The Awakening
Jason's alarm blared at 6:30 AM, but as usual, he slapped the snooze button and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. The morning light filtered through his half-closed blinds, casting thin stripes across his cluttered bedroom. Posters of fantasy worlds and sci-fi movies covered the walls, a stark contrast to the pile of unwashed laundry in the corner.
"Jason! You're going to be late again!" His mother's voice carried up the stairs, tinged with that familiar mix of concern and exasperation. "It's already quarter to seven!"
Jason groaned, forcing his eyes open. The ceiling fan spun lazily above, creaking with each rotation. His eighteenth birthday had passed just days ago, but nothing felt different. Same room, same routine, same life.
"Jason Alexander Bennett! I'm not driving you if you miss the bus again!"
"I'm up, I'm up!" he called back, his voice cracking from disuse. His feet hit the cold floor, and he shuffled to the bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. His dark hair stood up in odd angles, and the remnants of a pimple on his chin reminded him why he preferred to keep to himself at school.
The shower was quick, the water never quite reaching the perfect temperature. Downstairs, his mother was already placing a plate of toast and eggs on the table. The kitchen smelled of coffee and that lavender air freshener she'd been obsessed with lately.
"Happy Monday," she said, her smile not quite reaching her tired eyes. She'd worked the late shift at the hospital again. "Did you finish that English paper?"
Jason nodded, mouth full of toast. "Turned it in online last night."
"And the calculus test today? Did you study?"
He nodded again, though he'd only skimmed his notes before falling asleep watching videos online. Math came easily enough to him that he could usually scrape by with minimal effort.
"Your lunch is by the door. Please try to be home by six tonight. I've got that parent-teacher thing at your sister's school."
Jason gulped down orange juice, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door. "See you later," he called out, not waiting for a response.
The morning air had that peculiar crispness that made everything seem slightly sharper, more defined. The school bus was already at the corner, its yellow bulk waiting impatiently as the last few stragglers climbed aboard.
The bus ride was a blur of noise and movement, bodies packed too close together and conversations he wasn't part of. Jason sat alone, as usual, staring out the window and watching the suburban landscape slide by.
Westlake High School loomed ahead, an unremarkable brick building that housed a thousand unremarkable stories. Jason's included.
"Hey, you alive in there?" A lanky figure dropped into the seat beside Jason, nudging him with a bony elbow. Mike Chen, his one and only friend since fifth grade, grinned at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Just tired," Jason replied, managing a weak smile. "Ready for the calc test?"
Mike groaned dramatically. "Don't remind me. I was up until two trying to understand derivatives. My brain is officially fried." He pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit he'd had for as long as Jason had known him.
They walked into school together, two lean shadows against the backdrop of social clusters that defined high school hierarchy. Mike talked excitedly about a new game he'd discovered over the weekend, while Jason nodded at appropriate intervals, his mind elsewhere.
The day passed in its usual monotonous rhythm. English, History, Lunch (spent in the library), Physics, and finally, the dreaded Calculus test. Jason stared at the problems, his pencil moving almost automatically across the page. The answers came to him with surprising clarity, as though the numbers were speaking to him.
When the final bell rang, Jason declined Mike's invitation to hang out at the local cafe.
"Rain check?" Jason asked, already backing toward the exit. "Got to help my mom with some stuff."
"Your loss," Mike shrugged. "Text me later?"
Jason nodded and headed out, choosing to walk home rather than take the crowded bus. The crisp autumn air filled his lungs as he cut through the park, fallen leaves crunching beneath his sneakers.
It was about halfway home, just as he was passing the old community center, that he first noticed it—a prickling sensation at the back of his neck, like being watched. Jason glanced behind him but saw only a woman pushing a stroller and an elderly man walking a small dog.
He picked up his pace slightly, turning onto Maple Street. The feeling persisted, growing stronger with each block. Another glance back revealed a figure in a black hoodie about fifty yards behind, face obscured, keeping pace.
Jason's heart began to race. He cut across the street, ducking between houses and emerging onto Cedar Lane. A quick look confirmed his fears—the figure had changed direction too, maintaining the same distance.
Panic rising in his chest, Jason broke into a jog, then a full run. He darted down an unfamiliar side street, hoping to lose his pursuer. The buildings here were older, packed more tightly together. He turned right, then left, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
A dead end loomed ahead—a narrow alley between two brick buildings ending in a tall chain-link fence. Jason skidded to a halt, spinning around just as the hooded figure appeared at the alley's entrance, silhouetted against the afternoon light.
"Stay back!" Jason called out, his voice cracking. "I don't have anything worth taking!"
The figure approached slowly, deliberately. Jason pressed his back against the fence, heart hammering in his chest. When the pursuer was about ten feet away, pale hands emerged from the black sleeves and pulled back the hood.
Jason blinked in surprise. It was a woman—perhaps in her thirties, with striking features and eyes that seemed to shift colors like oil on water. Her dark hair was pulled back severely from her face, revealing pointed ears that couldn't possibly be real.
"Where is the Codex?" she demanded, her voice carrying an accent Jason couldn't place.
"What?" he stammered. "I don't—I don't know what you're talking about."
The woman's eyes narrowed. She raised her right hand, fingers splayed toward the iron grill of a basement window behind Jason. "The Codex of Elders. You know where it is. Tell me now, or suffer the consequences."
Before Jason could respond, the iron began to groan and twist. To his horror, the metal bars transformed, writhing and reshaping into serpentine forms. The newly formed snakes hissed and lunged toward him, their iron bodies impossibly flexible.
Jason cried out, throwing his arms up in a futile attempt to protect himself—but the attack never came.
A blur of movement and suddenly another figure stood between him and the metal serpents. This one wore a forest-green cloak that rippled like living leaves. With a gesture, the newcomer froze the snakes in mid-strike, their metal bodies solidifying once more.
"Enough, Morvenna." The new arrival turned slightly, and Jason caught a glimpse of delicate features, golden eyes, and distinctly pointed ears. "The boy is clearly untrained."
The dark-haired woman—Morvenna—snarled. "He reeks of the Codex's magic. The artifact has chosen him as its guardian."
The green-cloaked figure turned fully to Jason now, revealing herself to be another woman—no, not a woman exactly. Though humanoid in form, her features were too perfect, too symmetrical, her eyes too large and expressive. An elf. An actual elf was standing before him.
"Where is the Codex, Jason Bennett?" the elf asked, her voice musical yet demanding.
"I don't—" Jason stammered, his mind racing. "How do you know my name? What's happening? What Codex?"
The two beings exchanged glances. The elf stepped forward, placing cool fingers against Jason's forehead. Images flashed through his mind—a leather-bound book, symbols glowing, a circle of hooded figures, a ritual broken, blood on stone.
"He truly doesn't know," the elf said, sounding surprised. "But the connection is there. Strong. Unmistakable."
"Then we take him," Morvenna declared, stepping forward. "The Council will extract what we need."
Jason tried to back away further, but the fence blocked his escape. "Take me? No! You can't just—"
But his protest was cut short as Morvenna's hand clamped over his mouth, her strength impossibly greater than her slight frame suggested. The elf produced a small crystal vial from her cloak and removed the stopper.
"I apologize for this rudeness, Jason Bennett," she said, her golden eyes showing what might have been genuine regret. "But the fate of multiple worlds hangs in the balance. Sleep now. All will be explained when you wake."
The last thing Jason saw was a glittering dust blown into his face, sparkling as it settled on his skin. Then darkness took him, and he knew no more.