The sun began to set when Kimo exited Azure Skies Suites with his backpack and rollerblades. He rolled down the road among tall junipers, picking up speed on the incline as he headed to the green spaces on the west side of the city. Purple and gold painted across the Sierra Nevada mountain range in the background, street lamps lighting up and cars beginning to shine bright headlights into his face as he raced expertly and dangerously down the streets.
The night school was the center for northwest users, buried in rock and stone along a deep mountainside set beside a massive green field cut with trickling streams. There were 4 archways along the edge of the field, made of stone painted in cool colors. As evening took hold of the town, small lights would flash through the archway, users emerging from the air as they were transported hundreds of miles in two steps.
As he approached what appeared to be a wall of rock, a small dot of light sparked on the surface and Kimo followed the light, taking a few more steps before the 8-story building was revealed. Inside, rickety stairs circled a perimeter that kept the center of the building revealing its cobweb-covered ceiling from the ground floor. Light levitated as globes in varying heights, revealing the halls and doors that stretched out from the center of the building. The halls were covered in artwork and swear words and inappropriate quotes that were constantly written over by new ones. But despite the cracked stairs and the spiderwebs that housed unnaturally large arachnids, the floors and classrooms were always swept clean by the invisible janitor—once a professor who did something to anger the principal, sentencing him to 60 years of school labor, snatching his identity and body until his sentence was served. There were rumors, but no one was confident in what he had done, and the teachers who were there 30 years ago refused to speak of it.
The levels were organized to fit the difficulty of the classes. There was no enrolment or attendance, the only assignment was an exam at the end of the term. Pass, and you receive points. Earn enough and the charmed staircase will allow you up to the next floor. Rarely do users show up for class regularly, the student population doubling on the week of exams, but Kimo enjoyed the classes and found the lectures important. He gained essential material that could not be accessed anywhere else.
There were 7 schools in total across the globe: Morbithex, Obsidianth, Abyssyl, and Atramentum were spread across Europe and Asia. Necrosynth located in northern Africa, Grimsworn in South America, and Clilmeth in North America. Morbithex and Atramentum were the largest of the 7, holding libraries the size of skyscrapers and menageries containing the most dangerous of species. Abyssyl was the smallest, located in the Karakum desert and hostile to strangers.
Kimo climbed the stairs of the school to the 4th floor. He took a seat in the back of his electrical manipulation class, swear words and spells scribbled on the desks, walls painted with bright colors, and lightbulbs twisted in strange shapes. On the ceiling were drawings of the electrical schematic symbols.
The room could hold 50 students. 14 occupied the room by the time the orange-haired professor began his lecture. Kimo put his head down and began scribbling his notes, trying to push Jonathan from his mind. His mind was becoming entangled in the lecture when Jumanah's voice echoed through his skull: I want to come with you when you go through Jonathan's stuff. His mind felt it was going into a brain freeze as he struggled with the mental connection, annoyed at the woman's telepath abilities to reach him from inside the school. Probably using a catalyst charm to amplify her abilities. I'll meet you outside his place when you're done with class. The freezing sensation left his mind before he could respond to her. He had not planned on going through his friend's stuff, but Jumanah would get into the place one way or another and he wanted to be there in case she found anything.
Kimo finished his classes at 3 am and caught the 24-hour bus that would bring him close to Jonathan's apartment. When he got off at the stop he pulled on his rollerblades, gliding down quiet streets.
Jonathan lived alone on the ground floor of an apartment building nestled on the corner of a quiet road. There was a stop sign covered in graffiti and a small bike rack with heavy chains keeping bikes in place. As he approached the building, a woman in a jogging suit passed him, pigtails swinging behind her, eyes locked ahead. He arrived at Jonathan's door where Jumanah stood wearing a black leather jacket, a cigarette in hand.
"About time," she said as she tossed the cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with her boot.
"Why the hell do you want to go through Jonathan's stuff?" Kimo asked as he reached into his pockets to grab the key.
