“Ya mama, do we have any popcorn left in the kitchen?” Mazen calls from the couch as Bahera and Hakeem turn the corner in the living room.
Bahera’s palm goes to her mouth in slight shock. “Yee la, no we ran out and the stores are closed today. I love popcorn with our shows. Shuu, what do we do? Should I get the fruit?”
Hakeem comes up behind his aunt with three empty bowls in his hands. “Khalto Bahera, you know I don’t mind. I can whip up enough for everyone in a snap.” He offers a knowing wink to his cousins who both chuckle at the hidden pun.
Bahera is about to refuse when Shadi chimes in from his spot on the loveseat opposite them. “Bahera, the boy wants to help, let him help.”
Bahera sighs, then takes two of the bowls, handing one to the twins to fight over and placing one between her and Shadi. Hakeem regards his family with a smirk on his face, causing the light to catch on his glasses. “Okay, who wants to do the honors?”
Before Nour could speak up Mazen throws himself forward, hand raised as shouts out the request. “I wish we had some fresh salt and butter popcorn to watch our shows with.” Nour pouts as she smacks her brother’s arm,earning a giggle from the rest of the room.
Hakeem holds out his free hand, a static of magic swirls around him tousling his brown curls. His eyes shine a soft silver as they fill with power. He says three words then snaps his fingers, magic filling the air around the room. “As you wish.”
The sound of popping kernels fill the room as the bowls begin to fill with hot, fresh salt and butter popcorn. His cousins give a little clap as Hakeem takes a little bow, careful as to not spill the freshly conjured treat from the bowl in his hand. He sits down slowly on the couch next to Mazen. The magic used wasn’t a lot but it still left him a little breathless. His uncle shoots him a concerned look that he brushes off with a kind smile, he doesn’t want him to worry. He may have less mana than the average arcanist but he doesn’t mind using it for his family.
Silver eyes isn’t the only thing Hakeem inherited from his father. Djinn magic, the power to grant wishes. Half-Djinn are rare in the magical realm, less than one hundred in existence. Apparently Hakeem’s father loved his mother so greatly he relinquished his power and body to grant her dying wish, to have a child together. To have Him.
His affinity for djinn magic lessens the strain the wishes caused on his body. Unlike a true djinn, Hakeem could grant seemingly limitless small wishes. But it still left him with little mana flowing through his body. The versatility of this small wish magic meant he could always find his cousin’s favorite dress lost in her mess of a closet. Could fix his aunt’s favorite mug if it ever broke. He could even conjure up umbrellas for days when Shadi and Mazen were stuck in the rain during soccer matches. It let him feel like he was paying back the years of kindness his family offered him.
His Khalo Shadi told him the people on the expedition with his mother signed her death certificate when they offered the job in the human realm. It’s a hard memory for him, the loss of his only sister and the sudden responsibility of raising a newborn. Apparently Hakeem just appeared, a newborn babe fully formed, in the middle of the battlefield where his mother and father once stood. He doesn’t like to talk about the expedition or the group who offered Hakeem’s mother the job. Some nights Hakeemcan almost see her final moments in his dreams, sometimes feeling a dark magic claw at him in his darkest nightmares.
Coincidentally, after some frightful nights as a kid, he would wake up squished between his baby cousins. How they got there, no one knows and they both deny it to this day. Those are some of his favorite memories.
Hakeem is thankful for the life he was given, and for whatever memories his Khalo Shadi was able to share of his mother. He saw the hurt in his uncle’s eyes when he thought of his sister, he doesn’t mean to make Hakeem feel guilty, but the tears are hard to hide. Hakeem doesn’t ask about her much these days but knows he has her same sun kissed skin. From pictures he saw he has her wide smile that filled her cheeks (from a picture of her holding a giant stuffed swan she won at a carnival), the same brown hair; though his tends to curl upwards into a fluffy bush versus her waves that ran down her back. He keeps a pendant around his neck, close to his heart, with her name spelled out in Arabic letters of pure gold; Hiba.
