Young Writers Society

What she said were things that he had expected. Despite never having time traveled before today, he wasn't completely ignorant of its depictions in fiction. What Wilson said made sense. They were basic rules that would prevent time from being changed drastically. He could handle that responsibility, at the very least.

But as he went to approach the front door, he found that he was suddenly too nervous to even walk off the sidewalk onto their driveway. He was going to meet his parents. The people he had heard about for years, but had no memories of. And what if he blew it? What if he said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing, and they ended up kicking him out of the house before he was able to be satisfied?

Better yet, could he even be satisfied? It was just a simple conversation. How could that ever make up for the years that he had been without them? He would have one memory of them to cling onto for the rest of his life, and that was it. How would that ever be enough?

He turned to Wilson. He had never been one for talking to others when he felt stressed or concerned, but she was the only one who could possibly understand his plight. "Wilso-I mean, Willy?" he asked. "This can't be your first time going back to the past. You've gone to visit people you once knew, right?"

His gaze dropped down to the sidewalk. "So how do you deal with it? The people inside there...they-they died. I think only a little while after today. How can I-how can I go in there and talk them when I know this is the only chance I'll ever get to see them?"

He had been taught that revealing his emotions was a sign of weakness, but he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face at the thought of never being able to his mom and dad again.

Wilson felt her heart ache, and suddenly she began to question how quickly she'd chosen to pull this boy into his own past. Admittedly, she wasn't thinking much about it at the time, but as soon as she saw the tears on Blake's face she realized she'd bitten off more than she knew how to chew. Though she hadn't caught on at first, she realized that Blake was going to go see his parents, who were lost to him in his present.

When she'd peeked into his past, she saw the house, and people she thought were his family, but she didn't know they died. She didn't know that it meant so much to him either. She didn't look that far.

She bit her lip, and hesitantly put a hand on Blake's shoulder, giving him a small pat before she looked away, deciding it would be best not to look directly at him while he was crying, for his sake.

"I've known a lot of people. More than most people will get to know in their lifetime," she admitted, not sure how to explain how she was different than most people, but sure that now would be the wrong time to try to. "It never gets easier. You've gotta be brave. You've gotta be strong. And most importantly, you've gotta still leave your heart open to love." She paused, and looked vaguely in Blake's direction with a little smile.

"You wanna know how I do it?" she closed her eyes as her cheeks bunched up. "I just seize the moment. I tell myself, if this is my chance, I'm going to take it. I'm going to be the best me I can be, even if right now that's not a lot, and I'm just gonna... go for it. Because reality is, no matter how many times you play back a moment or an event and the hundreds of ways you could've done it better, you always learn best by just trying your best. And if you mess up, you learn. If things go terribly wrong, you fix it. And if or when that fails, you get your friends to help you. Which is why I'm here."

She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to Blake. It sort of came out of nowhere.

"I'll be your friend. Even though I'm mostly a stranger, you can do this!"

He took the tissue; he was far too focused on his nervousness to question where the tissue had magically appeared from. Frantically wiping away his tears with his sleeve and blowing his nose into the tissue, he looked back up at Wilson and the house before him. The tissue was quickly folded and slipped into his pant's pockets. He thought over what she had said for a good couple of minutes before he finally had the courage to take a step forward.

And another one.

And another one.

And another one.

It wasn't until he was right in front of the door that he came to a stop, mainly because he had been hit by a tremendously strong smell from inside. It made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, and he had to take a few steps back to handle the strong stench. It was a familiar smell - rosemary and a couple of other herbs he used in the academy when summoning demons. Even more suspicious was the thing of chalk left out in the driveway. That wasn't the sort of chalk that a kid would normally play with; it was a fancy, expensive brand that the school used because it was easier to write with and created better lines.

But that didn't make any sense, because his parents hadn't even known that demons existed.

He turned back to Wilson. "Does this place smell odd to you, too?"

Wilson followed close behind as Blake inched his way up to the door, trying not to get too antsy with every tiny step.

It was... almost comical, if she didn't know how much of a big deal it was to him to see his parents. Obviously, she would never laugh at him, but she had to admit she was tempted when he stepped back from the door, after finally making it there. But when he popped the question she realized that it was because of the smell. The smell that, she hadn't noticed til he pointed it out. For whatever reason, he nose was usually "off" on default, and it wasn't until someone would remind her that smells existed that she'd take in a big sniff. Which she immediately regretted doing when Blake asked.

