The Mage's Son

by T Ariyanna

  Arion was swallowed up by Kraven’s shadow as he towered over him. “Leave her alone. Just deal with me, Kraven. Or are you scared?” Arion hissed.

  Kraven exploded in laughter, spit flying from his mouth onto Arion's face. “I thought you were actually smarter than that. Thinking you can just come back. Everyone knows what you are, freak. It's just a matter of time before…”

  “What am I?” Arion spat. He placed his right hand on Kraven's chest and pushed him back. His face twisted in anger and confusion. “What. Am. I?” he demanded again. “You don't know what I am, and it scares you. Doesn't it?”

  His rage had his blood boiling, and magic was coursing through his veins uncontrollably. Arion dug his fingers into his left palm more, fighting against the sparks that flew out from them. He felt the weak fabric of the glove tear under the pressure, and he cursed at himself silently.

  “Y…you're a freak,” Kraven stuttered. He was inching away, and his group had already put a few feet between themselves and Arion.

  “What kind of freak?” Arion screamed. He opened his hand, and his glove went up in green flames at his side. He flexed his arm and started to swing, but Kaitlyn caught his arm.

  He glared at her sad expression, and let out a breath. His anger faded, and with it, the magic. Arion shoved his hand into his pocket and bit his lip. He glanced at Kraven, but the bully had a stone expression. Sweat beaded his face, and his legs quivered beneath him. Arion smiled at his fear, but didn't dare act on it. Not yet.

  “What a weakling. That girl's stronger than you, ha! You're just a waste of time, both of you. But don't worry, you'll get yours soon enough, freak.” Kraven spat at the ground before turning away. He returned to his lackeys, cursing at them.

  Arion lunged after him, but Kaitlyn held him back. “Don't. Let's just go. Please?” she begged.

  Arion let her pull him away to his tree. He slumped against it, looking at his hands. They were still glowing faintly. He yanked his glove from his other hand and switched it to his left. He threw his head back and closed his eyes.

  Kaitlyn sat on the ground with a huff, and Arion slid down the tree trunk beside her. After a moment of silence, Kaitlyn spoke. Her voice was just a whisper, and seemed hesitant. “I was thinking. About your mom, and other stuff. I think you should try to figure out what happened to her…”

  “I've been trying,” Arion scoffed bitterly. When there was no response, he opened one eye to look at Kaitlyn. Her hands were on her hips as she glared at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Hmph. Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted. I was going to say that you should open up that music box of hers. See what's inside.”

  “I already know what's inside! It's just a stupid crystal ball.” Arion dropped his head and picked at the frayed edges of his glove.

  Kaitlyn smacked the back of his head, and he turned on her. “I meant, let out whatever's in the ball, idiot.”

  Arion opened his mouth to protest, but thought of what she had said before. It's almost like something's trapped in there. He closed his mouth as his mind began to work out all the things he could try. He nodded his head and stared off into space. Kaitlyn began humming, picking at the grass while he thought.

  “I don't think I should come back to school, Kait,” he whispered, breaking her concentration. She dropped a blade of grass that she had been ripping to shreds. He looked away from her and stood up. “It’ll stop you from getting into trouble.”

  He shoved his hands back into his pockets and walked away from her. At the last minute, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “I guess I'll see you later.”

  “Oh. Okay,” Kaitlyn mumbled. He left her staring at the ground as the teachers called for the students to return.

  From the edge of the schoolyard, Arion watched her scrub at her eyes and run after the last few straggling students as they shuffled into the building. He raced to his room and slammed the door behind him. He dove under the bed and yanked out the music box and Tome, and the book squirmed in protest. It bounced around on the bed, its pages making every noise that they could.

  He paced the small room, wracking his brain. “It has to need magic, right? It wouldn't be able to just be smashed open, not if it has magic in it. It needs magic, but what kind?”

  He glanced at Tome, and the book hopped along the bed, nearly falling off at every turn.

