Aldin’s eyes snapped open, the remnants of a dream clinging to his consciousness. The room was dark, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened in the past few days. The dream felt so real. Was it just his imagination? He swung his legs off the bed and grabbed the journal from his mother’s study. It seemed like a good place to start piecing things together. Flipping it open, he read the first page:
Master finally shared the secret he’d been holding back. He said starting a new journal would help me sort out my thoughts, to keep straight who I was before and who I am now. I want to think he’s lost it, but he’s always spot on. I always thought my magic came from my parents and that my twinned soul appeared early on. I never imagined I was the sorcerer, or that I had some grand destiny. But Master’s never wrong, and the twinned crystal doesn’t lie – I’ve only got one soul. My mana is both internal and external. I need to mull this over alone.
Aldin felt a pang of sympathy for Alice, who had also learned about her magic later in life. At least she had guidance; he was pretty much on his own. Melissa and Luna knew some stuff, but not enough to really help. He read on, learning about Alice’s training and how she grew into her powers. Her notes were detailed, like she’d jotted down everything she’d been told and then fleshed it out later.
He sat there for nearly an hour, absorbed in the journal, until he reached the part about Alice’s first run-in with Corthus. The guy had come at her through another disciple, claiming he could teach her more than her own master. Alice didn’t buy it, and that was that. But the next entry was intense.
We were attacked today. I can’t believe Hansho would let those creatures into the monastery. What was he thinking, trying to be the first of the fallen? This Corthus guy will pay for what he’s done. Master didn’t deserve to go out like that. I’m going to make things right. Tomorrow, I head to America to train with a master swordsman in Seattle. I’ve got to keep up my magical training.
The rest of the journal was blank, as if Alice had left it behind when she left the monastery. Aldin sighed, put the journal down, and went to find something to eat. In the kitchen, there was a plate waiting for him, Delphine must have known he’d be hungry.
He sat down and started eating, listening to the kids running around and laughing. It was wild to think about all these people with magic, hidden right under everyone’s noses. What if everyone had magic? How different would the world be? Just the thought of being able to heal sickness with magic made life seem a lot less daunting.
“Hey Aldin,” Luna’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Hey Luna. What’s going on?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“Good. I’ve got something for you to do.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You should go see Miss Tempe. She helps us figure out our specialties. Mom thinks it’s time for you to find out yours. You up for it?”
“Sure. That sounds great. I didn’t know we all had specialties.”
“I’m good with light magic. Most of us have a specialty, but we can still use other types of magic. It’s just not as easy.”
“I see. Well, where to?” He asked.
“Come, good sir,” Luna teased, a mischievous glint in her eye as she effortlessly conjured a swirling portal with a mere flick of her wrist.
Aldin hesitated, then stepped through after her, his breath catching as they emerged beside the underground tour office in the heart of downtown. The place was a nexus of forgotten tales and hidden truths.
“What’s the plan here?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of trepidation.
“This is our gateway to the market. Is something wrong?” Luna inquired, her tone light but probing.
“Nothing… It’s just unexpected.” Aldin managed, nodding toward the tour office, a landmark of his previous terror.
“Don’t dawdle,” she chuckled, tugging at his arm, leading him toward the staircase that spiraled down into the earth, the very place where he had once fled in sheer panic.
With each step downward, Aldin’s heart pounded louder in his chest. Was he truly ready to face this again? The memory of the ghostly woman lingered in his mind, a silent specter in the shadows. Luna seemed oblivious or indifferent to the haunting presence that had once stalked these steps. Confusion warred with curiosity within him as they descended deeper into the unknown.
Aldin stepped warily into the cavernous expanse of the underground market, his previous encounter with the apparition still haunting his thoughts. The air was alive with a symphony of magical sounds: the gentle tinkling of enchanted charms, the soft hum of spellbound artifacts, and the occasional crackle of raw magical energy being harnessed.
The market stretched out before him, a seemingly endless maze of stalls and shops carved into the earth itself. Each vendor’s space was a treasure trove of the arcane and the mystical. There were orbs that pulsed with captured lightning, cloaks woven from the silk of moonlight spiders shimmering with an ethereal light, and boots that left no tracks, no matter where one walked.
Aldin’s gaze was drawn to a stall draped in velvet the color of the midnight sky, where a wizard with eyes like polished onyx showcased his wares. A set of armor, forged in dragon fire and cooled in the tears of sirens, promised invincibility. Next to it lay a sword that whispered of battles long past, its blade forged from a fallen star, guaranteeing victory to its bearer.
