Warlock Ch 2. Awakening
The thugs exchanged glances before deciding it wasn't worth the fight.
With a final sneer in Evelyn's direction, they stumbled toward the exit. The pub's patrons watched in silence, a few murmurs breaking out as the door slamd shut behind the two goons.
Damian exhaled, rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension. He glanced around the bar, noticing everyone's eyes still glued to him. "Alright, folks, show's over," he called, waving his hand in the air like it was just another Tuesday night. Slowly, the pub returned to its usual hum of chatter and clinking glasses.
He turned back to Evelyn, who hadn't moved from her spot at the bar. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes... there was sothing in them, sothing beyond simple gratitude.
"Well," Damian said, leaning against the bar and catching his breath, "that was more excitent than I usually get around here."
Evelyn tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You didn't have to step in."
Damian chuckled, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Yeah, well, they looked like they were about to do sothing stupid. Figured I'd save you the trouble."
She smiled, a small, almost secretive smile. "Thank you. That was brave."
There was a flicker in her eyes—admiration mixed with sothing else. Sothing he couldn't quite put his finger on. Damian felt a strange warmth settle in his chest, the adrenaline giving way to a feeling that had nothing to do with the fight.
"No problem. I've handled worse," he said casually, though he couldn't help but hold her gaze for a second longer than necessary. "What about you? Seed like those guys had a bone to pick with you."
Evelyn's smile faded just a little, replaced by a hint of sothing more serious. "Let's just say I've made a few enemies over the years."
Damian raised an eyebrow. "Enemies, huh? You in so kind of trouble?"
She hesitated for a mont, her eyes flicking to the door as if expecting the thugs to co back. "Trouble follows ," she said softly, her voice carrying an almost musical quality now, like the words themselves were laced with sothing... more.
Damian felt his pulse quicken again, but not from fear. There was sothing about her voice, the way it wrapped around his thoughts, making him feel... drawn in. He shook his head, trying to focus.
"You handled yourself pretty well back there," Evelyn said, her eyes locking onto his. "I've known warlocks who couldn't have moved that quickly. Or with such strength."
"Warlocks?" Damian repeated, confused. "I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm just a bartender." Now, he thought she was also drunk.
Evelyn's smile returned, but this ti, it was knowing. "Are you?"
Damian blinked, unsure how to respond. He was about to ask her what she ant when she placed her hand gently on his arm. It wasn't a heavy touch, but Damian felt sothing stir inside him—like a door creaking open just a crack. There was warmth where her fingers rested, a sensation that spread through him, strange but not unpleasant.
"You've got more inside you than you realize," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "There's a reason I was drawn here tonight, Damian. It wasn't just luck."
Damian opened his mouth to say sothing—anything—but the words got stuck in his throat. He stared at her, feeling a sudden pull, like gravity itself had shifted. The warmth in his chest grew, spreading to his arms, his legs, his mind.
"What are you talking about?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse.
Evelyn's eyes glowed faintly, and for a brief mont, he swore he saw a shimr of light around her. "You're not just a bartender, Damian. You're sothing else. Sothing... more."
His heart pounded in his chest, the warmth turning into heat. He glanced down at his hands, expecting to see sothing—anything—but they looked the sa. His muscles tensed, his body feeling heavier and lighter all at once.
"What the hell...?" he muttered, his mind racing.
Evelyn's hand slipped away from his arm, and instantly, the sensation faded, leaving him feeling almost cold in its absence. She stood up straight, her gaze still locked on his, but now there was no smile, no playfulness. Just a calm certainty.
"You'll understand soon enough," she said, her voice carrying that sa enchanting quality. "But for now... just trust ."
Damian swallowed, his throat dry. "And if I don't?"
Evelyn's eyes softened again, her expression almost... fond. "You already do."
Damian couldn't argue with that. Sothing had shifted in him the mont she'd touched him, sothing he couldn't explain but knew deep down wasn't going away anyti soon. He wasn't sure what was happening, but one thing was certain—his life wasn't as simple as he'd thought.
He took a breath, trying to steady himself. "Alright, Evelyn," he said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "What the hell is going on? That... feeling. What did you do to ?"
Evelyn leaned against the bar, her gaze soft but intense. "I didn't do anything. Not really. All I did was nudge sothing that was already inside you. Sothing that's been dormant for a long ti."
Damian frowned. "Dormant? Inside ? Look, I'm just a bartender. I've never—"
"I will say this once again. You're not just a bartender, Damian," Evelyn said, her voice calm but firm. "There's magic in this world—more than you realize. You've just been living in the parts of it that don't see it. But it's there. All around you."
Damian let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Magic? Really? Co on. You expect to believe that?"
"I expect you to feel it," she replied simply, leaning in just a little closer. "You felt it back there, didn't you? When you fought those n. Sothing inside you woke up."
He didn't want to admit it, but she wasn't wrong. He had felt it—like so part of him had co alive in the heat of the mont, guiding him, making him faster, stronger. He'd never been in a fight like that before, but sohow... he hadn't hesitated. It had all been instinct.
"Okay," Damian muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Let's say, for argunt's sake, that I felt sothing. That doesn't an I'm... whatever it is you think I am."
Evelyn smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You're a warlock, Damian."
"A warlock," he repeated, the word sounding absurd in his mouth. "You're ssing with , right?"
"I'm serious. The ones you just defeated weren't ordinary humans. They were combat mages. Still, newbies, but ordinary people shouldn't be able to defeat them," she said, her tone shifting. "There's magic in your body. It's why you were able to react so quickly, why you felt that pull. Warlocks have the ability to form pacts, and those pacts grant them power—real power. But you need guidance. Without it, you're vulnerable."
Damian blinked, trying to process everything she was throwing at him.
Warlocks? Pacts?
It sounded like sothing out of one of those fantasy novels his friends used to read in high school. But the way she was looking at him, so sure, so calm... It was unsettling.
He opened his mouth to say sothing, but Evelyn cut him off. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but there's sothing you need to understand. Your actions tonight—they've drawn attention."
"Attention?" Damian frowned. "From who?"
"From others like ," she said, her voice dropping slightly, adding an edge of warning. "And others who are... not like . You see, when you tap into magic like that, it sends ripples through the magical world. You're on the radar now, and trust , there are plenty of people—plenty of beings—who would love nothing more than to exploit soone with your potential."
Damian's pulse quickened. "Exploit ? Why?"
"Because you're new to this," Evelyn explained, her eyes locked on his. "You don't know how to control it yet. That makes you valuable to people who want to use your power for their own purposes. They'll either try to manipulate you or... take what's inside you."
Damian stared at her. He wasn't sure how much of this he believed yet, but he could feel the tension in her voice. It wasn't just a casual warning—this was serious. He wasn't just in over his head; he was drowning in sothing he didn't even know existed until a few minutes ago.
"Alright," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. "So, what do I do now?"
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