Stroke of Midnight

Chapter Two: Aidan

Aidan finished setting the logs in a neat pile on the side of the cottage, brushing his hands together to get the last of the dust and wood flakes off his skin. Almost finished for the day it wasn't even sundown yet. He grinned as he tipped his head up to enjoy a moment of peace. Griffin and Malik would return any time now from their gallivanting around the village and his stepfather would be back before dinner, or at least that was what he said. Hagan was a businessman, a merchant who traveled often and always returned home late, though he still expected a hot meal and warm fire waiting for him whenever he returned. Just another thing on Aidan's to-do list to get done before he returned. Clean out the hearth (him and his brothers rarely used it when their father wasn't home), make sure there was dinner ready for his stepbrothers and plenty of leftovers for Hagan. Most times Hagan came home drunk, making for a riotous and painful time for Aidan, especially when he did a less than exemplary job with keeping up with household chores.

They had Sara, but she was the only maid they could afford, and really, the only reason she stuck around was because she took pity on Aidan. She didn't get paid nearly enough to deal with all a household such as his. Though Aidan knew she only stayed for him, he was thankful for it. Sara had been there all his life. Had been his real parent's housekeeper and had fed him and played with him when he was just a baby. She was there when Aidan's father fell ill and died. She was there when, after his father's death, his mother fell in love and remarried Hagan with his wicked two sons. They had acted like perfect little angels around her, model stepsons, but whenever she had her back turned or when they were alone in a room with Aidan, they would torment him relentlessly. Aidan had never had the courage or the heart to tell his mother the truth of how he got the bruises and the black eyes. Sara was there when, a year after marrying Hagan, she was caught in a terrible accident. Her carriage went over the side of Lovelace Bridge. Her head struck the side of the carriage and she was dead instantly, or at least that was what the physician had told him when he asked.

"You got my firewood?" Sara asked as Aidan entered the small kitchen.

Aidan held up the logs and smiled. "I do."

"Good. Why don't you get the fire started while I finish cutting these up," she said, gesturing with her knife at the carrots.

Aidan nodded and set the logs down in the kitchen hearth. He glanced around, a force of habit now, before reaching his hand out and lighting the logs with flames. Sara tutted which only made Aidan grin as he straightened and went to grab a knife and help her cut the rest of the vegetables.

"There are other ways to make a fire you know. Someone could have seen," she scolded, a black eyebrow at him.

"Sara, no one's home. It's just us and unless you plan on turning me over to the sheriff, I think I'm safe."

Sara was the only one who knew about his magic. In a town like this, where witchcraft was feared above all else, where anyone who exhibited even a hint of magic was hung, Aidan had to keep his head down and his... talent in check. He would never forget the day when Hagan dragged him to the village square and forced him to watch a witch hang. Aidan had only been thirteen. That was the same night when he had tried to fall asleep and woken up from a nightmare, the candle's flames next to his bed flaring with his panic.

At first, he had written the signs off as coincidences. Accidents. Candles' flames would leap or wane, responding to his emotional state. Logs of wood would settle into place without him having to touch them. But it was when Sara had cut her hand deep with a kitchen knife that Aidan could no longer hide what was happening to him. He had been in such a panic, afraid that Sara would lose her hand that he had instinctively grabbed her hand in his and closed his eyes, concentrating. When he released her, the wound had been healed, not even a faint scar to be seen.