It was early when Jimmy woke up. Far too early.
It was dark which was the first clue, and his mother's news station was not blaring Super vitriol across the house, which was the second.
The proof was when he rummaged in his bedside table for his phone. He glared at the three numbers and 2 letter displayed on his screen.
[3:00 AM]
"Nope." He said. "No, that's too early. I'm tired. I'm cosmically hungry. I've got a date — oohhh fudge.
Jimmy clapped a hand over his eyes. The. Date.
That date had seemed like such a good idea on Tuesday. With Vicky's gorgeous eyes staring at him in the park on one hand, and the Itch going into Itchi-niptions on the other, it had been hard to make another one.
Now, the prospect of stumbling over his tongue for a couple hours in front of the most beautiful girl in junior year while on a picnic was far less appetizing.
"You're just making trouble for me!" Jimmy hissed. "And besides! How is going on a date with my accomplice anything less than insane with FBI agents roaming the school?!"
The Itch... burbled something. Which actually was better than usual! Normally it ignored him unless something caught its eye, or he was breaking some existential rule it thought should govern his existence.
"Oh. You're awake then too. Good." Jimmy grumped. "You could at least tell me what the whole bootlicking deal is you know? Seeing as I'm risking my self confidence — and my neck — for your idiosyncrasies and all."
The Itch did its low key itching thing. It had grown worse over night. A kind of dull hum of discontentment that was so deep, that Jimmy felt like he'd have dig all the way down to his bones to scratch it.
Now that was a pleasant thought.
Not a red zone moment. Not yet. But his fingers were going to be stickier than usual, Jimmy knew. Not as bad as they'd been on Tuesday, but....
"AAAARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH! I've just been here! All this over some power practice?!" Jimmy slapped his forehead with one of his hands and glared at the time.
"You can't just tell me?"
Nothing.
"You know. Kaykes barely believes you're more than a figment of my imagination, but I know you could be far more helpful than you're being.
Still nothing.
"Speak to me you foolish Itch and tell me about the whole damned sit—"
----------------------------------------
"—A Day and Night of Captured Fright. —"
— The Boy lay on an alter. At least it felt like an alter.
It was cold and hard and smooth. Probably stone. And it was raised. There were grooves cut all along its surface in lines that whorled and twisted oddly.
He knew this because the edges of those grooves cut uncomfortably into his back. His naked back. He was naked. And he couldn't move. Not... one... inch.
Yes. This was definitely an alter.
For some reason, this revelation did not bother The Boy the way he would have expected.
"— My sisters are competent." A woman's voice was saying.
"—A Wicked Act by Frozen Moonlight —"
"We can hold the Dilation as long as is necessary. But only thrice, Borengirdle. Your Brothers of the Beard, will have to work—"
"—ift of shame. A Little Pain. An' All For Not but a Foolish Game"
"No one calls us Brothers of the Beard. It lacks propriety." This voice was huffy, and familiar.
The Boy strained his eyes to his peripherals, and a familiar wagging beard and hat combination swam into view. He was speaking keenly with a tall, spindly woman, wearing a long black gown and a peaked hat with a brim that fell low over her eyes.
"—ieves we might be able to increase our output significantly if we invest in a remarkable process called Daylight Savings. There is actually quite a lot of precedent. Why, volume seventy-three — auspicious number — of the Tribault Initiative Tombs describes a simi —"
"He is awake." The Woman cut in quickly, sounding a little strangled. She hurried over.
"Good awakening." She leaned over The Boy, and with her standing over him, The Boy could see the crows feet at the corners of her eyes and the hard Blackness far back in her gaze. "Are you comfortable young man?"
"—End it. Bend it. Tend it. Mend it.—"
"I am a little cold, Ma'am?" He thought he should call her Ma'am. "But otherwise this is quite cozy."
"I dare say a little Breath of Summer should put you right at home then, dear." She huffed a short breath, and suddenly, it felt like he was basking on a warm beach.
