The Beginning Ch. 13-14

A/N: I hope you're all safe and healthy. I've made the decision to continue posting these chapters in the "Sci-Fi & Fantasy" category. As far as sex scenes are concerned, I'll continue including them, but I won't be throwing them in for the heck of it. If you're looking for a quick jerk, this isn't a story you'd enjoy.

These two chapters contain no sex.

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Chapter 13- Unlocking Power

Unknown Date

Unknown Time

Unknown Location

I sat up with a start, finding myself in another room I'd never seen before. Unlike the hospital room that I woke up in, the last time around, the walls of this one were painted in soft blue tones, and the room itself felt more homely.

The bed that I was in was a standard, wooden, unadorned double bed that would fit right into any bedroom. The mattress, however, was harder than I was used to, and felt like it was stuffed with some sort of foam. It had a rigid springiness to it, which was honestly a little weird, but nothing I couldn't get used to in time. The pillow my head was resting on seemed to be the same, but, in contrast, the blanket covering me was one of the softest I'd ever felt.

Two wooden bedside tables flanked the bed, both with some sort of stone embedded in the top. Two double-doored wooden wardrobes— one standing in between two doors that were opposite me, and the other next to a rectangular window on my right— filled out the rest of the room, all the furniture bearing the same dark brown color palette. The window seemed to have some sort of thick metal blinds that were tilted open to let in some light, and the ceiling had another stone embedded in it.

There was a nagging sensation at the back of my head that there was something wrong, but pinning it down was like trying to remember a dream. A few moments after I'd woken up, the feeling passed, so I just shrugged it off. Pushing the blanket off me, I swung my feet off the bed and onto the cool tiles, finding myself dressed in a pair of lounge shorts and a t-shirt from home.

Curious, I walked over to the wardrobe that was a little taller and twice as wide as I was, next to the window, opening it to find it full of drawers. Two large drawers sat at the very bottom, while the rest of the space was equally divided into twenty-four more drawers. All of them were empty, so I closed the wardrobe and headed over to the other one.

The second wardrobe shared the same dimensions as the first, but was very different inside. It was split into two halves, one housing a wooden mannequin that seemed to be about my size, while the other was split into five segments with shelves. Three of the upper shelves were filled with clothes; one with stuff I'd wear at home, like my current ensemble, one with smallclothes, and the last with what looked like more academy uniforms, all of which were white. There were even a few of the cuffs in there. Ignoring those for the moment, I set about exploring the rest of the place.

The door on the right side of the room opened up into a modest bathroom, the winning feature of which was a circular tub sunk into the floor in the left-hand corner. It was equipped with a number of nozzles within the tub and a showerhead above, though I saw no way to keep any water that splashed around from going all over the bathroom. The surprising thing was that while the sink had a tap, and the toilet itself had an obvious lever for the flush, I couldn't see any way to activate the shower.

There was a mirrored medicine cabinet over the sink, and I did a double take as I caught my reflection in the mirror. The short stubble I remembered waking up with last time had somehow grown into a shabby beard, which didn't look like it suited me at all. I opened the cabinet to thankfully find it stocked with supplies, including a razor, shaving foam, and aftershave.

After freshening myself up, I brushed my teeth and shaved, those simple acts giving me a sense of normalcy that I'd been sorely missing. With a start, I realized that in the time I'd spent asleep, I'd somehow come to terms with my new reality.

Certain people were connected to beings from an alternate dimension, which gave them the ability to use magic. Magic was real. My parents had been powerful magicians. They lost their ability to use magic. They left the Indian Academy. My childhood friends— and the woman I was crushing on, hard— were, in fact, the same age as my parents, which was four-hundred and fifty-seven years old. Enemies that my parents had made literal centuries ago, had somehow tracked them down and murdered them. I killed most of the attackers with my own magic— which I shouldn't have, since I wasn't connected to any beings from alternate dimensions— which led to me being brought to the Indian Academy, in order to master my abilities.

All I felt as I ticked off those points in my head, was a calm acceptance. This was what was. There was just one tidbit of information that didn't sit well with me.

Vaishnavi, Randal, and Mathias were the three strongest Wielders around, except for the Deans themselves. Why then, weren't they more prepared for the battle that happened at my house? Why then, did my parents end up dying?

