What Luke didn’t know, however, was that his mother wasn’t absent because of her work. She was engaged in something far more significant to Luke's future. Rebecca and Sean were working together, in tandem across two worlds, to prepare him for his transfer to Neverworld.
In the Netherworld, Sean was carefully dismantling the layers of magic that had been placed around the pocket world. The process was slow, deliberate, each rune he unraveled bringing them closer to the moment that would pull Luke from his world into this one using the mark on his soul as an anchor to pull him through to Neverworld. The magic wasn’t meant to be tampered with. It had been designed to protect Luke from the forces that sought to claim him, but Sean knew the time had come for the magic to be undone.
It took more control than he had thought previously. Bryan did an incredible job at shaping the protections that were in place. Sean felt almost bad for destroying such intricate work. Even after so long Bryan still surprised him. Concentrating further he strained his control of essence and unraveled the runes further.
Within Lukes world Rebecca was unraveling the protections that were sealed within her very own Soul. Rebecca had used her body as a medium to add another layer of protection to the pocket world. Bryan had created the outside and she had used her own soul to protect from the inside. She knew that Luke wouldn’t understand any of what was going on and she wanted to be there for him while he still had hours of normal life, but this was necessary. As Sean was deconstructing the runic magic that sealed the world from Neverworld, she deconstructed her own protections and little by little let in more essence establishing a bridge that Luke would be pulled through.
She knew this might affect her son but she needed to do it. She felt the essence start circulating the world and it even gave her a little jolt of power, yet it was a trickle compared to what she needed to ever regain her full strength. She knew that when Luke was pulled through and the protections were reduced it would cause a cascading event bringing the world crumbling down with Rebecca unfortunately trapped. A tear fell down her face not for her own death to come but for what she was bringing Luke into unwillingly.
—
The matches seemed to fly by. Wins were being exchanged back and forth. As Polk would pull ahead, Claremont High would win the next. After the 189 weight class match started Luke began to prepare. Stretching out in the back, he felt none of the pain from earlier. He thought that maybe there would be some residual pain but there was nothing. He actually began to feel refreshed, and even more excited for the coming match.
“And now one of the captains of the Polk High wrestling team, with an undefeated record, Luke Xavier, will wrestle against Fredric Killgore in the 220-pound weight class”! The announcers spoke over those in attendance. This was the most anticipated match of the night. One individual would retain their undefeated record and one would lose. There was the chance of a draw but very unlikely at this weight class.
Luke ran to the middle table signaling that he was prepped and ready to go to the judges and team managers keeping track of points, as well as wins and losses. Lining up on the line opposite his opponent he locked eyes with Killgore. They were both equal in terms of muscle, but Killgore had a height advantage, and his eyes bore into Luke like daggers. This man was a completely different one than the one he had met in weigh-ins.There was confidence in his stance. Luke knew that he hadn’t been idle during warm ups and got himself as primed as he could. No doubt seeing Luke have his little episode it was as if Killgore just had to show up in his mind and the win was his.
The whistle rang, and Killgore lunged forward hoping to catch Luke off guard. Luke managed to lunge into the takedown Killgore was trying, catching his opponent's weight and wrapping his arms around his body, tucking his head under his arm to try and gain the upper hand. With Killgore still attempting to grab one of his legs as he was in a precarious situation and the only hope was to grab Lukes leg and hope to pull him off balance. Luke instead used the advantage he had with his hands locked around the torso and Killgore being slightly lower; he lifted his opponent's arm and performed a duck-under, shifting his body under the arm and around the back of Killgore. Luke grabbed him around the waist, extending, lifting, and began to pivot to throw Killgore to the ground with all the force he could muster in the hope to take the large man down. Luke however, overestimated his strength, or maybe he was as strong as he previously thought because as he lifted he felt little to no resistance like a paperweight and Killgore went flying through the air dangerously fast towards the ground. Luke slammed him hard into the mat, and what followed was a loud audible snapping and cracking noise. The whole gym who was previously shouting and getting excited instantly became quiet. Luke quickly got up and backed away to see what had happened. The adrenaline quickly dissipated and he finally had the chance to see what that one move had done.
