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The spark of magic

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On A untravelled forest road, a goatish brood mother of a billion calls out, a humble musician answers whether he wants to or not.



Sparky is just a normal student at Winslow, he's not the main character, that's Hebert over there, Sparky just coasts through class, he certainly doesn't sacrifice things to unseen creatures away from the moons light, no sir not him.
ROOTS 1.1

Leektheratking

Getting some practice in, huh?
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Sep 29, 2024
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I'll preface this now, this will include serious matter material, such as assault of the sexual kind, though it is not a main theme,.

Also yes I know my grammar sucks I'm working on it, words are just hard

------------

Earth bet 2010 August.

Nervous.

'He could definitely say he was nervous' sparky thought to himself as he felt the hand within his own.

How'd he get here? He could barely remember, sneaking into that highschool party had felt like a dream for him, long hair slicked into a low ponytail waving slowly as he was led along, the music dying down more and more as he moved.

He walked though the party he remembered, snuck himself some drinks and even got to try weed! He cheered internally thinking how cool it felt…then he met her.

He didn't know her name but she knew his, he thought he was screwed planning on bolting as fast as his runner's build could allow but she stopped him, he could see the sweetly shining silver medallion around her neck, swinging lowly between her breasts and he could hear her telling him such sweet things.

How she was waiting for someone like him, how he was perfect, how she had something wonderful to show him.

He was head over heels, almost literally with the drinks she was giving him.

"The good stuff from inside" she said it was, it smelt like fire and tasted the same, cup after cup she gave to him until he felt ill, until the world spun, then he felt the buzzing of his young nerves as her hand fitted so smoothly between his own.

He had asked her if she wanted some but she had said it "wasn't for her to enjoy" he didn't complain

the blur of the alcohol smothering everything but her lambent eyes, hazel in name only they were positively glowing in the night as trails of thrumming yellow as she pulled him deeper into the abyss under the leaves.

Sparky stumbled and stuttered each step, attempting to say a pick up line for the beautiful woman leading him a head, her steps almost practiced as she danced around every rock and root he tripped over, as his hand at one point almost slipping from her grip her hand squeezed so tightly it hurt, pulling him close once again.

Eventually, as the blaring music of the party died, and the poison in his liver slowly turned his thoughts to mush, sparky could barely recognise as she laid him down onto a cold stone, feeling her mount on top of him, he desperately tried to place his failing muscle to stop her, he knew this was bad and yet as he felt her hands slip under his shirt he blacked out.

—-------------

The moon was beautiful that night, sparky could barely think as his double vision repeated the scared image of the satellite.

He felt cold, sparky would think to himself as he could scarcely see a raven haired figure back turned to him, covered head to toe in blur lines and shapes as he raised his own hand, not seeing the long-legged shirt he once wore but the same blue markings.

From his hand to chest to lower covered head to toe as he shivered, no wind stirred yet he heard the tears shaking as the portal made by the opening of the tree canopy stared down on him while he groaned.

"Oh sweetness, there's no need to get up" sparky felt as a hand forced his head back down onto the stone, a clicking sound as his skull impacted the uncaring granite.

Even now he could hear the shuffling of the trees as sparky saw the woman, he didn't even know her name he realized, lift a bowl of something to his mouth, another hand forcing it open as a foul mold smelling wetness invaded his mouth and stomach, choking from his prone position a hand placed itself squarely over his mouth forcing his to swallow through the pain, already feeling the build of of saliva that preempts vomiting happening.

"Now now my dear sparky, I did promise you before I'd show you something beautiful" she said in that sickly sweet voice, the blue lines hiding nothing as they covered breast and nipple, placed almost infront of his eyes as she moved, sparky barely noticed the iron glint in her hand.

"You're the most beautiful, I don't think you could show me something more" sparky choked out his poor flirting attempt the alcohol still stripping him of understanding and reason.

A scowl passed her lips as she once again forced his body down, now and only now did he see the iron dagger, about half the length of a forearm shining in her hand when she raised it, the twin moons shining no reflection on the blade.

Even now the forest shook and thundered as if a hurricane was twisting through, each branch thundering away.

"I didn't lie you'd make a great offering" she said with some genuine feeling he couldn't tell.

Once more his alcohol riddled brain tried to flirt, the last of his words before he passed out once more shortly after.