"Oh, that is perfect." The Boy exclaimed and grinned.
"We are going to run some tests now. Just answer my questions truthfully and tell me how you feel. Now, does this hurt?"
She pinched him.
"Yes."
And she didn't stop.
"When you can bare the pain no longer, ask me to stop."
The Boy didn't.
The Woman stopped. "Your dearest sister died in a potions accident because she mixed her Gasp of Frozen Terror with Whitest Fury after it had thawed."
The Boy believed her.
"How do you feel?"
The Boy sighed. "I wish she hadn't waited so long before mixing."
The funny, bearded man grunted and The Woman's mouth twitched a little. "Quite. I am going to stab you now." And a sudden hot pain in his leg accompanied her words. "I nicked an artery. If you do not convince me to heal you, you will join your sister."
The Boy pursed his lips and thought. Finally he asked, "What is the best way to convince you?"
The pain disappeared.
"The Elixir of Ardent Apathy is a powerful brew." The Woman muttered to the bearded man. "It should hold, and we have spares. Shall we begin, Borengirdle?"
"Just hold your spectacles! That Daylight Savings process bears looking into." The bearded man protested. "If he's right, we can scale the power consumption, by several consistently Eternal —
"—Three Score. Two Fold. Seven Asunder. Roll of Thund—"
"Time, we have little left." Was all The Woman said, and Borengirdle deflated. He nodded grudgingly.
"What are you going to do to me?" The Boy asked.
"We will break you." Said The Woman, fiddling with something just out of sight.
She beckoned and another figure in a hat rushed over, passed her something and darted off again, and suddenly The Boy realized that there were actually quite a few people in the room with them, just too far away for his peripherals to catch.
"—Tragedies From Camelot's Pleas. A Stolen Voice of Absent Choice. Broken Bonds And Scattered Wi—"
"Will it hurt?" He asked.
"More than you can bare."
"Why?"
"Why will it be more than you can bare?"
"No. Why are you doing this?"
"—nd A False Claim Shall Ne'er Again Befit Thine Name—"
The Woman paused what she was doing with her hands, and looked down at him.
Her eyes were cold, and Black, but there was something there. Just below the surface. For moment, The Boy thought it was sadness. But only for a moment.
"Because you deserve it." She said.
"Oh." And The Boy breathed a long sigh.
----------------------------------------
— Jimmy blinked as his screen flickered.
[3:14 AM]
'Nice'. He thought. 'What were we saying? Oh right. I'm existentially hungry and I'm tired, but I can't sleep.' His stomach rumbled a bit now.
'And. Now I'm actually hungry. Well, I can do something about one of those things.' And Jimmy grudgingly climbed out of bed.
'Stupid Itch'.
----------------------------------------
Life as a Super Human was different from the life Jimmy remembered participating in beforehand. But not in the way he would have expected.
Books like The Go Team or Excelcior or Line of Valor. They all were filled with action and horrible world changing choices.
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The characters were always frowning. They were always getting into fights and shooting off one-liners that were more at home imagined in a shower than shouted into a villains face. And they discussed the fate of the world — or in Excelcior's case, worlds — solemnly and like it was an actually acceptable conversation topic.
It wasn't. For many reasons.
The first day Jimmy realized he was a Super Human, he did actually spend a good hour in the shower coming up with those one-liners. And when he exited, geared to try them out, he found his sister standing outside the door with several choice comments of her own that she managed to shoot off far faster than he could.
So those one-liners? Those were for Master at Arms from The Go Team. The fight scenes? Probably Line of Valor.
But magic? Not the flashy stuff like Grand Fireball or Summon: Eternal Depths of Hell. Useful magic?
Jimmy grinned, and his hand flicked!
He could do magic.
Heated Socks of Fluff and Fury
Blanket of Eternal Comfort
Casual Robe of Mysterious Attire
Fireside Blushed Coat of the Adventurous Peaks
Slippers — Just Slippers
There were more. Many more.