Further along, a witch with hair as white as snow and a smile that hinted at untold secrets beckoned Aldin closer. Her potions were a kaleidoscope of swirling colors, each vial containing a different spell: love, laughter, sorrow, and rage. She offered him a taste of a potion that could make one relive their happiest memory, its surface dancing with flecks of gold.
High above, enchanted chandeliers floated, casting a soft glow over the market. Creatures of legend perambulated among the shoppers: griffins with feathers that glinted like gold, tiny dragons that breathed puffs of smoke, and fairies that darted about, their laughter like the ringing of tiny bells.
In the deepest part of the market, where the shadows gathered, Aldin found a bookshop. The tomes within whispered of ancient knowledge and forbidden spells. One book caught his eye, its cover a living mosaic of scenes playing out histories of different realms.
Despite the wonders surrounding him, Aldin couldn’t shake off the chill that crept up his spine whenever he passed the spot where he’d seen the ghost. It was a silent reminder that amidst all the magic, there were still things that were beyond understanding, even here in the heart of the underground market.
Luna tugged Aldin along, her grip firm yet playful, until they reached a secluded shop nestled in the shadowy recesses of the market. With a flourish, she ushered him through the door, sealing them away from the cacophony of the magical bazaar.
The shop was a pocket of stillness, a stark contrast to the bustling market outside. “This place is…” Aldin’s voice trailed off as he took in the surroundings.
“Enchanted?” Luna’s laughter echoed, soft and lilting, as she caught the bewildered expression that crossed his face.
“Enchanted doesn’t begin to cover it,” Aldin breathed out, his eyes wide with wonder. “That book… the images were so vivid; it was as if I stepped into those worlds myself. It’s beyond belief.”
“Beyond belief is our specialty,” chimed a voice, rich and resonant, from deeper within the shop. “Welcome to Seattle’s hidden gem, the magical market where the extraordinary is commonplace.” An elderly woman emerged from behind a beaded curtain, her presence commanding yet ethereal. Her hair, a cascade of silver, flowed to the ground, framing a face that belied her age, and her eyes, a striking shade of stormy blue, seemed to pierce through to Aldin’s very essence.
“Now Luna, who is this astonished boy you brought to me?”
“He’s new to Evermore and hasn’t ever had a soul casting conducted. We were hoping you could do it for us?” Luna stated happily.
“I can do that. Though I’ll do this one for free on account of y’all losing your home. No need to fuss over payment when it would be taking from those sweet kids of your mom’s. Now, come and sit while I make some tea.”
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“Thank you so much,” Luna said, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. She gave a small bow her eyes twinkling with gratitude and took her place at the quaint table tucked away in the corner. Aldin joined her, his eyes wandering over the room’s simple interior. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant market outside, yet there was an inexplicable allure to it, like a faint melody playing just beyond his hearing.
Mrs. Tempe soon returned, her arrival marked by the graceful dance of teacups and a teapot gliding through the air, following in her wake as she carried a wooden box that seemed to hum with hidden secrets. She set the box on the third chair and opened it, revealing its contents as the teapot and cups settled themselves on the table, serving tea without a touch. A bowl, spoon, and milk jug joined them, floating as if carried by an unseen hand.
From the box, Mrs. Tempe drew an amethyst that sparkled with a light from within. “Just touch the stone, and it’ll take care of the rest,” she said, her smile warm and inviting.
Aldin’s nod was barely perceptible, a silent agreement to the unspoken pact with the gem. His hands, tentative at first, then with growing confidence, cradled the amethyst’s chill. A quiver, like the whisper of a shadow, traced its way along his spine, converging on the scar that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Then, a muted pop, like the softest echo of a distant thunderclap, heralded the onset of a profound transformation. A surge of arcane power coursed through him, a river of energy that filled him to the brim with a newfound potency.
Luna and Mrs. Tempe stood transfixed; their gazes locked on the unfolding spectacle. The room—once mundane—now thrummed with a brilliant aura of mana, its glow painting their faces with hues of wonder. They drew in a collective breath, the air now laden with the weight of magic, as if they had plunged into the depths of an enchanted sea.
Above the stone, an ethereal light blossomed, a tapestry of aquamarine and gold, threaded with strands of purple—a spectral display that danced with an otherworldly elegance.
“Remarkable,” Mrs. Tempe murmured, her voice a hushed reverence in the charged atmosphere.
