Somewhere along the way I got lazy. I lost the edge my dad had raised me to have. Son of a bitch that he is, I can’t say he didn’t try to make up for it in his own way. I don’t think he expected to have me in his life for too long. My mistake was dropping my guard. His was getting attached.

When we’re at our lowest points in life, humans can get a bit desperate. A starving man may steal so that he can eat, someone dying of thirst may dig into the earth until their fingers bleed to find water. We pray to whoever will hear us in our darkest hours, and we’ll take any hand that reaches down to pull us up. My dad did just that somewhere in a desert fighting in a war no one should’ve fought in the first place. With his unit all but decimated and enemies closing in, he reached out for a miracle and was met instead with a bargain.

What is the price of a human life? What about the price of 13? It may surprise you to find out that whether it’s one or 100, the price is almost always a flat rate: a soul not your own. That of a loved one or one that is not yet known to you. The bargain struck was his life for that of his first born child. I don’t know what he saw pinned down by gun fire, he can’t rightly tell me what he saw either, but he does remember shaking the hand of something that made his blood boil in his veins. Within a matter of minutes, 13 men were slain and scattered to the wind, while one got to go home.

Here’s the thing about my father. From that day forward he said his luck was unbelievable. He was given a commendation for his “service”, came home to an abundance of opportunity, and somewhere along the way he met a woman. This is where dear old dad thought he could trick the devil. It wasn’t long after his return that he had a vasectomy. He made sure to make quick friends with his urologist, and had regular check ups to ensure his potential for having children was DOA. The woman didn’t mind and was happy to forgo a child to share in their love together for years and years to come. Old man was set for life.

Except two years after the wedding an unexpected surprise shook the very foundation of their love. Imagine his surprise when his wife wound up pregnant. He was beside himself. She was devastated because she had never even kissed another man, much less slept with one. But how could it be that she was with child when his line had been cut? Only the devil knows. I was their son without a doubt. I was a bargaining chip due.

My life should have been snuffed the moment I came into being. Perhaps some figure should’ve stolen me like a thief in the night. My father waited in agony for something, anything to happen to me. As he waited he grew close to me, as some fathers are want to do with their children. He raised me to be smart, measured, and strong. He was there for life’s milestones, my highs and my lows, and now he’s beaming at me on a pew as I await the love of my life to walk down the aisle.

When he told me what he’d done some time ago, I was dubious at first, shocked after that, and then livid to the point of violence. I got some good shots in on him. He didn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything else but take his punishment. I left him a battered mess in his study. We didn’t talk for a time. Then I met her. I fell in love. We propped each other up, pushed one another to grow while offering each other comfort from the world around us. She helped me heal and was the catalyst for mending my relationship with my father.

He paid for the whole affair. He wouldn’t hear of her father for anything tradition be damned. If it weren’t for her detailed wedding book, I imagine he’d have planned the whole thing himself too. Thankfully he didn’t. His money is good but his taste is questionable. He’s smiling at me, tears welling up in his eyes. I’m smiling at him. A genuine smile with a fondness I’ve not felt for him a long time.

Now the wedding march. Everyone’s on their feet. The doors open and I’m stunned.

I’m frozen in place. Everyone around me has become wax statues with fixed features staring at the bride. I see her. I see it. I see my destiny decided for me long ago. It glides down the aisle with ease and snuffs out candles on the way. No one has moved or made any exclamations. They are a captive audience who may not even witness what is about to occur. Except for the man in the front pew. His tears flow down his cheeks without pause, a smile still plastered on his face.

It stands before me now and it looks like her, but I’ve already seen past the veil. It is here to hold up the agreement. I watch its lips part into a smile that could crack glass. It leans close to me. It whispers in my ear.

“To have and to hold, to love and cherish, till death—oh, no. I suppose that last bit doesn’t hold up here. You’re mine now…unless you would like to strike a bargain?”

A joke. A jest. It cackles as it takes me under.

“What is it they say, Professor? To break the rules, you must first know them? Well I’ve gleaned an insight into the deepest layers of understanding to come to this conclusion.”

Esme dropped the stack of papers onto his desk and then gently placed a USB atop the stack.

“Printed with citations and supporting documents and graphs, as well as a digital copy with additional documentation and links.”

The Professor took the drive and placed it by his computer and then grabbed the hefty stack of papers and brought it up. As his eyes passed over the title of the thesis, she watched a frown come across his face. Esme grinned in anticipation.

