Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Building a Support Network

It hurt to breathe. Dry, hot, dusty air swirled within Rory’s lungs. He coughed with every breath. Each new coughing fit would send him sprawling into the gray, cracked earth beneath him. Now and then he saw a twig poking out of the ground, black and dead. His eyes were watery. He’d lick his lips, but his tongue was dry and it only succeeded in cracking them further.

There was nothing on the horizon. This empty desert stretched on forever; Rory could feel that fact in his bones. He staggered to his feet and kept walking. The wind was strong, stronger than before. If Rory could make a sound, he would have screamed just to drown it out. Just over the howl of the gale was another sound, almost like a whisper.

Rory kept walking. He had to. Stopping meant death. It meant whatever was behind him would catch up. No matter how many times he turned around, he couldn’t see it. The presence was always behind him. It was glaring down at him, its gaze boring into him and letting his willpower bleed out. Every step was sapping his strength, but Rory kept walking.

There was only one other thing here. The same thing, repeated over and over with only minute variations. People. Some kind of people. But they had no features. No eyes. No mouths. No hands or feet. He’d pass by one and it would moan impotently, but Rory wouldn’t stop. Even when they reached out to him, he couldn’t stop.

It was so hard, wasn’t it, something was asking him, to be the only magical boy in the world? Everybody had an opinion on him, didn’t they? Did it matter what he felt? No. He was just a target for their animosity. But that was what he’d asked for. That was what being famous was, wasn’t it? Perhaps she should have thought about it more before jumping in headfirst.

Rory covered his ears, but it did nothing to drown out the wind.

He should give it up. He was never meant to be a magical boy. He didn’t deserve the power. Rory was only going to drag everyone around him down until he got one of them killed and then he’d know what it really felt like to be the most hated person—

Rory woke up with a gasp and threw off his sheets. His entire body was drenched in sweat and he was breathing heavily. He covered his eyes and managed to just barely suppress a sob. This was too much. Whatever was happening was getting worse. So much worse.

Carina was sprawled out asleep on his desk. He reached over to nudge her awake, but stopped himself. She was probably still a little upset at him for the interview debacle a few days prior. Rory was certainly still a little upset with her.

Still, he needed emotional support. He nudged her until she started to stir. Once she’d gotten her bearings, she sat up and yawned.

“It’s still a little early,” she said. “What’s going on?”

He explained about the nightmares. Carina listened intently, cocking her head to the side and frowning. When he finished, Rory could see the gears still turning in her head.

“That’s a lot to deal with,” she admitted. “We should talk to Marisol about it. She’ll know more about the magical girl experience than I do—” “Magical boy,” Rory tried to interject. “—and I still need to see her to do some paperwork for the bureau, now that the cat’s out of the bag about our dark magical girl.”

Rory took a crack at some of his schoolwork while he ate breakfast. It had started piling up and both Carina and his parents were unhappy with that fact. Honestly, though, it was mostly to try and take his mind off of his nightmare.

They hopped on a bus and Rory tried to close his eyes. Every time he did, though, he saw that featureless plain again and jerked back awake. What was wrong with him?

Marisol took one look at Rory and had him sit down. She made him some coffee while Carina took the table to speak with Wolf about business. Rory had actually started to doze again by the time Marisol returned with a mug.

“You’ll get through this, Rory,” she said softly. “The media is quick to move on.”

“What? You’re not going to rub my nose in it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Being a celebrity is causing me real problems now. Isn’t that what I asked for?”

“I tried to warn you, kid,” she retorted, a bit of acid returning to her tone. “But no. It’s clear that you’re really stressed out. Regardless of whether you or I are happy about it, you’re part of the organization now, unless you give up your powers. I’m guessing that’s still off the table?”

“I’m not losing this,” Rory growled.

“Then you are, on some level, my responsibility. That, and you visit me, like, three times as often as any other magical gi—defender. I don’t get a lot of human contact anymore.”

Rory sniffed and took a deep breath.

