Introduction
Hello readers! I have been a reader on this site for a while now, but I've never written anything for it (until now)! Since this is my first submission, I felt the need to write a short introduction to overview the type of story I want to tell, and to let out a few disclaimers. First things first, I write scientific papers for a living. That means that I
do
know how to write (I promise), but it is a very different beast from writing fiction. With that in mind, it might take a few chapters before my style and voice normalizes a bit, so bear with me.
Secondly, even though this story has plenty of sexy times, I am intending for it to have a good driving plot. So, if you don't like stories, sorry. Finally, this is a story that has been in my head for a few years now, and my plan is for this to be a novel-length tale, so if you don't want to stick around for the long haul you might want to look elsewhere.
This is a story about Hal Denyra, a normal, average, everyday Texan teenager in his first year of college. Except that college is a secret Academy in the UK that teaches him magic. In this story, magic is intended to grant the user all kinds of advantages over 'normal' people, but not to make the user invincible, godlike, or 'OP'. In other words, Hal is magic, but still very vulnerable and subject to real life problems. If you know your way around young-adult fantasy literature from a few years back (okay maybe like 10), then magic in this universe is more like the book 'Eragon' than 'Harry Potter'.
This first submission contains the prologue and chapter one of my story. Chapter one contains a fair bit of background in the form of flashbacks. I do not intend for this to be a regularly occurring theme, and most of the story will be told in the present. So, without further ado, enjoy the ride! Critical feedback is welcome.
*****
Part I. The Sorcerer's Apprentice
Prologue: Dreamscape
Hal floated. Or at least, he felt like he was floating. It really was hard to tell with the bright, white, completely formless environment that surrounded him. Truth be told, there really wasn't even a 'him'. He was more like a detached consciousness, an impartial observer, than anything else. Just as he was thinking that he wasn't much of an observer without anything to observe, his straining ears picked up some faint sounds. Moaning, if he was right. As he listened, the moaning grew louder, more distinct, and at this point he knew it
was
moaning.
Looking around for the source, he finally found an indistinct speck among the formless white. Once he locked his eyes on it, he began to draw closer, and what he saw surprised him. Laying on white nothingness, back arched, mouth open and screaming, was his girlfriend. Not like he remembered her though; her features seemed more refined, more ethereal than he remembered. Overcoming his initial shock and seeing someone so familiar in this strange place, he realized that she was being brought to extreme pleasure by the athletic man kneeling between her legs. For some odd reason, the sight of him did
not
shock Hal. The man's back was facing Hal, but he was obviously doing things to Ally that Hal never could, but strangely this fact didn't upset him either. In fact, the only thing that seemed to bother Hal was the fact that they seemed to be consummating their pleasure on complete nothingness, which of course physics would never allow.
Even as the thought began to trouble him, their surrounding slowly materialized. Ally's small form was sprawled in the center of a small double bed with her legs up on the man's shoulders. The man was pistoning with smooth powerful motions, and from the length of his strokes he must have been quite an impressive specimen. The bed stood against the wall in a small bedroom, with a little writing desk in the corner. Hal recognized the desk, and the laptop on it, as belonging to Ally. The style of the room's décor was hers as well, but he didn't recognize it. It must be her room, but not at her parents' house; perhaps her dorm room at Texas A&M.
The room solidified around Hal as his viewpoint entered the confines of the small bedroom, but his perspective continued to move towards the impassioned couple, eventually moving past them. As he passed, his perspective wheeled, and he saw the man's face for the first time. With another shock, Hal realized that the man was himself, but much more toned than in reality. The weapon he was using to cause Ally to scream incoherent profanities was much less impressive in reality as well, much to Hal's chagrin. Hal could sense the change as fantasy Hal's thrusts became slower but much more forceful. There was no outward sign, but he knew the moment they climaxed together, and the next instant he was awake in his bed, drenched in sweat, panting, and as hard as a bar of wrought iron.
Chapter 1: Ruminations
"I feel my heart ache, but I've forgotten what that feeling means."
-Chuck Palahniuk, 'Choke'
Hal was completely discombobulated as he began the two-mile hike from his apartment to the Academy where he studied. The first quarter-mile or so through the town was easy enough, but then he had to turn onto a backcountry trail that climbed another mile and a half through the rolling Welsh landscape to the Academy campus. It wasn't the dream that had him so out of sorts though. The dream had been intense, and sexy, as evidenced by his state on waking up, but he didn't remember a single detail about it.
