My night was nothing short of stressful. It consisted of two separate dreams, and the second one was substantially worse. The first was pretty standard, it was one of those dreams where I felt as though I were somebody else. There was a lot of screaming and glass flying, and four tremendous giants stood over me.
The second, however, just proved that there was no way for me to break out of the relentless cycle that I called life. I saw multiple people in the dream, yet they all said nearly the exact same thing.
First I saw Ethan, who glared at me, pure hatred filling his eyes as he murmured, ‘You…you monster…why…why didn’t you save me?’
Second, came Grandad, who stared down at me, disgust masking his face as he sneered, ‘Never have I looked at someone and been so disappointed…I never thought…my own grandson…would turn out like you…You are revolting.’
Then I saw Amy, who pointed and laughed at me. ‘What a fool! Thinking he can beat me! You barely even know what you are! I’ll crush you beneath my feet!’
Then I saw them. The people that I knew I would see eventually. If anything, I was surprised that it had taken this long. After entering the City, I had expected to see them the next day. Mom and Dad. Mom seemingly had tears in her eyes, and Dad grimaced at the sight of me.
‘Son,’ Dad murmured, sounding purely appalled, ‘you…you know you can do better…I’m…I’m ashamed to call myself your Dad…’
Mom was not so kind.
‘All of the effort I went through to protect you, and for what?’ she yelled as ghostly tears poured down her face.
‘M-Mom!’ I cried out. ‘I’m sor-’
‘I don’t want to hear it! I never should have birthed you! Never! We all knew what would happen! And to think that Dad has to put up with you now! Poor, poor him! You’re weak, you’re small, you’re pathetic!’ she spat. ‘I never, ever, ever wanted to call you my son! Never!’
I was woken only by the alarming chill of tears on my face. I stared blankly at my bedroom ceiling, thinking. What had I just seen?
I glanced over at the clock. It was only six o’clock. I still had two and a half hours to kill before school. Today felt off. The twentieth of November. It felt strange. Like I was both there and not there. Experiencing the day whilst being dead. Like I was missing a part of me that I desperately needed.
I knew what I needed, and I cursed myself for giving in to the urge. I bolted out of my room and ran up the stairs. I was going to the roof. I had to fly. I had to fly. I had to.
Upon reaching the roof, however, all of my will to fly left me. I felt like I had been hit by a train. Somebody was already on the roof. The sun was nowhere near rising, so the sky was still an ominous jet black, yet here they were. Stars glistened faintly in the sky, and the figure gazed up at them longingly.
I was certain I heard them say something along the lines of, ‘I’ll be with you soon, darling, very soon.’
It was Grandad. He brought his hand up to his face, and even from behind, I could tell that he was wiping a tear from his eye. I even heard him sniff. A horrible sound left his throat, like the sound of a dying sob.
‘I should have been there, Albert,’ he said.
My eyes widened abruptly as Grandad turned. His face was cloaked in the darkness of the night, which most likely helped him as it hid his tears. He opened his arms, as though expecting me to run forward and hug him. He was partially right. I slowly crept towards him and entwined my arms around his lower back.
‘I was a fool, I should’ve been there,’ he murmured as he slowly stroked my hair. ‘All of this…just because I couldn’t get there fast enough. No, just because I wouldn’t get there fast enough.’
‘G-Grandad?’ I murmured. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine, Codger, I’m just remembering the past, that’s all. Just remembering…all the things I did wrong.’
A wet drop smacked the top of my head, and I heard Grandad sniff once more.
‘Codger?’ I said, my voice slightly muffled by Grandad’s shirt.
He chuckled softly. ‘Ah, I suppose I should explain.’
He gently pried himself away from me and crouched down so that the two of us were staring each other in the eye.
‘When you and each of your cousins were born, I gave you all a nickname, you see,’ he explained, trying, and failing, to discreetly wipe a tear from his eye. ‘And you were Codger. That’s what everyone used to call my dad, that is. And, my Gods, what a perfect name it was for you.’