  Arion fumbled to try to pin the book down, but Tome just flopped onto the bed over and over. “Come on, Tome, please. I need to know how I can break the crystal ball. Please!”

  The book became still at his begging, but didn't open. Arion raised his eyebrows and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

  The book burst open, flipping to the end, and Arion jumped up. He scanned the page before fully realizing what was on it. Instead of spells, a calendar filled the page. October thirteenth was circle in red. His birthday. He glared at the book before slamming it closed.

  “I don't care about that, Tome. I just want to know how to open this damn thing!”

  Tome ruffled its pages and blew out air, as though it was sighing. The book was reluctant, but it slowly opened again all the same. Arion watched the pages flip through eagerly, scanning them for any possibility. When it finally came to a stop, Arion scoffed.

  In the middle of the page in bright red, bold lettering, it read, “TO SUMMON A DEMON.”

  Arion shook his head. “What the hell is this, Tome? This isn't a joke. This is Mom we're talking about. There wouldn't be a demon in a music box for just anyone to find! But I get it. If you don't want to help, then fine. I'll do it on my own.” He picked up the book and closed it.

  He dropped it back onto the bed and took the music box into his hands, turning the music on. The smoke spun in circles and did loops within the glass, changing its color to match the melody.

  “Don't worry, I'll get you out, whatever you are,” he whispered. He heard a thud, and looked down just as Tome disappeared under the bed. He rolled his eyes at the book and returned to the smoke. When the music ended, it pressed itself against the edge of the glass towards Arion. The smile grew on his face.

  Mom wouldn't have a demon.

  Right?

  Chapter 6

  “Come on, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” Arion squealed from his knees beside his bed. Tome was propped up against the wall, its front cover turned away from him. “I really need your help. It's been months, and I’ve tried everything I can, but nothing's working! Please, Tome!”

  The book turned to him, then to the music box in the center of the room. It lay open on its side. The smoke moved jaggedly inside the glass ball, agitated. There were scorch marks in the floor around the box, and the metal clasp still glowed red from the heat.

  “The fire didn't even do anything to the wood,” Arion mumbled, glaring at the box. Tome turned back to him before bouncing as far as he could get on the bed.

  “Tome! Please, this is my best shot at finding Mom, and you know that. You have to help!”

  The book tucked itself into the corner, nipping at the blankets. They fell on top of it, and the book settled underneath.

  “Would you at least help because it's my fourteenth birthday?” Arion grumbled. His birthdays had never brought anything but pain, and he hated to even acknowledge them. But his father was away this year, making it the best so far.

  Tome poked out from the blankets and fluttered his pages at him. Reluctantly, it hopped out of hiding and plopped itself before Arion. The pages turned slowly at first, but quickened until they reached their destination. There was no war within Tome this time as he turned once again to the spell to summon demons.

  Arion was silent for a long moment, staring at the spell. He glanced at the box, perfectly intact despite all of his attempts to destroy it. He let out a huff, and then said, “If it has a weak spot, I can't find it. I guess I have no other option.”

  He swooped Tome into his left arm, memorizing the page as he wandered to his dresser. He had nev
er owned enough clothes to fill it, and he used the bottom drawer to store his materials. Some of them had been easy to find, and others he had made from recipes in the book. The best, though, had appeared on his windowsill overnight when Tome would get new spells. He had never dared to use them, though, worried they might be dangerous if he failed at them.

  He filled his arms with the materials and sprawled them out beside the box. He set it upright, stamping out the remaining embers with his foot. Looking around the room, he wondered if there would be enough space. Using his magic, he stood the bed up in the air and pushed the dresser as far from the center of the room as he could.

  He read over the spell one last time as he sat among his materials. Picking up a piece of chalk, he said, “How hard could it be to summon a demon, anyway?”

  “You promise this will work this time?” Arion whined. Tome shook in his hand, ruffling his pages. Arion scrunched his mouth up as he looked around him. There were broken floorboards and holes in the walls from the destructive spells he had tried first to break the crystal ball. Smoke still rose from the scorch marks on the wall opposite of him from the fireball that had bounced off.

