narratorofworlds

[narratorofworlds]

The Warlock - Episode 2: Awakening

Jason closed his eyes tight. He was ready to engage in yet another battle with his subconscious in order to preserve his memories of the dream he just woke up from. To his surprise, however, this dream didn't seem to fade like the others. In fact, it didn't feel like a dream at all. He could recall every detail with clarity as if it had just occurred minutes ago.

The door to his room flung open.

"Yo! Everything good dude? I haven't seen you since this morning."

Jason turned to face his roommate. Neil was wearing his favorite date outfit: a red shirt with a black bomber jacket over dark gray skinny jeans.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a tiring day." Jason croaked.

"I feel ya man. How did the exam go?" Neil asked with a hopeful expression.

"Cake walk." Jason said, yawning.

"See?! I told you it was easy bro! You gotta stop stressing about everything"

Jason dragged himself off the bed and turned his neck sideways, wincing.

I was more stressed about you taking 20 minutes to shit. Jason said internally, lightly smirking.

"Tell ya what man, Tina and I are about to go out for dinner. Why don't you join us? Gotta celebrate the wins, amirite?" Neil said, grinning. He spoke with both his voice and his eyebrows.

Jason was tempted by Neil's offer but he knew it would be tough as he had way too much to do tonight. Most importantly, he'd promised his boss that he would work night shift today as the team was significantly understaffed.

"Wish I could man but I'm patrolling tonight."

"AGAIN?!" Neil exclaimed with an over-dramatic eye roll. "Dude, they better be paying you a fuck ton of money given all the OT you work." Neil sounded like he was about ready to pick a fight with Jason's boss.

"The pay's good." Jason assured Neil. "They scored a pretty hefty contract with Queen Industries for their NYC office. Some big R&D project going on there so they've really tightened up security."

Neil nodded carefully then shook his head.

"Well, in case you change your mind, I'll text you the address. Just pop in whenever. We'll probably be there until 9." Neil gave Jason a reassuring smile.

"Thanks man. Have fun." Jason nodded.

His roommate left, closing his door behind him.

Jason made his way to the wooden desk in his room, which was stationed up against the wall. He rolled out his chair and positioned it behind him, then carefully sat in it. He used his legs to paddle himself toward the desk and turned on his desk lamp. The bulb of his lamp glowed a bright amber color and illuminated the surface of his desk. Jason reached toward his right and pulled out a drawer that was attached to his desk. He flipped through a few books until he found a black composition notebook. He grabbed the notebook from the drawer and lightly dropped it onto the desk and proceeded to push the drawer back to its original place.

Jason stared at the cover of the notebook. Physics I: Mechanics.

He took a sharpie from his pencil holder, opened the cap, and struck through the title. Above the original title, Jason wrote: Dream Journal. He opened the book and flipped through it. Only the first two pages had any writing in them - notes from his first two physics lectures. Jason gripped the two pages tightly and pulled outward, ripping them out of the notebook.

Jason wrote in the header, above the top-most line: 10/3/2025

Below it, he began writing everything he could remember in the form of bullet points:

The dream looked like it took place in a medieval setting.

I was held captive for committing a crime.

They kept calling me--

Jason paused. What did they call me? He winced as he tried to remember. Why wasn't he able to recall such a pivotal detail? Jason closed his eyes and replayed the dream in his head.

You deserve a lot worse than this, Y--

Yehvur, Jason wrote down. They called me Yehvur. He continued writing more details that came to mind.

There was a guillotine in front of me.

I was being charged with murdering the King. I was going to be publicly executed as my punishment.

I was brought up to the scaffold.

Jason stared at his notes. He then began to re-read them to ensure he didn't miss any crucial details, stopping again at the last line: I was brought up to the scaffold.

Was that it? Did the dream end there? He couldn't remember what happened afterward. Did he die?

No....I'm definitely missing something. Jason thought to himself. What else happened?

Jason ran his fingers through his long, black hair. He was way overdue for a haircut. Focus. Jason thought to himself.

He continued to replay the events in his mind. Jason remembered being flooded with memories as he walked toward the guillotine. He remembered beginning a final prayer to the Sun goddess, but the prayer was interrupted by--

Cawing. Jason's eyes widened, his pen lightly trembling in his hand. The crow -- its eyes. It was the same crow I saw--

Thunder crackled in the distance. Rain poured onto the roof of the building. Jason turned his head to look out the window.

The sky was a grim, dark gray. There was just enough street light for Jason to have a clear view of his balcony. Perched on the ledge was the Crow.

Jason stared into its majestic eyes. As his gaze intensified, he felt the violet hue shroud him - reeling him in. Soon, the violet light from its eyes was all he could see.

Screams.

Police sirens blaring

Jason walked up to his window and pulled back the curtain to investigate.

Flames.

Smoke.

The Corner Deli - only two blocks away from his apartment complex - was ablaze. People were gathered in the streets, wailing in anguish and fear.

Then he saw them. Insect-like humanoids with wings. Flying about - many carrying corpses. Demons. Jason thought. Then he paused. Wait, how did I know that?

As Jason shifted his gaze upward, he came to a grave realization: it wasn't just his block - the entirety of Manhattan was in flames.

The screams became louder as Jason's vision began to blur.

