In just two months Oberon under the guise of Lucas was handed over to the Sawyers; Jaia and Kray. The process went by faster than it should of. Oberon is now Lucas Sawyer. During the whole procedure, Lucas didn't meet Mr. Nox.
Oberon spent his time in a foster home during the process. It was hard for him, during his time there he didn't use his powers—sort of, he used it to prevent people's senses from detecting the severed hand he's carrying around; whenever it broke down placing it in soil mended it. Each person he met were blank canvases that he had to fill through physical interactions. It was an odd but welcomed experience. He has to get use to it if he wants to enter normal society.
The time in the foster home was anxiety inducing. He waited for Father's appearance to surface. He never showed. His transfer to the Sawyers proceeded smoothly.
With the charm of coincidence Lucas arrived in Kequila in the midst of summer. After the two months schools open their doors once more.
"Ow!" Lucas exclaims as Jaia combs his hair.
Jaia can't help but chuckle. "The outcome will be worth it. You also have nice, curly hair. Difficult, nice, curly hair. There I'm done combing it out."
"So we're done?"
Jaia smiles at him. "I'm sorry little one. We're far from done."
Lucas is subject to combs, hair products and heat from a blow-dryer. Jaia positions Lucas before a mirror.
"Like it?" She inquires. She hopes he likes it.
Lucas nods, examining the plaits in his hair. He shakes his head and the plaits sway from the motion. He giggles. "I love it."
"Really?" Jaia releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. "We could try other hairstyles in the future."
"Wait...what do you mean different hairstyles? What's wrong with this one?"
"Nothing. It's just you have to loose it out after awhile then put it in something else."
Lucas grimaces. "So battle with those," he gestures to the hair supplies, "will be constant?"
Jaia ties a durag onto his head. "A battle you will lose every time. Come let's get you ready for bed."
Jaia guides Lucas to his room. He gets into bed and she rolls the covers over him. She kisses his forehead.
"Ready for your day at school tomorrow?" Jaia asks, petting Lucas' head.
"Yeah. I'm excited," he replies, beaming with a smile.
"That's great, I hated school; I was an anxious kid. So, do you remember anything as of yet?" Jaia pries.
The smile on Lucas face fades and he shakes his head. "Still foggy."
Jaia doesn't push it. She wants to, but she won't. She's just curious. How did Lucas end up at Cauldron Fall? He can't remember anything, however, there's nothing wrong with him in that department. They took him to a hospital; the doctors found no head trauma or any abnormalities in the MRIs. Well, there was an abnormality, something the doctor couldn't explain; the doctor wrote it off as a minor error. The doctor also believes that Lucas knows where he's from but due to trauma doesn't want to talk about it.
Whenever she presses Lucas on the topic—always in a gentle manner—he gets defensive. For a ten year old, he knows how to control a conversation. Kray has a joke that Lucas is a future politician.
"It's okay," she says, pinching his cheek. "Good night." She kisses him on the forehead once more and leaves the room.
Lucas sits up against his bedframe. He presses fingers on the bridge of his nose. He's at a dilemma ever since the check-up exposed him. Now Kray and Jaia thinks he's a child from a broken home. In a way, they're not wrong, but they ain't right. Father acted like a machine, but he wasn't cruel. He taught them a lot, kept them fed. On the other hand he did have Lucas kill someone shortly before his escape. Then there's the sparring. Perhaps it was a bit broken.
They keep prying, Lucas has managed to curve them. It's getting tiring now. Should he come up with a story or should he use his powers to formulate a solution. Lucas releases an exaggerated sigh. He settle backs into bed; turning on his side and falling to sleep.