Walking out of the bathroom, I noticed a full-length wall-mounted mirror next to the second bedside table, that I'd missed on my first glance around the room. Like the rest of the furniture, it was plain and undecorated, even lacking any sort of frame.

Looking at my whole body in the mirror, it looked like I'd lost some weight, and I could swear that my clothes hung looser on my body. Noticing that was a perfect segue for my brain to remind me that my stomach was emptier than a city's streets during a lockdown, so I decided to see what was behind door number two.

The second door opened into a mid-sized living area and a dining area off to the right of that, both of which were tiled in the same soft white, and painted in the same tones of blue as the bedroom. The dining area was furnished with a rectangular table that was framed by eight chairs, and a squat, narrow cabinet, all of which were as unadorned as the furniture in the bedroom.

The living area had a 3-seater couch, a smaller 2-seater couch, and a standalone chaise, all covered in grey fabric, all of which were arranged around a small center table, standing atop a circular dark blue rug. There was one other door, flanked by two more windows, on the far side of the room, which was presently closed. A small shoe rack next to the door held three pairs of those bamboo slippers, with space for five or six more pairs of footwear. All-in-all, nothing within the house particularly stood out.

I walked over to the cabinet in the dining area, opening it to find it filled with plates and cups, all of which were probably enchanted with the same spell that I'd seen when dining with Randal and Mathias. Sighing in exasperation as I realized that I wouldn't be able to eat anything without being able to use my magic, I straightened up and walked over to the other door on the right side of the room.

Pulling it open, I came face-to-face with Vaishnavi, who looked like she was just about to push it open from the other side. Looking past her for a moment, I saw that that was indeed the front door, and it led into a small, low-fenced garden with a small white gate, which opened up onto a street that was filled with the exact same type of house. They were all squat, white rectangular blocks, with a door and two windows facing the front, just like mine.

"Control 'C', control 'V', huh?" I asked her, winking.

"Well," she replied, smiling as she turned around to look at the rest of the houses, "only on the outside. A lot of the houses on your street are actually occupied by families, and as such, are as big as necessary on the inside."

"Is that why mine has just one bedroom? I mean, I'm making assumptions here, but this is my house, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, it is, and yes, that's why you only have one bedroom, although yours also hasn't been customized yet. Everything you see inside is merely a base template. Once you have more control over your abilities, you're welcome to change it as you see fit. No matter what you decide to add, it'll still look the same from the outside."

"Makes sense, I guess. Speaking of which, did you want to come inside?"

"I was just on my way to check up on you, and see if you'd woken up. It's great to see you up and around again! You gave us all quite a scare, being unresponsive for three weeks."

"Did you- did you just say three fucking weeks?!" I screamed, incredulously.

"Ah, Chris," Mr. Ray said, walking up behind Vaishnavi, "you're awake! You really must stop getting into fights with people you can't match, yet." He'd changed into academy robes as well, though his were a strange shade of yellow, and his cuff and ring bore the likeness of an owl.

"What fight?" a man I'd never met before called, from out on the street, "All I remember is crushing this whelp."

He was seriously tall, easily 6'5" or taller, and built like a rugby player. He was dressed in dark blue academy robes, and was leaning on a spear that was over seven feet long from tip to butt. The flat head of the spear was engraved with a stylized bull, as was the cuff around his right arm, and the ring on his right hand.

"Were you the one that attacked me last- three weeks ago?" I asked, sizing him up.

"It was just a-" Vaishnavi began to say, but the stranger cut her off.

"I was." he said, smiling smugly. I just knew that I wouldn't get along with him.

"Well," I said, smiling back sweetly, "all I remember is kicking you in the balls, before you had to go running to mommy."

"I doubt that." Swati said, walking up to join us, standing next to the stranger with her arms folded, "Vince would never come to me with his problems. I've taught him better than that."

"This walking bag of testosterone is your son?" I asked her, taken aback.

"He is." she replied, narrowing her eyes to stare daggers at me.

