Becoming the Sorcerer

Step 2: The Voice

Aldin woke up feeling strangely invigorated, a rare morning without the shadow of nightmares. Covered in the remnants of last night’s terror, he still felt an unusual zest for life. He sprang up, started his coffee, and hopped into the shower, humming tunes that echoed off the walls. The joy he felt was so intense it seemed to erase the memory of the previous day’s horrors.
With a day off ahead of him, Aldin was buzzing with energy. He dressed and paced around his apartment, too restless to sit still as the coffee brewed. He considered his options: a longboard ride, hanging out with a friend, or burning off this surplus energy at the gym.
Go for a ride, a voice suddenly suggested out of nowhere.
Startled, Aldin spun around. “Who’s there?” he called out, but no one answered. His apartment was silent, the kind of silence that makes your skin crawl. He checked every room, but found nothing, which only heightened his sense of paranoia.
The coffee pot beeped, and Aldin jumped, hitting his head against the wall. Rubbing the sore spot, he poured himself a cup and sat down, trying to shake off the feeling that he wasn’t alone. He even checked his phone for concussion symptoms, but hearing voices wasn’t typically one of them.
Deciding that some fresh air might help, Aldin finished his coffee, got dressed, and stepped outside. The rain had cleared, leaving only puddles as evidence of the previous night’s storm.
He ran into his neighbor Layla on his way out.
“Hey Aldin, nice running into you,” she said with a light laugh.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Aldin replied, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline still coursing through him.
“Don’t run into anyone with your longboard, okay?” she said with a smile, closing her door behind her.
Aldin paused for a moment, thinking about Layla. He used to have a crush on her, but he knew nothing would ever happen between them. Shaking off the thought, he jumped on his longboard and took off down the street.
Aldin cherished the exhilarating sense of liberation that came with longboarding, the way the board seemed to slice through the air, granting him wings upon the asphalt. He was navigating the urban canvas of Boren Avenue, his body swaying rhythmically, carving arcs of freedom when the unexpected occurred—a man, like a phantom, materialized onto the street.
“Watch out!” The warning tore from Aldin’s throat, a desperate plea lost in the rush of the moment. Their collision was a symphony of chaos, a clash of worlds. As Aldin locked eyes with the stranger, reality itself seemed to unravel. The bustling noise of the cityscape receded into a hushed lull, replaced by a spectral silence that enveloped them in a cocoon of mist.
In the stranger’s eyes, there flickered a haunting luminescence, an eerie glow that spoke of realms unseen. And there, in the periphery of his vision, Aldin glimpsed the ethereal form of a wolf, its presence as fleeting as a desert mirage, its outline shimmering with otherworldly energy. It was a vision that defied explanation, dissolving as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving a trail of bewilderment in its wake.
“What the hell, kid?” The man’s voice broke through the fog of Aldin’s shock, a tether pulling him back to the tangible world. But Aldin was already retreating, propelled by the unsettling encounter, his mind a whirlwind of questions and the haunting afterimage of a spectral guardian that may or may not have been.
He didn’t stop riding until he reached Westlake station, where he hurried down to the platform. The train’s arrival was announced, and he quickly boarded, eager to put as much distance as possible between himself and the unsettling events he’d experienced. He planned to head to a different part of Capitol Hill and then make his way home from there.
He found a double seat and placed his longboard beside him, preferring solitude. He felt his fear radiating off him like heat and hoped no one would notice how shaken he was.
As the train began its route, most passengers were getting off. At the greyhound station stop, a few new passengers got on, including a man with a mountain bike and another wearing a leather jacket and carrying a guitar case.
Aldin kept his eyes down, lost in thought. The strange light, the faceless woman, and now the werewolf-like figure he’d seen—were these figments of his imagination becoming real? He almost wished he was in a coma, just to have an explanation for these bizarre visions.
