Chapter Three
October 17, 2023
7:50 PM
West Hartford, Connecticut, United States of America
192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7FpSsKk4oh
A couple dozen minutes later, once the music has stopped and Corbin is half-finished with his soup, a black and white tuxedo cat saunters into the kitchen. She ignores Corbin, walking right up to the counter. She launches herself up, landing on top of the counter with ease. Corbin just watches, not really knowing if he should do anything. Maebell is fine with it, so he should be, too. The cat bends down her head and picks up one of the fresh cookies in her mouth. She sits down on the counter, pleased with herself. If Corbin had blinked then, he would have missed it. In less than a millisecond, the cat transforms into a person, sitting on the counter. She has long, black hair braided down her back, with two white strands in the front. Her eyes aren’t completely human. She’s wearing ripped jeans and a black tank-top, and high-top sneakers on her feet. Corbin jumps in surprise when she transforms, nearly spilling his soup. “How did you…!” Corbin exclaims. The woman laughs. “So, you’re the little one Donovan brought in. Interesting,” she says, standing up and walking closer to Corbin. “He’s a little small, don’t you think? Like a twig. A sad, limp twig.” Corbin’s mouth drops. “W-what?!” he asks. The woman shrugs, taking a bite of her cookie. “Hm. These are good, Maebell. Thanks,” she says, walking away. “Hold on!” Maebell calls after her. “Not so fast, Pip.” So that’s Pip, Corbin thinks. Huh. Pip turns around to face Maebell again. “What?” she asks, crossing her arms. “You’ve been out all day. Come eat something,” Maebell says, filling a bowl for Pip. “What about Don? He’s been out all day, too,” Pip argues with a mocking tone. “Shouldn’t he be eating, then?” Maebell sighs. “Yes. Yes, he should be. You stay with Corbin, and I’ll go find him. Eat.” She hands Pip a bowl and walks out of the room.
Pip sits across from Corbin, propping a foot up on another chair. “So. I’m Pip,” she says, not touching her soup. “C-Corbin,” Corbin replies. “Yeah, I know,” she says, looking around. Without another word, she stands up and dumps the untouched soup back into the pot. She sees Corbin’s expression, and turns to explain. “We’re all magic. Me, Mae, Donovan. Because of that, we don’t really feel hunger. But we still need to eat in order to stay alive. It’s a… difficult situation. We don’t feel thirst, or tiredness, either. Anyway, Maebell and I, we’re Donovan’s familiars. Meaning, we’re cats, but with some of his magic inside of us. And that magic allows us to be human sometimes, when we need it. We try to get an hour and a half or so of human time per week. Any more starts to get tiring, for us, and for Donovan. I’ll take it that this is the first time anyone’s explaining this to you,” she tells him, resting against the edge of the counter. Corbin nods, slowly taking it in. Pip laughs at his reaction. “That’s okay. Most mortals aren’t able to fully comprehend it, anyway.” Corbin raises an eyebrow. “Two questions. One, if non-magical people are ‘mortals’, does that mean that wizards like Mr Delina are… immortal? And two, why can’t we comprehend it? It makes perfect sense to me.”
Pip smiles at his questions, and starts to slowly walk around the room. “Valid questions. One, no. Donovan and others like him are not immortal. They have immensely prolonged life spans, but are not immortal. It’s just a term we use. Also, don’t call him a wizard. At best, the word would be ‘mage’. ‘Sorcerer’ works, too. Just never ‘wizard’. It’s a… touchy subject, involving a farmers market in southern France, 17… 1723, I believe.” She laughs at the memory. “And two, it’s because mortals like logic and science too much. Magic defies all of the laws that they have worked for centuries to establish, so they refuse it.” She shrugs, leaning back on the counter. “But you’re young enough. The children are less rigid about it than adults.” Corbin nods slowly. “Okay. That… that makes sense. Thanks,” he says with a smile. Pip takes a sarcastic bow. “My pleasure.” She steps away from the counter. “I think you’re gonna like it here,” she says, before walking towards the library and down the hallway that was attached to it. 192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYPZ6qxziay