"You'd make an even better offering then me" he said trying to compliment her, and as he faded into unconsciousness he realized two things, the forest went deathly silent At his words, and that it was a new moon tonight, as he stared up at the now empty sky light in the forest and as screams sung him to his alcoholic slumber.

—----------
The next day

Awakening within a bolt, Sparky felt strange as he left from his bed, the thin sheets for summer flying in the air quickly as he stood looking around with a crazed expression, the forest and woman nowhere to be seen.

"Was…was that just a dream" sparky said outlook too incredulously for it to be thought alone to suffice aw he looked around, in his usual sleeping attire he saw the clothes he had set for sneaking out to the party where he had placed them the day earlier, shoes neatly leveled beneath them. Not a thing out of place from when he got home, except something felt wrong, as Sparky turned side to side seeking it a bilious feeling rose from his stomach.

Rushing to the toilet at quickly as he could he felt as a writhing pitch dark wetness exited his throat, the stinking smell of alcohol burning his eyes as it mixed with the smell of bile Sparky flushed the horrid concoction quickly, barely able to discern what appeared to be crawling tendrils as it was flushed away go the sewers.

Standing shakily Sparky made his way back to his room, finally noticing the thing that was causing such a feeling of wrong, the silver medallion, the one the woman wore sitting pristine and new on his desk, a tetragramic symbol of goat-like heads stamped deeply into the metal itself attached to a cord of the smoothest beige leather that Sparky had ever felt.

As he reached for the symbol, his fingers lightly brushing against the metal, like a flash of lightning he remembered the forest glade, the opening in the canopy, the rustling of the trees and he felt a longing pulling him back to that place, no matter how much reason and logic dictated he shouldn't go.

He felt he had no other choice
 
ROOTS 1.2
Luckily for Sparky it was a sunday and school was out.

Getting dressed as quickly as he could, in the same clothes he remembers wearing yesterday, a feeling of warmth still within them that felt strange, as if he had just taken them off. Yet no matter how he looked at it, it was as if they were never moved from their position.

Moving downstairs, sparky caught sight of the clock on the wall, the old analogue clock with the darkwood frame that his dad had left behind before…

Cutting that thought off Sparky looked at the clock face, seeing it was early, eight-thirty in the morning made his way downstairs, his mothers house though not the largest was well sized, a two storey house, walking down the stairs he found a note on the table, his unmistakable perfect handwriting of his mother on it.

"Brian, remember the take out the trash had to go into work early love you- Mom" Sparky saw written out plainly on the paper, his mother signing her name with the signature of hers a heart for a O in the word as he read it however, Sparky realized he had the perfect time to check out that forest glade.

Just as his thoughts drifted to the glade a startling vibration shook him, feeling his feet leave the ground as he definitely didn't scream from the sound of his phone buzzing on the counter, a message from his bandmates group chat mentioning that due to some crime in the areas of their home they wouldn't be able to come for practice today

'Ok this is starting to get unnerving' sparky thought as things seemed to fall in line perfectly today for him to leave, passing it over as superstition however he left the house grabbing his keys as he exited making sure the medallion was tucked under his shirt as he wore it, it felt familiar in the most strange way, like something he always had with him an heirloom of a distant relative, yet the foreign feeling of the weight around his neck told him otherwise.

Walking through the street Sparky kept to himself, his house was squarely in the territory of Empire-88 and he didn't feel like being on anyone's hit list, luckily he fit enough into what the Empire considered to be "acceptable" as they put it, the only thing hinting at his mixed heritage being the dark hair on his head.

Walking through the street towards the house the party was, at least he thinks it was on, it felt so real that it couldn't have been a dream, got knows his stomach felt like it was real, the thrumming headache of the late summer sun over his head making every pump of blood a headache, yet he kept walking, until the streets became familiar, and at the end of the cul-de-sac he saw it, the still trashed abandoned house, trash strewn about with reckless abandon he could see as he approached And other more concerning objects besides beer bottles and cigarette stubs, small needles and sticker tabs also on the ground as he walked around the fence, finding the small hole he had snuck in the previous night it looked like a still image.

Each chair was just as he remembered it, the wind seemed to die down as he approached, noticing the stub of the blunt that he smoked from…

'God i hope om doesnt find out about that' he thought idly as he looked around, the fence that opened from the inside was close, yet something didn't feel right. Sparky noticed that was a really common feeling today, as he looked around, literally nothing had been moved, exactly as he remembered it.