  With no other option, he had returned to Tome. Following the spell to summon a demon, he had drawn two circles in chalk on the floor…one for the demon, to restrain it, and one for his own protection. Spells for each circle were scrawled around the edges in a language Arion didn't fully understand. Candles sat just outside of the circles, half melted away and flames dying.

  He shuffled his weight and bumped the small bag of powder beside him. It had taken him weeks of practice to embed magic into the sand and fill the bag, but now, it was nearly gone. There was only enough for a few more tries.

  Reading over the incantation again, his hope fled with every word. “I'm doing it exactly the same every time. What could I be doing wrong?” he burst. He read every word carefully, dissecting the spell to its roots.

  When he found no flaws in his attempts, he slammed Tome shut and dropped it to the floor. The book rammed against his foot angrily, but he paid it no mind.

  He glared at the music box across from him, and bent down to scoop up a handful of the powder. He squeezed it in his left hand, forcing more and more magic into it. He stared at the smoke bobbing from side to side in the glass ball, his frustration making his left hand burn.

  The sand hardened from the pressure and heat until it began to reject the magic. Arion looked down and gasped. The sand had turned into a hallow glass ball, with green lightning bouncing around inside. He touched the hot glass with his other hand, and the lightning charged at his fingers, much like the smoke did.

  Gripping the ball tighter, he raised his eyes to the music box. The smoke was now a tornado inside, barely contained within the glass. He tossed his own glass ball into the air and caught it a few times, grinning triumphantly at the music box.

  He threw the ball of lightning at the ball of smoke, and they collided with a thunderclap. A crooked smile broke his face as fire and lightning exploded from the center of the circle.

  There was the sound of cracking glass, his lullaby playing faintly, and something ominous Arion couldn't place. Walls of fire reached the ceiling in rings around the box, reaching the edge of the circle. Blue and green sparks filled the air, turning into wispy tendrils of smoke.

  All but the outer ring of fire quickly died out, leaving nothing more than shimmering gray dust and an awful smell. The fire slithered along the floor, spreading to light his own ring, surrounding him. Where his fire was as green as his magic, the ring in front of him was light purple with a pitch black core.

  Arion fell onto his back in defeat, Tome nuzzling into his side. He sprawled his limbs out. His fingers spilled into the flames and they licked at his skin. He felt no pain from them, their heat oddly soothing, and he wiggled his fingers in the fire.

  “I don't think you're supposed to do that,” an amused, high-pitched voice said. Arion scrambled to his feet, and his jaw dropped. The circle was slowly filling with a deep violet smoke that had an underlying red light seeping through. From the smoke emerged a figure unlike anything Arion had ever seen.

  It was a gangly creature, with pointed bones protruding from its joints. Its skin was pale, with a black underbelly, and black ram horns grew from the top of its bald head. Four round, pitch black eyes watched Arion, above a large mouth filled with serrated teeth. Small horns tipped the upturned nose and curled ears. Red talons protruded from its fingers as they cut through the smoke.

  The creature floated in the air above the crystal ball, its shape constantly fading into smoke. Its arms were crossed lightly over its chest, one leg tucked under the other. Once it had Arion's attention, the demon stretched its arms and legs, yawning. It touched the barrier that held it, and there was a sizzling sound. It yanked its limbs back, all but its bust dissolving into clouds.

  “Ouch,” it growled. The amusement left its face as it glared at the young boy that had summoned it.

  Arion had been struck speechless until then, letting out a chuckle of triumph. “I did it,” he gasped. “I actually did it!”

  “Yes, you did. Now, who dares to summon me?” the creature hissed, rolling onto its stomach in the air, holding up its head on its hands.

  Arion scooped Tome, who had shuffled shakily behind his legs, from the floor and buried his nose into its pages, gaining a scoff from the creature. “I'm not supposed to tell you that. I'm your master, that's all you need to know.” He lifted his chin as he spoke, but his voice shook and cracked. “Now, tell me your name. It’s an o…order.”

