Chapter 1 - By the Pricking of my Thumbs
~The Stoop, Millennium City~
Kyse slid down the banister and caught himself in a conjured cushion of air before bounding over to the kitchen island and grabbing a bagel. He shoved it in his mouth and scooped a banana off the table. Through his bagel stuffed mouth he called to whoever happened to be present at that time of morning, “Late for school. Bye!” But due to the carbohydrate infused mouth blockage it came out more like “Ape sor fkool, why.” He skidded out the door and out into the streets of Millennium City.
A short time later he was skidding into Grace Memorial High School. The halls were empty, as he was late again, so he sprinted freely. He tried to sneak into pre-cal and get settled into his desk without notice, but that didn’t work out so well.
“Mr. Drayson. This is your second day this week to be late. Did you check in at the office?” Ms. Albrecht was fair, but tough.
“Ummmm… Not technically,” answered Kyse with an innocent grin.
“That should be your first priority then. These proofs can wait,” Albrecht said gesturing towards the white board.
Kyse sighed and dropped his backpack at his desk. “Yes, ma’am…”
He dreaded checking in at the office. They always wanted parental excuses, which was difficult without a parental unit. And it’s not like he could say he’d been out late raiding a Black Aces warehouse to dismantle stolen alien weaponry. At least, not without blowing his secret identity. He shuffled out of the classroom and down the hall toward the office. He still didn’t get how some other kid heroes managed all of this double life junk. The secret identity gig seemed like a waste of time to him. But his father, or creator, had said that hiding his existence was of ‘paramount importance’. Of course, his father, the priest Drayson, had been gone for over a month with no word. A twinge of sadness tugged at his heart, but he pushed it aside.
“Hi,” said the tow-headed teen with a smile as he entered the office.
“Kyse Drayson. Late again,” said the secretary. “You’re racking up an impressive tardy collection, you know?”
“I know.” He put both elbows on the counter and dumped his head into his hands for support. “I overslept.”
“And let me guess… Your father is still traveling. For business?” This was becoming a routine.
Kyse simply nodded. He hated lying. Something about it made him feel awful. So he did it as infrequently and with as little intensity as possible. Too many details only complicated a lie and made him feel worse, so he kept it vague and non-committal.
The secretary, an older heavy-set woman with glasses teetering on the end of her nose just smiled knowingly. “Alright then… Unexcused absence it is. Here’s your slip,” she said pulling it off the pad and handing it across the counter. “One more of these and you’ll be suspended, you know…”
Kyse sulked. Then he nodded. “How many till I get expelled? I already got booted from Westside. After two kick-outs I might get a reputation!”
The secretary laughed and sent him on his way.
And thus went his day. He hadn’t had time to finish his literature homework due to the patrol, so he took an ‘F’ for that. He’d skipped his history reading , so faked his way through a quiz. One class after another he was reminded how little he’d had time to accomplish schoolwork, and how much of a scholastic failure he was becoming. The one bright spot in the day was track. And for an hour he was lost in tossing his discus.
Joining the track and field team had been a whim. Trying to fit in with other teenagers, considering his unconventional personal history, had been a challenge. So picking up an extracurricular had seemed like a good way to make friends and be a part of the school spirit. So he’d become a Field Angel - the name of the track team. And discus had seemed like a logical fit. His ability to sense and read currents of air flowing around him and instinctively know how best to throw the discus to achieve maximum lift and accuracy was uncanny. And although technically the fact that he was a sylph incarnate wasn’t exactly fair gameplay, he never actually used his abilities to manipulate the air around the discus or alter the trajectory mid-flight. He thought that was a good trade-off. But track came to an end, as it did each day, and he finished out his day failing at all his other courses.
At the end of the school day, with his backpack slung low over his back and his head drooping, the crestfallen youth walked out of school and started the long slog home. In spite of the progress he was making becoming a hero, he felt deflated and defeated. Real life, something that he desperately wanted, was a disaster. He wanted to feel like a normal boy… But no matter what he did, he just felt like he didn’t fit in. There was a big part of him that just wished he could ditch the super-powers and live like a regular human being.
But there was another part as well. There was the part of him that was born of air. His spirit surged within him each time he reached into the ether and extended his consciousness into the elements around him. As he took flight, and rendered gravity a joke, he felt free and alive. And at those times he also felt very connected to the world around him. So the boy remained torn in his desires.
“Time for a pick me up,” Kyse said suddenly. He spoke to no one in particular, since no one was near him. He ducked into an alley way and hid behind a dumpster and ripped off his clothes. Shoving them into his back pack he concentrated on the necklace his father had given him and spoke the words which freed the spell trapped inside. “Pneumetha…” And in a flash he was in his hero garb – mask and all. It had been a departing gift from his father. And he loved it, because it wasn’t a lot of clothes to wrap up his body. He tightened up his backpack on his shoulders, spread his arms extending the glide wings beneath them, and summoned the gale to pull him into the sky.
