Rafael & the magic DarKNight

Rafael halted when he noticed the stress in the female voice. A peek between a cluster of leaves confirmed that he was right: The owner of the voice was an angry Jennifer. From a kneeling position, she was looking up at a tall, menacing form. As she shifted on the uneven ground of the tiny clearing, he noticed her bag slid from her shoulder.

“Why’d you pounce on me like that?” she asked while pushing to her feet. She froze midway when the dark form moved and pointed a wicked-looking dagger at her throat.

“I saw what you did. Give it to me.”

Puzzled at the low, rusty voice, Rafael watched the aggressor. He realized it was a tall, dark-skinned girl. Her clothes were floating on her thin frame like the ill-fitting rejects one would put on a scarecrow.

Who was she? Was she living in Dreamland?

“Okay.” Jennifer dropped back to the ground and reached for her bag with slow, careful movements. “Okay, I’ll get it. One second.”

Crouched in the shadow, Rafael pondered his options. He was close enough to tackle the stranger. But first, the dagger had to go. Jennifer was gifted in Manifestation but wouldn’t be in any shape to concentrate. Fear had a way of blocking your abilities when you needed them most.

Besides, breaking down the dagger would require time, depending on its age and value to its owner. That two factors made an object more tangible and immovable from the fabric of the universe.

That’s why no one could move a mountain. Although his powers were strong, he didn’t know if he wanted to move this specific mountain. After all, his classmate could hand over the tablet, and it would be the end of it. He knew Jennifer had the authentic T.P.O.D. tablet in her bag. The one he and Kiano had wrestled over was a deterrent. He had sensed the object had just been manifested when he first touched it, which was why he let go of it. So, the stakes were high, but he didn’t think the T.P.O.D. tablet was worth getting hurt. If they knew who had it, they could retrieve it at a later, safer time.

As Jennifer plunged her hand into the bag, her eyes met Rafael’s and widened. He shook his head, and she answered with a tiny nod. The panic in her face left him no choice but to act, lest she did something stupid and got hurt. While she pretended to search her bag for the tablet, he concentrated on unmanifesting the dagger. His breath drew short and sweat broke through his skin. Something was amiss; his effort was too steep for such a small object.

He switched strategies and concentrated on dulling the blade instead. The dark girl started making angry noises and jerking the dagger. She took a threatening step toward Jennifer, and Rafael’s heart jumped. Time was running out.

At that instant, his throat closed, and his vision dimmed. His lungs couldn’t get enough air, and he felt his energy dwindling. It was now or never. He rocketed to his feet and lunged to the dark-skinned girl.

Alerted by the rustle of the foliage, she moved clear from his clumsy trajectory. He saw her lips moving, but all he heard was the violent thumping of his own heartbeats.

As he sailed past, the dark girl’s eyes narrowed, and she slashed the dagger in a horizontal arc. He felt the cold bite of iron against his throat, and his legs gave way. Jennifer let go of her backpack and lunged to grip his arm in an attempt to break his fall, but they both tumbled to the ground instead.

His head bounced on Dreamland’s mossy floor. He felt a tremor go through his body, too spent to continue fighting for an air that refused to pass through his closed windpipes.

Through foggy eyes, he saw Jennifer jerk, and she slumped next to him. A bony hand scooped up the tablet that had spilled from the bag during the brief skirmish, and brown legs disappeared from his vision. Then, darkness took over his mind.

The stranger had won.

He was dying.

Mum.

A few more seconds and she would be free. She knew time was running out, but the thrill was oh so heady.

She lifted a hand from his mouth and gazed in morbid fascination at the bluish shade of his lips. A sudden spasm dislodged her other hand from his nose. Her lips curled into a vicious smile while his unconscious body fought for life-giving air.

He was utterly at her mercy. Mercy. She wouldn’t grant it to this little smart-mouthed pain in her ass. He dies. His parents stop aggravating her. The voices leave her alone. A simple, logical equation.