"Well, maybe if you'd spent more time-"

"Why don't we take this inside?" Mr. Ray asked, cutting me off. He shot me a look that told me to shut up, so I just grunted in acquiescence, turning on my heel to lead the way inside. The others left their slippers— and Swati and Vince, their weapons— outside the door, and filed into my living room. I made a beeline for the chaise, leaving the others to figure out their own seating. Vaishnavi and Mr. Ray chose the 3-seater, while Swati settled onto the 2-seater. Vince chose to remain standing, towering over the rest of us and glowering at me.

"Well," Vaishnavi said, breaking the tension in the room, "we're basically here to clear the air and settle any grievances that may have arisen due to the events that transpired a little over three weeks ago.

"Chris, myself and Ronald owe you an apology. We should have predicted that the protective wards around the residences would consider you a stranger and react accordingly. Similarly, while the warriors who confronted you were only doing their jobs, Vince here should have realized that you weren't Wielding in the moment, and more importantly, that you were accompanied by two Champions. His response was overeager and more violent than necessary, and he's here to apologize as well."

She glanced over at Vince, who seemed like he was about to protest, but a sharp glance from Swati made him reconsider.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled, through clenched teeth.

"Like you mean it, boy." Swati said, shooting him a glare.

"I'm sorry." Vince repeated, putting a little more effort into it this time, "I should have been more aware of the situation, and I should have kept my anger under control. I apologize for shattering most of the bones in your body and almost killing you."

"Better," Swati said, still glaring at him, "but that's not the end of it. Starting tomorrow, you are going to join Chris as I train him, and you will follow the same regimen as he does."

"What?!" Vince exclaimed, "That's not fair! I was almost done with patrol duty! A few more weeks, and I'd have been with the rest of the warriors!"

"Vince Varunai," Swati said, in a low, menacing tone, "do not test me. No matter how justified your initial response might have been, you lost control, lost sight of the situation, and almost murdered an innocent— who is the son of an ex-Commander, to boot. If Chris had died, his blood would have stained your soul forever. Also, let's not forget that for a brief moment, this untrained pup actually had one up on you. Believe me when I say that going through a training regimen is just one of the things you're going to have to do to earn back your place amongst the warriors. That's the last we're going to speak of this. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am." Vince muttered, his anger at the situation evident.

"Good." Swati said, standing up, "Chris, I'll send someone to get you at dawn tomorrow morning. We've wasted enough time as it is. Goodbye."

With that, she turned around and left, Vince following after her, slamming the door shut behind himself.

"That was... interesting." I said, looking over at Vaishnavi and Mr. Ray, both of whom seemed as swept away as I was.

"Swati can be tempestuous," Vaishnavi said, "but she usually means well. She's a good teacher, tough but fair, and I'm sure you'll flourish under her tutelage."

"We'll see," I replied.

"Anyway," Mr. Ray chipped in, "how are you feeling about everything? I know it's been a lot to take in."

"It has," I replied, "and I do have some pressing questions. But first, could one of you help me power up some of those plates and get something to eat? I'm starving."

"Well, it is past noon." Vaishnavi said, looking at Mr. Ray for confirmation, "Would you mind if we joined you?"

"Of course not!" I replied, with a wide smile, "After all, it's not like I actually have to do anything!"

They just laughed as we moved to the dining area. Mr. Ray went to grab three plates from the cabinet, while Vaishnavi and I settled ourselves at the table. I sat at the head of the table, facing the living room, and she took the chair to my right. Mr. Ray sat down to my left, handing Vaishnavi and myself a plate each, before focusing on mine.

"It's active," he said, "just think of what you'd like to eat."

Just then, I was craving for a burger with everything on, curly cheesy fries, and a chocolate milkshake, so that's what I went for. A moment later, a delicious-looking burger, crispy, curly fries dripping with cheese, and a dark brown chocolate milkshake topped with whipped cream and sprinkles were sitting right in front of me. I looked over to see that Vaishnavi had gone for a yellow-tinged rice dish that smelled delectable, accompanied by a white, milky-looking drink, while Mr. Ray had stuck with simple-looking sandwiches and what looked and smelled like orange juice.

"What is that?" I asked Vaishnavi, my interest piqued.

