Long Summer

Ksenia had to stifle a yawn as she turned her head to face the window of the lounge. The sun was out and shining brightly outside that day, reminding everyone that when summer did come to Russia, it was just as cruel as winter, hot and unrelenting. Over the past few years that the witch had resided in the country, she had found its personality suiting very much to her own changing one.

The Slushatel turned her head back and flicked a page of the magazine she was pretending to read. It was one of those flashy magazines that so many girls her own age liked. The summer days seemed to have stretched on and on forever and there was just so much time that the witch could handle being in the library looking for a prophecy which actual existence she was questioning at this point. Another page was turned,and the far too analytical eyes focused on the words. Her back was far too straight, her whole form was far too poised for an activity of an average girl that was only chosen to distract her mind. Though the only thing that it was doing was giving her a headache.

Nolan strolled into the lounge, unsurprised that, once again, the room was entirely uninhabited. It seemed to him that everyone in the mafia was a workaholic. Either that, or they were too terrified for their lives to slack off. The man was neither, as he was rarely ever truly frightened of anything, and he got work done so efficiently, that he no longer needed to work hard. In fact, he was considering taking on another job purely out of boredom. Maybe a professor somewhere. He always had fun frightening children, why shouldn't he do it for money?

He was about to turn away when he noticed that he, in fact, wasn't alone. "You know," he said to the girl, "Today isn't entirely intolerable. In fact, one could say that it's nice. Being the age you are, I'm surprised you're not spending it outside." He walked over to a chair across from her, his hands in his pockets, "I'm curious. What's so important that it's enough to keep you holed up in here?"

Ksenia looked up as she heard someone speak. She was enterily too lost in her thoughts to have heard t hat someone had entered the room. The Slushatel had to lift her head a few more inches to recognise the man that stood in front of her. The girl's hand was in the process of turning yet another page of that dreadful magazine. She supposed she looked rather amusing like that, her whole composure nothing but elegant, and yet such a common form of entertainment sitting right in front of her.

"Weren't there any watchdogs outside this room?" she said, her voice was emotionless and rather dry. "Or maybe they have inserted some steel rods over the windows," she said of handedly as she leaned back in her chair. She didn't say anything for a few moments before sighing. "I'm sorry. Most people my age do not have a growing sense of paranoia. It's much better staying in here then having to go outside and knowing that you are being followed everywhere you go."

Nolan gave a somewhat-bitter smile and sat down, "I hate to say it, but you're flattering yourself. In this organization, family means both everything and nothing. When you were being considered for marrying Lucifer, you're heritage was an asset. But now that you're truly one of us, it means next to nothing. At least, not to people like me. To be perfectly honest, you're nothing more than an expendable, and the only thing keeping you from the front lines is your youth."

He pulled out his wand and out of thin air appeared a glass of scotch. The man held the drink and sat back in his chair, "And you haven't killed enough people to be paranoid. Not yet, anyway."

"I think me and Lucifer were the only people who did not consider that marriage," Ksenia couldn't help but laugh slightly at that statement, her expression remaining as stoic as before. "I still have my magical connection with Lucifer. I doubt very much gather they would be sending me to the front lines with that. And besides, I would probably be the very first to die. I do not know how to fight. Not physically at least."

A sligh frown settled itself on her forehead. "I haven't killed anyone yet and I do not plan on doing so any time soon. She leaned forward once again, waving her wand and wanishing the dreadful magazine. "I've been looking after myself for the first three years in Durmstrang. I was alright at that time. Now I have to get used to people constantly looking over my shoulder, breathing down my neck, using me for their own gain. It takes some time to come to terms with that."

Nolan watched the girl talk with a calculating look on his face, trying to determine just how long it would take for her to reach the point he was trying to make. "Exactly," he said once she had finished, "It wouldn't take long for you to get killed, now would it. Sure, you may not be on the front lines, but you have to get out there and do something useful sometime. None of us have the luxury of sitting by while others do the dirty work. It's just not how we do business."