Jason woke up in a shudder, causing him to drop his pen onto the carpet next to his chair. He was back at his desk. He looked out the window. The flames were gone. The screams were gone. The sky remained a dark gray, but the crow was no longer there.

Thunder continued to crackle in the distance.

************************************************************************

Jason's shift that night at the Queen Industries building was, for the most part, uneventful. No crazy visions. No sightings of magical crows. Hell, he even got a decent amount of his Calc homework done. The only mildly interesting occurrence was when his coworker James was convinced that the building was haunted as one of the CCTV cameras showed footage of a silhouette floating across the main lobby. After carefully inspecting the camera, Jason realized that the so-called "ghost" was just a piece of plastic wrap that the field tech forgot to remove prior to installing the camera. Upon removing it, the ghost had supposedly left to haunt another corporate building.

As Jason unlocked and opened the door to his unit, the smell of chow mein filled his nostrils. He saw the empty grocery bag with the logo of Golden Dragon - one of his favorite Chinese restaurants. Damn. I missed out. Jason thought.

Jason opened the fridge and grabbed a can of soda. He held the can in his palm, feeling the cold aluminum pulse through his arm. Jason stared at the can, second guessing whether caffeine was really a good idea at this hour.

Nah, I should sleep, he thought.

Jason opened the fridge and put the can back in the fridge. As he placed the can back in the door of the refrigerator, he noticed another Golden Dragon grocery bag on the middle shelf of the fridge - this one, however, was tied shut with a knot. It had a sticky note on top. Jason removed the sticky note and read it. U owe me :).

You're a beast, Neil. Jason smiled and grabbed the meal, along with the can of soda he had previously put back into the fridge.

After finishing his dinner, Jason popped an antacid tablet. He was well aware of the consequences of eating takeout this late. He then went to the bathroom to brush and get ready for bed.

Jason opened the door of his room slowly and cautiously - as if expecting an entity waiting for him on the other side. He walked toward his bed and quickly changed into his PJ's. Jason then turned off the lights to his room, ensuring that both his room's and the living room's lights were off.

He grabbed his phone to check the time. 2 AM. I need to sleep if I even dream of waking up in time for Physics lecture tomorrow.

Jason opened the Clock app and set alarms for 8:00, 8:15, 8:30, 8:45, and 8:55 each with a more infuriating alarm tone than the last. He plopped onto his bed and took a deep breath. His eyes felt heavy. They began closing as if they had a mind of their own. He initially struggled to keep them open - but soon realized he had no reason to.

************************************************************************

Jason was in what appeared to be a living room - perhaps a studio apartment. The room was nice and tidy - unlike his and Neil's. There was a young woman in front of him, sitting on the sofa of the living room. She had chocolate brown hair and was wearing a dark purple jacket with yoga pants. Jason couldn't see her face as his line of sight was fixed behind her right shoulder. He couldn't quite make out where he was relative to the room, nor could he adjust his gaze. It felt as if he was stuck inside a wall that the sofa was up against.

The woman in front of him picked up her phone and unlocked it via facial recognition. She tapped on a green square with a white speech bubble - the logo for the built-in LexPhone messenger app - and tapped on the conversation at the top of the screen. With each tap, her slightly extended nails made a light clacking sound.

Jason read the bold heading centered at the top of the screen indicating the contact name: Jenna. He looked down to see the bottom message on the woman's phone.

Jenna: Yaevor will be awake soon.

The young woman started clacking away at the digital keyboard and then tapped the upward-facing arrow positioned at the top right of the keyboard. The phone played a light tone indicating the message was sent.

How do you know?

An animated speech bubble with three dots appeared, indicating that Jenna was typing.

Ting. A new message bubble appeared below, pushing the previous two slightly upward.

Jenna: I just know, Maggie.

How do we find him?

Jenna: We can't. He needs to find us when he's ready.

What if she gets to him first?

Jenna: She won't. Trust me.

There was a pause. Ting. Another message bubble.

Jenna: The invasion could start any day now. We need the Warlock.

Jason re-read the last words of Jenna's message: We need the Warlock.

He felt a current running through him accompanied by a light vibration.

The Warlock.

The vibration began to intensify and escalated into a torrent of sensations, sprawling all across his body.

The once crystal-clear scene of the young woman in the living room began to blur.

Jason's vision began to flicker. With each flicker, the scene changed - the sensations changed.

Jason opened his eyes. He was met with a large, pale face with sea blue eyes and blonde hair. She was laughing, tearfully. Jason felt an inexplicable warmth. Another large face appeared next to hers - black hair, brown eyes. He was carrying the same tearful smile.

Jason blinked.

When he opened his eyes again, the scene had changed: A young girl, black hair. She held up a doll to Jason's face, shaking it. Jason laughed and the girl blushed. When Jason opened his eyes again, she was gone and the scene changed again.

His life was flashing before his eyes. Except - it wasn't his life.

Jason opened his eyes. The once gray stone pavement was now stained crimson. His knees grew sore as he knelt down in front of his home in Jeweler's Row - where he'd spent his entire life. His eyes were dried from hours of weeping. His mother and father lay dead next to him - executed. Their only crimes were being devotees of Mersól. Yaevor stared into his mother's eyes. A deep, majestic blue. Her once golden blonde hair now had streaks of burgundy. He closed his eyes, brushing his face up against hers to feel her fading warmth.