Moments later he dropped himself in front of Club Caprice. He wasn’t the sort to enjoy the actual socializing that went on inside, but the lounge area had attracted him from the first time he saw it. He’d spent many afternoons sitting on the edge of the fountain, dangling his feet in the water. Something about the experience buoyed his spirit. Some strange mystical dude at the club one day had said something about air and water being mingling elements, but Kyse had paid little attention. He knew he liked it, and that was enough for him.
The constant hiss of falling water and the ripples on the surface of the fountain had already lulled him into a bit of a stupor when the stranger first approached him. In fact, Kyse couldn’t recall the man walking up. One moment he was alone. The next a tall dark man stood looming behind him.
“Clears the mind, doesn’t it?” The man had an accent. Kyse, being relatively unfamiliar with accents couldn’t place it. But it sounded like Piers Morgan’s. Only less old man-ish. The man looked older than Kyse, but not by a whole lot.
“Huh?” Still pulling himself from the calm that the fountain had induced, Kyse didn’t really follow the train of thought.
“The water… It brings clarity. I was commenting on your apparent fascination with the fountain.” There was something predatory about the man’s demeanor. He was a handsome enough guy, pretty even, but something about him reminded Kyse of a cat stalking a mouse. The teenager was immediately put at odds.
“Yeah… Guess so…” He pushed off his discomfort and smiled broadly. “I like the way it feels on my feet.”
The man leaned over the edge of the fountain to see Kyse’s feet. “You’ve no shoes.”
Kyse chuckled through a sigh. “Yeah… They’re like jail for your feet.” He couldn’t count the number of times he’d said that since he came to Millennium City. It always took him as strange how attached people were to their footwear. Everyone wanted to comment about bare feet, like it was strange to let the things out of their cages.
“Might I ask you something… It’s a strange question. Sort of a riddle.” The man’s smile deepened, but for some reason it didn’t seem friendly.
“Sure, man! I like riddles!” Before the man could ask his, however, Kyse jumped the gun. “Like this! I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation, and I surround every place. What am I?”
The man looked taken aback. He looked like he was about to speak, but then didn’t. Bringing a finger to his lips he “hmmmm’d’” in consideration. “You are… The Quaternion.”
Kyse screwed up his face and laughed out loud. “What the heck is that!?”
“It is the Life side of the universal tree. It is the cosmic opposite of the qliphothic plane. It is the four realms of reality and embodies the multi-verse and all life within it…” The man said it as if he were reciting the ABCs.
“I don’t know what any of those words mean, man…” Kyse’s expression was one of pure innocent delight. “But that’s not the answer.”
There was a long pause where the two beings stared at one another. No words were exchanged. “Well?” The stranger broke the silence.
“It’s the letter ‘e’. It begins end. It is the end of time and the end of space. It’s essential to the word ‘creation’. And it surrounds the phrase ‘every place’.” Kyse smiled like he’d won a race. He pointed a finger at the stranger and said, “Gotcha.” His bright blue eyes twinkled. “Your turn. What riddle did you wanna ask me?” The teenager’s feelings of unease had passed completely. He was lost in the game.
The stranger seemed taken aback. He regarded Kyse as if he’d seen a ghost, his expression blank. Then he began speaking… “Where does the wind come from?”
“No one can tell me.” The words came out before he’d had a chance to think. Kyse blinked in surprise. “What the heck,” he muttered in surprise.
“Where does the wind go?” The man wasted no time before hammering away at another riddle.
“Nobody knows.” Again the words were wrenched from Kyse’s mouth with no thought. “Dude,” the young man said suddenly. “That’s too freakin’ weird!” He looked up into the stranger’s eyes and was taken aback with the expression that met him. The man looked at Kyse as if he were looking at a stack of hundred dollar bills. “Uhhhh… Imma take off. I got homework to do…” He jumped up and snatched up his back pack.
“One moment… What’s your name?”
“I’m Kyyyyyiiiiii mean Microburst.” The boy sucked at secret identities. For a moment, he’d forgotten he was in uniform. “I’m a hero. Registered. Microburst…”
The stranger held out his hand with purpose. “You’ve no idea the pleasure it is meeting you. My name is Eli.”
“Hey,” said Kyse with a tepid grin. He took the man’s hand and a surge and shock went through him then quickly passed. “Nice to meet you…” He snatched his hand back and ran out of the lounge, looking over his shoulder only once. He high-tailed it back to The Stoop.
~
