Chapter Ten

Battle Magic

I usually wake up to a gentle shake from my mother or father. Even on the weekends, they would still give me that light shake signifying it was time to wake up and start a new day. Granted, sometimes they would both be busy, and I would wake up on my own. Wich wasn't something that would usually frighten me, but today when I woke up, something felt off. Neither my mother nor father was by my side to wake me.

Gradually I slipped out of the warm embrace of the blankets on my bed that I had the audacity to call bed sheets. In a manner that wasn't exactly stealthy, but not in a graceless way that was bound to make a lot of noise, I stepped down from my bed to the floor. All of a sudden, I was extremely aware of my surroundings. I could feel the permeating cold of the wooden planks under my feet. I could feel the rustle of my pants around the bottom halves of my legs; the only thing missing was sound.

It was like someone had turned down the volume of the things happening outside of my body... Or was it that they had just turned down the noise on the entire world itself? The one thing I could hear was the blood pumping behind my temples, the subtle sound of my joints moving, and the subtle pops that come from them after a night's rest.

Thinking back on it, there was one other time that this had happened, except it wasn't here on Arak. It was back on Earth. I had woken up in a similar manner. I was seventeen, almost eighteen, at the time, so I usually woke up to an alarm that played one of my favorite rock songs. It wasn't so loud that it would scare me awake. Still, it was enough that I would wake up and stay awake, except this day I woke up well before my alarm to the same feeling of being hyperaware of my surroundings and the defining sound of blood pumping in my head.

On Earth, that feeling only lasted for a few minutes while I began to get ready for the day. I had gotten out of my bed and made my way to the kitchen for a nice warm cup of coffee and something to eat for breakfast. That morning while I was initially planning to only make some food for myself, I decided that I would also make some pancaked for the rest of my family, seeing that it was the weekend and we were looking forward to spending some family time together.

I was always quite a good cook, ranging from making things for dinner, lunch, and breakfast to making weird side dishes. But that day. That day I think I made the best blueberry pancakes that I had ever made. The inside was perfect. It was the correct amount of fluffy without any burn on the outside. Even the blueberry had been cooked perfectly, not too soft where they felt like eating mush, but not too stiff where it was like you were eating a normal blueberry. It will be a meal that I will never forget, from the way it tasted to our conversations while the four of us were eating. There were two reasons for this, the most important being what happened after the meal was finished. My parents and brother had left the house for a shopping trip to buy my little brother some new shoes.

It seemed like it would be a normal forty-five minute shopping trip. A quick trip up to the local shoe store. Even after they left, all had seemed normal up until some point. I had been straightening up my room when all of a sudden, I felt off. It wasn't some crazy feeling where I immediately knew what had happened. It was just a small inkling in the back of my mind. After around an hour had passed, the feeling was getting slightly worse, and I wasn't growing concerned per se, but it was odd that my parents and brother weren't home yet. After all, the store they were going to was only around ten minutes away from the house, and they couldn't have spent that long looking for one pair of shoes.

It wasn't till around two hours later when I had woken up from a nap to knocking on my front door, that I realized how off it was that they were still away from the house. Gradually I made my way up off the couch, feeling the cold embrace of the floor on my feet for the second time today.

Gracelessly I made my way to the door, still sluggish from my early morning nap. I tried to peek through the warped glass of the door while I was walking to it, thinking of who would be visiting at nine o'clock in the morning, not to mention it was a Sunday, that's supposed to be the lazy day of the weekend where you sit around and feel bad because you 'wasted the day.'

Realizing that there was no hope of recognizing the person on the other side of the glass and finally making it to the door, I flicked open the large bronze deadbolt and opened the door only to be greeted by a police officer holding his cap above his heart.

Seeing the officer, my heart skip a beat even though I had done nothing wrong. I was curious but also scared why there was a police officer at my house, but before I could even think of a question to ask or pleasantries to exchange, the officer spoke.

In a somber tone, the officer said, "Hello is it safe to assume that you are mister Josh Willtek?"

Confused and slightly scared, I responded, "Uhmm ye-yeah I'm Josh. Why I didn't do something wrong did I?"

"No, no, you're not in trouble, but you may want to step out to the patio and have a seat on the step or on the bench out here," the officer said in a more constricted tone, almost like he was holding back his emotions.

Still confused and not wanting to disobey a police officer, I made my way to the patio step as he moved back to let me sit down. Before he started talking again, he sat down on the concrete in front of me before saying, "Before I even start, I would like to ask you if you have any close family members in the area outside of your direct family."

I sat there and stared at the officer for a slight moment before answering, wondering why he would need to know that. Disregarding my confusion, I responded to the officer, saying, "I have people like aunts and uncles, but they all live over in Tokyo. My parents moved over to the states before I was born."

Switching from somber to a solid mix of confused and melancholic the officer said, "Well, that definitely complicates things."

Now thoroughly confused, I asked, "How does that 'complicate' things?" stressing the word complicate.

