Chapter 3:

henry: The Drafting

The Kingstone


Henry’s worn body exited the old, broken down factory with his arms hanging below his body. His eyes drooped down and his skin was rough and covered in oil and bruises. He sighed as he moved past the doors and fences that guarded the prison and walked out into a slightly crowded street of men and women, all of them rushing to get where they needed to go. Some men walked out from behind him and let themselves fall into the calm river of citizens, all as Henry looked both left and right. The sky was now a pale orange, the moon already shining down upon a city that didn’t need it yet. The sun had begun to disappear over the tall buildings, slowly crashing down into the Earth. Henry’s hand reached into his pants pocket. The fabric rustled against his fingers as he felt around for the coins that he had placed there beforehand. For a moment, he started to go into a frenzy as he couldn’t feel the aging copper, among other metals, touch his hand. But, he eventually found some in the folds of his pants and quickly breathed a sigh of relief.

Today was pay day for the seventeen year old. Every two weeks he would receive his share of money from the factory owner for his hard labor, and sometimes the man would attempt to cheat him of his pay. Thankfully, Henry had a brain, which meant that he could count the money that had been gifted to him and so, he could accurately point out when Mr. Rogers was cheating him of money. Thank god for school. He thought. He hadn’t been to the building in a year, which was something he didn’t like to admit to himself. After all, he had wanted a proper job with a good education backing him up and whatnot, but as his father had said: ‘Life isn’t fair, boy.’ He grit his teeth. The man was the one that made it unfair for him.

Henry quickly ducked into the small crowd of people and headed to the right, past numerous small buildings. The smoke from the factory was still mixing into the air, contaminating the breathing space around it. He covered his face with his hand and continued on, as others coughed and did the same as him. Blocky by block, he continued to move on. His legs began to ache as he walked forwards, but he didn’t stop himself once. He had done the walk numerous times, he could do it again. The buildings eventually started to devolve into houses with a nice look to them. They were homely and had some good looking features to them. Henry particularly liked the twentieth one he always passed. It had a nice patch of well trimmed grass growing around it, and a sign was lodged into it. ‘Beware ThE Mom!” It said, in bright red colors. For some reason, the E in the word ‘the’ was capitalized, but that just made the warning funnier. He thought that it was cute, and that was enough to make it fun to look at, in his book.

After another block or two, he made his way into the rougher territory of houses. They were worn down, old, some of them filled with moss. The grass was rougher around them, it was obvious that it wasn’t trimmed or anything of the sort, and they were small. Not small in a warm way, more like in a poor way. He didn’t like looking at these houses at all. Most people thought that these houses were the worst part of the neighborhood, but past that lay Henry’s home. That was the true ‘worst part of the neighborhood’.

A tiny apartment building stood in front of Henry, reluctantly waiting for him to enter it’s…miniscule jaws. He carefully placed his hand on the door handle, making sure to avoid blisters, and twisted the door open. Inside was a small desk. Stains were catapulted around the room and a bench that was covered in dust sat in front of the reception. Inside of the reception desk sat a fat old woman. She was reading some book, Henry couldn’t make out the title, but he didn’t really care either way. She was always reading some book, always putting her loafs of feet everywhere but in her own shoes, on the floor. Her chins rested upon her neck, shaking a little as she flipped the page. The lady’s name was Patty. It was just Patty. No one knew her last name, of course. She hadn’t told anyone about it. From that piece of information, you would think that she was some antisocial old blob that had no fun interacting with another person. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Patty loved talking to others, and that’s exactly why Henry has never liked her. She’s too friendly, too…showy. She always speaks with that thin, but low, voice of hers and it annoyed the crap out of the teenager. Patty looked up at him and grinned. Her teeth were filled with muck and who knows what else, but it was a pretty smile nonetheless. The lady could flash her teeth as wide as possible, that’s for sure.