She pressed her hands down again, enjoying every little nuance of the act.

Rafael’s awareness returned like a boomerang. One moment he was dreaming of being in the soft, loving embrace of his mum, then bam, the next moment he was falling back into his body.

It hurt.

The first thing he noticed was the pressure on his face. His lungs were burning. Survival instinct kicked in, and he tried to lift his arms. They were heavy. Weak. Useless. Panic struck hard, prompting his gritty eyes to open a crack. But he couldn’t discern more than vague shapes. What was happening?

In a herculean effort, he rallied his battered will and managed to turn his head a fraction. The weight on his mouth and nose shifted just enough to gift him a tiny inhalation. It wasn’t nearly enough to save him.

“Oh no, you little brat, you’re going to pay for all the trouble you caused.”

He knew the voice. It was a nasty voice, tinged with malicious glee. But who? The question fled his thoughts when the weight came back on his face, his head pinned in a vicious trap.

She ran faster than she ever ran in her life, the sense of urgency pushing her to high speed.

Danger! The ghostly man’s words echoed through her mind in tempo with the staccato taps of her feet. She skidded to a stop in front of Rafael’s room, nearly missing the handle, and opened the well-oiled door a crack. No need to disturb his sleep if everything was well, she told herself, hoping the man had been wrong.

She took a steadying breath and peered inside. Her stomach lurched sideways when she spied the back of a ragged shape hunched over her baby boy. In a flash, she recognized the ugly wool hat, and all reason deserted her.

Julia rode into the room on a storm of rage and slammed her foot into the back of the predator’s knee. The stranger who dared touch her child collapsed halfway but managed to grip a bedrail before hitting the floor. One glance at Rafael’s blue lips and ashy skin turned her rage into wrath.

Outrage and fury filled her mother’s warrior heart, and she let her fists fly. As the blows connected, a small part of her observed with a clinical detachment that the woman wasn’t a fighter. Her attempts to defend herself were weak at best. With a final shot to the temple, she finished the short, brutal punishment, and the woman collapsed to the floor. Panting, Julia stood over her dispatched enemy. She would do it again in a heartbeat, and probably worse, she thought without remorse.

Her child needed attention. She let go of the anger and rushed to his side. She rang for help and checked his breathing with trembling hands. A breath! Faint but there. The blue was fading, his face was regaining some color, and his eyes were moving behind his half-closed lids. She gathered him in her arms and rocked him, whispering him nonsensical sweet words between heaving sobs.

She was all too aware that this had been a close call.

Nurses rushed in, pushed her aside, and went to work on Rafael, all the while peppering her with questions. Julia managed to snake her arm between the working bodies and grab Rafael’s little hand. She kept talking to him, ignoring the nurses’ questions. The nurses had let the predator in – they had let her child down.

At some point, the unconscious woman had been hushed away on a stretcher. Julia had recoiled in horror when she recognized the face beneath the wool hat.

Her son’s teacher? What in the world?!

The second time he came back to his senses was only slightly better. He could breathe, but each inhalation was painful, and the chaos of sounds around him was confusing.

Then he heard the most beautifully, familiar voice.

“Mama?” he croaked.

“Rafael?” The voice answered, moving nearer. “Oh Rafael, my heart, mon chéri!”

In an instant, he was wrapped in her loving arms, breathing the unique scent of love. He was home! His limbs heavy from exhaustion, he struggled to hug his mum back – Mum!

Everything hurt, even his brain cells. But he was home. He closed his eyes in delight and let the love flood his soul.

It wasn’t his time to die, after all.

Julia cried in her son’s hair.

A miracle.

He stirred, and she lowered him back to his pillow, remembering that he didn’t like prolonged hugs. “You’re safe now. Everything is going to be okay. It’s time to go home, and we’ll sort it out. Don’t worry. It’s over now. I promise.”

