Strange Normal

Unsurprisingly, the early bus was absolutely freezing and sparsely populated. The only times it came anywhere close to capacity was when sports practice was in full swing and the coaches had their teams running drills in the morning mist. That wouldn’t be for some time yet, however, so the bus was only occupied by John, a few overzealous ‘mathletes,’ and the cute goth girl he would never dare trying to strike up a conversation with in a thousand years. He might admit to being a little dense, but even he could read the very clear signs that read ‘leave me the fuck alone.”

Instead, John was kept company by the two cups in either hand. One, which he took a gratefully warming sip from, was his, a plain and simple, ordinary coffee with a little cream and sugar. The other, which cost far more than it had any reason to, was Liam’s concoction. How one discovered preferring such an excessive and specific blend was lost to him. The most John did with his coffee was adding a little vanilla, and only if he was feeling particularly adventurous that day.

There was one more thing accompanying John on the trip, however, the complicated thoughts about how exactly he was going to explain everything to Liam, and what it would all mean for the two of them. They were thoughts he was doing his best to rein in, but they refused to be wrangled so easily. Erica’s words rang in his head, forcing him to consider offering Liam the same option: forgetting everything and living a normal life. He considered it, but he didn’t like it. It felt far too hypocritical to reject her words for himself but give them to someone else.

John could see the school as the bus approached, its picturesque campus vista marred by the construction that had been going on since before he had started there. What purpose the new, unremarkably rectangular, three-story building would have was a subject of debate. The school’s administration refrained from commenting on the project beyond claiming it to be “an expansion of our school’s services to provide exciting new opportunities to our students.”

Generic answer, much?

That left the rumor mill to speculate as to the new building’s function. Some of the more popular theories had suggested there would be a new gym, a library, dormitories, a stadium, stables, a planetarium, or even a suite of state-of-the-art VR facilities. Some suggestions seemed much less likely, now that the exterior structure was mostly visible, but that did little to tamp down on the hopes of the Academy’s hopeful students. As far as John was concerned, the building would probably just be more classrooms. Whatever the case, the work was on track to finish by the start of the next semester. Until then, he really didn’t care. It was just something to occupy his thoughts.

The signature squonk of bus brakes signaled the end of John’s journey. He waited to disembark until everyone else had left, an instinct of self preservation cultivated over the years. The walk to the front doors felt bizarre. The place was usually so bright and full of life, but coming this early made the place feel hollow and abandoned in the pre-dawn gloom. John shivered and pushed his way through a front door that, unsurprisingly, no one had bothered to hold open for him.

Inside, the glories of the modern age provided a friendlier, and more importantly, warmer, environment. Even if the front lobby was sparsely populated, students and staff still passed through, and the brilliant array of fluorescent bulbs overhead filled the area with light. John set off after taking a second to let the warmth sink in, then set off for his destination, Liam’s locker, in the Science wing.

Liam was already waiting for John, leaning against the row of lockers in a failed attempt to look casual. It didn’t help that Liam looked absolutely terrible. Greasy hair fell over eyes that scanned the area erratically, framed by faded but still noticeable dark circles. His already pale skin had taken on a ghastly pallor, and he fidgeted in place as if trying to perfect his pose.

“You look like shit,” John said, extending Liam’s drink to him.

“And you don’t. What gives?” Liam snatched the coffee from John’s hands so he could hold it close and inhale the aroma. That, at least, brought Liam a brief moment of peace. “What happened to all those broken bones and third degree burns you were crying about last night? Here I am, expecting you to show up in a wheelchair, but, lo, you arrive without so much as a single crutch.”

“I got better?” John shrugged and sipped his own coffee. He realized that it was an incredibly flimsy explanation from Liam’s point of view, even if it was the truth.

“Is that the best you can do? Really?” Liam scowled.

“Look, I heal really fast, okay?” John said. “Just because I’m better now doesn’t mean all that didn’t happen to me, because it did. And let me tell you, it hurt like hell.”

“Uh huh,” Liam muttered, then sipped at his coffee. Immediately after however, he looks down at the cup with a furrowed brow and tight lips. “Shit, this is poisoned, isn’t it?”

“It’s not poisoned, dumbass.” John rolled his eyes.

“Might as well be,” Liam said, taking another sip despite his claims, “there isn’t enough half and half.”

“Why am I even friends with you?” John moaned, massaging his forehead with his free hand.

“Because I’m a motherfucking delight.” Liam nodded. “But relax, I know you’re you.”

Were he an outside observer, John would have found the irony of Liam telling him to relax hysterical. Liam could be exhausting sometimes, conspiracies notwithstanding.

“Why? Because you trust me?” John asked, hopeful that his friend had finally stopped dicking around.

“No,” Liam said, a little too flat for John’s liking. “Because you knew to come here and you brought me the right drink.” Liam grimaced. “Mostly.”

