Arcane Chapter 1

“You okay, Jake?”

  I looked up from my lunch and saw Tyler watching me intently. I scratched my head and glanced across the lunchroom.

 “I think he’s going to kill me today,” I said as I watched a big hulk of a boy eating twenty times his body weight in calories in one sitting. Tyler followed my eyes.

 “Why?” He asked, smiling slightly. Tyler was never worried about anything, not even Stupid Steven. Probably because he knew he could beat Steven in a fight, even if the bully did hold several times more mass than Tyler. “Is it because you said he was big enough to collapse a star?”

I groaned, remembering I’d said that. To Steve’s credit, he only looked confused for a few hours before he finally asked someone to explain the insult.

 “No, I think it’s because when he asked to see my homework answers, I told him no, because he couldn’t read them anyway.”

“You really shouldn’t pick on people who can eat you for a snack,” Tyler said, idly chewing on his turkey and cheese sandwich. I had to agree with him on that. My smaller frame made me fast, but in a straight up fight I would be snapped like a twig. Knowing Steven, a straight up fight would never happen though. Even against me he would bring his whole gang like that would prove how great he was. Real big accomplishment, beating up another 15 year old who’s on his own while your gang holds him down.

“Well, no one ever said I was good at keeping myself alive.” I scratched at the mesh collar locked around my neck. No matter what material it was made out of, it was always hot and itchy in the summer months. Why did school have to start in July anyway?

The collar takes some explaining. I’m what you might call a wizard or a sorcerer, but most people call my kind Arcanes. We can do magic, and not the cheap stage magic. Real magic. We can turn water to ash and lead into gold. We can summon demons from beyond the realm of nightmares and kill someone without leaving any forensic evidence. Some of the greatest of us can level mountains and dry up lakes with hardly any difficulty. At least, that’s what I heard. Until about twenty years ago, Arcanes stayed under the radar. Magic was kept secret and away from mortal eyes and ears. It was deemed that regular humans would try and exterminate us because of our power.

A few years before I was born, one powerful Arcane decided to summon a greater demon into our plane of existence. Greater demons can’t be controlled and, as a result, the summoner was killed and the demon ran free in New York City. Arcanes from across the country had worked hard to contain the demon and banish it. By the time they succeeded, our secret was out. The government convened a hearing and fought for the eradication of Arcanes, saying we were too unstable and powerful to be allowed to run free. For months, talks went on and on while war threatened to break out, until a compromise was reached.

All Arcanes would be allowed to live on one condition: their powers could not be used. A material had been found that resisted magic; oricalcum. Magic could not transmute it or affect it. All Arcanes were required to wear collars made of oricalcum, preventing magic from being used.

At birth, all children are tested for magic. If they have magic, they are collared as soon as they reach the age where it becomes viable and can be used, which is about five years old. I’ve worn a collar for ten years. I go in every couple of years to have my collar replaced with a new one. The metallic mesh collar was much more comfortable than all the other solid metal ones I’d worn, but it was still a pain some days.

My parents are both Arcanes as well and are both collared as per the laws. I asked them what it was like to use magic. They both told me not to worry about magic, because I would probably never get to use it. They looked sad when they said it though, like I was missing out on something wonderful they wanted to share.

Unfortunately, Arcanes are blamed for a lot of things. The people who lost family or property in the demon crisis blame us for that. A few people think we are abominations and against the natural order. Many just hate us because we represent power they can’t have. I get a lot of looks from people when they misplace things or when something breaks, like it’s MY fault for having magic.

“Wake up,” Tyler said, snapping his fingers at me to get my attention. I sighed and snapped out of my thoughts, tugging on the collar before going back to my lunch.

“Sorry, just… thinking,” I looked back at Steve and saw him give me the evil eye before getting up and throwing the remains of his lunch in the trash can.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of him. You have more power in your pinky than he ever will in his whole body.” Tyler looked pointedly at my collar. Tyler was cool. Where most would see my collar and shun me, Tyler stuck around. He never seemed to care about me being an Arcane.