"Vegetable biryani," she replied, "a remnant of the Mughal empire's rule. The drink is called 'buttermilk', and you can get it in a number of flavors. This one is simple, with just a little sugar to sweeten it up. Would you like to try some?"

I nodded eagerly, offering her some of my fries in return. She acquiesced, grabbing a couple of fries after ladling a spoonful of the rice, which was mixed with a variety of vegetables, into my plate. Mr. Ray handed me a spoon, and I dug in, curious to see what it tasted like. Unfortunately, that didn't go so well.

"Hot!" I screamed, as the spice hit my tongue, making me feel like my mouth was on fire, "Hot, hot, hot!"

My mouth filled with saliva as my body tried to cool it down, but all that made me do was swallow, the heat flowing down my throat and into my stomach. I broke out into a sweat as I paced around, blowing with my mouth open, trying to cool down. In between a fit of laughter, Vaishnavi handed me my milkshake, which I gulped down, sighing as it countered the spice. I still felt like the inside of me was cooking over a low heat, but at least I could talk again.

"That's insanely spicy!" I exclaimed, panting softly, "How do you even eat that?!"

"I'm so sorry!" she replied, wiping tears out of the corner of her eye, "I forgot that you don't have a very high tolerance for spice. To me, this is just mildly spicy."

"Mild?! Fucking mild?! Are you a dragon or something?!"

"No," she replied, still laughing, "just Indian."

I looked over to Mr. Ray, hoping that he'd back me up, but he was doubled over, laughing as well.

"I'm sorry," he said, as he caught me glaring at him, "it's just that your face is so, so red!"

Huffing indignantly, I sat back down, digging into my burger sullenly. Mr. Ray and Vaishnavi stopped laughing after a bit, and she even refilled my milkshake. Accepting that as a peace offering, we relaxed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the meal. After we were done, Vaishnavi powered the plates up and returned them to their base configurations, and then placed them back in the cabinet. We moved back to the living area, the two of them sitting on the two-seater, while I took the chaise again. They looked at me expectantly, and I took a deep breath before ordering my thoughts.

"I have a question about the night of my birthday." I said.

"Go ahead," Mr. Ray responded, "we'll do our best to answer it."

"I need to better understand what happened that night. From what I've learned, Randal, Mathias, and you, Vaishnavi, are the Champions of the three academies, the strongest Wielders around. Mr. Ray, you were there, too, as were Jeff and Jessica, who were Randal's 'parents', Steve, who was Mathias' 'father', and the woman I didn't know, Sarah. All of you seemed to have some sort of armor, as well as weapons and magic, and you outnumbered the Darks attacking us. My question is, how did we lose so badly? Why did my parents end up dying?"

"I'll take this one," Mr. Ray said, looking over at Vaishnavi. "Before answering your question, Chris, you need to know a few more things about Wielders. All of us have something of a magical 'signature'. It's less obvious here, within the academy, but beyond these walls, you'd be able to sense another Wielder at least a few blocks away, with ease. The stronger a Wielder, the farther their signature extends.

"Within academies, Wielders are identified by the colors of their clothing, and are broadly divided into five ranges of strength. Tier 5 Wielders are the weakest ones among us, usually children who have just Emerged, or in very rare cases, adults who are weaker than average. They dress in white, and would need assistance to defend themselves against a Dark.

"Tier 4 Wielders possess what we deem as regular levels of Power. They make up a majority of our society. They dress in green, and would be a fair match for a single Dark at regular levels of Power.

"Tier 3 Wielders are considered to be stronger than average, like myself, and we dress in yellow. While there are fewer of us, we still number in the tens of thousands.

"Tier 2 Wielders are stronger still, and could very likely face a whole Cell of regular Darks. They dress in dark blue, like Vince, Swati's son. There are a few hundred of them around.

"Tier 1 Wielders are perhaps the rarest of us all. The Indian Academy has only three: Swati, Vaishnavi, and Byrav, who has been filling in for Vaishnavi while she was away, and is currently out on-mission. The Greeks and Romans have five and eight each, respectively. They dress in red, and could have single-handedly handled the Cell of Darks that attacked us, even though they were each boosted to Tier 2 levels artificially. While they were still Wielders, your parents were Tier 1s as well, as are Randal and Mathias.