"That's the other thing," He swirled his drink, watching the liquid as the lights reflected off of it, "You may not want to kill, but someday you'll find yourself at the wrong end of a wand, and it will be your only option whether you like it or not. I can assure you, that day is likely to be soon."

Nolan allowed himself a small smile, "Paranoia is fearing for your life every moment of every day. It is being prepared to kill the people you love most, because they are always at risk of betraying you. It is the ability to live only out of your sheer will to survive. Whatever you are, you're not paranoid," He held up his glass in a mock toast, still grinning devilishly, "And I envy you for that." Then the man took a sip of the drink, his eyes not straying from Ksenia for a moment.

"Oh, I don't mind getting out there. But I prefer to deal with information rather then daggers and swords. I didn't spend all the time studying to end up with a position that requires me to polish the swords of others. But I need to look at my personal priorities as well," Ksenia said. She had a bloodline to protect and she reminded herself of that every day. Sometime it was simple to forget about the fact that she was the only witch carrying the magical power that was unique to her family when surrounded by members of the Mafia. There were so many other things occupying her thoughts.

She kept her eyes trained on his as he spoke, taking everything in. It was valuable advise and it wasn't every day that someone offered it to her here. Most of the time she had to search for the facts herself. "I will b ready when that time comes."

The Slushatel smiled slightly in return. "Do my words sound like childish complaints? I suppose they would in such a place," she said, glancing out of the window for a few moments as she thought. Her voice turned more serious. "I've been fearing for my life since I was eleven years old. Now though, here, the world is different."

"That's quite wise of you. If you do end up living long enough, I think you have a very good chance of becoming very powerful in this organization. And I don't say things like that often." Nolan's cold eyes stayed connected to the girls own, entirely unmoving, "But you'll need more then wisdom if you expect to do so, which is why I recommend you find yourself a mentor."

"Most people, when they enter this business, have knowledgeable family members to guide them through it. You are intelligent, Ksenia, and you know your way around, but that on its own, I regret to say, isn't enough. I always think it such a shame when potential like yours is wasted."

The man nodded, "Yes. I am confident that you will be. But it will be very difficult. First kills always are." There are exceptions, of course, he had to force down a smile at the thought of his own depravity, as the thought was referring to himself.

"Yes, it's funny isn't it?" He looked around the room, "This house. This whole group of people. You are always thrust between safety and danger. Life in the mafia becomes something of a dance. It is heartbreakingly beautiful, and tragically disturbing. All at once." He smiled at her, "Very few people appreciate that."

"Yes, a mentor would be very good thing," Ksenia said, her voice almost musing. "but are there any people here who would want to have an apprentice?" she asked. "One like myself, who had no previous training of any sort in combat."

"I have no family. Except for my brother, but he is a necromencer. It would be much easier for him to establish himself in such an organisation if he wanted to. But I wouldn't think he is set on helping me in that regard, he is more concerned about finding me a husband which is not necessarily a bad thing for my circumstances." She smiled slightly at his words.

"Well, I already organised one kill. Its just taking the next step I suppose," she said frowning slightly. She had never given much thought to actual killing. She knew she would do it if she ended up in the wrong situation.

"It is a very beautiful dance," she couldn't help but smirk at him as she thought of his words. "The world beyond these walls becomes simply too boring after some life experiences."

"There are many people who would seek to mentor you so that they may manipulate you. Granted, you can still learn much from them, and side-stepping manipulation is easy once you're able to see it happening." Nolan smiled at the girl, "I am not the only one who sees your potential, Ms. Sokol."

"Yes, you're brother might not be much help to you as a mentor. But you can still learn from him, too. Without him teaching you directly." He sipped the last of his drink, and the glass in his hand poofed out of existence, "It's amazing the things you can discover if you remain objective and observant."

Nolan smiled again, this time rather wistfully, "Yes. Once you see it, it's nearly impossible to let go."