The Contemporary Chronicles

“Do I make you proud?” The young boy started, before happily declaring, “I finished the book!” He possessed a leather-covered book in both hands. His grandfather, comfortably seated beside him, gave a faint hum of acknowledgement.

“That’s great to hear, my boy.” The man returned. A wrinkled grin streamed luminescence onto his stern face. In his lap, laid a notepad. Weltschmerz, the writing said.

“Grandpa, I haven’t seen you smile in a long time!” The child exclaimed, gazing at his grandfather.

“Oh, Alexander.” And the room fell into an awkward silence once more. Meanwhile, in his grandfather’s tote bag, a little black book was piled above the others. The black-covered book caught Alexander’s eyes, as the 9 year old boy curiously climbed out of his chair, and approached the bag. Jackson Crain, the name was inscribed onto the cover. The boy recognized that name; sometimes his grandmother referred to Grandpa like that. Before Alexander could access the pages, a scorching feeling of guilt vanquished him. His grandfather thundered above him. “Leave that alone!”

“Grandpa, I’m sorry.” The young boy pleaded, stuffing the book back into the tote bag.

“Alexander, you are never meant to open that book.” His grandpa firmly warned. “Do you understand!?” His tone was nearly yelling, and Alexander could only frightfully nod.

Years later, Alexander stood over his grandfather’s bed. The man suffered from heart disease in his old age, causing the light to dim from his once-youthful eyes. Warm tears streamed from the corners of Alexander’s eyes, to the corners of his lips.

“Don’t cry, my boy.” His grandfather comforted him, the man’s wrinkled finger swabbed Alexander’s cheek dry. “You’re 17 now, you’ve got to act tough for me, like a wizard.” He spoke.

“Wizards aren’t real, grandpa.” Alexander fought back the roaring tears. Next to the bed, stood a photograph of the two from years before; Alexander’s charcoal hair and cerulean eyes were inherited from his grandfather. “Alexander, I must speak to you, regarding my will. I’ve decided that you will receive $20,000; I trust that you will make smart decisions.” His grandfather affirmed. A nurse handed the boy a small bag containing the money, before his grandfather began to speak again. “In my bag, there is a little black book that you’d always try to read without my consent. Now that I am leaving, I entrust that book to you. It’s a heavy burden, so wield good judgment.”

“I will,” Alexander assured, embracing his grandfather’s hand in his own. It was quiet; his hand was cold. He was breathing, until he wasn’t. The grievous holter monitor began to cry along with the Crain family; dull colors had flooded into the room.

There was an odd weight about losing a loved one; even if they weren’t typically intimate. Exiting the hospital, Alexander rested his hand in his jacket pocket. In his other hand, he possessed the bag which carried the book and $20,000. Why on earth would he give me $20,000? Curiosity ingested his mind. Retrieving the little black book out of the carrier, Alexander observed the cover. Jackson Crain was still engraved on the title, the words were now faded. Undoing the elastic loop on the cover and opening the literature, the boy was met by a hand-written message.

Alexander, my boy. This magical book was once held by a powerful sorcerer, and now it belongs to you. Make wise decisions and don’t be alarmed if dragons cross your path. With love, Jackson Crain (Grandpa).

‘Don’t be alarmed if dragons cross your path.’ Alexander found himself marveling at the strange words. Unfolding the pages, he came across chapter one, Journey’s Start. The young man exited the hospital, resting his hand in his jacket pocket. In his other hand, he possessed the bag which carried the book and $20,000. Alexander compressed his eyes at the text, while his body grew tense and focused. Scratching his ear, he read in the pages, The young man scratched his ear. Reading on, the literature contained the contents of the present; what the boy was doing at that very moment, yet the ink had been dry for a long time. Continuing to read on, he came across the words, He ventured to the Neversink Forest, the territory of the magnificent wizards from the past. Folding his lips, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What if this book kills me?” He muttered to himself, before cautiously following the steps to Neversink Forest. As the woods came into view, the foggy terrain was garnished in mosses and black spruce trees. Glancing down within the pages of the little black book, he skimmed for the next line: The man willingly entered the forest. Holding his breath anxiously, Alexander stepped into the woodland. Skimming the terrain, all was silent. Light struggled to shine past the heavy tree leaves. Flipping the page in the little black book, the printed words read, And with fire in the soul of the forest, the strange figure strived to kill him. Reading the words over and over again, Alexander failed to come to a conclusion.

“Kill me..? Where?” He mumbled, skimming around the woods. Behind him, dried leaves shifted; his tense shoulders reached for his ears. Knocking him off his feet, a heavy figure shoved against him. As Alexander hit the cold ground, the trees above him began dancing and turning, and soon a woman came into perspective. After the trees had stopped spinning, he got a clear view of the lady. Her hair roared with shades of marmalade, and her eyes were green and mossy.

“Why are you here?!” The woman bellowed, threatening a rapier to his throat.

“I don’t know!” Alexander pleaded, “I came here because the book told me to!”

“The book..? What book?” Her expression softened from anger to confusion. Reaching into his coat pocket, Alexander pulled out the little black book. The woman’s face shifted to concern. “Where did you get that?!”

“My grandfather bestowed it to me before he died.” The man frantically explained.

“I don’t care who your grandfather is, but that book belongs to Jackson Crain. He called it his Contemporary Chronicles.” She jeered.