'Wouldn't people moving knock some stuff over?' he thought to himself as he went to open the door of the building, he hasn't tried to go in last night, he was way too scared to even go near it, heading up to the solid wood door, he saw no handle for him to grip onto, thinking it was just because of the desolate nature of the building, Sparky attempted to push the door, rusted hinges stopping every movement as if it could never open.

Yet he was so sure he saw the woman enter the building multiple times.

Stepping away slowly from the building, Sparky felt his hand almost instinctively reach for the pendant at his neck, hand squeezing it tightly as he felt that it would be a terrible idea to turn his back to the strange building, something was off about it as he could see it now, the lines twisted in such a strange way that he couldn't tell, yet knew they were wrong, backing up until he got to the fence Sparky quickly ran towards the forest's edge, not stopping until he was well within the safe feeling of the trees and silence that it begat.

Until his legs were screaming and his muscles begging he kept running. Finally Sparky stopped running, hopelessly alone in the safety of the forest, the silent swaying of the branches around him, the windless echoing breeze that left a familiar whistling around him. No, that wasn't it, there was something about that whistling, something directional about it.

Sparky realized, now and only now alone how strange this was the feeling of safety, why did he feel safe, this was the middle of the woods, why did he trust this whistling, he couldn't tell but knew that he would have no true way to stop following it.

"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck" Sparky spoke to himself out of breath as he huffed, legs feeling like they moved on their own as they marched onward, until a familiar sight met his eyes.

The whistling was unbearably loud now, but felt like nothing as Sparky's horrified conclusion came true, he did go to the party, he did meet that woman, she did…

Sparky threw up at the sight, at the thought of the violation, as he stared forward at the dehydrated husk of a human impaled on the tree branches, bright blue woad markings still prominent on her body as he saw her hanging over a large stone altar, the one he remembers being so cold under his naked skin upon it were five objects as he shakily saw as he stood, the whistling getting even louder as he approached.

Upon the altar was a knife, the one he remembers, made of plain iron underneath it a thick waxed cloak and a slick flesh like mask, alongside a large white stone with a hole bored through, most prominently though was a large book, more a manuscript, or at least a part of it. reaching slowly towards the items, the moment he touched the book a flash of heat and pain hit his chest, yelling loudly the whistling stopped as he pulled the medallion out, a raw symbol burned into his clavicle even as he felt the coldness of the silver.

And yet, even as the pain clouded his mind, Sparky was still cognizant enough to hear the shuffling behind him, turning quickly and placing his back to the altar he started stuttering out an excuse to what he assumed at first was another human, only to stop mid sentence.

"I-swear-its-not-what-it-looks-like…wait what the fuck" Sparky spoke as he saw the goat-like creature ahead of him, a lopsided skull flitted unevenly with thorny horns, over a twisted scoliosis ridden spine with uneven arms and a unwholesome smell rivaling his own throwup, the satyr remained perfectly still as Sparky stared at it.

Reeling back from the monstrous sight sparky slowly reached backwards to the altar, as with each move of his own did he hear a creaking snapping of the bones of the Satyr, maintaining eye contact Sparky didn't realize until too late as his hand banged into the knife instead of grabbing it, the iron blade tumbling down loudly to the ground.

Eyes moved for a second, and a bone retching leap was made. The monster made flesh bounding its way unearthly towards Sparky, a definitely manly scream echoing from his lips as he was barreled over, though it stood short and thinner then him, sparky could find no purchase to stand as the goat beast landed on him, the thickness of his shirt the only thing stopping its rot scented claws from digging into his flesh.

"Woah woah hey!" Sparky yelled on repeat as he ineffectually swung his fist at the monster, its own shrillness of its cry echoing painfully in his ears until he felt blood trickle from, and yet even as it seemed to run out of breath its scream continued, only stopping when a booted foot impacted its snout nose heel first a sickening crack emanating as a far more human scream came from the monster.

"St-stay back" sparky yelled as he crawled away while the monster reached for its nose, scrambling across the ground, sparky managed to barely slip his fingers around the cold leather hilt of the large iron knife as he felt a hoof impact his back muscle, the area of his kidneys crumpling in under the force of the kick, a howling scream lifting from his lips as he brought the knife close, waiting for just a moment as the monster pounced once again turning its body mid air in an impossible manner as to claw or gnaw him, and then he struck.

