Saturday mornings were always more relaxed, unlike the weekdays—the family would always be in a rush to get to school or work. Saturdays were especially unlike Sundays, when Jackson's mom would put everyone to work on cleaning the house.
Today his mom worked at the grocery store, so there was no one around to nag him. She had already left earlier that morning.
Jackson was just getting up, and saw Mark passed out on the other bed. He left the room and got ready for the day, even if he was only going to do homework for the first part of it.
Jackson was still thinking about the naming ceremony last night. It was fascinating the way all those people were treating him like a celebrity. In The Interim he was somebody, here... he was nobody.
All he wanted to do now was escape back to that place, but he couldn't. Even if he could go back to sleep, his family would start suspecting something.
This was Jackson's secret, and he intended to keep it that way. Even if he told someone, they probably wouldn't believe him anyway. Would they?
Jackson grabbed a piece of toast and went back to his room. His mom didn't usually let him eat in his room, but whatever. They were going to clean the house tomorrow anyway, so what difference did it make?
In his room, he popped open his math book and started going over some of the new stuff his mom gave him yesterday. He was finally getting used to studying a little more, or at least he didn't need to go back and read the same page over and over again.
It was amazing what he could accomplish when he had something to look forward to at the end of the day. The world in his dreams. It was a good motivator.
Jackson was thoughtlessly nursing his lip when Mark got out of bed.
Sophie had been up for a while now and was waiting in the living room for a friend to pick her up. Jackson assumed she was going to the mall or someplace boring like that.
When Mark was done with his morning routine, he went straight to his tablet to watch videos.
Jackson ignored his brother snd continued working. When he was done with Math, he moved on to History, then Science, then English. He was blazing through it this time.
The make-up work that he finished yesterday was months of overdue work. However, the work in front of him now only amounted to a couple of days at school.
. . .
By lunchtime, Jackson had finished all his assignments. He took a bite of his sandwich and walked to the living room.
Mark was watching something on TV.
Jackson sat down.
Mark looked at him with a dopey expression. "Mom said you're grounded. You're not allowed to watch TV," he said annoyingly.
Jackson paused before taking another bite of his sandwich and turned to Mark. "Are you serious? What, are you gonna snitch on me?"
Mark nodded.
Jackson grunted in frustration. "You little punk. I should beat you up for saying that."
Mark shrugged. "I'll tell Mom that, too."
Jackson jumped from the couch and trudged to the kitchen. He crushed his sandwich in between his fingers. Peanut butter and jelly squirted around his hand.
The sandwich was ruined now. He threw it out and washed his hands, then paced around the kitchen, trying to decide whether or not to give Mark the beating of a lifetime. His mom would ground him for another week if he did…
Jackson had another idea. He walked back to his and Mark's room and saw Mark's tablet on the nightstand. He grabbed it, determined to change the passcode and lock Mark out forever.
Jackson typed furiously on the lock screen, but none of the codes he tried were correct.
What number did that stupid kid use?
Nothing Jackson tried worked, but he knew there had to be some way to unlock it. He just needed to search on the Internet for a way to hack in.
He didn't have a phone anymore, so Jackson would have to use a computer. His mom kept a laptop in her room.
Jackson snuck into his mom's room and found the old gray laptop. The password to that, he knew. The kids used Mom's laptop like it was a family computer; everyone knew the password. He typed it in, and it sprung to life. He wasted no time searching for a way into Mark's tablet.
Jackson searched for a few minutes, but didn't find anything useful until… He saw that he could factory reset it. He could barely keep in his laugh as he followed the steps to reset and erase everything on Mark's tablet.
The process began and a progress bar popped up, showing how long it would take to reset everything.
Jackson watched with anticipation, intending to change the password after it was all over. It was taking a long time, though, and Jackson was getting bored.
He looked at the internet browser as his mind wandered. Naturally, his thoughts wandered to the memory of his dreams.
There were so many questions he wanted to ask Sairia. Most of them had to do with magic, admittedly.
Still, he knew that other Alma Ni had come before him. Surely, somewhere online there was evidence of The Interim. He pulled the laptop closer.
Recurring dreams, he typed.
A few links came up, but nothing described quite the same experience Jackson had.
Magic world in dreams, he typed.
Still nothing came up about such a place. Any references to The Interim seemed to provide no solid leads.
Was the place even real? It could have been all in his head after all.