“Hey, Henry-Baby!” She greeted. Her nickname for the boy made him gag. She had taken to calling him that as he’s grown up, along with some…other things. Henry made a visible sign of disgust, before walking past her. “Oh, c’mon! Show some love for Auntie Patty!” Her voice began to fade into the background as he opened the door in front of him. He made sure to duck before heading through it, after all, he wasn’t in the mood to hit his head. He ran through the flights of stairs that went up throughout the apartment building, quickly pushing his leg up and bouncing onto the next step. It wasn’t until he hit the third floor that he stopped and looked towards his left. He went towards the wooden door that awaited him. A small nail was pounded into it, with a sign hanging on top of it. Third Floor, it said.

Henry pushed it open to find a large hallway filled with doors. Each door was right next to the other door, each one crowded and being pushed inwards. The carpet was fuzzy and filled with substances that Henry, even after years of living here, had no idea what they were. All he knew was that they were dirty enough to color the rugs like a rainbow. The walls were painted with a bland gray that burned his eyes. He shook his head and continued to his right. When he had walked for a while, he finally arrived at his room. Room 342. He reached into his left pocket and pulled out a rusted key, before thrusting it into the room door. He shifted it all around before the lock untightened and he pushed the wooden barrier open.

Hidden behind the door was a cramped, but clean room. It was dark and full of shade, so Henry turned the lights on and put his dirty bag on the floor, next to one of the two tidy beds in the room. He wiped a drop of sweat off of his brow and started towards the bathroom when he noticed a note laying atop of the other bed. It was cleanly folded and placed right in the middle of his bed. He reached for it and opened it, only to be bombarded with his mothers handwriting.

I’m going to be late again today. Her messy handwriting spelled out. Henry squinted and tried to understand what the rest of it was saying. You’re going to have to get dinner on your own. I left two dollars for you on the top of the closet, so go down to the first floor and buy something from a shop nearby. He looked towards the closet and then walked over to it, note still in hand. He reached up and placed his hand onto the top of it, before he felt around it. The dust shifted from right to left as he struggled to find where the money was, but he eventually could feel it slide against his hand. He quickly grasped the dollar bills and pulled them down, a mischievous smile covering his face as he stared at the money. He looked back towards the note and kept on reading. Also, take out the trash from the bathroom and throw it into the can outside, please. I can’t take the stink anymore. Henry scowled and threw the note on the bed, only for it to slowly float down. He watched it land onto the soft mattress before he turned around, money now in his pocket, as he headed towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was relatively clean. His mother and him try not to get it dirty and throw things around, so it’s overall a nice place to be. It’s really the only place in the whole damn apartment that offers him some privacy, so of course he keeps it as clean as possible. He walks over to the small trash can filled with tissues and other things, before he pulls up the ends of the bag and ties it up. He pulls it out and slings it over his shoulder before he then heads off to the other cans to do the same. Eventually, he had three trash bags in hand. One was slung over his shoulder, being carefully held by a string in between his pits, while the other two dripped down from his hands. He carried them with care as he imagined the trash spilling out from underneath and the mess he would have to clean up. He shivered. That would be absolutely horrible. He thought, as he made his way out of the room and down the stairs.

He walked through the grimey lobby once more, Patty still kicking her chubby tendrils she called legs up and watching him walk past her. She motioned towards him but he ignored her. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the old ladies' antics. He pushed the lobby doors open to a brisk night sky. A large gust of wind attacked him and pushed the trash, and him, back a step. Even though it was only the middle of March, the cold was beginning to clear up. The only thing that was able to make him shiver now was the wind. He took a few steps forward and made his way to the large garbage dump at the edge of the perimeter. It was walled off by fences and a lock, a lock that Henry clicked open with his key. He stumbled inside and lifted the dump lid open quickly, before he threw the trash in and slammed the door shut as fast as he could. He had encountered raccoons and other animals in the trash before, and he had no desire to endure another encounter like that.

Henry moved out of the dump, the smell of the rotting garbage was beginning to get to him, and then he locked the gate. I’m gonna have to wash my hands before I eat. He thought. He slipped past the lousy apartment building into the darkness, his legs sliding forwards as he looked around. There should be a Mcdonalds somewhere near here. He had been there once with a few friends and he absolutely loved it. The food was great and it was affordable too, and of course it didn’t take very long to get the food and then eat it. It was perfect for a guy like Henry, and so he went around looking for it. It took a while before he could start to see it forming up in the distance, and Henry’s thoughts had begun to wander back to his mom. Has she come back home yet? What is she even doing right now? He looked towards the rough ground as more people started to appear and walk past him.