A glancing blow his the arm of the Satyr as he screamed out in rage, flailing over from the pain of the hit, Sparky felt sense of invigoration as the monster mewled away from him, feeling enough strength in his bones, he was able to pull himself quickly from his prone position, only to fall as he got close to the monster landing on top of it as he heard its lungs forced of air both of them gasping for air as sparky's hand didn't leave the knife handle, though pulling back quickly sparky heard a wetness reverberate in the air as his hand met resistance, looking down he saw the blade planted to the hilt in the chest of the Satyr.

And he felt amazing, his back no longer hurting and the bruises and cuts seemed to disappear as he saw the blade draining the life from its goatish victim.

And just as quickly he stopped, as the euphoria left his system no matter how fresh and happy he felt he was horrified at the murder he commited even in self defense his mind ran in overdrive falling back and hyperventilating as his hand reached for the necklace, squeezing so tightly he thought he'd break something as he struggled to breathe for minutes, eventually he struggled yet managed to get his mind back to the correct mindset he stood quickly, grabbing his items from the altar, along with the knife he quickly ran, the sun now at middays shine as he tried to tuck the items amongst he belongings, leaving into the day to return home.

He had some bins to take out
 
ROOTS 1.3
With surprising speed, Sparky had made it home, making sure with all his will to avoid the party house, the unnerving feeling itself still wracking his body as he left the forest's edge, mind blank otherwise however as the series of events ran through his mind over and over.

"I…I killed someone?" Sparky whispered to himself as he walked with the items clutched tightly to his chest as if they'd grow legs and run away without a moment's notice, the streets were beginning to fill out as he made his way to his home, barely nothing faces and words of those around himself, Sparky kept walking, the knife hidden well underneath the heavy cloth coat, still wet and dripping with blood he could feel as his shirt soaked the dark cloth the only reason he didn't have an ambulance called to his immediate location.

Yet despite his spoked stupor, no one seemed bothered to notice Sparky, like many within the city of Brockton bay he was one of the many 'invisibles', like that girl in his class, 'Tyler' or something, Sparky found it strange that after last night his mind was drawn to her at this moment, along with his 'friend' in Greg, though they rarely did speak he was as close to a friend as sparky could think of in the hell of a school like Winslow, Sparky had at first found it hilarious that he'd be joining that school instead of the one he was supposed to in arcadia. His mother having a job there would allow them a discount on his tuition, and yet by some horrid luck his mother had missed the sign up period having to resort to Winslow high in the end.

Finally as familiar streets took over his mind, Sparky looked forward as he saw his home closing in, rushing in quickly as a strange longing for the safety of its walls urged him forth the door was opened with what could be called unnecessary force. Loosing a breath he didn't know he was holding, the items in his hands spilled out onto the floor in a clatter, an ill feeling once again reigning over his senses as his body veered towards throwing up once again, a steadying hand seeking the wall as his legs gave out from underneath him. Falling into a bumbling heap, head spinning the world seemed to fall away from Sparky as everything seemed to hit him at once, every event like a truck hitting his brain, the…the…that thing he couldn't call it a man in the forest, the feeling of its scream burning holes into his ears, that choking gurgling from its throat as he…

"Oh god…I'm a murderer" sparky said out loud as if was a world shattering revelation, perhaps it felt as so to the young man as each crushing agonizing second restricted his breathing like a vice grip on his throat choking him in the way he'd later realized his cousin said her asthma was.

Gasping as he sat, had clutching his chest, the ever cold silver sat close at heart a soothing focus that even in the most extreme circumstances he somehow knew would always be a place of safety, an anchor in the violent dark sea of his mind, second, minutes later he didn't know yet his hand never left its place on his chest, even as his grip turned painfully to a cramp, until his breath steadied and he no longer cried. Picking himself up slowly he moved with shuffling feet, dragging himself upwards along the wall, he slowly collected the items in front of him.

Yet as he looked downwards at the knife, the black ichorous blood still stains in its surface had dried leaving a clear and visible dark stain on the rather light hard wood, a panicked breath catching once more as he rushed to the kitchen looking for something, anything to clear the stain.

