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The day was overcast and blue-grey clouds drifted across the sky. A chilly wind rustled the trees near the bay; the occasional strong gust was enough to make pedestrians cling tightly to their hats. The odd paper could be seen, bouncing off the cobblestones like an urban tumbleweed. The season was fall and the temperature was dropping. Not a single person braved the outside, not without a coat, at least.

The scent of rain was in the air, accompanied by the salty smell of seawater --- it warned of the coming weather. Despite it all and the late hour --- it was almost six-o-clock --- the ferries were still running.

A large vessel moored in the harbor: in the dim light, its name could be seen, written in large, dark letters --- 'The Bark of Bullen'. It was a stout one, suitable for sailing rougher waters; a different class of vehicle, catering to more well-off clientele. As such, it was not concerned with speed, but with comfort --- many small, but cozy rooms were nested in its bulk. It would only be departing for Liverpool on the morrow, but many of its guests slept overnight; those in particular who'd only a day's business in Dublin.

A ramp stretched from the large, concrete moor to its deck. The storm hadn't struck yet, so it was stable. Figures could be seen, scurrying up and down; they didn't want to be caught out in the open when the rising winds reached their crescendo. Two were of particular interest --- they were a woman and a boy, standing at the base of the ramp.

Arthur's light-brown eyes roamed the surroundings --- it was a fascinating sight. The him from before had lived most their life by the sea, but there was something about the atmosphere that enchanted him; the vintage time period held a sort of charm that was difficult to put into words.

"Is this going to be all right?" he asked, giving voice to the question that had been on his lips for a while.

Jane draped an arm over her son's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I told you not to worry about it." She said, her tone brooking no argument.

Arthur frowned. The serious expression looked a bit comical on his young face. "But it looks expensive. We should-…" He started.

Jane wasn't having any of it. She released his shoulder before giving his back a solid thump. "Come on." She said, stepping forward. "I've already paid, and they don't do refunds."

The youth closed his eyes in resignation. He wished she'd consult him about these things, but he supposed that, as a ten-year-old, that was a bit much to ask. Shouldering his meagre luggage, he started for the board.

It was a familiar voice, shouting his name from behind, that halted him in his tracks. "Arthur!" The voice yelled, in a desperate tone. He turned to face in its direction. Indeed, it was none other than Benjamin, showing up at the last moment. Arthur felt complicated in his heart, and unsure of how he should face this cheap father of his.

The thirty-one-year-old man was in quite a state by the looks of it. His whole person was disheveled, but, in particular, it was the lack of shoes that gave him the appearance of a deranged person. Arthur hadn't seen him all week --- it was something that made him more disappointed than sad. 'At least he could say goodbye before we leave.'He'd thought. Yet, now that Benjamin had appeared, he had no idea what to do.

The man jogged toward the two of them with a bundle in his hands. They couldn't quite make out what it was but, seeing how he cradled it, it had to be important. As he drew near, it became clear that Benjamin only had eyes for his son --- he didn't even look at Jane. If it was because he didn't care for her, well, who knew?

"I'm so glad I caught you before you left. I had one hell of a time finding out what boat you two were taking. Luckily, I'd been hanging around --- I almost didn't spot you in this grey weather!" He huffed, coming to a standstill a few yards away.

Arthur swallowed. "Dad, I-…" He said, but Benjamin didn't let him finish.

"It's all right, son. You don't have to say anything." He consoled, drawing close enough to lay a hand on the lad's shoulder. "Here, take this. It wouldn't do for you to meet your grandparents looking like an urchin. Wouldn't want them to think you poorly of you, right?" He gave a chuckle, but it was clearly forced.

Arthur looked at his father's face. Exhaustion was written all-over his features. 'How long has he been out here?' He thought, biting on his lower lip. No longer hesitating, he stepped forward and threw his arms around his father's waist. "I'll see you again someday, I promise!" He whispered, meaning every word. He'd done Jane wrong, but Arthur knew Benjamin's love for him had always been genuine.

The father hurriedly lifted the parcel out of his son's way --- he didn't want it to be crushed between them. "You fool of a…!" He started, but his voice quickly softened when he felt two little arms squeezing him. Unable to hold it in, tears started flowing down his cheeks. It was raining now, so he was saved some embarrassment, at least.

He cleared his throat. "Don't dawdle, now. You best be on board before the weather gets any worse..." He said, taking Arthur by the shoulders and pushing him away. "…I'll be leaving right away, since I've given you your present." He winked cheekily. "Consider it an early Christmas present from your 'ol dad."

Before Arthur could even thank him, Benjamin gave a fierce nod, turned on his heel and walked off. The mother and son watched him leave, his bare feet slapping against the wet concrete. The youth looked over his shoulder at Jane; at some point, the parcel had been transferred from Benjamin to her. For a brief moment, Arthur saw tenderness in her eyes before it was replaced by stony determination.

"Let's go, Arthur." Jane said. She took her son by the elbow, clutching the parcel in her other hand, and steered them forwards.