“The Theory and Study of the Science Of Magic, by Esme Lucero.”

He glanced up at her.

“Is this some sort of tongue in cheek joke I’m not understanding? The title of your thesis need only be a brief insight into what you’ve been studying, not an allusion to how magical the natural world is.”

“Oh but it is an insight into what I’ve been working on. And I can assure you, this world is undoubtedly magic. Both figuratively and literally.”

Before he could respond Esme placed a finger to his lips. She grabbed a pen from his desk and began drawing a series of shapes and circles that intertwined to create an intricate pattern.

“The hard part is drawing on the other hand. I had to teach myself to be ambidextrous, but I have a shortcut to avoid the tediousness of how long it takes me.”

She pulled a sticker from her pocket. It had a similar design to what she had drawn on her hand. She peeled the backing off the sticker and placed it onto her palm.

“I found that you don’t have to use chalk, ink, or blood—thank god—to make this work. I streamlined the process by using a drawing software. Makes it much easier, though I did fry a couple tablets in the beginning.”

“What process,” the Professor said. “Blood? Did you harm yourself? Ms. Lucero this is highly irregular—“

“Oh it’s more than irregular. It’s magic.”

She clapped her hands together and began rubbing them vigorously. The Professor watched as the friction began to cause a small stream of smoke. His eyes grew wide. She brought her hands apart one more time and smiled.

“Don’t blink for this part.”

Esme brought her hands together hard and the Professor jumped back as he watched a small orb of fire emerge from Esme’s palms. It floated just above the surface of her skin and gave off a steady heat. He watched as she moved it back and forth from one hand to the other.

“How on earth,” he said.

Esme’s eyes were wide with wonder. The light from the flame lit up her face in a warm glow.

“It’s amazing isn’t it? I still can’t get over it. I had a few hiccups along the way. Set my clothes on fire a couple times. Could’ve been much worse but I was cautious. Science and safety go hand in hand, right?”

The Professor stood up and brought his hand towards the fire. He could feel the heat. He brought one finger near and felt a singe on his skin that made him recoil.

“Careful. It’s very real, I assure you.”

“Incredible. Can you…cane you make it burn brighter? Hotter?”

Esme nodded.

“I can bring it to roughly 1400 celsius before it gets too much for me to handle.”

“This is…this is amazing.”

“And it’s attainable. Repeatable. And not just with fire. I can sculpt earth, dissolve metal, freeze water, all with the appropriate formulae and materials. You’re the first witness.”

The Professor began flipping through the documents.

“You say it’s repeatable. What’s the simplest thing that I could do?”

Esme brought her hands together slowly and smothered the flame. Smoke filtered through the creases between her fingers. She shook her hands out and dug into her pocket to produce a bag of seeds.

“Take these. Pour a few into your mouth but don’t swallow them. Just allow them to sit under your tongue. I’m going to give you a phrase to say on a piece of paper. Say it three times and then spit them into the circle I’m about to draw.”

“Will this…hurt me, Esme?”

“Only if you swallow the seeds. You won’t die or be maimed but passing them won’t be pleasant.”

He did as she said and dropped the packet of seeds into his mouth, careful not to swallow any of them. The sat under his tongue and as she drew the design on a piece of paper, he read over the phrase. Though he was no etymologist or linguist, he knew these words were a romanization of words unknown to most languages he’d seen or heard of before. Nevertheless he worked diligently to ensure the pronunciation was correct, and when Esme had competed the circle he did as she instructed. As the last line of the incantation passed through his lips, he spat the seeds onto the paper, and watched as the circle began to glow.

The seeds were clumped together on the page. As the light from the circle glowed brighter, he watched the seeds begin to crack and sprout green vines and tendrils that began to wrap together. They culminated to form humanoid looking being made of plant life. It stood about 20 centimeters tall and though it had no eyes, it seemed to look up at the Professor.

“Alchemists would have called this little guy a homunculus. Ask him to do something for you. Make it simple though. When they’re this new, they can’t handle tasks that are too complex.”

“Oh. Um. Can you bring me that,” he said pointing to the USB drive.

The plant creature nodded and walked over to the drive, picking it up between its two vine like arms and brought it to him. A smile grew across his face as he took it from the creature.

“So what do we think.”

“What do I think? Esme, forget about a doctorate. Forget academia. This will change the world.”

“So what’s next then?”

“You tell me. I think you’re the teacher now.”