He thought about how his life was at the moment. It had gone from carefree fun to more and more work. The city and his family were still reeling from the effects of the depression, and Henry just wished that those effects could go away. But they wouldn’t, he knew. Nothing was going to go away unless he made it go away.

The wait inside of the Mcdonalds was pretty quick. Not that many people stood in line for food today, something that was becoming rarer and rarer, he knew. He ordered a drink and some food with the money he had, but he had saved as much as possible and kept it for himself. The meal went down easy, especially when it came to actually eating the damn thing. It tasted great. Definitely one of the best meals I’ve had in the past month or two. Food has been something he had been working far, but his mother made at the very least, just a little every day, so the two were able to eat regularly. Yet, his mother was a stickler about saving money. He wondered how she would ever allow him to go out to eat. In the end, he walked out of the store with all of the food having been finished and chucked into a trash can. He grinned and patted his stomach. Man, that tasted great. He thought. He reached back into his pocket and felt a few coins bounce around. I wonder if that’s enough to buy a comic book. He thought about saving the money for one of the colorful books, but in the end he decided against it. After all, he needed to save as much money as possible.

He had only been inside of the restaurant for less than fifteen minutes, but the air outside was different than it had been before. It felt more mystical, in a sense. As if something big was about to happen. Henry hurried forwards through the streets as they slowly became less and less crowded. Moths gathered around the street lights as a peacefulness started to set itself loose upon the streets of New York. Yet, he could only feel a sense of dread. It was then, when no one else found themselves near him, that he heard a rough yet excitable voice burst out from the darkness.

“Hey.” Henry stopped in his place and looked around in fear. No one seemed to be near him. He shifted his gaze in all directions but no one was there. A small bead of sweat flung itself down from his head as he turned purple with fear. Who was that? He stood there for a moment, wary of the voice that had spoken out from the darkness. But even he had to start moving again. He needed to get out of here. The teenager had no idea who had spoken, but he wasn’t about to stay there and figure out who it was. It was ironic, however, that when he moved forward, the man decided to come out. He had thick, curly blonde hair and small blue eyes. His nose was skinny and he had a small scar on his right cheek. His face and jaw were thick and defined, and his lips were patched and red. Yet, even though he was extremely handsome when you analyzed him, it didn’t seem that way on your first look. He had droopy, tired eyes. Bags held them up, large, dark bags. He was sweating heavily and his back was arched forwards. In fact, the man wasn’t even very tall. He seemed to be a bit shorter than most of Henry’s male teachers. A patchy mustache covered his face, making him look rough and unkept. In general, he just seemed to be extremely tired. His clothes didn’t help him either. He wore a large black suit that covered him like a tarp. His tie was falling out of the clothes though and wasn’t tucked in, and the suit had a few stains. One of them looked like a blood stain, which made Henry gag. The stranger was wearing matching black pants, except they were so tight that you could see the imprints of his leg’s muscles on them. This man was full of muscle, Henry realized. He seemed to have large, thick arms and almost no fat on his belly. Henry shook as he watched the man approach him. What the hell could a guy like this want with me?! He thought. The man made his way over to him with a groan.

“Who-” Henry stuttered and backed away for a minute. “Who are you?!” He tried to sound powerful, like he was in control, but instead his voice was shaky and broken. He coughed a little as the stranger had a look of amusement overtake his face. He chuckled and moved even closer. Henry backed up and began to get into a fighting stance. He had been in a fight before, only once though. It had been after school when a few of the more popular boys in his grade appeared, led by their leader Jack, and began to attack him. He had been beaten up to the point where he could barely stand because of them, but he was still able to take most of them down. In the end, he found himself with a fractured arm and numerous bruises. Henry had wondered why they attacked him, but when he went back to school, his friend Charley told him what happened. “Jack’s girlfriend called you cute!” Even now he wondered why he had to have been hurt like that just because some girl had been mildly attracted to him, but there was a sense of satisfaction in that. After all, no matter what Jack did to him, he could never erase his girlfriend’s words, could he? In any case, that fight had taught him a few things, which he was sure he could use against this man. And yet, a sense of fear was spreading throughout his body, and he wasn’t sure why. The man stopped in front of him and laughed once more.

