Author's Note: Hello there! If you've arrived here on purpose, I'd just like to thank you for choosing to read this story. I'm sure you'll have an excellent time of it. If you've arrived on accident... please stay? I'm sure you'll have fun too. Anyway, this is a story centered on a boy named James. As you might've guessed from the description, he's a Teleporter. What's gonna happen, you ask? How about you read and find out. Oh, by the way, this chapter isn't amazing. Not up to my usual standard anyway. But if you'll bare with me, I'm sure we can push through it together, and continue further, okay? Sounds good. Now, onto the show!

Chapter One

An Invitation

A tall boy with dark brown hair stood by the luggage carousel in Dublin Airport, watching as other people's luggage went round and round, occasionally getting claimed by other people stepping off airplanes. It felt strange for the boy, being in Ireland. He'd never stepped foot out of America before, and now he was across the ocean. All because a mysterious man had appeared out of thin air right before his eyes.

About two weeks ago, the boy's father had passed away. This was a very sad matter, for obvious reasons. Equally as sad was how the boy dealt with it. He brooded, alone in his home, for several days. He wasn't so solitary by choice, however; there was just no one else to grieve with him.

He had been homeschooled his entire life. Actually, no, that's not true. He had gone to a public grade school until he was about seven. Then something happened which caused his parents to promptly pull him out, and providing an education for their boy themselves. What could cause such a drastic decision, you ask?

Magic.

The boy had showed the warning signs of being a naturally born mage before the "incident," but his parents had hoped that they had been mistaken. Unfortunately for them, there was no mistaking what had happened on the class field trip.

It had been a sunny Wednesday… or maybe it was Thursday… Well, it doesn't really matter. It had been a weekday. A sunny one. The boy's elementary school had taken their usual field trip, to the local zoo. Well, our young boy was always a fan of the lions. He'd always wanted to pet a lion, and on this particular day, he got his chance. Not by some sort of raffle where the winner got to pet a lion. Oh no, nothing like that. One moment he was standing by the iron bars of the enclosure, and the next he was practically nestled in a den of lion cubs. Just like that. Poof.

It was then that the boy's parents realized he had natural born talent for magic, specifically Teleportation. And the rest, as they say, is history. The aforementioned homeschooling took place, then the death of both his parents, and now we're at the present.

Well, not the present, actually. The present is this boy in Dublin. This is two weeks prior to the present, when he's still in America. As I stated earlier, he spent all of his time sulking and mourning. Rightly so, I might add; death is mighty depressing, and can cause even the best of us to feel down in the dumps.

His moping ended momentarily, however, with a knock at his door. As the boy got up, wiped his eyes, and shuffled to the front door, he wondered who it could be. Obviously not a school friend, as he had none. His father had been a psychologist, and his mother a house wife, so it couldn't be a work acquaintance.

The boy pulled open the door, his curiosity peaked at this point, to reveal a man with light brown hair. It was short, a bit lighter than the thin beard that covered the lower half of the man's face. He had pale skin, but looked healthy. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"James Duran?" he asked. The newly orphaned boy, who was in fact James Duran, nodded.

"Can I help you?" he asked. He hoped his eyes wouldn't be too red from the crying he had been doing.

"My name is Cameron Light," the man said, stepping into James' house, despite not being invited. "I think we may have something in common." He held out a hand to a rather confused James.

"What would that be?" asked the teenager, reaching out a hand to shake the stranger's. The moment the two of them made contact, James felt an all too familiar feeling. It was as if he was being whisked away from his home. He felt lighter than air, and then, in a single moment, it all stopped. And he was somewhere entirely different.

They had teleported. Only James hadn't done it. It had been Cameron Light.

They no longer stood in James' home, but in a large and open field. James could see no lights, and hear no cars, so he assumed they must be rather far from civilization. He immediately put his guard up.

"You're a Teleporter?" asked James, though he already knew the answer. Cameron smiled.

"Yes indeed," he said. James noticed for the first time that the man had an Irish accent. "And, if my sources are correct, you are as well." James, who was rather bright, despite being only fifteen, narrowed his eyes slightly.

"And what sources would those be?" he asked, hoping that one of his puberty-related voice cracks wouldn't be happening any time soon. Cameron Light smiled, and it seemed to be genuine.

"Well, a man must keep some of his secrets, mustn't he?" he asked, winking. "Let's just say that I've known about you—and what you can do—for some time now. And I have a proposition for you."

James' eyes widened slightly. "A proposition?" he asked.

"Yes indeed," said Light. "How old are you, James?"

"Seventeen," James lied. He was tall for his age, so he might just pull it off.