The next day arrives. Lucas is an early bird, waking up before Jaia and Kray. Even the sun is just crawling over the horizon. Lucas exits the house to sit on the edge of the cliff. He finds the sun to be aspiring. The beautiful cascade of colors it emits as it raises to erase the land of darkness is memorizing. Could hardly believe that orb of beauty in a few hours will be a pain in the ass as it attempts to cook you alive. Lucas sits there, not counting the time passing by.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Kray questions, causing Lucas to jolt. He forgets how easy it is to startle the boy. "I didn't mean to scare you." He heads over to Lucas, holding the startled boy to ensure he doesn't fall.
Lucas misses the days he'd use his powers to monitor people. "It's okay. It is beautiful."
"When I was a wee lad about your age, my pop was a fisherman. In the early mornings he'd take me out with him. Watching the sun raise while being on the sea, nothing could compare."
The two enjoy the sun together. They head inside to meet Jaia in the kitchen staring at the stove. As if gaze alone will operate it. She generally didn't look like herself. Jaia normally shines as bright as the sun. Right now she's as dull as dusk.
"She's not a morning person," Kray comments with a laugh. He lifts her up. "Morning darling."
Jaia doesn't resist. She reminds still, as if her muscles are still asleep. She just groans in response.
"It's okay," he tells her. He plops her on a stool at the kitchen island. "I'll get to making breakfast. She doesn't turn on until I fill her up." He pauses and breaks into laughter.
Lucas face screws up in confusion. "What's funny?"
Jaia eyes pierce through Kray. He gives a sheepish laugh.
"Don't worry about it. Just a silly thought," Kray says, laughing softly to himself.
When Kray starts cooking, he doesn't think much of it. Father used to cook for everyone. In fact, before he started MTI he thought only males could cook. A simple, funny child thought that got discarded the moment he started MTI.
Breakfast is shared out; toasts, grilled tomatoes, baked beans, bacon, sausage, fried eggs, and mushrooms. Lucas stares at the mass plate before him. He's expected to eat all of this.
"Too much?" Kray questions, seeing Lucas being intimidated by the meal before him. "Breakfast is important where I'm from. Eat up."
Lucas ganders at the food parade one last time before digging in with mannerly restrictions.
Lucas tries to say it's delicious but his mouth is full. So a congregation of distorted words exit his occupied mouth.
Kray tries to accept the compliment but his mouth is full. Leading to more nonsensical sounds. Honestly, it was a miracle that he understood Lucas.
"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Jaia commands. Despite her juggernaut warning. Jaia takes a photo of the two. "You'll choke like that!" She smiles at the photo on her phone as she yells at her husband and now son about the dangers of eating with your mouth full.
After breakfast Lucas takes a shower and is dressed in his school's uniform. They're leaving a bit early, Lucas has to take a placement test to determine whether he could go in grade four or five.
Kray drives Lucas to school in his personal truck.
"Lucas. Kids could be mean sometimes, so if anyone tries to take advantage of you let an adult know. If they don't do anything, come home and let us know. And if they ever cross a line you don't like, you have our permission to 'correct' them. Understood?"
Lucas hears him, his nod has a delay. He realizes that Kray isn't giving him permission to summon a swarm of mystical, carnivorous mouths to consume those that offend him.
Kray arrives to the school; Bethal Primary. Kray helps Lucas out of the truck. Leading him to the principle office. Lucas pauses every now and again to examine the halls. Gazing around; almost starstuck.
The pair arrive to the principle office. He's a short, bald, chubby man. With a pointy nose. Nevertheless, he pulls off a mean suit.
"Welcome," he greets them. "Have a seat. I'm Mr. Emperor."
Kray takes a seat. "He's doing the test in here?"
Mr. Emperor nods. "It'll take him a half an hour at best. And then we'll know if we should place him in the fourth or the fifth grade. If we had his prior education, this could of been decided that way."
Mr. Emperor hands the test to Lucas; who already has a pencil in hand. The test consist of three papers, stapled together.
Scribble, scribble; echoes through the room. Lucas is skating through the test. In a matter of moments he hands the test back to the principle. Who laughs.