“Kid, put your damn hands down.” He had a soft country accent covering his voice, which was loud and enthusiastic. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” The stranger slid his hands into his pockets and leaned back a little. He seemed to be relaxed. Henry gulped.

“Alright, then tell me who you are.” He tried to be calm, but he knew that he couldn’t be.

“Relax. You’re Henry Gross, right?”

“How-?!”

“Alright, there’s my answer. Listen, you little cunt, you’re being drafted.” Drafted?! Henry stared at the man with wide eyes, his mind now deep in thought. Being drafted means he has to go fight in the army, but why? There’s no war being waged right now, so there’s no need to join the military. And in any case, you aren’t drafted by a random man in the middle of the street. You’re drafted in other ways. Henry wasn’t sure as to what those ways were, but he knew that they had to be more professional than…this.

“Drafted for what?” He asked. The man stared at him for a moment, before he grinned.

“The Sacred War, of course.” It seemed like he expected a look of shock to come over Henry’s face, but instead there was just confusion. He wasn’t sure as to what the man meant. A Sacred War? What the hell is that? He hadn’t read about it in the papers.

“What’s that?” Henry asked. The stranger’s eyes spread themselves open and for a moment the bags that had appeared under his eyes disappeared.

“What kind of mage are you?” Mage? “How do you not know what the Sacred War is?” He took his arms away from his pants and moved them towards his chest, before crossing them around it. His eyes flickered as his mouth twisted into different expressions. Henry tilted his head. The shock and fear from before were still there, and he obviously wanted to get home, but a part of him wanted to see more of this. After all, it isn't every day of the week that you meet a crazy person. Yet, he needed to get out of here. Who knew what this man would do to him?

“Who the hell are you? I won’t ask again.” He asked, one more time. ​​The man continued to stare at him, before he put his palm on his head as if he was dealing with some sort of extreme stupidity. He took his hand off and stared at Henry as he shook his head.

“God damn it…” He muttered, as he continued to shake his head. “Kid, does the name Edward Brown mean anything to you?” Henry stood there and thought for a moment. Had he heard such a name before?

“...No.” Why the fuck is he asking me this? “And why does it matter? Just tell me who you are and what you want with me!” He stopped in his tracks as soon as he finished the sentence, his face full of realization. I said I wouldn’t ask again! He glared at the man with angry eyes. If he makes me ask one more time, I’ll run past him. The man had a sly grin on his face, as if he was enjoying all of this.

“And? Why should I tell you?” Henry quickly dug his foot into the ground behind him, before he pushed forwards and started running. He prided himself on his running speed, he was always quick on his feet. He knew that he could make it past the man and make it home within the next two minutes if he sprints. Henry wouldn’t even need those two minutes. All he would have to do is just leave this man in the dust. He stepped right past the stranger and moved forwards, only for the stranger’s eyes to slide back and look at him with annoyance, before his body appeared right in front of Henry. He gasped as the man raised his arm and gave him a deep punch, right in his stomach, sending him tumbling onto the ground. He put his hands on his stomach and coughed as spit dug itself out from the bottom of his gums. He looked up at the stranger as he stood over him. His face was now contorted between annoyance, anger and amusement. He laughed at Henry as smoke began to appear all around him. “Leave it to those old shits to force me to explain this shit for them…” The smoke surrounded the two of them, and it was so thick that Henry could barely see through it. He coughed and looked around, but the smoke melted into the air as if it were a cloud, making his eyes water as he closed them and rubbed them. It’s getting hard to breathe…! His eyes opened up again when the smoke was gone and he was in his room. He was sitting on the floor, his head moving around as he stared at the apartment room. How-?

“Your apartment room is nice.” Henry looked up to see the man sitting in his bed, leaning into the cushion that allowed him to relax on the mattress. He was holding his mothers letter in one hand, while his other was free and on his stomach. Henry jumped up and stared at him in shock. He had never known as much fear in life as he felt right now.

“Ho- how are we-?!”

