Little Whinging, Surrey, England
Halloween, midnight
2010
A tale and opening act we are all too familiar with at this point. Two loving parents betrayed and slain as they tried their hardest to protect their one child, a son. The evil that slew the parents was ready to do the same to the child but forces that would go unexplained for years were at work that saved the life of what appeared to be a simple baby, the evil one vanishing into the cold night, leaving the child with a most unusual scar in the form of a lightning bolt.
The boy is spirited away to safety by two wizards and a witch, in what was thought to be the best place for him, his last living relatives belonging to his dead mother. The eldest of the magickals leaves the baby at the front door without knocking with nothing but his blanket and a letter. The two youngest of the elders then turn and vanish into the night that roared with joyous rapture, news of the evil one's death spreading at the speed of light and wind. The eldest one stayed slightly longer, waving a stick in motions that a normal human would find strange, the baby glowed in muted colors briefly before the man also turn to follow his companions into the lively night.
But the child, left alone as the wind blew quietly, more so his magick, had other plans. He could sense his life would be hell here, full of torture, pain and the most unloving people one would never want to meet. So his magick took action to protect itself and its host. They too vanished into the night, with blanket and letter, relocating to a place that promised a far better and more interesting life than one could ever hope to find in the likes of Little Whinging, Surrey.