“I’m starting to think that maybe I’m not actually cut out for this,” he admitted. “Wouldn’t I be stronger if I was? I don’t want to give it up. But nobody takes me seriously. Not the other magical girls, not the media, not even Carina. At least if I could do something about Cynthia, I could prove that I deserved to be a magical girl… Defender. Magical defender.”

“I’ve passed on what we know about Cynthia to the bureau,” Marisol said. “They’re keeping an eye on her. I’m not privy to any of that information, but if I find out that they’ve evidence and plan to take her down I’ll let you know. You are helping, Rory. Remember that.”

“There is something else,” Rory said. “I’ve been having nightmares. Not normal nightmares, and not about anything real. It’s all really abstract.” He explained a bit of what he’d been experiencing. “Do you think it might be magical? Or have something to do with planar invaders?”

“I don’t know,” Marisol replied. “It could be a magical dream born of the extreme stress you’re under. Carina would probably be able to tell if you were under the effects of some kind of mental attack.”

Rory chewed his tongue for a moment before asking, “What if it has something to do with the dark magical girl? We know almost nothing about what she can do.”

“That could also be true. But without evidence, there’s no way to know for sure.”

Rory nodded as Carina floated over.

“I’m ready to go,” she announced.

“Before you do,” Marisol said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out what looked like a piece of fortune cookie paper taped shut, “the bureau wanted me to pass this on to you.”

“Oh?” Carina took the paper and folded it before tucking it under her arm. “Thank you. I’ll read it as soon as we get home.”

Marisol nodded, adding, “Then if there’s nothing else, I’m afraid I have work to do today.”

Carina held on tightly to the note on the bus ride home. She didn’t open it until they were in the elevator. Rory waited for her to say something, but she just reread the note in silence.

“It’s… for you,” she said as the doors opened.

Rory took the note and glanced down at it, but couldn’t make out any of the writing.

“It’s too small for me.”

“Contact information,” Carina said. “For a magical girl from Los Angeles. Zora Watson. I don’t know anything about her—the bureau deputizes a lot of magical girls and we end up only learning about the most prominent in training—but apparently she wants to talk to you.”

“…Did you learn about Amira in training?”

“Oh, everybody in the bureau loves Amira,” Carina said, bouncing with excitement. “I squealed like a child when I learned I was being assigned to her city.”

Rory chuckled and opened the door to his apartment. He grabbed a bagel from the kitchen and made his way to his room. There, he had Carina type in Zora’s contact information.

“Hey there,” he wrote out, “this is Rory. I just got your message this morning. What did you want to talk to me about?”

You are reading story Manic Pixie Magical Girl at novel35.com

He picked up his textbook, dreading the next few hours of work ahead of him. Zora was probably busy at the moment, if she was going to respond at all. Rory was going to have to wait for answers.

A few minutes later, there was a reply.

“Hi, Rory!” she’d written. “I wanted to get to meet the first magical boy. And I figured, since I was already a magical girl, I’d just send a message through the bureau to get your attention. Hang on, I’m grabbing a picture.”

As he was reading, a picture had been uploaded, showing a black girl with long straight hair wearing a dark blue princess dress. She was holding a flintlock pistol with inscribed rings wrapped around the barrel. A light blue pixie was standing at attention on the barrel of the gun.

“This is me with my pixie Azalea,” Zora explained. “My power is really cool. There are little icons on each of the rings, and my gun is a slot machine. What comes out depends on what I roll.”

Oh. That was so much cooler than Rory’s power. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“I haven’t fully explored my own powers,” he admitted. “But I have a staff that generates light that can do different kinds of damage and even protect me. I’m still not very strong. I keep training but I don’t think I’m getting any better. It sucks, but at least it keeps me on my toes in fights.”

After a moment, he added, “Oh, my pixie is named Carina.”

“What’s it like being the first magical boy?”

Rory tapped lightly on his keyboard as he thought about the answer. It made him miserable, to be honest. Being famous was one thing, but being the center of attention like this was too much.

