By Lord Fintan
Synopsis: Anthony is a Telepathy prodigy. No one except for a select girl from his school can read his mind. Together, the two work together to find the different complex twists and turns of Anthony's past and who his real biological parents are. But as they search, they realize this is more advanced that just a simple family incident. On accident, they may have suddenly stumbled upon a thousand-year-old ancient forgotten legacy.
"Something's wrong with you," Sir Lawrence said for what must've been the tenth time.
Many people tell me that. I'm not normal. I never will be ordinary.
"I'm sorry, Sir," I said. "I wish I could control--"
"But you can't, can you?" Sir Lawrence asked hotly. "You never will be able to. You freak. Now get out of my classroom. Now!"
I was hurt a bit. Sir Lawrence was my Telepathy mentor. He was very angry with me, like always. I had always been great friends with him. Once I manifested as a Telepath, I was so excited I got to spend more time with him. But when he found out he couldn't read my mind, he was livid. There was no way to teach me if he couldn't enter my mind. That was what made me a freak. No one could read my mind, not even the best of probes.
I stormed down the halls of Foxfire, up to Study Hall to do my homework. It was thirty minutes early, so I hoped I wouldn't run into any mentors. But I also hoped I could finish my homework before the others came up, so I could leave.
I had social problems. And no one liked me. So what was I supposed to do? I was the creepy kid, with the freaky abilities.
My name is Anthony Ward, and I'm a Telepath and a Shade. I have black hair that comes down to my shoulders, with nearly black eyes and light olive skin. I'm normal-sized for my age.
By the time Study Hall officially started, I was already gone. I had finished my homework and was headed home. As much as I hated my house, I hated school more.
I hated my parents. They were really sweet and caring. But there was nothing they could do. They are both Talentless. They cannot sympathize for me. You see, they tell me I'm adopted, but they don't know who my parents are.
I wanted to go upstairs to my room, but my dad was blocking my way at the front door. He wouldn't move.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Anthony," my dad said. "We just got word of something."
"Wow, you got news," I said. "That's a first."
My dad sighed. "There's a girl. Angela Foster."
"Dad, you think I'm interested in a celebrity?" I asked.
I knew Angela from school. She was a beautiful girl, but I had never talked to her or really been near her. She WAS a celebrity in Foxfire and the Elvin world. Her mom was the lady who saved the world, Sophie Foster!
"Just listen to me for one second," my dad said. "She's a very powerful Telepath. And she's an Empath. You know how no one can read your mind?" I nodded. "Well, Angela says that she believes she can."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "No one can read my mind!"
"She wants to be Cognates with you."
I sat down in a chair a few feet away from Angela.
“So, the famous Angela Foster,” I said. “What do I owe the honor?”
Angela sighed. Most people did after I talked. “I’m here for something I don’t need to do. But I want to. And I won’t tolerate you being rude.”
“Okay, fair enough, Your Highness,” I said.
Angela frowned, but continued. Her brow furrowed, but I couldn’t feel her consciousness at all.
“Ugh, you’re so difficult,” Angela said. “Let me hold your hand.”
“What?” I asked. She reached for my hand, but I retracted it. “Heck no, lady!”
“Please, let me do this,” Angela said. Her pleading beautiful eyes were what threw me over the fence and made me agree.
He scowled and let her take his hand.
“Woah,” Angela said a minute later.
“What?” I asked.
“Your mind is so…dark,” Angela said. “But…I think we can be Cognates. I see the potential within you.”
“Wait…” I said.
Angela put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to say that.”
“You’re a Descryer, aren’t you?” I asked.
“I just discovered it a few weeks ago,” Angela admitted. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course not,” I said. “But there’s a good start for us.”
“What do you mean?” Angela asked.
I grinned for what must've been the first time in years. “Cognates share all their secrets.”
As I lay in bed the same night, a terrible nightmare overcame me. Pain surged through my head like venom spreading through my head. I tried to shake from the feelings, tried to escape, but there was no way out. I heard a whisper that bounced off the side of my head. First, it sounded quiet, and then it raised until the noise was unbearable.
Anthony Ward…Anthony Ward…
A terrible vision flooded into my head, and I couldn’t stop it. A man, running in black shoes across the snowy hill, toward a tall tree. I could only see his shoes, but then it zoomed out. A man in a long blue cloak with long black hair was sprinting like his life depended on it. His face was hard to see.
Men in black cloaks ran up the hill, not stopping at all. They were shouting, “That’s him! That’s the one he wants! Get him!”
The man in blue kept running, coming to the tree. The man in blue stopped at the tree, he was easier to see now. He had a bloody cut that ran all the way up his arm. The man…was he crying? He took out a vial of green liquid from his cloak, looking at it as it shined in the dim light around him. He had a sign on his wrist, and it seemed to be shining after he whispered a painful whisper to it.
A man in a red cloak ran in front of the black-cloaked figures. The red-cloaked man swiped his hand in the air, and a wall of fire erupted from the snow in front of the black-cloaked figures. The red-cloaked man sprinted toward the blue-cloaked man and kneeled down to see the blue-cloaked man, who was now laying down, breathing shallow breaths of pain.
“Marcus,” the red-cloaked man said. “Marcus, what the heck were you doing?”
“Oc-Octavian?” Marcus asked.
“Don’t call me that!” Octavian said, slapping Marcus across the face. “I trusted you to keep it safe!”
“It’s safe, it’s safe!” Marcus insisted, showing him the vial. “I don’t think I will be there when it happens—take it.”
“No, no, I can’t,” Octavian said. “You know what I’ve done now. There is no escaping for me. Only for you.”
Marcus tried to get up but failed. He coughed heartily. He shook the vial, marveling at it, as if it could soothe his pain. Then he gave it to Octavian, and Octavian smiled, a tear slipping down his cheek before he slipped it in his own cloak and snapped. Flames shot up, killing any alive people around, and then darkness closed in, and the vision was over.