Nico woke up on a bed of grass.

All around him were plants, flowers, shrubs, and small trees he had never seen before. The air was humid, contrasting to the chill autumn air when last he was conscious.

He slowly got up, and saw a middle aged man sitting at a table in the middle of the garden. His small, dark circular glasses rested low on the bridge of his nose. He had a clean, prim moustache, and wore an impeccably tailored, all-white seersucker suit. The suit itself was more business-like that anything over-the-top fancy, and it contrasted well to his tan brown skin. He wore no tie and busied himself reading some foreign newspaper in what looked like arabic script.

On the small table was a tea set, biscuits, fruits, and other breakfast foods.

The man looked up, smiled at Nico, and set aside his newspaper on the table. He said in a friendly tone, “Ah. You’re up.”

“Where am I?” Nico asked, his head pounding with what felt like the beginning of a migraine.

The man nodded as if expecting Nico’s confusion. “You are in my home, more specifically, my garden. To avoid any confusion, I do not mean you harm. In fact, I mean quite the opposite. You may me…” He paused as if choosing his name out of a hat, and then smiled mischievously. “Arif.”

Nico blinked, still confused by the sudden change in temperature, and the appearance of a man who did not seem at all surprised to have an unconscious person in his garden.

“I’m Nico,” he managed.

“Yes, yes you are,” Arif confirmed, like he already knew. “I brought you here as a way of thanking you for saving my daughter from the zar, or what your westerners refer to as haunts.”

“By kidnapping me?”

Arif chuckled. “Technically, you’re correct. That headache you’re feeling? It’s magical in nature, and something mortal hospitals could not help you with.”

Nico’s migraine pounded harder. He winced. “And you can?”

Arif nodded. “You passed out after saving my daughter’s life because your ability is manifesting itself.”

Nico tried shaking his head to oppose Arif’s point, but even beginning the act of doing so made the pounding worse. He took a deep breath through his nose. “I’ve never heard of anyone getting a headache for when their magic manifests into a new ability.”

“A hedge practitioner like you wouldn’t have,” Arif agreed. “It is hidden knowledge. You are going through your ma’rifa, a sort of spiritual trial. The magical energies inside you creating a torrent which your mind is combating. Luckily, my garden is keeping that storm at bay.”

The way Arif moved wasn’t quite calculated like putting on a show, but deliberate. He was a man who only moved with intent, someone used to having their orders obeyed.

The man gave Nico a pitying look, and waved at him to come to the table. “Sit. Sit. Please. You are a guest in my home. I would be a poor host if I did not offer you a seat.”

Feeling awkward for sitting on a bed of grass, Nico obliged. He took a moment to focus on the fact that despite Arif’s claims about his garden helping, Nico’s migraine was steadily growing more painful. He said, “So, that young woman was your daughter?”

Arif’s expression softened. “My one and only blood. I apologize for Ranjit’s attack on you. He has been appropriately punished.”

Nico shrugged. “I guess it was all a misunderstanding. From his perspective, he probably thought I was just some creep hovering over your daughter. I normally would have thought of something better to say, but I had just fought two haunts. I’ve never seen two in one place, let alone fought two at once before.”

Arif’s face grew serious. “Two? Are you sure?”

Nico nodded, and waved at the garden around him. “Well, I’m not even good enough of a practitioner to get into the Mages Union. So, two haunts is a lot for me.”

Arif grew silent, contemplating Nico’s words.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Arif shook his head. “No. But two zar is a bad sign. The Grey Dead only gather in the mortal world in times of great change. It is rare, and I’ve only seen it twice in my lifetime.”

He turned over his shoulder. The friendliness in his voice evaporated, leaving only a cold tone of man with barely contained anger. “If only Ranjit had done a better job of watching Sameera, then this all could have been avoided.”

Behind Arif, past a few tall shrubs, Nico saw the same man who had mistaken Nico for an attacker and cast spells at him. Ranjit stood stoically in front of what looked like an elevator. He had a bruised left eye that Nico had definitely not given him. Maybe the girl or her father had done so as punishment. He seemed like a bodyguard.

Nico felt a small sense of guilt for the man who was probably just trying to do his job. He put out his hand in a placating gesture. “Hey, it was just a misunderstanding, right? We were both trying to protect her.”

Arif sucked in a hard breath, and his shoulders sagged. He turned back to Nico with a thankful expression. “Maybe it isn’t entirely Ranjit’s fault. Sameera has been much more evasive to her guard lately.”

Nico felt more at ease at the man’s fatherly tone. Arif reminded him of his own dad, who was incredibly strict in the traditional Japanese sense. He said, “Forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but maybe your daughter keeps trying to lose her guard because she feels trapped. I’m not saying it’s the same circumstance, but my own father was very traditional Japanese. He was strict. But the more he tried to keep me safe, the more I wanted to rebel.”