“Why does that matter?” John asked. “It’s just what you asked me to do.”

“Because obviously whatever secret society you’re working for either doesn’t or can’t monitor encrypted messages. You notice how I never mentioned any weird stuff via normal text? I switched to Lettergram when shit got real. If anyone had intercepted those messages, they would have come back and **** me again before you even got home. Seeing as that didn’t happen, I ruled our conversation was safely private.”

John had not noticed the switch because he’d yet to properly read any of Liam’s messages at all. He decided that Liam didn’t need to know that.

“Damn, you’re smarter than I give you credit for,” he said. John had to hand it to Liam, he probably wouldn’t have reasoned that out at the best of times, let alone while in a panic.

“I know.” Liam adopted a smug expression. “You’re a terrible friend.”

John rolled his eyes again.

“But how did you know I didn’t slip something into your drink, if you were worried about it?” he asked, hesitant to stir up Liam’s paranoia, but curious as to his reasoning. “Just because you know I’m me doesn’t mean I haven’t betrayed you.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Liam said, still holding the same expression. “Because I trust you.”

John was caught between feeling genuinely touched and the desire to punch his stupid friend in his stupid face.

“God, you’re such a smart ass,” John griped, despite smiling as he did so. “But you have a point about privacy, we should get out of the hallway.”

“And go where? The bathroom?” Liam recoiled in disgust. “No thanks. The only rooms unlocked this early already have people in them.”

“I think I have a solution for that. Come on,” John said.

He gestured for Liam to follow him a little further down the hallway, towards the nearest lab room. Liam shrugged and followed at a leisurely, unconvinced pace. John tested the locked door, then pulled his latest magic item from his inventory to take a good look at for the first time.

-
Skeleton Key
Item - Trinket
-Very Rare-
A simple key with a skull for a head. It was not made to open any door in particular, rather, all of them.
Unlocks most mundane locks that do not call for personal identification. This includes bypassing key pads and most card scanners, but not biometrics.
-

John turned the key over in his hand a few times. He’d pretty much expected the skull, but definitely not the words “COOL DUDE” engraved along one side of the key’s blade. More notably however, was that the key’s teeth seemed to be in flux. Any time he blinked, or took his attention off the key at all, really, the pattern of the key’s teeth changed, and not just in positioning. Sometimes the key resembled a house key or car key, but other times it had dimples on either side, or an extended bit at the end like an antique. Judging from his friend’s expression, he was experiencing the same.

“Where’d you get that?” Liam asked.

It was a gift from a questionably benevolent Goddess?

“I found it,” John said. Again, he disliked lying, but the truth would call for a lot more questions, many of which he didn’t have answers for. “In the Abyss. That’s where I’ve been. It’s, uh, kind of a catch all name for ‘The Magic Place.’ It’s kind of an intersecting reality with the normal world?” John shook his head, deeply unsatisfied with his lackluster explanation. “Look, I have a book about it. I’ll lend it to you later.”

“The lack of confidence in your understanding is as discouraging as it is unsurprising,” Liam sighed.

John’s key slid easily into the lock and turned without resistance. He swung the door open and gestured for Liam to enter while shooting him a look of offense.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, making no effort to spare the sharpness in his tone.

“It means you have an unfortunate tendency to not think things through,” Liam answered, matter of factly. He entered the lab and dropped into the nearest seat. Not wanting to draw any attention, neither of them turned on the lights, leaving the room dimly lit by only what little natural light peeked through the drawn blinds. It was a large room, necessitated by the lengthy, black-topped workstations that filled it in lieu of traditional class desks. Each sported an electrical outlet on one side, a faucet on the other, and gas valves to fuel bunsen burners. The wooden legs were conspicuously clean of any of the pen and ink graffiti that John was used to seeing.

“Unfortunate for both of us,” Liam continued. “Someone has to clean up after your messes, and it’s usually me.”

“What?” In his annoyance, John shut the door a little too loud. He groaned and locked it before stepping further into the room. Rather than take a seat, he hopped onto one of the counters ringing the room, next to the fume hood. “My plans are incredible and you know it.”

“The only thing ‘incredible’ about your plans is that they somehow work out half the time,” Liam shook his head and sipped his coffee. “The other half usually leads to me scrambling to deny the enemy team a pentakill, if I’m alive at all.”

John wanted to rebut his friend’s declaration, he even opened his mouth to do so, but he couldn’t come up with anything. In fact, the more he thought about how things had gone since he’d become a mage, the more the evidence supported Liam’s claims. John slouched, defeated.

“No comment,” he grumbled.

“I’d say that’s tantamount to admitting the truth.” Liam grinned, giving John just enough time to roll his eyes before moving on. “But enough bullshiting, let’s get down to brass tacks.”

“I suddenly don’t want to,” John groaned.

“Why not?” Liam asked.

John let out a heavy sigh.

“Because everything I’m about to tell you is going to prove you right."