IS THIS MAGIC?

Blades ’68 · Month 9 · Week 2 · When the World Becomes More

Mara had been watching the square for several minutes.

Not the people.

Not exactly.

The space itself.

CHIBI:
“You’re doing it again.”

MARA:
“What?”

CHIBI:
“Stopping.”

MARA:
“I’m looking.”

CHIBI:
“You can look while walking.”

MARA:
“You say that every time.”

CHIBI:
“Because every time you stop.”

Mara ignored him.

The celebration was still going.

Bluetime had ended.

The artificial blue had gone, and Doskvol had become night again.

Coloured lights hung between old buildings.

Plasmovision screens glowed over food stalls.

Music rolled through brick and iron.

Autopods moved along the streets beyond the square.

People danced.

People ate.

People laughed.

Nothing unusual.

And that was the problem.

MARA:
“Does it feel different to you?”

Chibi looked around.

CHIBI:
“Different from what?”

MARA:
“Before.”

CHIBI:
“Before when?”

MARA:
“Before it felt like this.”

He stared at her.

CHIBI:
“That is a terrible explanation.”

MARA:
“I know.”

CHIBI:
“Good.”

The song changed.

Slower now.

People moved closer together.

Someone raised a glass.

Another person copied them.

Then another.

A woman near the stage began singing.

More voices joined her.

Chibi knew the chorus.

He started immediately.

Mara waited.

Then joined too.

For a while, she forgot the question.

The words were easy.

The rhythm was easy.

Everybody seemed to know when the next line came.

That was nice.

Then Mara stopped singing.

Chibi noticed.

CHIBI:
“What?”

MARA:
“I don’t know.”

CHIBI:
“That’s twice.”

MARA:
“Shut up.”

She looked around again.

A woman was crying while smiling.

Two teenagers had their eyes closed.

An old man had removed his hat.

A child sitting on someone’s shoulders waved both hands even though he did not know the words.

Nothing magical.

Nothing frightening.

No ghost.

No strange light.

No impossible sound.

And still—

MARA:
“It feels bigger.”

Chibi stopped singing.

CHIBI:
“Than the square?”

MARA:
“Maybe.”

CHIBI:
“Than the song?”

MARA:
“Maybe.”

CHIBI:
“Than us?”

Mara frowned.

MARA:
“That sounds weird.”

CHIBI:
“It is weird.”

The chorus came again.

Hundreds of people sang.

Not perfectly.

Not even particularly well.

But together.

Mara whispered:

MARA:
“Is this magic?”

Chibi turned towards her.

For once, he did not grin.

CHIBI:
“I don’t know.”

Mara stared.

MARA:
“You always know.”

CHIBI:
“No. I usually pretend.”

MARA:
“I know.”

CHIBI:
“Then why did you say that?”

MARA:
“Because I wanted to see if you’d admit it.”

CHIBI:
“That’s cheating.”

MARA:
“That’s science.”

CHIBI:
“No, science has charts.”

MARA:
“That’s Stacy.”

CHIBI:
“Same thing.”

Mara laughed.

The song ended.

The feeling faded a little.

Not gone.

Just weaker.

MARA:
“See?”

CHIBI:
“What?”

MARA:
“It changed again.”

CHIBI:
“The music stopped.”

MARA:
“No. The feeling.”

Chibi looked around.

People were talking again.

Going for drinks.

Moving between tables.

Children were running.

Somebody shouted for food.

The square looked more ordinary.

CHIBI:
“Yeah.”

MARA:
“So the music did it.”

CHIBI:
“Maybe.”

MARA:
“But music isn’t magic.”

CHIBI:
“Depends who you ask.”

MARA:
“Not helpful.”

CHIBI:
“You ask difficult questions.”

MARA:
“You give bad answers.”

CHIBI:
“Good partnership.”

They wandered towards the edge of the square.

There, beside a fountain, small lights had been placed along the stone.

Mara stopped again.

CHIBI:
“Again.”

MARA:
“Quiet.”

Little cards sat beside the lights.

Names.

Mara read one.

Then another.

MARA:
“These are people.”

CHIBI:
“Probably.”

MARA:
“Dead people?”

