The Calcification

The end came sooner than a year. It came three days later.

Maren woke up to a sound that shook the valley. A low, mechanical hum that vibrated in her teeth.

She ran to the window. The Manor was sealed. Steel shutters had slammed down over the glass. A red light pulsed above the door.

She ran up the hill. She pounded on the steel door.

"Julian!"

A panel lit up. A speaker crackled. Julian’s voice came through, distorted and weak.

"Go home, Maren."

"Open the door!" Maren screamed. "Let me in!"

"It’s happening," Julian said. "It’s fast this time. It’s in my lungs. If you're near me when the final transmutation happens... the magical backlash will crystallize you too. I can't let that happen."

"I don't care!"

"I do," Julian said. He sounded like he was smiling. "I transferred the accounts. The liquid assets. It’s all in your name, Maren. Buy a new roof. Buy the whole valley. Be safe."

"I don't want your money!" Maren sobbed, slamming her fists against the metal. "I want you!"

"Goodbye, neighbor."

The speaker clicked off.

Maren stood there, the silence of the morning settling around her. She looked at the fortress. He had locked himself in the Vault. He was going to die alone in the dark, turning into a trophy.

She looked at her hands. They were stained with dirt. They were small hands. They couldn't move mountains. They couldn't raise the dead.

But she knew how to find the cracks in things.

"Small magic," she whispered.

She didn't try to blast the door down. She didn't try to lift the steel shutters.

She knelt by the frame of the door. She found a tiny gap where the steel met the concrete. A hairline fracture.

She placed her fingertips against it.

"Widen," she commanded.

It was a spell for stuck jar lids. For tight shoes.

The concrete groaned. The crack expanded a millimeter.

"Widen," Maren gritted out, pouring her will into the stone.

She didn't stop. She pushed. She pushed until her nose bled. She pushed until the "small" magic compounded, vibrating the structure of the doorframe.

* CRACK.*

The concrete shattered. The heavy steel door, losing its anchor, groaned and tilted. Maren scrambled through the gap, tearing her dress, scraping her skin.

She was in.