"Oh. Geez. Wow," she said, raising her brows. "Whew, that's strong." She coughed.

When the smell shot up her nostrils, it was as if her eyes and senses around her opened, and everything was just more... stimulating. She coughed a few more times for good measure.

"They must uh, really like their incense, huh? You'd almost think..." another cough. "...they were burning it to like, cover something up, haha. Maybe they just... never clean their house? Or do their laundry?"

"I don't think so," Blake said, a horrible feeling settling in his chest. There was only way he could describe the sensory details flooding him right now, but that just couldn't be right. He had grown up being told that his parents were normal people. People who had been kind and just and had been everything that a kid would want their parents to be like, but ultimately were nothing more than civilians.

That was the picture perfect life he had imagined them leading. A life not cloaked in secrets and lies. A life where they could enjoy every day without having to watch their back for an enemy, and a life where they would accept strangers with open arms. He had been so certain that they would let him in without question based on what he had been told, but now he was beginning to suspect that he wouldn't even get passed their doorway.

He took a deep breath.

He was a magician. Someday, he was going to be there at the very top of the government, with legions of demons at his command. That was his destiny. He wasn't just some scared boy - he was Blake Croft, and he could handle himself better than this.

"Willy?" he questioned. "Have you ever heard of magicians?"

Wilson blinked, and slowly turned her head to look at Blake.

She knew of a lot of things. Not everything - which, she was grateful for, but also didn't understand. But she did know that magic was... a thing. She'd seen it a few times before, but in her experience, the only time people brought it up was because they used it or knew someone who did, which meant she was a lot closer to magical stuff than she expected to be. Just a moment ago, she didn't think Blake was more than a normal kid. But then he had to go ask about magicians.

Which meant there were even more unknowns left to her for what would happen next. And no matter how much she would've wanted to, she couldn't peer into the future to see them. Which also meant she would have to be prepared for more things that could go wrong or weird, because magic always brought with it not-normal things.

She raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk on her face. If she had to guess by the look on his face, he might've been a magician himself.

"You mean like the ones in the movies? Or the real ones? Because I know of both," she said.

The world was a mysterious place. For all the he knew, Wilson could be talking about the magicians that did shows in crowded little auditoriums, or magicians who honestly wielded magic. He might have objected to the last category a long time ago, but May had once mentioned that they existed. That was always something he could doubt in the past; a part of him had honestly suspected that May might not have been quite there. But if he was going to the past? That changed everything.

"The type that summon demons," he said. His voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid that the people inside his old home would have somehow heard him speak the phrase. This was the safest way to answer her question. If she did know, she would understand what he was talking about. If she didn't, he would give an explanation.

"Ohhhhhh," Wilson said in a whisper with wide eyes. She nodded. Demons. Wow. It's been a hot minute since she met any of those. "Shoot man, you think your parents are okay then? We should make sure." She knocked on the door.

Blake's eyes widened in horror, and he went to reach a hand out to grab onto her shoulder and pull her back from the house. If they bolted, they might be able to get far enough away that his parents didn't realize they were the ones who had knocked on their door. He still had to process too much information to be adequately prepared for meeting his parents. The smells. The chalk. They weren't civilians no matter how much he tried telling himself that they were; they were magicians.

And a magician would never trust a stranger.

The door opened.

There was a man standing on the doorstep. A man whose features resembled his own just enough for him to guess that he was looking at his father, and a man who appeared to be just the right age - his early twenties, just like his wife would be. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him. His clothes were casual, just a t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. Nothing about him screamed magician. For a moment, Blake almost was able to convince himself that his father was a completely normal person.

But magicians never trusted.

He would undoubtedly have some sort of demon hanging around him. Maybe an imp on the shoulder, or a foliot doing some sort of household task in the hallway behind him. He checked the planes one by one, with a meticulousness he rarely used. He couldn't miss anything. To do so would be putting his life - and Wilson's - on the line.

But there wasn't a demon standing around him.

There didn't need to be.

His father was the demon.

He gave the two standing in front of the house a warm smile, a smile that Blake could barely register in his shock and horror. "Can I help you two with something?"