Arthur looked over his shoulder, but Benjamin's figure had already become small, and obstructed by all the traffic. He didn't look back. The boy's visage was strange. While letting himself be dragged off, he lifted a hand to his eyes and looked at it; there'd been a tingling sensation in his arms when he hugged his father --- almost like something had travelled along his nerves, to the tips of his fingers and out his body. He'd never felt anything like it. 'Did I imagine it?' He thought, but no, there was still a numbness in his hands. He flicked his fingers like he was trying to get rid of water, but it didn't help.

Suddenly, something drew his attention: in the corner of his vision, an abject floated. Although it was small, Arthur was able to notice it immediately. It was dark and slowly rotating, with a glossy surface. When he focused his eyes on it, it enlarged, like a growing salt crystal. Many white veins swirled inside its black body --- it took less than a second for its transformation to complete.

Arthur stared dumbfoundedly at the thing in front of him – it was a rectangular shape, having the same gloss and dark coloring. It looked like an obsidian slate. On its surface there were white symbols, chiseled in gothic likeness. He read its inscription with eyes as round as dinnerplates.

"What are you looking at?" Jane asked, having noticed her son's abnormality. She peered curiously in the same direction, but she saw nothing. During their ascent, she'd been thinking her own thoughts, but now that they were on the deck, it was time to find their room.

The instant Arthur's attention lapsed, it shrunk away from his field of view. It became a small black square, sitting in the bottom-right of his vision. He looked at his mother, having managed to school his expression into normalcy. "I was just thinking." he said. "We should go in. It's starting to pour now."

Jane nodded. Whatever suspicions she had were quickly shoved aside --- she didn't want Arthur's gift to suffer in the rain, despite where it'd come from. Removing her hand from his arm, she started feeling around in her purse for their key. She already knew what room it belonged to, but she was nervous and checked it just-in-case. "It's room A21." She said, reading the lettering. Moving her hand from her purse, she took her son by the shoulder, and they went.

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After dinner, eaten in their room, the mother and son sat and talked. Arthur was telling her about his parting at school.

"…suddenly broke out into tears and ran out of the classroom. It was strange; I'd not spoken a word to her since I attended. Even now, I can't even remember her name, to be honest." He said, wearing a blank face.

Jane held her hand over her mouth to cover her smile. She felt she shouldn't laugh at the poor girl's predicament. "How cruel! You don't know a maiden's heart, Arthur." She said, mock-admonishing her boy.

Arthur idly fiddled with one of his shirt-buttons. "I'm not sure I want to." He sighed, sounding like he'd been wronged.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

The mother was no longer able to hide her amusement. "You're terrible, really." She chirped, giving his arm a smack.

Arthur sent her a dry look. "I'm not the one who's laughing." He said, wrinkling his nose at Jane. It appeared that he felt some disdain for her hypocrisy; the impression was somewhat ruined by his upward-curling lips.

Jane shook her head at him before sighing. Her countenance lost some of its mirth. "Won't you miss your friends, Arthur? It can be hard --- starting over." She said guiltily.

Arthur's fingers curled around her wrists, squeezing gently. "I really won't, mom. I'm looking forward to England." He said. He was telling the truth. It was only three days ago that he'd heard of his mysterious grandparents, but he was eager to find out more. If someone else'd been in his situation, they'd be curious as well.

Jane stared into her son's eyes, trying to see if he was telling the truth. When his expression didn't waver, she frowned. She didn't exactly like the idea that he was so unattached.

Arthur was able to somewhat sense her mood. He didn't want to deal with a cross-examination, so he decided to change the topic. "I'm going to open dad's gift." He said. It was something they'd avoided talking about until now, but it couldn't be put off forever. He stood and took the tied bag from where it hung. It was brown and a little damp from the rain.

Jane sighed. "Let me." Hearing him agree, she took it from his hands and started working the knot. After fiddling with it for a few seconds, she was able to get it open. When she saw what was inside, she stilled.

Arthur noticed some tension in her shoulders. She was sitting on their bed with her back facing to him and the parcel spread over her lap. The room was so small that he had to get on his knees behind her to see. Looking over her shoulder, he saw a light-brown tweed suit, complete with a cap, tie, shirt and shoes. It was well-made. 'It couldn't have been cheap.' He thought.

All his clothes were used --- given their destitute state, there was no way his parents could afford to buy new every time he outgrew his garments. 'It doesn't look like it's ever been worn.' He noted.

He reached out a hand and took the cap. It matched the suit perfectly in terms of texturing and color. He lifted it to his nose and took a sniff. 'So that's what new smells like. It's different from what I remember.' Turning it over in his hands, he decided that he liked it. There was something about tweed suits that made them seem like something you could wear casually.

He would have to bring a present with him the next time he returned, to repay his father. 'If I can…' He considered. He couldn't remember the date, but he knew the… well, the war wasn't far away. He wasn't too worried, since he knew Ireland had remained neutral. It was something he remembered from his previous studies.