Suddenly I felt hot tears creep into my eyes again. I had never even considered my aunts, uncles, or cousins. Obviously, I knew that my parents had been killed, and my grandparents being murdered was pretty much obvious, as I hadn’t been introduced to a grandmother upon arrival, but my other relatives? No chance that Amy had gone that far, right? Right?
‘Cousins?’ I murmured, trying not to sound upset.
Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I was weak. Maybe I was pathetic. Three years ago nothing could make me cry. Yet now, it wasn’t farfetched to say that I cried every other day.
‘Yes, yes, you had cousins.’
It was the ‘had’ that struck a chord in me. A single tear fell down my face, but Grandad caught it before it fell off of my chin.
‘Had,’ he repeated. ‘Kane was the eldest, he was nearly three years older than you. He was Bamm Bamm. After that Flintstones guy. Leah came next, in 2006. She was Strawberry. They were both little angels. Then you came along. My Codger. Then just nine months after you came Harvey, Kane’s brother, who was my Samson. He and you were really alike, you know. But then Amy happened.’
Another tear. This time, however, Grandad allowed it to fall from my chin. He was crying, too.
‘I never even thought about- about my cousins,’ I murmured, my voice breaking.
‘I suppose that’s best,’ he said, giving me a sad smile. ‘They’re all- all gone now.’
My sadness quickly turned to rage. Amy had gone out of her way to kill innocent children. Of course, she had tried to kill me, but she had failed, and the fact that she had succeeded in killing all of my cousins was sickening.
‘You know,’ Grandad said, standing up and turning again so that his back was facing me once more, ‘today’s your mom’s birthday.’
I felt like I’d been punched. I thought back to the photo that I’d seen on the wall the day that I had met Amy. That had only been eight days ago. The wind picked up, and my hair flew backwards off of my face as I stared out into the darkness. Grandad seemed unbothered, but he brought his hand back up to his face to wipe another tear away. Another sniff.
A wave of emotion swept through me. I’m unsure as to how to even begin describing it. It felt crushing. Like I suddenly had the entire weight of the world on my shoulders. I felt both ready to charge at Amy blindly and give up simultaneously. I felt nothing. I felt hollow. Void of all other emotions.
‘She would have been thirty-seven today, you know,’ he continued, his voice breaking. ‘My Catherine.’
My mom. Tears rolled down my face uncontrollably, and I clenched my fists tightly, feeling a trickle of blood pouring from my palms.
I took a few steps forward, placing my hand on top of Grandad’s. ‘We’ll do this for them, yeah?’
His eyes widened as he stared down at me blankly. A fresh wave of tears came from his eyes. My knife, which I always kept in my pocket, suddenly grew cold. Contrastingly to my dream, Grandad’s eyes were filled with pride when he looked at me like he was glad that I was his grandson.
‘Sickening, this is,’ came a shrill voice from behind the two of us.
I slowly turned, recognising the voice. Two figures stood there. One was Robert Hansen, the man that had blown up my school just five days ago. He grinned at me menacingly, seemingly healed from our last encounter.
The second figure was the woman herself. I hadn’t expected her to show her sorry face around me for quite a while; it was a bold move. Amy Wright smirked down at me, her black eyes somehow glistening in the night. Her pale skin contrasted the darkness around us horrifyingly.
The two of them still wore the same attire they apparently always did: all black. Black cloaks, black shirts, black trousers, black shoes, black everything. They looked like a menacing duo when stood next to each other, probably because they were.
I didn’t even think. I dove forward, grabbing Amy. The two of us sailed over the side of The Tower and began to fall towards the city below.
‘Amy!’ I heard Robert yell, shortly before he became locked in fierce combat with Grandad.
I hastily unfolded my wings, allowing Amy and I to soar far above the ground. I pulled my knife out of my pocket and held it to her neck. With my other hand, I harshly held onto her back, so in a sense, I was carrying her. The two of us flew, perfectly parallel to one another, high above the city, which was blissfully unaware of what was going on.