“You know I can’t do anything.” It was true. The collar prevented me from using any kind of magic, and it was locked on with a special electronic key only a few people in the Special Containment division of the local police office had. Even if I somehow removed it, the built in sensors would alert the local office, and Arcanes without their collars tended to get shot very quickly and with very large bullets. Tyler looked a bit sad, like he thought he had said the wrong thing. Before he could say more, the school’s PA system chimed; alerting us that lunchtime was over.

“Time for math,” Tyler said cheerfully as he picked up his lunch and threw it away. I followed suit and we both left the cafeteria, him humming somewhat happily and me feeling an odd sense of… something.

School let out a few hours later. I didn’t mind school so much as long as something interesting was being taught. If you could ignore bullies trying to kill you with their stare and some teachers who tolerated you only as far as they legally had to, school could sometimes be kind of fun. Sometimes.

Me and Tyler had just gotten to our lockers and started getting our stuff together to go home when one of the teachers caught up to us. We had stayed back for a bit finishing up a game of cards while we waited in homeroom for school to end, and the hallways were mostly deserted.

“Tyler,” said Mr. Ashburn, glaring at me in what must have been to him covert, but was as obvious as the sun to everyone else. He didn’t like Arcanes, somehow feeling we were a danger to his simple world or some crap like that. He often loudly proclaimed his stance on Arcanes to the other teachers. Conveniently, I always seemed nearby to hear him. “I need your help with some books.” Tyler was a teacher’s assistant, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to get called away after classes to help with menial tasks. Tyler glanced at me and my stomach sank. I couldn’t hang around school after it was let out because I wasn’t a TA, and I knew Tyler was thinking about Steven just like I was.

“It’s okay, go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I slung my backpack as I stood up, fighting down a mixture of embarrassment and fear. I didn’t like that I had to rely on a bodyguard just to leave school, but I also didn’t like getting the crap kicked out of me. I struggled for a minute, knowing Tyler would rather leave with me. He could have technically. TAs could sometimes ask to skip on their job if something else more important required their attention. Unfortunately, Mr. Ashburn would write Tyler up JUST because he was leaving with me, and I didn’t want Tyler lying about needing to leave just so he could protect me from Steven.

“You sure?” Tyler looked hesitant. I half turned down the hallway.

“Yeah, just go do your job,” I said, walking away. “Have a good night Mr. Ashburn.” I swear I could feel him give me the evil eye. Some people REALLY hated Arcanes for some reason. I exited the school from the nearest exit; a side door a lot of students used because it was close to the school bus parking area. The busses were long gone, and I was alone to walk home.

I didn’t get far before I heard the sound of footsteps behind me and saw Steven stepping out from a small shadowed area alongside the school building. I looked over my shoulder and saw four of Steven’s cronies. I looked ahead and saw two more flanking Steven. All seven of them were huge. The only reason they didn’t play football was because they could tear through the body armor like it was paper without even meaning to. I stopped and spun in a circle, looking for an exit. Steven stepped forward and commanded my attention. I shifted my weight, ready to get into a fight I had no hope in hell of winning.

“I heard you could do magic,” Steve said stupidly. His buddies chuckled like this was funny. I huffed and didn’t answer. He knew as well as I did what my collar meant. Steve held a small rock out to me in his enormous fist. “Turn this into gold.”

I stared at him, bewildered. THIS was new. Steve, more than anyone, seemed to fear magic. I had once made him panic when I first met him by muttering nonsense syllables like I was casting a spell. He had been messing with Tyler, trying to strong arm some money from him. The results were hilarious, and had ended with me getting one day of in school suspension, a very good friend, and a very stupid enemy. I tried to work out his angle. I would never have though he would ASK me to do magic, even though we both knew very well it was impossible with my collar. Even without the collar, I had no knowledge to turn anything into gold, and I really didn’t care to learn.