“Sometimes I wish I’d just been born a girl instead,” he admitted. “I’ve thought that before, I guess. Mostly when puberty started and I wasn’t allowed to be friends with girls anymore. I kind of hoped that being a magical boy would at least let me have some more friends, but none of the magical girls in this city even talk to each other.” He paused. “I tried to go on an interview to at least set some things straight, but it was a disaster. It’s clear everybody thinks that I’m some kind of freak. They just see me as a boy in a dress. At least if I was a girl… I don’t know.”

It was a while before Zora responded.

“Do you not like the dress?” she asked.

“It’s not the dress,” he admitted. “It’s fine. I hate being a boy in a dress. I hate how that’s what people see when they look at me. The dress is cool. It’s not like I’ve never been curious about them. But I never wanted to be a target like this.”

“That makes sense. But do you hate being seen as unusual or do you hate looking in the mirror and seeing a boy in your outfit?”

Rory bit his lip and replied, “Both, I guess.”

“I thought you might say something like that.” Wait, what did that mean? “I got to go, though. I’m about to head out on patrol. I’d love to talk to you later.”

“Yeah, me too.”

As the afternoon stretched into evening, Rory threw his schoolwork to the side and turned to Carina. He wanted to do something. Specifically, he wanted to train. Rory wanted to get stronger.

“We can do that,” Carina said. “Grab a snack first.”

They were in their abandoned back lot before Rory knew it. They set up some archery targets that Rory had gotten at an outdoor center. It was mostly to practice his aim, but it became clear pretty quickly that he wasn’t any stronger than the last time they’d done this. His attacks did damage, but he wasn’t able to obliterate the targets like Carina seemed to think he should be.

“What am I doing wrong?” he asked her. “You said something, after the interview, about me not… knowing myself?”

“I can’t explain it to you, Rory,” Carina said, frowning. “I would if I could, but I’m not allowed to.”

“If you don’t, I could be killed in my next fight. Doesn’t the bureau want to prevent that? What could be so bad that I’m not allowed to know how to get stronger?”

“It’s not bad, it’s just dangerous to let you know too much.”

Rory groaned and turned back to the targets, but there was someone standing there. He jumped and ended up falling over. Jada laughed as he picked himself up, cussing under his breath.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Relax,” Jada said, dusting off her halter dress. “Me and Thunder talked it out, thought it over a bit, and we’d like to train you after all.”

“Training?” Carina echoed. “We asked for your help, not your pity.”

“This is help,” the blue pixie replied, folding his arms. “We don’t know why you’re struggling any more than you do, but it would be better if we could help you stand on your own instead of just being there as backup when you fight a planar invader.”

“Yes!” Rory cried. “A thousand times yes! I am so ready for this.”

Jada nodded, though admitted, “I’m not entirely sure I believe you about this other magical girl, to be honest. I don’t think you have any reason to lie, but it sounds ridiculous.”

“The bureau is taking it seriously,” Carina retorted.

“Of course they are,” Thunder said. “It would be irresponsible not to. I don’t agree with Jada, for the record. If the bureau can grant magical powers, it stands to reason that other things can, as well.” Her wings buzzed excitedly. “Who knows what other kinds of magically-enhanced humans are out there!”

“Point is,” Jada said, “we’d feel pretty bad if you got seriously hurt because you didn’t have the support you needed.”

“I appreciate it,” Rory replied.

“…I do too,” Carina admitted. “I know this isn’t protocol—”

Thunder waved a hand and insisted, “We would never have even gotten a magical defender program if everyone stuck to protocol all the time.”

Rory sat his staff against one of the targets and said, “I have to know: do none of the magical girls in this city get along for real, or is it just me that everyone has a problem with? Because I’ve made friends with another magical girl from LA already, and I don’t feel like I’m friends with any of you.”

Jada shrugged and replied, “It’s a proximity thing. When you’re this close together, it always feels like everyone is edging in on your turf. Makes a girl defensive. …Or boy, I assume. No offense.”

“None taken.” What Rory wouldn’t give to make everyone forget he was a boy, if only for a little while. “So, what do we do first?”