A mask of fear shrouded Amy’s stupid face. I saw her reach inside her cloak, presumably for her wand, so I dropped her for a moment. I dived down after her of course and caught her once more.
Then, however, the two of us became cloaked in a sort of swirling black cloud, not unlike the one that Robert had arrived in when he hit Maltor with his spell. I quickly realised that this thin black jet was their mode of flight. Clearly, some people didn’t appreciate the traditional ways.
She grappled me with her hands, trying to get me to move, yet I would not budge. The two of us desperately fought for control over this mess that could barely be called a flight. Our eyes were locked together, and I had more fury in my body than I did blood. Her eyes told the same.
I pushed the knife down, watching crimson blood slowly fall over the blade. Her eyes became panicked, and a wave of pride swept through me. I, a mere child, was bringing fear into the great Amy Wright’s face.
‘Why, Amy?’ I bellowed over the wind as the two of us irregularly darted around the sky.
We constantly changed direction as a result of both of us trying to take control. One moment we’d be flying north, then the next we would sharply dive downwards, and then we’d dart to the west. I still held on.
‘Why what, you little rat?’ she screamed, and I felt my grip on her loosen.
‘You know exactly what!’ I yelled, feeling raw strength flow through me. I felt ready to either take on Titan or become him. ‘Don’t tell me that a stupid little rat knows more than the great, the powerful, Amy Wright?’
She grunted, wrenching herself from my grasp. The cloud of black soared away from me, and I immediately darted after it. She would answer my question, whether she liked it or not. I would pull the answer out of her if it killed me.
As much as I tried, I couldn’t catch up to her. Even when I ramped up my speed to one hundred miles per hour she still soared at least a dozen metres in front of me. She wasn’t even making a beeline for the roof of The Tower, she was just flying ahead of me and changing direction every so often; she was toying with me.
Do it.
I locked my eyes on Amy, waiting for her to change direction. I pulled my right arm back as far as I could, just waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then it came. She darted to my right, and I let my arm go. My knife hurled through the night air like a javelin, before disappearing in the swirling cloud.
Instantly, I knew I had done what I wanted. The cloud disappeared as quickly as it had formed, and Amy’s body dropped heavily. I dived down after her but didn’t quite make it. She hit the road below with a chilling thud.
Cars skidded to a halt around her, and people began to circle her crumpled excuse for a body, curious as to what had happened. I rocketed down towards her, yanking my knife from her left shoulder before quickly flying back into the air for a few moments before effortlessly landing at her feet.
Amy spat blood onto the concrete next to her and the moment I saw her try and get up I planted a foot firmly onto her leg. Glaring at me, she began to stammer.
‘This world,’ she coughed up another handful of blood, ‘is imperfect. W-We need to remove people like them. The weak- the weak should fear the strong.’
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
‘What?’ I said, staring down at her in complete disgust.
‘That’s what you wanted to know, right?’ she said, staring back at me in a complete rage.
‘What are you talking about? I wanted to-’
I heard panting from behind me. Whirling around whilst keeping my leg pressed down on Amy’s I saw Robert. He was missing his left hand and dry blood was covering half of his face.
‘W-What?’ I stammered, feeling like a helpless animal. ‘Where’s Gr-’
Robert shakily raised his wand at me. A jet of blue soared through the air from somewhere to my left, hitting Robert on the side of the jaw. He turned, fury coating his face. A middle-aged man with blond hair and brown eyes was standing there. He had evidently gotten out of his car to see what was happening. Looking through the windshield of the car closest to him, I saw a woman about his age sitting in the passenger seat, and two young girls sitting in the back.
‘Come on, he’s just a kid,’ the man said, staring at Robert. Unlike Robert, however, this man’s arm was completely steady. ‘Leave him-’
He dropped to the ground as though nothing had happened. I didn’t even see the spell. I saw the woman in the car, presumably his wife, clasp her hand to her mouth. That man had put himself in danger for the chance that he’d save me. His last words had been words of pleading, begging Robert to leave me alone.
