Whiskey and Blood

“Awesome! I was worried I couldn’t use magic”

“Most people can” Bramm was fidgeting nervously.

“Will I be able to grow plants like mother?”

“Hopefully”

“How about your power? I’ve never seen you use it”.

His father’s magic was never brought up.

Bramm sighed. Since Finn turned three he had been a bundle of nerves.

“And you never will. ”

“Yeah yeah, the blood’s rotten. Or whatever nonsense they keep babbling behind your back”

He knew. Bramm was a good man.

Gwen giggled. The man froze for a moment. He still wasn’t used to such a receptive three year old. Ever since he could finally form coherent sentences, he couldn’t help himself. Damien always held his tongue, that was the “right thing to do”. Now, Finn had to speak up.

“You really are your mother’s son” Brann smiled weakly.

“And just like me, he’s a genius.” interjected the woman.

Finn and Gwen bumped their fists.

”Have you ever seen a three year old speak or read like he does?”

”I’m four and a half” Finn corrected.

For some reason, he couldn’t get used to the eighteen month calendar.
Bramm raised an eyebrow

”That’s your genius?”

The two began to laugh, the tension was gone. The mother sat close to the father and nestled her head on his shoulder.

”You’ll finally open that prized booze of yours. I’m sure of it”

”Not booze. Fine aged whiskey. This is the stuff the council drinks.”

The bottle was in the small cellar right beneath the living room. Tall, sinuous and filled to the brim with amber liquid, it was the jewel of a meager collection. The black wax seal, never touched, was sitting on top of it like a little crown.

———————————————————————————————————-

“Magic….GO!”

He flapped his little hand up and down at the plant.
Nothing.
Finn sighed. What if he inherited his father’s magic?

“The blood’s rotten”

”Never trust him”

Most people disliked the man, but were never upfront about it. They needed Gwen too much.

“Just tell me what your power is, you stubborn old goat!”

He and Bramm were roughly the same age.

“I know I’m four and a half, but I have a right to know why people might despise me!”

Was his dream dead on arrival? He shook his head, as if trying to shoo the thought.

“No. Don’t panic. You’re using save file one as a moral compass again. In this world, who knows what they could find rotten.”

“Yes, yes. What if my power is being really good at math.”

He sprung up on his feet and began circling around his small room.

“Who knows, I could even build some kind of smartphone”

The children, the drunkards, the smug rich people who lazed around all day popped into his mind. Even the green lipped performer peaked in. 

“Would you really strike innocent children with the blight of technology?”

Finn stopped.

“Yes”

He went back to his pacing. The window right beside the bookshelf was welcoming the morning sun, its light like a spotlight for the floating dust particles.

”I better start learning about rocks”

He went towards the library, disrupting the particles' dance. They had one geology book in the house. Despite being exiled from her family, Gwen was forced to study. Apparently, she hated it, but still kept the books. He stretched his arm toward the bookshelf.

”I’ve been meaning to open—“

All the books exploded open with a loud boom. Finn was hit by a storm of paper right on his face.

“What happened?!”

”Finn!”

The voices of the parents echoed through the house. When they opened the door, Finn was sitting on the ground while the torn pieces of paper slowly fell like snow. The books - at least what remained of them - were all spread open.
Gwen ran and scooped him up.

”Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

Bramm was silently watching him. His face looked forlorn, empty of all hope.

The family sat at the table for what felt like a silent eternity. Finn, however, didn’t mind. He kept watching his hands.

“Can I explode things? No… it was different… the books opened” he thought.

Bramm finally worked up the composure to speak

“To open virtually anything. This is our bloodline magic”

Finn jumped up from the chair. Just like he suspected.

”Awesome!”

Bramm slammed his fist on the table

“Not awesome! Nothing but thieves, that’s what people see when they look at us”

”But we are not thieves”

Bramm snickered

”First of my name”

”Oh..”

The man sighed again, like a teapot weakly releasing steam.

“I worked all my life trying to rehabilitate our reputation, but my ancestors lived as thieving rats for generations. It’s not a stain that’s easy to wipe”

Finn wanted to say that children don't inherit their father’s sins but, in this world, people were actually defined by their blood.

“I hoped you’d inherit your mother’s power, but I ended up cursing you with mine.”

To Finn, however, it didn’t seem like a curse at all.

“Son… I won’t sugarcoat it. People will treat you differently, assume the worst of you, always be wary around you. That’s what happened to me.”

Bramm looked him straight into his eyes. A glimmer of false hope briefly lit the man’s expression

“But you are not me. You are smarter, more observant. I’m sure you’ll be able to build something incredible. Just…for your own good, promise. Promise me you’ll never use this wretched jinx of ours”

Finn remained silent for a moment. He understood. If magic was tied to blood, it was natural for a stigma to form around powers that were useless or even a detriment to society. The right thing to do would be to listen to Bramm.

“Following the right thing to do made me kill myself” he thought

“Sorry Bramm, but I won’t be chained again by societal nonsense”

Finn broke his silence, an affected, taut smile appeared on his face.

“I understand. I promise. I’ll work hard to make friends and find a woman like mother.”

Gwenn broke her stillness and hugged her kid. It was the first time Finn had ever seen the woman keep silent for this long. Bramm exhaled, slowly and heavily. The weight of the situation clearly still burdening him.

“Good.”

That evening, the man was sitting on his padded chair, obsessively focusing on the garden wall right in front of him. On the small table beside the chair, the bottle of whiskey, still closed. Finn observed from afar. The man sat utterly still, yet in a split second, the sealed bottle cleanly popped open. Bramm poured a generous glass of the honey-like liquid and drank in deafening silence.