At the next stop, a group of teens and the guitar guy got off, and more people got on. One man stood out to Aldin; he was wearing an expensive-looking suit and sunglasses. As the train started moving again, Aldin saw an eerie face superimposed over the man’s—a face that reminded him of a vampire from a movie he’d seen years ago, but not the typical vampire. These were more like eyeless, furless dogs with rows of sharp teeth.
Aldin’s pulse hammered in his ears, a frantic drumbeat as the man’s gaze swept over the railcar with a predatory hunger. The eye contact was brief but intense, a silent challenge that sent a shiver down Aldin’s spine. He averted his gaze, hoping to become invisible, but the man’s presence was palpable, a dark energy that filled the space.
When Aldin dared another glance, the man had vanished, as if swallowed by the shadows. A cold dread settled over him as a sniffing sound echoed from behind, followed by a deep, savoring murmur that made his skin crawl. The warm breath against his neck was the final alarm, igniting every instinct to flee.
The train’s abrupt stop was his cue. Aldin bolted, his feet barely touching the ground as he raced out of the doors. A backward glance revealed the man again, his eyes now glowing red, a grin stretching impossibly wide as he waved—a macabre farewell.
Aldin’s mind raced with explanations, trying to dismiss the man as anything but a creature of the night. But logic faltered when he saw the sunlight had no effect on the stranger, contradicting every myth he knew about vampires.
The voice in his head grew louder, a constant whisper claiming to guide him on an unknown path. It was too much. The world around him morphed into a nightmarish parade, ordinary faces morphing into spectral visages of vampires, werewolves and other mythical creatures, each glance a haunting accusation. His heart pounded as he pushed his longboard to its limits, desperate to escape the phantoms that seemed to close in on him.
Pain exploded in his head, a crescendo of agony that blurred his vision and sent the world spinning. Home was just within reach when another collision sent him sprawling, the impact with the stranger a jarring anchor back to reality. As he lay there, the cacophony of the city dimmed, and for a moment, Aldin wondered if he had crossed into a realm where the ordinary became extraordinary, and fear mingled with fascination.
Aldin’s apologies came out in a rush, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said, still trying to catch his breath.
The girl, brushing off the dirt from her clothes, looked up at him with striking green eyes that seemed to sparkle with hidden knowledge. “It’s alright, but you seem a bit off-color, like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” she remarked, her tone a curious mix of concern and intrigue.
He gave a short nod, his pulse still racing. “Yeah, something like that. It’s been a strange day,” Aldin managed to say.
She straightened up, her black hair falling smoothly behind her as she held his gaze. “Life’s full of weird stuff, isn’t it? Especially on days like yours, when the world seems to turn upside down,” she commented, her words tinged with a hint of mystery.
Aldin felt a shiver run down his spine. “What do you mean?” he asked, his hand tightening around his longboard.
Her smile was knowing, almost secretive. “Being scared is normal. Not every day you find yourself peeking into the corners where the usual rules don’t apply,” she said, her voice low and compelling.
“I should really get going,” Aldin said quickly, stepping back. “Sorry again. I just need to get home.”
She leaned in as if to share a secret. “There’s more you need to know—” she started, but Aldin was already moving away, the music from his headphones filling his ears, blocking out her voice. He didn’t look back, the need to leave the day’s weirdness behind him pushing him forward.
As he approached his apartment, the flashing lights of police cars and the sound of sirens filled the air. Miss Esperanza, his neighbor, stood outside, her face etched with worry.
“Miss E, what’s happened? Is everyone okay?” Aldin asked, his concern growing.
“It’s awful, Aldin. Layla… she was attacked,” Miss Esperanza’s voice shook.
Aldin felt a jolt of shock. “Attacked? But I just saw her…”
“She confronted a man who was banging on your door. I couldn’t hear everything, but it got heated, and I called the cops. When I checked again, he was gone, and Layla was…” She trailed off, her eyes distant, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks.
Aldin’s mind raced. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Miss E.”
