How can one be brought to explain a thing so outlandish and far from reality that it is immediately scoffed and discarded by anyone who listens? How can knowledge of something everyone knows to be fake in fact be made truth? All things considered… who would want to? Sometimes… there are those special secrets, those dark wonders that no one ever desires to share. They are our treasures, and how we amass them.
Arleen considered this lecture often. One her older brother had gone over with her. Several times in fact. Braden was too smart, he always knew just how to think in any situation. His next words snag in her mind as she gathered up her books into a small book bag. She repeated them, having memorized the whole speech from the sheer repetition of which she’d heard it.
“We are special people, my sister. We live in a day that cannot be disturbed, too fragile in its path for those like us to interfere. We live in the shadows, observing with silent scrutiny. We have a grand gift, and to squander it in selfishness and pettiness makes us no greater than simple fools. We are of mind and body better than such squabbles. We must think like our neighbor, and welcome them into our home so we too may be made friends. This is our way, this is my vow.”
The thought of him ranting it off in that baritone mumble made the young sophomore giggle to herself. Braden was off on one of his week-long wanders. She had to say his daily speech to herself just to feel normal enough to leave the house. He’d said the same thing to her every morning since before she could remember. True, it was not normal to be raised by one’s brother, but she could never complain. Braden had been everything she had ever needed. A father at first, then a brother, now a friend. Not hearing his voice still made her uncomfortable, but such feelings would pass.
With a wave of her hand there was a quick spark of light that passed between her fingertips as the door to her room opened and she stepped out, only for it to follow and click shut behind. The inside of the house was acting up a little since its master was away. A hundred staircases had grown where there should only be one… most of them not going anywhere, though there were sometimes exceptions. Not always pleasant ones. Arleen reached to the belt of her pants and lifted the metal ring, going through the stone runes before finding the guidance charm. It glowed for a moment before the proper stairway to the outside was before her.
The spells Braden had woven into his home had become a web of lines so interconnecting it resembled a spider’s web. At one time Arleen found her brother’s power intimidating, but now it was a comfort knowing he was such an adept. The blood of such a powerful sorcerer flowed through her veins too, young as she was. One day too she would be a legend. That day dreamed of with great anticipation.
Though… until then… it was best she finish college. Being only twenty years old gave the young lady as much to learn about herself as the world around. Braden made it clear that knowledge was a sword sharpened by quantity. The more one has, the deeper it could be struck. This wasn’t lost on the young Arleen, though she found sitting for hours perusing musty books a bit out of her attention range. She preferred to learn amongst the world as she trained in her magic. While skeptical at first, Braden was finally swayed in totality when he’d watched his baby sister walk the aisle in cap and gown to receive her high school diploma.
Fond memories seemed to arise in greater frequency when they were the only company Arleen had in an empty house. This was not lost on her as she swept her hand through the air, glowing letters left in the wake of her fingers as the front door appeared in the endless stone wall before her at the end of the upside-down stairs. It opened for her, and she walked out into the perfectly quaint suburban neighborhood.
It was just a few quick strides over the grass to her car parked on the side of the road. She jumped down into the plush leather seat and wiggled into comfort. She ran her hands over the beautiful dashboard of the black R8. It had begun its days as a barely running hunk of rust loner she’d found thrown to the wayside. Arleen had brought it home, and spent well over a month going through Audi blueprints and old grimoires in studying transmogrification. This was the final result, her first complete project without even a hint of help from Braden. Just starting the engine made her grin, it purred like a big cat just ready to pounce. Oh the leers she received, and all so very worth the effort she had put into her pride and joy.
It was, in truth, just another day for Arleen though. Spending too much time at a coffee shop getting hit on by the shameless idiots always made her run a little late. She never had any issue getting to school when she was supposed to, not with such a beast at her disposal for transportation. But when on campus… she still had to run while in public.
She had to jog all the way to Monroe Hall from the parking garage, cursing to herself for not giving the necessary ten minutes extra to make it in time. Dr. Mann’s English class was not something to miss, or even be a few minutes late for. He was a very friendly professor, loved to help his students whenever he could… but a ruthless grader and was recorded in campus lore as using any and all information in his lectures on sudden tests and quizzes. If even a few minutes were missed, vital information would be lost.
The temptation to cast the smallest of placement spells always came up, immediately banished by the thought of Braden’s wrath. The old-fashioned way was always right… even in light of grades. Reaching the proper door an out-of-breath Arleen pushed inside and took her seat in the back to let her heart stop threatening to beat out of her chest. The professor had just turned on his projector, the beginning of the lecture, and was preparing a slide. “So moving to the law of protagonist to antagonist is as simple as the conflict between them, defining the piece as a whole. The introduction of either must be defined or the deeper meaning is already lost.” Dr. Mann’s eyes wandered to the tardy girl in the back and gave his funny-looking eyebrow raise, though no words about such lateness came out. His grin told her she was safe, it had never been in his nature that she knew of to embarrass students. Slightly late was better than walking into the middle of a class.
Arleen set her notebook on the armrest of her chair and readied a pencil. There was something more personal about writing by hand. Perhaps the knowing it was done manually or the carpel tunnel it induced, such things unique to the individual. As she took her notes, Arleen felt something stir in her stomach. She had been feeling a little under the weather since waking up, but now there was an honest pain in her belly. She ignored it, needing to concentrate.
By the time Dr. Mann was reaching the conclusion of his discussion on Hamlet, Arleen could barely stay still. Her stomach was on fire, the skin of her belly and chest crawling. She had always loved Shakespeare, but there was no enjoying her professor’s opinion on the matter as the pain within was rapidly approaching agony. That was it, Arleen had to excuse herself silently and rush to the door.
Barging into the restroom might have been a startling slam had there been anyone else inside. Falling to her knees, Arleen wrapped her arms around her stomach and grimaced. She felt like she was going to explode, the desperate need to throw up only made worse by the lack of ability. She felt the tingling shoot through her skin, and she watched through one barely open eye as sparks of light and cracks of electricity shot off her fingers and seeped from her legs across the floor.
Braden’s barrier ward. The spell he’d woven into her soul-rune that worked a bit like the shields on a sci-fi show… only with magic. He’d said they would block out spells someone might try to cast. Only issue was it was powered by her own magic. If there was too much stress, a complicated spell could overpower it. Curiosity was completely overridden by pain as Arleen could no longer contain herself. She screamed loudly as lightning tore out from her body. Arcs of bright light blasted the mirrors, destroying the overhead lights and sent the stalls flying apart as a maelstrom of raw magical fury ripped the room to shreds.
The whole of the restroom was plunged into inky darkness. For a few moments there was nothing but black before the overhead lights simply popped back on. The entire room was untouched, not even a fleck of broken glass. The only difference now is it was completely devoid of life.
Arleen was gone.