Lydia was miserable. The seventeen year old sat in silence, staring at a map that hung on the wall at the front of her geography class. She ran her fingers through her long, black hair and sighed as loudly as she could. The small desk, at which she sat, felt absolutely suffocating.
"Yes, Miss Johnson," her teacher, Mr. Mathews replied without looking up from the papers he was grading, at his own desk. "I know you hate this, and I know you know I hate this. Does that sigh mean you're ready to have an adult conversation about your behavior?"
"What behavior?" Lydia replied, not bothering to hide her dislike for her teacher. "I was late for your class."
"For the eighth time..."
"It wasn't my fault!" Lydia snapped. "I swear I leave with plenty of time, I just end up being late... somehow."
"I’m sure," Mr. Mathews stated, bearing a generous amount of sarcasm. After a moment of silence, it became clear to Lydia that he was no longer interested in speaking, nor was he ready to let her go home. She sighed dramatically once more, and resigned by resting her elbows on her desk and burying her mocha-toned face in her hands. Another hour and Lydia would be free. She just had to be patient.
Lydia didn't wait to be excused once her time was up. As quickly as she could, she picked up her bag and stepped lively out of the class and out of her school. It was an older, indoor Highschool, and it felt stale to Lydia. She took great joy leaving it to shrink in the distance as she walked home.
Lydia took her normal route home, walking down the quiet streets of a lazy suburb. The sound of her footsteps against the cement sidewalk were in competition with nothing but the songs of birds and the hum of a distant lawnmower.
After a moment Lydia, stopped walking. She felt odd and inexplicably uncomfortable. She looked around her and saw nothing, but still had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched.
With a hesitant step, Lydia continued to walk. She periodically glanced from side to side, unable to shake her disquieting sense.
Suddenly, a new sound reached her ears. It began as a hiss, like twisting wind, but soon morphed into heavy and deliberate footfalls. It became immediately apparent that someone was following her. Mustering all of her courage, Lydia turned quickly to see who it was.
A man stood behind her, about fifty feet away. He had a completely bald head, with white skin that looked relatively untouched by the sun. His face seemed to be that of a man in his forties, though he looked drawn, tired, and worn.
The man's clothes were not normal, and didn't seem to belong to any identifiable place or time. His shirt was black with grey, vertical stripes, and it was somewhere between a medieval, belted tunic and a turtleneck; his collar hid all but his head. His sleeves billowed at his forearms. His pants were straight, grey denim, and Lydia saw that they were covering a very long, black, pair of leather boots. Lydia recoiled slightly as the man's piercing, glacier-blue eyes remained fix in a stare, as he drew closer and closer.
Without a second thought, Lydia broke into a sprint. Her mind raced as her feet pounded against the pavement. Should she go home? Should she call the police? Lydia didn't know what to do. She rounded a corner and then another, hoping to lose her stalker. She looked behind her and saw that the man was nowhere to be seen but, just as she started to feel safer, she stopped, nearly skidding to a halt.
There, not three feet in front of her, was the man. Like magic, he had somehow intercepted Lydia. He wasn't panting, or sweating; he just stood there, placid, wearing an sinister smirk.
"What..." Lydia spoke, trying to catch her breath. "What do you want from me?"
The man simply smiled, made intense, direct eye contact with Lydia, and spoke with a deep British accent: "Everything, my dear..."
"Jack!" a man's voice came from behind Lydia. She turned to see another stranger, just as oddly dressed as Jack. He wore a navy v-neck sweater over a white shirt. The sleeves of the sweater were rolled up and gathered at his elbows. His pants were loose and made of a thick, flat, dark green fabric. They puffed out at the bottom and were tucked into brown leather boots.
The newcomer seemed to be in his forties as well though the lines in his face were an expression of kindness. He had a full head of dirty-blonde hair, and a goatee that matched. All of his hair was cleanly cut.
"Following me now, Hallast?" said Jack, seeming familiar with the other man. "I'm actually hurt that you didn't say hello sooner."
"It's alright," Hallast addressed Lydia directly, "I'll make sure he doesn't follow you anymore... Go."
Lydia didn't wait for a better opportunity; she said nothing as she walked quickly away from both of them. She could feel Jack's eyes watching her as she moved out of sight.
Lydia made it home safely, thankful that there were no more surprises along the way. She kept a hurried pace, even as she climbed the front steps to the two-story, white house, where she lived with her mother.
She knew that her mother was not home, and wouldn't be until later that evening, so Lydia immediately went to her room and locked the door. There she would wait until the sun finally set, and her nerves had finally calmed.
Over and over again, Lydia told herself that the two men she had encountered were random, and would not be able to find her now. Even if following Lydia was deliberate, she surmised, the nicer of the two men seemed to keep the other at bay, well enough. Lydia was finally able to talk herself into a state of feeling secure and calm. After a moment's inner debate, she unlocked her bedroom door and went out to the back yard to get some air. The night air often made her feel better.
