A Spark of Death

Intro.


My name is Seth Carlisle and I am a citizen of Rytan, a world riddled with magic and cloaked in mystery. Rytan, you see, is home to those who can control the elements and bend them to their will.
But Rytan is also a world infected with war. Where there is power, there will be people who abuse it. In this case the desecrator of the magical arts bore the name Llyr but is known as the Knight of Death. The Knight was once a mage but it soon became apparent that he was so much more. There are certain people who surpass even the immense power of the mages. These extraordinary people are known as manipulators. Manipulators possess a mastery of the elements but also a control of the great magics: life and death. The knight was the second manipulator to exist and chose the path of death. By the age of 16 he had created the circle of death: an army that seek to seize Rytan and cloak it in a fog of death and sulphur. They dream of a sick world were the sun does not shine and there is not a tree to be found. Starting in the south, this army has advanced with rapid speed and within 3 years more than a third of the world was infected with the disease that was the Circle. But hope was not lost. To combat the ever-growing forces of this army, the Rytan government created the Mage’s Guild. An organisation built on the foundation of the just use of magic. This agency was tasked with combating the Circle and training the mages of tomorrow.
These mages are centred in a colossal marble building known as the College, where they hone their control, and teach children who show the potential to become future mages. The revered halls of the College are stuff of dreams for many children, who fantasise of fireballs and lightning bolts, but the truth is that very few of these hopefuls are scouted and even less recruited by the professors of the College. I, too dreamed of magic, but my hopes were dashed when I hit my 11th birthday (the year where any magical ability comes forth). Little did I know that soon I would be seeing much more of the College that I ever imagined.