"Though he didn't look it, he was a strange guy," she said.
"He had no shocking secrets." Kimo couldn't keep the honesty in his voice.
"No? I beg to differ."
Kimo had not visited Jonathan's place often, but it was as dirty as he had remembered it. Clothing sprawled across the floors and furniture. Empty chip bags piled in corners and an excessive number of magnets on the fridge. There was little food in the kitchen, most drawers holding tea packets and bottles of liquor. The walls were mostly bare except for a mirror over a couch in the living room. There were no photos or technology aside from a clock on the wall. There were hundreds of notebooks piled on tables and stuffed into shelves, which Jumanah moved to immediately in case there were any valuable notes or research.
As he slowly stepped about the apartment, Kimo felt his heart growing cold. There were no flowers or candles by the door, no news of his death rummaging around town. Had he made such a small impression that he and Jumanah were the only ones who knew he was gone? He took a seat on the couch and dropped his head into his hands.
"Did that boy organize anything?" Jumanah said from the kitchen, flipping through the cookbooks. "I know my psyche is chaotic but I at least form a method. Otherwise, you won't get anything done."
Kimo looked up from his hands, looking to the window beside the door where he saw the same runner pass by. He knitted his brow and looked at the coffee table in front of him where a sketchbook sat, cover worn and dirty, uneven pages piled on top of each other. A banging sound erupted from the kitchen, Jumanah pushing aside items in the bottom drawers. Her hands slowly moved across the flat surfaces of the cupboards, feeling for pockets of space where valuable things were sometimes hidden.
"What are you looking for?" Kimo asked.
"A reason why he was talking with Death!" she exclaimed. "That boy had three long conversations with that god and I want to know why."
"Who cares? Jonathan may not have had the abilities to conjure things like you and I, but he had gifted eyes that few others have ever had. That kind of vision can be valuable, and unlimited. He did not share much about the things he saw or thought, but I know a lot was going on in his head."
"There are plenty of users with gifted sight. That alone is not enough to lure a god. Who, by the way, has not shone back up at The Exspiravit since that night you two were there."
"Well, you won't find any answers here. Jonathan kept all valuable information in his head too."
A shadow panned across the wall of the apartment and Kimo saw the runner pass by the window. She stared through the glass as she passed, white eyes pupilless and ghostly. She looked away as soon as Kimo saw her, who rushed to the door before she could run out of sight.
"Wait!" he called down the street, and the woman turned, pail ponytail whipping around her head. "I think you can help me," Kimo said as he took a step toward the woman, her white eyes wide and he could not tell quite where she was looking.
"You are looking for Jonathan?" she asked.
"He was my friend."
"So he's dead then?" she asked, her voice hollow.
"Yes."
"You saw who did it?"
She's searching my thoughts, Kimo thought to himself. Hello Andi.
She backed up a step. "You're like him."
"What do you know about Jonathan?" he asked as Jumanah reached them.
Andi turned her head down the quiet street, fear beginning to creep onto her features. "We cannot talk out here." She turned around and motioned for them to follow. Jumanah's face gave away that she wasn't convinced, but Kimo followed without hesitation.
They walked down the street, cool wind coursing through trees as they turned onto a row of townhomes. Andi walked to a door and unlocked it, stepping aside to let Kimo and Jumanah in. It was a small place, but neatly kept. There was a small kitchen with a bar counter and a comfortable-looking couch and a set of flower-patterned chairs in front of a small TV. There were vintage ad posters on the walls and a record player in the corner of the living room.
Andi motioned to the couch. "Please, sit. Do either of you drink tea?"
"I'd love an Earl Grey," said Jumanah as she sat on the couch, eyes scanning the room.
"Nothing for me, thanks," said Kimo.
Andi went to the kitchen and Kimo tensed his fists and saw Jumanah doing the same—neither was good with trust. When she came back and handed Jumanah the tea she gave a small thanks and Andi settled in one of the lounge chairs.
