Esma leaned on her kitchen counter, waiting for the clock to strike eight. The coffee decanter sat there steaming, holding enough of the caffeinated nectar for both her parents. She didn't know what to do with herself when she had free time; most of her life has been running from one place to another, or enduring sleepless nights under florescent lights.
Magdalena's request piqued her interest however, and her legs itched for contact on the cement sidewalk. The two girls rarely spoke to each other and when they did, it was usually a thinly veiled anxiety question on the latest test. That, and they were going to compete against each other in the upcoming Games, with Magda representing Warsaw. Esma's natural reaction was that the session was organized under suspicious pretenses, but she knew that it was just going to be a friendly spar between two classmates. Magda always had good intentions.
Perhaps it was all well and good that Esma was going. She needed a proper distraction from her humdrum life, and strengthening current relationships was one way to do it.
Upstairs, she heard a door creak open and another one close. Her mother would come down in a couple of minutes, followed by her father. Grunting, Esma peeled herself from the linoleum and poured the coffee into two separate cups. She put in cream and two spoonfuls of sugar for baba, and nothing for anne. She checked her phone for the time, and saw a reminder.
Esma stared at it for a few seconds with unblinking eyes. She closed them, took in a deep breath, and opened them again. She dug her wand out of her bag and with a heavy hand, said "represiune" over the coffee before shoving it back into its compartment. The cups showed no visible signs of change, but that was how it was. The memory spell would last a week before needing another refresher; it was one of the few things that secured her decision to go to university in Bucharest.
She anxiously tapped her fingers on the dinner table, eventually moving on to pacing around the kitchen. Upstairs, she heard her parents waking up and getting ready. Esma opened the refrigerator and brought out a jar of honey and jam, along with circular cuts of simit. She spread the condiments on the bread and made one for herself, and her parents, making some more extras to take along to Parcul Cișmigiu.
"Good morning," Esma said in Turkish to her parents. She put on the brightest smile that she could muster. "Can I go somewhere for a few hours?"
Her father, a man with a bushy moustache, raised an eyebrow. "And where is that?"
"The park. I'll just be there to exercise. I haven't done that in so long, and it's beautiful outside! And don't worry, I will have my cellphone on me at all times."
The father glanced at his wife, who nodded in approval. "Very well then. You may go. Come home soon." He took a long sip from the cup of coffee. "Take care."
Esma smiled, packing the extra sandwiches into her bag. "Thank you."
She rushed out the front door, almost bouncing on her feet. At last, she had some free time, time dedicated to what she wanted to do instead of academic work. In her tiny apartment, the walls closed in on her like fingers around a neck. But outside, Esma felt free. She was free to do whatever she wanted without anyone or anything stopping her. Within fifteen minutes, she arrived at Parcul Cișmigiu, not even breaking a sweat.
Magda stood near the entrance and waved to her. She also wore athletic attire: a white shirt and green shorts. "Esma! I picked a nice, quiet spot for us to practice. Come!" and she sprinted off.
Esma tucked in a stray hair that came out of its bun before joining Magda. She couldn't help but grin at the other girl's enthusiasm for the ensuing, grueling practice. Magda lead her to a green, rectangular field surrounded by trees. The border was composed of little, periwinkle flowers sprinkled with bright pinks and yellows. Esma gracefully jumped over them so as to not ruin their blooming innocence. The girls put their bags outside of the border, established a shared iluzie protectoare, and stood about six meters apart from each other.
Magda held her sword out in front of her and without saying a word, enchanted it so that it glowed with a dim, yellow light. She had a shield in the other hand, decorated with a phoenix blowing a stream of fire from its beak. Both of them stood there in silence, waiting for someone to unleash the next move.
Esma dodged left as Magda slashed forward, but was then pushed backward of the ensuing explosion. She scrambled to her feet and quickly shouted "bate înapoi," swishing her wand towards Magda, and causing a gust of wind to collide with her body. But Esma only managed to nudge her. She blamed Magda's heavy armor.
