The Ackscha Project

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Chapter 1

Primal

Figure 2.a.9 - A burnt tree in Bakersfield Park, found and photographed by workers the day after ignition.


“So how ‘bout it? Good deal?”

“Uhh…I’m not sure-”

Adam interrupted, “oh, c’mon! This is the offer of a lifetime, man!”

Glade blinked somewhat consciously to avoid his gaze just for a moment.

“Well I don’t wanna be mean, but it’s fifty dollars,” Glade cautiously replied.

Adam countered, “and that’s fifty more bucks you’ll have for like what, two hours of work for ya, tops? More than minimum wage!”

Glade winced at his surprisingly accurate estimation of man-hours. However, he tried to keep his defenses up.

“Okay, the money is good, but I’m just a bit worried about-”

Adam cut him off again. Was he just that assertive or was Glade really that meek?

“So the academic dishonesty? It’s fine, dude,” he assured, putting a stretch on the word “fine”.

“No one but us will know, right? And it’s not like you’re going to college, right? Even if they find out, you won’t get in trouble.”

Glade was concerned at Adam’s unusual level of reasoning. In the few classes that they shared together, he had never demonstrated much of a grasp on logic or language, outside of banter.

Logically sound or not, though, Glade didn’t want to involve himself with this. He didn’t know how to properly rationalize it, but it just wouldn’t feel right. And…

There’s something wrong here, Glade thought.

“Why are you asking me?”

Adam had a very slight look of surprise. “Huh?”

“We were just classmates, and not even in like, English, or anything. I mean, the only writing you ever saw was for our group project,” Glade decided to leave out the fact that he was the only one writing anything down in their chemistry class, “why ask me to write an essay? For something important like admissions?”

“Oh, I see where you’re coming from. But, like, I saw that your essay got posted online by the school. Apparently they liked it, so I figured you were a pretty good writer, right?”

Oh. They did do that. Glade remembered the awkward congratulations he received (awkward in the sense that no one, including Glade, knew him for being a writer).

They didn’t even ask for permission…

Glade tried to collect his thoughts. His eyes strayed from Adam’s smug face to the trees encircling the park around them. If he were here for different reasons, it’d be relaxing as a little getaway from the otherwise noisy town.

Right now, it felt like a coffin. Nobody else was around, as it was already past official park hours - from what Glade had heard, the park staffers didn’t want to pay extra for the longer hours.

And of course, they were in the one area that nobody liked. Off the path by a little, and featuring zero seating or tables.

“Yo.”

Adam. Seemed like a nice albeit daft guy. He seemed trustworthy, and he was usually fun to talk to in class. He was in wrestling, wasn’t he?

Glade flickered his eyes, readjusting his view to meet Adam’s face.

He prepared his response.

Okay, just say no.

“Yeah-I-uh-just”, Glade suddenly blurted out. Adam smirked a little.

“I-I…I don’t wanna do it. Sorry. Uh, I’m gonna go, since my dad is making dinner by now.”

That last part was probably a lie, but it should serve its purpose well enough. Glade stepped back a bit and turned towards the dirt road exit, only to feel a hard grip on his wrist.

“Yo, c’mon, don’t be like that,” Adam said in an unconvincing tone.

“I can give you more, if you want. But you need to do this for me. Just think of it as a favor. I’ll give you more than money, bro.”

Glade recoiled at hearing him deliver that “bro”. It made him feel bold enough to assert himself a little.

“Please don’t touch me.”

Adam kept his smirk, but the connotations of it felt much more sinister now. Like a mask was slipping to reveal the same person in a different light.

“I’ll fuckin’ touch you if I want. Just write the essay, and I’ll give you your fifty. Easy way out.”

The calm and collected facade that Glade was barely holding onto was now entirely gone. He wasn’t just rushing through his thoughts, but he could feel the physical illness of the anxiety, the heart sinking down to his stomach. Not to mention the tight grip that Adam had on him, it wasn’t just painful, but nauseating - the feeling was stomach-churning.

“I, “ Glade tried to force out, cracking his voice in the process.

“We have a deal. $50. Tell the academy why I’m so interested in magic. 1200 words. By 6 P.M. on Monday. Meet me here at the same time.”