They arched into the air as if on parade and spun about him as his fingers moved.
"Oof. Such choices. Well Fireside Blushed Coat of the Adventurous Peaks is a ski jacket, Itch, and if the Fireside Blushed part means what I think it means, I'm going to be a furnace within a second of leaving my room. No. With great power comes great responsibility."
That card slipped itself back underneath his mattress.
"Casual Robe of Mysterious Attire, you're a bathrobe. Go join your brother." It did.
"And what's up with Just Slippers? Those things feel like they were sewn from the most lovingly sheared heavenly sheep!"
His mental card text seemed to shimmer in his mind for a moment, and then solidified again, still as Slippers — Just Slippers.
"Ok. Well, that's just petty. It stays."
So did Blanket of Eternal Comfort and the cards Un-sweated Sweatshirt and Fresh Dried Sweatpants.
Jimmy beamed at them. And then he wore them.
It was quick! He tapped the pants to his legs and suddenly they were on — and still with that perfect warmth from the dryer! The sweatshirt followed suit and when he gripped the Blanket of Eternal Comfort and flourished it around himself like donning a cape, it fell about his shoulders and wrapped around exactly like it was supposed to.
Magic. Everyday, casual magic. 'So much better than grand fireball.'
Jimmy didn't un-card his slippers on though. Half the magic of wearing those was slipping into them. Which he did with a sigh.
'Just slippers... Pft. So wrong.' And Jimmy tiptoed quietly downstairs.
In a couple hours. His mother would wake up and want to turn on the news and listen to all the horrible things Supers had done while they were asleep.
About an hour later, his sister would follow suit and be grumpy about coffee and... actually everything about the day and especially Jimmy would cause her consternation.
And just several more hours after that, Jimmy was going to go on the most stressful event — possibly exceeding his Buck encounter — of his life. That ill-advised date with Vicky.
Jimmy could feel his tongue already tying itself up in preparation for that.
But before all of that.. 'Neath the cold white moon and shade of night. 'Neath an hourglass of electric might. Above a stove of fiery blue, Magic most cunning shall I imbue....
Magic
Or breakfast.
----------------------------------------
There was one good thing about night times and very early mornings.
He could be Super without worry of being caught. Or judgement from Kaykes. And, it had to be said, that being a Super... aside from the uncomfortably Itchy drawbacks, was Super cool.
Perfectly Heated Pan of Searing spun into the air as Jimmy rummaged in the fridge. Two eggs.
Two Un-life of Chickens flew to join the pan.
"You know. You could just call them eggs."
... Two Un-life of Chickens revolved slowly around the pan in interweaving circles.
"Eggs. They're Eggs!"
... Jimmy cracked the two Un-life of Chickens into the pan, and caught the toast, the moment the toaster binged — 'perfect' — en-CARD! for later.
Toast was apparently just Toast.
Dash of Salts, pepper and various other spices all made it onto his eggs — Jimmy didn't discriminate — and when his eggs were all seared to perfection and just a little runny on the inside, Jimmy flipped them into the air and en-carded them as they fell.
Jimmy liked carding things. It was simply fun. And how the cards floated and flowed and spun where he directed them? Magic.
The plate came next. Jimmy had more than a few of those stashed away, from... well, just about everywhere he'd eaten in the last month. They kind of just left restaurants with him. And his mother had been complaining of a lack of plates recently for a reason.
Butter from the fridge.
Two Toasts became just two toasts, but still freshly hot! So Jimmy cut slabs of butter and threw them on and...
Re-carded it back up again for later. Jimmy eyed the stove speculatively.
The burner fire was still on. He hadn't turned it off yet, but.... Yesterday, Jimmy had carded air. Poorly, but....
'Theres... no way.' He thought as his heart did a sort of excited tumble. 'No...'.
Magic. Well, a theme was a theme. And tonight just felt like....
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at the flame. 'Just gas.' He thought. 'Just really hot...' And he flicked his hand through the burner.
