Chapter 3
Elizabeth Wakefield went about her task of setting the table for dinner along with Jessica. Normally, Steven was meant to do it that evening, but after what had happened…
A blood-curdling male scream sounded from upstairs, and Elizabeth dropped the forks she was holding, the clanging sound they made on the floor causing the hairs on the back of her neck rise up a further few centimetres.
Alice and Ned came rushing out of the kitchen and shouted up the stairs, "Steven?"
Steven appeared at the head of the stairs, a little pale but smiling sheepishly. "It's nothing," he said. "Nothing at all. In fact, it was just a spider that happened to fall on my head."
Jessica frowned in confusion. Steven was never afraid of insects, least of all spiders. In fact, when they were much younger, he used capture spiders in shoeboxes and threaten to release them on the twins if they didn't listen to him. Once, he did carry out his threat, and Jessica had never forgiven him for it.
But now, everybody was just relieved that it was nothing serious. Steven went back into his room, and Jessica and Elizabeth returned to setting the table. After a couple of moments of silence, Jessica glanced across at her sister.
"Don't you think that was strange?"
Elizabeth paused in the process of setting out the plates. "That spider thing?"
"Yeah."
Elizabeth bit her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe, but I think we should just leave the guy alone."
Jessica nodded, but inside she was extremely doubtful.
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Still trembling from head to foot, and with no idea why he had lied to his family just then, Steven turned back into his room. The strange creature that had emanated from the book stood staring at him in rigid attention. Now that he'd gotten over his shock and got a good look at the… thing, it was almost funny.
Steven found himself staring at a small creature, perhaps four feet in height, with rough greenish-brown skin, pockmarked by occasional small lumps. It wore a white cloak around its thin frame and two wide brown eyes stared at him from a small wizened face. A tiny nose stuck out above a wide, whisker framed mouth and its ears, almost as long as a rabbit's, twitched constantly. After a few long moments of silence, Steven cleared his throat.
"Um, hello?"
The creature tilted its head slightly, opening its mouth to speak, revealing yellow, jagged teeth in the process. "You have the blood of the saviour running in your veins," it said, in a surprisingly deep, soothing voice, with an undertone of awe. Steven shifted uneasily, not sure of what to say.
"Yeah, thanks, I guess. But--"
He was interrupted by a bow from the creature. "I am Kalilay Simhon Mariotto, from the species of firsks. I was your mother's companion and advisor, as generations of my family have been to yours, of the Magic Clan." The creature looked up at him with a sudden, scrutinising glance. "But you can call me Kal, as Lady Alisa preferred."
Steven was feeling increasingly more uncomfortable and confused. His head was bursting with a million questions, but somehow, his lips seemed to have turned to lead.
"I see you have a lot to inquire of me," Kal prompted helpfully.
"Yeah, you bet I do," Steven blurted. "What is the Magic Clan?"
The 'firsk' laced its long, knobbly fingers together and rested his pointed chin on them, his eyes still fixated on Steven. "The Magic Clan is- or rather was- a select race of people who could, in crude terms, practice magic. This sort of a magic is not your usual waving a wooden stick and muttering mumbo-jumbo, but the complete unification of one's soul to the powers of nature's elements. The power produced by such a process is nothing short of incredible."
Steven listened in open-jawed amazement. "What did this Clan do?"
Kal's eyes now closed, deeply involved in his narrative. "I am sure you are aware of the biological and physical structure of man, maybe even of the intricate complexities of the human mind. However, the Clan discovered that the human soul was made up of conflicting powers of nature- both destructive and constructive. Many of the Clan set out on a journey of self-exploration to achieve the perfect balance. However, not all of them achieved it. In fact, some of their journeys went so 'off the track', as Lady Alisa would call it, that the destructive side of their nature overwhelmed their souls. They cried for the complete annihilation of the Magic Clan, and very nearly achieved it, too. Lady Alisa was the only one to escape- she became the professed saviour of the clan."
Steven frowned. "The annihilation of an entire race? But certainly the world must have heard of it, right?"
Kal shook his head. "You do not understand. The Magic Clan and their defectors- they were normal people on the outside. They pursued the same life that the other billions of humans on this planet do. It was all very secret."
The firsk gave a raspy sigh and continued. "These defectors, who called themselves the Raydevils, a rather crude name I think, were widespread, across the globe. Once the destruction of the Magic Clan was confirmed, the magic within them went into dormancy. They thought Alisa was dead, though of course, she wasn't.
Wouldn't anyone be appalled at the complete wiping out of such a sophisticated race, beholders of a rare truth? Lady Alisa was the only hope for the revival of the clan, but unfortunately, she became a victim of severe pneumonia soon after you were born. She thought that, naturally, giving you to your father was the best way to keep you safe. I had to stay dormant in this book, until you found out."
"So that's what 'awaits the heir' meant…" Steven muttered to himself, awed.
Kal continued speaking. "Steven, you are the lone survivor of the Magic Clan, and therefore its new saviour."
Steven stared at him incredulously. "Excuse me? This thing is way too weird to believe, and even if I believed it, how am I supposed to do anything to save an entire race? I'm just your average high school kid."
Kal sighed. "You have no perception of how wrong you are." The firsk looked at him sharply, sudden intensity burning in its eyes. "The Raydevils sense you, Steven. They're awakening. Their sole purpose is to kill you. So, whether you believe it or not, you have to vanquish the Raydevils to survive."
Steven raised an eyebrow sceptically, unimpressed. "And how am I supposed to 'vanquish' them?"
Kal looked at him as if Steven were joking. "With your magic, of course."
Steven felt like tearing his hair out. "How am I supposed to get this through to you: I have no magic power!"
Kal stared back at him calmly, not intimidated by Steven's yelling. "You have the potential within you; we just have to tap it."
Steven grew very, very still.
"What do you mean, we?"
"I thought it'd be obvious. I will train you through the basics, of course, though I don't have any real training in the art of the Magic Clan."
Steven felt his head spinning. "T-training?"
Kal sat down cross-legged on Steven's bed. "I know, the Magic is more a practice of self-exploration, but since you have absolutely no awareness of the Magic, I have to guide you through the beginning stages."
The firsk gave him a sudden, crooked grin. "In fact, we could start right now."
Steven held up his palms. "Wait; give me some time, will ya? This is too much to digest for one evening; besides--"
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Steven?" Jessica's voice, a little muffled, sounded.
"Just a second!" Steven said aloud and glanced with urgency at Kal. "Go back into the book, or something!" he whispered fiercely.
Kal gave him a look of some bewilderment, but thankfully, didn't say anything. The small whirlwind of light surrounded the firsk once again, and he disappeared into the open book.
Hoping he didn't look too flustered, Steven opened the door. Jessica stood outside, looking slightly confused. "Mom's calling you for dinner," she said, peering on tiptoes over his shoulder into his room curiously.
Steven looked at her with as much irritation as he could muster. "What are you looking at?"
Jessica gave him a probing glance. "Were you talking to somebody in there?"
Sweat broke out on Steven's forehead, but he maintained his irritated, older-brother expression. "I was talking on the phone," he said shortly. He closed the door behind him and strode toward the stairs. Jessica stood staring at the door for a long moment, then shrugged, and followed him down the stairs.