Glade couldn’t afford to make eye contact at this point. The spark of assertion he could muster was all but gone.

Adam took notice of his stance. He rethought his approach.

“Listen dude, I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re really nice and smart,” he said in his most faux-hospitable tone possible.

“I don’t have anything against you. I just need you to work with me here.”

The words did not have their intended effect. Glade struggled, he wanted to break free, assert himself, strategize, do anything, but he just froze in place, heart refusing to beat normally. Tears swelled up in his eyes.

Adam offered the closing deal.

“I’ll let you go if you agree, alright?”, he said in a genuine tone, as if he truly believed that he was in the right.

Glade tried his hardest to collect himself and breathe regularly.

Okay, just say yes.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, preparing himself.

“No-”

Whatever Glade tried to say afterwards was removed from his mouth by a heavy slap to the face. Adam released his grip so that he could feel the full weight of it and knock him to the ground, with one hand and leg propping him up. After the initial impact, the sting of it remained on his face for a while.

Adam changed his tone. “Alright. I think I made myself clear. Just do it, and we’ll be all good,” the rage hiding behind gritted teeth.

Glade, for the first time in this interaction, felt somewhat calm. Perhaps the shock of the slap had given him enough adrenaline to at least come up with a plan.

He carefully considered his options:

Adam interjected Glade’s strategy meeting for a moment.

“And just so you know, my dad’s a cop. And it’s not like anyone’s around right now.”

A kick to the stomach ruined his breathing, and sent him almost flat to the ground. He chose to keep his eyes locked on Adam.

The adrenaline rush had both hyped up and emboldened Glade as well as calmed him down, as if he was fully in control of the situation, somehow. The nervous thoughts couldn’t make their way to the front of his mind. All he could see was what was right in front of him: an acquaintance who was trying to take advantage of him.

And…sparks. Adam’s fingertips were shown off in front of him, with small bolts shooting between them. They briefly illuminated his face, like a flickering light.

“Did you know I was in the magic club? I guess you wouldn’t know, that’s not your thing, huh?”

It’s true, Glade had seen local news reporting on his impressive performances at state contests.

“So, you still wanna say no?” The hospitable tone was completely gone by now.

“No…”

Adam cautiously grinned, although he realized it’d be best to clarify.

“Wait, so like, ‘no’ as in ‘no, I don’t wanna say no’, or-”

“I’m saying no.”

In half a second, Glade jumped up from his spot to grab Adam’s shoulder as support, then brought the palm of his other hand to Adam’s chest. The air around the palm rushed around it, like pushing against a strong wind. The opposite reaction of the force resulted in Adam being knocked about twenty feet away. The amount of work that it required almost sprained Glade’s wrist.

Adam readjusted to his surroundings, and slowly got up from the ground with a shocked look on his face. Glade, somewhat relieved that he was conscious, kept eye contact with him. The height difference was negligible from this distance.

Although, that distance rapidly decreased as Adam sprinted towards Glade, who narrowly dodged out of the way. The sparks that flew past him made the hair on his arms stand straight for a moment.

“You takin’ some fuckin’ steroids or something? That shit you did wasn’t normal.”

Glade didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. He stayed silent while facing him.

“It’s like…primal magic or something. You’re like a caveman, bro!” Adam laughed hysterically from his own adrenaline rush. He took another step forward. Glade prepared himself.

The next sprint was even faster, coming towards Glade at a normally inhuman speed. He stepped to the side and turned around to face Adam again. As he predicted, he came towards him again. One more dodge, and one more close call with electricity striking the ground instead of Glade’s heart.

Another turn, and Adam ran at a curve towards him again, pushing Glade further back towards the trees. At the end of his arc, something shot out from the light source that his body was producing. About the size of a bullet, it shot towards Glade at a ridiculous speed.

He dodged on instinct, but took a small hole to his t-shirt sleeve in the process. Passing through the cloth, the bolt instead hit a tree behind him, igniting a surprisingly large fire in the process. More concerning than previous actions, but Glade’s adrenaline high hadn’t worn off yet.

Focusing his energy into his palms, he tried to take hold of the flames that were bursting out of the wood. The embers barely made their way onto his hands, but Glade carried them successfully and turned to face Adam again.