“I can’t do that and you know it,” I said, looking nervously around at his friends. I was surrounded. I had a fleeting sense of relief knowing Tyler wasn’t there. He couldn’t take on half a dozen people who could bench press an SUV, but knowing Tyler he would still try for me. I wasn’t worth it for him to hurt himself. Steven threw the rock at me and I reflexively tried to put my hands up to block it.

“Don’t lie!” He screamed, advancing toward me. I backed away two steps before one of his buddies came up from behind and shoved me toward Steven. Steven, for his part, stopped my forward momentum with a punch to my gut. I collapsed on the ground, wheezing for air as he yelled at me, telling me to turn the rock into gold. I tried to explain it wasn’t possible, gasping for air and coughing. Steven must have grown tired of me trying to talk, and kicked me in the stomach as I lay at his feet. This prompted his cronies to jump on me and start kicking and punching me, like sharks in a feeding frenzy.

I tried to fight back. I did. I tried to get up and was pushed back down so hard my head smacked against the concrete of the sidewalk. I tried grabbing a kicking boot to stop it but only had my hands get stepped on for my trouble. I curled up into a ball and tried to protect myself. I cried. Desperately, just like every other time this had happened, I reached and tried to find my magic. I would never admit this to anyone afterward, but in those moments, I would cast around desperately for my power. I wanted to make them all burst into flame. I wanted to turn them into goats. I wanted to freeze them and run away. But like every other time, my powers refused to answer me.

I didn’t know when they stopped. I just know at some point, I was lying on the ground in the fetal position, crying as Tyler helped me to my feet.

 

As far as houses go, mine was pretty average. The two story building had a bit of a modern look, with lots of simple wood slats for a façade all painted white. The front door was unpainted dark oak, and the door to the two car garage was painted to match. Tyler helped me down the short driveway to the door while I fumbled with my keys. When we got inside, Tyler immediately steered me to the right of the staircase facing the doorway and pretty much dragged me through the kitchen and into a small half bathroom. While getting the living snot beaten out of me wasn’t a daily occurrence, it happened frequently enough that Tyler knew his way around the well-stocked first aid kits my parents kept in every bathroom. He cleaned the scratches and cuts on my arms and hands, working quickly and quietly. I was in too much pain to feel embarrassment, and just followed his softly spoken directions when he issued them.

The injuries weren’t too bad, just painful and bloody. After he was done, Tyler packed the kit up and we went upstairs to my room, where I put on a hoodie to cover my bandaged arms. “Thanks,” I said softly.

Tyler smiled, but it looked like he forced it. “Anytime buddy. What happened?”

I sat down on my bed and explained what happened, trying to summarize as quickly as possible. Tyler looked thoughtful by the time I finished. “He said he wanted gold?”

I shrugged. “He would have beaten me up anyway. Gold was just his excuse.”

“But he hates magic. He wet his pants the first time he thought you were casting a spell. He might gang up on you with his buddies, but he skirts you in the halls when he’s alone. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe he thought he could get some free money?”

Tyler shook his head. “He knows as well as I do. You can’t use magic while you wear your collar.”

I scratched my neck under my collar and shrugged. I was tired of talking about it. Tyler seemed to understand and sat next to me in silence for a bit before suggesting we play a video game.  I agreed and set about powering up my console while he pulled a couple of folding chairs I kept in one corner of my room for gaming. After about an hour of playing, I started to feel better and we got into our usual banter and laughter. These were moments I enjoyed the most; the ones where I felt normal. No magic or collars or bullies, just a friend who doesn’t mind mutually ignoring the looming shadow of homework with you by way of virtural violence. And any friend who will do that AFTER cleaning up your blood is a friend worth keeping.

In a depressingly short amount of time, Tyler said he had to go home and get started on his homework, since his honor classes gave so much more. I walked him out before dragging myself up to my room and sat down at my desk, dumping my books and papers from my backpack onto the desk and got started on my own work. It wasn’t long after that I heard the garage door open and then close. I sighed and went downstairs.

