Heirs of the Hidden

Fridays that land on the 13th of the month are always charged with unexplainable energy in the fall. Well, unexplainable to those who don’t understand magic. See, all the energies converge on those days. Spiritual, magical, natural, all the many forces of the world swirl into one on this very day. It’s amazing... Astonishing. Too bad high school isn’t as thrilling.

Junior year at Grovenville High is in full effect, and so with it comes Chemistry and Trig homework, the stereotypical angsty cliques, and the Torrin LaFaye is a weirdo train. Something most of the kids have ridden since elementary school. An unfortunate side effect of growing up in this small town for the entirety of my life.

My classmates weren’t completely wrong; I guess it was because, for so many reasons, I wasn’t normal. I didn’t subscribe to the typical gender norms, nor did I romantically fantasize about the gender I was supposed to. And though they didn’t know this one, my family are descendants of powerful magic users. Yes, real hocus pocus, open sesame, flying on brooms magic. Except, real life and not Bette Midler.

Actually, that’s a half-truth as while they all don’t know that I am, they call me a witch of some kind. My purple locs, eccentric clothing, and painted nails probably don't help with selling myself as a normal human. But this has always been me, and I’ve only known of my magic for about 4 years. When mom told me, before she...

I make my normal desolate trudge inside Grovenville High passing all the murmurs, the looks, and the kids ignoring my complete existence; a gift and a curse. In many ways it's isolating to see the kids share inside jokes and genuinely laugh with their friends, while I spend most of my time alone and quietly. It’s only in my theatre class where that burden lifts. And when I see Auron Williams, pretty much the only person who doesn’t treat my existence as a hinderance. Being one of the tallest guys in our grade, his aura commanded respect despite being one of the co-presidents of the drama club. But he walked the worlds of the jocks, the preps, all the cliques. To be acknowledged by someone like that felt annoyingly validating. As if some hope he will make others see me.

Surprisingly, when I got to my locker, he, along with his co-lead, Alex Lawerance, and our drama classmates Vander Farr and Marlon Kanu, were standing next to my locker. Alex and I share Mrs. Quinn’s homeroom, so I see her every day. But it felt like a Friday the 13th treat to see Auron early before class at 2pm.

Slightly nervous, I quickly swish around the lock entering 1-3-6, and attempt to grab my books for English Lit, when he spots me and waves.

“Morning, Torrin,” he adds jovially.

The others turn in my direction and all smile and wave. I was taken aback because I wasn’t sure if I’ve ever gotten that warm of a greeting from the rest. Alex is always cordial, yes. But we don’t have extensive conversations. And the most I’ve ever said to the other two were lines in a play.

“Oh... Uh... Morning,” I give a wave back.

Auron smiles brightly and I have to look away before I start to blush. They continue a conversation they were having before I walked over.

“So, what time are you inviting people over?” Vander directs the question to Auron.

“Maybe 7, but it’s real intimate, so please don’t invite like the whole school,” everyone directs their stare at Marlon.

“Wait, why is everyone looking at me?” he questions, offended.

Marlon was one of the few theatre kids that was also a jock, playing wide receiver (I think) for the school’s varsity team. He was well connected around the school like Auron.

“Do we need to spell it out?” Alex replies. The first chime for homeroom rings and we all start to scramble.

“Torrin,” I hear Auron shout as I turn to head to Mrs. Quinn’s classroom. I stopped and looked back, and he clearly noticed my surprised look. He shoots me a gleaming smile and I steady myself.

“Hey, Auron. Wh-What's up?” I turn to walk again as he catches up with Alex.

“What are your plans on this Friday the 13th?” he asks me casually.

“Hmm. Probably watch a couple of scary movies. Eat some candy. It is spooky season.” Did I just say a full normal sentence to him?

“Oh, fun,” Alex exclaims. “But you know what would be even more fun?” she asks notably in a non-condescending way.

“If you come to my small shindig I’m having tonight,” Auron finishes.

Wait, was I being invited to a party? That hasn’t happened since 5th grade when I got invited to Sophie-Alice's pool party and all the kids were scared to get in the water because I accidentally shocked them, not fully knowing then that I could do something like that.

“Oh...That does sound a bit more fun than watching Freddy fight Jason for the 20th time,” I retort, but completely serious.

“You’re witty,” Auron replies in a surprised tone.

“Sooo...?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Great! I’m the old Yafel house on the hill, you know the one! Party starts at 7,” Auron exclaims as he picks up his pace to get to his homeroom. “Oh, and you know about seances, right?” he stops in his tracks to ask.

Oh great, this was the real reason—

“Not because of the stupid rumors,” Alex quickly adds.

“Oh, God no! Just, I’ve seen you with like occult books. I don’t care about the rumors. Just thought you may be privy.” There was a sincere tone to this and maybe because it was him, I wanted to believe.