Jason opened his eyes again, staring at the wooden floor beneath him. His arms were sore from another dreadful day of cleaning the castle. The scent of soap was ever present. Yaevor shook his head. It had been three years since his parents' demise but it still felt like yesterday. He dipped the mop in his hand into the bucket of soapy water and began dragging the mop head across the floor. As Yaevor passed by the kitchen, he took a deep breath as the sweet aroma of freshly baked fruit bread filled his nostrils. He closed his eyes again to savor the scent.

The scent slowly became tainted with that of smoke. Jason opened his eyes in a flash of panic, realizing he'd burnt one of the loaves of fruit bread. He knew he was going to get an ass beating for this. Fruit bread was incredibly expensive and delicate. He grabbed the large steel oven peel and carefully slid the loaf out, placing it on a wooden board next to the oven. Ashes fell from the sides of the loaf. He closed his eyes, attempting to regain focus. He had spent the last few years working his way up from cleaner to cook - and he wasn't about to throw it all way for nothing.

Jason opened his eyes to loud chatter. The warm tavern was dimly lit yet bustling with life. He took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of freshly baked meat pie and sweet, fermented mead. It was his first night as a city guard and there was no better way to celebrate than a large mug of ale with his closest friends: Harald and Brynn. And, of course, some coarse rye bread to go along with it. He closed his eyes as he took a large, gaping bite.

Jason opened his eyes. The cream-colored bed sat nested atop a wooden bed frame with golden embroidery. Its crimson curtain was nearly indistinguishable from the pool of blood seeping from the woman in his arms. Yaevor slowly shifted his gaze downward toward her. He instantly recognized the face of his lover. Kaara. Her limp body lay motionless, with her eyes locked in an upward gaze. Yaevor's dark expression matched her lifelessness. They killed her inside the brothel - they didn't even have the mercy to give her a proper execution. He examined the letters etched onto her neck: WITCH. He pulled Kaara's lifeless body close to his and closed his eyes to utter a prayer to Mersól.

Jason opened his eyes. The walls were caked with gray bricks. A flag hung from the ceiling at intervals of roughly 2-3 feet, each carrying the same design: A deep red background with a golden outline of a raven engulfed in flames - the famous emblem of Brimhold. Yaevor's examination of the throne room was interrupted by the booming voice of Garrick - the High Commander of the King's Guard. Yaevor knelt before King Emrys. The man who took everything from him. At the High Commander's direction, Yaevor made an oath to Aldric - the God of Fire, War, and Armory - vowing to protect King Emrys with his life. Unbeknownst to the witnesses, his fingers were crossed throughout the duration of the oath. Yaevor closed his eyes and made his real oath. Not to Aldric, but rather to the fire deity's nemesis - his sister, Mersól. The Revered Lady. Goddess of the Sun. He vowed to kill King Emrys one day and make him pay for his sins.

Jason opened his eyes. The royal bedroom was dark. The walls were decorated with heads of wild game that Emrys had slain. The Queen lay next to her husband - her gown soaked in blood. Brynn was sure to give her a humane and merciful death. The same would not be said for Emrys. The King coughed blood onto Yaevor's blade. Yaevor grabbed Emrys by the reddish-brown hair on the back of his head and stared deep into his amber-colored eyes as he slowly drove the blade further into his chest. The King let out another painful cough of blood. His eyes began to drift away from Yaevor's as his body grew limp. Yaevor sighed and let go of the hilt of his blade. He sat upright against the side of the bed and closed his eyes. The deed had been done. Yaevor awaited his judgement.

Jason opened his eyes to the cawing of a crow sitting on the lunette of the guillotine. Stone pavement. A crowd was gathered around the town square. The crowd consisted of both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Guards. Citizens. Some from Jeweler's Row - who likely knew his parents. Others who lived in cities neighboring Raven's Landing, the capital of Brimhold. Foreigners whom he didn't recognize - likely merchants who traveled to Brimhold for trade. Yaevor heard another caw and looked up at the crow. It almost felt as if the crow was warning him of his impending death. Yaevor smiled and looked deep into the crow's eyes, which seemed to emit an odd violet hue. Yaevor blinked hard in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Jason opened his eyes to screaming and looked up. The sky turned an eerie grayish blue. The once faint smell of blood was now pungent and ever-present. Dark, shadowy figures slowly treaded through the town square. A guard ran up to one and attempted to swing at it with his mace, but was instantly impaled by a shadowy blade. Yaevor looked ahead at the guillotine, then turned to look over his left shoulder, noting the petrified guard holding the chain to his restraints. Now was his chance. He swung his right knee counter-clockwise - snapping upward - slamming it into the guard's groin. The guard let out a muffled bellow as he fell to his knees, grabbing his nether region in agony. As the guard struggled to get up, Yaevor delivered a swift kick to his helmet, rendering him unconscious. Yaevor quickly located the keys to his restraints and unlocked the manacles. He then grabbed a dagger from the belt of the guard, and darted toward the city gates. As he passed through the produce market, he stopped in his tracks as he heard an agonizing scream. He turned toward his right and saw a young, blond haired woman half-sitting, half-laying down on the pavement. She slowly backed away from a man lurching toward her with a leering grin. Yaevor gripped his dagger tightly and ran towards the scene.