She decided that the best course of action was to give Magda a wide berth and attack from afar. Oh, if only she was a proper necromancer, then she would be legally allowed to carry the bones of the dead. The area that Magda chose forced Esma to rely on her own resources, instead of the nature's, and would exhaust her more. Meanwhile, all Magda needed was her damned enchanted sword and Esma needed to exhaust its magic, or at least prevent it from being used at all.
Esma dodged again and again, ducking under Magda's blade and swinging towards her backside. She pointed to the ground in front of Magda and said "extinde," focusing on the water droplets on the blades of grass. Just as what she hoped, Magda slipped on the newly formed puddle and loss her grip on her sword. Taking this in account, Esma said "ameți" and a bolt of yellow energy zig-zagged through the air and collied with Magda's shield - only to ricochet towards Esma again.
"Proteja!" she shouted, and a barrier of blue protected her from the incoming projectile, dissipating it into nothing. By this time, Magda had recovered her own sword and swooped behind Esma to deliver a sharp blow, only for Esma to dodge that.
This dance continued on for fifteen minutes, neither girl willing to budge and admit defeat. Both of them had an insatiable pride burning within them, a pride instilled by a combination of their own volition and social pressure.
Once, the day's spar had passed, the two girls laid on the soft grass with their hair splayed out behind them. Esma wiped her forehead with her hand and covered it from the midday sun. Their chests heaved with the sheer effort of casting so many spells in a short amount of time, along with the physical exertion from attempting to dodge said spells. And yet, despite her exhaustion, Esma had never felt happier, even if there was a possible chance she might have to go against her.
She lifted herself up and brushed off any dirt or grass particles off her clothes. She offered a hand to Magda who gratefully accepted it.
"Thank you for this opportunity," said Esma, smiling. She stretched out her arms. "You were right. I needed this."
Great was an understatement. There were few moments where Esma wanted to last forever, and this was one of them. She wasn't one for sentimentality, nor for dwelling on relatively ephemeral moments in her life. But for certain people, she was willing to make an exception.
"Of course," beamed Magda. "It was a pleasure practicing with you. What do you say to relaxing for a while? Out of all people, I would think, you deserve it the most."
"I'm afraid I can't. Wait - you have that paper to write as well." Esma crossed her arms. "Unless you finished it in the few moments between your ceremony and now."
"Oh, Esma." Magda's swished her hand in front of her face, as if trying to blow that issue away. "Life is much too short to be worrying about trivial things. Its just a paper, a paper that can be reserved for the dark hours, like most of us do. Tell me, are you really going to start it when you get home?"
Esma blew a strand of hair from her face, glaring at Magda with grudging agreeableness. She liked to think that she was proactive when it came to academia - and she was. When it came to the exciting parts at least, the parts where entropy has yet to reach its ground state. She did admit, the paper following the ceremony was trivial. What did she care about the people who had died? Their skin turned to ash and their bones turned bare and besides, she interviewed the common folk, not the ones who changed history. What did it matter if she recorded their stories when no one cared?
But she had to do it. Whatever the topic was, it was an assignment and she had to accomplish it or suffer the consequences. It was written in her DNA, plain and simple.
"I'll take that as a yes," sighed Magda. She picked up her sword, slashed the air in front of her, and said "risipi."
The transparent bubble surrounding them dissolved and within the split second, Magda miniaturized her sword and put in her pocket. Esma pocketed her own wand. Now, they merely looked like two girls out for a picnic who took a very intense run the hour before.
"I'm sorry if I disappointed you, Magda," said Esma. She ran her fingers through her own hair. "But if I want to be great, I'm going to have to focus on my studies."
"But you don't have to be great all the time, nor do you have to be perfect. You're still young and I have to say, reckless too. There are plenty of opportunities to be great. Not everything has to be a stepping stone for greatness."
They never understood. Not even Sebastian can understand her obsession. She had to be better than the rest of her classmates, to show the that she wasn't an immigrant upstart who cheated her way to the top. Evidence must be shown so she can be valid, so she can be accepted amongst her peers. Sebastian was a fully-integrated citizen who had the academic respect of everyone, who had the acceptance from his parents that she can never, ever have. He was sympathetic, but he was not empathetic.
Esma gave no response. Instead, she slung her bag over her shoulder and turned the other way.
