Magic Spawn Origins

Magic Spawn: Chapter 1

by Meredith Skye

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Golden yellow leaves streamed by, floating down carelessly in front of Kyran, a ten year old boy, as he sat staring out of the bus on an October afternoon.

Laughter rang out occasionally above the buzz of conversation from the busload of school children on their way home. Kyran (who sometimes went by 'Kye' for short) did his best to ignore everyone. He was short for his age, weaker than all the other boys. His albino-white hair refused to hold the brown hair color that his Mom tried to put in, fading quickly to a dirty, tan color. He had short elf-like ears. His eyes were grey, the same color that his Dad's had been.

Most of the leaves had fallen and soon they expected the first snowfall--perhaps tonight, on Halloween night.

Another flurry of laughter came from the three boys in the seat behind Kye--Roger, Todd, and Scott. Roger was the ringleader. All these boys were athletic and taller than Kye.

"Hey Kyran, going as yourself for Halloween?" sneered Roger.

"Ooh, that would be spooky," said Scott, a freckled-face boy with red hair.

"Or maybe he's going as Harry Potter. He's got a scar on his hand," said Todd, a handsome blonde. The others laughed.

"An evil Harry Potter," added Scott. All of them were a year older than him, and on the wrestling team.

Unconsciously, Kye, moved his left hand out of sight. He had a strange scar from when he was a baby. His Mom said that he fell into a fire. It looked like a letter H with a skewed middle bar. Or maybe a capital letter N, if the middle bar didn't go all the way to the top and bottom. Once Kyran had looked it up on Google. It looked like the rune for destruction. His Mom said that was ridiculous.

Kye refused to look at them. Any acknowledgement of their presence only made things worse. Why was he such a freak? He rubbed the rune on his left hand, wishing he could get rid of it.

Kyran had never felt like one of the other kids in his class. He had never fit in. Always he was the loner. He usually avoided people. Social situations were confusing and demanding. Always he felt at a disadvantage.

Emotions were difficult to manage; he didn't know how to treat them. Secretly, he wished he were a Vulcan like Mr. Spock on Star Trek, a person he greatly admired. People valued Spock for his intelligence and abilities. They didn't harass him for not acting right in every social circumstance. And Spock almost never had to deal with emotions.

In fact, when Kye got very angry, he liked to envision a world devoid of people where he was the only one left alive. Maybe the others just vanished or maybe they died in a terrible cataclysmic event. There, he would spend his time alone, undisturbed by the taunting of his classmates.

The bus rolled to a stop and, hoping to avoid trouble, Kyran grabbed his backpack and got off a stop early. But the ploy didn't work. The other three got off right after him.

Ignoring them, Kyran hurried down the sidewalk towards home, but they easily caught up with him.

"In a hurry?" asked Todd, cutting in front of Kyran, so that he had to stop.

"This isn't your stop," said Roger.

"It's not yours, either," said Kyran.

"Hey, I heard that Corey wasn't even your real father. I heard you were adopted," said Roger. He shoved Kyran down and his forehead hit the sidewalk, drawing a little blood. Now, it was impossible to ignore them. Kyran glared up at him.