“See what, dear?” she asked, her tone suddenly vacant.
“The attack on Layla,” Aldin replied, his confusion deepening.
“Oh, the gas leak? Yes, quite serious,” she said, her demeanor now strangely calm.
“But you said—”
“A gas leak, Aldin. Dangerous business,” she repeated, her earlier account seemingly forgotten.
As Aldin reached the entrance, an officer stopped him. “I’m sorry, but no one can enter. It’s an active investigation.”
“I just need a few things from my place,” Aldin pleaded.
The officer was firm. “No entry, sir. You’ll have to find somewhere else to stay tonight.”
“But if it’s just a gas leak…”
“There’s no ‘just’ about it, sir. A gas leak is a serious hazard. The building is being evacuated.”
Aldin backed away, the world around him seeming to shift and warp. Moments ago, a violent crime had been committed, and now, a gas leak. He mounted his longboard, the need to escape the madness overwhelming him. He headed for the West Inn, the events of the night swirling in his mind like a dark fog. Something sinister was at play, and he wanted no part of it.

He arrived at the hotel, dragging himself to his room, heavy with the eerie events that had unfolded. The ghostly figure in the tunnels, the unsettling faces that seemed to lurk around every turn, and the vague whispers in his mind had left him spent. The strange man who seemed like a vampire and the attack on Layla because of him were too much.
Aldin stood on the precipice of the unknown, his mind a whirlwind of questions. The journey that beckoned to him was shrouded in mystery, its ties to the day’s supernatural events an enigma that clung to him like a shadow. Why was he, of all people, thrust into this maelstrom of otherworldly happenings? The cryptic words of the girl with the green eyes lingered in his thoughts, a puzzle that refused to be solved. He fought to dismiss the madness, to quiet the insistent voices that clawed at the edges of his sanity. Yet, the line between reality and illusion was blurring, each moment making it harder to discern the truth.
Fresh from the shower, Aldin stepped out onto his balcony, the cool night air a stark contrast to the steam that still clung to his skin. Below, the city sprawled out like a living organism, its veins pulsing with the glow of streetlights that bled into the encroaching darkness. Above, the moon hung low, bathing the skyscrapers in a ghostly luminescence that transformed the familiar skyline into a scene from a gothic novel.
As he turned to retreat to the safety of his hotel room, Aldin’s hand met the cold resistance of the sliding door, which refused to budge, as though gripped by spectral fingers. A surge of anger welled up within him, a fiery response to the day’s relentless trials. It swelled to a crescendo, a force he could no longer contain.
He spun around, facing the night sky, and unleashed a primal scream, a cathartic release of every shred of frustration and fear that had accumulated within him. The sound ripped through the silence, and with it, an invisible energy erupted forth. It surged across the street, an unseen maelstrom that shattered glass and sent tremors through the city’s bones.
Aldin stood there, breathless, the echoes of his outcry reverberating in the air, a testament to the power he had unwittingly unleashed—a power that left him both terrified and awestruck, standing alone amidst the chaos of a world that was suddenly far vaster and stranger than he had ever imagined.
“What…” he managed to say before a sudden force knocked him out cold.
The next morning, Aldin woke up in his bed, confused. Hadn’t he fainted on the balcony? Dismissing the thought, he ordered breakfast and took another shower. A knock came from the door.
“Room service,” someone called out.
“Just come in!” he yelled back from the shower. When he finished, he found a note with his meal:
Be careful with your powers; you have many enemies.
Don’t the voice in his head warned.
“Don’t what?” Aldin snapped, tired of the voice’s cryptic warnings. He ate anyway, but soon felt dizzy and his vision blurred.
“What…?” was the last thing he said before he collapsed again.

I told you not to eat that, the voice murmured as the shock of freezing water snapped him to alertness. His eyes opened wide, but he couldn’t make his body move.
“At last,” came a taunting murmur from the shadows, “you’re awake.”