A couple episodes into a family day of streaming shows, Bahera perks up and clasps her hands together. “Yee, I forgot. Sorry, Hakeem I was meant to get you that flier after breakfast. Yallah it’s on the table next to the door. I’ll go get it.”
Before Bahera can get up Hakeem jumps to his feet. He gives his arms and legs a quick stretch and groans in relief. “Sit, Khalto Bahera, sit. I’ll get it, just relax.” Hakeem grabs the flier from the front table and begins reading it as he heads back to the couch next to his cousins. It sounds far too good to be true.
Hakeem hands the flier to Nour when he sits back down, whose curiosity is bubbling out of her. “Wallah, Hakeem, I think you’re right. I know the area, it’s gorgeous. Too bad, this is exactly the kind of place I would want to visit you in.” Nour lets the flier fall to the floor, earning her a glare from her mother, very quickly magicking it back to her hand.
Shadi speaks up from his spot next to Bahera, “La, it’s real. The Nocturne group is a lot of things but dishonest isn’t one of them. The flier is accurate, I know from dealing with them for work.”
It’s surprising to hear his uncle defend the major company in any capacity.Hakeem has known his uncle to dismiss companies like those owned by the Nocturnes or even the LaLunes as nothing but greedy corporate giants.
Hakeem immediately sends an application for a showing, he wasn’t going to let this place go without a fight. The idea of living in Alexandria Heights was a plot line out of one of his sappy romance novels. Hakeem didn’t expect a mysterious billionaire with a dark past, or a dashing wolf with a heart of gold to be waiting behind the doors of the Alexandria, but if he could score an apartment with a view of Wychwood park that would a welcome bonus to his final year and a half at Solomon University.
He finishes tidying up his childhood room, packing all the scattered research notes in their proper files and makes his bed to avoid his aunt’s wrath. Hakeem is grateful for the time his family got to spend together during the holidays.
Hakeem is happy, truly. But something about this apartment, it tugged at his being like a lure reeling in a fish, like something grand awaited him there. He can’t place the odd feeling as his uncle drives him to the train station. Watching the sleepy snow covered town he grew up in fade into the background as his train begins to depart he waves a final goodbye to his family who saw him off at the station.
There are several hours ahead of him before the train reaches Solomon station, so Hakeem decides this was as good a time as any to read one of the new romance novellas he picked up during the holidays. A short and spicy romance between the fated pair of a muscular wolf and a charming elf, falling in love with not just each other but with a mysterious man from their past.
“Where do these authors come up with these plots?” Hakeem chuckles to himself as he reads the description on the back.
He reads the title aloud to himself before cracking it open for the long journey ahead. “A Knight, a Mage and their King, by L.E.N Winters, eh? How does your story unfold?”
Chapter 6
January 3rd, Gregorian year 2030
Jackson Nocturne finishes unpacking his new room in the penthouse apartment of Alexandria Heights. Jean-Claude had portaled all his personal belongings from his old apartment over the night before. Annabella had the place cleaned and dusted ahead of his arrival, with all-new furniture and electronics set up for his comfort. Jackson brews himself a cup of coffee and steps out onto the terrace, taking in the city below.
A large landing filled with potted plants and new outdoor furniture overlooks the grand Wychwood Park, the green heart of Solomon City. The air is crisp up here, the gentle winter sun warming his pale skin. The scent of coffee tickles his nose as he inhales deeply.
Jackson is thankful for his father’s elven blood. His body doesn’t suffer from a vampire’s usual aversion to sunlight. One small blessing amid the pool of dread he feels regarding his magic.
On the table at the terrace’s center, atop a pedestal of runed stone, rests a crystal orb: a mana well. Whenever Jackson felt suffocated by the buildup of mana in his body, he could release it into the orb for storage or even disposal at a later date. He would find a better place for it soon. For now, he just didn’t want it inside his room, constantly reminding him of his lack of control.