Jason opened his eyes and examined the interior of the small cottage. It had the warmth of a tavern, yet felt small and intimate - much like his home back in Jeweler's Row. His gaze lowered and was met with the smile of the young, blond-haired woman sitting across from him. It had been two months since he and Loren had escaped the destruction of Brimhold. Yaevor inhaled deeply, allowing the aroma of the hearty stew Loren's mother had made for him to fill his lungs. He was grateful to the family for letting him stay at their farm in Rothshire - and especially grateful to Loren as, without her, he wouldn't have been allowed entry into the Kingdom of Luthar. Yaevor was eager to continue helping Loren's father work the fields and hunt. He could build a simple, humble life here - it was all he could ever ask for. He took a bite of the stew and closed his eyes, savoring the fresh meat.

Jason opened his eyes, feeling Loren's short gasps of breath on his chest as she sobbed. He held her tight in his embrace. Yaevor knew her feeling all too well. He stared ahead, above her shoulder. The once peaceful, weathered cottage was now engulfed in flames. He closed his eyes. Why? What had he done to deserve this life of anguish and suffering? Yaevor began to feel as if, wherever he traveled, death and despair were sure to follow suit. His sorrow quickly grew into anger as he vowed to avenge Loren's parents.

Jason opened his eyes to screams. He was on the ground, covered in both mud and blood. Another fat humanoid toad slowly lurched out of the swamp. The toagrims had him and the other city guards surrounded. One of the toagrims let out a gut-wrenching roar that sounded more like a loud burp as greenish-brown saliva spewed from its mouth. Yaevor couldn't stand the notion that these vile swamp-dwellers were going to be his end. His fearful gaze was intercepted by a blue cloak and brown leather garments. Yaevor looked up. A young woman with blonde hair had stepped in front of him, shielding him from the creatures. The imperial crest of Luthar was etched onto the back of her cloak in gold - a majestic lion staring forward with a fierce gaze, standing at the heart of a golden shield. With an inexplicable grace, the young woman quickly weaved hand gestures and spoke in what sounded like an ancient, forgotten language. The water from the swamp rose and slammed into the creatures - launching them back into the mossy waters. Yaevor stared at her in awe. He made a painful grimace as he attempted to stand.

Jason opened his eyes as he stood up, tossing aside the yarn in frustration. The interior of the chamber took on a plum color as the warm amber glow of the candles imbued the once violet walls. Yaevor huffed angrily. He had spent countless hours trying to weave the spell seal for spark - a rudimentary spell that even the most novice mage could cast with ease. He was at the verge of giving up. His mind simply wasn't made for sorcery. Why was he trying so hard to be something he wasn't? Sylvenna rested her hand on Yaevor's shoulder - her warmth soothed him. She reminded him that it takes even the most gifted students at the College years to learn Weaving at a basic level. Yaevor picked up the yarn again, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

Jason opened his eyes, exhaling. His pounding heart was ready to burst out of his chest. It took everything in his power to concentrate, ignoring the bloodcurdling snarls of the gnoll. Gripping the remaining Fiber with his fingertips, Yaevor finished weaving the intricate seal for Precision Bolt. The completed seal hummed with a vibrant azure hue. Sylvenna shouted at him, begging him not to cast the spell. She warned him that he wasn't ready - that the spell could take an immense toll on him. He hesitated for a moment. Though he knew deep down that she was right, Yaevor could feel his rage taking over as he saw his lover wincing in pain. His thoughts were interrupted by the howl of the gnoll. It stretched its arm far behind its back, readying its blade to strike Sylvenna once again. Yaevor's vision quickly snapped into focus. Filled with adrenaline, he activated the seal and cast the spell. The seal condensed into a spiral of blue electricity, wrapping around Yaevor's hands. Yaevor glared at the gnoll with bloodthirsty eyes as he thrust his palm forward, sending a crackling bolt of lightning toward the creature. The gnoll shrieked and crashed onto to the grassy ground below. The smell of char filled the air. Yaevor dropped to his knees as his surroundings began to blur.

Jason opened his eyes to loud knocking. He was in his room at the Dark Horse Inn. Yaevor slowly shifted his torso to his left, dragging his legs off the side of the wooden frame of the bed. He walked toward the door to his room, grabbed the cold metal latch, and slid it to the left. The wooden door slowly creaked open. His tired, blurry vision began to clear up. He looked down at the short roundling standing in front of him. He wore a light brown wool tunic that was tailored for the short and bulky stature of a roundling. It was Habdo. Yaevor snapped awake and grabbed his friend's shoulders. His eyes began to moisten. He pled to Habdo, asking if he'd found anything. Any sightings or perhaps clues of Sylvenna's whereabouts. Habdo looked down in dismay and shook his head. Yaevor buried his face in his hands and wept.