Adam smirked, almost seeming impressed with his abilities, but he quickly made his way forward again.

Glade focused onto his palms again, trying to control the flames naturally. As more oxygen was funneled into them, they grew in size, eventually enveloping Glade. The temperature of it stung and made him sweat rapidly.

As Adam pushed closer to the heat, the fire suddenly shot away from Glade in all directions, pushing Adam down and igniting many other trees in the process. The orange blaze was now more prominent than ever, overpowering the previously dark scenery. In the center of it was Glade, suddenly looking exhausted.

Adam grinned and took his chance. As the large lightning-humanoid shape came towards Glade, he exhaled and closed his eyes, bracing himself.

And then the wind came. He felt a breeze like a tropical storm make its way through his hair for just a moment, but then nothing. He opened his eyes.

On the ground, several feet away from him, was Adam, most definitely unconscious now. He laid limp on the ground. That was strange, but what was even stranger was…

The trees?

The previously chaotic scene in the forest was now back to as it once was, a mostly dark, green park (now featuring a few charred trees).

Glade felt the adrenaline completely leave his body, only to be replaced with exhaustion. He did use up a lot of energy, but could he truly have done something as powerful as this?

His answer came when he heard a voice from behind.

“Oh, hi there.”

Glade jumped and turned to look at the mysterious figure.

The figure relaxedly addressed Glade. “Whoops, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

He was a tall man, dressed in a light black jacket with grey jeans. He stood out a bit due to his metallic grey hair and stormy eyes. He looked mature, but still a bit young.

Glade remained as cautious as he could despite his extreme tiredness.

“Uh, who are you?”

“Oh, yep. Should’ve started with that. I’m Dr. Auster - or uh-”, the man struggled, as if he had a slip of tongue.

He recomposed himself quickly. “Wynd - like ‘wind’ with a ‘y’. Dumb, right?”

Glade blinked a few times while facing Wynd. The tone was hospitable, but that wasn’t reason enough to get cozy.

“Did you uh,” Glade looked around the park again to confirm his reality.

Wynd took notice. “Oh, yeah. Well, it seemed like you needed some help, so I figured I should lend a hand.”

“So, he…” Glade glanced at Adam’s body on the ground.

“Yep, knocked the wind out of him. He’s not dead, don’t worry,” Wynd stated genuinely.

Glade was relieved, although there was the other matter of…

“And the trees?”

Wynd grinned, looking proud of himself.

“You know fires need oxygen to burn, right? Well, if you take away the oxygen, there’s no more fire.”

Glade’s knowledge of magic feats was limited, but he knew enough to know how impressive that was. Being able to take away enough oxygen from an area that large in such a short amount of time is something only a top-ranking magician could do. More than anything, he did not want Wynd as an enemy.

“So, why are you here?” Glade reduced his cautious demeanor.

“Hm? I was just walking through, that’s all.”

For some reason, Glade couldn’t believe that.

“You’re Glade, right? I actually gotta be at your house tomorrow morning.”

Glade’s eyes went wide open at those statements.

“I’m not a cop, though. I’m just gonna advertise something to you. A deal to make. Oh, not like the one that guy was making with you, though.”

Glade recoiled back in further shock.

“What?! How long have you been here?”

Wynd kept a smile. “Ah, who’s to say? Anyways, you should prolly get goin’ for now.”

With how tired he was, Glade wouldn’t have much choice either way. Strangely, he felt he could trust this man, too. For the most part.

“What about Adam?”

“Who?” Wynd noticed Glade’s gaze being directed at the high school graduate on the ground.

“Oh, him. He’ll come to, eventually. I can sort things out with him, I think.”

A little ominous, but at least he’s not a threat. Glade was too tired to worry that much, anyways.

Glade awkwardly turned towards the exit. “Well, I uh…”

“Tomorrow morning! Don’t be late!”

Glade was tempted to ask why he would be late at his own house, but decided to just move on.

“Alright, thank you for the help.” He offers a slight wave as goodbye.

“Don’t mention it.” Wynd returns the wave more excitedly.

Glade made his way out of the park and safely returned to the neighborhood streets, finally on his way home. He was still exhausted, but he did have one question that persisted throughout.

A deal?

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