Arif’s eyebrows shot up at Nico’s words, and they settled down into a contemplative expression. He sighed. “Maybe you’re right. In my old age, I’ve forgotten the freedom the young crave. That spirit of hers. She takes after her mother in that regard.”

The man spoke like he’d been around for nearly a century, but couldn’t have been older than his early fifties. That made Nico smile a little.

Arif’s expression sobered, as if he remembered something distasteful. His voice grew flat. “I know you have been red-listed.”

A rush of red embarrassment flushed Nico’s cheeks. It looked like everyone in the magical community knew about his red-listing by the Coalition. Arif was probably just a mid-level mage of some foreign Hold. Luckily, the man’s tone wasn’t a threat, just a simple statement of fact.

“But you still brought me to your home,” Nico added.

Arif tilted his head slightly to the side. “Honor demands I pay my debt.”

He paused, as if considering his words carefully, then asked, “If you wait out your red-listing until your thirtieth day after your birthday, then you will be as good as dead. Why do you not simply relinquish your power to a Hold of Faith?”

Nico shook his head. “The red list is a warning to every Hold in the world that I’m bad news, and to not take me in. No one wants a diseased dog in their home.”

Arif clicked his tongue. “Maybe in the western world. But I know of several smaller Holds of Faith that lie eastward who would be happy to fold your power into theirs. Their traditions are even older than the formation of the Coalition. I could have you flown out to one within a few days, and this whole matter would be resolved, least of all my debt to you.”

For a brief moment, Nico stopped moving. What Arif offered would solve all of his problems. By giving his powers up to a Hold of Faith, he effectively make himself a vanilla mortal. The Coalition of Holds would have no influence over him. His magic would be gone, but he could still study theory. Maybe mages would be more willing to give up their secrets to him if they knew he couldn’t do anything with the knowledge.

And yet, he found himself saying firmly, “I can’t.”

Arif leveled his gaze on Nico in a long moment of silence before saying, “If it’s a matter of cost, I will pay for all expenses for you to get there.”

Nico closed his eyes, and exhaled. “It’s not that. The magic is mine. I can’t give it up. You might as well ask me to give up my limbs. And on top of that, someone framed me for four different murders. I can’t allow that to stand.”

Arif’s expression was a solid mask, but Nico swore he saw the barest hint of an approving smile at the edge of his lips.

“The truth matters to you,” Arif said. It wasn’t a question, but a conclusion. It was only then Nico realized the man might have been testing him by offering to introduce him to a Hold of Faith.

For a reason he didn’t quite know why, Nico shivered. His head pounded with pain, and he winced. “Who knows. I might die of this damned headache before my thirty days are up.”

Arif sipped the last of his tea, cleared his throat and got up. “Since you have denied my offer to give up your power, I can help you with the passing of your ma’rifa.”

Nico gave him a blank look.

“I can make your headache go away,” Arif clarified. He started pacing around the garden, inspecting and touching various flowers. “For most practitioners, magic manifests itself in the form of an ability on their twenty first birthday, should they keep their power. It is the equivalent of waking up with a new limb. Some gained the ability to fly. Others can divine the truth of the future.”

“And I get a headache that can rip apart my skull,” Nico chimed in.

“No,” the older man replied. “Some, very few, mind you. Maybe once every few centuries, are blessed with an opportunity to shape their ability or have their ability shape them. Instead of a new limb, they gain a body, a new identity. These are the people who have the opportunity to to change the course of the world, for better or for ill.”

The headache now felt like a drill spinning itself into the deepest part of Nico’s brain. He could barely focus on Arif’s words, and managed, “Uh huh.”

“I had the pleasure of knowing a man who had as intense of a ma’rifa as yours,” Arif continued. “His name was Johnathan. But he had no guide for it. His ability enslaved him, cursing his eyes and mind with knowledge he did not ask for. He saw magic not as an art, but as a science. And the people mocked him for it.”

Nico grimaced. He knew that feeling. Any time he asked a practitioner about trading theories on magic for the sake of advancing each other’s craft, they either scorned him or laughed at him. Mage Pullman had been the first to actually praise Nico for his mixing of eastern and western methodologies.

His vision began to blur, and a sense of vertigo rushed through him unlike anything he’d felt before. It was both a sensation of weightlessness and suffocation. Nico felt a hand place itself gently on his shoulder, and his vision cleared a little.

Arif locked his gaze to Nico, and spoke in a gentle but firm voice. “If you allow me, I will be your shaman for your ma’rifa. Will you accept my help as my payment for saving my blood’s life.”

Nico tried to speak, but couldn’t. The pain of the headache was too much. Still, he forced himself to nod.

Arif smiled, and looked like a massive weight had been taken off his shoulders. “This won’t take more than a few minutes.”

