Story: Chimera: Class of 666
Part: One "Waking Up"
Chapter: Two "Boots"
Authored by:
Hannah Nyland (The Irreverent Revenant)
All Rights Reserved.
Chimera: Class of 666
By Hannah Nyland and Jerad Sayler
“We
should be able to talk here a while in secret and comfort. Would you like to go
for an actual walk while we discuss what is going on with you? Or we could
relocate to a safe place? Don't worry, the fam won't even know we are gone. I
thought you might want to know what we are and what your options are." He
turns to stark walking out of the circle of light, heading down the hill to the
first intersection.
I
consider for a second. “A walk, please. It’s what I came out here for.” The
voice that says that sounds far calmer than it has any right to be. I’m
simultaneously proud and disturbed by this. I watch more closely as Sky cast
the spell this time; trying to figure out exactly how he did it, and coming up
with nothing. But I could learn, apparently. My curiosity has already surpassed
my reservations, for better or worse.
He
pulls his hood up from my coat and we start walking side by side. He doesn’t
talk for a long while. Then his eyes drift skyward and he begins to speak,
taking in the vast open sky and speckled stars.
“There
are a lot of stories, myths, theories… about what we are and where we come
from. What I can tell you is that since
the beginning of recorded history there have been those who show preternatural
abilities. There are a fair number of
other special people that have access to supernatural abilities and occult
powers. Were we make the distinction
between some psychic and a mage is where our power comes from. Mages are raw existential will-workers. We call down the power and truths from higher
planes of existence to alter laws of physical reality. Among occult scholars, we call what we do
High Magic… as opposed to more gross abilities which are sometimes referred to
as magic with a little ‘m.’” I listen to
my cousin’s words and realize he is more comfortable in this academic tone, it
helps me too.
We meander
through 11th Street and up a shallow hill. Christmas decorations blink and
shimmer on the houses all around us. I am processing what he is saying and with
everything else I’ve dealt with tonight I am barely able to suspend disbelief
long enough to follow what he is saying.
About all I can offer when he pauses is a curt nod.
“My
order cannot provide with any reliability how and why a person becomes lucid
and gains the ability to work their will against reality and its masters. What we can say with confidence is the common
themes of such an awakening. The soul of the person begins to resonate with the
Supernal Realms and creates a permanent link or channel which the mage can then
use sympathetically to call down the Magic.”
For all the precision in his explanation most of this goes right over my
head. Resonate… what does that even
mean. I focus on not having a panic
attack and find myself remarkably calm, all things considered. Jack’s introspective walk is a safe zone and
I don’t want to return to the noise.
We
reach the top of the slope and near another intersection. “So… I guess that is
why I think you awakened to Magic. I can sense your power and I saw the
structure of your spells. I know you
have Magic. When this all started do you
remember seeing a tower or a beacon or writing your full name on something
before you started noticing these new sights?” He turns to look at me
expectantly.
“There
was a tower. Made of some sort of metal, I think. It looked different at first
though; I couldn’t see what it really was. Other things kept getting in the
way. Illusions. Dreams. . .” I abruptly fall silent, a distant look in my eyes.
As though I have betrayed too much.
Black
boots drag heavily through the snow, as though I’m barely lifting my feet as I
trudge beside him. My pace has been slowing for the last few minutes, but I
hadn’t noticed it until now. I’m too far away; half mesmerized by the glow of
Christmas lights from the buildings nearby, reeling from all of the new
information spinning through my head. It’s a lot to take in. My hands are
tucked into my pockets, but from force of habit rather than cold. On second
thought, the walk isn’t helping nearly as much as I expected it to.
I
realize that I haven’t said anything for far longer than is polite. I continue
quietly, “I did end up signing my name. I was sitting at a table inside the
tower, and I wrote it down on a piece of paper. Which was also my math final.”
My lips quirk up in a faint smile. “I passed, by the way.”
I
stop abruptly, turn to face Jack. Something has just occurred to me. “Look, all
of this . . . do you think you think you could help me explain to my parents?
They’re worried about me.” A hideous understatement. “There must be something
that would help. . .” I trail off.
“Something
that would help?” He asks, incredulity leaking into his voice. His face seems suddenly very open and sad, a hopeless
smile sets grimly into his features.