My parents supported us with a large inheritance they’d gotten from my great grandfather (he wasn’t an Arcane, in case you were wondering). My dad had an engineering degree, and my mom had a teaching degree, although the oricalcum collars they wore made job hunting difficult, especially for my mom, who would have to work around children with stupidly overprotective parents. It was just as well we were financially stable. Arcanes did not do well in the job market. Somehow magic made us threatening or overqualified or some other load of bull. It wasn’t that Arcanes were treated as second class citizens, it was that people had preconceived notions of magic, especially after the greater demon incident, and there were no laws that protected Arcanes under equal opportunity employment.

My dad was tall and strong, with the same blue eyes I had, strong features, and well-kept brown hair. If I looked closely enough and replaced the brown with black hair, I could see the similarities between me and him, but it was a hard thing to see. My mom was slightly shorter than my dad. He long black hair fell down to her shoulder blades, and her deep green eyes regarded everything with concern and curiosity just like my dad. The minute they saw me they noticed the bandages on my hands, and the smiles that were no doubt still a lingering result of their day out with one another were replaced with looks of concern. They rushed to me and started playing Twenty Questions while I stayed impassive and tired.

“Who did this?” Dad asked with one hand on my shoulder as he looked at my face.

“Just someone at school,” I said, looking off to the side. I didn’t like it when my parent got concerned over my injuries like this. With Tyler it was one thing, but in the face of my dad and mom it was embarrassing.

“Who was it?” Mom asked as she held one of my hands and looked over it.

I squirmed a bit. “No one. It’s fine.” I was led to the living room and they sat me down on the couch, sitting on either side of me. Mom checked over the bandages, lifting up the sleeve of my hoodie while my dad kept pressuring me.

“It was Steve,” I relented, staring at the floor.

“Again?” My mom asked with her voice filled with concern. I told them what had happened.

“You should talk to the school,” my dad said. My dad wasn’t one of those fathers that encouraged beating up every bully you ever meet. He had, however, tried to get me into martial arts so I could defend myself. I didn’t last long in those classes. Martial arts are called disciplines, and I didn’t have any.

“I already did,” I said miserably. “They didn’t do anything.”

My dad set his jaw. “I’ll talk to someone then.”

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s… it’ll be fine. I’ll handle it.”

My parents didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure Jake?” My mom asked, putting her hand on my arm. I nodded, and they relented. I tried not to think about how sadly familiar this conversation had become. To the point that what used to be an hour long argument had been concluded in less than twenty minutes. My dad got up and went into the kitchen. I heard the sound of dishes being moved around and knew he was starting to cook dinner.

I sat with my mom on the couch for a few minutes before muttering something about homework and beating a retreat back to my room. I sat at my desk and stared at my homework for a while before pushing it all into my backpack and giving it up as a lost cause, already mentally rehearsing what my teachers would say about ANOTHER missed assignment. I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing. Eventually my mom called up the stairs and declared dinner to be ready. I spent a few seconds mentally preparing myself and got up to go downstairs.

The three of us sat at the table, eating and making small talk (well, THEY made small talk. I just kind of sat there and shrugged a lot when the conversation pointed my way). Savage beatings aside, this was usually how our evening went. We would talk and joke and laugh, compare stories and news, and otherwise just enjoy the company of family. Sometimes, like the nights after I had gotten beat up, I would feel very melancholic and found the family setting grating. I would still force myself to sit with them though. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

After dinner, I helped clean off the table and went back to my room. My parents would most likely stay downstairs and watch TV together for a couple hours before going to their room. I lay on my bed, still in my clothes, and stared at the skylight that had been installed directly over me. I thought about a lot of thing, like how cool Tyler was for helping me, and how unfair it was he had to help me at all. I thought about how weak I was. I thought about how Steven seemed to get some perverse pleasure out of seeing me in pain. I thought about my magic, and how it did nothing but make me a target for people like Steve. I thought about how unfair it was I had been born like this. I turned to my side as the tears started to well up in my eyes, and like so many nights before, cried myself to sleep.