"Such spirit. But you should overlook your work," the principle says, gently pushing the test back to Lucas.
"..." Lucas sketches on the back of the test which is blank. Once his mediocre sketch of a dog is finish, he hands his test to Mr. Emperor. Who shrugs.
The man goes through the test and went through the five stages of grief as he shuffle through the three pages.
"Is something wrong?" Kray questions. His words at Mr. Emperor but his eyes on Lucas.
"No. Quite the opposite. Everything on this is correct. I think he's more than fit for the fifth grade. Excuse me, I have to sort a few things out."
Mr. Emperor leaves the room.
"You were pretty good at that," Kray praises him, patting him on the head. "I'm not going to pry because I can tell you're a good kid. Whenever you feel comfortable you can tell us."
"Thank you. I don't mean to be secretive. But, I want this life..."
"And not the one you left behind? Hmm, you've got an old soul."
"What does that mean?"
Kray huffs and rolls his eyes. "Don't get coy with me. You know what that means. You little spark." Kray pats Lucas' head again. "I hope you have a good day at school."
"Me too," Lucas replies. Through the power of pats, he's confident he'll conquer the day.
The principal returns. "Thank you for waiting. I'll introduce you to your teacher. Come with me."
Lucas gets up and follows the principal. He waves Kray farewell.
Kray waves back and chuckles. "Till I fill her up," he whispers to himself. Now laughing in remembrance.
Mr. Emperor leads Lucas to his classroom. Inside is a tall, muscular woman, in a suit; full blown tuxedo. Her face is clear, perhaps smooth as well. Her dark hair is long, reaching the middle of her back. And her blue eyes shine shadow after pistol stars.
"This is—"
"I'm Mrs. Meleno," she introduces herself. Her accent Troxian (my world's equivalent to French) rich; however she pronounces her words like any other English speaker. "And you are?"
Lucas extends his hand. "Lucas Sawyer."
Mrs. Meleno shakes his hand. "Would you like to see a magic trick?" she offers.
Lucas nods.
Mrs. Meleno hand goes behind Lucas' ear and pulls out a coin. "Ta-dah!" she exclaims.
"That coin came from your wrist," Lucas says, rolling his eyes. "I saw the execution, it was kind of sloppy."
"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Meleno says, with a coy smile. "How do you like the rose?" She gestures to the rose sprouting from her tuxedo's breast pocket.
Lucas stares at her in utter shock. He couldn't believe it. She's a sorcerer of the highest order. That rose wasn't there before. When did she have time to apply it? Is this the mystical art of misdirection?
Lucas smiles. "It's a nice rose."
Mrs. Meleno beams back. "Glad you like it."
Mr. Emperor leaves Lucas in the care of Mrs. Meleno. Who has Lucas introduce himself to the class when class started. Lucas finds the subjects they're covering to be mundane. He had long covered the topics presented. Regardless, the environment is enjoyable.
It's now recess. Lucas examines the area around him as he mildly swings on the swing. There's children being children. Perhaps he should join them. Something catches his eyes. He's not the only one playing spectator. A sulking blond kid in his lonesome spectates from the roof of the slide. His head is tuck between his knees. It looks like he's crying.
Lucas could care less. What baffles him is just one factor. How the hell did he get on the roof of the slide?
There are some kids playing an odd game. It involves throwing pebbles at one another then dodging the pebbles. A rogue rock fires at the misfit on the roof of the slide. It's set right for his head. The rock trajectory changes abnormally, avoiding the sobbing child. A new problem spawns. It's now coming towards Lucas!
Lucas sharp reflexes jolt into action. Lucas catches the rock, tossing it away.
"Sorry!" one of the kids yell out.
"It's okay!" Lucas replies.
That wasn't normal. That thought cruise through Lucas' mind. Someone saved that kid. His face was buried in his knees and he's crying to boot. He didn't even see the rock. Lucas looks around the playground. Someone here is an Esper