Samuel Anderson stood In the middle of fifth Street, Smoke curling through the dawn-Light like Fingers reaching for something already Lost. Springfield Stretched around him In every Direction, but it was not the Springfield he knew. The Capitol Dome had
Caved inward. Cars Lay overturned and
Charred along the Curbs. And the Bodies-God, the bodies were stacked in the Intersection like firewood, Limbs Tangled
Faces frozen In expressions he could never Quite Forget upon Waking. Then the Voice came. Low. Ancient. Patient. Find me.
The Voice did not shout. It never shouted.
It simply pressed against the inside of his Skull Like a Thumb Testing the Ripeness of Fruit, Samuel would feel his legs begin to
Move of their own accord toward the Pile of Corpses, toward something buried Beneath them, something Bound In Leather and Humming with a Frequency that made his
Teeth ache. Find me, Samuel. He woke gasping, his sheets were damped. His heart was slamming against his Ribs. Morning light
Sliced through the blinds of his small bedroom. Somewhere downstairs, his mother Karen Anderson was making coffee
He could smell it. Bitter and ordinary, perfect.
Samuel pressed both palms against his eyes
And Breathed until his Pulse slowed. For three months. Samuel had been having
The same nightmare for three months.
And he is determined to find out why, he swung his long legs over the side of the bed.
Samuel caught his reflection in the mirror on
The closet door. His Light Blue eyes Portrayed his nervousness and excitement
For the day ahead. His Light Brown hair had
Grown out over the summer. It now reached the middle of his back, Samuel stood up.
To a outside observer, Samuel does not look
Like someone, who should be having Visions
Of the apocalypse. The letter was still on his
Desk where he had left it the night before,
The Cream-Colored envelope was already
Wrinkled at the corners from how many times
He had unfolded and Refolded the page inside. The seal-a Tower wrapped in silver flame does still shimmer faintly when the Light catches It. Springfield Magic Academy
Cordially extends its invitation. Samuel
Had read It Forty times. He could recite It
From Memory. And today was the day.
Downstairs, Karen stood at the Kitchen counter stirring her coffee with the slow, deliberate motion of someone trying not to
Cry. Upstairs, Samuel had changed into a
Simple white T-shirt and Light Blue Jeans.
He had walked over to his desk to pick up
The Letter. Downstairs, Karen had fixed
Samuel a plate. It was something simple.
Something fast. Two slices of toast. Karen
Turned around to continue stirring her coffee on the Kitchen counter, even though her coffee had been stirred enough. Samuel
Had walked into the Kitchen, the envelope held tightly in one hand while his other hand
Held the strap of his reddish bag, he set his
Bag in his Lap as he sat down at the kitchen Table. Karen was not born a magic user,
Neither was Samuel's Father, wherever he was these days. The Letter's arrival three weeks ago had opened a door neither of them understood. Samuel had Watched his
Mother cycle through wonder, Confusion, suspicion, and finally a Cautious, Fragile hope. Karen had not turned around to face
Samuel. She feared that if she did...she'd cry,
As It stood now, few tears had leaked out of
Her Light Blue eyes. After a moment, she spoke. "Before you leave, eat something"
"I will, Mama" Samuel replied, she wasn't finished though, "I do not care if they have a
Feast waiting. I would like for you to
Eat here first" Samuel Slightly chuckled before replying, "I will, Ma'am" a sad, gentle
Smile Played Upon her Pink Lips. Samuel had ate the two pieces of Toast before rising from the chair. "Call me every Sunday. Every single Sunday" Karen said, her voice soft.
"I will, Mama" Samuel replied, at that moment. Karen turned around. Her Light Blue eyes were Red-Rimmed. "If anyone gives you trouble. You tell someone Immediately, you hear me?" Samuel Nodded
As he walked toward his mom, who stood beside the Kitchen counter. He gently pulled her in for a hug because words felt insufficient. She held on a beat Longer than usual before releasing him, "I love you"
Karen gently laid her right hand on his right cheek. "I love you to, Mama" as Samuel
Walked toward The corner of Ash and Monroe, he had been looking through his
Reddish bag to make sure that he had everything, "okay...I have clothes, Notebooks
A flashlight-" Samuel cut himself off as he looked into the inner pocket. Folded neatly
Had been the photograph of his mother standing In front of their house on Ash Street.
The Bus had arrived at Eight Fifteen. From
The outside, the Bus had looked completely
Ordinary. A standard yellow school Bus. Samuel held up his letter, the driver, a Heavyset woman with Warm brown eyes
And an Unsettling number of Rings on her
Fingers scanned through the letter before a
Gentle smile Played Upon her plump Lips.
"Welcome Aboard, Anderson! Find a seat!"
The woman's Voice was soft, warm. The
Bus was Half-Full. Some older. Some his age. They were all wearing the same expression he imagined was on his own Face
Excitement mixed with Nervousness. Samuel slid into an empty seat near the middle. He set his bag on his lap, he unzipped his reddish bag to put the letter
Somewhere inside. Samuel zipped his Reddish bag back up. Samuel could feel a
Pair of eyes on him, he looked across the aisle. Her Medium Length dark hair was pulled back In a Loose braid. Her Light Brown eyes seemed to carry a Joke that she had not yet decided to share. Hanging down from her
Neck had been a sliver Cross. She wore two Diamond-shaped earrings on both of her ears. Her nose was small and narrow.
Her Simple white T-shirt Seemed to cling to
Her Slender Figure. She stood about Five-Foot-six. Two inches below Samuel.
She was Dark-skinned. She was around
Fourteen years old. A gentle smile Played Upon her Pink Lips, "First year?" Samuel
Nodded. "Me to!" The girl replied, her tone Portraying her excitement. She extended her hand across the aisle. "Elena Vasquez"
"Samuel Anderson" he replied. Her handshake was firm and Brief. "You look as though you slept about as well as I did"
"That Obvious?" Samuel asked, "a little bit"
She titled her head. "Bad dreams?" The
Question Landed strangely, like a stone
Dropped into still water. He opened his mouth, closed it. He then managed a shrug.
"Something like that" his tone was distant,
Like his mind had wondered else where.
Elena studied him for a moment longer than
Felt causal. The bus lurched forward.
"Yeah," she said Quietly, almost to herself.
"Something like that" Springfield rolled past
The Bus's Windows. Familiar streets. Familiar storefronts, the ordinary world he
Had known for Fourteen years. Beneath It all
Beneath the rattle of the Bus and the Murmur of nervous and excited students. Samuel felt it again. Faint. Patient. Waiting. Find me.
Samuel closed his eyes and said nothing.