Thomas Prest: A Simple Magician

Natasha felt weird as she watched Tom having a stare-off with an obviously scared yet defiant ten-year-old boy who stood between them and the bed on which Misla Bael was eternally sleeping.

Her lips slightly twitched upward. The kid was quite cute, trying to protect his mother like that.

Nevertheless, Natasha had no idea why he showed them hostility. Wasn't Sarael supposed to-

"Let me guess. Sarael didn't explain anything, did he?" Tom drawled, resisting his urge to facepalm.

He knew he forgot something when making a deal with the old devil. With Sarael, one never knew. It was best to be as to the point as possible because he would purposefully 'forget' to do even something as obvious as explaining to Sairaorg the reason why he was asked to come to the hospital.

"What?" Sairaorg was taken aback.

"Of course, he didn't." Tom grumbled and sighed, now knowing the reason why Sarael opened the door for them in a manner that would not reveal his presence to the people inside.

'This must be his revenge for not wanting him inside during the process, I guess.' He inwardly chuckled at the childish pettiness of the old devil.

Well, Tom was still glad about this. Many other devils would enact revenge in a much more harmful manner so Tom couldn't even get mad at Sarael for something mild like this.

Looking at the boy in front of him, Tom wryly smiled, "Look, I am here to check if I can cure your mother, kid. So unless you want her to continue her everlasting afternoon nap, step aside so I can do my job."

Tom felt a bit awkward when these words left his mouth. He had the feeling he sounded arrogant but... honestly, he had no idea how to talk to a kid. As talented and handsome as Tom considered himself to be, he still had his flaws.

The scrawny kid comically widened his eyes, "You can cure mom!?" He excitedly exclaimed, not even a shred of suspicion in his tone.

Tom wanted to chuckle. The future strongest devil of his generation or not, Sairaorg was still just a naive kid.

It was also obvious he wanted nothing more than his mother to wake up and that made Tom furrow his eyebrows in a contemplative manner, giving Sairaorg a slow once over. The personality of the boy was better than Tom expected. If it is like this, his plan definitely could succeed.

The corner of his lips rose into a slightly villainous smirk as he felt deep satisfaction filling him. So far, this was going better than expected.

Putting his hand in front of his mouth and pretending to cough to cover his intentions, Tom said with sparkling eyes as if he just found a treasure, "I said I can try. No promises, though. Will you allow me to try now? Pretty please."

Sairaorg only then realized he would have to let these strangers approach his mother and a reluctant frown appeared on his face. He looked at Misla, then back at Tom, his eyes briefly wandering towards Natasha before he slightly blushed, causing Tom's eyebrow to twitch, and Sairaorg quickly redirected his gaze back to Tom.

Tom let the kid have a few seconds, enjoying how he indecisively looked between Misla and him. To be honest, there was no need to rush him or try to be forceful. It was obvious the boy would eventually realize-

'Ah.' Tom mirthfully smiled with a nod as Sairaorg stepped aside in a sign that he would let him approach his mother.

Sairaorg sat on his chair next to Misla's bed, and his eyes didn't leave Tom, observing him to prevent any foul play. Tom found it amusing. There was no way for Sairaorg to discover foul play anyway but it revealed how much he cared about his mother.

Tom slowly touched Misla's hand, pretending to take her pulse as he activated his Sacred Gear...

While Tom was doing his thing, Natasha approached Sairaorg and patted his head, eliciting another small blush for him. "Don't worry. If anyone can help your mother, it will be Tom." She tried to reassure him.

After all, Tom had really strong ulterior motives to give it his best.

"I hope so, Miss Gremory." Sairaorg earnestly nodded and Natasha smiled, wrapping her arm around his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"I am not a Gremory." Natasha said, making Sairaorg surprised and for a moment, getting his attention away from his mother, easing his worries.

"You are not?" He asked in bewilderment as he looked at her. "But your beautiful hair..."

Natasha just gently shook her head in the negative, a bit flattered and amused. "Thank you for the compliment." She ruffled his hair, making him scowl. That only made Natasha smirk at him and he pouted, looking away from her.

'Kids these days...' She thought in exasperation.

They waited in companionable silence for a few more moments before Tom finally moved, no longer looking like he was in trance, and staggered a bit while distractedly shaking his head.

Natasha was undoubtedly anxious. It took a long time. Tom's Sacred Gear was usually instant yet, he spent almost twenty seconds inspecting Misla. That can't be good for his body.

Letting go of Sairaorg, Natasha quickly walked toward Tom who was obviously still a bit out of it, and grabbed his shoulders, slowly letting him sit on the edge of Misla's bed.

"Are you okay?" She leaned down, looking Tom straight into his eyes while her brows were scrunched in worry.

Tom didn't answer instantly. He closed his eyes, his lips stretching into a lazy smile as he took a deep breath. Natasha patiently waited but even she couldn't predict that when Tom opened his eyes, he would pull her into a deep kiss.

Natasha's hand took a hold of the sides of Tom's head and for a brief moment, they made out with each other.

But Natasha abruptly pulled away when from the corner of her eyes she noticed Sairaorg gaping at them, making her feel embarrassed.

"There is a kid." She quietly whispered to Tom who still held her close, kissing her cheek.

"Mhm. He is a devil. It's not as if I am going to undress and ravish you here." Tom playfully rolled his eyes, "All I want is a kiss."

"You..." Natasha slapped his chest and mock-scowled, "You are definitely alright."

Her lips, however, couldn't stop curling into a small amused smile so her feigned exasperated expression was not perfect.

Letting out a small laugh as he unhanded Natasha, Tom turned back to the flabbergasted and embarrassed Sairaorg, giving him a friendly smile, "I have good and bad news."

Not unloading it on the kid straight away seemed like a good choice since Sairaorg didn't seem to pay much attention right now.

"What?" He dumbly asked before blinking, realizing what Tom was doing and his eyes shined with hope.

Seeing that the kid was listening, Tom continued, "The good news is that yes, I can cure her. The bad news, at least for you, is that I won't do it for free. So, up for a deal, little devil?" He playfully asked.

Unlike what Tom expected, Sairaorg didn't boisterously agree nor start to be suspicious. Instead, he grew sad and started to shuffle his legs while sullenly looking at the floor, "But... I am really weak. I have nothing to pay you with." He mumbled.

Tom raised his eyebrow at him, the smile not leaving his face.

Of course, he knew that. Sairaorg was 'kicked' out of the Bael Family a year ago according to the information Sarael gave Tom. That's why he was even attempting this.

'It's now or never.' Tom hyped himself up and his lips stretched into a shrewd smile.

"What about your Power of Destruction?" He proposed, causing Sairaorg to stiffen.

He was definitely naive but he was not stupid! Sairaorg knew that what the man in front of him proposed was something unthinkable. If the Bael clan knew about it...

But it didn't matter anyway.

"I can't use it." Sairaorg sullenly said.

If he could exchange it for his mother, he would do so in a heartbeat but he simply did not have the Power of Destruction!

"Mhm. That just means you won't miss it, no?" Tom said and winked at the kid.

Sairaorg looked at Tom in astonishment, realizing that the man in front of him was just trying to be kind to him. Why else would he offer to heal his mother in exchange for something he didn't possess?

Sairaorg couldn't help but tear up as he hurriedly nodded in acceptance.

He inwardly swore he would remember this debt!