Eventually the fugue of panic flushed from his system, floor scrubbed with manic obsession and hands soaked in the watered down black blood, even now in a state more akin to water it stained his hands, after an hour of washing his hands were no less dark then when he began, the same for his shirt, though dark the stylized image of eidolon the hero on its front was far worse for ware, he knew no matter how much he liked the shirt he'd have to throw it out.

Eventually he had done all he needed to, the gnawing feeling inside him as the trash was taken out, now shirtless he felt all too helpless as he walked the bags to the bin. Locking himself inside his room otherwise, he stared at the amassed items on the bed, the knife more distant than the others as if it would leap out and bite Sparky's hand at any moment.

First looked over was the stone, plain white and without only the hole bored into the middle to distinguish it, easily denoted as man made by the scratch marks surrounding the hole, an almost electric thrum within it that, while certainly strange, felt almost natural, similar to the necklace around his neck.

Placing it back down he looked at the mask and the heavy cloth robes, the robes themselves delicately sewn and inscribed with various symbols Sparky noted as he saw, multiple goat like images and circles with similar designs to his own pendant marking itself over the robes, all in a thread of nearly the same dark greenish blue color of the robes, a strange color he couldn't name, the light shifting over it gave it an almost black quality yet in some it seemed closer to aqua, but never staying as the same color for a second time.

"What the hell are you made of?" Sparky questioned himself as he stared at the item of clothing vexing in that most peculiar of ways, strangely fitting well when he put it on, almost feeling internally like the fitted suit his mother had him wear for his aunt's wedding. Staring at the mask next, white and porous on the outside blank of any kind of inscription or mark, however when he looked at the inside, he saw nothing, a blank surface with only eye holes, clearly seeing through even though there was no such thing on the other side.

"Woah…wait is this…Tinkertech?" Sparky said almost instantly tossing the mask onto the bed before running to hide behind his desk, staring out periodically as to check that it didn't grow legs or start a murder spree or whatever tinker tech can do.

"Ok…so it's not…that kind of Tinkertech…maybe it wouldn't hurt to try and wear it, for just a second" he said slowly as he emerged from his emergency hiding spot to grab the mask, however strangely now there were numerous holes located on the back, each seemingly bored in with no sign of damage.

Slowly.

Ever slowly.

The mask approached the face of the boy, a slight tingling feeling pulling at his skin as the mask approached, stalking closer to his face within his solid grasp.

As it made contact the tingling turned first to static then burning as Sparky couldn't no matter his strength remove it from his face, yet no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to panic, eventually stopping trying to peel the mask from his face as he felt a slight trickle of blood come from underneath it, yet no pain emerged, strangely. Sparky felt nothing as the mask was on his face, testing slowly as he bent a finger back until he felt resistance. There was no pain or register of discomfort, only knowledge that his finger won't bend any further without damage. Stopping quickly Sparky wandered over and over again how he would remove the mask, he couldn't go to school like this! They'd call the cops on him he was sure.

Trying numerous things over the next hour, he eventually had to resort to more silly solutions, such as saying magic words from old cartoons and singing them too, none worked until he whispered quietly.

"Remove" and just as suddenly the mask fell from its purchase on his face, no longer the blank slate of white but now a multicolored and multi eyed goat like image from the nightmares of farmers everywhere. Horned with numerous rock solid curled horns and wide irises on all seven of the eyes that seemed randomly placed on the masked form, inside still the same suctioning blank slate.

"Ok…let's just…leave that over in the don't touch just now pile" he said jokingly as he placed it near the knife hand unconsciously still held far enough as to not contact the blade.

Finally looking upon the last item, the book, sat neatly on his bed he wondered at the title and spoke it out loud, mouthy and wordy though it was.

"The Secretum Veterum Gallorum: edicts and accounts of the witchcraft of the barbarian hordes as written by Augustinus Celsus and transcribed by Amos McAllister" the title and subtitle dominating the dark leather books cover, the fore page no help as Sparky read further.

"With accounts of various others such as the accounts of Abdul Alhazred, as noted in the Necronomicon" he read slowly, indexed pages filled with various artifacts and descriptions of frankly obscene and almost obsessive scrawling between each pages line by a heavy hand, added post print, both in Latin and English it was written with the original and later additions in English aside it.