"How did you know Jonathan?" Kimo asked.
"He was my friend…my only friend, really," said Andi as she folded her hands in her lap. "I pass by his place every day on my runs, and I would often see him sitting outside on his front porch in the mornings. He always fascinated me. Usually, I can read thoughts easily. But not with people like him…people like you two." Kimo and Jumanah looked at each other for a moment. "Users, he called himself, and others like him and you. You can block your thoughts. But I had never encountered someone like him before, and it got us talking. Soon, we talked a lot when I passed by. He told me about others and the practice of dark arts. Even though I have always had this abnormal ability, I never believed it extended further, into a world where physics can break and reality can bend." Tears began to form in her white eyes. "He was a nice boy who helped me understand myself."
"How did you know he was dead?" asked Jumanah.
"I had a dream about him."
"Are you a foresight?"
"No…or, I don't think so. It's the only time it has ever happened but…" Andi was wringing her fingers, hands twisting in what looked like uncomfortable angles. "I was walking down a hallway of a house I'd never been in before. The walls were lime green, only one light hanging above me, and at the end of the hall was an open window. When I reached it I looked down and saw Jonathan walking down the street. I tried to call out to him but it was like my voice box had been ripped from my throat. I could do nothing but watch as he walked down the pavement. He looked like he was a zombie, moving in a swaying motion, eyes blank, a beam of light in the centers that made him look like a mindless moth fluttering to a single flame. I could not see what he was walking towards or where the light was coming from, only a black fog that began to cover the street. And then he stopped and looked right at me. The mindless light was gone from his eyes, but the fear that took its place was worse. He was so scared of something that had to happen. Something he could do nothing about. I shook my head and tried to tell him to stop and run away. But then he looked away from me, the zombified state returning, and he walked into the fog. I could begin to see his skin boil, heard him begin to scream, and then I woke up."
Kimo and Jumanah were staring at Andi with stone expressions. She was not holding her thoughts back and both could get a glimpse into what she had seen, the memory rolling on a film in her head. They saw what Andi had described, and they were both trying to make sense of it.
"What do you think it means?" Andi asked when she was finished.
"In reality, that fog had a more physical form," said Kimo.
"You saw?" Andi asked in a frightened voice.
Kimo nodded.
"I think he sent that dream to you," said Jumanah. "Like as a message."
"A message? To whom?" asked Andi.
"Us?" she said with a shrug. "You? Anyone, really. Maybe he was desperate when he reached out, and for some reason, you were the only person he grabbed onto. He just needed someone to see what was happening."
Kimo nodded in agreement but tried to hold back the jealousy. He was surprised by the spike of an unfriendly emotion that he did not often have, but he could not ignore it. Why would Jonathan reach out to Andi? She was someone who could barely understand what she was seeing. Why didn't Jonathan reach out to him? Why had he told him nothing of this? Kimo wanted to believe he would have been able to do something to help. Something to save Jonathan from fate. But perhaps that was the reason he had ignored him. He knew Kimo would do something, jump to action despite having little to no idea what was needed to be done. He thought back to the tall man—tall monster—and knew he possessed power that would have flattened Kimo's abilities. But that realization did not do much to soothe his guilt and sorrow. When he looked into Andi's memory, he could not just see what she had but felt the emotions that came with it. He could feel Jonathan's fear and despair as he died alone.
Jumanah was about to ask Andi more questions when Kimo pushed to his feet and walked out of the apartment. The women watched him go. For a moment, Andi got up to follow but Jumanah pulled her back down, reading the turmoil on Kimo's expression.
"Is there anything more you can tell us?" Jumanah asked Andi. "I'll admit my motives about all this are mostly selfish, but Kimo wants to avenge him."
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I know anything more that can be of use." Jumanah nodded and stood, thanking Andi for her time. "If you find him," she suddenly before Jumanah was out the door, "make him suffer."
Jumanah smiled and nodded.