Killgore was lying on the ground screaming in agony much like Luke had done over the past week although this was caused by Luke himself, not some unforeseen mystery migraine. Killgore's arm, and leg twisted opposite of how they should have been. Not only that but there was bruising already appearing around his ribs indicating something else was broken.
Luke had never been one to want to hurt someone that bad, but what he saw resonated within him. He should have felt sorry, but for some reason, it felt right like he needed to vent some power he didn't know he had. His body seemingly energized before the fight building over the last few days needing a release. As seconds ticked by immense, sudden exhaustion overtook him.
The screams came next breaking Luke out of his thoughts, and he quickly ran off the mat as the athletic trainers did their best to comfort, and aid Killgore Luke giving them the space they would need.
“Luke, how did you do that”? Ben asked as he broke away from the onlookers to find Luke on the bench seemingly trying to get as far away from the chaos as he could. “What do you mean”? Luke said, trying to not look too concerned as if it was all just a big mistake. “You threw Killgore so fast, and with such ease it looked unnatural. As if he weighed no more than 30 lbs. When he lunged you moved incredibly fast. I didn't know you had moved behind him until he was already on the ground”. Ben said looking at his friend with a little trepidation mixed in with excitement.
“I have been wrestling you for years and you have never been that fast,” Ben stated.
Luke took a minute to think about what couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds. To him it had seemed fast but it also seemed like an average wrestling scenario. He couldn’t have moved that fast, Killgore had managed to try and catch him off guard initially.
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“Honestly I have no idea. I just felt in the zone and everything was just going smoothly, I was just doing what I thought I should”. Luke said, trying to not sound as concerned as he was feeling. The screams of his opponent still rang throughout the gym as the ambulance had just arrived and first responders were helping hoist Killgore onto a stretcher, the athletic trainers doing all they could for him at that point.
Luke knew he had done what he had practiced a thousand times, but Killgore was a state champion, and he had beaten him so easily. He thought there would have been even a little competition. He replayed the match over and over again as he sat in his chair for the remainder of the night. His coach was the only one who came up to him throughout the remainder of the night, his teammates understanding that he needed a little space. His coach, only telling him to tell him it happens and that he shouldn’t beat himself up too much about it. Things happen and this wasn’t a sport where others don't occasionally get hurt.
The rest of the matches went without incident. Polk took the win for the night and with Killgore in the hospital, there wasn’t much morale from the opposing team resulting in easy wins. Everything seemed to come to a close for the night fast as Luke was lost in his thoughts about how he could have hurt someone so badly. He had been wrestling for a long time, seen broken arms, and occasionally other small injuries but nothing as extreme as what he had caused. That thought permeated more and more of his mind. That he did it so easily.
Before he knew it, Luke was already walking home. He had brushed off the congratulations and appreciation of those while leaving the gym. He had learned a little later as he walked home from a phone call with Ben that Killgore's wrist, arm, leg, and shoulder were all broken in various locations. As well as cracking four of his ribs. They at the hospital had asked if he had been hit by a car. Ben had friends at the rival school and was able to find all of this out, not that it gave Luke any piece of mind. He had initially hesitated to tell Luke but Luke thanked him for the information nonetheless.
The night air was crisp as Luke went down the familiar street leading to his house. The once comforting sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement now felt distant and hollow the more he let his mind wander. He didn’t even notice how the streetlights flickered above him or how the cool breeze tugged at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. His mind was elsewhere, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts he couldn’t understand.
There was the mark on his chest. He still couldn’t get over how it had changed right before the wrestling match. The pain had been excruciating like fire spreading from his heart outward, and when it finally stopped, it felt as if his entire body had been reset. But the mark… it was darker now, more distinct, like an imprint burned into his flesh. It felt wrong as if it was never supposed to be there, yet it felt right at the same time, an unsettling feeling that gnawed at his gut. Something almost felt like it was calling to him. Then there was the match with Killgore. The speed, the power, the way he had thrown his opponent so effortlessly, it didn’t make sense. The week had started off in such a strange way, then got normal. He thought the worst was behind him and he knew he needed to find out what was wrong with him before he kept passing out or hurting even more people.