She realized she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. She petted Rafael’s hair, caressed his hand, reluctant to break contact. The need to reassure herself that he was here, alive, and lucid was overwhelming. After a few moments, his eyes closed in exhaustion, and she made sure he fell asleep to the sound of her voice.

A minute later, Kris rushed through the door, perspiration on his face, despite the cold weather. He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and put a hesitant hand on Rafael’s brow. “How is he?”

Her smile lit up the dim room. “Our baby made it through, Kris. He was such a brave little soldier.”

He sat on the adjacent chair and took her hand, squeezing once in wordless relief. “Now, tell me what happened. You were barely coherent when you called.”

They monitored their son’s peaceful slumber as she explained how she’d found Mrs. Zadi suffocating him.

Nobody could explain the purple slash on his throat, however.

She didn’t tell him about the ghost in the counter reflection. How could she explain something like that to her rational husband? Instead, she chalked up the intervention to maternal instinct.

“I guess I’ll have to make a statement to the police.”

He wrapped her in a sideways hug. “We knew that she was mean, but this is beyond unstable. How much did Rafael suffer at school?”

The thought of it filled her with dread. “How could we overlook that? Too bad I didn’t go supernova on her earlier,” she admitted, bowing her head in shame.

They had let their baby down. Never again.

The cat was purring in delight at Lennart’s absent-minded petting. He had been watching a Star Wars rerun with his dad when his mum had called from the hospital.

He had opted to stay home when he noticed the alarm on his father’s face. He didn’t know how to cope with situations that involved messy emotions. They made him feel as though his skin didn’t fit.

He felt sick to his stomach and angry every time he thought of his little brother lying in the big hospital bed. His hands curled into fists, and the cat sprang down from his lap, its tail high in irritation.

Since the attack, he devoted a great deal of time to watching the twits who hurt his brother, waiting for an opportunity to return the hurt. But Danny, Momo, and Leon weren’t taking the ten-minute walk to or from school anymore. Their mummies were chauffeuring them.

He snorted. Who were the cowards now?

It did nothing to erase the ugly guilt he felt, though. He flopped on his back and frowned at the spots on the ceiling. If he had bashed the wannabe thugs right at the beginning, they would have left Rafael alone. His mum had held him back, saying it wouldn’t solve anything. But in his heart, he knew he had failed to perform his brotherly duty.

A soft chime signaled a new message on his mobile phone. He got up to retrieve the device, which was somewhere... ah, there. How it came to rest between yesterday’s socks and his work-gears catalog, he didn’t know. And didn’t care.

# Crazy new game!!! Hot!!! Click here to check it out!!!

Nelsen, a classmate, was sending him stuff like that nonstop.

Lennart sighed, recalling the uphill battle with his parents regarding digital games. He understood they didn’t want him to become a digital junky, and they realized he loved gaming and didn’t want to feel left out when his friends spoke about their prowess. So, they compromised. Ego-driven, violent shooting games were taboo, everything else was okay, as long as his school grades were good.

He sprang up and paced his room. He wished he would have gone with his dad, after all. Returning to his bed, he plumped down and rechecked his messages.

Seeing no harm in checking out the new game, he opened a new browser window and keyed in: DarKNight.

Madlen stormed into Manifestation Hall, her gray dress swirling around her legs. She stopped in her track when she saw Niklas’s dejection.

He was lying on the bare floor in rumpled clothes, staring at luminescent globes as they rotated in slow patterns over his head. Remarkable manifestation, for somebody who had been searching Dreamland nonstop for two days in a row.

Her anger evaporated, and she lowered herself next to her colleague to join the contemplation. Now all she felt was sorrow.

He was first to break the silence. “All for naught, Madlen.”

She sighed. Guardians, teachers, and trainees had been combing the Dreamland without finding even a clue pointing to Rafael’s whereabouts. They were all exhausted, and the general mood in Centisom was dark, to say the least.

According to Jennifer, who had been in Madlen’s care to treat a blow to the head she suffered that fateful night, Rafael had been abducted by a young person fitting the description of Rahima.