“There’s a lot I’ve got to explain, you little bitch.” He patted the blanket and a satisfied smile creeped onto his face. “Sit down somewhere.” It was then that the idea that this random man that had attacked him in the middle of the street was now lying down on his bed finally set itself upon Henry.

“Get off of my bed!” He yelled. The stranger dug himself deeper into the mattress and yawned.

“Sit down before I punch you again. I don’t have unlimited time, you know.” His eyes followed Henry as he felt the emptiness in his stomach from that punch once more and begrudgingly pushed himself off the ground and sat on the other bed. Henry shook with anger and humiliation as he stared at the man. “Don’t look at me like that, you fucking brat.” He grimaced. “Be respectful towards your damn elders.” Henry’s legs tightened back and he looked away, but his mouth said something else.

“Who are you?! What the fuck do you want from me?!” He yelled.

“My name is Francis, and I told you before. I’m here to draft you for the Sacred War. But you don’t know what the hell that is, so it’s up to me to explain it to you.” He sighed. “Do you know what a mage is, at least?” Henry grit his teeth and pushed himself off the floor, his hands waving in the air as he opened his mouth to yell.

“A mage!? I don’t care about mages! How the hell did you get inside my house!? And why’re you here anyways?!” Francis stared at him, his eyes getting tighter and tighter as he looked like he was holding something in. “Are you here to kill me or something?!” It was then that Henry thought about his mother and where she must be right now. He looked over at the clock that had stuck itself in between both of the beds and saw the hands of the clock arrange themselves in a way that told him that it’s 8:32 PM. He had a small moment of relief. His mother would definitely take a while to get home, an hour at least, and he could deal with this man beforehand. He looked towards the drawer of his mothers bed and thought about how quickly he could reach it. Hidden inside of that drawer was his mothers gun. It was a Walther PPK pistol that she had one day picked up from a shop in some state way back when. “That thing is like my real firstborn son.” He remembered her telling him. He had done target practice with it once or twice in some back alley ways, but he didn’t get far without needing to run away from police officers coming to investigate the noise. Eventually, he gave up on learning how to aim a gun, until recently when his mother taught him how to at least hold and aim it. In any case, if he could just reach it, he could shoot this madman and get away with the whole incident by saying it was an act of self defense.

But then Francis’ voice shot out at him and he quickly looked back. “I’m not here to kill you, but I will if you don’t shut up.” He threatened. Henry looked at him and narrowed his eyebrows as the man rested his hands behind his head. He seemed almost lazy. “I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me to, so let me do my job and then we’ll be done here.” He watched Henry as if he was expecting him to nod and bow them to him. “You understand?” Henry thought about it for a moment, before he glanced at his mothers bed and thought about the pistol. How long would it even take for him to reach the thing? He looked back at Francis and examined him up and down, before he saw the edge of a pistol hilt peeking out from behind his coat. So much for that. “Do you understand, kid?” He asked once more, this time with anger starting to heat up his words. Henry just nodded, leading to a happy smile appearing on the man's face as he motioned for him to sit down. Henry slowly dropped his behind towards the floor, and crossed his legs together as he watched the man in front of him take a deep breath.

“Listen closely, kid. I’m not explaining this shit twice.” The man’s overuse of profanity annoyed Henry for some reason. He wasn’t really sure why, but it set something off inside of him. He did use curse words too, so maybe it was hypocritical, but this Francis guy used the language in almost every one of his sentences, and it annoyed him to no end. “There’s a special type of people that can use magic.” Henry stared at Francis like he was crazy.

“Magic?” He asked in disbelief. Francis frowned.

“Yeah, magic. Any guy can use it to some extent, but there’s a special race of people that can use it to a higher power.” He stopped for a moment, as if he wanted the boy to soak in what he’s telling him. “Got it?” Henry thought for a minute. Magic can’t be real… He was having trouble believing the invader in front of him, but if pretending to believe would make this crazy guy go away, it’s worth trying. And so, he nodded his head and Francis continued. “The strongest magic user in the world is usually the King Of The World. Their job is to protect everyone and stop major threats and wars from happening.”

“If the King is supposed to protect everyone,” Henry interrupted. “Why the hell are there still so many wars going on?!” He stared at Francis with a grin plastered all over his face. I’ve got you! How the hell are you going to explain this, crazy guy? Francis’ scowl only seemed to get worse as he began two explain.