Jason opened his eyes. He gazed around in awe at the cluster of huts and tents surrounding him. The Crow's Nest. Members of the tribe took turns to stop and glare at Yaevor before silently returning to their tasks. They were all dressed in black and their garments primarily consisted of crow feathers. A young druid walked up to Yaevor, holding a pot of liquid - his elongated black fingernails curled around it. He had long, black hair and wore the same crow-feathered garments. Yaevor stared into his eyes - his eyelashes were pronounced and his eyelids were painted black in a pattern that Yaevor had never seen before. Yaevor took the pot of hot liquid and took a sip. It wasn't ale, but the hot liquid seemed to produce an analogous, euphoric effect. Calming. Outside of the occasional glares, Yaevor was shocked by the tribe's hospitality - despite them knowing he was a citizen of the Kingdom. Yaevor stared at the grass in front of his feet, shaking his head in defeat. He couldn't do this. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't Emrys. Though, at the same time, he couldn't betray King Helion's orders. Yaevor took a deep breath and closed his eyes, once again seeking direction from the Revered Lady - whose rays were hidden behind clouds and trees.

Jason opened his eyes, trembling as he stared at the blood-soaked corpses. The golden crests on their breastplates gleamed under the sunlight. Yaevor felt the furious, unyielding glares of the lions searing into his conscience. Traitor. He murdered his own brothers in arms. To save....this tribe. Who he barely knew. Who saw him as an outsider and were likely plotting to sacrifice him to Morwyn. Why did he do this? Yaevor turned around at the sound of leaves and sticks crunching. Members of the tribe. The handful of druids examined the scene. They stared sharply at the pale and bloodied bodies. Then at Yaevor. Of the druids, a lady stepped forward. She had long, black hair and was wearing the same crow-feathered garments as the others, though more decorative and regal. Encircling her head was a crown of black feathers, woven into a ring. The Prophetess. She examined the corpses with a look of disbelief. As she turned her head to look at Yaevor, her expression morphed into that of respect - and gratitude. The other druids walked up to Yaevor, checking him for wounds. He looked up at the sun and closed his eyes, begging Mersól for forgiveness.

Jason opened his eyes to the smell of burning herbs. He was on the ground, sitting on a pile of leaves and sticks. The Prophetess was circling him, chanting in her ceremonial tongue. She stopped her movements and chants, standing directly in front of Yaevor. Her sharp facial features resembled that of a bird. Yaevor stared into her eyes, which glowed a violet hue that felt eerily familiar. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice was no longer that of her own. The possessed Prophetess spoke on behalf of Lady Morwyn - the Mother of Crows. She laid out the terms of the pact. Yaevor accepted. Morwyn - through the Prophetess - declared Yaevor as her Warlock and conduit. Yaevor closed his eyes and felt a new power surging through him.

Jason rubbed his eyes and opened them again. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The young woman stared back at him - her black, enchanting hair blowing in the whistling wind. She was wearing the same garments she always wore - a purple cloak over black leather. It was her. Sylvenna. His mentor. His long lost lover. His friend. Why was she here? Why was she among the Shadowkin? She glared at him. Her expression remained dark, as it shifted from a longing gaze to a dry smile. Yaevor's smile slowly faded as he understood. It was her. The entire time. She wasn't among the Shadowkin - she created them. As she began to speak, Yaevor began to realize that she was beyond power hungry - beyond evil. She believed they were fated to be together - that they were fated to rule together. That he needed to accept his fate. Yaevor closed his eyes tight, unsure whether to feel sorrow or anger.

Jason opened his eyes and stared deeply into the lifeless eyes of his lover, tears streaming down his cheeks. I'm sorry, Sylvenna. He held her close, having just slain his lover and best friend.

Jason opened his eyes. The smell of blood plagued the field outside the castle. The grass was a silverish-gray. Its once flourishing green hue had faded. There they laid. His comrades. Yaevor looked up and saw the perpetrator. A tall, muscular man with an olive skin tone. He gripped his large serrated blade tightly, which was dripping red. He was panting heavily, his face filled with rage and vengeance. Reyzan. Yaevor screamed in anger and agony. His once respected comrade was now reduced to a spineless puppet, driven mad by his lustful obsession with the Dark Witch - Sylvenna. Yaevor charged at his former friend in rage.

Jason opened his eyes. He looked up and saw the sky turning dark. It was as he predicted. Reyzan had risen from the depths of Shaedral to begin his destruction of Mordros. Yaevor gazed intently into the portal. It's swirling blue and green rays were humming with arcane energy. He breathed easy. Every single citizen of Luthar had made it through the portal. Habdo. Loren. His beloved daughter, Margrid. He turned his head toward Jeneyra, and looked deep into her majestic blue eyes. Her golden blonde hair fluttered in the wind. She was wearing her usual blue cloak, with brown leather garments. He nodded. They held hands and shared a final kiss. Yaevor watched assuringly as Jeneyra stepped into the arcane disc, disappearing into the void. Yaevor turned and glanced around one last time. Take it, Reyzan. It's all yours. He entered through the portal and everything went black.

Jason opened his eyes.

It was dark. He was back in his bed. He stared straight into his closet - though he wasn't looking at anything. He just stared.

#fanfic#fanfiction#urban fantasy#superhero#superheroes#comics#dc comics#dc universe#medieval fantasy#dc fanfic

[narratorofworlds]

The Warlock - Episode 1: A Chorus of Caws

Pitch black.

No...Not pitch black. That would imply that he was seeing. But there was nothing to see.

Nothing to hear.

Nothing to feel.

He was weightless - though he wasn't sure of even that. He wasn't floating, yet he wasn't resting on anything either.