He tried to think of how the dreams might manifest in the real world.
Person with fire powers, he typed.
That brought up some interesting results, but there were too many views. Jackson suspected the videos and photos were fake.
What he was looking for would have been more subtle, otherwise everyone would know about the world in his dreams.
Recurring dreams about another world, he typed.
Near the top of the results, there was a link. He thought he'd seen it before, but this time it stood out more. He read the description.
Do you have recurring dreams of another world? An ancient world of magic? Every night, do you have the same dream about this world? You are not alone. Join the…
The rest of the description was hidden. Jackson hovered his mouse over the link.
Right before he clicked, the browser suddenly closed. He tried to bring it back up, but the mouse wasn't obeying his movements. The mouse moved away from the internet browser icon and it opened a new document.
Jackson removed his hands from the laptop, thinking he had done something wrong.
The mouse continued to move without him touching anything.
Suddenly, words were being typed on the blank page in front of him.
Jackson Cooley, it read.
Jackson's heart began to race, and his breath became short and quick. Someone was hacking the computer and talking to him directly. He was just about to close the laptop when the hacker wrote one more word.
Stop.
Jackson tried to calm down. He looked around his mom's room, and no one was there.
He took a peek out the window. An empty street.
The hacker wrote again.
Your curiosity is commendable, but do not let it get the better of you.
Jackson wanted to see if he could write back to the hacker. Who are you, he typed. The words appeared on the page.
A guide. Not your enemy.
Jackson grew more determined. Why are you hacking this computer then?
A few seconds passed before the hacker responded. A hunter seeks to destroy you and the others.
Others? Jackson wondered if the hacker was talking about the other Alma Ni. Sairia never mentioned a hunter, though. Jackson typed back, Who.
You will learn that in time. In this new age of technology, the hunter has the resources to achieve his goals. You must take care to never reveal who you are.
Can't I tell anyone? My family?
The less who know, the better.
Why isn't it safe to search the internet?
You will not find answers there. If you continue, you will only find pain.
Jackson felt his heart racing as he read the words on the page. He was trying to think of something else to say when the hacker wrote another line.
Do not tell Sairia about this. Take care, Jackson Cooley.
The document closed.
Jackson blinked in surprise. Not tell Sairia? Why not? Who was that? How did they hack their way into his mom's computer? He shivered at the thought of being watched.
There was a hunter searching for the Alma Ni. But why? How could Jackson be so sure this hacker wasn't the hunter?
Jackson closed the laptop and put it away. He saw Mark's tablet on the ground and picked it up. What was he doing with that again? He couldn't recall; it probably wasn't important.
He walked back to his room and put the tablet on Mark's nightstand. Then he lay on his bed, trying to puzzle out what he'd just been told. What kind of insanity had he been pulled into?
. . .
An hour went by before Mark realized what happened to his tablet.
"What?" The little boy screamed. "Where are all my games?"
Jackson jolted upright, remembering his plan for revenge. He felt a twinge of regret.
"Jackson!" Mark cried, trudging over. "Why did you do this? I'm telling Mom!"
"Calm down, you can always redownload everything," Jackson replied nonchalantly.
"You don't know anything!" Mark screamed before running out of the room.
Jackson could hear his brother bawling in the living room.
A few minutes later, the front door opened. Jackson's mom was home. She immediately noticed Mark was crying.
"What happened?" She said in a sympathetic, yet exhausted, tone.
"Jackson erased all the memory on my tablet," Mark whined.
"Jackson!" His mom called angrily.
Jackson cringed, trying to think of a way out of the punishment. His lip pulsed in pain. He picked at the scab, opening up the wound again.
He might be able to squeeze out some pity points if he was bleeding. A little reminder of what his mom did. He walked out of the room.
"What?" He said, as if inconvenienced.
His mom's expression didn't change when she saw him. "Is it true? Did you do this to Mark?"
"It was an accident."
"Don't lie to me."
Jackson opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Why?" His mom repeated.
Jackson shrugged.
His mom sneered. "You're bleeding again. Go clean it up," she said in a cold manner.
Jackson expressed his indignation. "This is your fault. You clean it up."
"Don't try that with me again. I talked to Beck's mother today on the phone. Turns out, you started that fight yesterday. Instead of apologizing like I asked you to, you chose violence again."
Jackson grinded his teeth. "He was acting like a jerk!"
"You were acting like a jerk! Sounds like you got exactly what you deserved."