The man walked to an open patch in the garden where a lone flower stood. Its stem was as tall as Arif himself, and its lush green petals were closed tightly on its bulb. Arif caressed the closed petals like someone carefully waking their lover from a quiet sleep.

Behind Arif, Ranjit the bodyguard stepped forward from his post in front of the elevator. He looked alarmed, and blurted. “Sir! Are you sure--”

The humid air in the garden stood completely still. Nico felt a cold terror rise through him, clearing the blurriness of his vision. He suddenly understood how deer could be alerted to the sign of a nearby predator only by instinct.

Arif’s back was to Nico, but everything about the man seemed to tense, like a tiger ready to strike. He looked like a completely different person than the fatherly, wise man from a moment before. He spoke barely above a gravelly whisper. “You dare dishonor me in my home, Ranjit?”

The giant guard froze, as if the air in his lungs had been sucked out of him. He stepped back to his post, and bowed at the waist. “My apologies, master.”

And just as quick as it had come, the dark atmosphere around Arif cleared. The cold, primal fear in Nico had retreated, though not completely. He could not unhear the quiet knives in Arif’s voice when he spoke to Ranit.

Arif leaned into the closed bud of the tall flower, and whispered something Nico could not hear. The flower petals opened to reveal a single golden seed, which Arif plucked gently from the center. He turned his attention back to Nico, sat in his seat, and poured Nico’s cup full of hot water before placing the golden seed inside.

The seed broke apart as if made of dust, and his cup looked to be filled of thick golden liquid. Even the sight of the liquid seemed to quiet his headache, and he could feel his heart quicken with an unnamed excitement.

Arif spoke with a quiet reverence. “True ma’rifas like this are rare, and may come once every few centuries. They are the basis for every rite of passage in all cultures. It is why shamans give sacred plants to those who seek to break through their threshold.”

Despite the pounding headache, Nico shot Arif a smirk and asked, “Go insane or get high?”

Arif didn’t seem to think it was a joking matter because his serious expression did not change. He answered, “No. The consumption of hallucinogens was started as a way to mimic a ma’rifa. This plant is the culmination of my efforts. I had deemed it a failure, but it seems fate had other plans for it.”

Nico hesitated to drink it, but realized Arif was the first person who genuinely offered to help him, despite knowing he was red-listed. For him, that was enough. He picked up the cup with unsteady hands, and gulped it all at once, afraid to spill any of it.

The liquid tasted unlike anything he ever had. It was both sweet and savory. As soon as it passed his lips, he forgot the taste of it. Immediately, his vision began to clear, and the pounding in his head lessened enough that he could form coherent sentences.

He asked, “Now what? Do I chant something?”

Arif shook his head. “All I do is ask you a few questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes,” the man confirmed. “It seems simple, but in hindsight, will be important in how your ability forms itself. The seed you consumed stabilized your condition. It is with the answering of my questions in which you will have the opportunity to form your new identity. Because you are the most spiritually vulnerable you’ve ever been, you will feel as if my questions were designed to personally attack you. They are not. Remember I am here to help.”

Nico felt his pulse quicken, and could already hear himself questioning Arif’s motives. He felt like he was floating peacefully in a pool, and that Arif was the dark shadow of a threat looming beneath him. Nico pushed the thought away. The man was here to help. He said, “Alright. Hit me.”

“What do you want from magic?”

Nico blinked, puzzled at the question. Just like Arif said, Nico’s mind worked overtime to figure out how that particular question was design to destroy him.

“Breathe, Nico,” Arif reminded. “Do not think about your questions. The mind tricks us in times of great vulnerability. Let your instinct guide your answers.”

Nico just blurted the first thing that came to him. “I just want to take away the mystery of magic. It’s too imprecise.”

Somehow, each word that came out of his mouth felt like someone had removed an organ. His body shook, and he could feel sweat pouring on his skin. Arif’s expression was calm and resolute. He asked, “Do you want to master it? To tame magic would be a path many have taken before.”

Master it? How ridiculous. Why would anyone bother trying to tame a hurricane? It was impossible. Why was Arif asking him such stupid questions.

“Speak, Nico,” Arif pressed gently. “Just let it out.”

Tears streamed down Nico’s face, but he didn’t feel sad. He said, “I hate being ignorant. My mother died. She was my only teacher. No other practitioners with a real base of knowledge would take me as an apprentice. Mages are too protective.”

Again, answering felt like hollowing himself out. Why the hell was he doing this anyway? This was ridiculous.

“Nico,” Arif said again, his voice almost song-like. “I’m sorry for the loss of your mother.”

The pain was his mother’s death felt oddly foreign to Nico. And yet, tears kept streaking his cheeks uncontrollably. He found himself saying, “I don’t want to steal their magic. I just want a way to understand the only thing left I have to remember my mother by. The magic isn’t in me. It is me. If I understand it, I can understand myself.”