“That’s the problem, smart ass. The Kings have all been dying quicker and quicker. Our last king was the one to end the second world war, until he was assassinated.” He sighed and shook his head. Assassinated? Henry was beginning to get confused.

“But didn’t you say he’s the strongest-”

“Well, there was someone stronger. Are you going to let me finish or not?!” He yelled. Henry slouched and nodded. “Anyways, now that he’s dead there’s a sort of war that’s arranged where twenty participants converge in one large area and then engage in a battle to the death. The winner of that fight becomes the new King, and they also get the power to have any one wish that they want granted.” A sad smile emerged onto his face and he looked towards the floor, but only for a moment. He then looked back up at Henry and the smile disappeared. “So all you have to do is survive long enough and kill enough people for you to become the new King and get whatever the fuck you want.” Survive and kill?!

“Wait, how am I even qualified for this?!”

“Potential, I’m guessing. You ain’t no mage, but I can sense a lot of power coming from inside you.” He pointed towards Henry and nodded. “Maybe with training you could get strong enough to fight people like me.” He said, as he got up and yawned. Henry watched him with fear spreading through him. He gulped and put his right hand over his mouth. I know that he’s definitely lying…he’s definitely lying…but what if he’s not? What if those magis or whatever the hell they’re called are coming to kill me? He sat there for a minute, quaking with sweat and anxiety as he attempted to convince himself of reality. He’s insane… he has to be. He looked up at the man and shook his head.

“You’re crazy.” Henry mutters. “You’re definitely crazy.” He raised his hand and pointed towards the door, his fingers shaking as he continued to speak. “Get out of my room, please.” Francis stared at him with a look of complete disbelief on his face, before he put his hands on his hips and laughed. Francis watched him with annoyance as the man sighed and began to walk away.

“That’s fine by me. My job was just to tell you about the damn war, not force you to believe it.” He stood by the door and slowly turned the lock on it, before opening it wide in front of him. He turned back and stared at Henry. “But you should take some precautions, at least. I don’t want the Sworn to think that I didn’t tell your sorry ass about this.” He then turned around, walked out and slowly closed the door. Henry watched it for a few minutes after the man left, his head being caught in a swirl of thoughts. He thought of the man and how he got it, and then he remembered the smoke that had engulfed him. For a moment, he believed him, but he knew that none of this could be true, and so those thoughts escaped him. Magic… Henry pushed himself up and slowly walked towards his bed, before he climbed in and shoved himself under the security of his warm and heavy blanket. The heat surrounded him as he shut his eyes and tried to sleep. He thought about all that had happened tonight as the darkness engulfed him and the world turned black.

Henry woke up that morning with a headache. He slowly pushed himself out of the blanket only to see his mother’s golden hair leaking out from underneath the blanket. He groaned and got up, his legs aching as he moved towards the bathroom. As he washed his face, the fact that he hadn’t taken a shower last night had dawned on him, and he quickly looked towards the clock. 7:14. School started at 7:30, and Henry always took a long time to finish showering. He would probably be done by the time school starts, and so obviously he couldn’t shower. But at the same time, he smelled horrible and he was dirty due to his work in the factory last night. He thought about it for a moment, before he threw his clothes off and slid into the shower. He timed himself as he washed his body, his thoughts wandering from time to time, but he always tried to keep them fixated on the time. It wasn’t until the word ‘magic’ slipped into his mind that he started to forget his timer and instead think of the last night. Was any of what the man said true? Did any of that even happen? Henry decided to just believe the latter and forget the rest.

It was 7:24 by the time he had escaped the wet confines of the shower and had slipped into his clothes, and Henry knew that things weren’t looking good for him. It took him 20 minutes to make it to the school, around 12 if he ran, but he knew that there was no hope. He sighed and decided to just make it as soon as possible. He wiped down his hair and looked into his bag, and for a moment he was thankful for falling asleep last night, because he had forgotten to take his materials out of his bag. He threw the bag over his shoulder and lept down the stairs, sprinting past Patty and the houses nearby, moving past the factories and the tall city buildings and ducking through large crowds of busy people and beggars. By the time he got to the school, he was completely winded. Henry was a good runner, but he could barely sprint. He was about to collapse on the floor, right then and there, but the building was right in front of him, and he had to go in.

