glower at him, but that only made him grin.

"Don't worry, spreading your legs won't get you into trouble, Kitty-Cat. The Elves are actually quite progressive on that front. Innocent or pure means intentions, not sexual experience. Whoever wrote this made his confusion on that part very clear. Listen to this: How any woman bereft of her maidenhood could be pure is inconceivable to the author. Only women, though. I'm safe."

Catherine shook her head. Dealing with old-guy sexism wasn't really high on her priority list right now. "So does that mean anyone can do it, as long as their intentions are pure?"

"Seems so." He appeared to re-read the passage, and then shrugged. "Doesn't say anything about humans here. But maybe whoever wrote this didn't even think about that. You know how religious people can get about magic. Devil here, devil there, blah blah, hell..."

She snorted. "Let's not get into that, yeah?" And just like that, she was yawning, her mouth open so wide she could've swallowed a small watermelon. That was when she realized that it was the middle of the night - and she was bloody tired.

Her sleeping pattern these last couple of years had left much to be desired, but this went one step further. Saying she was "dead on her feet" would bo longer be the exaggeration she'd always thought it was.