Tier 3+ Story 📜 "The Magician" (Intermission & Act 11) (Patreon)

Content (for the whole story): original content, w/w, cryptid (?) pregnancy, nb(?)preg, sexual & kink awakening, demons, stuffing, nausia, gender ambiguity, birth, transphobia, dysphoria, depression & suicidal thoughts, parental conflicts

Quicklinks: Read all from the start | Act 1-3 | Act 4 | Act 5 | Act 6 | Act 7 | Act 8 | Act9 | Act 10 

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T H E  ☆ M A G I C I A N

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Intermission

Rosemary

To be frank, she would really have loved to experience the ride with sight. The antiquated interior, Paris passing by, looking at Melodie again…

But with all those feelings raging inside of her, it probably wouldn’t have been possible to enjoy, anyways. She was a mess. If she’d be forced to, she wouldn’t even have been able to tell what she felt the most. Or what those feelings exactly were. By now, they just were a big, mushy … something.

So instead she focused on the mild smell of the roses, the feeling of being swayed back and forth in the (probably shock absorber-free) car and the brassy sound of the radio. It played the original “La Vie En Rose” by Édith Piaf, as if the radio station wanted to underscore her vintage experience.

“I obviously can’t show you the trick, love,” Melodie stated after a while, “but I can tell you the exact moment when it happens. Would you like that?”

“Yes," Mary answered simply, without even knowing what the trick was.

“Great,” Melodie said, and her voice sounded excited. A moment later Mary felt her hand grabbed by Melodie’s, then gently squished, rounded off by the familiar tingling sensations she hadn’t experienced for weeks. “Get ready - in three, two, one…”

Mary didn’t know what she actually had expected. Maybe like… a sparkle-y sound, like chimes or something. Or that nothing happened and all, and it was just all about “knowing” that something just happened.

But what actually happened was completely unforeseen.

The radio, the light and the sounds of the city around them… just, well, vanished, all at the same time. She still heard the motor running, and still could feel Melodie’s hand, but everything else was just… gone.

It was only for the blink of an eye, and then the ride went back to normal. No, wait…not completely normal: The sounds of the city were absent.

Not long after, the car began to slow down, shaking a little strangely as if it wasn’t driving on a proper road anymore, until coming to an abrupt stop.

“It is done. You can take off your blindfold, dearest.”

Mary did so, and was absolutely perplexed by what she saw.

She was still in the car, and so was Melodie. Even Édith Piaf was still singing to them. In fact, nothing inside the car had changed. Outside, on the other hand…

The bustle of downtown paris had been replaced with a beautiful countryside; a beautiful forest to their right, a rippling river to their left and the scent of fresh air all around them.

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Act 11

Rosemary

“How … how….?” was all that Mary could verbalize.

Melodie looked straight at her, smiled, and said simply “Magic” in a in a theatrical whisper. The word was punctuated by her fingers moving through the air as if she was playing a mystical, invisible instrument. She then quickly grabbed her cane, left the car and walked around it to open Mary’s door, offering her hand.

“Mademoiselle, if you please?”

Mary took her hand, not only in awe, but complete shock. She had no idea how one would come even close to doing something like this, unless they made her black out, or use  … maybe … some kind of . . .

No, it just wasn’t possible. Right?

Mary now fully understood why some people would call Melodie the greatest magician alive. In any case, it must have been an insanely elaborate, premeditated, and most likely very expensive trick. And all of that not for cameras or a big audience, but just for Mary.

Her heart began to pound wildly.

Melodie helped her out of the car, then guided her towards the riverside.

“I .. wow, I … that was absolutely amazing ….”

“Thank you, love. Now - are you hungry? Or may I offer you a cup of tea?”

Only now did Mary notice the little setup in the grass, right under a weeping willow. It featured a white blanket on the ground like at a picnic, but on it was a low table, high enough so that you could comfortably sit on one of the big cushions. A sheet of the same color as the picnic blanket adorned it, and right on top were a variety of tableware and foods. There was an étagère full of pastel violet macarons, a big jug of what looked like homemade lemonade with whole slices of citrus fruits and mint inside, a can with possibly coffee or tea, and other miscellaneous odds and ends.

It looked like a picture perfect image from a Victorian garden magazine.

“Melodie…” Mary whispered, now entirely overwhelmed.

“Please, take a seat. May I suggest this side? You’ll have a nice view of the trees hanging into the river, and won’t fall victim to blinding sunlight.”

Mary blindly followed her gesture and settled on the suggested cushion.

This all felt like a dream.

Her host put down the trunk and joined her on the other side of the table.

“Did you prepare all of this by yourself…?” Mary asked.

“Well, I did not bake those macarons. These things are awfully hard to make, even for someone who can actually bake, unlike me. But I did make the lemonade, I’ll proudly admit.”

“I… I didn’t mean the food…”

Melody just smiled mysteriously at her without elaborating. She then grabbed the teapot.

“Tea?” she asked.

“What kind?”

“Any kind you want.”

Mary laughed. “Oh, is that so? Then, let’s say, lavender.”

Melodie pursed her lips. “Interesting! An acquired taste, I’d say.” She tilted the pot and poured some water into Mary’s cup, still hot thanks to a candle-operated pot warmer, and it occurred to Mary that she hadn’t seen Melodie light the candle.

When the water reached the porcelain, however, it shifted into a darker hue, and the aroma of lavender filled the air.

Melodie then poured in something for herself from the same pot, and the tea in her cup was tinted orange.

Mary could only sit and gape in marveled silence.

“Do you like it? Drew the inspiration for that trick from Mary Poppins. Who is, by the way, one of my childhood inspirations.”

“The medicine scene,” Mary acknowledged and took a sip of her tea., “I remember! Wow, this really is lavender tea, though.”

“Of course, my little dove, I wouldn’t just offer you colored water now, would I?”

Mary took a deep breath.

“This is all very lovely and fascinating, but that’s enough beating around the bush, Melodie. I want to hear why you didn’t call, or else I can’t enjoy myself. And please, don’t call me your little dove until then.”

Her host seemed to be taken aback by her direct, frontal approach, but regained posture quickly.

“Of course. It’s… it’s quite simple, I’m afraid.”

(Artworks by Serialfiller1, Mood edit by RoseVirage)

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▶️ NEXT CHAPTER  

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Story written by RoseVirage Proof Readers: Doombeez, Dutch Consultant: EN_NSFW, Emotional Support Reader: Serialfiller1 

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