The day was long and monotonous. The classes seemed to pass by like he was in a dream, and his teachers noticed that. He was called on over and over again, and it annoyed him to no end. He just wanted to be with his own thoughts…could the teachers not allow him that? Lunch was also no fun for the boy. His friends played football outside as he sat and choked down the garbage that the school was serving the kids that couldn’t bring their own food. Today it was some sort of pizza, or at least, he hoped it was pizza. He kept on biting small pieces into it, but by the time lunch was over, he had to throw it out. He kept on walking out of the lunchroom when he felt someone tap on his shoulder and turned around.

“Hey, Henry.” The boy in front of him was a simple looking teenager with short but thick orange hair. His face was bland and his eyes were droopy.

“Aidan.” He said. Aidan had been a good friend of his for a while now. “What’s happening?” He asked him. Henry just wasn’t really in the mood to deal with his friend. He was a quiet, unenergetic boy that relied on Henry’s enthusiasm to carry the conversation. He wasn’t feeling like he could carry the conversation today, though.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Henry could feel his voice hitting him like a heavy anvil. “You seem like you’re out of it today.” Henry smiled. He was grateful for Aidan’s care, but he didn’t feel like telling him about his delusions.

“Yes, I’m fine. There’s no need to worry.” Henry placed his hand on Aidan’s shoulder and nodded. “Thanks, though.” With that, he turned around and left Aidan alone in the lunchroom. The rest of the day was a blur for Henry, and the same applied to his work. His hands were moving, but his mind wasn’t thinking. He made numerous mistakes that day, and that resulted in his boss yelling at him and telling him that he’s getting a cut on his pay, which infuriated Henry, but didn’t make him yell out or anything like that. Instead, he just took the humiliation and went home. The day had been rough, and his legs were aching. All Henry had wanted to do was go to sleep after such a long day, and yet, the world wouldn’t let him rest.

For when he came near his apartment, a man in a casual business suit was standing in front of his door. He had clean, nicely kept straight hair, with completely clear skin and not a lick of facial hair on his face. The man had a European look about him, but many high class men in America had that feeling surrounding them. The man saw Henry and coughed a little, before striding towards him. He stuck out his arm and gripped Henry’s hand when he put his hand towards him. His grip was tight and it made his already sore arms feel even worse. Henry looked up at the man as he gave a quick smile.

“Hello, Henry. My name is Phillip Reeves.” He continued to shake his hand, before he finally let go and put his arm down towards his side. Henry gulped.

“Hi, uhm, Mr. Reeves.” Reeves’ serious face seemed to brighten up a little after Henry’s small formality. I guess he likes being called that? “So, what brings you here?” He asks.

“Well,” Reeves starts. “I’m here for the Sworn.” The Sworn?! “You have met Francis Rogers, am I right? The informant for the Sacred War?” The Sacred War! Another one had come after him now, and it was just two days in a row. This may just be some ploy, but at the same time, Henry felt as if the ploy had gone too far into reality. He started to back away as he stared at Reeves.

“Yeah…and what do you want?” It first started off as a whisper, but slowly he started yelling. “What do you guys want with me?!” He yelled out. “I just - this can’t be real! Leave, please!” He pointed at the door, his anger boiling over as Reeves gave him a sympathetic look and moved towards him, before placing his hand on Henry’s shoulder.

“I understand how you feel. This was a lot for me when I first found out about it too, but you must trust me. This is the truth, and I’m here to help you through it.” His voice was calm and relaxed Henry a little bit, but he still shook with fear as he imagined all the terrible things that could happen to him because of these people.

‘Wha- what do you mean you’re here to help me through it?” Reeves chuckled and moved his hand away from Henry, before he put his hand on his chest and gave another quick twinkle.

“I was assigned by the Sworn to be your teacher, to help you learn about magic in time for the Sacred War. For you see, you’re one of the people that the Sworn have bet on.” He grasped Henry’s hand. “They want you to win this war, Henry!”

Shnux
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