Understanding the Difference

 Razar sat on the outcrop above the still lake and orchestrated the world. His eyes were bandaged over – mere habit by now, since he was well past that stage of learning – but he knew what he stared at. Images played out against the darkness of his eyelids; birds of the air, stooping at fish that swam below the surface of the lake. Grass, bobbing gently in the breeze. A few flowers. The rocks around him, moss-covered and wind worn. And – he turned his head slightly, hearing the footsteps – people on their way up the path.

 Razar raised a hand to still his creation, freezing everything in the act. A fish was caught mid-leap, inches from being snapped up by a diving bird that wasn’t native to this area or world. Furry seeds scattered in the air by his head, and he brushed them absentmindedly away as he reached for the tie to the cloth covering his eyes.

 Then he stopped, and smirked to himself. He would hear their reaction, first.

 Dropping his hands into his lap, he waited for their arrival.

 Almost as an afterthought, he set the world moving again. The bird caught the fish up and barrel rolled under another as it jumped high from the silent lake.

 The steps were irregular, behind him. Someone was hurt? What were they doing walking all the way up here, then?

 “Can we please stop walking soon? Seriously, my legs are killing me.” The first words he heard from his visitors, and they were whining already.

 “Oh, would you like to borrow one of mine?” Judging by the sound of the other one, he’d been whining for a while.

 Something thumped into the ground. A bag?

 “I am taking a break,” announced the first. “Whether you like it or not.”

 “We’ve arrived.” The second came closer, with her strange, limping gait. She was using a staff? “Are you Razar?”

 And she could see him. That was odd.

 “Who are you talking to? Have you finally lost it?”

 A stick prodded into Razar’s back. “I’m talking to you.”

 “I know,” Razar said, sweeping away the part of the illusion that hid himself. “Who sent you?”

 “Some old g – ow!”

 “Linus Cortez.”

 “Ah.” Razar stood up, taking a step forward.

 “Hey – watch yourself!” The male yelled out. “What kind of stupid–”

 “Basil!”

 Razar snorted and untied the wrap from over his eyes, turning to face them.

 The woman, standing nearer, leant on a hefty wooden staff that was carved with flowing lines made to imply pictures rather than show them. Her left leg had been replaced with a stiff looking metal thing, clearly built for endurance rather than grace, which would explain the oddness of her walk. There was an old scar up her right cheek, and her hands were crossed lightly by scars.

 He met her dark grey eyes – dark, but still somehow light compared to the dark colour of her skin – and found she’d been studying him just as much.

 “You appear to be standing on air, I believe my companion is trying to say.”

 Razar glanced down and saw the lake below him. “So I am.” He laughed, and swept the illusion away.

 The plateau stretched out into the distance, broken by cracks that worked their way back down to sea level. Nothing lived up here, with as little vegetation as there was.

 The boy beyond her – really not much younger than Razar, but he was acting like a child – was slumped back against his pack, no longer watching them. Forgettable.

 “So.” Razar looked back to the woman. “Linus sent you.”

 The woman nodded.

 “Said some bullshit about the spinner of lies.” The boy flicked his hand at Razar. “I suppose that’s you, with your little… whatever it is.”

 No wonder the woman was snapping at him. Razar was close to that as well, and it had barely been five minutes.

 “I guess it’s time for me to come down.”

 “From cloud nine? I’d say.”

 Razar took a deep breath.

 “Basil is… abrasive,” the woman said softly. “But he’s my charge, for the moment.”

 “And you are…?”

 “Rhiannon.” She took a step forward, offering him her hand.

 Razar smiled and spun a crown into his hands, bowing as he offered her it. “Your majesty.”

 Rhiannon stared at it, then him. Then she laughed, clear and bright. The laughter of a child, almost.

 Razar set the crown down on her head and made it sparkle in the sun.

 “It’s all very pretty, your fantasy.” Basil was sitting up now, taking notice of them. “What’s the use of it, though?”

 “All magic has its purpose, even if you don’t see them.”

 “I’m sure it does. For like… kids’ shows. Performances.”

 Razar was going to ignore Basil. That seemed like the best decision.

 “Do you know where we’re going from here?” Rhiannon asked. “Linus just told us this place.”

 “Told you. He told you this place. He just told me to follow you.”

 “Ok, seriously kid, shut the hell up.”

 “Kid?” Basil got to his feet, dusting himself down. “Kid, are you f–”

 “Basil!” Rhiannon shot him a glare over her shoulder. “You are only proving his point.”

 Razar smirked at Basil, and wiped it from his face as Rhiannon turned back to him. “He’ll get the next place to us.”

 “This is how he works?” Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. “Seems… convoluted.”

 “Like some kinda fantasy quest,” Basil muttered, stretching.

 “Nothing wrong with that.” Razar shrugged.

 “It isn’t how life works.”

 “Well… maybe not on your world.” Razar gestured around him. “But out here – well, you’ll see.”

 “Yeah, sure, let’s just bail out on reality for a while. Go on some… stupid quest with the king of lies. Sounds like a plan.”

 Razar clenched a fist, breathing deeply. This was going to be difficult.

 “It’s not some… fae quest,” Rhiannon said, and she said it as if the words were meant to mean something more.

 Basil flinched at that. Actually flinched. The kid had… some kind of history. Maybe they should…

 “Let’s start again?” Razar suggested, walking over to Basil. “I’m Razar. I use visualisation magic, illusions.”

 “You mess with the reality of things,” Basil said bluntly. “I used to do that too. Escaping.”

 Razar offered his hand. “Visualisation – fantasy isn’t really… escaping reality. It’s more… trying to understand it.”

 Basil hesitated, head cocked, considering him. “Basil. Transference magic.” He clasped Razar’s hand, shaking it.

 The deep, deep barking call of a thul-gor reverberated across the plateau and Rhiannon looked up.

 “I suppose that’s our sign.” She pointed with her staff towards a split in the sky, a darker strip of yellowing purple.

 “Fairy quest it is.” Razar smiled. “Should be interesting.”

 Basil nodded and swung his bag onto his back.

 Maybe he wasn’t such a bad kid after all.