  Arion held his chin high. Don't show fear, he told himself over and over.

  The creature narrowed his eyes in response, and then glared at the book. “Nice book you've got there,” it said bitterly. “Name's Cy…wait a second. You called me without my name!?”

  The creature jumped from his floating seat, marching to the edge of his circle.

  Arion shrunk away from him, being mindful of the circle he was in for his own protection. “Did I do it wrong?” he whispered. He skimmed through the pages before remembering that he hadn't actually used the book to call the demon. He’d used his magic alone.

  The creature didn't answer, only balled up its hands and huffed thick smoke from its nostrils. The smoke caught on the barrier and blew back in its face, making it wheeze and cough.

  Arion couldn't help but chuckle, and forced a cough to hide it. He's just as bad at his as I am!

  “You are a demon, aren’t you?” Arion asked cautiously.

  “Very much so?” the creature hissed, its irritation growing.

  Arion opened Tome again, and the pages turned to that of demon classifications. Arion read through the entries quickly, speaking aloud as he read. “It’s difficult to tell just based on its appearance, because all demons can change on a whim. But there are certain types that prefer specific colors, or have a signature, so it can’t be one of those. What kind could it be?”

  “I’m sorry, ‘it?’ I am not an ‘it,’ thank you very much?” the demon hissed, listening to Arion’s monologue.

  Arion raised his eyebrows, caught off guard. “He?” he tried carefully, hoping he had guessed correctly.

  The demon crossed its arms over his chest, and nodded his head once. “Thank you,” he snorted.

  “Alright, now that that’s out of the way. What kind of demon are you? Tome said there are a lot of different kinds. Chaotic, mischievous, destructive? Or maybe one that drains magic, or curses others?” Arion listed off a few as he skimmed the pages, glancing up at the creature. He was watching Arion’s finger as he glided it over the pages. The creature stretched itself out as thought trying to peek at Tome, and Arion quickly shut it.

  The creature shook his shoulders, and raised his chin. “What makes you think I’m a negative demon? I could be a servant demon, or a garden imp for all you know,” he spat.

  Arion raised his eyebrows incredulously, looking the demon head to toe. “Are
you a service demon or a garden imp? Are you a helpful demon in any way?” he asked slowly.

  The creature smiled wickedly, and it sent chills down Arion’s spine. “Nope.”

  Arion narrowed his eyes at the creature, and spoke with resolve, “It doesn’t matter what kind you are. You’re a demon, a creature that is not natural to this world. Because of that, you must obey the orders of whoever calls you into this world, which in this case is me. You will help me. Name. Now.”

  The creature's face twitched in anger, but he answered nonetheless, “Cyllorian.”

  “Cyllorian? What kind of a name is that? It’s a mouthful. Can I just call you Cy?”

  “Whatever you want, Master,” Cy spat. A light purple, forked tongue shot out between the rows of teeth and shook in the air. “So why did you call me? You need help on your math problems, kid?” Cy’s voice had become higher and nasally, and he spoke through a snarl.

  “No, I called you for something important. You're supposed to have a bunch of knowledge…or at least, power. So are you going to comply. Or are you not a strong enough demon to be of any actual help?” Arion prodded. He plopped himself onto the ground, his hands clasped in his lap. He smiled at the jibe, hoping it would incite a reaction. He wanted the demon to show his power.

  He wanted to know what he was dealing with.

  The demon raised a hand, and the loose smoke gathered around his fingers. His eyes glimmered a moment, but he dropped his hand instead. “Nice try picking at my temper. But I need secrets of my own. Got to keep an air of mystery. Ain’t that right, kid?”

  The demon retorted with ease, nagging at Arion’s insecurities.

  “I’m not a kid,” Arion snarled, careful to hide the extent of his anger.

  “You’re what, twelve? Younger than me, so that makes you a kid in my book.”

  “I’m fourteen!” Arion burst, slamming his hand down on the ground. Magic radiated out from it, reaching for the demon’s circle. The fire flared around him, but did no damage.