“I know a few things, I suppose,” I answer back slightly reluctantly.

“Perf! Bring anything you have on it. But only if it’s not too much,” I nod and he takes off to his classroom.

Auron was right, I knew the house well. Mom and grandma used to tell me that the house once belonged to our family up to about 20 years ago or so. It was sold after an incident and now apparently my crush lives in it.

As I walk up to the house, almost like clockwork, thunder and lightning strike as if I were in one of the horror movies I should be watching instead. What was I getting myself into? I adjust my backpack full of my grimoire, candles, chalk, and holy water, just in case, and climb the ridge of steps.

“Torrin, you made it,” Auron exclaims once he opens the door after I ring the doorbell. He pulls me into a side hug and announces to the party I’ve arrived. There were 6 people from our drama class including Alex, Vander and Marlon. The other 14 or so people I’ve seen around school but didn’t really know them, except the SGA president, Shawn Flore. The theatre kids toast their cups to the announcement while everyone else just looks and then goes back to their earnest conversations.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks me as he directs me to the kitchen.

This morning’s crew, along with the other three theatre kids, followed. I didn’t know much about alcohol and never really had it outside of red wine for a ritual one time. I had planned to pass when one of our classmates, Kevin Dole, poured 8 shots of some clear alcohol and passed them out, shoving one in my hand. Years and years on the outside, and here I was finally, sort of, being accepted. To cheers comrades and share something forbidden. My teenage brain could hardly contain the longing I’ve felt.

“Salude,” Kevin shouts, and everyone brings their glass to meet one another in the center of us. I was late for the uptake but then extended my arm glass in hand as well.

They all shared a look and just like that I felt on the outside once again.

“Let’s all go to the basement,” Auron says as he pulls me in for a side hug again. We’ve barely talked this much, let alone touched this much. They all nod and then we, mainly Auron, lead the way and we descend a flight of rickety steps.

The basement was spacious and filled with furniture that was clearly not modern. The house had been renovated and I’m guessing they decided to keep some of the old things.

“So, about that seance,” Bryce Schwann, another drama student, impatiently asks.

“Getting to it,” Auron answers. He turns to me, “If you brought anything, dope. But it’s okay—”

“Oh, no I have things,” I start to fumble with my bag pulling out the candles, the matches I almost thought I forgot, the chalk and grimoire. Their faces were a mix of surprise and excitement. Possibly, a little scared also.

“You’ve done this before?” Alex asked me as I directed them to draw a circle with a symbol and place the candles. Topher Yuka was the best drawer out of the eight of us, so he drew the circle while Alex and Bryce placed the tall orange candles at specific points.

“Yes, of course,” I lied. I’ve seen videos, read books and watched a witch from my grandma’s coven do it before, but never myself.

“So, who are you trying to contact?” a question I already knew the answer to. Auron’s younger brother died a year ago. I believe he was having a hard time. Auron was the one who found him after he had done it. He was always nice to me, and I think that’s because we shared the same loneliness.

“Uh... Recently some weird things have been happening here. Like, I’ll hear someone calling my name when no one is home. Or something will fall from the shelf... And I know it sounds crazy, but I think it’s Alan trying to communicate with me. I just... I just need to know...”

Things just got a little more intense. I knew this is what he wanted from the beginning but hearing it out loud made all this corporeal. I’m not sure if I know what I am doing.

“All done,” Alex proclaims once she places the last candle.

“Alright, magic person. You’re up,” Marlon gestures to me.

“Wait, let’s do one more,” Vander runs upstairs to grab the glasses and what I found out was tequila. He pours eight more shots.

“Salude! To the unknown. Let’s hope they know what they're doing,” I didn’t. We all bring our glasses together once more.

“Alright, Torrin. You’re up,” Auron says as they all back from the fringe of the circle.

I open my grimoire and find the pages on seances I marked earlier that day. I notice that one of the symbols Topher drew seemed a little off, but it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. I begin reciting the incantation that would allow the possible entity in the house to communicate with us. I begin the chant, adding Alan’s name where needed. The wind picks up a bit, and I wonder if this is frightening them, but they looked amazed.

I continue as the wind picks up more to the point all the candles go out. There’s a stillness in the air and silence as I stop. Suddenly plumes of flames shoot from the candles, illuminating the entire basement. The wind whips blowing loose paper and debris around the room. The chalk circle begins to glow gold, something I wasn’t sure it was supposed to do. I began chanting once again, asking Alan to communicate with us. Suddenly a purple crack appears in the air. A rift of some kind, and I am certain this is not supposed to happen.

“Umm... Alan should just appear in a corporeal form. I’m not sure what this is, I’m sorry,” I yell over the howling wind.

Everyone looks at me and then at the rift, panicked. The rift opens wider as it grows, stretching the space it commandeers. A figure appears and steps out of the rift. A regal looking man who was certainly not Alan.