Chibi looked.

CHIBI:
“Probably.”

An elderly woman approached the fountain.

She touched one of the cards.

Smiled.

Then walked away.

Mara watched her.

MARA:
“Why would you bring dead people to a party?”

CHIBI:
“Maybe they liked parties.”

MARA:
“That’s not what I mean.”

CHIBI:
“Maybe it should be.”

Mara looked at the little light.

MARA:
“Is that magic?”

CHIBI:
“No.”

MARA:
“That was quick.”

CHIBI:
“It’s an electric lamp.”

MARA:
“I know.”

CHIBI:
“Then question answered.”

MARA:
“No.”

Chibi sighed.

CHIBI:
“You keep asking whether things are magic when they are obviously still things.”

Mara turned to him.

MARA:
“What does that mean?”

CHIBI:
“The light is a light.”

MARA:
“Yes.”

CHIBI:
“The song is a song.”

MARA:
“Yes.”

CHIBI:
“The square is a square.”

MARA:
“Yes.”

CHIBI:
“And maybe none of that answers what you mean.”

Mara stared.

CHIBI:
“What?”

MARA:
“That sounded like Caelwyn.”

Chibi looked horrified.

CHIBI:
“No.”

MARA:
“It did.”

CHIBI:
“Take it back.”

MARA:
“No.”

He looked genuinely wounded.

Mara smiled.

Then she looked at the names again.

MARA:
“What if magic is when something is still itself, but somehow means more?”

CHIBI:
“That would make loads of things magic.”

MARA:
“Maybe.”

CHIBI:
“Birthdays?”

MARA:
“Maybe.”

CHIBI:
“Names?”

MARA:
“Maybe.”

CHIBI:
“Food?”

MARA:
“Not all food.”

CHIBI:
“My sweet thing?”

MARA:
“No.”

CHIBI:
“Sean dancing?”

MARA:
“Definitely not.”

Chibi laughed.

Then Mara looked towards the crowd again.

MARA:
“Ghosts are real.”

CHIBI:
“Yes.”

MARA:
“Resonance is real.”

CHIBI:
“Yes.”

MARA:
“So some impossible things really happen.”

CHIBI:
“Yes.”

MARA:
“But this doesn’t feel less magical just because nothing impossible happened.”

Chibi thought.

CHIBI:
“No.”

MARA:
“That’s annoying.”

CHIBI:
“Welcome to being alive.”

Mara stared at him.

CHIBI:
“What?”

MARA:
“Where did you hear that?”

CHIBI:
“Sean.”

MARA:
“Of course.”

A group of children ran past carrying coloured paper lanterns with tiny electric bulbs inside.

One handed Mara a lantern.

Another gave one to Chibi.

Then they vanished into the crowd.

Chibi examined his.

CHIBI:
“Switch.”

MARA:
“So?”

CHIBI:
“Ruins the mystery.”

Mara switched hers on.

Warm light filled the paper.

MARA:
“It’s still beautiful.”

CHIBI:
“Yes.”

MARA:
“You know how it works.”

CHIBI:
“Mostly.”

MARA:
“And it’s still beautiful.”

Chibi narrowed his eyes.

CHIBI:
“You’re doing philosophy.”

MARA:
“I’m eight.”

CHIBI:
“Too early.”

MARA:
“If knowing how something works doesn’t make it less beautiful, why should explaining a feeling make it less magical?”

Chibi thought.

A long time.

For him.

CHIBI:
“Maybe it shouldn’t.”

Mara smiled.

Then another song began.

This time there were no instruments at first.

Only one voice.

The singer called.

The crowd answered.

Call.

Answer.

Call.

Answer.

The whole square became attentive.

Even the food vendors slowed.

Even Sean stopped talking.

Even Stacy looked up.

Mara felt it again.

Stronger.

She held her lantern close.

MARA:
“This.”

Chibi nodded.

CHIBI:
“This.”

They listened.

The singer stopped.

The crowd continued.

Hundreds of voices.

No band.

No speakers.

Just people.

Mara felt something tighten in her chest.

She blinked.

Her eyes filled.

Chibi noticed.

CHIBI:
“Are you crying?”

