The Elementalist

Chapter One

Part One

"John Nathaniel H. Oak, come here please," called his mother.

John obeyed without a second thought. It was his birthday after all, his 12th, to be exact, so what harm could there be? Besides, his mother had been hinting all week long that something special would be given to him on his birthday. He had been anticipating a new gaming system, or a new set of books. Something like that.

But what he would actually receive was something he had never expected.

John, or Nathan as he was sometimes called (although he hated that name), checked his reflection in the mirror before going to his mother.

He was slightly taller than those of his age, with a body that was strong, yet not brawny. He had sharp, chiseled features that were slightly handsome, with blue eyes that were always attentive, and, at the same time, always seemed to be far away. His black hair was uncombed today, giving it a wild, spiky look. Satisfied that nothing was out of place, he dashed of to his mother's room with more haste than usual.

John burst into his mother's room, barely able to contain his excitement. But what he saw disappointed him. There was nothing that hinted at a gift, or even something out of the ordinary. The only unusual thing was his Uncle Connor, whom he rarely saw, sitting in a chair. "Hello, John," greeted his uncle.

Something about his presence unnerved John, and so being a curious and proactive boy, naturally began to ask questions. "Um, hi," said John still surprised. "What are you doing here?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

His mother smiled gently. "Don't be so hostile, John. He's here on good terms. Actually, he's here to help me offer you a choice that not many kids get." His mother's face was suddenly serious and businesslike. Something about the way she said it unnerved John even more.

"And that is...?"

"Whether or not you choose to become a sorcerer."

John stared at his mother incredulously. A sorcerer? Is Mom going senile? thought John. Nevertheless, he maintained his respect, and instead asked more politely than his thoughts had been.

"I-I'm...sorry? A sorcerer?"

"Yes, dear. A sorcerer," said his uncle, the look on his face suggesting that he had gone through this before and wished for a slightly different response.

"And as hard as that may be to believe," interjected his mother, before John could speak, "it's perfectly true. And you should be proud. Not many boys your age get this kind of opportunity."

"Um, OK, but what exactly is there to make me believe you?" challenged John.

His mother's smile widened into a grin. "Well, if you insist...we'll bring you to Oak Manor."