'Dad should be safe, as long as he doesn't get involved.' He sighed. The only problem was that he'd hardly be able to come and go as he pleased. If their relationship was as bad as it sounded, he doubted his grandparents would just let him visit.

He looked up at his mother's face from where he now sat --- cross-legged at the end of the bed. Her pupils were large and some moisture had gathered at the corners of her eyes. He patted her hand consolingly. "I promised dad I'd visit him one day --- I'll send him a letter as soon as we land in Liverpool." He said, doing his best to calm her.

She sighed and nodded. Sticking out her hand, she took the cap from him. "Let's not wrinkle anything. You can put it on once we're in Northumberland." She said. Arthur watched as she took his little suitcase from the floor and unpacked everything. Once she did, she neatly folded the suit and put it inside. The other clothes were stuffed in the bag, along with the suitcase. "There, now it'll keep tidy." She said, putting the whole thing under their bed.

Arthur considered her words. "Northumberland --- is that where your family lives?" He asked.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "They're your family too, mister." She said, leaning over and pinching his nose. "We'll take the train to Newcastle --- they'll send someone to pick us up at the station. I've sent them a letter with our timetable."

'That is, if they're willing to take us in.' She added inwardly. If they didn't, she'd organize a carriage to the manor. Even if she had to beg at their front door, she was willing to do it. Hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary, but only time would tell.

She circled and arm around Arthur and pulled him to her chest. "If there's anything else you want to know, you'll have to ask your mom tomorrow." She said, yawning widely. So much had happened in such a short period of time; the events of this week was a result of the tension that'd been building since she and Benjamin had gotten married. She didn't regret it --- if they hadn't, she'd not have her son. Even though it was worth her suffering, she still wished it'd never come to this.

Arthur murmured his agreement. His face was squished against her breast, but he didn't feel awkward. It was during moments like these that he felt thankful for his childish body.

Lifting his head, he glanced at her face. Her features were pretty, if a bit hollow. He recognized it in the same way one would the beauty of a flower. 'She's too skinny, but hopefully that'll change in the future.' He thought.

Jane noticed his stare. "What are you thinking of?" She asked, stroking his hair with one hand.

"You look as tired as I feel." He answered, mirroring her yawn. "Is it all right if we turn out the light?"

In reply, Jane reached for the lantern sitting on a narrow wooden shelf, sticking out from the wall. There was a candle inside it, enclosed for the purpose of fire-prevention. She opened its little compartment and blew out the flickering flame. The room darkened immediately. The only light was a weak orange glow underneath their door --- the lanterns in the hallway were still lit.

After she'd put the lantern back on the shelf, Jane moved her arm down, wrapping it around Arthur's waist. After a bit of wriggling, they managed to shift into a comfortable position on their small bed. "Good night." She said.

Arthur clutched their wool blanket in one fist and closed his eyes. "Sleep well, mom." He replied.

It wasn't long before both had drifted off to dreamland.

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'Of course, there's no way I can sleep!' Arthur thought. He'd only pretended to --- what he really wanted was to examine the mysterious tablet that'd appeared to him earlier; he'd just been waiting for Jane to fall asleep. It would be bad if she noticed anything strange.

Even though his eyes were closed, he could still see the little square in the corner of his vision. A silver border was drawn around the black shape, and his attention was quickly drawn towards it. Just as it had today, it enlarged into the same black slab with silvery symbols. His mind frantically scanned it from top to bottom: there wasn't much written on it, only six lines of sparse text with numerals:

Potentia ( 0,1 )

Particularia

Physica ( 0,2 )

Mystica ( 0,3 )

Proficiendi

Spontanea Evocatio ( 0,1 )

Arthur's heart was beating rapidly. Ideas were swirling in his mind --- he had a solid guess as to what exactly the tablet represented, even though he wasn't able to understand all the words. Regarding the first line in particular, he was clueless.

''Mystica', that's basically magic, isn't it?" He wondered, although he was rather sure of it. His mind wandered to when he'd hugged his father. 'Did I use magic on him? But how, and what did I do, exactly?' The only thing noteworthy about that interaction that seemed relevant was that he'd been emotional, more so than was usual for him. 'Did that 'magic' trigger the appearance of this tablet?' He questioned. 'It had to be --- there isn't anything else that would make sense.'

He was dreadfully eager to start messing with it, but he was worried about the consequences. If something happened that he hadn't anticipated, he wouldn't know how to explain it to his mother. It was only through sheer willpower that he managed to close the tablet, but only after giving it one last look. 'I need to be somewhere private, somewhere nobody will notice me.' He reasoned. This cramped ship certainly wasn't the place to be experimenting, neither would a train be suitable. 'I can only hope I'll be able to get some privacy in the future.'

With how his mind was racing, he wasn't able to fall asleep until much time had passed. There were too many questions in his head, and too many plans. It was both exciting and frightening. He didn't know what the future held for him, but he had a feeling that it might be more than he'd bargained for.

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