"Well, this is by no means how I planned on this conversation going, and I'm sorry that I have to tell you like this- hell, I'm sorry that I have to tell you this at all, but earlier today at eight thirty-six your parents and what appears to be you little brother were killed in a motor vehicle accident alongside two others in the car that was responsible for the collision."

Snapping back to the present and out of my tragic memories of the day that accompanied my current unease, I dashed to my closet to put on clothes as quickly as possible. If the feeling that I had right now served as some warning like it had back on Earth, I needed to make sure my parents were ok.

I couldn't bear it. I couldn't let it happen again. I needed to make sure that they were ok.

After struggling to put on a proper pair of pants because of the dread creeping its way into my every move, I sprinted across the hall and burst through my parents' door. I felt the air move out of the way as I slammed the door aside. I felt the slight vibrations the door handle made when I turned it. All of that, but I was still unable to hear the door slam into the wall behind me as I searched my parents' room, hoping that they were still in bed, asleep.

They weren't in there.

I still wasn't sure if them not being in their room made me more or less sure of their safety, but I do know that even if it made me feel that they were safer, it wasn't enough to make me think that they were truly safe.

After realizing that my parents were not in their room, I made my way to my mother's study room only to find it empty again. Like when I rushed into their room, I wasn't sure if it made me happier or stressed me out more that neither of them were in the study.

With only one section of the house left, I bolted out into the living area that shared space with the kitchen to find the couches empty. After not seeing them on the couch, I instantly flicked my head over to the kitchen.

Sitting at the tall stool next to the small countertop peninsula was my father. Behind him was my mother, who was in the middle of walking around the counter, both looking at me with worried eyes.

"Adam! Are you ok? What's wrong? We heard you slam the door. I was just coming back to check on you," my mother said, making her way toward me.

Seeing both of them sent a wave of relief over my entire body. It was like I had just escaped the ensnarement of a heavy fishing net. It felt as if the world had unmuted itself, no longer only hearing the rush of blood in my head. It no longer felt like the air was ten degrees below zero. I felt like I could breathe again.

My mother asked again, "Adam are you ok?"

Finally mustering up enough willpower to respond to my mom, I came up with a convenient story and quietly said, "Yeah, I just had a scary dream."

My dad had made his way over to me as well and rested a hand on the top of my head, gentling ruffling my already disheveled hair before saying, "It's ok, buddy, it was just a scary dream."

"Yeah, it was just a scary dream. It wasn't real. It's ok Adam," my mother added consolingly. "Do you wanna go sit outside with me and your dad?"

"Isn't it cold?" I asked

My father thought for a second before saying, "It isn't bad out, but if you want you can grab a blanket" -he stopped for a second to scratch his head and think before continuing- "Or we could sit in side."

"Can we sit inside?" I said. Sitting outside on the porch would only remind me of when I had first been told about my parents and brother. I don't know if I would be able to relive those memories again for the second time today.

He looked slightly sour at my response, most likely wanting to sit outside, but eventually, my father relented and said, "Sure, we can sit inside bud," which seemed to make my mother happy.

I walked over to the couch with my mom, and we both sat down next to each other. She tilted her head slightly to the left and back, looking at my father, and grinned.

"Look at that. You do have a brain don't you," my mother said sarcastically, mocking my father.

Confused as to why she was berating my father, I peeked up in time to see my father start talking with two mugs in his hand.

"Well I know how stingy you get without your coffee," he shot back jokingly.

It was nice to see my parents bicker and joke over something like having their morning coffee. While it was nice to see and be reminded of what my life could have been like back on Earth, it was also a sour reminder of my life not turning out as it should have.

Gradually I was able to push those thoughts from my head and actually enjoy the time that I was spending with my family. We talked about what we wanted to eat today and for the rest of the week. We talked about our plans and what we would do when my father got home from work early on the few days he would be able to.

It was wonderful to sit down and have a nice conversation with my parents. Granted, I had to act slightly confused on some topics that we went over, trying to 'act my age,' but overall, it was fun.

λ λ λ

Later in the day, around five-thirty, my father asked me if I wanted to go out and train some, seeing as we had a surprising amount of time to spend which didn't come often.

Genuinely wanting to go out and get some exercise in, still briefly remembering what had happened earlier in the day. I was reminded how exercise was always something that I would do to take my mind off of life… well, my first one that is.

Hoping that we would be sparing again, I began to walk down the hall to grab the two of us our wooden swords, but my father stopped me saying, "No swords today. I wanna work on magic and just some regular exercise."

Bummed out by this, I sulked back towards the door, saying, "But I wanted to spar."

"I know. You always want to spar, but today I think you might enjoy it even more," My father muttered with a hint of foreboding, which only served to prove that I was indeed not going to enjoy our 'training' for today.

I stepped out the door only to discover that it was a relatively nice day out, especially for one of the latter days in autumn. It wasn't too cold, but it wasn't so warm that you could wear shorts and a short-sleeve shirt without being uncomfortable. Thinking back on it, it may not have been too bad to sit outside with my parents this morning. Still, at the same time, I didn't want to try to replace the memory of when I was told about my parents with a different memory. While it broke me when I was told, that broken piece that still has never truly healed is a part of what makes me who I am.

