thaumaturgy
Americannoun
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Jessie knocked on the door. Her small hands barely made a sound against the old wood. She felt her eye twitch. She hated that her normal knocking was so unimpressive. She was not even sure the person inside had heard her. Maybe it was for the best, really. Considering the state of the hallway, could she really trust someone who would live in such run-down conditions?
The hallway was covered with dust and cobwebs. The floor was splintered and cracked. The walls were peeling and dented. The lights were either broken or dim. The door she knocked on was in fair condition, but even that was faded and warped in places. She felt more like she was in a haunted house than an apartment building.
Before Jessie could reconsider her course of action, the door opened. A ratty looking man stood in the doorway. His hair and beard were greasy and untamed. His clothes were torn and filthy. He was definitely unwashed, considering the dirt on his hands. And the smell. It made Jessie wince and recoil slightly. But there was something off about him.
Something Jessie could not quite place. If she looked beyond the dirt and mess, she swore she could see something more. Something better than what her eyes told her.
“I ain’t giving out candy, kid.” The man said.
“I’m not looking for candy.” Jessie said. “I’m looking for something more specific.”
The man slowly blinked, then let out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t know what you heard, but this ain’t a place for brats. Get lost and go find someone to give you chocolate or something.”
“No.” Jessie said firmly. “I came here because I heard rumors that the guy here is a wizard or something. Normally, I wouldn’t believe them, but given my circumstances, I can’t afford to discount rumors like that.”
“Fancy words for a kid.” The man muttered. “The rumors weren’t right. I ain’t a wizard.”
Jessie sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“I’m a thaumaturge. Seriously, a wizard. Folks could at least get it right.” He said with a huff.
Jessie paused. “What?”
“Thaumaturge. Not a wizard. There’s a difference.”
“Uh…”
“Look, kid, there’s a bunch of different kinds of magic, but they all fall into two big categories. Divine and Arcane. I won’t go into the details, since you won’t get any of it. But us thaumaturges? We thread the needle between the two. Not quite one or the other but has parts of both.”
“So…can you help me?” Jessie asked, not sure what he was talking about.
“No. Sorry, kid, but like I said, I ain’t giving you candy.”
“I don’t want candy. I need magic.”
The man groaned. “Fine, kid. Tell me what the problem is.”
“The fact that you said kid is the problem.”
He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. He did not seem impressed.
“Look, how old do you think I am?” She asked.
“Seven or eight.”
“I’m 29.”
He looked at her and blinked. “Ah. What was it? Curse? Poorly worded wish? Something with the fae, maybe?”
Jessie rolled up her sleeve, showing him the odd mark that had appeared on her upper arm right before she de-aged. The man looked at it critically.
“Well, shit. That’s gonna be rough to deal with. You’d better come inside.”
“Is it that bad? Can you get rid of this thing?”
“Oh yeah, it’s bad. I can get rid of it, but it’s gonna take a lot of doing. So the sooner I get started the sooner I finish. Now get in here.”
Jessie hesitated only slightly as the man entered his apartment. She just hoped this visit would be worth it.
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