Robert turned back to me as Amy cackled. He spat on the ground and I grimaced. I had done many brutal things in my life, but spitting on the ground was a step too far for me.
‘No Mr Fowler to save you now, is there?’ he growled. ‘Nor is that pathetic mole of a grandad here to help. You’re soon gonna realise, kid, that you’re not as powerful as people think you are.’
A jet of red light erupted from his wand, but I was just a second faster. I brought my knife up, shielding my face. The spell bounced straight off of my knife, soaring upwards until it disappeared into the night.
Robert kept his eyes on me. ‘Huh. I’d like to see you close that-’
My ears rattled. A deafening bang echoed throughout the street, and numerous people held their hands to their ears. Blood spurted through the air, staining my pyjamas crimson. An arm sailed towards me, landing at my feet with another dull thud.
Robert stared down. His eyes barely even widened at the sight of nothing in place of his left arm. In unison, Robert and I peered to see what was behind him. Or, to be more accurate, who.
Panting and painted with blood, Grandad stood, his wand determinedly pointing at Robert’s chest. His glasses were cracked and askew, but he was here, and ready to fight.
‘You dare,’ he snarled, ‘you dare fire a spell at my grandson, and I’ll show you what true magic is.’
‘Ah, you old brat,’ Robert spat, ‘that was my favourite arm.’
Suddenly, my foot dropped to the ground. Spinning around, I saw Amy, now upright, glaring at me, her wand poised directly at my head. I stared at her blankly, confused.
‘Come on!’ I yelled. ‘You couldn’t kill me before! What makes you think you can kill me now, you hag?’
It happened within an instant. So much in such a short period.
I ducked, whirling to the side to dodge the spell that Amy had effortlessly fired at me. It hit my left ear, completely destroying it. Right as blood poured down the side of my face, Robert’s body tumbled through the air, smashing into Amy. The two of them hit the ground and I felt Grandad’s powerful arms wrap around me and yank me out of the way.
Then time resumed as normal.
Then, again, everything was happening so quickly. Robert jumped to his feet, and a flurry of spells fired at Grandad, who returned fire with zero hesitation. Numerous bangs echoed throughout the air as their spells hit the other’s. Robert’s eyes were disturbingly unfazed by everything. If he was in pain due to his lack of a left arm he definitely didn’t show it.
Amy, on the other hand, came straight at me. Kind of. She limped over, not raising her wand, but not looking passive, either. She was just kinda…there. Her movements seemed to be fuelled by nothing but anger, as it appeared that she didn’t have much else in her.
‘What is it then, boy?’ she barked. ‘What do you want? What do you need from me?’
‘Why, Amy?’ I said, sounding almost like I was begging. ‘Why did you have to kill them all?’
Her face lit up. ‘Ohhhh, that’s it? That’s all you wanted to know?’
Suddenly intrigued as to what she thought I wanted to know, I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.
‘You mean your cousins and aunts and uncles, correct?’ she asked, and the look on my face must have been sufficient for an answer, either that or she just didn’t want one. ‘Come on, use your brain, child! I couldn’t have them living to tell you the tale of what I had done to your parents!’
Anger rocketed through my veins. ‘My cousins were no more than three years old!’
Her smile broadened, and anger seemed to replace even blood in my body.
‘How could they have told me? Huh? How? They were children! Nothing could ever justify the killing of children! Nothing!’
‘Oh, shut up, will you?’ she shrieked, and the words in my throat seemed to die. ‘Your pathetic words won’t change a thing! Your family are dead! Every single last one of them! You’re lucky that your stupid grandad bested me in a duel, or else he’d be gone, too!’
My whole body was trembling. I felt numb all over. Sheer resentment was keeping me standing. This witch, this absolute monster standing before me was trying to justify the murder of three innocent children. And it would have been four if I hadn’t miraculously survived.