I feel like I need that to be a part of who I am, so I can stay the person I am and become the person I want to be in the future. If I replace my old family with Michal and Aleana, I feel that I would lose a part of myself.

With the self-deprecating spiral that I was beginning to fall into, I hoped that Michal would get out here faster. Make me start training sooner, so I can focus on something else.

Surprisingly my wish was granted. Right as I finished my thought, my father stepped through the door, startling me, causing me to let out a small yelp, which sounded utterly pathetic in my five-year-old voice. After hearing that, my dad burst out laughing loudly, exclaiming how funny it was around choked breaths from how hard he was laughing.

After a while of his incessant wheezing, we finally made it out to the middle of our yard, where we finally began our training. The way that he described it made it sound relatively simple, but actually doing it, I felt like that would be a different story.

He described it in a series of sets. First, we would do a run around the village together. It wasn't a marathon by any means, but it was also not a short run. After our run, when we got to the house, my dad began to give me instructions for a new spell, but that new spell also came with a warning.

He was going to teach me my first spell that could properly be used for attacking something, or god forbid, someone else. It was a relatively simple spell. It was a wind blade.

My father taught me the lengthy incantation used to cast wind blade. With it being a longer incantation, I was able to dissect it. By the way, it sounded different parts of the chant affected different parts of the spell. A piece of the incantation was "fast as wind." It was how you affected the speed of the spell. With it being the baseline of the speed for the spell, if you thought hard enough, you could launch it at an even faster pace.

After that small revelation, I thought about bringing it up to my father, asking him if that was truly how casting a proper spell worked, but at the same time, I felt like that wasn't something that a five-year-old was supposed to figure out. Especially not as quick as I did… well, if that even was how a spell worked.

Climbing out of my thoughts, I heard my father uttering more about how this is a dangerous spell that could go wrong quickly.

"... Careful if you don't control it properly it could hurt someone. You have to focus on pushing your mana out into a blade and focus on the shape, not the sharpness when you are first starting. Adam are you even listening to me?"

Worried that he finally noticed I wasn't paying attention, I breathlessly sputtered, "Ye-yeah, I am listening."

"Oh yeah. Then what did I just say?" my father asked, not believing my blatant lie.

Repeating what I had just heard, I said, "Focus on the shape of the blade, not how sharp it is."

"Ok, now what about before that."

Instantly my confidence was doused like water poured on a campfire. He had definitely seen through my lie. "Uhh. Something about being careful?" I said in an unconfident tone.

"Since you WERN'T listening to me, I'm gonna restart, and you will listen this time, do you understand," my father snapped angrily.

"Yes I understand," I sulked.

"Ok, first, the incantation the way it goes is form sh-" my father started before I cut him off, saying, "I already know what the incantation is."

Angary again, my father hissed, "Ok, but don't cut me off like that next time please."

"Alright I'm sorry dad."

"It's ok. The next thing is that the spell is dangerous, and this isn't me being an overprotective dad. This is me already starting to regret teaching you a battle spell, but with the increase of beast attacks happening at the village's gates, I'm getting concerned. So be careful. This spell can cut off limbs if you're not being careful and not protecting yourself with mana.

"That is why we have been doing so much body exercise and mana training without learning spells, as well as the absurd amount of sparring that we have been doing. It is all so you can properly protect yourself with mana. Got that?"

With all of it now coming together in my head, I exclaimed, "That makes so much more sense now. I had asked to learn new spells a bunch, and that is why you always told me that we could do it later."

"Exactly. It's just because I don't want you to get hurt buddy," my father said while he reached over and ruffed up my hair.

My father and I talked about the safety of the spell and other magic-related things for a short while longer before the part that I was really excited for happened. I was finally allowed to cast the wind blade spell.

My father and I had walked more or less to the center of our small yard, where my dad first showed me the spell. It was amazing, it was such a simple spell, but it had so much to it. You could see the wisps of green warp around the light green crescent when you are looking for the mana, but it is completely invisible if you aren't focused on it. It was nothing like how the other elements work. With all of the other elements that I had seen, it was visible when the magic was at work.

You could see the fire with its jagged edges forming into specific shapes, the water flowing into forms that looked as if they were still alive, and the smoothness but roughness of earth magic. Wind magic was in its own category. The only form of magic that I regret not having seen yet was gravity magic. It seems so surreal from the little bits I had heard about.

Then it was my turn. Looking down and around the yard. I looked down at my first ever spellbook, the sun shining off of it giving the whole thing an ethereal silver hue. Continuing to take in my surroundings before I cast the spell, I finally made it down to looking at myself. Looking down at my hands, I saw the ring that my parents had given me for my birthday, still too big to wear on any finger other than my thumb, but still there, giving me the confidence to cast this spell.

Then I did it. I recited the incantation so quiet that I could barely hear it, then the same as when I cast my first spell, wind burst, it was like the instructions were given straight to me through what felt like a telepathic link to something, and finally, it cast. My first ever battle spell was sent flying.