“My grandfather is Jackson Crain.” Alexander answered. The woman took a step back in shock, as Alexander proceeded to stand up.

“I see,” She started. “My name is Viatrix Owens. 8 years ago when I was 15, I trained with your grandfather to become a wizard. Your grandpa was a role-model for many, you have powerful wizardry in your blood.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I’m not a sorcerer like my grandfather was. My grandpa never mentioned anything about being a wizard. But it’s nice to meet you, I’m Alexander.” He responded, opening the little black book; The young man befriended the rogue.

A deep snarl trembled the forest.

“What was that?!” Alexander hollered, gripping onto the black book.

“The Weltschmerz, the foul creature that lurks around wizards. We killed three of them this year, they keep coming.” Viatrix started. “Follow me, I know a place we can stay until the Weltschmerz goes away.” After Alexander accepted her offer, Viatrix led him through the forest.

“You mentioned that you’re a wizard, right? Where is your wand?” Alexander wondered, observing the blonde.

“My rapier is my staff. I can fight in combat with the sword, and cast spells with the curse that was laid on it.” Viatrix explained. “Why don’t you want to be a wizard?”

“Because I don’t believe in magic. I believe in logic.” He answered.

“Your grandfather was a wizard.” She argued.

“But he never mentioned anything to me about it.” Alexander asserted. With a faint hum, Viatrix stopped in her steps. Before the two, stood a tavern in the middle of the forest, decorated with vines and aged stained glass. Upon entering the building, Viatrix presented Alexander to the guests, claiming, “I have arrived with Alexander Crain, grandson of Jackson Crain!” Among them, the tavern guests cheered with praise.

“Why are they all cheering?” Alexander inquired, glancing at his friend.

“Don’t you see? You have magic in the blood of your family line. These are wizards from all over the land.” She responded, before she departed to greet the customers. The mumbles from the wizards filled the tavern, the voices became echoed and nearly overwhelming. Yet somehow, the presence of his grandfather seemed to leave fingerprints, and there was an odd peace.

“Alexander!” Viatrix wailed, silencing the restaurant. Turning to meet her gaze, Alexander shakily approached the woman.

“Are you okay?” Alexander asked, concern possessed his tone.

“Alexander, the Weltschmerz is approaching. Please, look at your book, what does the future hold?” Viatrix hesitantly responded. Gazing into the book were the words, The beast destroyed everything. Slowly repeating the words from the book, Alexander observed as Viatrix’s hope became drained.

“This can’t be the end. We killed the other Weltschmerz yesterday, we took damage and our magic isn’t fully restored.” The ginger explained, before going on, “Alexander, you need to do it.”

“Viatrix, I’m not a wizard.” Alexander protested.

“But the potential you hold is extraordinary.” She answered. “Please, look at the book.” Turning the page, Alexander found a hand-written note from his grandfather again.

Alexander, my boy, I’m trusting that you will find this at the right time. I need you to take the next step, the sun will be guiding you. Magic boasts in your veins. Take the next step. With love, Jackson Crain (Grandpa).

Alexander sighed, before meeting his gaze at Viatrix. “Where can I get wizard equipment?” Composing a plan and leading him to the vendor, Alexander purchased a cape, along with chain armor and his wizard staff. The total cost of the equipment was printed on the receipt, $20,000.

“That’s all the money I have, my grandpa gave it to me.” Alexander explained.

“Your grandpa knew how much money you’d need, apparently.” Viatrix responded.

“He was a powerful sorcerer.” Alexander answered, before exiting the tavern, according to their plan. The Weltschmerz came into view. The beast possessed firm horns, crimson eyes and long fir. Approaching the beast, Alexander set a protective spell over himself. Charging at the boy, the Weltschmerz passed right through Alexander, as a result from the spell.

“Where are the others?” Alexander asked the beast, peering into its eyes. Behind the malicious eyes, Alexander sensed a wounded soul. “There are no others, are there?” He realized. The beast struggled to persevere. “You’re alone.” Alexander spoke. Calmly drawing near to the monster, Alexander laid his hand on the Weltschmerz’s cheek.

“You’re a broken monster. You never intended to hurt these people; you’re just hurt and alone.” Alexander observed, his voice lingering softly. “I understand. I lost my grandfather. Can I try to reunite you with your family? I promise I won’t kill you, only shift you into a dimension with your species.” With a grunt, the beast agreed. Directing his staff to the Weltschmerz, Alexander cast a shifting spell. He watched as the beast was engulfed in light, as the Weltschmerz was set free.

“Alexander, you didn’t kill it!” Viatrix ran out of the tavern.

“Of course I didn’t. You told me before that you all killed the rest of the Weltschmerz; I realized he was alone and hopeless.” Alexander explained.

“You cast a protective and shifting spell like it was nothing!” She exclaimed.

“It came naturally to me. You were right, magic flows in my blood. Surely, this is my destiny, to be a wizard and bring the monsters of the world into the light.”

Standing over his grandfather’s grave, the man knelt down before the gravestone, before opening the next chapter of the little black book, Chapter Two, The Start of A New Dream. After discovering his destiny, he pursued his new dream.

“Do I make you proud?” The young man spoke to his grandfather’s grave. The sun began to set, he stared at the stars.