I didn’t even think. I dived straight for her. My mind went completely blank for just that moment. I am not sure exactly what happened. One moment I was standing five feet away from her, and the next moment I was on her, my hands wrapped tightly around her neck.
‘Why, you stupid cow bag?’ I roared, shaking her head furiously.
Robert’s body flew through the air and landed next to us.
‘You want to know why she didn’t kill you that night, Albert?’ Grandad said from somewhere behind me, sounding as though he was struggling to form words.
‘S-Shut your mouth, Steven!’ Amy gargled. In response, I throttled her head violently.
‘The spell she used, Albert,’ Grandad continued, deflecting a spell from Robert effortlessly, ‘is a special spell. You have to mean it for it to work.’
Amy let out an ungodly roar and the two of us became cloaked in that same spinning black cloud once more. My knuckles had turned white with the sheer pressure that I had forced into them.
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I shouted, somehow weakly, as the two of us glided down the street. ‘Did you not want to kill me or something?’
‘Your grandad is a raving lunatic!’ she screamed back, her eyes wild with panic. ‘Of course I wanted to kill you, you little rat!’
She quickly pointed her wand at my neck, slowly pressing it into my skin.
‘And this time I’ll do it!’ she yelled.
I didn’t even have time to react before another voice came from above.
‘Albert! To the right!’
I would recognise that voice from a mile away. Careful not to remove my hands from Amy’s neck, whose face had now begun to turn a faint shade of purple, I titled my body slightly to the right, just as a whistling sound pierced the air.
A sword dug into Amy’s right shoulder. Not just any old sword. She shrieked in pain as blood immediately began to ooze from her wound. An invisible force thrust me out of her cloud and I hit the road with a painful thud.
Wincing slightly, I looked up. And there he was. His powerful white wings flapped powerfully as he soared some fifteen feet above the ground, a sword glistening in each hand. He stared down at me and dropped the sword in his right hand down to me. My sword. The same white one I’d taken from The School.
‘Come on!’ Maltor yelled. ‘We’ll get her!’
He darted after her. A trail of dark red blood was following her swirling black cloud, which was now going wild around the road. She was constantly changing direction, seemingly lost, as though she had no idea where she was or where she was going.
I shakily rose to my feet, picking up my sword. What use it would be against a crazed witch was beyond me, it’s not like it could fire spells, but if I could pull it off right then I was sure that I could make it work.
I looked around, dazed. My whole body ached and every muscle felt weak. It wasn’t even seven in the morning and I was fighting. I would say ‘typical’ but that word didn’t really seem to fit. Yet.
Grandad and Robert were still furiously duelling. Even though Robert did not have a left arm, he appeared to be putting more effort into this fight than when he had fought Mr Fowler. He was roaring in anger, yet Grandad was completely silent, his eyes unblinking. His arm was practically a blur as he stared, completely full of rage, straight at Robert, who was strangely unbothered by Grandad’s look, which scared even me.
I began to run after Maltor and Amy. I was quite a fast runner, even I would admit, and I began to gain on them. Maltor let out a mighty roar of rage, clasping his sword in both hands before bringing it down on what I presumed to be Amy’s head.
Her swirling black cloud seemed to envelop Maltor’s sword, working its way up the blade before swallowing him completely. I screamed his name even though I knew that he would barely be able to hear me through the cloud.
Strange lights seemed to be emitting from inside of the cloud, but they were partially blocked by the cloud itself. I could see muffled blue and red lights, which was most likely Amy firing spells at Maltor. However, Maltor’s dead body was not flung from the swirling energy, so he must have been holding his ground.
‘Don’t stop!’ I heard Maltor scream, most likely directed at me. ‘Jump!’
I did just that. I took a great bound, outstretching my wings and soaring over towards Amy’s cloud. Instantly, it similarly swallowed me to how it had caught Maltor. Once in there with them, I saw Maltor driving the original sword that he had thrown deeper into Amy’s shoulder with his right hand. With his left hand, he was attempting to bring his other sword down onto the top of her head, but he was apparently being stopped by an invisible force, as there was a two-inch gap between the blade and Amy’s scalp.