Almost strangely absorbed in the book, Sparky barely noticed as the sun sunk below the horizon, absolutely engrossed in the writing of dark cults and their practices within, until finally he heard the honk of a car outside that shook him from his stupor
 
ROOTS 1.4
"So Brian…did anything interesting happen today?" Sparky's mother, one miss Maria Johnson asked slowly as they ate dinner, staring quizzically at her son, wearing his winter gloves at the table, the thick leather gloves with wool padding she had gotten him during winter break.


"Hmm? Oh no, not really mom, why?" Sparky questioned as if nothing was wrong begging his mother not to have him remove the gloves.


"Oh nothing, it must have just been a colder summer than I thought," she joked casually as they ate the pulled pork sandwiches she had made heaven on Sparky's tongue as he ate, deciding in the moment as he ate to try and divert some attention from his gloves.


"Oh right mom I found one of my old necklaces, decided to start wearing it again" Sparky said proudly as he held out the silver pendant on its leather cord.


"Oh really? I don't remember that one, can I see?" Miss Johnson said interested as she reached out towards the pendant, innocent in action.


And yet, the moment her hand started closing in on the pendant a shock of fear ran through Sparky's heart, said pendant pulled back with startling speed just as quickly.


"Sorry mom, the cords are really weak and I don't want it to break until I can get a new one" he said with a low chuckle trying his best to deflect blame.


"Oh, well ok?" Maria said quizzically, staring at her son.


'The hells going on with him today?' Her thoughts would ring, thinking eventually that it was just teenage hormones acting up and decided to leave it alone, the drain of work on her already enough to make her accept his strange behavior.


"So…mom you know how I you're a linguistics teacher and how much I love you right" Sparky said slowly as they finished up, his mother staring at him with a blank face.


"Yes and yes, what do you need from me , my dearest son?" she said in a joking tone, getting a chuckle from her son.


"Uh yeah, well the thing is I may have forgotten at the time but was wondering well" Sparky carried on struggling to speak what he wanted to say.


"Do you have any books on I think it was latin I could borrow… For something at school" he said with a nervous laugh, hands flicking into place calmly as finger guns poking towards her.


Staring longingly and hard at her son, Maria couldn't make heads or tails of it until finally she spoke, a jittering excitement in her tone as her son had finally taken an interest in linguistics too.


"Classical, vulgar or church?" She asked a near visible shine in her eye.


Another nervous chuckle emerged from Sparkys throat, struggling to come up with an explanation on why he didn't know which it would be.


Hopefully his mother would be too excited to notice.


—----------------


Finally given one of his mothers old reference notebooks for classical latin, sparky sat up looking through the heavy titled Book, deciding instead of saying the heavy title again, a tongue twisting mouthful.


He decided in his wisdom to artfully refer to it as the SVG like that gun he heard about from his friends game system.


Sitting down and once again looking through the book, as the night grew weary he felt some strange longing in him, pushing him to try the things within the book, he paid them no mind as he kept reading engrossed so heavily in the book that he almost forgot to wish his mother goodnight…almost.


Waiting a few hours after she went to bed, he emerged from his room, covered head to toe in heavy clothes to keep warm as he wandered to get a drink.


"They seem interesting, God I'm going to sound like a nerd but one try wouldn't hurt, on what though?" Sparky thought to himself as he walked around the kitchen, stopping for a moment as a discarded package caught his attention, picking it up and reading.


"Prachets glue traps: for mice, rats and scorpions?" The final portion of the title catching him off guard as he read it, remembering back to his mother's complaining of rats in the basement, a stroke of luck if ever there was one, sparky thought to himself as he quickly and quietly ran to his room to gather the SVG and come downstairs.


Searching seemed fruitless for Sparky as he looked high and low to see if something, anything was caught yet nothing revealed itself in the easily findable traps, hidden amongst the clutter of the basement.


"God damn it" he cursed as he dropped the book loudly onto an unsteady table, the concrete walls masking any sound as it tumbled down, a scurrying clatter of sounds reaching Sparky's ear as he desperately tried to stop things from falling.


Placing them back where they belonged, sparky searched for the sound, eventually finding it amongst an old linen trunk that was gifted from his grandmother and an old bread maker that was a wedding gift between his parents.


Sliding the trap as carefully out as he saw a rat stuck to it, its red white fur stained red as it appeared in its rush it had torn a mass or hair from its skin, painfully chirping away as he stared concerned towards the rat.


"It's ok little guy, I'm sorry I'm sorry just one try and then I'll let you go, ok" he practically pleaded to the squirming rat.