Arif nodded, as if he understood the workings of Nico’s deepest fears. “You want a predictable system for magic. But how can that be done if each spell you cast relies on belief, on memory?”

The man’s question angered Nico. It was the same question he’d asked himself countless times. A decades’ worth of quiet rage bubble to the surface, and exploded through him. Nico slammed the table with both fists. “I don’t know!”

The tea set clattered to the floor. Ranjit stepped forward, but Arif rose a steady hand to stop him.

The bespectacled man who was definitely out to get Nico spoke in a confident, assured tone. “How, Nico? How can magic become predictable? How can you shape it to your will?”

Nico collapsed to his knees on the bed of grass. His breath was ragged and hot. He spoke in a whisper. An old memory came to him, full of pain and wonder. “The day after we buried my mom, my dad bought me a video game to distract me. It was one of those Japanese Role Playing games with magicians, knights, stat tables, and powers. I felt completely lost, but somehow, that game helped me make sense of my loneliness. In a world like that, I could level myself up to the point I could heal any cancer or stop anyone from taking my loved ones from me. Why can’t magic be like that? Why can’t I be like that?”

He looked up to Arif’s statue of a gaze, pleading. The man answered. “You can, Nico. You can.”

And just like that, the paranoia in Nico evaporated. His vision cleared, and the tears vanished. All the sweat and grime on his body slipped off his body completely, and seeped into the ground. He was suddenly filled with a rush of power that felt both new and familiar. All the colors in the garden grew more vibrant, and his mind sharpened with the clarity of a cloudless blue sky.

Nico stood up, and he felt taller than he’d ever felt before, stronger, even. He was Nico, and yet, not the Nico he had been up until then. His mind moved faster and clearer than ever before, and he knew. He just knew.

That was his ability, his magic, and who he was now. He didn’t know everything, but he now had the tools to know what he didn’t. The world was suddenly filled with endless possibilities, closed doors which he now had the key to unlock all of them.

Arif beamed with pride. “You passed your ma’rifa.”

Nico returned the smile, and he was filled with radiant joy. “Arif! I don’t know who framed, but my ability can--”

Arif put a finger to his lips, and shook his head. “Don’t tell me. If you do, then I will be obligated by the Coalition of Holds to inform them of your ability.”

He snapped his fingers, and Ranjit behind him pressed the down button on the elevator. Arif said, “As a final parting gift for the payment of my debt, I have given you access to my driver for the remainder of the day. He will take you wherever you wish.”

Nico nodded, understanding Arif’s warning. “Thank you, Arif. I don’t know how to repay. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good before. In fact, I know it, the way I know one plus one equals two. And um, I’m sorry for breaking your tea set.”

Arif chuckled. “It is just a tea set. Nothing is owed between us, anymore Nico Kanazawa. Now, I suggest you head home.I am certain our paths will cross once more in the future.”

Nico walked to the elevator.

The door dinged open, and a beautiful young woman with chestnut brown skin stepped out. It was the same girl he saved from the haunts.She leaped at Nico and hugged him.

Nico felt awkward. A few hours earlier, he would have just stammered and tried pushing her away with an apology. But now, he was different, new.

He hugged her back, despite the daggers he felt Arif was staring into his back. Finally, the young woman stepped away, and said. “Thank you.”

Nico smiled back, tall and confident. Somehow, he knew exactly what he needed to say. “Sameera, right? Your dad said you’re new to the city for school. Let’s exchange numbers, and I’ll show you around. I promise I’ll stop any ghosts from attacking you.”

Sameera laughed, and it was a bell of a laugh. She thrusted a folded slip of paper at Nico, which he took. “Way ahead of you. Call me if you get out of whatever mess daddy said you’re in”

He caught a disapproving glance from Arif, and Nico took that as his queue to step back into the elevator. The doors began to shut slowly. He waved a hand at the bespectacled man, and said, “Thanks again, Arif!”

Sameera whipped around, and gave Nico a confused look. “Arif? That’s not my dad’s name. I think it means, “The One Who Knows,” in daddy’s old language.”

“Correct, my sweet,” Arif confirmed.

As the elevator doors closed, the last thing Nico saw was the dark grin of the man in the seeersucker suit. Nico looked down at the folded slip of paper

The top half held a phone number, Sameera’s. As soon as Nico saw it, he knew he would never forget it, not because it was special, but because his ability would not let him. His ability made him know. He grinned at the knowledge, excited at the prospect of experimenting with his new ability when he got home.

On the bottom half of the paper was a name, and Nico felt all of his excitement turn into hard lead in his guts. The letters were written in fluid, clean script.

Sameera Patel.

Her father was Balthazar Patel, the city’s most dangerous magician.