Amy, on the other hand, was wild with rage. Her hair was flapping around furiously. Blood was heavily pouring from her shoulder. She seemed to be putting all of her energy into whatever force was keeping Maltor’s sword off of her, as she wasn’t moving her wand arm at all. But that may have been because, you know, there was a one-metre blade sticking into that arm.
‘You…’ she gargled angrily. ‘You little rats!’
I stared at her, unresponsive. I grasped my sword in both hands and pulled it behind my head, ready to swing it with every piece of energy I had.
‘Imagine getting bested by two eleven-year-olds,’ Maltor said, almost jokingly.
Then I let go. I brought my sword around so quickly, and with so much force that I felt as though my shoulders were about to pop away. It swung towards the side of Amy’s neck, ready to take her head, before being stopped by another invisible force. It felt like I had swung into a brick wall. Upon hitting it, pain soared through my body, and I tried desperately to hide it.
Maltor and I glanced at each other for a moment, before letting out two horrific roars of fury in unison.
‘They were kids!’ I bellowed, pouring every ounce of my soul into my blade.
‘You…’ Amy gargled again, as my sword got just half an inch closer to her neck. ‘You really thi-think you can best me? The great Amy Wright?’
Flames emerged from deep within my sword, swirling around the blade magnificently. The light expanded, causing Amy to furiously cover her eyes with her left hand.
‘Don’t stop!’ Maltor repeated. ‘Cut off her damn head!’
Amy howled in rage. Maltor’s sword flew upwards, far away from her head, whilst mine gained half an inch again. Amy and I locked eyes. She no longer seemed panicked, but purely full of unforgiving wrath. Her black eyes stared at me with such an emotion that I was surprised I wasn’t vapourised on the spot.
‘You rotten cow bag!’ I roared, drawing back my left hand, now balled into a fist.
I felt a strange tingly feeling coat my hand and I brought it into Amy’s face. For a witch, normal strategies seemed to work perfectly fine on her. Whilst my blade was still enveloped in magnificent orange flames, my left hand was crackling with lightning. Electricity ran up and down my left forearm wildly as I dug my fist deeper into Amy’s jaw.
Maltor was still ploughing his sword into her shoulder with one hand, whilst he desperately tried to bring down his other blade back onto her head.
‘I wanted to kill you that day, boy!’ Amy yelled, coughing blood straight onto my face, causing me to both withdraw my hand and close my left eye. ‘And I would’ve done it too, if-’
‘If you didn’t have a moral compass!’ I cut her off. ‘You didn’t want to kill me, right? Because I was just a child!’
‘Shut your damn mouth!’ Amy roared, and my sword made contact with her neck. I had gotten past the invisible barrier.
Blood began to slowly trickle down my flaming blade, and Amy howled in pain as she was surely starting to feel the burn. Maltor and I stared at each other, sheer determination in our eyes.
‘Cut off her head!’ he screamed, with more rage than I’d ever heard in years.
The two of us roared. Goosebumps coated my skin all over. Flames danced over my blade and Maltor finally managed to break free from whatever spell was holding him back. He brought his sword down with terrifying force, before stopping again three inches above her head.
Then he spoke. His voice was now as soft as silk, and a strange feeling washed over me. It felt like my brain shut off completely, and gave in to whatever command Maltor gave me.
‘Give up.’
My arms felt weak and my blade began to rattle as they shook. Even Amy’s face went blank and a strange, almost puzzled, look masked her face. Maltor seemed to realise that whatever he had done had weakened me, so he spoke again, but still in the same silky voice.
‘Cut off her head.’
A newfound strength seemed to awaken in me. I was certain I heard the familiar rumble of thunder overhead as I dug my blade deeper into Amy’s neck.