No heartbeat.

No breathing.

He just....existed.

Is this death? Is this what it feels like? Jason wondered. No....I can't be dead if I'm still able to think.

Sound. Finally.

Voices. Two women. They must have been around his age. One had a lower, huskier tone - though only slightly. Jason assumed she was older but he wasn't sure.

They didn't sound close, but they didn't sound too far away either. It was as if their voices were echoing in the void.

Though he still saw nothing, their incoherent echoes began shaping into words. Then sentences.

"So...Is he awake yet?" the older woman asked.

"No." the other woman replied firmly.

"I thought you said he was right behind you when you went in."

"He was."

"So then when--"

"I don't know, Maggie!" the younger woman snapped. Jason could sense a fusion of frustration and worry in her voice. "There's still so much we don't understand."

He then heard what sounded like a deep breath.

"I just hope he made it through." The younger woman's voice had softened.

Silence -- again. Though this time only for a few seconds. Then he heard a sigh.

"Jenna, look. There's no poiiinn...." The older woman's voice distorted, reverting back to unintelligible echoes, slowly fading into the distance.

As her voice faded, Jason heard a faint beep.

Then silence.

Another beep. Louder this time.

Silence.

A third beep. Deafening.

Jason jolted awake and instinctively grabbed his phone.

I really gotta change that damn alarm tone. He thought as he hit the snooze button on the lock screen.

He sat up straight on his bed, his back against the headboard. He closed his eyes, trying his near best to recall the dream he just had - without falling back asleep. He could already feel the details slipping away.

Those voices...why did they sound so familiar? He pondered. Though he was certain he'd never heard them before, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the two women. Or at least had known at some point.

The details of the conversation began to fade from his memory, despite his best efforts to retain them. After a few seconds of excruciating difficulty, all he could remember was the last line.

I just hope he made it through. Jason repeated internally. Who was she talking about?

Jason hit the power button on the side of his phone to check the time. 8:47. He put the phone beside him and slowly turned, shifting his torso and dragging his legs off the side of the bed. Then, in a flash of realization, he grabbed his phone again to check the time.

8:47?! Jason's grogginess quickly evaporated as panic began to settle in. Shit. Calc 2 midterm. 9:30. SHIT.

Jason sprang out of bed and bolted for the bathroom, nearly tripping over the piles of dirty clothes cluttering the floor. He reached the door in record time, grabbed the handle, and yanked. Locked.

He yanked again. Still locked.

Jason began frantically slamming the bathroom door.

"NEIL! Neil, you almost done man?" Jason asked, desperation in his voice.

Jason heard a muffled reply.

"Dude, I literally just sat down to take a shit." His roommate sounded like he was in pain.

"Bro I got a Calc midterm in forty fucking minutes!" Jason pleaded.

Neil let out a sigh, which was followed by a loud, unpleasant noise.

"Jason, my guy, you cannot comprehend the sheer agony I'm going through right now. Remember the biryani we made last week? Yeah, we really gotta chill with the Thai chilis next time bro--"

"Neil, please"

"Almost done bro, I swear. Just start putting your clothes on and shit, and I'll be out in a flash."

Jason hurried back into his room and began frantically grabbing clothes from the carpet below and donning whatever looked (and smelled) decent.

Fuck showering, he thought. I'll just come back and shower after the exam.

"Caw...Caw"

Jason looked up and, through his window, saw a crow sitting on the ledge of his unit's balcony. It appeared to be staring back at him, almost mockingly.

"Shut up you stupid bird." He muttered. "Don't act like you're never late for class."

As Jason stared a bit closer into the crow's eyes, he noticed something different about it. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but it almost seemed like--

WHOOSH

Jason heard a loud flushing sound, which was followed by that of a faucet being turned on. Thank God. Jason thought as he rushed back toward the bathroom door.

The door unlocked and swung open. His roommate was wearing his usual gray sweatpants and pale blue gym shirt - which was covered in what appeared to be sweat. Neil walked out, shaking his head.

"Dude, is it just me or has my spice tolerance gone to shit?" Neil pondered as he took a seat on their dining table.

As Jason raced into the bathroom, Neil called out from behind. "Sorry in advance bro!"

Jason was confused by Neil's apology - that was until he entered the bathroom and immediately gagged at the smell. He sprayed air freshener everywhere and turned on the vent fan, leaving the door open for maximum ventilation.

Jason grabbed his brush and bottle of toothpaste and began brushing his teeth vigorously.

"Yo, that calc exam you were talking about. Is that MATH 122?" Neil called out from outside the bathroom.

"Yesh" Jason replied with the brush still in his mouth, which was covered in blue toothpaste foam from the rapid scrubbing.

"Ross or Chevsky?"

"Roph"

"Yeah, you'll be fine man. Tina took his class last sem and said his exams are a cake walk"

"Noff adone mwayekef enphaihm"

"What?!"

Jason spat out. "Not if I don't make it in time."

"You'll be fine bro! You still got..." there was a pause. "Oh shit...yeah, you should probably hurry man. It's almost 9."

Jason finished rinsing and spat out "Yeah I got that, thanks asshole."

Neil chuckled as Jason grabbed the red hand towel from the rack next to the sink and buried his face in it. Jason darted out of the bathroom door and headed toward his backpack, which was lying on the living room couch.