Jackson couldn't take it anymore. He turned around and ran to his room, slamming the door. He loudly threw another tantrum but didn't care who heard. He screamed till he was hoarse. He beat his mattress till his muscles ached.
Finally, he lay on his bed, waiting for the day to end.
◄——————————————————►
Taft practically jumped out of the stone box. He was so happy to escape his real life. His bare feet landed on the stone floor, and he shivered.
The servants must have removed his shoes when he passed out last night. His boots were leaning on the wall to his right. He slipped them on and walked around.
The table was still there from the second day; he imagined it would stay around for a while. There was a steaming plate of food on the table as well.
Sairia wasn't in the room yet, which made Taft wonder if he had succeeded in falling asleep extra early.
Taft sat down to eat. He was hungry, and the food was good, but he wanted to be done with it already so he could focus on asking questions when Sairia got there.
He swallowed a big bite of green roll and nearly choked. He moved on to the meat, which was always tender and juicy. He imagined it must have been the cook's specialty.
Next, he moved on to the mash and then the crunchy beans. The food was different here, but not too different. Some textures seemed to change, and the colors were a little more wild, but the taste of the food reminded him of Thanksgiving.
He finished his plate and sat waiting for Sairia. Where was she? Surely he didn't wake up that early.
Maybe she was also eating; he noticed that she never ate with him. It seemed a little strange, but he figured she could do what she wanted.
Taft wondered if he should leave his room. It was an exciting prospect, but he felt a little lost without Sairia to guide him. She had been kind to him so far.
He wondered if he should mention the hacker, though he was told not to say anything. He didn't know who to trust, though.
Just then, the door swung open and a pudgy woman walked in. The cook.
She had a basket of sweet-smelling bread in her hand. She looked surprised to see Taft was awake. She made several bowing motions and said some words before putting the basket on the table and scurrying out of the room.
Taft just gazed at her in confusion and awkwardness.
When she was gone, he sniffed at the basket. It smelled really good, like a mix of cinnamon rolls and pie. He grabbed one of the pieces of bread. It was shaped like a triangle with a big white spot in the middle that looked like custard.
He took a bite and fell instantly in love. It was a little crusty on the outside and soft on the inside. The second his teeth hit the center, he tasted the custard within. It was delicious.
He took a second bite, and a third, before he realized he forgot to swallow. There were two more in the basket and he ate every single one.
Maybe he should have left one for Sairia?
His stomach was feeling full now.
The door swung open a second time and there was Sairia, dressed the same in her white blouse and brown pants. She looked at Taft with those serious red eyes and nodded curtly. Her expression was straight as always.
"It smells like kuoya," she said, sniffing the air.
"What's that?"
"A traditional sweet roll from Rey Oben. Fried and filled with softcream."
"Oh yeah, those are super good! Sorry I didn't save you any."
"Whatever. You're awake even earlier this time, kid. Your body is getting used to the activity. That's a good sign. It means we have more time in the day to dedicate to your training," she said.
"Uh-huh! I already finished eating, too! So what are we gonna start with first?" Taft said excitedly. "Oh, yeah! I have some questions."
They were all questions he would have liked to ask the internet, but the hacker had prevented him. He had been waiting for the moment he could speak to Sairia.
"Well, glad to see you're so excited," Sairia said with a slight smile. "Ask away."
"What can you do with magic? I mean, other than fireballs. Is there like water magic and wind magic, too?"
"Not magic. Kovak. And each clan has a different type of kovak. As I said yesterday, you and I are Obenites. The blood of that clan runs through our veins. That means we wield the kovak of fire, flame, and heat.
"There are other clans, like one that can control water. There isn't one for wind, though..."
"Okay, okay. So I can only use fire?"
"That's right. A pure Obenite can only use fire. If you were a mauvre—someone with mixed blood—you might be able to use two different kinds of kovak, but you would never achieve mastery of either one. That would never happen with you, though, because the Alma Ni is always of pure blood."
"Oh, I see. So some people can use two different kinds of magic, but I can only use fire. Well, that's probably the coolest one anyway."
Sairia raised an eyebrow.
Jackson continued. "Does everyone in the world know some kind of kovak? Or can it only be given to special people, like me?"
"Only people who have been bestowed can use kovak, and each culture goes about the bestowing differently. In Rey Oben, everyone is bestowed on their Name Day—or rather, when they're a baby.