Madlen was secretly pleased Rahima, the bright teenager gifted in Manifestation and Nurture, had presumably survived, but she couldn’t make sense of her behavior. Why Rahima would take Rafael instead of coming to the teachers for help? Maybe her prolonged stay in Dreamland had destabilized her. That, and the fact that she was dead.

“We’ll find them. We have to,” she consoled Niklas.

“She’s a Ghost in Dreamland now. It won’t be easy.”

“I thought Medeor went back to Earth and confirmed she was there and not in Dreamland anymore?” she said, trying to make sense of that mess.

“He did. We assumed Dreamland had ejected her. But he discovered she had been killed in a terrorist attack on the hospital where she was staying.” He sighed. “It devastated him, that’s why he didn’t talk about it.”

“Ah, I see. That’s horrible,” Madlen said, understanding at last why she hadn’t known about Rahima’s death until Medeor told them two days ago.

Dreamland ejected astral bodies without a Glab or a Transcry after a while. It was a safeguard for those rare souls who were able to astral-walk and might have difficulties finding their way home.

“That a soul relocates to its astral body after physical death is a very rare instance,” she continued. “We couldn’t have anticipated...” her voice trailed off when she realized that Ghosts also became the most virtuous and talented Guardians because Dreamland was home to them. “But why is she hiding from us? And what could she possibly want from Rafael?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Madlen,” Niklas said with a shrug.

“Unless he isn’t here anymore,” she said. She had been pushing them to see how Rafael was faring on Earth since the day they lost him, but Medeor refused. He was adamant about finding Rahima first and had devoted every resource to that end.

After Niklas’s explanation, she understood why Medeor dreaded the thought of losing yet another one of his protégés.

In theory, Dreamland should eject Rafael at some point. However, she wasn’t sure how his other gift would behave under those circumstances. The uncertainty was nagging at her... as did Niklas’s secrets.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Niklas?” she demanded. “You knew about his other gift.” Her voice trembled in anger and disappointment.

He heaved a deep sigh. “Because I knew he needed someone on his side, my dear friend, and you fit the bill from day one. You had his trust.”

That stung, though it made sense. “But if I had I known–”

“It wouldn’t have changed a single thing,” he interrupted her, “and left him without a precious ally on staff.” He glanced in her direction and frowned. “So, what happened to your colors?”

She looked down at her gray dress. “I guess they bled together with my heart. Rafael is special to me. His journey won’t be easy. He already struggles with his differences. I can’t imagine what he will have to deal with when this gets out. I wish he were back on Earth safe and sound, and this nightmare were over.”

They gazed up in silence at the rotating globes.

“So, how did you find out about his gift?” he said after a while.

“Well, it bugged me that he couldn’t activate the Transcry. That never happens. Never. From there, it was only a small leap to suspicion, followed by a lot of research time.” She couldn’t help sounding proud of herself.

“I didn’t know his gift was strong enough to cancel the need for a Transcry,” Niklas observed. “I guess the truth always finds a way to shine through.”

After allowing the silence to lead for a few moments, she decided to dig a little deeper. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Bad things happen when teachers hide things from each other. I could have handled Rafael’s situation differently, eased his doubts about himself. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do. Of course, I do,” he said. He hesitated, then gently placed his hand over hers. “It was an executive decision. Medeor wanted Rafael to be happy. No one can explain his gift to him, let alone teach him how to harness it. Medeor decided it would be best for him to concentrate on his other gift.”

She sighed in defeat. “Medeor’s reasoning makes sense. He cares for his trainees. But look where it led us. We should always work together for the good of our trainees. I know how brave Rafael is, and given the current state of the planes, we could have found a way to make it work. Or, at least, try.”

He nodded. “There is still hope,” he said, for her sake.

She turned her hand and touched his palm with hers in silent forgiveness. “It’s just sad. He’s the first one in eons, and we might have already lost him.”