Opening the book, Sparky read through the different spells and incantations within it, at least the one or two he had the chance to decipher and translate properly, the English itself offering not much, taking his time he managed to find one that didn't sound too bad.


"On the practice of the barbarian in the use of the witchcraft of the repulsion of the flesh" sparky read the translated latin segment of writing.


"So like, making things afraid?" Sparky said shrugging as he continued on working slowly but surely as he read, seeing the hand symbol diagrams and steps as described in what to do.


"Through the self sacrifice of a drop of blood smeared over the opposite hand, the witches of gaul were capable of such spells as to repulse the flesh, casting their hand in concert to some vagrancy of language they call their own" Sparky read the passage slowly, the quelling of the rat making it difficult to focus.


"OK so I got to do this" sparky said as he chanted slowly and waved his hand in concert, two fingers extended upwards first, then downwards the ground and finally pointing to the rat the chanting some strange and foreign language that he couldn't recall the name of, sounding nothing of the times his mother would practice ancient languages.


And nothing happened.


Chuckling to himself, sparky knew it wouldn't work, taking a quick read through the translated passage once more before he released the rat, he noticed something he failed to complete on his first try.


He needed blood from the other hand on the casting hand, enough his fingertips were red.


Slowly and carefully he drew his hand from the gloves, darkened skin still clearly visible underneath as he found a pin to prick his finger, smearing the red over his opposite hand and trying again.


"Agdru, Zxultra, vnenos" he said, the intonations strange as he had worked for minutes to figure them out, eventually getting it down as he thrust his two blood soaked fingers forward.


And a horrid scream from the rat emerged as he saw its body twist, muscle rending itself from bone, choking out quickly as its throat ripped itself into two pieces.


In a panic packing up quickly sparky ran back to his room, the image of the rat flashing through his mind constantly as he hurried into bed like a scared child, trying his best to not think about the rat, and yet it's image would not leave his mind as he slept, school tomorrow would be interesting.
 
ROOTS 1.5
Sparky didn't get any sleep that night, millions of thoughts flashing through his mind, of the horrific fate of the rat at his hand, that too. Played through his mind as he stared at his hand in the early morning, as the twilight of the pre full dawn sunshine shot through his window, the low light illuminating the creases and shadows of his hand as he stared.

"Is…I have powers?" Sparky stared incredulously at his darkened hand as he spoke quietly, as if it was a cobra ready to bite, thinking to himself in anger as he rarely listened to Gregs ranting on heroes, he knew that his acquaintance would have spoken how heroes got powers. Grabbing his phone quickly from his side desk and separating its charger, Sparky started searching, though making sure to at least be on incognito mode as to have some form of protection, how much he didn't know.

And two long hours of studying interviews of heroes actually discussing how they got powers turned up with nothing, the only mention of magic being from the Chicago hero Myrrdin mentioning magic as the source of his ability, and yet the single isolated incident didn't truly impress Sparky as he listened to the interviews.

With what seemed to be startling commonality nearly each and every hero mentioned "suffering a traumatic incident" and refusing to elaborate further, with only a few ever bringing up what actually happened.

No matter how horrified though, Sparky felt in some strange place that he had not suffered enough to spontaneously allow him to do wizard shit, as his mind amply put it. Especially with his being the only power that seemed to require outside assistance besides tinkers and he wasn't currently making death machines out of toasters and megaphones like some psycho so he didn't think he was one of them… at least he hoped he wasn't one, he'd heard the horror stories about what happens to tinkers.

His hand unconsciously repeated the hand movements of the 'spell' he cast, burned into his memory like his first cape fight he saw, or the first concert he went to, the move almost robotic as he did them, over and over again his hand thrusted into the air, until he curled his hand slowly and signing.

"God my moms gonna hate if she gets a call about me sleeping in class" he whispered as he got out of bed, grabbing the book from its purchase under his bed, he opened it up with speed enough to cause wind to push his long hair out of his eyes as he opened the book and his phone, looking deeply at the described spells within, shaking his hands slightly as he carefully translated and read through as to avoid another 'rat incident'.

Searching for a few minutes he eventually found something he found interesting.