“I
forgot to mention the thing about sleepers, that is what we call people unaware
of the Supernal. Your parents, as open and awesome as John and Marion are, they
cannot believe you. They literally are
incapable to believing. They
subconsciously reject High Magic because the Sleeping Curse remains upon them
and suppresses any stimuli from that source. Casting magic in front of sleepers
is quickly disbelieved and that, combined with the spiritual entropy of the
phemoral world, frays Magic apart. Through observation alone they counter your
will with their sleeping will and reality asserts itself. It’s not that reality is completely
subjective and based on belief, it might be, it’s that the status quo is being
unwittingly reinforced…”
Jack
pinches the bridge of my nose with a black leather gloved hand as if he were
trying to squeeze the answers out of his brain. “Kiddo, I wish we could tell
your parents or even my parents. I
wish I could tell you that this is going to be like Harry Potter or the
X-Men. That you are going to a school
for the gifted with your parent’s blessing. But this is the real world (kinda) and
it only gets more complicated from there.
When you tell people, even your closest, most trusted friend about
Magic, the nature of reality, and you’re mystical secrets you open them up to
it. There are bad mages and horrible creatures that would love to eat you.
There are more things out there then I could even list for you. You have magic
and can have powerful allies but your friend, as someone who is still sleeping
has virtually no defense against those supernatural powers. Your parents become
something that someone or something could leverage against you. Plus the more
people you tell the secret to the more there exists greater potential for these
secrets to spread.”
He
sighs loudly, “I know it sounds like a cop-out… but the best way to protect
them is to leave them out of it. If you want help and need a support group you
have family.” I realize he is talking
about himself.
“I
see,” I manage to get out, keeping my face composed. Barely. But inside… I’m a
mess. Everything that I’ve been repressing for the last few weeks suddenly
comes rushing up. Before I realize that it’s happening, my legs buckle and I find
myself sitting down hard on the cold curb.
When I collapse Jack lunges forward to make sure I don’t hit my head on
the ground. He squats next to me and
places a gentle hand on my back.
It
was bad enough when I was just scaring my family half to death. Now I’m also
potentially putting them in danger just by being around me. And they’ll never
know the reason for any of it. Guilt does not adequately describe what I’m
feeling right now. My eyes are wet. Damn it. Just what I need right now.
I
make a conscious effort to look up and ask, “So. What do I need do to protect
myself against all these things you mentioned?” My casual tone sounds
incredibly forced, even to me.
His
face is stern and carries worry but doesn’t convey much sympathy. He sighs, taking in a deep breath. He
hesitates and then slowly reaches to the back of his neck with both hands and takes
off a black leather corded necklace. On the cord is a flat, shovel shaped piece
of tarnished metal. As he removes it I feel a startling burst of energy raced
across my skin like a wave. The ground waivers around me. Power radiates from
him and even without The Sights I can feel it.
Jack
circles the necklace around my neck and clasps it at the back. Written on the amulet
are ten spherical shapes and lines connecting them. Words I don’t recognize in English
and symbols in some kind of Hebrew alongside Astrological symbols.
“I
want you to keep this for now, just for a little while until I can make another
charm with the right stuff to mask you from conventional preternatural detections.
I made this so that if given freely by my hand it would share its protection with
the wearer. It will shield you from detection and as long as you don’t use any
magic in front of any supernatural entities you should blend in as a sleeper.
It won’t work if you give it to someone else to use. So I suggest you leave it on as much as
possible, even when you sleep.”
As
soon as the necklace encircles my neck I feel immense strength fill your limbs
and understanding burst through my neurons.
I was so lucid, so calm, so confident.
Was this Magic? Thoughts and
ideas came so freely and filed away, I wasn’t tired anymore, I felt like I was
floating on the air. Every move, twitch,
and thought was effortless. I can feel
the heat of its power against the line of my neck and where the amulet touches
my skin, so intense that it practically burns itself into my throat. For a
split second, everything is sped up – thought, sound, motion, perception-
everything. It’s dizzying. I reflexively start to raise my hand to tear it off,
but the sensation is gone as quickly as it appeared.
“What
is it doing to me?” I ask quickly.
Finally
he smirks, “just a few enhancements. It
augments the physical and mental capacity of the wearer as well.”
It
all clicks into place, and I am left feeling different than before, as though
energy is quietly pulsing through my entire body, heat without tangibility. At
this point I do feel slightly better, although the entire situation is still deeply
disorienting. Jack’s explanation does make logical sense to me (well, as much
sense as anything else right now), but it doesn’t do much to assuage my
feelings of guilt. Deciding that it would probably be better not to try to
stand up right now, I remain seated on the curb.
No comments:
Post a Comment