Magic is a powerful thing. At least that's what all the stories told me when I was growing up. From the old grimm fairy tales where witches would place curses and summon massive fire storms, to the Celtic tales of tricksters and forest fae, deceiving folk into giving up more than they bargained for. Nowadays, they are considered myths or legends and disregarded as mere folk tales. But they are wrong.
Magical energy exists. Its power is hidden and faint, but can still be found by those who know how. It builds in places of great emotion and death or where the wild still holds sway. Now these places are rarer than they used to be. Pollution, global warming, and the concrete jungles we live in have disrupted the places where natural magic once gathered.
The locations where magical energy gathers affect what type of magic it is suited for. For example, a volcano is a huge reservoir of natural magic. This magic will work best when used for destruction and fire rather than healing magic. On the other hand, graveyards work best for curses and other types of dark magic while hospitals can build up a small, yet potent power for healing.
Anyway, this is my story. The story of how a young man found the world of magic and began to train in its ways.
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Jacob winced as yet again his opponent "missed" the hard ball and ended up bruising his shins with the hard, wooden, shinty stick. Biting back the string of swear words dancing on the tip of his tongue and holding back the urge to do the same back to the bully he let the ball get carried away. His shins were already a mass of aches and bruises from similar strikes and the teacher was none the wiser. "Or they just didn't care," surfaced in the form of an unbidden thought to Jacob's mind as he limped over to the pitch side. The sardonic grin on the bully's face did little to hide his pride at making Jacob leave the pitch. Sighing, Jacob limped his way back to the dressing room, leaving his stick beside the store room to be put inside by the end of class.
On his way, Jacob considered the reason why he was bullied. He was neither tall nor short; fat nor thin. He wasn't especially smart, nor was he especially dumb. He was just normal and unimpressive. Maybe it was his attitude. He never liked violence. He just didn't have the temperament for it. Maybe that made him an easy target. "Or maybe it's just high school, " he thought grimly as he reached the changing room.
Jacob slowly began to get changed from his gym tee and joggers, to the school uniform of grey dress trousers: white, short sleeve shirt and his school tie. He took a look at his ankles, and noted the purple blotches that were beginning to appear along with some swelling, and silently cursed. This was going to make today a hassle. Putting his gym clothes back into his bag and spraying deodorant onto both the clothes in the bag and himself, he made his way out of the class and towards the toilet, where he could hide out away from teachers and his classmates before the bell rang in 10 minutes.
Jacob entered the men's room and sighed. The place was a mess, and he made sure not to put his bag on the floor directly by placing it on the cistern while he sat on the toilet seat. He was thinking about his next English class when he heard something move. Making sure the door was locked, Jacob lifted his feet to hide his presence and then listened silently. The movements of the newcomer were shuffling, and there was a hesitance about it. Then something shifted. It was like a filter on the world had changed and a deep pink glow seemed to come from outside Jacob's stall. A whispered voice murmured, too low for Jacob to make out what was said, but the glow grew stronger. Jacob could feel the energy crackling around him like static electricity and arousal began flowing through his body. It was rather intoxicating, causing him to want even more. He took a deep breath and began to feel more power flowing into him.
The voice stops as it realizes that the power it was channeling was being siphoned away. It then moves to the stall door, and with a steady kick. burst the door open, only to be met by Jacob humming with power and lust.
Jacob looks at the French exchange student and immediately sees through the disguise. Two months ago, Steven Patterson had run out of school after a bully had tricked him into eating a chocolate bar laced with a laxative, and then when the inevitable happened, had spread it around school. Two weeks later, Sven Pascal had started school on a French Exchange Programme. The transformation was startling. From a 5 foot 6 inch, overweight nerd with pasty skin and rotten acne all over his face, to a 5 foot 9, muscled, and heavily accented version of a school girl's fantasy, but now the illusion was like tissue paper to Jacob who saw the sweaty nerd under it all. Drunk on power, he shattered the illusion with a wave of his hand, making Steven flinch and then squeak in terror.
"Hello Steven. Nice illusion. Shame reality can't meet fantasy. Hmmm?" said Jacob, his voice influenced by the magic, causing it to have the quality of honey. Sweet, thick, and able to stick to almost anything. Steven moaned softly as the voice slipped into his mind and wouldn't let go.