That was the real tragedy.

Julia set down the phone, resisting the urge to throw it across the room and be done with, well, everything. She glanced at her beloved Rafael, snugly curled on the couch next to his dad, and happily chatting with his brother. Their lively exchange was music to her ears.

“I’d prefer to be a Jedi. They can enter the mind of their enemies and make them do what they want,” Lennart said.

“But the Force is so limited. A wizard can do anything with his wand.”

“That’s the point, Rafael. It’s lame to need a stick to do magic. A Jedi only has to break the wand, and voilà, the wizard is powerless.”

“Not when he’s invisible,” Rafael pointed out. “But if a wizard didn’t need a wand, then...”

Lennart’s eyes lit up. “A Jedi-Wizard hybrid! Cool idea.”

They giggled.

The rasp in Rafael’s voice was clearing up, and the slash on his throat was fading to a thin pink line. It was a harsh reminder of how close they had been to losing him. When they asked him about the scar, he demurred, so they decided to leave well enough alone. There were new shadows in his eyes, a loss of innocence she mourned in silence. She hoped, in time, he would confide in her.

She caught her husband’s eyes and tilted her head. A few moments later, he joined her in the kitchen. He studied her pale face, apprehension in his eyes. “What now?”

“She’s gone.”

“Who? What?!”

“The madwoman. They had her in the psychiatric ward for an evaluation – she kept repeating that some voices had ordered her to kill Rafael. Somehow, she managed to escape.”

He grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. “Julia...”

“I know.” She took a deep breath and steeled her voice. “From now on, 24/7 surveillance.”

“Of course,” he said, already hurrying back to their sons.

She managed to reach the bathroom before she lost the contents of her stomach. She washed her face and let her forehead rest against the cold surface of the mirror. Mrs. Zadi had heard voices. Just like she had. What, in the crazy world, was going on?

Her son was once again in danger.

Rafael stood at the window, keeping an eye on Danny and Leon. They were wheeling their bikes in circles and throwing nasty looks at his house. Their threatening presence was the reason he hadn’t dared play outside in past years. He smiled in victory when the familiar pang of fear didn’t come.

He swung his gaze to his mum, who was on the other side of the street, engaged in a conversation with a neighbor. Hanie, Mrs. Hillbrown’s sister-in-law, was the sort of woman who oozed open honesty and had a bright laugh that enhanced her motherly charisma. She and her husband were cops. Rafael watched Hanie slip a small paper into his mum’s hand. They shared a brief hug, and his mum started her way back.

When she stiffened, Rafael cast a quick look in the direction of the two wannabe thugs. Yep, one had lifted the middle finger, and the other one was sticking his tongue out. It was a common occurrence these days, but the rudeness still made him mad on behalf of his mother. She, however, insisted on ignoring them, claiming they couldn’t help what they were.

A dark red car crept on the street and stopped right beside his mum. Mrs. Donsch, the principal of his school, exited in a rush and hailed her. He could tell by his mum’s clenched fists that the woman was in for a fight, but the principal seemed oblivious to the tension and launched into a speech.

Knowing he was in for a treat, Rafael cracked the window open and leaned into the chilled air to better hear her babbling. His mother had ignored the offered hand and had yet to say a word.

“...he needs to resume school, get back to normality. His classmates miss him and are eager to welcome him back. I suggest...”

His mum cocked her head to study the woman, and Rafael could tell at her stony mask she was a breath away from making the woman eat her words. She let her talk into empty air for a few minutes, then lifted a hand to halt the verbal stream of slime.

“Mrs. Donsch,” she started in a cold, controlled voice, “you’re presuming a lot for somebody who wouldn’t offer any help whatsoever to our son. If I remember well, you proclaimed he was perfectly happy, and even endorsed Mrs. Zadi’s handling of him.”

A familiar hand clamped on his shoulder, and he looked up at his dad’s troubled face.