He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter as he got home and made his way down the hall. His mother’s room was at the end, and the door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open without thinking, expecting to find her on the bed, exhausted from another long shift at the hospital. Instead, the room was empty. A small note sat on her pillow. Luke picked it up, unfolding it slowly as if he already knew what it would say.
Luke,
I’m sorry I missed your match tonight. I will be home shortly. I had something incredibly important to attend to. Get cleaned up and I am sure I will be back when you are finished. I have something I need to tell you.
Luke folded the note back up, his stomach sinking. He wasn’t mad—he never was when it came to his mom. But the strange feeling in his chest, the gnawing unease that had been building for days now, wouldn’t leave him. His mom was always working, always saving lives, but something about this felt different. There were too many things going wrong or feeling different today. Maybe she somehow knew what was going on with him, maybe it was genetic from his fathers side. With a sigh, he turned away from the room, heading for the bathroom to wash off the sweat from the match. Maybe even washing the thoughts from his addled brain as well. The bathroom light flickered as he flicked the switch on, casting shadows across the small space.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face and eyes were tired, and his body felt heavy like he’d just run a marathon. But beneath the exhaustion, there was something else—something deep within his eyes, a flicker of something that he couldn’t quite place. As he turned the faucet on and splashed cold water on his face, his mind wandered again to the mark. The one that now burned like a brand on his skin. He’d tried to ignore it, but it seemed to pulse with life as if it had a mind of its own.“Luke?” The voice came from the outside of the bathroom. He turned around quickly, his heart jumping into his throat. His mom stood there, looking concerned, though there was a hint of something else in her expression. “You don't look the best hun, why don't you get cleaned up and then head downstairs I want to talk with you a bit about your dad and probably why you look in the state you do. I have some of the answers you might be looking for.” She didn’t say anything more, just walked down the stairs allowing Luke to mull over what she just said.
Luke stood frozen in place, the echo of his mother's words lingering in the air like a riddle he wasn’t sure he was ready to solve. Answers. The word pulsed in his mind, just like the mark on his skin. Was this the moment he'd been waiting for? The one where everything started to make sense? Or was he about to step deeper into a world that he wasn’t prepared to face? He glanced back at his reflection, wondering if his mom could somehow see through him. Could she tell what he was feeling? Could she tell that the mark was more than just a physical thing, that it was somehow tied to everything that had been happening since that strange dream?
He wiped his damp hands on his jeans, the cold water still prickling his skin. The fatigue in his body seemed to have worsened, and his head felt heavy like it was filled with too many thoughts trying to escape all at once. The match, the dream, the mark, and now his mom's cryptic offer to explain it all, it was all too much. But something inside of him, some part that he didn’t fully understand yet, told him that this was the moment. The moment he had no choice but to confront whatever was coming next. Slowly, he turned off the faucet, took a deep breath, and started the shower. He cleaned up, threw on some comfortable clothes, and walked down the stairs finally looking forward to having some modicum of answers to explain how this week was going.
He entered the kitchen to find his mom fumbling with her tea bag in the tea she must have made while Luke cleaned up. “Mom, are you okay?” Slowly walking around the table so he could look at her in full. He could see unwashed tears staining her cheeks and knew this must be more serious than he thought. He slowly slid the chair opposite of her out of its spot and sat down. Looking at her like this made him feel more fear than hope. He wanted answers but he did not want those answers to bring such sadness to his mom. She looked up from her cup taking him into her gaze. He saw something there, something more than he had seen before. He almost was afraid she had heard about his match and was disappointed in him. However, she promised answers and knew this wouldn’t be about the match. She took a deep breath and finally spoke, "Son, we don't have much time, soon you to leave this world, but know I love you with every part of my soul.”