"Upon the mountains and forests of savage carpathia, there amongst its augury esque class before their humbling under the might of Roma, would enact strange and twisted rituals of foresight, seeing portents of the future through various mediums, like the han of the east too" the passage carried on as sparky read on, thinking humorously to himself 'man this Augustinus guy really was a class one racist huh' as he read, the original authors hatred for everyone and everything not himself absurd in a almost hilarious way.

Reading up quickly with his phone on various ways that this spell implied it could be done, the skepticism in Sparky reached its peak as he drew three coins forth and into a bowl, one he made sure to fill with a small table pillow as to muffle the sound, invoking the words once again inscribed in the messy handwriting in the page, and hand signs describing of seeking deeper secrets.

Carefully he tried as he moved his hands over and over, on autopilot as he repeated the chant, reading as it stated it required at minimum of half an hour to work, his brow creased as he continued, he needed to make sure, to know if he truly had powers…and then what to do with that information he didn't know.

"Dzh'thu Vlokoxz thru'llekek marehs xzuilpos" he finally finished as he once again tossed the coins into the bowl, stopping after the final intonation, yet once again like the first time nothing happened as he waited, holding his breath as he went to swipe on his phone to see if he did the augury motion right, only to stop as something played on his phone.

It seemed almost like a movie as he saw a golden sun, not yellow as you would expect, yet some awesome gold that shone violently beyond the horizon's edge, pulled itself slowly over the edge of the nothingness of the horizon, an army standing ready to face it.

Just as quickly the vision started it ended, phone turning blank once more as if nothing had happened, more confused then he began, staring at the black screen. Only one thought ran through Sparky's mind.

"The fuck was that?" as if it was some great revelation, the vision ending too quickly to genuinely see any details, annoying him further.

And yet this gave some strange reassurance, that he had abilities, he could….wait why did he think to be a hero, he's never had those aspirations before, only ever to make it big with his band and yet as he sat in the chair, staring at his blackened hands he thought about the things he could do, he could save or hurt anyone he wanted to with this power, did it need actual spells or just any hand waving would do?

He had so many questions flooding his brain as he sat in the chair. Thinking to himself about what he could do, some of the spells he saw within the book seemed terrifying to him, things that could truly hurt people, in ways he'd rather not think about, in monstrous ways that he would never forgive himself if he used.

Flipping the book page he saw the illuminated drawing of a man catching fire, the title for the piece called "the fires of surtr" shivering as to think to actually cast that on someone. It shook him to his core that he could possibly be capable of such a monstrous act as to use that.

Taking quick photos of the spell pages, Sparky didn't know why but he felt he couldn't take the book to school, something primordial within denying even the thought of taking it into danger.

"Ok if i'm going to be a hero i'm going to need a suit no?" he said to himself as he looked in his closet, trying to find anything that would work, until he stopped and smacked his forehead and reached under his bed pulling the mask and robes, knife hidden under the robes themself. A thirsting part of him telling him to keep the knife close, that he needed it, that it demanded so. And yet he resisted, leaving the knife to the side as he reached and fitted the robes and mask on again, strangely tight to his body despite its free flowing lengths, he could feel the robes as even now the mask numbed his body such that he felt he had no nerves.

He felt the strange lopsided weight however as he saw an empty scabbard on the waist, fittingly perfectly to the knife he assumed, hesitantly drawing the blade from his table where he laid it, he slid the knife into the scabbard, shimmering inlay on the metal scabbard seeming just a little brighter.

A satisfied huff as he looked into the mirror, even as the hood hung low it hid scarcely anything of the masks terrifying visage, seeming almost truly life like as he looked, leaning close to take a look as he saw his fingers run through the hair on the goatlike face, staring into each of the horizontally pupiled eyes in concert…until one blinked.

"Remove" he said in a definitely not scared voice as he took the mask off with maybe too much force. Tucking it away with the robes and knife hiding it once again. Breathing heavy sparky saw as he left the bored stone, a strange interest taking hold asa he took some leather strapping he had from various band necklaces to fill through it, keeping it close to his chest next to his pendant feeling satisfied as the smooth cool stone met his skin, he looked proudly in the mirror only to be startled by a alarm sound, looking at his phone he saw it was one for school…

"Fuck" he lightly said as his exhaustion reeally started to hit him, just as he heard his mother also getting up in the room down the hall.
 
If you couldn't guess I'm transmigrating my works and also I'm sorry that my grammar can be bad, I do understand and ut us a sticking point of shame for me, I'm genuinely trying my best to work it out
 

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