It was later in the night when Saraf made it home, the Parisi household wasn’t necessarily massive – in the magical age space was conserved as much as possible, modern house focused more on effective space than the grandiose mansions of old. The Parisi family was, for lack of a better word, new money. Over the course of a few generations, they’d managed to expand their magical reserves within themselves to be viewed as part of the upper echelon of society, and it was only since his grandmother’s contribution to Enhancer science that they had truly made their mark on history… becoming affluent through business and other ventures that he didn’t honestly have much interest in.
He stood in front his door and it faded away – like pixels, a stylistic choice for the vanishing entrance spell he’d mastered in middle school. Sure, it wasn’t as efficient but there was nothing wrong with aesthetic was there? His room was relatively plain, he didn’t spend much time there, but it was decorated in a minimalist style he remembered his mom admiring in an old catalog when they were in a waiting room sometime during his childhood.
His mother was a true rarity in the world –from a rural town in Rajasthan and from no family of any particular note, his mother was a nearly unheard of level of natural talent. Hema Parisi had been a true enigma, he had no idea how she had come to be part of the family or even how she and his father had met. Saraf fell back onto the bed and picked up a nearby vessel – it was shaped like a picture frame – he closed his eyes and channeled what he remembered of his mother: her unruly hair, the flecks of gold in her irises, and the laugh lines around her eyes that added a spark of something every time she smiled.
He opened his eyes to look at the portrait he’d recreated on the vessel. “You’d be furious if you found out about my grades…”
“I’m not furious, to tell you the truth I’m not even really surprised at this point. It’s like you’re trying to make it impossible for me to make you the next CEO.”
His father’s voice was quiet and soft, the elder Parisi always had a way of talking – he didn’t speak loudly, ever. Yet, his voice had a commanding quality to it that made you listen. If it was noisy and he spoke the room would quiet. Saraf didn’t know how he did it, and he didn’t much want to either.
Saraf set the frame down and sat up. “Right, if it’s any consolation, Professor Nogoyev decided to finally connect me with a tutor… he says they’re his best academic student.”
Saraf didn’t see the point in mentioning that his tutor would be a woman and a Krietz; he was in hot enough water as it was. He didn’t need it to start boiling on him.
His father didn’t speak for a long moment, “Saraf, you’re going to be graduating high school in six months and you’re still looking. Don’t you think it’s time to cut your losses and agree to my terms?”
Saraf tried not to scowl, “I’m six months away, I still have most of my senior year left. Anyway, what are the chances my soul mate will be in some godforsaken backwater town in the middle of Asia?”
“Just as likely as they’ll be living here, in this massive city of millions of citizens.” his father replied dryly.
“You’re a Parisi, you have one soul mate. There are billions of people on this planet which makes this gamble of yours foolish, but you’re right… you have six months left, there’s always a chance you might find them.”
“I will find them.” Saraf insisted.
His father didn’t reply to that, instead, he began detailing some event that the two of them would be attending, some sort of fundraiser for a new project one of their subsidiaries was working on, Saraf knew it was just a farce and his father wanted to introduce him to another candidate.
‘Arranged marriage, in this day and age.’ Saraf thought bitterly as he let his father keep talking, it was like they were living in the dark ages when witch-hunts were still a thing.
The absurdity of his father’s announcement the year prior that Saraf would have to marry a girl of the senior Parisi’s choosing and take over the company as the future CEO had been what had sparked this absurd bet. Saraf pitched his future on the luck of finding his soulmate on his own accord. If he succeeded, his father would relent his set plan for Saraf’s career path… and he would be free.
His father finished his spiel and give Saraf a lingering look. “I’m glad you found yourself a tutor, Saraf. It’s a step in the right direction, thank you.”
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