"Feel free to borrow my e-scooter man. You might need it." Neil offered, continuously turning as he spoke to keep up with Jason's frantic pacing around the apartment.

"Appreciate it, bro." Jason said as he started rummaging through his backpack, ensuring that he had at least a few mechanical pencils, erasers, and backup lead. Upon doing this, he zipped his bag back up, put on his favorite black hoodie, and slung his bag around his shoulder.

Finally, he grabbed his phone and headed toward the door. Neil was standing right beside it.

"Good luck, G. You got this." Neil said, saluting. He then opened the door for his roommate.

"Thanks man" Jason cracked a smile and bolted out of his unit.

************************************************************************

As he ran down the stairs, Jason checked the time on his phone. 9:05. Pushing it, but I should be fine. He decided to walk to avoid the hassle of having to find a spot to lock the e-scooter on campus.

As he stepped foot onto East 3rd street, he was hit with the usual explosion of sensations and was instantly reminded of why New York City is often called "the city that never sleeps".

Cars whizzing by to his left. Distant honking. The smell of yeast as he passed by Rise and Schmear - one of his favorite bagel shops. The pleasant aroma of espresso beans as he passed by Cuppa Addicts. Every block was filled with swaths of people, each having their own conversations. Some loud and boisterous, others quiet and intimate.

Though Jason did his best to absorb his surroundings, his mind kept coming back to the dream throughout the duration of the walk. The voices. Who were they? And why could he only hear voices?

As Jason approached Washington Square Park, he began to hear the whooshing sound of the fountain followed by the playful screams of kids. As he looked around, he saw groups of friends lining up to take pictures in front of the Arch.

He turned toward the Courant institute building and increased his pace to a brisk walk. As Jason began to approach campus, he began to hear the loud chatter of students as they entered and exited the NYU bookstore.

Jason finally walked into the lecture hall, panting to catch his breath. He glanced at his phone. 9:29.

He noticed most of the class was clustered toward the front so he found himself a nice spot in the back. As he started pulling out his utensils, he heard his name called.

"Mr. Adad! Good to see you decided to show up for today's midterm!"

Jason looked up toward his left and saw his calculus professor. Though Jason didn't know how old he was, he figured he was probably in his late forties. He had mostly dark brown hair, with a few streaks of gray. He was tall and slim, and was wearing a yellow sweater with a collared pale shirt underneath along with khakis below. He looked at Jason with his signature expression: creased forehead while still managing to crack a smile. He was carrying a stack of papers, in which every few pages were stapled together.

"Hey, Professor Ross"

The professor handed him a set of stapled pages.

"Good luck."

Jason smiled and nodded.

Jason flipped through the pages of the exam. Four problems. All ones he'd done before.

Neil's girlfriend wasn't kidding. Jason thought internally. You'd think they'd bother making the exam at least a little different from the practice tests.

He grabbed his pencil, pushed out enough lead to get through the test and began scribbling his name. As he was doing so, he couldn't help but let out a smirk. This is going to be easy.

Once he'd double checked his work, Jason got up from his desk to hand in the completed exam. He walked down the steps near his desk, toward the podium stationed at the front of the lecture hall, and dropped the packet on the top of the existing stack of completed exams.

He looked up at the Professor - who was standing behind the podium, hands in his pockets - and smiled. The professor didn't seem to notice - or perhaps didn't care. He then proceeded to awkwardly head back up the stairs toward the exit. As he made the trek back up the stairs, he checked the time on his phone. 10:10. Twenty minutes to spare...Not bad. He thought to himself.

After completing the exam, Jason headed to the Kimmel Student Center to catch up on the readings that he was supposed to do prior to the start of his Greek Mythology class - one of his favorites. Upon arriving, he was relieved to see that his favorite outdoor study spot was vacant. It was a balcony on the 6th floor of the building, facing Washington Square Park, providing a clear view of the Washington Square Arch, the fountain, as well as the surrounding trees.

Jason slowly walked toward the small table, pulled out the chair that was directly in front of him from underneath the table, and sat down in it. He carefully set his bag on the tiled floor next to him. Tilting his head upward slightly, Jason closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the cool and musty autumn air. He then opened his eyes slowly, staring out into the horizon, noting the juxtaposition of the luscious greenery - though now dominated by shades of red and amber - in the foreground as well as the forest of skyscrapers in the background.

"caw....caw"

He tilted his head slightly downward to the right. A crow. Go figure. It was sitting on the ledge a few feet away from him. Jason tilted his head a bit lower and began unzipping his bag.

"caw....caw"

Jason froze. That cawing. He slowly tilted his back up. Is that--? Could that be same one from this morning? Jason almost laughed at his own question. He took a closer look at the crow, slightly squinting as he tried to get a better look at the bird.

And then he saw it. What he had seen this morning. The eyes. There was something....off about them. Its eyes almost seemed to glow a faint violet hue.

Jason rubbed his eyes and looked back at the crow. Its glowing eyes continued to stare into his soul.

Just as Jason pulled out his phone to snap a picture, the crow - almost as if it knew of Jason's intentions - flew away before he could get a shot.