She did not walk a half a meter before Magda's hand snatched hers and Esma was locked in a hard grip with her.
"Esma," Magda breathed. "To be great, you need to be liked first. To be written in the golden pages of history, people need to know about you, to care about you. With your aloof nature, it is no wonder no one wants to talk to you. You are unapproachable. We need to change that." She let go of her hand and said quickly, "But if you really want to go home, then I won't make you come with me. It would be nice if you would accompany me though."
"Oh." Esma blinked slowly, her brain trying to process Magda's words. She was well aware that her intimidating aura shunned people away, and the only person brave enough to penetrate it was Sebastian. She enjoyed being alone. She enjoyed leaving people in the dust but with the current situation between Sebastian and her... Esma didn't know whether she could bear the thought of them together now.
Now, she had a company. Magda's seemed to have genuine concern for her well-being. She remembered her words, that she should really see more people and that those people need to care about her. Magda was right. If she wanted people to respect her as a student and a person, she would have to open up the gate. But the fact that Magda was right, bothered Esma. She was never wrong.
The girl dashed the thought away. No. Esma resolved to join Magda in wherever she wanted to go.
"What is your answer," asked Magda.
"Yes."
The curves of her mouth shot up. "Really?" she almost screamed. "Oh my God, I'm so glad that you said so! Come, let's go to Strada Lipscani!"
Magda dragged Esma towards the street and into her rickety car. Strada Lipscani was only a five minute drive from Parcul Cișmigiu and was located in the Old Town. It was a popular tourist attraction because of the bountiful amount of shops that lined it streets. Esma has been to it many times with her parents, rifling though the clothes in search of the perfect deal. She tried to drag Sebastian to it once, but he refused on the grounds that he didn't want to be subject to "unwarranted touches."
They arrived there in five minutes flat. Parking in Old Town was one of life's greatest vices, but it wasn't bad as it was in Italy. Tourists always swelled during the warmer months. Magda parallel parked between two, slightly crooked cars and applauded herself when she successfully completed it.
"Ha! And my mother said I wasn't capable of doing that... That ought to show her," she muttered.
"From what I have seen, you are capable of doing a great deal of things, to the point where they can fill a whole galaxy. I would be surprised if you didn't know how to parallel park."
"I appreciate that comment, Esma." She opened her door and stepped outside, squinting from the sun. Esma followed accordingly.
They weren't exactly at Strada Lipscani, but they were certainly in the district. It was not even five minutes of window shopping before Esma suddenly flashed her head towards a distant noise, as if someone was yelling from the street over.
In the center of Strada Smârdan was a group of magicians who brandished posters blazoning phrases such as "Go back home! Leave the magic to the professionals! There's a reason why its Tradition! Non-Originals don't deserve to invade Original spaces! Integration equals invasion!"
Something inside Esma snapped.
She whipped out her wand and pointed it directly at the platform supporting them. In an instant, it exploded into pieces of granite and wood. The magicians frantically scattered and with it the illusionary barrier they established between them and reality. From the outside it seemed like the explosion manifested from nowhere as did the ensuing chaos. She made eye contact with Claudiu, and made a terrifying sight: wild hair and a twisted snarl on her angered face. The air between the two magicians was electrified - literally. Little sparks erupted from the intense emotions shared between them.
She was about to detonate another spell, this time aiming for him, before Magda grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her back into the alleyway, away from the light.
And then the world blurred around her until it finally stopped. No noise could be heard besides heavy breathing. A cool, unfamiliar air breezed by Esma's face. Slowly, she stood up, blinking until her eyes focused.
"For a person who barely shows any emotion," said Magda, arching her back as she stood up. She didn't seem to be too perturbed at her stunt. "You have quite the temper."
"Emotions are foreign to me, but I know what I did wrong. No need to lecture me," Esma bitterly replied. The mess she caused was going to be hell to clean up. If she was lucky, no one was taking video of the incident and if she wasn't, well the consequences would be drastic. And then there was Claudiu, but it would be unlikely that he would keep his mouth shut. How was she going to climb out of this hole she dug for herself?
"Where are we?" Esma said.
