proximusar

[proximusar]

Chapter 4

I watched James leave through the apartment gates from the first floor. I hadn’t forgotten about my impending visitor. I recalled his pasty, pale skin and the chic black suit he was wearing this morning. He carried a formal, almost mediaeval nature which couldn’t help but irritate me slightly. They were an enigma carrying a cane in their left hand and an aura of authority that belonged to them, but didn’t fit the character they were portraying.

I made my way down to my apartment room door and let myself in. The hollow lounge was the first to greet me, it occupied a two-piece couch set, a wall-mounted and a small coffee table. The kitchen stood behind it, cordoned by a serving bar and a washroom on either side. My eyes scanned around before I closed the door behind me.

Empty, good.

I was on edge. I had no clue as to who that man was or how he got in. I let myself slump into a dammed wave of exhaustion. A lot of things were weighing on my mind, but the sound of my body collapsing onto my bed’s sheets was enough to silence the thoughts. It was way too much to process and I found it easier to sleep than it was to approach the mess I made trying to think through the situation.

I propped myself up and took a moment to gain my bearings. I tried again to process the notion of the visitor before my mind was swiftly whisked away by something more concerning: the sounds and smells that wafted into the room to greet me.

Is someone cooking?

“Wait, then how do you know Alec?”

“I don’t. I was simply an acquaintance of his father and came to offer my condolences to the young master.”

“It’s a lil for that, mate. The guy’s been gone for years.”

“I am well aware. My situation has not exactly proved the best, finding this place has been quite difficult.”

I moved to join the conversation. “Well, isn’t it the man of the hour.” James said, noticing me lurking in the passageway.

“What are you doing here?” I stepped forward, into view of the suited man who was cooking whilst James laid reclined across the couch, “more importantly, what is he doing here?”

James righted himself and pointed to the serving bar where a paper bag was sitting. “I got home and I noticed that you had forgotten the snacks in my car, so I decided to come back and drop them off for you. When I got here I saw this guy waiting outside your door.”

“Right. I gave you my spare set of keys–” I wavered.

James sighed and turned his gaze back to me. “You can’t just fall asleep if you are expecting visitors. I shouldn’t need to tell you that that’s rude.”

“That was my bad.” “I invited him in and we chatted for a bit while we waited for you to wake up.”

My eyes swung back to the man who stood in front of the stove in the kitchen. He made his way past me carrying a plate and sat down in an armchair on the far side of the lounge.

He started. “It has been a while since I’ve had something to eat. Master James assured me it would be alright, and so I made myself at home.”

“It’s alright.” I resigned, “I think it’s better if we just get this over with, so I’m fine with whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“He told me he was an acquaintance of your dad,”  James started. “Is there some inheritance you didn’t know about?”

I shrugged. “I actually have no idea.”

“Your lineage is of great importance and there is much for you to claim,” the man commented, pulling a handkerchief out from a pocket and tucking it into his shirt.

“What’s so important about me, and what’s this inheritance?” I retorted.

“Both your purpose and your inheritance is tied to the book your father left you. That book is a complete record to everything there is to know in the multiverse.”

The room mulled over the conversation’s curiosities as I joined James next to the couch.

This was getting weird.

“Dean, right?” I prodded.

“That is correct.” He said.

“I need to know who you are before we can go any further.”

“I am Dean. An archmage with the inscribed glyph ‘D’, and butler to the House of ‘J’–a lineage of human archmages.”

“Archmages–” I pondered the word. Hearing that couldn’t be anything weirder than what I’ve already heard. “And what is your purpose?”

James walked to the kitchen and scratched at anything he could fix for himself.

“I am here to collect the heir and erase their existence from this world.”

“Erase my existence?”

“For the sake of this world, we cannot allow anyone to trace you back to here.”

James resumed his position on the couch with a plate of his own. “So, let me get this straight. You are from another world and have come to collect Alec, who is an archmage, so that he may–”

“Inherit my father's legacy.” I completed.

“Yeah. I don't buy it.”

“I agree, but I don’t think this is something you can ‘buy’,” I turned to question the man once more. “If I am as important as you say, how come you don’t simply kill me and take this book for yourself.”