The burners hissed and that off-smell of gas filled the air.
Jimmy blinked rapidly. 'Fudge!' And he scrambled to spin the correct knob. Then he gawked at the glowing, blue-splotched, red card layered with concentric circles and arcane glyphs.
Flames of Blue — But Just a Few
A runaway chemical reaction. Caught in card and time. Jimmy could feel himself cackling. 'Kaykes is gonna lose her science marbles!'
Jimmy un-carded it eagerly and it flickered into ephemeral motes of blue flame, and disappeared.
Jimmy blinked at where they'd hovered. "Yes... Yes, that was definitely just a few...."
It made sense though, Jimmy thought. Fire was pretty instantaneous. Once the fuel combusted, no more fire. But....
Jimmy bit his lip in focus, and turned the burner on again. He hesitated. 'Just like the water bottle trick,' He thought. 'Not a snap, but a stretch'.
He jabbed his finger into the fire.
"Ow!" and pulled it back out again. 'Not fast enough. Gotta be fast.' Jimmy squinted his eyes and focused. 'Not a snap. Stretch for it. And pull the fire into card-space... or wherever it was that all his things went when he carded them.' Stretch.
Jimmy jabbed again at the fire, and reached. He pushed that thin so thin film, out around the blue tendrils from the burner and pulled.
The flames flickered out and that gas smell happened.
A second later the blue motes burned themselves out above Jimmy's hand again. Maybe they'd stuck around slightly longer?
Jimmy frowned. 'Not pull.' He thought. 'I'm not sucking through a straw. I'm taking what exists. What's there.'
That felt more right.
'Kaykes' bottle exercise.' Jimmy did it again. And again.
And again.
He held his hand fully in the burner now — it didn't burn him. Not when he was carding it. He wrapped that thin film around each one of those tendrils and held it. Mine. Heeeeel— "Ow!"
He shook his hand out. 'Again!'
Not hold. Create. Consume. Form. 'I'm forming a card out of you. All of you. I'm FORMING a card. Just really, really slowly —'
That deep feeling of vulnerability, Openness — was that right? He thought it was — came. It got worse fast.
'It's supposed to be a snap. But. If I do it really, really, reallllllyyyyyyyyyy sloooowwwwwwwwww —'
Jimmy strained. He could feel the card trying to form. He thought he could see it too. Like little flickers. Ghosts of rectangular shapes. Different cards. Different symbols flickering and slithering around his fingers and the blue flames.
'Slooooowwwwwwwwwwwwww...' His breathing felt ragged. He started to shiver. He was so Open. So vulnerable to... 'What was he vulnerable to?'
ANYTHING.
Jimmy quivered.
He bit his lip and squinted. 'HOOOOO' There was definitely a card trying to from now. It flickered between his fingers as his will fluctuated. Flashes of blue. Black symbols. Shapes fluttering in and out of existence. 'OOOOLLLLLLLDDDDD —'
Jimmy rocked back, clutching a glowing blue card and gasping. 'Oh fudgesticks' He thought. 'Oh boy. How much time was I?' He checked the time. A minute. A single minute had passed.
'A minute! That felt like ten!' But when Jimmy looked down at the card this time, it said the same words as before. Flames of Blue — But Just a Few. Now though... now, he thought he saw another line just below it. Almost like a subscript.
Flames of Blue — But Just a Few
Yet Many More Than There Were Before
And this time, when Jimmy un-carded it, it flared like a nova in midair and there was nothing at all ephemeral about it.
Magic. Everyday MAGIC
Jimmy grinned. 'If my closet has skeletons.' He thought, 'It's only fair that my pockets hold magic.'
Jimmy snatched up more fire from the stove again. Braved the hard Openness again for one — one minute ten... twenty... One minute twenty seconds!
He breathed raggedly and held himself up on the counter afterwards, looking down at the new card now clenched tightly in his fist.
