Strange Happenings

Tuesday, October 23. 7:43 am

As he rounded the corner, James caught sight of the bright yellow bus and more importantly, the final student entering its doors.
“WAIT!” He shouted as he began sprinting, one arm waving frantically in the hopes that someone would see him. In the back windows, he was able to see his rowdy peers. One guy with sandy hair caught sight of him and nudged his neighbour. Instead of calling to the driver to wait like any decent person, they began to laugh and wave goodbye before turning around again.
“Bastards,” James muttered darkly.
The bus began to slowly move and in a final act of desperation, he said, “Ocius.” He felt the extra burst of energy and within a second, was jogging at normal speed just behind the doors. The driver’s surprised face was visible in the side mirror and the bus rolled to a stop.

Panting, he nodded to the disapproving driver and made his way down the crowded aisle. “That was stupid,” Michael said as he moved his backpack to let James flop down beside him. “What if someone other than me saw you?”
“Well, no one other than you saw me so I’m good. Plus if I’m late for English again, the old Scrooge’ll phone my parents then I’ll be grounded and sneaking out is such a waste of energy,” James said, “You free after school today? We could practice in the clearing and make our way to the club after.”
“Can’t,” Michael said, “Busy today. Have to play babysitter to Lauren.”
“You’ll still make it to the club though?”
“Yeah, yeah, wouldn’t miss it. I’ll meet you there.”
“Alright man.”
The bus arrived at the school and Michael got up, “Sorry bro, I gotta hand in this lab report to Mr. Smith, I’ll see you at Math.”
“Later.”

Tuesday, October 23. 8:15 pm

“Move your arms like this and as your fingers reach the top, say ‘tempestatem.’”
“Tempestatem,” everyone chorused. Thunder rumbled and small, dark clouds formed above three people, water falling onto the tiles in a steady rhythm. James smiled proudly at his storm cloud, but still he looked worriedly at the people around him. Michael had not shown up like he said he would. It wasn’t like him to miss magic lessons. Michael loved it even more than he did.

“You must say it with confidence, with authority, with the correct pronunciation,” the Magister said with a frown, “By next week, I want everyone to read the next 100 pages of the Latin textbook. Practice your spells and above all, make sure no one sees you.” He stopped, his hard gaze met the eyes of all his students.
“But Magister,” Melissa said, a girl with curly read hair and powerful magic. She was one of the few who was able to conjure a storm cloud, “There hasn’t been an attack for nearly three months now; surely we’re out of danger?”
“Never let your guard down,” the Magister said grimly, “Not only are we under attack, but it would not do for the human populace to know that mages exist, something that you have all been told when you first entered these doors. Now, class dismissed.”
The students filed out in silence. James paused at the doorway to look at the wall that had six pictures of people on it. Each person was a victim who had shown a lot of potential, but was attacked. They were no longer mages. Shaking his head, James walked into the cold night air, and began to head home. A dark figure moved behind a tree to his left and James immediately adapted a defence position. The figure walked out into a patch of light made by a streetlamp.
“Michael,” James said, relaxing, “What are you doing here? You missed the club.” It was then did James notice the dark shadows around his friend’s eyes and how his iris had a red tint.
“You okay man? Was Lauren really so bad?”
“I’m sorry James, but I’ve got to do this,” Michael said as he walked closer, his fingers outstretched.
James felt his hairs rising, and began to slowly back away, “What are you talking about? Michael?” Suddenly, Michael lunged at him and the two fell onto the pavement. James hit his head with a loud crack. Where Michael’s palms touched his skin, the area there turned ice cold. He could feel his magic seeping away. His eyes closed, unable to bear watching his friend acting in this manic behaviour. The last thing he saw before he blacked out were the photographs of those six people on the wall at the club. “Now they’ll be seven,” James thought before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Tuesday, October 30, 2:40pm

The school bell ring and the hoard of high schoolers flowed out of the school doors.
“Hey Michael!” James shouted at the familiar back, and ran to catch up with his friend.
“Hey,” Michael said brightly.
“Man, that English assignment sucks. You wanna come over today after dinner and work on it?”
“Can't James, busy tonight.”
“Where’re ya going?”
“To a club.”
James studied his friend with interest, “A club? Huh, didn’t think you were one for clubbing. Can I come?”
Michael looked at him with regret and said, “Sorry, it’s exclusive.”
James shrugged, trying to ignore the feeling of déjà vu, “S’ok. Not your fault. Hey, I didn’t get to tell you about that new video game I got.”
When James got home, he went straight to his room and lay on his bed. He felt something hard and after some digging, he pulled out a textbook. "Why on earth would I study Latin?" He asked before throwing it to the floor.