Eternity

Chapter 1-2

“Hey, old hag. Come on out wherever you are,” Dylan called out the moment he had made it home.

He had regained consciousness and packed up some stuff before rushing out of his single dorm room and driving his car like a man possessed. Fortunately, the spirit, or whatever it was, was gone by the time that he regained conscious. He reached his hometown in less than three hours and accelerated the car to his grandmother’s house.

His parents had passed away when he was only ten years old. Fortunately, Grandma Rose, his maternal grandmother, had been willing to take him in. Otherwise he would have ended up in the foster care system.

“How rude!”

“Grams!” he yelled out happily before pulling the petite old lady into his arms and twirling her around like a sack of flour.

Their combined laughter filled up the silence in the house for the next few moments. Grandma Rose and he were very close. There were no other relatives. They could only depend on each other. He was terrified of losing the only family member he had left and he was certain that she knew it, too, judging by the intense conversations she initiated once in a while.

“Why are you home, Dylan? Did anything happen?”

He embraced his grandmother tightly and breathed in the familiar scent of rosemary and sandalwood. He remained in that position for a while longer before responding to her question.

“Yes, Grandma. Can we sit down and talk?”

The old woman eyed him seriously for several seconds before nodding her head.

“Let me make us some chamomile tea. Can you grab the biscuits, please? They are in the pantry.”

“Vanilla and orange biscuits?”

“Yes. They are your favorites, aren’t they?”

He chuckled along with his grandmother before rummaging through the pantry for the biscuits. He made a mental note to learn how to bake those biscuits. After all, Grandma Rose was getting on in years and she might not live for much longer. The thought made his heart clench painfully and he inhaled deeply a few times to calm down. Once they were seated in the dining area, he looked at his sole relative solemnly.

“Grams, something weird happened earlier. I…I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

“Go on, Dylan. I’m listening.”

“I was talking to Scott via Skype as usual when a figure appeared behind him. I thought that it was either Chris or Alicia, but Scott was insistent that there was nobody else in the room.”

He half-expected the old lady to chide him for letting his imagination run wild. Instead, she had nodded at him before gripping both of his hands tightly.

“Dylan, listen to me.”

He noted at the grimness on her face and his heart thumped harder and faster. That sounded ominous.

“What is it? You’re scaring me.”

“Your parents…didn’t die in a car accident.”

“Huh? What…what are you trying to say? How did they die, then?”

He waited impatiently for her to breathe in deeply and gather her thoughts.

“Do you believe in the supernatural?”

“What? Grams…” He stopped and touched her forehead to make sure that she was not feverish, but she swatted his hand away and stared at him with a serious expression on her face.

“Your mother was a fire witch. Your parents died in a magical battle during one of their assignments. As witches, we are supposed to keep the balance in the supernatural world.”

His eyes widened in disbelief before he cracked and laughed hysterically.

“Grams, I think living alone is a bad idea. Maybe I should consider one of those old folks’ homes for you to stay in while I’m away at college. You have gone senile or insane. Maybe both. Maybe I should—”

“Dylan!”

His grandmother’s stern tone halted his rambling.

“Yes?” he answered hesitantly.

“I know that it’s hard to believe, but let me explain everything to you. Eat a biscuit. Or two.”

He obliged by cramming two biscuits in his mouth and chewing noisily. He missed his grandmother’s food, especially these biscuits. He washed them down with several gulps of chamomile tea.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“There have always been supernatural beings living in every country all over the world. They—”

“You mean like vampires, werewolves, fairies…?”

“Yes, Dylan. Now let me finish,” she admonished him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

He winced apologetically and gestured for her to continue with her explanation.

“Sorry, Grams.”

“Anyway, they…the supernaturals, I mean, generally keep to themselves. The Thorntons, that’s my maiden last name, come from a very ancient and magical bloodline.”

“So, you’re what? A witch?”

“Yes.”

“A fire witch like Mom?”

The old woman shook her head.

“Every Thornton manifests their magic differently.”

He digested the information and gazed into her eyes for a few heartbeats before questioning her further.

“Alright. So, what exactly are you?”

“My power lies in herbs and potions. I can make plants grow even in the winter.”

“Oh! Now I understand why our garden has never died even in the coldest weather.”

“Yes, exactly.”

He nodded and stuffed another biscuit in his mouth. He almost choked on it when he thought of something.

“Wait a minute. What am I?”

“Complicated.”

He rolled his eyes at the old woman.

“Grams, seriously. We’re not talking about my relationship status on my social media accounts.”

“Neither am I. I’m being serious.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. I’m complicated. What does that even mean?”

“Do you remember Snuffles?”

“My cat? It died so long ago.”

“It died when you were two years old. Do you remember what happened after that?”

“Of course. I…”

The words died in his throat. He’d loved that cat, but he honestly, and surprisingly, couldn’t remember what had occurred after its death.

“Your mother and I had to work together to put a blocking spell on you, Dylan.”

“What? Why? What’s a blocking spell?”

“You magicked the cat back to life and your mother had to reverse the spell. With some difficulty, I might add. We couldn’t explain to you why something like that should never be done without the right reason.”

“Magicked back to life? Reversed the spell? What are you talking about?” He had a bad feeling now.

“We had to cast a powerful spell on you to make sure that your magic would remain dormant until your twenty-first birthday.”

“That was last summer. We celebrated it together, remember?”

“Yes, it was. Yes, I remember. I’m not that old yet, Dylan.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” he muttered softly while drinking the tea.

“What?” Grandma asked and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Nothing, Grams.”

He then gave the old woman his most guileless grin, but she narrowed her eyes at him before shaking her head and moving on.

“Anyway, your magic is awakening gradually. Every strand of magic will be at your disposal by Christmas or possibly even earlier.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question. What kind of a witch am I?”

“The most powerful that our bloodline has ever seen. You are a necromancer.”

“What? Like resurrecting dead people or animals?”

“Uh-huh. Even plants.”

“Cool,” he responded before he thought of something else. “Wait a minute! Can I revive Mom and Dad?”

“No!”

The vehemence in his grandmother’s tone shocked him into total silence.

“Grams—”

“No, Dylan! Every magic comes with a price to pay. Dead people are supposed to stay dead.”

“Grams,” he pleaded with tears brimming in his eyes.

“No, Dylan. That is the fastest and surest way for necromancers to turn evil. Necromancers who break the law of nature have to pay the price. Always! Promise me, Dylan, that you will never do that.”

He glared angrily at the biscuits in his hand. He was no longer craving them. He attempted to calm himself before nodding in agreement.

“I promise, Grams,” he consented, albeit with plenty of hesitation.

“Good. Now, I have some spell books I want you to take back to your dorm room. Study them and practice well, but always remember to follow the instructions. Are you returning tonight?”

“No. It’s Friday anyway. I’ll make the trip back on Sunday afternoon.”

“That’s wonderful. How about you accompany your old grandma to the living room? There is that zombie drama on the television that I love so much. Come on.”

He snickered at his grandma’s enthusiasm and trailed after her. He was excited about the spell books, which Grandma Rose had promised him, but he figured he could collect them later. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with his grams. Everything else could be put on hold for the time being.