"You're lying," noted Light. Oh. Well, there went that plan.

"Fifteen, then," said James. "That's the truth."

"Oh, I know," Light told him. "I was just being polite. To be frank, though, I already know an awful lot about you."

"Is that right?" asked James, trying to sound more mature than he in truth was.

"I know your name, don't I?" asked Light. "I knew where you lived. I knew you were a Teleporter, and how old you are. I know your father recently passed away." James averted his gaze. Cameron Light placed a hand on James' shoulder, but the teen didn't look up again.

It was after a long, shuddering breath, that James said, "That proposition you mentioned?"

"Listen, James," Light said softly. Despite the paleness of his skin, his hand was warm. "We're both Teleporters. We're mages, James. I've trained for many years to gain my abilities. But some need not do that. Some, like you, are naturally born with magical talents." Now James looked up.

"Magic?" he asked. "This… this thing I can do… magic?" Light smiled again.

"Yes indeed," he said. "Just one of many types. And teleportation is one of the rarest; there's less than a dozen of us in the world right now. And of all of us, nearly all are trained. You, my boy, are not.

"I propose," he continued. "You come with me, where I can train you to use your abilities correctly. Get you involved in the Irish Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" asked James, confused.

"Oh, of course, I forget myself," said Light, shaking his head as if ridding it of cobwebs. "The Sanctuary—most countries have got one—is sort of like a hub for the magical folk. The Irish Sanctuary, however, is the most powerful and influential. Ireland is considered the birthplace of magic, after all."

"I'm part Irish," James noted. "On my mom's side. Her grandfather lived in Ireland. Hardly ever visited." Light nodded, somewhat knowingly.

"No, I wouldn't think he would," Light said. "He was often doing business for us. I suppose you didn't know that your very grandfather was involved with the Irish Sanctuary, did you?" James' eyes widened.

"My grandfather could teleport too?" he asked.

"Oh no, boy," said Light. "Your grandfather was an Elemental mage. He controlled the elements; fire, water, air, and earth."

"Then… why aren't I?" asked James, getting more and more confused as they went on. "Why do I teleport if he controlled fire and stuff?"

"Well, like I said, most people need to train hard to gain their abilities," Light reminded James. "Your grandfather chose the path of the elements. You, however, had no choice in the matter, and were born a natural Teleporter. Congratulations."

James was silent for a moment. This was all a lot to take in, after all. He had accepted long ago that there was something strange about him (the teleporting had been a clue) but now he was learning all about magic and Sanctuaries and his grandfather's past. It left him reeling slightly. Luckily, Light seemed to be a man of action, and continued the conversation along.

"Teleport us back to your home," said Light, placing both his hands on James' shoulders. "Go ahead, get us back to your house. We'll continue speaking there." James shrugged, and closed his eyes. He needed concentration to teleport. He thought hard about his home. His living room, with the sofa and the armchair, the TV and the coffee table. Then, with a deep breath, they teleported.

And wound up about two miles away from where they had just been.

"Not quite," said Light. "As you've just proven to the both of us, you are far from adept at teleportation." Then, in the blink of an eye, Light teleported them both back to James' home. "If you want to be able to do things like that, and more, you'll accept my offer."

And so, after much planning, James had decided he would indeed join Cameron Light in Ireland. Light had provided him with a plane ticket, for a plane that would leave in two weeks' time. Then, without another word, Light had teleported away, most likely back to Ireland.

The next two weeks had passed in a blur. At first, James had tried to think of all the things he would need to pack. Then he wondered how he would explain all this to his friends and family, before the depressing reminder that he had neither.

"Good," he had said to himself, when these thoughts had cropped up. "Less explaining and less alibis are better, anyway."

The only really troubling thing was what would happen to his home. He had lived there all his life, played there, learned there, laughed and cried there. Could he just leave it all behind, like the shell that it was slowly becoming?

This question was answered for him, when some men from the bank knocked on his door one morning. To put it simply, they said a lot of big words, pulled out a lot of official looking documents, and informed James he could no longer live there. He had told them that was fine, excused himself to get a pen, and then teleported to the nearest motel.

And now, finally, we have reached the present. The real present this time. I swear.

James found the small suitcase that contained his clothing, pulled it from the carousel, and began searching. Light had contacted him by phone (James didn't bother to ask how he'd gotten the number) and told him that he himself would be at the airport to pick James up. James assumed that Light would teleport the two of them somewhere. What he had not assumed, however, was that Light would be standing among the taxi drivers, holding up a piece of paper with the name Duran written on it.

James walked over, and Cameron Light smiled warmly. "Welcome to Dublin." He said. And that was that.

