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Altair
It was fortnight after my twelfth birthday when I discovered I wasn’t as different as the rest of the people in my village thought I was. My sister Sybella was always the golden child, her powers came to her naturally while mine didn’t. She could conjure and cast spells by the age of four while I was still trying to figure out what the strange symbols in my text books meant.
It was about five in the evening and my mother had taken the time, while my father was out at a bar, to try and teach me. But even for her, she was afraid of the slightest creak in the door that she couldn’t focus very much on me.
We were in the middle of our lesson when we heard the front door open, and from the corner of my eye, I saw my father stagger into the house. My mother kept her head down in fear. She knew better than to look up when my father entered the room. I could taste the tang of alcohol on the tip of my tongue. It made me shudder as I set my book down.
He looked over at us with his blackened gaze. A venomous glare glued to me and my mother. “Something the matter, queer?” his words slurred as he spoke. “What are you and the whore doing?” he asked as he staggered closer to us, slowly undoing his belt.
A noise almost like a whine left my mother’s lips like it scared her to be any closer. She scooted towards me a fraction of an inch.
I could have sworn I saw the slightest hint of a smirk quirk at his lips. He grabbed a fistfull of her hair and forced her up. “What’s the matter, Alysia hm?”
She choked on a sob as she held her head. “N-N-Nothing, d-darling…”
I glared at him and stood up then. “Leave her alone!”
“Don’t raise your voice, worthless cur!” he roared as he struck me with the belt’s cold steel. Again, and again, and again, till he got tired, grabbed me and threw me against the glass of our coffee table. Shards of the unforgiving material cut into my skin, there was no part of me that was left unscathed. I lay broken on the floor in my own blood as my father stalked over and nearly jerked me off the floor.
My mother cried out for him to stop as she ran forward and pulled me away. “A-Altair, go to Aaron’s.”
“But mo-”
“Go!” she screamed.
I looked away and quickly ran out the door. Behind me I heard the sounds of thuds, clangs, and my mother’s screams in the unforgiving chilling night air. I headed quickly to my neighbors’ as I slowly pulled out the remaining shards from my skin. They always took care of me when I needed it but I could tell that they were tired of it by the way they led me to the bathroom. They helped me wash off and sent me to Aaron’s room. To be honest, the only reason I liked being there was because of him. I liked him, I enjoyed following him around and learning his own tricks in the warlock world. He wasn’t the most social guy ever but he took the time to get to know me and teach me.
It was with him, then, when I learned my first spell, successfully. It actually worked and I couldn’t begin to explain how much that made my life, how much I was like everyone else now. I liked him. And not a friendly like, I really liked him.
He wasn’t like everyone else, at least I didn’t think so. We were in his room a few hours later. I was shuddering from the pain with every turn of the page but I was finally able to manage a spell no matter how much I was broken. He was congratulating me on finally learning one of the most basic spells. He grinned his always cheeky grin and put his hands together. “Finally, Altair! Nice job.”
I looked up at him from the book and smiled sheepishly, “Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
“I know,” he said with his grin still plastered on his face. “You staying for dinner?”
I shrugged, I never knew how long I would stay here. I hated going home. Silently, I closed and book and avoided his gaze.
“Hey, Altair?” he said after a moment of silence, there was something in his voice I couldn’t put my finger on. It was sympathetic, it was how my mother sounded when people praised Sybella and not me.
“Yea?” I mumbled looking up at him.
“I’m not…like that you know…”
Stricken, I looked away. “What do you mean…? Not like what…?”
“Hey, don’t hide the facts…I could tell for a while…I’m sorry…” he said as he looked down and rubbed the back of his head. “I mean…I still want to be your friend though, you’re the only one who really talks to me. And well…it’s fun, it’s different, you don’t have expectations of me like everyone else…ok?”
I looked back at him for a moment. My hands folded in my lap in a tight grip. I felt stupid, but I’m glad he didn’t shun me away. Everyone else would, I saw what they did to the last person who was like me. He’s not around to look at anyone anymore… “Sure, Aaron…I-I think it’s safe to go home now…” I stammered as I got up with my books. Quietly I padded downstairs and out the front door without waiting for a response.
I looked down at my hands once I stepped outside into the chilling air. I watched the golden sparks dance along my palms in the darkness. I couldn’t help but smile. Gold…I haven’t seen gold for a long time…
Looking around the empty village, I curled one of my hands and held it over my heart. I couldn’t wait to tell Sybella. This was something worth going home for. I deserve to have the warlock name whether everyone else thinks so or not.
I knew there were risks to being a warlock. I knew there were hunters out there who killed us off by the dozens. But I’m not afraid. To that I say: My name is Altair. I am a warlock. And to all you hunters out there…I’m ready.
Leaving the thought behind, I ran back home, it was all I could do. It was dark in the house now. My heart sank as I dreaded the worst. Slowly, I opened the door and walked in. I heard a light squishing sound as I walked in. I froze before turning on the lights again. I felt cold when I saw the blood everywhere, and I meant everywhere. It was barbaric. My mother’s lifeless body was on the ground in her bedroom as I peeked in. My father was crouched by her side. He placed a hand over her and used his dark magic to bring her back. She convulsed, she thrashed, she screamed making my blood run cold before slacking.
“Did you like that, whore? Huh?” he nearly cooed to her.
She didn’t answer but broke down in sobs. “Let me die…!” she repeated it over and over again and all I wanted to do was bring her some relief.
“Oh you want to die?” he said as he barked with laughter. “Sure, I’ll let you die.” He said.
Quickly, I stepped away before I was noticed, however, I didn’t miss the sickening sound of broken bones and stainless steel. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and ran out the front door. I ran and ran and didn’t dare turn back. I’m sorry, mama…I’m so sorry, mama…