MARA:
“No.”

CHIBI:
“You are.”

MARA:
“I’m not sad.”

CHIBI:
“I didn’t say you were.”

Mara looked at him.

That stopped her.

MARA:
“Then why am I crying?”

CHIBI:
“No idea.”

MARA:
“That’s six.”

CHIBI:
“Stop counting.”

She laughed.

That made the tears worse.

Chibi looked vaguely alarmed.

CHIBI:
“Should I get Stacy?”

MARA:
“No.”

CHIBI:
“Caelwyn?”

MARA:
“No.”

CHIBI:
“Sean?”

MARA:
“Absolutely not.”

CHIBI:
“Good.”

He stayed beside her.

That was enough.

The crowd reached the refrain.

Mara sang.

Chibi joined her.

Their little paper lanterns trembled in their hands.

For one minute, Mara stopped trying to decide what the feeling was.

She simply let it be there.

The lights were still lights.

The song was still a song.

The crowd was still only people.

The city was still Doskvol.

Nothing impossible had happened.

And none of that made the moment smaller.

The song ended.

Mara breathed out.

CHIBI:
“Magic?”

She thought.

Really thought.

Then smiled.

MARA:
“I don’t know.”

Chibi grinned.

CHIBI:
“Good answer.”

Later, Stacy noticed Mara’s face.

STACY:
“You’ve been crying.”

MARA:
“No.”

CHIBI:
“Yes.”

MARA:
“Traitor.”

Stacy knelt closer.

STACY:
“Are you all right?”

Mara nodded.

MARA:
“I wasn’t sad.”

STACY:
“I know.”

MARA:
“How?”

STACY:
“People cry for more than one reason.”

Mara looked towards Caelwyn.

MARA:
“Can I ask something?”

CAELWYN:
“Always.”

MARA:
“If something feels magical…”

She looked at the lantern.

MARA:
“…but nobody did magic…”

Then towards the crowd.

MARA:
“…is it still magic?”

Stacy opened her mouth.

Stopped.

Caelwyn noticed.

Mara noticed too.

MARA:
“You don’t know.”

STACY:
“I know how I would test whether something supernatural happened.”

MARA:
“That’s not what I asked.”

STACY:
“No.”

Caelwyn smiled.

CAELWYN:
“Maybe those are two different questions.”

Mara groaned.

MARA:
“Of course they are.”

Chibi nodded wisely.

CHIBI:
“Caelwyn.”

CAELWYN:
“Did something supernatural happen?”

MARA:
“I don’t know.”

CAELWYN:
“That needs evidence.”

MARA:
“And the other question?”

CAELWYN:
“Did something ordinary suddenly feel like more than ordinary life?”

Mara nodded.

CAELWYN:
“That one may not need evidence.”

MARA:
“Why?”

Caelwyn looked towards the singing crowd.

CAELWYN:
“Because you experienced it.”

Mara looked at the lantern again.

Completely ordinary.

Completely explainable.

Still beautiful.

Behind it, hundreds of ordinary human beings filled an ordinary square with their voices.

Still extraordinary.

Maybe that was the important part.

Not deciding too quickly whether the moment was magic.

Or religion.

Or psychology.

Or Resonance.

Or memory.

Or love.

Maybe first came the moment itself.

The instant when something perfectly ordinary suddenly seemed capable of holding more meaning than it should.

Mara looked at Chibi.

MARA:
“Do you think this is how people invented magic?”

CHIBI:
“Maybe.”

MARA:
“Religion?”

CHIBI:
“Maybe.”

MARA:
“Stories?”

CHIBI:
“Definitely.”

MARA:
“How do you know?”

CHIBI:
“Because stories start when somebody says, ‘Something happened.’”

Mara smiled.

MARA:
“And then?”

Chibi shrugged.

CHIBI:
“Everyone argues about what.”

That sounded about right.

Have you ever had a moment like that as a child — when lights, music, a fire, a crowd, a name, a story or an ordinary place suddenly felt like something more?

Did you call it magic then?

And what would you call it now?

Tell us about the first time the ordinary world felt enchanted to you.

Explore Blades ’68 with Mythveil Chronicles.