“That is a long story. I will put it to you simply: I made a ‘deal’.”

“With whom?”

Dean placed his plate onto the coffee table. “Excuse me, I am unable to answer any more questions.”

“Then, I’m going to need some time.” I said.

“So will I,” Dean said, rising from his seat. “I require twenty-four hours for the ritual before we can leave.”

“I never said I was coming with you.” I snapped back at him.

“My apologies, young master, but this is not a decision to be made. I require twenty-four hours to erase any memory this world has of you and to reestablish its rerouting seal to protect it against anyone who would try to enter it.”

Dean rose from the armchair, “let us get started. Rise.”

James and I followed the instruction. Amidst an air of bewilderment that hung in the air, Dean snapped and the furniture was removed from the room. Digging into his pocket, he then proceeded to pull out two sharp, white stones.

“Ritual of Oil: Erasure,” the words resonated as he tossed the stones to the living room floor.

[proximusar]

Chapter 3

We worked at a small grocer on the corner of an intersection. It was a bustling area that housed many other stores and besides the grocer where we worked, there were a few restaurants, a bakery, a butchery, and a hardware store. The atmosphere there was homey, rustic, and smelt of fresh bread and cinnamon. It was great for business, an eye of the storm for local commerce. However, with the amount of business the area received, came a nightmare of both traffic and the parking. It was a suburban area that put city traffic to shame. Regardless, there is never an issue when it comes to parking for employees–there are always vacant or reversed bays for employee vehicles. But today was Tuesday, our quietest day, pensioner’s day.

Like every other Tuesday, the day was monotonous, although the work stopped my head from overthinking. I was assigned the restocking of shelves while James was a cashier for the day. Restocking, organising and checking shelves were my frequent duties. I am never assigned to be a cashier or doorman–in part because of my lacking smile–and it’s become a point of banter amongst the managers that my charisma scares away customers.

An hour after we arrived, the doors opened, letting in a steady stream of customers. Lunch rush then came with a chartered bus arriving from a local old-age home, and some regular customers. The day wandered along until a couple minutes past three when we had to finish our shifts and hand over to the afternoon staff. I made my way outside and waited for James next to his car. After a few minutes, he made his way over from the neighbouring bakery carrying two paper bags. He worked the car door and passed me one of the bags he was carrying once we got inside.

“What’s this?” I asked, looking inside of the bag.

“It’s just a lil something from the back. They were pulling out a fresh batch just as I was about to leave, so I decided to take some.”

“And they didn’t mind?”

“I have my ways,” he smirked.

I placed the bag at my feet. James started the ignition and with the car coming to life, we started on its way back to my apartment.

“Finals are this weekend. You wanna come to my place to watch?” He questioned, trying to get a conversation started

“It’s Equestrian and-”

“Gladiators.” James completed.

“Sounds hype. I don’t mind.”

“I know you were going to just waste away your weekend on your computer again if I didn’t ask. You shouldn’t wait for me to invite you out for you to do something different.”

“Nah. I just haven’t been following it much this season.”

“Then let’s go out for drinks if you’re not interested in watching it.”

I sighed. “You know how I am about drinking.”

“Yea, I forgot.” He said, letting silence fill the car for a moment.

I let the conversation limbo in that silence. It was a first for any ride I’ve had with James. Normally, there was no stopping him from talking, but I felt something was weighing on him.

“It’s fine though. Let’s do something different for a change.” I reassured him.

“Alright.”

[proximusar]

Chapter 2

I had watched as the sun rose through the cracks of my window blinds. My sleep-glassed eyes reflecting the little memories I had of my dad back to me. It was already six o’clock, but my mind was taken by the current of its own thoughts. I felt angry and confused at the years that had been lost, only for me to learn of what they had told me from the beginning. He was not coming back.

I fought to get myself out of the apartment. I was late getting myself to the car park of my apartment building and I was greeted by James who was already waiting with a smirk taunting me through the window of his car. I took my place in the passenger seat of his car, with the door closing behind me snapped his attention to me.

“Morning, A.” He turned.

“Let’s get going.” I coldly responded.