“You’ll catch a cold if you keep that window open, little champ. What’s so interesting, anyway?”

His dad peered over Rafael’s head and tensed. He squeezed his shoulder again and closed the window. “Please go to your room.” He cast another glance at the scene below. “I think I’ll join the fun.” Looking Rafael in the eyes, he added, “You’ll never have to see this woman again. Now go.”

Rafael would have rather stayed and witnessed how his parents took the moronic woman apart, but the knowledge alone that they were doing it was enough to partially soothe his heart. He nodded and found himself engulfed in his dad’s bear hug. Tears swelled behind his lids.

He let go and went to search for his brother.

Lennart spent plenty of time in his room. It was, as Mum always said, a “teenager thing.” After a brief knock followed by a grunted answer, Rafael stepped in.

Lennart was Rafael’s biggest hero and worst enemy rolled in one package. At fifteen years of age, he could give a linebacker a run for his money, had gorgeous wavy hair, and possessed an unparalleled degree of coolness. His soulful eyes were a dark chocolate shade and slightly tilted up at the edge, and an angel had kissed his chin, leaving a small indent behind. Because he had a soft heart to top his good looks, girls were all over him. How disgusting.

Lennart was sprawled across his bed, absorbed in the latest video game. Come to think of it, Rafael hadn’t seen much of him since returning home. He felt a little hurt, but curiosity won.

“New game?”

Grunt.

He knew how to push his brother’s buttons. “Do Mum and Dad know about it?”

In a blur of activity and agility that belied his big frame, Lennart rolled over, closed the game, and slid the tablet underneath his pillow. Impressive.

Rafael laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m no tattle-tale.” He sat down at his brother’s side and gave a light shoulder bump. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Lennart said readily. “What for?”

“Well, it must have been hard for you to deal with your life without my input,” Rafael quipped.

Lennart sank his elbow into his little brother’s ribs.

“Ouch!” Rafael said, drawing a steadying breath. “I didn’t want to upset you, Mum, and Dad, that’s all.”

Lennart snorted. “You didn’t knock your head yourself, you idiot.” He put a hand on his forehead and let himself fall back on the bed. “But it was torture, me always by my lonesome, eating junk food and gaming. You should make it up to me.”

“In your dreams!”

Sobering, Lennart punched his own hand. “But I’m still mad at myself. If I had taught dumb, dumber, and dumbest a lesson, they would have left you in peace.”

That was as close to an apology that Rafael would ever receive from Lennart. But superfluous. “No, I don’t think so. They’re rude idiots, but it was all Mrs. Zadi’s fault. Don’t sweat it. I’m fine now.”

“But they put you in a coma, dude!” Lennart’s deep voice was rough.

Rafael would have agreed before, but now he wasn’t so sure. “Is that what you think?” He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t think they were involved in what happened to me.”

“Who, then? Maybe you ought to let somebody recheck your head because you aren’t making sense.”

“Maybe,” he sighed. “But given Mrs. Zadi’s attempt to kill me, I think there’s more to it than schoolyard bullies.” A chill made his hairs stand up, and he rubbed his arms to dispel it. “But hey, I’m back, and it’s in the past now, right? And the best news ever? I’m not going back to that school. Bye, dumb gang!”

They laughed and sat in brotherly understanding until Rafael noticed Lennart getting antsy. “So, tell me about your new game.”

“Nelsen sent me a preview of it the other day. Mum allowed me the download today, so I’m just starting. It’s called DarKNight, and it’s the hottest game of the year. Already over one million downloads.” He spoke with the giddy enthusiasm of a kid with a new toy.

Rafael stood up. “Then I’ll leave you to it. Hey, I won’t tell them you’ve got your tablet in your room if you let me try the game later. Deal?”

Grunt. Rafael was dismissed.

Heading to his room, Rafael wondered why the idea of Leon, Momo, and Danny didn’t scare him as much anymore.

But who else might want to harm him?