She sat down on a bench at the back outer wall of the house, took a deep breath, and exhaled looking up at the stars. To Lydia's delight, the multitude of constellations were bright that night, and the sound of distant crickets filled the air.
"Hey there, little fairy," the low voice of Lydia's mother came from the open back door. 'Little fairy' was her mother's frequent pet name for Lydia. When she was a little girl, Lydia was obsessed with fairies. "Heard you had some trouble in school today."
"You know I don't like it when you call me that..." Lydia replied as her mother stepped out to join her.
She was wearing her work clothes, which was a white blouse, a simple brown vest, and matching formal pants. On the right side of her vest was pinned a brass name tag, featuring her first name only: Jessica. Her chestnut hair was pulled behind her head in a ponytail and pieces had fallen, hanging over her tired, ebony face. Lydia could tell that her mother's day had been a difficult one.
"Don't change the subject," her mother persisted, sitting down next to her daughter. "Baby, what has been going on with you and getting to class on time?"
"I really don't know, mom," Lydia said with a little more attitude than she had intended. She stood, nervously. "Look, I keep trying to get there on time and for some reason I just can't. I swear it's not my fault. It's been a hard day. I was in detention forever and then this bald white guy started following me like a creeper, and then he just vanished and reappeared and—"
"Whoa whoa whoa!" interrupted her mother, standing in alarm. "Lydia, what bald white guy?"
"Some creepy guy who dressed like he was at a Renaissance fair," Lydia said, turning back toward her mother. There was a look of panic on her mother's face.
"Did you get his name?" Jessica asked, swallowing her words as if she were afraid to ask.
"Yeah, actually," replied Lydia. "His name was—"
"Clever Jack," came the voice of the stanger as he suddenly emerged from the darkness at the far end of the yard. "'Ello, Jess."
"You get the hell out of here!" Lydia watched her mother visibly shake with rage as she spoke to Jack.
"You know him?!" Lydia asked, feeling confused and more than slightly panicked.
"Your mother and I go way back," Jack answered, stepping slowly closer to them as Jessica moved in front of Lydia, taking a protective stance. "I'm actually a little hurt that I haven't come up in conversation, before now. We were dear old friends."
"My friend was a good man," Lydia's mother spat at Jack, "not the monster you became!"
"Oh come, now," Jack continued, despite her, "I don't want to hurt anyone. All I want is to help your daughter get better at time management."
"I told you to leave!" cried Jessica. Her rage was still palpable as Jack stopped a foot in front of Lydia and her mother.
"And how WILL you make me?"
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Out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning materialized in a flash, from behind the Jack. Just as quickly, Jack turned as strange glowing, purple symbols appeared in mid-air, around him, while he raised his hands. The symbols seemed to create some kind of barrier, which protected Jack from the lightning.
Lydia felt like she could pass out. She could not, in her mind, justify or comprehend what had just happened. She watched as Hallast, the man who had earlier saved her from Jack, stepped into view, appearing from nowhere. He waved his hands while strange crossing and looping lines appeared around him, golden and glowing. Lettering that was foreign to Lydia popped into existence, too. All of it seemed to be made of some kind of energy.
Jack immediately responded to Hallast, manifesting dark circles around himself, which grew into clouds of black. The dark clouds rushed toward Hallast but were quickly destroyed by beams of light coming from Hallast's hands. Three golden, upward pointing triangles appeared around Jack. He waved his right hand upward, splaying his fingers toward the sky, and three purple triangles, facing the opposite direction appeared around him. There was a sudden explosion of fire, water, and steam as the world disappeared into a silent fog.
Once the steam had cleared a little, Lydia watched, wide-eyed, as the two men stood, staring each other down. Both of them were standing very still, while neither appeared to be even slightly winded by the fight.
"I have to say I'm disappointed," Jack finally said. "When I fight you, I expect the Stormcaller. Those were the elemental tricks of the boy I once knew."
"I'm not here to hurt you," Hallast stated plainly. "Take the hint and leave."
"You couldn't make me before," Jack spat menacingly, "and you can't now."
Lydia watched in terror as Jack began waving his hands in the air, spawning a set of strange crooked letters, in the same glowing purple energy. Though she didn't know what they meant, the sight of the symbols sent shivers down Lydia's spine. Hallast seemed alarmed by them too.
"Isa Gar!" Hallast yelled, suddenly. A flash of blue flew through the air ripping through the dark letters, and straight into Jack's hand, which was now frozen and shaking.
Abandoning using the incapacitated hand, Jack gritted his teeth and tried to continue his work with the other. Hallast did not allow this, drawing a series of intersecting lines and dots, in golden energy. He pulled the energy into a ball with his right hand and threw it at Jack.
In another flash, Jack's letters were gone.
"Not fast enough, Jack," Hallast taunted his opponent. "You can't win."
Jack looked down at his shaking, frigid hand with a furious sneer. He shot a venomous glare at Hallast, and finally ran into the dark, vanishing.
All was silent. Hallast continued to stare at the spot where Jack had vanished, perhaps watching to make sure he didn't return.