“Does this happen often?” Aldin’s voice broke through, tinged with a mix of awe and uncertainty.
“Not in the least,” Luna responded, her words wrapped in the gravity of the moment.
Mrs. Tempe’s eyes twinkled with a blend of mischief and solemnity. “You’re either the Sorcerer of legend, or I’m a fortune-teller with a foot for a nose.”
Aldin’s shrug was a ripple in the magical current, and Mrs. Tempe’s nod was all the confirmation needed. “The colors of your soul’s reflection are telling—a mastery of space magic in the blue, the intricate dance of time in the gold, and the strength of physical enhancement in the purple. A rare combination, indeed.”
Luna’s voice was a soft echo. “Space and time mages are legends among us. Your abilities go beyond the mere title of Sorcerer.”
Before Aldin could respond, time itself seemed to fracture, the world around him coming to an abrupt halt. He felt an irresistible pull, a tug at the very fabric of his being, and his surroundings shifted. The shop faded away, replaced by an expanse of clouds stretching into infinity.
“Ah, at last, the meeting I’ve longed for,” came a voice, laced with a hint of annoyance.
Aldin whirled around to face the newcomer—an old man with a beard as white as the clouds and hair the color of stormy skies. His robes, a majestic purple tinged with the gray of twilight and the glint of gold, billowed around him. His smile was wide, revealing a lifetime of secrets.
“Who are you?” Aldin demanded, his voice steady despite the surreal encounter.
“Tempus, or just Temp for short,” the old man replied, his tone casual yet commanding. “Let’s forget the formalities for a moment, Aldin,” Tempus said, his voice rich with the wisdom of years gone by. “In the grand scheme of things, you and I share a bond that goes beyond mere acquaintance.” Aldin’s look of confusion softened as Tempus began to weave a tail.
“In a land not so different from your own, there was a man of considerable influence named Corthus,” Tempus recounted, each word carefully chosen for its truth and resonance. “He wasn’t a mythical being, yet, but his power lay in subtlety and secrecy. He had a talent for slipping into people’s minds, guiding them with an invisible hand.”
Tempus’s eyes held a distant memory as he continued. “His closest ally was the skree, a creature not born of fables but of flesh and blood. Its venom was a metaphor for Corthus’s insidious methods—a poison that could taint thoughts and cloud judgment.”
He paused, ensuring Aldin was following along. “This story isn’t just a parable; it’s parallel to the reality you face. Corthus’s shadow stretches far and wide, and it’s not about overt control, but about the kind of manipulation that’s hard to see until it’s too late. And you, Aldin, you’re at the center of his web.”
Tempus leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “The world isn’t just black and white, and the true threats aren’t always the ones with teeth and claws. They’re often hidden, disguised as friends or allies. So, keep your wits about you and trust your instincts. That’s the best defense you have.”
Tempus’s urgency was palpable, his words a torrent. “Two questions, Sorcerer. Time is fleeting, and your choices here are paramount.”
Aldin paused; the weight of his decision heavy upon his shoulders. Then, with newfound resolve, he spoke. “What is this cloud place? Can I return here? And how am I supposed to defeat a demon like Corthus?”
“Indeed, questions of great import, three it is,” Tempus said, his voice resonating with the wisdom of ages. “This realm is the collective consciousness, a tapestry of thoughts and experiences shared across existence. It’s a place of immense power, where you can witness history, observe the present, and glimpse into the countless possibilities of the future. Here, you can uncover the depths of any soul, learning their past, present, and potential futures. You may return here with but a simple thought of intent. To overcome Corthus, you must paradoxically find strength in defeat. It’s in this seeming contradiction that you’ll discover the way to prevail. Until next time. Oh, one more thing. Behind the ear is a skree’s favorite location to employ its venom.” With a gesture as if pulling a thread from the air, Tempus faded, his presence dissolving into the ether.
As quickly as the vision had come, it dissipated, and Aldin was returned to the familiar surroundings of Mrs. Tempe’s shop. The pendulum of time resumed its rhythm, and the magic of the moment was woven into the fabric of his reality, a profound encounter etched into his memory.
“That type of power is hard to control but with your affinity you’ll be able to do amazing things once you get a grip on your abilities.” Mrs. Tempe said.