1
“Hey, Snow White, get your pale butt over here!” Damien Cook, a plump boy with a mean face and a hooked nose called over at me. School had just finished and groups of students were congregating at the gate. When I didn’t move he and his sidemen smugly walked over. “You deaf or something paley?” he said snidely while Mark Schmidt (sideman number 1) stuck his chin out. He looked like an idiot. “Me and the lads are heading out to the chippy but Rob here left his cash at home. You got any we can borrow?”. ‘Rob’ (sideman number 2) sniggered and I suddenly realised what they were up to: this was just a mugging with a bow on top. Glancing into Damien’s eyes I knew that there was only one answer that wouldn’t end with me on the floor with a nose bleed and a black eye. I could smell the violence steaming off him. I reached into my pocket and fished out a crumpled fiver; with the sight of money the three boys’ faces noticeably lit up, impossibly making Damien look even more ugly and obnoxious. After Damien snatched it from me and strolled away looking like a chicken who had drunk a bit too much I sighed and slowly made my way back home.
*****
After having tea and surviving a lecture from my mum about the fiver that ‘fell out of my pocket’ I went to bed. A few minutes past and I was just on the brink ok sleep when the door creaked open and my dad slipped in. he was a tall sleight man and an albino like me. He walked with a kind rhythm and his face lit up when he was happy. He always seemed to understand me and was a comforting failsafe when something like this happened. His pearl white hair contrasted with the dark room as he edged towards my bed. “Seth?” he hissed walking a bit closer and squinting at my bed. “Yes Dad?” I said sitting up and rubbing off the weariness. He smiled at me and sat on the end of my bed, with the look he gave me I realised (with no degree of surprise) that he knew that something had happened. He was good at that. “You know son that I can tell when something’s wrong” he said his voice soft but kind “I thought I would just say, your mother and I know that it’s hard for you. I know what it’s like to be different and just remember that we are there for you. You can always talk to us if you need to.” Then with a smile like silver he walked to the door and just before leaving he started to hum a soft tune that seemed strangely familiar to me. I was too tired to think over it too much and fell into the warm grasp of sleep with the last few notes ringing in my head.
*****
The next morning dawned with the dreariness of the evening that had proceeded it. I was not a morning person at the best of times and the peak of conversation in my house consisted of animalistic grunts. It was strange how my family could communicate whole conversations in a few grunts and a word here or there. Breakfast was cold porridge and old orange juice (I had woken up late) and by 7:45 I was on my way to school. While in the rhythm of walking the memories of yesterday came flooding back. I almost cried. I would have to endure Damien’s Cooks face for another whole day. This was going to be a hard one. In anger I lashed out with my arm. To my surprise a nearby can clattered of its place on the wall. With a shocked glance a strange thought snuck into my head, but it was it was quickly dismissed by the bell for first period which I could hear from my current position two streets away. With horrified realisation I noticed that I had slowed down to think and was now quite late. Cursing I ran to school trying to shake the feeling that something had changed on that 20 minute walk.
That school day was by far the weirdest I had ever experienced. Strange things seemed to follow me around like a spectre, and took every chance to present themselves to my class mates. From pens flying off desks to the teacher’s coffee floating out of her mug and hovering above her like a brown cloud bursting with precipitation. After the third chalk had been broken, with a loud snap, classes were called off for the day and students were let out early. On my way out I overheard Miss Finch calling in SMAC (student magical ability calculation) for a surprise magical evaluation test tomorrow. Not that much of a surprise now I thought as I pushed open the dirty glass doors and squinted against the midday sun. It was about 12:30 and half of my class had formed a mob in the playground. Rumours were spreading like wildfire as the exited children gossiped in the various corners of the playground. Without stopping to chat (I didn’t have many friends and after the day I had had I just wanted to get home) I walked quickly out of the gate and onto the street.
It took me about two and a half minutes to realise that I was being tailed. Within five I recognised Damien’s hooked nose and Mark’s needle sharp jaw. They were back for more. I increased my pace to try and escape their fast closing grasp, but to my dismay, they were still gaining. I decided to try a new tactic and crossed the road and turned into a small ally. “Maybe I could lose them” I thought optimistically. Immediately I realised my mistake: the ally was a dead end! I cursed my optimism and scanned the tight hallway sized space, looking for a way out. All I could see was an old tree and a metal fire escape with the first few flights of stairs missing. Rats! I thought realising with horror that there was no way out.
Timidly, I turned to face the three school bullies. “Hey, snowdrop!” Damien called at me, the tight walls of the alley amplifying his annoying tone. His two sidemen slipped behind me with sadistic smiles scarring their face. “I just thought since you were such a good sport yesterday, that you could give us a little more cash. Just to tide us over for the evening.” I heard Mark and Rob snigger behind my back and Damien’s smile clearly portrayed that he expected no resistance. He held out one pudgy hand and his eyes flickered across me, waiting for some action. When none came his smile faded and the mood in the ally turned sour very fast. “I said give us your money!” he said his voice rising into a crescendo of anger. It seemed clear to me that no one had ever disobeyed him before. “No” I said my voice soft but firm (the defiance in my own voice shocked even me). It sure as hell shocked Damien. His face fell so spectacularly is was Olympic medal worthy. I almost laughed. “Are you sure that’s your answer scrawny?” he said the anger rising in his voice. The air rippled around me as Rob and Mark took a step closer. I could smell their putrid breath on my shoulders. For the second time I did nothing and Damien snapped. He swung a punch that snapped my head back sharply and I felt a thin trickle of blood snake its way down my chin. He stood smugly over me obviously expecting the fight to be over before it had started. It had the opposite effect and I felt white hot anger rise up inside of me. The Bully seemed to notice me so he launched another punch that connected with my chin and drove me to my knees. I could taste the coppery tang of blood and this fuelled my rage. I felt a rebellious fire flare to life in my eyes as I stared at the towering boy. Damien seemed to sense it and landed a whirlwind of clumsy punches to my face and a knee to my nose. I felt the latter foremost and was pretty sure that he had broken my nose. The fire in my chest became a torrent fuelled by the pain I was feeling. There was nothing more I wanted than to cause this boy pain. As I stood, the intense pain that was fuelling my anger a few seconds ago was forgotten, I lifted my hand and from my palm a tsunami of shadow exploded outwards. I caught a glimpse of Damien’s face, eyes wide with fear and mouth open in a silent scream. Both of his sidemen ran from the ally with eyes like a wild animal as Damien was propelled backwards. He got up crying and screaming for his mum as a patch of urine spread across his trousers. I had never seen someone turn and run so fast from the tight ally, but I was too tired to take pleasure out of it. I felt exhausted. All of the white hot rage that seemed to control my every move had subsided and I was left feeling empty. Worse than that, I felt like a horse had just danced the Can-Can on my face and my broken nose killed. Giving up on all reason I curled into a ball and fell into an instant, deep sleep.