There had been a few snatches of detail that he had tried to hold on to, but like his warm breath when he exhaled in the cold morning air, those too dissipated into nothingness. No, what had Hal Denyra so wound up were the tumultuous thoughts of the past few months that wrecked his usual mental serenity like the bull in the proverbial china shop. Hal was pragmatic, and usually lived firmly in the moment. He would spare just enough brainpower on the future to have a solid plan for his life (or at least he did before his life got put in a rock tumbler), but he
never
spared an iota of thought on the past. It wasn't that he didn't have some pretty great memories, he just believed that it wasn't practical to dwell on ancient history.
Given his aversion to retrospection, Hal usually had enough control over his thoughts to combat his brain's occasional attempt to dwell on the past. That was why this morning's unstoppable highlight reel of last summer was so unusual and had him so on edge. It had all started good enough; his and Ally's twin acceptance letters to Texas A&M meant that he could pursue his chemistry degree at a good school and continue to see his One True Love as often as he wanted. Not only that, but his best friend would be just a few short hours away at UT Austin (although why
anyone
would
willingly
attend such a place was beyond him). On the night he graduated from Plano West High School, he had also lost his virginity to Ally. That had sparked about two months of magical summer love involving bowling nights, days spent at the lake, and enough sex to exhaust a couple of rabbits. Then in mid-July, when excitement for college was bringing him and Ally to new heights, he had been invited to dinner by his mother.
Hal's mom and dad divorced when he was twelve, and by all accounts she should have had full custody of him. She was the owner of a big cyber security firm, and so had a lot of money. She had an expansive house in the same neighborhood as most of the Dallas Cowboys and Mavericks. She wasn't a terrible mother, even if she wasn't the most loving either. Of course, none of that mattered when she showed up to divorce court and told everyone present (including the judge and Hal) that she "didn't want a damn thing to do with the little brat."
Hal's father deserved every mug and tee shirt emblazoned with "World's Best Dad" in the years to follow, and the substantial child support payments the judge ordered from Hal's mom made sure they were comfortable. Hal and his dad packed up and moved into a small townhouse in Plano, and never looked back. It was something of a shock then when Hal came home from lunch with Ally one day in July to see his mother in the driveway talking to his obviously uncomfortable dad. He had gotten out of his old beat up Honda Civic and told to shower, put on some nice clothes, and get ready for a dinner out. He was in the passenger seat of his mother's BMW heading south on Highway 75 before he knew what was happening.
"Uhh what's going on?" Hal managed to ask as they passed Texas Instruments.
His mother's reply dripped with contempt "Don't you utter 'uhhhhh' in my presence again, no son of mine is going to talk like an illiterate buffoon."
Hal, his ire rising, shot back "Oh I didn't realize you were acknowledging our relationship these days." Sandra MacNair, Hal's mother, shot him the same glare that had earned her the moniker 'Ice Queen of Cyberspace.' Despite the unblinking gaze, her car never strayed a millimeter from the center of her lane. Hal decided that he was okay spending the rest of the ride in silence.
***
The Ice Queen sat in a booth across the table from her son in measured silence. She regretted her harsh treatment of him in the car, but she was on edge. Today was critically important. Furthermore, she knew the conversation she was about to have with Hal was going to end badly, so might as well embrace the role of villain. She knew her son had no appreciation of fine dining after so many years with his father, but she refused to slum it at some dive joint, so she had tried to compromise by choosing a trendy upscale Mexican place in uptown. It was good food, and she hoped the Mexican fare would do enough to bridge the gap with her son so that he would at least be receptive to her speech. "Harold..." she tried to begin, but he cut her off at once.
"Don't call me that. I hate that name. Everyone calls me Hal." She meted out another dose of silence as the waiter delivered her margarita.
"Fine...Hal..." she tried to start, but he cut across her again:
"You know what, never mind. Only people I like call me Hal. You better stick to Harold." If Sandra could freeze a room with her eyes, her son could melt it with the inferno behind his.
Sandra was quiet for a few more minutes before she spoke again. This time, she would brook no interruption. "Listen, you obviously have repressed rage or sorrow or something pent up inside you ready to let it all out at me. Save it for the therapist. I'm not here for redemption, or to win your love, or whatever bullshit reason you think I brought you out here for. I brought you here because I have important information regarding your heritage, your birthright, and your future. So, you can either shut your insolent mouth and listen, or you can walk out of here woefully unprepared for what is about to happen to you."