Their conversation resumed as if Aldin hadn’t just spoken with the first sorcerer or been given a vague warning about allies and skrees. This so-called collective consciousness would come in handy if he could go there whenever he wanted. The ability to stop in battle without the enemy being able to hurt him would be extremely beneficial. Now he just had to figure out which of his allies was under Corthus’s control, if not how many were.
“Aldin?” Luna asked.
“Hmm?” He answered, lost in thought. “Oh, sorry. Distracted by my own thoughts. Thank you, Mrs. Tempe. I appreciate the reading if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to think about.”
“Yes, yes. Important sorcerer business no doubt. Go, I will await the tales of your grandeur.” she said jokingly.
“Thanks Mrs. Tempe.” Luna said as they all stood and parted ways. The chill of the evening air bit their skin as they left. “You alright? You seemed lost in thought back there, not really with us,” she observed, her voice laced with a hint of worry.
Aldin’s response was halted as a body collided with him from behind, jolting him forward. “Hey! Watch where you’re—Evan?” he blurted out, a mix of annoyance and surprise coloring his tone.
Luna’s query sliced through the awkward moment. “Hey Ev, what are you doing at the market?”
Evan’s answer was brusque, his shove dismissive as he pushed past Aldin. “Mind your own business,” he spat out, his words sharp as shards of ice.
Rubbing his shoulder where Evan had made contact, Aldin couldn’t help but wonder aloud, “What the hell’s his problem?”
Luna’s brow furrowed with concern. “Something’s not right. I need to tell my mom about this. You coming?”
Aldin forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, I think I’ll hang back. I can get back on my own,”
Her laughter was a brief respite in the tense atmosphere. “You don’t trust my portals anymore?” she teased. “Fine, just don’t get into any mischief,” she called over her shoulder as she stepped through her portal and disappeared.
Once alone, Aldin’s expression grew serious. He closed his eyes, focusing. At first it didn’t feel like it would work but suddenly he felt a wave of energy wash out of him and thrust him upwards for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t surrounded by the clouds anymore but blueish translucent screens. Each one showed him a different person, several different futures were attached to each screen like an open file in a computer.
It took some sifting, but he finally found Evan and watched their interaction until he saw where he went. He did that for an hour or so glimpsing a very short amount of time into Evans’ future to see where he was headed. It took a few tries to figure out that he couldn’t depend on a deep dive into Evans’ future. He could, at maximum, only see nine seconds into it without it being disrupted by time itself. He had to keep it within that threshold every time. So, he followed as closely as he thought he could. The pursuit took Aldin beneath the bustling streets of West Seattle, to a shadowy den hidden beneath the neon glow of the bars above. The chase had been odd, with Evan occasionally casting furtive glances around, never quite locking eyes with Aldin. It was clear to Aldin that Evan was aware of his presence but pretended otherwise. Aldin didn’t think it would matter, even with a short glance into Evan’s future he could make decisions based on that. Even if Evan was leading him into a trap he would know.
Something caught his eye as they shambled down a long underground corridor. There was a small thing behind Evans’ right ear. As soon as Aldin saw it his perception focused on it and zoomed in like a scope. It was a small worm-like creature that had its front half dug into Evans’ skin behind his ear. A Skree. That would explain the odd behavior and the chase through Seattle.
As Evan reached for a door at the end of the dimly lit hallway, Aldin made his move. He thought of speed, and his legs responded with a burst of energy. He was almost upon Evan, reaching for his ear, when Evan suddenly whirled around, his movements unnaturally quick. It wasn’t Evan reacting; it was the skree controlling him, sensing Aldin’s approach. With a swift, brutal motion, Evan—or the skree—flung Aldin to the ground. Blood spilled from Aldin’s mouth as he hit the concrete floor.
The door swung open, and a grizzled man with a beard peppered with grey and a weathered face peered out. “What’s all this ruckus? Evan is that you?” he grumbled, his voice rough like gravel.
Evan stood over Aldin, a smirk twisting his features. “This ‘Sorcerer’ followed me from the market. Thought this would be the best place to corner him. And having complete control over this one,” he said, tapping his chest, “is a nice bonus.”
The older man’s instructions were simple and cold. “Knock him out and bring him in,” he ordered.
“That was always the plan,” Evan replied, his hand raised to strike. Aldin’s eyes were already shut, bracing for the blow. He could unleash his power and end this confrontation swiftly, but that would risk both his and Evan’s lives. He had to suffer through this; it wasn’t Evan’s doing, after all. Tempus’s earlier mention of the skree was not just a warning—it was a prelude to this very moment.