Charley Ashe didn't like the idea of heroes.
In fact, he hated them. He hated that they always won in the end. They always got the girl and saved the planet from being taken over by alien overlords, or something equally crazy. He sighed as he put down the latest edition of Tales of Another Hero.
A splatter of water fell onto the cover. He shook his hair out, sending a cascade of droplets everywhere. If I ever find out who pulled that alarm...
At the end of the school day, someone had pulled it, sending the students fleeing from the building, covering themselves with their bags. Because it was the last day of school, and the principal hadn't been able to nail the culprit, they had been released early. I guess something good came out of it, Charley thought.
"Watch where you're getting that! If you ruin them, you have to pay for them. And if you're going to read them, you better buy one. This is a store, not a library," the clerk behind the counter said.
"Sorry." Charley looked through his pockets and was able to scrounge enough together to pay for the comic, leaving him with a whole seventeen cents. Not nearly enough for the bus fare.
Guess I get to walk... great. He shouldered his bag and started down the street.
With the sun beating down on his shoulders, like a fiery beam of doom, he made it to the park beside the three story condominium that Charley called home.
He'd always loved that park. A little pond sat at the center, surrounded by a collection of swings and play equipment. Bushes lined the sidewalk. But in the summer heat, the plants and grass were all wilted.
Charley stopped as he heard a crack. He looked around and saw something sitting beneath a clump of bushes. He took a step forward and saw the large black dog.
It stared back at him with human eyes that seemed to look through him, almost like they didn't see him. Festering scratches ran across its snout. Without warning, it rose and Charley saw how large it truly was.
"Good dog," Charley said, attempting to placate it.
It curled its upper lip at him. Oh great...
Charley hesitantly backed away. "Good dog," he said again.
It took a step and then bounded at him. Charley started backing away more, keeping his eyes on the advancing dog, almost tripping on his pants. Before he knew it, the dog made one last great leap and took him to the ground.
He attempted to push it off of him, but couldn't move its large bulk. He pushed the mouth away from him, and as he did, a light flickered in front of his eyes. Charley felt a sudden intense feeling of happiness.
Whimpering, the dog leaped from him a second or two after bearing him to the ground. Charley lay there, huffing, for a second.
He sat up and saw a black tail disappear around the corner of the street, and was then gone. Charley picked himself up and felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down and saw the large tear the dogs claws had left in his shirt, forgetting all about the odd moment on the ground. I am so dead, Charley though to himself, a feeling of deep foreboding settling on his shoulders like an albatross.
* * *
Rafe didn't like lookout details. His was a noble blood that deserved better than to sit in wait for a kid. Even if that kid can change everything, he thought to himself begrudgingly. I'm not a babysitter, after all.
Rafe had been sitting in that park for what had felt like hours. He'd wanted so desperately to take a drink from the water, but he knew his master would be mad if the boy had passed at that exact moment. So, he sat and only moved when it was necessary.
Thankfully, he thought to himself, there is shade from the sun. Last time, he had not been so lucky, and his master had made him sit in the bitter cold. This mission was much easier. No annoying cold, and I get shade. The water was really optional, after all. Sitting in wait to look at a boy? Easy. Fun? That doesn't exactly fit the job description.
He looked up at the sun to see the passage of time, and noticed that the sun was now dropping down toward the horizon, though it wouldn't be dusk for hours still. That was when he heard the crunch of the dry gravel laid out on the pathway. Show time.
He lowered his head and peeked toward the sound and instantly recognized the boy as his target.
He leered at him. He's barely large enough to be a snack.
Oh, well. He'd learned long before then that looks could be deceiving, especially where he was from. He blinked, and when he reopened them, he saw not the boy anymore, but an indistinct nimbus of color.
At first, he noticed almost none of the distinct colors he would expect. As he looked at him closer, leaning in a little, he saw that all the mundane colors were blocking what he was looking for.
Not realizing that he had been noticed, he blinked once more and saw the boy was looking at him. Might as well have some fun.. He leered at the boy and charged him, almost recklessly, as his muscles were sore from sitting. He knew his master would forgive him for the small indiscretion, he hoped. It wasn't like the boy would realize what he really was.
Not yet at least.
He always hated come back to his master. Why did he have to choose someplace so dusty to make his lair? All the smells made his ultra-sharp nose wrinkle up. Rafe let out one sneeze.
Pulling himself together, he approached the chair with its back towards him. He heard the shuffling of papers and a slight cough from the other side.
A gnarled hand appeared from the left side of the chair and motioned for him to approach. "Come here, Rafe. Give your report. None of that growling and barking. Take your human form. Wolfish hurts my head, what with all those pitches and body language," an airy voice whispered.
He grimaced not because of the dusty book smell, but because of the changing. First with a crack, and then with much more crunching, his body started becoming more vertical and less furry. Though most of the fur was gone, the hair on the top of his head was still rather matted, and no less black.
The scars too remained, but they were less evident, and none of them were open sores. Thankfully, the transformation allowed for clothes to remain intact, as otherwise it could have gotten very awkward.
He strode to directly behind the chair, knowing to stay on this side. His master didn't like people to look at him. "Master, your intelligence was correct. The boy did, in fact, walk home. I can hardly believe that he will become what you say he must. That puny thing would be overcome by a common boggart, let alone a real warrior."
"You think so do you? What else did you perceive of the boy?" The voice echoed through his head with a hint of amusement. He really wished his master wouldn't invade his head while they talked. He supposed his master's kind couldn't exactly help it.
"He isn't much himself, but the potential is there. I do have to admit, you don't find many Descendants that have auras that powerful in this age."
For a few moments there was a silence from the other side of the chair. "And you say that his aura could already be considered strong? Hmm... Perhaps the parents... maybe... Thank you, Rafe. You have given me much to consider. I have another assignment for you."
Rafe rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming. "Yes?"
"Watch the boy. Make sure the wrong... influences don't get their claws into him until he is ready. He must be ready for what is to come, both here in this world, and in ours... Oh, and make sure you don't scare him again like that. Human form only, please."
With that, the paper shuffling resumed, and the presence that had infused his brain dissipated to nothing, and Rafe realized that his master was done with him for now. Turning from the chair, he walked back out of the building and up the stairs to the street above.
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The Council of Bone
FantasyCharley Ashe is just your average, newly teenaged boy. He reads comics, though he hates them, and he hates the heroes in them even more. So at the end of Charley's eighth grade, when he is attacked by a giant dog, he is surprised to find that his pa...