"Hallast?" Lydia's mother broke the silence. Hallast turned, seeming almost surprised to hear his own name. A smile slowly grew on his face.
"Jess," he acknowledged her in a familiar tone. "It's been so long... I'm sorry to turn up like this. Are you two okay?"
"We're fine," Lydia's mother replied, "just a little shaken. Do you know what Jack is doing here?"
"I can only guess," Hallast replied gravely, turning back to face the spot where Jack had vanished.
"Guys," Lydia interrupted, folding her arms nervously. "Can we maybe take this conversation inside, please?"
"Yeah," replied Jessica, looking around with her guard still clearly up. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."
The three walked through a set of white french doors that lead directly from the back yard to the kitchen. Within, there was a small table, which accommodated them all easily. Once they were all seated, Jessica cleared her throat and leaned in to begin the conversation.
"Sweetheart," she began, keeping a very ginger tone while addressing her daughter, "This may be very hard to understand, but I want you to try to keep an open mind about what we're going to tell you."
"I mean," Lydia replied without missing a beat, "it will be hard to top what I just saw out there... whatever that was."
"She sounds open," Hallast added to the conversation with a smirk, sitting back in his chair slightly.
"Well to start," Jessica began, glancing down nervously, "this is my very dear friend, Hallast Etalie. To other sorcerers he is know as Hallast Stormcaller." Lydia snorted a laugh when she heard his title. Jessica looked at her, wide-eyed, as if surprised by her daughter's sudden rudeness. Hallast just smiled wider at her reaction, amused by the young woman.
"Sorry," Lydia corrected herself, immediately. "It's just... Well, that name's a little over the top, don't you think?"
"I didn't pick it," Hallast answered without commitment.
"Hallast, Jack, and I used to study magic together," Jessica continued despite her daughter. "We all have a complicated history... But, the important thing you need to know is that, in a former life I was a sorcerer."
"You mean," Lydia said, struggling to wrap her head around what she was being told, "you can do the things I saw outside? Mom, that's amazing!"
"I could once, yes..." Jessica's eyes seemed to sadden. "But I can't anymore, baby." Lydia had never seen her mother look as sad as she did when she said those words. Magic must have meant a great deal to Jessica.
"That was also Jack's fault," Hallast elaborated, adopting a darker expression. "Speaking of which: Did you recognize any of the symbols he was using, Jess?" Jessica shook her head, staring into space as she thought about it.
"No," she finally said. "It's been so long, anyway. I wouldn't know a thorn from the symbol of Jupiter... Hallast I need to ask you for a favor."
"For you," Hallast replied, "anything." There was an odd tenderness in Hallast's voice. Lydia couldn't help but assume the two had been extremely close.
"I want you to teach Lydia magic," Jessica requested, plainly. There was a short, stunned silence between all three, sitting at the table. Lydia felt her heart flutter with a mix of excitement and terror. The idea of learning magic was interesting, but being volunteered with so little conversation about it scared her.
"Why?" Hallast finally asked.
"Because it's magic, and awesome," Lydia couldn't help but blurt out.
"If Jack wants Lydia, he must know something we don't know," Jessica began to reason. "We teach her magic, see what she can do, and level the playing field."
"I don't know," Hallast said, giving Lydia a skeptical look from across the table. "I can already tell she's not like you, Jess."
"Excuse me?" Lydia said, more than slightly stung by his words. Hallast just shrugged, unphased by his own insensitive bluntness.
"You're right," Jessica replied with a smile, "She's more of a dreamer, like you were, once upon a time."
Hallast smirked at the sentiment, seeming amused. He stroked his goatee and hummed contemplatively. No one spoke, at the table for a long time. He scratched his head and sighed, wearing a pained expression. Lydia saw that he was struggling with something internally.
"Look," he finally said, "it's been a long night; let's just sleep on this for now. I will stick around for a couple of days, if that's okay. I'll keep an eye on things, while we figure this out."
"Please do," Jessica said, seeming somewhat relieved by the idea. "We have an extra bedroom."
So it was decided that Hallast would stay with the Johnson family. Jessica helped Hallast get settled while Lydia got ready for bed.
Though she desperately tried, Lydia could not sleep at all. What she had seen changed her entire perception of reality. Magic existed and she could learn it. Also, knowing that someone so unbelievably powerful was after her made Lydia's stomach churn. Unable to sleep, Lydia went to her bedroom window and opened it to get some air. The chilling breeze of the evening rushed in, and refreshed Lydia, as she sat on the sill.
"You know something, Jess," Lydia heard the faint voice of Hallast from the yard outside. "I can see it in your eyes. Why is Jack interested in your daughter?"
"I honestly don't know," replied the voice of Lydia's mother. "But, Jack said something that makes me think..."
"What was it?"
"He said," Jessica hesitated, "that he wanted to help her with time management." A long thoughtful silence followed this.
Though Lydia couldn't see either of them, she could tell that the two were on the same page. They both now knew something she didn't and it made her feel uneasy.
"If he thinks she's a-" Hallast began but didn't finish.
"I'm scared for her, Hallast..."