“Finally! I thought I was going to have to haunt this child for years before he resorted to this,” the regal man says almost flippantly. As if we were barely worth his attention.

“Wh-who are you?” Kevin asks visibly shaking.

“None of your concern,” the man flicks his wrist and sends Kevin splattering on one of the walls.

Everyone screams in horror but almost as if they were too scared to move, stay in place. The man scans all of us and stops on me.

“Curious, what are you. Nigh a witch nor wizard. Something else. And something familiar,” the man regards me for a bit, but as if something calls to him. “There you are,” he turns his attention to the stairs he then quickly ascends.

“What the hell did I do?” was all I could muster. I run up the steps after the man determined to find out who he is and how to send him back.

I hear screams before I reach the top and run faster. The man had killed two more of my classmates, decapitating one and crumbling the other in a ball. I run through the ajar front door just in time to see the man fly off.

“Where are you going?” I whisper to myself.

“We have to find him,” I whipped around to see Auron and Alex behind me. “I asked you to do this, so it’s on me too.”

“But where is he going?” Alex asks, frantic.

I look back in the direction he flew and think about what could’ve caught his attention. My eyes widen, “I know where he is going, given the direction he flew. Quick, hold on to me.”

Auron grabs my shoulder and Alex looks reluctant. Something musters within her, and she grabs the other shoulder.

“Home,” I shout and the world warps as we disappear from in front of Auron’s home and reappear in front of mine.

“You’re really a goddamn wizard,” Alex exclaims before losing her two plus shots. Auron joins her.

“Sorry, that is a little disorienting. And yes, sort of. I just use magic user.”

“That’s fucking wicked. Despite all of this,” Auron speaks between heaving.

I look and my front door is ajar, “Shit... He’s here already.”

“What does he want?” Auron asks.

“I’m not completely sure, yet.”

We enter my way too quiet home. Usually Grams is either playing music, the brooms are sweeping by themselves, or some magic creature is destroying the house. But nothing...

“Grams,” I call out.

“Oh, she’s back here,” a voice says back to me.

The three of us hurry to the kitchen where I heard the man. There he stood with my Grams suspended in the air through magic.

“Grams!”

“Aht aht,” she shakes his finger as I begin to run over. I stop in my tracks; in fear he may hurt her.

“Grams, huh,” he muses. “What an interesting development. If this witch is your grandma, then that makes you my kin,” he lets out a musing yet sinister laugh.

“Grams, what is he saying?”

“Unfortunately,” she struggles to speak, “Your mother fell in love with this sinister man, to my dismay. This is your father, Ailyn LaFaye. One of the great descendants of Morrigan. And just as mad.”

“Oh you, praise me, Ageela Emyrs. Huh, so I had a child before two banished me?”

“Emyrs, like Merlin,” Auron asks. Alex and I look at him surprised. “What, I like Arthurian lore.”

“Yes, the very one. We are descendants of both. Forever at war until Trystal and me. Until you poisoned her against me, Ageela.”

“You wanted to use this child as a vessel for Morrigan’s return. We wouldn’t allow it.”

“And now look,” he points to me.

“You did the work for me to raise the perfect vessel for her! I’ve not felt power from someone since, well ever! Come child of mine, exchange your life for this old one,” he beckons me over.

“Qui, Torrin,” Grams shouts.

“Qui,” Alex questions.

Qui, or banishment. It’s one of the first spells Grams taught me after mom’s death. She must have known this was a possibility. It’s one of the few spells I know by heart. I begin to recite the spell. Ailyn looks curious and then realization washes over him. He turns his full attention to me, letting Grams go. Free, she recites a spell that causes chains to rip from the walls, ceiling and floor of the kitchen. They suspend Ailyn in the air. As I continue reciting the incantation, I hand some chalk from the counter to Auron.

“Draw a circle around him.”

Auron quickly moves to draw the circle. Between chants I direct Alex to light three of the tall red candles in the kitchen.

Ailyn laughs maniacally pulling at the chains, “This won’t work again!”

Once Alex lights the last candle, she’s almost singed as flames shoot up and the wind howls.

“No. No, no!” Ailyn is frantic as he tries to break free.

A purple rift opens behind him and I chant louder.

“Noooooo!”

“Nice meeting you, pop. I guess,” I say as Grams pulls her arms inward and Ailyn into the rift. I stop my chant and the rift blinks out of existence.

I look over to make sure Alex and Auron are good who give me a thumbs up.

“We have a lot to discuss, Grams,” she looks at me exasperated and waves me off.

“Uh, us too,” Auron exclaims. I perform the same gesture.

At school on Monday, I could see the whispers about Friday on my way to lunch.

“Torrin,” I hear someone yell once I walk in. Auron beckons me over to where he and Alex sit; my first clique.