"I was hoping to visit some family," Blake said, just barely keeping his voice steady, "but I think I came to the wrong address. Sorry about bothering you."

He grabbed onto Wilson's wrist and started heading back towards the street. It was a struggle not to run from the truth that was finally beginning to dawn on him, a truth that had been there all along but he had just been too blind to see.

Wilson stared wide-eyed at the man along with Blake. For just a second, she took a closer look at the guy who looked a lot like Blake, but in an 'I'm your father,' sort of way. Ohhhhh. That's what he meant by demon.

A small grin grew on her face but then Blake decided to ruin it by grabbing her and chickening out. She pulled back, flustered, and then whispered to Blake at a level only he could hear.

"Wait, what do you mean you came to the wrong address? This is the right address! That guy there is obviously-" she made a face, pointing back at Blake's dad with her eyes. "You know! Go talk to him! Now is your time to shine!"

Then, stopping and swiveling around on the path to look back at the man in the doorway, she gave a salute-like wave.

"Sorry about my friend Max can be a little shy. We actually did wanna talk to you, if you've got time," she winked at the last word - at a self-gratifying joke that no one else would get, but she winked nonetheless.

Blake turned and gave her one of the strongest glares he had ever mustered. His father - because dad was too personal, especially after this groundbreaking/horrifying/hedidn'tknowhowtodescribeit discovery - watched this all with a look of growing confusion on his face. Maybe he noticed the resemblance. Maybe he smelled the herbs. Whatever the reason for the look was, Blake didn't care.

"I'm pretty sure this is the wrong address," Blake said with a conviction, the glare transitioning into a look that clearly said he didn't want to deal with this right now. "Sorry for bothering you again."

He gave Wilson's wrist another tug. Dropping his voice down to a whisper as he started to head back towards the sidewalk, he hissed, "I need to process this, so let's go."

When Blake gave her the look, she immediately realized she had made a mistake. Now, what mistake that was, she wasn't entirely sure, but she didn't fight him when he again insisted they were at the wrong place and began to pull her away from the house.

Then she finally understood. "OOoOoooh," she said quietly, keeping her voice at a quiet whisper. Her face flushed a little in embarrassment and she peeked back to see Blake's dad watch them go. "Sorry, sorry I - I forget that's a thing," she said hurriedly, muttering under her breath.

He didn't stop walking until they were on the very end of the street. Once they reached that spot, Blake finally let go of Wilson's wrist and threw himself down onto the bench that was only a foot away from where he was standing. He took a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm himself. Even as he repeated the process a second time, he could already feel tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes.

He didn't know how he was supposed to handle this right now. How he was ever supposed to handle this. He stared down at the palm of his right hand in disbelief. He could make out veins of blood underneath his skin. At least, that was what he thought it was. Now he wasn't so certain. What happened when a magician had a child with one of their demons? Why would someone ever want to do that? And why did that someone have to be his mother?

Wilson took a deep breath and plopped down beside Blake, saying nothing. If he needed to process that meant he needed silence and time to think, right? Unless he was a verbal processor, which she was pretty sure she could assume he wasn’t, since he remained silent.

She stretched her arms out on the back of the bench and leaned back, sticking her legs out and apart. Then she tilted her head back and rested it on the bech.

This would probably take a while. She sighed.

After staring at his hand for another minute, he looked up and over at Wilson. He didn't say anything for another moment. He just sat there and looked at her, trying to figure out if he could confide in her. He wasn't supposed to let normal civilians know. It was a basic rule taught to every magician from the day they were old enough to understand what it meant to be one.

But Wilson wasn't a normal civilian, and this wasn't a normal situation. She knew how to time travel, and if his parents - the people they were going to meet, if that was still going to happen - were a magician and a demon. He couldn't pretend that things were normal when it was clear to both of them that they weren't.

So he took a deep breath and decided to tell the truth.

"I'm a magician," he admitted. "Northridge Academy of the Arts isn't just a normal private school. It's a school that raises and teaches magicians to summon demons. I've been there for as long as I can remember. I've been told my entire life that my parents died in a car crash, and that they were just normal people. But they're not. My mom must have been a magician, and my dad must have been a demon. I-I saw his true form when he opened the door. He's not...He's not human."

And I don't know what that makes me.