"That means that everyone in Rey Oben can use kovak. Some people are more talented than others, or more dedicated to the craft. Other people have certain… hurdles, but almost everyone in the country knows at least Resistance and Spark."
"Everyone in the country knows what?"
"Those are kovak skills. Resistance is an immunity to fire that is taught to young children to keep them safe—because fire is such a large part of our culture, accidents can happen often. Spark, on the other hand, is exactly what it sounds like," she said.
She snapped her fingers. Several bright sparks flew and fizzled out in the air. "It makes it easier to start fires, which can be used to boil water and cook food and many other things."
"I know what fire is used for," Taft said bluntly. "Anyway, that sounds pretty lame if people can only use those two skills."
"Some people would agree with you, but that's just how the world works. A person's capacity for kovak seems to be tied to their eyesight. Some people have better eyesight than others on Earth, right? It's the same way here, but those same people also can't use kovak very effectively."
"Okay… Oh, yeah," Taft said, remembering something that Sairia said. "When do other countries usually give people kovak?"
"Some countries bestow only men, others bestow only soldiers and others might wait for a certain age. Like I said, each clan does things differently. But here, every citizen is entitled to kovak. That's what we believe in."
"I like that, but I am a little bummed that I'm not special."
"You are special, kid. Although, it's probably for the best if you don't think you are... A big ego can get you killed—or worse."
Taft wasn't sure what that meant, but it wasn't what he wanted to talk about anyway. "So who can do a bestowing?"
"Anyone who possesses kovak, even if they have no capacity for it. A woman can bestow a man, or a child can bestow an adult. It doesn't really matter, as long as the bestower has already been bestowed. The bestowing is done by rubbing water onto the eyes of the receiver and saying a specific set of words."
"What is it like to use it?" Taft asked, half ignoring what Sairia said. "Magic. Is it like straining a muscle or something?"
"I would say it's more similar to… throwing up."
"Say what now?"
"It's like you're trying to release something inside of you, like… you know."
"Like farting?"
Sairia looked unamused, but Jackson caught a slight smile in the corner of her mouth. "Whatever makes more sense to you," she said seriously.
Taft chuckled a little to see if he could get her to crack a smile, but she still kept that straight face. "Anyway," he said. "How much magic can you use? Do you get tired after a while if you use it too much?"
"Kovak," Sairia corrected. "And there does seem to be a limit to how much a person can do in one sitting. Some skills require more from you, and it also depends on the degree to which you use that skill.
"Also, for the unpracticed, their capacity seems to be lower; but the more you practice and use kovak, the more skills you can learn. People born with a higher capacity are the ones that often go on to be kovakirs."
"Kovakirs?" Taft asked.
"Wielders of kovak. It's kind of like a career, unless we were speaking in terms of military designation," Sairia explained.
"What happens if I use too much kovak? You said that it was limited. Do I just… run out of juice?"
"You'll feel a tight pain starting behind your eyes. If you continue to use kovak after that, the pain will spread across your head until it reaches the base of your skull, where your neck meets your head. Then you pass out and, in some cases, die."
That was scary. And Sairia's natural, cold tone didn't quell Taft's fears. He shivered at the thought.
"Is that all the questions you had? I think it's about time we got started."
"Learning magic?"
Sairia sighed. "No, we're not learning kovak. We have to start somewhere more important. You still don't speak Ihmonic. We should begin your lessons right away," Sairia said as she pulled a thin, rolled-up book from her back pocket.
The pages looked dark yellow, as if the book was a hundred years old. There were some symbols on the front and back that Taft assumed were Ihmonic letters.
Sairia placed the book on the table and opened to the first page. She started repeating some words.
"Shal means hello. Kyol means goodbye," she said. She went down each word and phrase like it was a list until she got to the bottom of the page.
Taft blinked. He wasn't quite ready to start learning right away and certainly not like this, it seemed so ineffective.
When Sairia was finished with the first page she looked up at Taft. "How do you say hello?" She asked.
Taft thought for a second. "Shal," he said, surprised with himself.
"Very good. I wanted to give you a demonstration of just how well your mind can retain information right now. That's why I want to make use of the time we have and teach you the most difficult part first."
She pushed the thin book out of the way and took out a second thicker book from her back pocket. "So we're going to start with reading and pronunciation," she said.
Taft groaned. This wasn't going to be any fun at all.