‘This one’s for Kane!’ I bellowed, punching her in the jaw, my hand coated in lightning once more. Then I punched again. ‘And this is for Leah!’ Another punch. ‘And for Harvey! You cow bag!’
‘H-Harvey?’ Amy stammered. ‘What do you mean, ‘Harvey’?’
Then something collided with my right side. A slab. It sent me flying to the left. I shot into Maltor, who lost control over what he was doing. As the two of us uncontrollably flew away from Amy, he managed to yank his sword from her shoulder, resulting in a howl of pain from Amy.
The two of us slammed into the wall of a house, but Maltor took the majority of the blow as he’s the one that hit the wall. We fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, and looking up I noticed that Amy had done the same. She must have been the one that sent the slab flying at us, but she did not have enough energy to continue her flight.
Breathe.
It was that strangely familiar voice again. But it caused me to realise that I had been holding my breath for who knows how long. I choked and spluttered, sending blood flying onto the ground, and Maltor began to do the same thing.
Whilst the two of us were busy turning our internal blood into our external blood, I noticed Amy wearily rising to her feet. I did the same, I was not about to let her get away.
‘Albert! Leave it be!’ came Ethan’s voice from somewhere to my right.
Looking around, I saw that all of my friends were there, frantically running over to me and Maltor. I was not sure how much of the last scene they had just witnessed, but I was not sure that I wanted to find out.
I also noticed that somehow we were back to where we had started. Amy had had such little control over her flight that she had brought us right back to near Robert and Grandad, who were still furiously duelling, but now Henry was on the scene to help.
Amy stared over at me, her eyes wild with fury, before disappearing in a grey cloud. I gritted my teeth. How could I let her get away from me? That filthy, lying, rotten dirtbag had gotten away from me again. Just slipped out of my grasp. Again.
Robert shortly followed. Upon realising that there was no way for him to win a fight against both Grandad and Henry, he disappeared in a similar grey cloud. Instantly, Grandad and Henry ran over to me and Maltor.
I turned, offering my hand down to help Maltor up. He gazed up at me and the two of us smiled at each other. A pure, hearty smile.
Then our hands made contact.
It was the third time that so much happened in a short period. I felt myself being sucked into another world. Once the feeling had passed, I was once again taller and staring down at the same short man. I had once again become Alfonso.
‘We can’t beat Amy,’ the short man said, and those words struck a chord in both me and Alfonso.
‘But we have the Six,’ I argued. ‘All six of ‘em. She can’t do anything against those.’
‘Alfonso,’ the man said, sounding tired, ‘she’s too powerful. Trust us when we say we can’t beat her.’
‘Someone else will,’ I said.
‘What?’ the short man suddenly sounded appalled. ‘Have you seen it?’
I nodded. ‘Albert will.’
The short man’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘W-What? What are you even saying? Albert?’
I nodded again. ‘He will. In due time, of course. He’s a powerful kid. He’ll struggle. And there’ll be times where he doesn’t think he can go on. But he’ll do it.’
Then I cut back to the real world. Maltor’s hand was locked into mine, and our hands were emitting a glorious golden glow. It was bright, to say the least. Then a few people around us gasped, and I noticed that a translucent rose was hovering over Maltor’s head. He had been Claimed. Next to the rose, however, there was another floating symbol. ‘II’. Like second. A rose with a two next to it.
Maltor’s eyes were wide and were staring at a spot above my own head. And I realised what was going on. Right as Maltor looked up to see what was above his head, I did the same. And the world went silent.
There was a floating orb. The exact same golden orb that had appeared over Ethan’s head. Next to this orb, however, was a ‘XI’. Eleven. My brain made the translation instantly.
Everybody on the road that had seen this bowed, including Grandad, Henry, and my friends. And then Grandad spoke.
‘Well done, Maltor Confussée, Grandson of Aphrodite, and Albert Santrrer, Descendant of Titan. You fought valiantly.’
Maltor and I stared blankly at each other.