Instead of teleporting, Light had brought a car. A Ford. It was nice, and it was blue. James liked blue.

The two Teleporters got in, and as the car whirred to life, Light nodded for James to buckle up. They left the airport in silence, James' face glued to the window. He never would've guessed how different Ireland looked from America. And that it felt so different. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something was… different. Maybe it was magic, who knows?

"So, now that I'm here," said James, moving his face away from the Ford's window, which was currently being pelted with a light rain. "You mind telling me where we're going?"

"To my house," said Light.

"Ah." And that was the end of that. But on the ride over, James' mind began running wild. He was about to see a mage's house. His secret lair, as it was. Would there be spell books? Magical creatures? A flying broom?

No. There would not be. What there was, was a rather nice living room.

"This is… where you live?" James asked, as they entered the home. Light looked to him, and nodded.

"It's homey, wouldn't you say?" he asked.

"Uh… yeah, that's it. Homey." Light smiled, sensing that James was slightly disappointed.

"Well, there is this…" he said. He took James' hand, and teleported. Now they were standing in a rather small room, lined with bookshelves and artifacts. Many of the books had ancient runes etched all over them, and the artifacts all seemed to be from some long-gone age, a few buzzing with some sort of magical energy. Instead of smiling back at Light, James' mouth pretty much hit the floor. He suddenly realized he was gaping, and, feeling rather embarrassed, closed his mouth. "Better?" asked Light, smiling slyly.

"Way," said James, gazing around. "Where are we, exactly?" he asked.

"A room."

'But where is the room?"

"In my house," said Light. "Well… under my house. It's a basement, per se. But there's no door. The only way in is Teleportation. So this is where I keep all my… er… magic-y stuff."

"Uh huh…" James said slowly. "Why don't you keep it all out there, though?" he gestured upwards, signifying the main house that belonged to Light. "Why keep it bottled up down here?"

"My friends," Light said. "Aren't all sorcerers, you know. I interact with loads of mortals on a day to day—"

"Mortals?" asked James.

"Non-magic people," said Light. "I know, the term seems derogatory. But it's been the term we use for centuries, so I don't think our complaints are going to change anything." And then he put a hand on James' shoulder, and the two were instantly back in the foyer of Light's house.

"Okay…" said James. "So, where's my room?"

"Your room?" asked Light, sounding quizzical. Then he seemed to reach a realization, and smiled. "Oh no boy, you're not staying here. You'll move around from motel to motel."

"What?" asked James, confused. "That's ridiculous. Why wouldn't I just live with you?"

"Two Teleporters under the same roof is… iffy at best," said Cameron Light.

"Why's that?"

Light hesitated a moment before answering. "A lot of the magical community… doesn't trust Teleporters. I think it's got something to do with us being wherever we want, whenever we want. A bit unnerving for some, I'd expect."

"People don't like us?" asked James, even more confused. "I didn't know that! When were you planning on telling me that the magical community already thought badly of me?"

"Sometime between lessons five and six," Light answered honestly. "You've just arrived in our magical little world, I didn't want to taint your expectations before we even got you started. Speaking of which…" he moved into his kitchen, to a counter. James followed, and watched Light flip through a day planner. A magical day planner? No, a regular day planner. "Ah yes!" he said suddenly. He turned back to James. "Our first lesson will begin Friday, here, at nine am. Does that work for you?" James' eyes widened in surprise at the odd question.

"Wha… what do you mean?" he asked. "Of course it works for me. What else would I be doing?"

"Good point," said Light. James was beginning to expect that the serious tone that Light had first greeted him with had been a façade. Perhaps he was always this… erratic… "Here, I'll show you some of my favorite motels to stay at, when the need arises."

And so the two Teleporters spent the afternoon scouting out places for James to stay. Most of them were relatively close by, which meant that James could switch between several of them in just one or two teleports. Cameron Light had insisted he not stay in the same place for more than three nights at a time, as people usually caught on to the fact that you hadn't paid for your room.

The motel that James would spend his first few nights in certainly wasn't luxurious; but then, what motel was. It had a bed, a bathroom, and a TV. What more did he need, really? And it was nearby two other motels, so James could switch through them relatively easy.

"Remember," said Light, as he prepared to depart. "Friday at nine, at my home. Meet me there for your first lesson."

"Will do," said James. Light smiled, nodded a goodbye, and disappeared. James flopped backwards onto the bed.

A new chapter in his life was starting. A very odd, exciting, magical chapter.

And he was ready.

This is just the start. If you liked it, please rate, review or favorite the story, to let me know. Chapter two will be up soon.