Seth’s dark hair swept over his face as he ran. He sprinted so fast that he was surprised, though he had been getting used to this kind of thing. Odd things had been happening to him, and he didn’t know why. He ran through the forest, dodging easily between thick trees and twisted branches. He got into a clearing, and he sat down on a large rock. He felt like he was thrumming with energy, and suddenly, bright blue sparks danced off his fingertips, and a whole circle of fire erupted around him. He shrank back, holding onto his necklace tightly. He was frightened. The noon sun poured light down into the clearing, illuminating the dancing flames brightly, as well as Seth’s face. He got up, and ran to the flames. He leaped up, and somehow made it over the flames, and landed gracefully on the other side.

            He ran, and fast as lightning, he was in a tree. He’d bounded up it so fast that he was like a blur. A blur of black and white…. He looked down at the circle of flames, and shut his eyes. When he opened them up again, the flames were gone, and all there was left was a circle of dead grass. These outbursts of supernaturalism had become frequent in the everyday life of Seth Corrado, and he wasn’t at all sure why. He was super fast, nimble, a high-jumper… and sometimes lamps exploded or fire hydrants blew up when he walked past them.

            He looked up at the New Haven sky. It was bright blue with fluffy white clouds rolling around in it. When he looked off into the distance, he could see the borderline of New Haven, and he could see the sparkling sea past that. The shimmering sea glittered like waves of luminous embers, the sun casting a golden halo over its still, calm plane, Seth thought. He’d always had a writer’s mind. He shook out of his reverie, and looked down down the twenty feet to the ground, not knowing what to do. He closed his eyes, and allowed himself to slip slightly off of the branch, trusting his newfound abilities. Fear swelled around him, and the twenty feet seemed to taunt him. He finally slipped all the way off… and landed lightly as a feather onto the ground. He’d felt like he’d been hovering in the air, like a bird when they fell. They dove, and then opened their wings to slow their fall. That was how he’d felt.

            Seth looked around cautiously, and then bolted out of the clearing, causing the squirrels and any other animals to dodge away from him or spin around, caught by his tremendous speed. He got out of the thick forest, and dashed back to his house, not looking back at the forest. Normally, it would have taken the average, normal person about twenty minutes to get to the forest from his house, and another to get back.

            But Seth wasn’t normal. He knew that much.


Blake stared at the shimmering haze that coiled around the Coke bottle that was on his sketchbook. He walked briskly over to it and looked down. The liquid was at the same level as it had been in the sketch he’d drawn before. There was even a blank spot, with no colour, in the liquid part that he hadn’t finished colouring. The page below it was blank, as if he’d never drawn anything on it in the first place.

Unus quisnam est unus, came a voice in his head. The one who is the one…

Blake stared at it in shock, unsure of what to do. He bolted down the stairs and grabbed Spencer’s right arm, practically dragging him up the stairs. “Hey! What’s going on?” Blake gave a brief description before he almost tore off Spencer’s arm, urging him up the stairs. When they got into Blake’s room, the mist was beginning to fade, and Blake ran over to it, turning the Coke bottle.

“See! This is even the spot that I never finished colouring!” said Blake, gesturing impatiently. Then he remembered what had been written on the page that he’d sketched on downstairs, and became worried about that. “Wait… if what I sketched came to life, what about the angel war…” he raced out of the room again, and grabbed the page.

And saw that Whist had been looking at it, his blond hair hanging down to his shoulders. His golden eyes gleamed in the light that sifted through the kitchen window. He jumped back, startled. “You’re amazing,” he said. Blake ignored the compliment and explained everything—from the dream to the sketches—in about ten seconds flat. When he finished, he found he was panting.

‘Tantum angelus es licitus habeo vox vox vel professio partum’, ” he quoted.

“What does that mean?” asked Blake, only understanding the word angelus which meant angel.

“It means, ‘Only angels shall be permitted to wield the power of creation through art or words,’” he said. “But you… you are different.”

“Okay. Understood. Sketchbook. NOW!” Blake was up the stairs before he knew it, and had somehow arrived back in his room.

“How did you…” Spencer started, but Blake put a hand up as Whist walked into the room and analyzed the Coke bottle.

“This is very peculiar indeed,” said Whist. He examined the page carefully, and then the bottle. He looked for a long moment, and the Blake lifted his shirt up, and pointed at the angel rune that Rerilen had given him.

“I think it’s because of the rune Rerilen gave me!” said Blake.

“That isn’t his real name, by the way,” said Whist. “That’s his fake, mortal name. His real name is much different. It’s Michael, in fact. The Angel of Miracles.”

Blake didn’t speak, but rather stayed quiet. He felt like he’d said the name a thousand times, like it was familiar to him, though he’d never known anyone by that name. He decided to disregard it, and pointed at the bottle. “What do you think?” he asked. Spencer looked over at him, and then back at Whist.

“I’m not sure. No rune could have done this, and neither could some ordinary person,” said Whist.

“Great!” exclaimed Blake. “So we’ve established that I’m a freak. That I’m ‘special’. I’m a sped. That’s perfect. It explains why I always feel so weird!”

“Blake, you’re not a sped,” laughed Spencer.

“Alright, alright,” said Whist. “Spencer is right Blake, you aren’t a… sped. You’re powerful, that’s for sure. I’m not absolutely sure of what you are. You can bring things to life with artwork, you’re the fastest Magus I’ve ever seen and… wait. There’s been a case like this before. I’ve heard rumors about someone named Seth who’s been experiencing things like this. No one knows exactly where he is, but I think he’s somewhere in Connecticut.”

The End

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