The room she was in was made of shoddy wood and decorated with posters. Her feet constantly stood on soiled papers or bits of graphite. She bent down, picked one of the papers up, and gleaned that this place must have belonged to an architect. Every paper she picked up was filled with half-finished drawings of buildings, perfectly drawn lines in stable geometric shapes.
"Warsaw, Poland." Magda walked to the wall and flicked a switch and the room flooded with fluorescent, blinking lights. "Specifically, my brother's old, abandoned apartment." She pulled up two collapsible chairs. "We should be safe here."
"I didn't know you had a brother."
"I wouldn't expect you. His name was Gabriel. I use his apartment as a safe house, of sorts, or at least as a means of escape from life. Though, Bucharest is currently those means, its only temporary. I have to go back soon."
"All things are temporary, Magda."
"I know."
Esma rubbed the back of her hand, wondering what was she going to do next after that awkward conversation. She watched Magda stand up and arranged the apartment to be a bit more presentable, bit by bit. But she could not dust up the ghosts and wipe away their presence. Gabriel was dead and he left behind old dreams, old dreams that were to be inherited by Magda. Esma didn't know what to do besides sit there in mute sympathy.
She turned on her phone and decided to check the news and see if there were any reports on the incident. There were, but not one specified that Esma herself did it, and all descriptions of the perpetrator were vague. No one was injured, and no one had an idea on what caused the explosion. That would mean Claudiu was theoretically the only one who knew that it was her. Esma bit her lip and went into her contacts, debating whether or not she should confront him about it.
"Are you checking what I am also checking?" said Magda. She also had her phone in her hands.
Esma nodded. "Yes."
"The damage isn't too bad, but I don't have the answers for your situation. You're just going to have to wait and see what other people will do and then you make your move. Its a grand game of chess that's been around for centuries."
"And I have to be the Queen." Esma stood up and glided towards the circular formation of stones. "Thank you for today, Magda, even if it ended horribly."
Magda waved it off and smiled. "cc, its fine. If you ever need somewhere to escape, this place will always exist and of course, I'm always around if you ever need anything. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Esma jumped through the portal, envisioning a spot in an alleyway on Strada Dianei, and landed there. By the time she got home, the time just turned three o'clock. To believe that all those events happened in the short span of two hours was unbelievable. She walked home, assuming the aura of a person who just got back from a stroll in a park rather than magically sparring with a Polish girl and shortly blowing up a platform.
She found her apartment empty, but a note on the coffee table. Esma picked it up and read it: "We went to the market to pick up some ingredients and be home within 30 minutes. - 2:45 PM." That left her about fifteen minutes to relax.
She went inside her room, where she threw her sweaty clothes off her body and into the laundry basket and snatched new ones from the narrow opening of the drawers. She redid her hair and makeup, ensuring that her eyeliner was perfectly pointed and that the brown curls on her head bounced. There was something powerful in dictating your own appearance, a small sphere of control in this uncontrollable world.
And then her phone rang.
It vibrated on her table, rattling its legs and the other objects laying on it. Esma picked it up and a smooth voice answered.
"Hello, Esma."
The girl gritted her teeth and restrained herself from hissing at him. "Claudiu," she acknowledged. "What's your proposal?"
Claudiu coughed. "First, I just wanted to say that I was not expecting that from you and second, I appreciate the fact that you know me well enough to see this happening. We both know what passed and I will consider not calling the school if you revoke your academic position and hand it to me."
"Fine." Saying the word felt like spitting out a hard, sharp stone from her mouth. Esma remembered what Magda said to her earlier, about life being one giant chess game. If she was going to be successful, then she was going to sacrifice some pieces for the victory. Ruining her reputation was not going to be one of those pieces.
"Really? That doesn't sound like you at all."
"Then you don't really know me, do you? I'll call the school first thing in the morning to notify them. I hope you're happy now."
Esma ended the call and laid down on her bed, her eyes stinging with embarrassment and an irrevocable regret. She heard the front door unlock and her parents' voices fill the apartment. If only they could fill her heart. She gave up such a small, insignificant thing for a bigger, grander future but why did it hurt so much? What did she have now?