James started the car and pulled out and into the morning traffic. He talked as he does every morning while we waited out the drive to the store. He was someone who always managed to find something new to start a conversation on. Nothing I was necessarily knowledgeable about, but he had requested the company on the way to work. He seemed to enjoy having someone listen to him. Today wasn’t a day where I was willing to listen, however. I started to try and organise my thoughts while he rambled on. At this point it was a torrent of new information and old information that I let paralyse me on the journey to the store.

[proximusar]

Chapter 1

The morning woke me up like a dream. The sound knocking on the door resonated through the silent halls of my apartment. I was greeted by a light peering through the window, but it was not the sunrise. It was too early for that.

The sleep grogged my form as I dragged my way toward the sound – a pressed knock, not panicked, but it kept a firm rhythm. I reached for the knob and creeped the door open. It revealed a tall, slim figure that stood on the other side underneath the door lamp. He was largely eclipsed by the light behind him, but what was discernible about his figure was his pair of vibrant eyes and the toothy grin he had worn when he peered down at me.

“Evening and salutations, sir” He greeted fervently as he reached out to shake my hand. “My name is Dean. Do you mind if I come in for a moment?”

I took a moment to process the information before retracting my hand from his grasp. “Dude, it’s the middle of the night.” I peered around to see if anyone else was nearby. “How did you even get in?”

“I came as soon as I had heard the news of your father’s death, young man. I have come on instruction that I may assist you in your future endeavours.” He continued, ignoring me.

“Excuse me, but if you don’t–” I paused. “My father? My father’s been dead for years.”

“Yes, and I do apologise. I would have loved to do the whole wizard thing and whisked you away at the age of eleven, but that’s not how things work.”

“I-” I dig my head into my hand and try to process everything that I was just told. “Thank you… for your offer, but you can’t expect me to do anything in the middle of the night like this.”

Unwavering, his voice continued his pitch. “Time is of the essence, and yet we are behind schedule. Your father left me with very important work for you to do before you can inherit his legacy.”

“Inherit?” I cleared my throat of the sleep that resided there. “I’m sorry, it is not the proper time for this. Can you please come back later, after I have returned from work?”

“Certainly, sir.” Dean tipped the top hat I had not noticed he had been wearing.

“Thank you.”

With my words bubbling with anxiety and confusion, I closed the door on the figure. I was filled with a taunting darkness, one which had waited for me to think I had gotten over that seemingly unceremonious departure. My accelerating breath just helped to show how fragile it all was to me. I vented my frustrations at the air until I was tired enough to return to my bed. However, the thoughts that tonight’s exchange had spawned kept me from going back to sleep.

[proximusar]

Prologue

I'm sorry, I have to go...

I has startled awake with tears in my eyes. Why was I crying? He had been gone for years.

I righted myself and turned away my sheets, letting out one choked breath. The sunrise approached through the curtained windows.

The second breath was released. I made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Drinking half, I poured the rest into the pot of the echeveria that sat next to the sink.

I had remembered that day many years ago. I had woken up to the sound of my father's voice in my ear, but only his book had been there with those fateful words scribbled in the cover. I remember handing out flyers and how long we had searched for him, but he had left as though he had never existed.

I wiped away those memories and thoughts; a towel unveiling my face to a steamed mirror. Breathe in. And out.

Your father is gone, Alec. Why do you still think about him?

Because I know he's still out there somewhere.

And what will you do if you find him?

I-I... I don't know.

I sigh.

I donned a white t-shirt and a navy blue jeans and jacket. I opened my door to the, now, risen sun and an awaiting colleague.

"Hey James," I say monotonously.

"Morning, A," He replied with a smirk crawling across his face.

"You should've knocked,"

"You were gonna answer?"

I sighed, "Probably not."

"Ight then, first round's on me." He spun around, walking backwards, a full grin on his face.

"First round of what?" I questioned. "If we go anywhere other than the store right now, we're going to be late."

"I got Sean and Gray to cover so we're free to do whatever today."

"I don't have a choice in this, do I?"

"Not really. Everyone agreed that they don't want you at work today."

"They know-"

"How could they not? Everyone still sees you putting up posters."

"Let's go then, I guess" I concede as I lock the door to my apartment.

My hand dug into my jacket pocket as I tailed James. It clenched the printed posters that I had stowed there.