Please, not again,Jackson begs in his heart.
* * *
Hakeem loosens the grip on his bag’s strap and levels his silvery eyes towards Jackson. An unfounded confidence fills them.
“Jackson!” Hakeem shouts back over the winds to the man bound in shadows, “I have an idea to fix this. I know it’s crazy, but I need you to trust me.”
Jackson has no reason to believe the man he had met less than an hour ago knows what he’s talking about, but something deep inside does. He looks into Hakeem’s eyes, silver orbs that shine like the moon under the light, unable to deny the unshakable confidence that fills them. The bizarre pull he feels towards this random mage. Against all logic, bound to his spot by unruly tendrils of shadow, Jackson nods his head once. “I trust you. Just please, be careful.”
Hakeem steels his resolve, taking a careful step forward, then another and another. Wind whips through his hair, tousling his unruly curls even further. He holds onto his glasses with one hand, the other grasping the strap to his messenger bag, desperate to keep both from flying off. The shadows don’t impede him, it’s almost as if they make room for him to walk to the mana well in the terrace’s center, closing the glass doors at his back. The air around the crystal ball is so thick with magic that it becomes hard to breathe for a moment. The magic screams out to him, a siren’s song in the middle of a stormy sea, piercing through the clap of thunder.
Jackson can’t help but watch in fascination as the man before him stares down the mana well in front of them. Hakeem takes his hand off his glasses, which threaten to fly off his face as the wind continues to rage around them; he doesn’t care as he reaches for the crystal ball sitting atop the runed bricks. As Hakeem’s hand comes in contact, the ball erupts in a blindingexplosion of green light.
* * *
A blast of wind sends Jackson hurtling through the air on the terrace crashing into the glass doors at this back. Glass shards go flying, cuts forming across Jackson’s arms and face. They would heal shortly but that isn’t his concern, nor is the glass scattered across his apartment. Jackson’s mind settles on the man he left on the terrace, surrounded by his unruly magic. “Hakeem!”
Please, I beg of you, not again. He’s innocent.
Jackson reaches a hand out as he struggles to his feet. As he looks up, scared of what he’ll find, he is left speechless.
Hakeem is standing on the terrace; glasses fallen to the ground by his feet, surely cracked, surrounded by a gentle swirl of green magic. At first he doesn’t recognize it, but then the familiar feeling sweeps over him. That is his magic, not tendrils of darkness, but a beautiful swirl of forest green surrounding Hakeem in a gentle halo. Hakeem smiles sweetly, the small gesture still filling his soft cheeks, as the magic goes from green to silver in his hands, and turns to Jackson. “See?” The words escape him in a breathless exhale. “Told you I had an idea.”
Jackson cautiously makes his way over to Hakeem, glass crunching under his feet. Thank goodness for house slippers: even for Jackson, glass cutting the soles of his feet would not be pleasant no matter how fast it healed. “How?” Jackson reaches for Hakeem’s hands, stopping himself from taking hold of them. “How is this possible?”
Jackson picks up Hakeem’s glasses, cracked from the fall, and hands them back to him. Hakeem places them on his forehead and directs his attention to the bewildered elf before him. “I have a theory, those are kinda my specialty, heh.” He bites his lower lip and averts his gaze, “Um, this is gonna sound weird but I need you to wish you knew the answer. I’m half Djinn so it should allow me to craft a spell to answer all your questions. Normally I don’t have enough mana to answer a question for a mess this big. But,”Hakeem looks at the green mana turning silver in his hands, “I think I do this time, especially if my theory is right.”
Jackson shakes his head in disbelief, running a hand through his hair and scoffs. “Nothing is weirder than what just happened, so fuck it all. Hakeem,” Jackson stares into Hakeem’s shining silver eyes, rolls his shoulders back and fixes his stance. “I wish we knew what the hell just happened.”
Hakeem offers a shy half smile, “As you wish.” He claps his hands together.
Magic circles the men standing on the terrace, encompassing them in a vortex of green and silver. A shiny cord of silver emerges from Hakeem’s chest, turns green half way through, and connects to the bare chest displayed by Jackson’s deep v-shirt. The answer rings clear in their minds as the swirl of magic fades from around them, along with the shining cord connecting them. Hakeem looks at Jackson in an excited bewilderment, as Jackson regards the mage in disbelief and shock.
Jackson’s words are barely a whisper as he acknowledges the answer the wish poured into his mind. “You….you’re my perfect match. A mana match. Holy shit…..HOLY SHIT!”
Hakeem nods his head, a little too excited for Jackson’s taste, curls bouncing on his head, unable to hide the thrill of this discovery. “Yes. Yes, it would seem I am, Jackson.”
A mana match, or a perfect match, both terms scientifically correct. It refers to two individuals whose mana signature is an exact match for one another. Mana signatures are an expression of one’s mana, one’s soul. Direct family members like siblings or parents could have an 80% match to each other’s mana signatures, but never exact. Exact matches are rare and coveted. It’s like finding someone whose soul is an exact copy of yours. It is said strong bonds are inevitable between two people who share the same mana. The magic pulling them together in an odd understanding that simple words could never convey.
And now, Jackson Nocturne, one who has grown to hate his magic and has never before today seen it look so…beautiful; has found his perfect match. Hakeem Al-Najim, born with little mana flowing through his veins, now filled with the abundant magic of another, that feels like his own.
Jackson bursts into a manic cackle, a hand running across his face, causing Hakeem to jump in his spot. “Oh my gods! Brenda Lee, you ridiculous old crone. How could you have possibly predicted this? You beautiful psycho.” Jackson buckles over, holding his side from laughter, tears filling his eyes.
“Jackson?” Hakeem takes a wary step forward, hand slightly outreached. “Are you ok? You crashed through the door hard. How badly were you cut? Do I need to call someone?”
Jackson grasps Hakeem’s hand firmly in his, causing Hakeem to swallow a yelp, neck and cheeks erupting in a blush of rose.
Jackson steadies himself and looks at the hand he held in his. Seeing Hakeem’s shocked face he lets his hand go and straightens his back. “I’m fine, I heal fast.” He points to the fading scars across his face, and flashes Hakeem a smirk letting his fangs extend into view. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me.”
Hakeem’s eyes go wide at the revelation, noticing the sun is still proudly shining in the clear January sky. “I’ve heard only the most powerful vampires can walk under the light of day. You really are fascinating, Jackson.”
Hakeem realizes he’s staring. Heat sneaks up his neck and he turns his gaze away from Jackson quickly.
Jackson chuckles at the reaction and rubs the back of his neck. He takes a few steps towards the man in front of him and stops when they are toe to toe. “Elf with vampiric properties is more accurate, and I’m afraid that word is wasted on someone like me. But, I’ll attempt to take the compliment nonetheless. Now I believe we need to get you a lease to sign, don’t we?”
Hakeem perks up immediately at that. When Hakeem turns to face Jackson, who is now much closer than before, he takes an audible gulp and squints.Right, cracked glasses.“Really? No other questions? I got the room?” Hakeem can hardly hide his disbelief.
Jackson offers a warm smile. Somewhere in his mind he knew this was the right call. “You seem like a good guy. My magic seems to like you more than it likes me. So, why the hell not? I assume you can cover the first andlast month’s rent?”