This one was blue like a nova and washed in red-gold like the sunset. Glowing curves swirled over its surface and glyphs that seemed to burn in his eyes dotted it like stars.
There was something different about this card, Jimmy thought. Special. It's name burned in his mind just a bit brighter than the others did.
A Little Bit of Magic — Not much. Just a touch
And something about those words made Jimmy feel like it was winking at him.
So the Itch could do emojis now.
Jimmy grinned hard enough that his cheeks hurt.
Magic. It was beautiful.
And now for the final event!
Jimmy turned to his cards containing well seasoned eggs who's runny part of the yolk had never had any time to solidify and toast frozen in time, with enough butter that it ran down the sides.
"Now what do you make of this, Itch?" And he flickered them all back into existence together and then re-carded them into an it.
Plate of Poorly Made Breakfast hovered above his fingertips.
"No one likes a critic. I am going to enjoy thi —"
And that was when he heard his mother coming down the stairs.
Jimmy's heart thudded. This was really early! He should have had — Jimmy looked around — Hours!.
Cards fluttered around and above him. They hung suspended in the air next to the fridge and over the counter-tops and lay on the counter-tops....
And the steps were getting closer. He moved. 'Get back here!'
Like a flood, they flew back, flickering into his pockets and a few up his sleeve just as...
"Morning Babe."
It was... technically, Jimmy supposed, looking in askance at the [4:37 AM] blinking on the oven.
His mother yawned sleepily as she entered. "Something smells good. Whatcha making?"
"Oh...Heh. Heh... About that..." Jimmy pocketed the card a tad sullenly. 'Tomorrow' he promised it. "Eggs."
His mother eyed him suspiciously, and then the kitchen with too clean and uncluttered counters. "Uhuh."
"But I need more." Jimmy continued seriously. And quickly went to work pulling out pans and eggs and oil and spices and cluttering up the uncluttered counter-space.
This was far more than his mother was willing to engage with pre-coffee this early in the morning. "Ok Babe." She muttered, and sleepily shuffled over to the coffee maker and then to the Azure Mirror on the wall.
Jimmy sighed... Time for the morning news update of horror.
'What has Legion done now?' Jimmy thought sullenly. 'Up next — How Amaterasu crisp fried another team of feds.'
Or would it be about that poor Super from Wednesday who defended herself against that human trafficker? 'Self de-fence or self of-fence. Up next...' Jimmy hunched his shoulders, and cracked eggs into the pan sullenly.
But... it didn't come.
"Babe."
Jimmy looked back. His mother had frozen.
"Babe, come here. Oh my god...."
That... that wasn't his mother's usual reaction.
Jimmy rushed over. That wasn't even his mother's usual tone... tone of... voice....
Jimmy stared at the screen. His mother stared at the screen.
With a subtly trembling voice his mother said "Play", and words that were not vitriol or horror filled the air.
It was grandeur and light and a fiery girl. An officer shaking hands with a Hero. Victims saved from traffickers. Good trouncing Evil.
And slowly Jimmy felt his mother's arm reach around his shoulders and pull him into a one armed hug.
MAGIC. And something else.... Something about how this girl stood.
She was hunched, obviously hurt. But not bowed.
She stood when she gave Officer Fillmore her statement. She stood when the EMTs gingerly asked her if she needed medical treatment — and refused.
She stood even though her legs quivered in exhaustion underneath her and she swayed almost imperceptibly on her feet.
Through it all, she stood and her eyes blazed in the camera. Her tiara burned like a circlet of such glory he felt it through the screen and when she said the word Hero it clicked, like she'd stated an immutable fact of the universe. She. Was a Hero.
'Something else.... Something Different. Special.' And he thought, that maybe... maybe — if he were somehow able to catch this instantaneous moment in a flicker of time... Maybe it would say something like...
LIGHT — And Much MUCH More Than There Was Before
LIGHT.
"Oh my —" Jimmy breathed. And he realized his eyes were burning.