************************************************************************

By the time Jason was back in his apartment, he was exhausted. Despite today being a Wednesday - meaning that he only had two classes - it felt like one of the longest days of the semester.

Upon entering his unit, Jason threw his bag on the living room sofa and went into his room - this time picking up one of the piles of dirty clothes and putting it in his hamper.

He plopped onto his bed, the recoil of which made him bounce slightly. What a weird day. He thought to himself.

Jason pulled out his phone and logged into the LexCorp job application portal.

Status: Pending Review.

Of course. Jason sighed. He’d already been rejected from WayneTech’s engineering internship program — his top choice. Queen Industries hadn’t even bothered sending him a confirmation email.

What was he thinking?

He barely had any experience — just fixing the occasional broken CCTV camera at his security job.

No research. No extracurriculars.

Hell, he wasn’t even accepted into the Tandon School of Engineering yet — he was still listed as “undecided.”

Why would any company hire him? Let alone the Big Three.

Jason spent the next few minutes staring at the ceiling. His mind began flashing back to distant memories:

His mother glaring at him in contempt, then turning to look away as she tossed her dead cigarette butt on the carpet — leaving him to only see her disheveled black hair.

His older sister abandoning him, leaving him sobbing and crying out for her.

His ex screaming at him after he confronted her about her cheating.

Jason closed his eyes, fighting back tears. He had nothing — no career prospects, no one to care for him, no reason to keep going.

He felt a sense of tightness around his face — as if a cloth had been tied tight around his eyes. His wrists throbbed with soreness, stung by an unexpected coldness.

Jason tried to open his eyes — nothing. He couldn’t. It was as if they were being held shut, forced into darkness.

Then — something grabbed the back of his head and yanked him upright. Suddenly, the tightness was gone.

Jason opened his eyes.

Where....am I?

The air felt different. It smelled....metallic. Blood. Jason looked around.

Stone pavement.

He looked up and around. A large crowd was gathered around him. Most wore tattered clothing. Others wore finely tailored garments and robes.

Everyone stared at him. Some with furious glares and snarls - others with expressions of pity and sorrow.

He tried moving his arms to rub his eyes. Clink. Chains. His arms were restrained behind his back. They felt....uncomfortable.

How did I get here?

"Do they need to be tightened?" A deep, muffled male voice behind him spoke. Jason turned to look over his shoulder. A man wearing what looked like chainmail armor was holding the chain to his restraints. "You deserve a lot worse than this, Yaevor. I hope you know that"

Yaevor? Jason thought. No, that's not my name....my name is.... He paused for a second. No, of course. Of course, that is my name. Why did it feel so foreign to me just now?

Yaevor closed his eyes, exhaled, and then looked up to examine the machinery in front of him. A guillotine - an all too familiar sight. Of course, it was never his head on the chopping block - always someone else's. A cult member. An arsonist. A witch.

"I hope it was worth it....Whatever satisfaction you got from killing him. I hope it was worth this."

You have no idea. Yaevor thought.

He looked up at the sun, feeling its rays blinding him.

Mersól, revered Lady, I beg you. Let them witness

Tears slowly streamed down Yaevor's cheeks. But these were not tears of sorrow. No, these were tears of joy - of triumph.

All the suffering he endured. It all amounted to this.

How will he be judged by the gods?

Will he be seen as a god among men and granted entry into Lumera? Or will he be banished to the shadowy depths of Shaedral, destined to be forgotten.

His thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched male voice in the distance.

"Yaevor of Jeweler's Row! You are charged with the murder of King Emrys - who was once our great and noble ruler! Your punishment for this heinous crime is immediate execution, which is to be witnessed publicly by the citizens of Brimhold."

Yaevor studied him closely. He was short and seemed to be wearing armor designed for someone much younger - perhaps a squire. His armor had the emblem of Brimhold - a fiery raven - on its breastplate. An emblem Yaevor was happy to have forsaken.

"Do you accept these charges?" The little man took a few deep breaths after saying what seemed to be a mouthful.

"Go fuck yourself..." Yaevor muttered.

"Very well! The condemned accepts his punishment. Take him to the platform!" ordered the little man.

Yaevor felt a sharp knuckle against the swell of his back as he was being pushed forward onto the steps to the scaffold. He willingly moved in the direction of the push - he had no intention of resisting.

As Yaevor slowly made his way toward the execution device, he became flooded with memories. From watching his parents executed in front of his own eyes, to losing the woman he loved, to then finally driving that sword through King Emrys's chest - nice and slow, savoring every painful gurgle of blood he heard. It all led up to this moment. This was it. He was ready.

He stood in front of the lunette, waiting to be secured. Knowing that he was near his end, Yaevor closed his eyes and began a final prayer to Mersól.

"caw! caw!"

His focus interrupted, Yaevor opened his eyes and looked up. A crow was sitting on the ledge of the lunette. Yaevor let out a light chuckle. He looked into its eyes and smiled - almost to signal to it that he's well aware of what's coming but appreciates the warning. As he looked closer, however, he noticed something off about the crow. Its eyes. A dark violet. Highly unusual for a crow. And they seemed to...

...glow?

Jason sprang up straight, breathing heavily. Instinctively, he drew his wrists forward—gripping his right wrist with his left hand, as if expecting to feel cold iron. He looked around—he was back in his room.