Discerning The Transmundane

The night wore on, and the Salvatore Boarding School stood like a fortress against the fog, its lights glowing warmly in contrast to the chilly air outside. Inside, the great hall remained bustling with students and staff, all abuzz with the latest topic of intrigue: their mysterious guest. Hope had never seen the school so animated, whispers filling the air like the flutter of wings. The rumors flitted from one group to another, each more exaggerated than the last, as students speculated about the man with no memory, a celestial being, a deceiving dark lord, an ancient warrior, or perhaps a ghost seeking redemption.

Hope slipped quietly through the corridors, her heart thrumming with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She pushed open the heavy wooden door to the guest room, a flicker of warmth radiating from the fireplace illuminating the otherwise dim space. There he sat, the man who had intruded upon their lives like a ghost, a tall figure cloaked in shadows, his face etched with lines of confusion and contemplation. His intense gaze was fixed on the flickering flames, as though he sought answers in their dance, scouring the depths of his mind for memories that remained stubbornly out of reach.

"Hey," she said softly, drawing his attention.

He looked up, his brilliant eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, something passed between them, a connection, a recognition of their shared strangeness. Hope noticed how the firelight played upon his features, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw and the faint stubble that hinted at a rugged handsomeness. There was something otherworldly about him, an aura of power and mystery that both intrigued and unsettled her.

"Hope," he replied, his voice low and gravelly, as if he had been speaking to the fire rather than to her. "Thank you for taking me in."

She offered a small smile, feeling the weight of her own emotions shift slightly. "It's what we do here. It's… complicated."

"Complicated is an understatement," he replied, a hint of self-deprecating humor in his tone. "I must be quite the disturbance."

"You have no idea," she said playfully, though her heart wasn't fully in it. "You've got the entire school talking. Even I'm baffled, and that's saying something."

A soft chuckle escaped him, but it quickly faded as he resumed his stare into the flames. There was an intensity to his gaze, as though he were trying to unravel the secrets of the universe. Hope felt a pull towards him, a strange yearning to understand the depths of his existence, to help him uncover the mysteries that plagued him.

"Can I…?" She hesitated, then continued. "Can I try something?"

His eyes flickered toward her, curiosity piqued. "Explain"

"A small spell," she clarified. "It might help us figure out what you are, what you're capable of. I mean, besides being the talk of the school."

He raised an eyebrow, a mixture of skepticism and intrigue crossing his features. "A spell?"

"Just a simple one," she assured him, her own pulse quickening at the thought. "I'll hold your hand. We can delve into magic, and it tells us what we want to know. I promise it won't hurt."

With a nod, he extended his hand across the space between them. Hope took it, her delicate fingers intertwining with his that felt experienced, as though he had brandished tools or weapons for many years. A electric spark danced between them. She settled into her seat, positioning herself directly across from him, their knees nearly touching.

"Close your eyes," she instructed softly. "Breathe in deeply."

They shared a breath, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken questions. Hope felt the energy swirling around them, a current that seemed to respond to their proximity. She focused her mind, centering her thoughts on the spell she'd learned long ago, a technique to peel back the layers of memory and identity. The incantation whispered from her lips in Latin, the cadence of the ancient language wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

"Dux ex obscuris, revela veritatem," she began, her voice steady and confident. "Suscita memoriam, ad astra sursum. Adiutor mihi, et fluit et veritas manifesta sit."

As she spoke, the fire flared brightly, casting long shadows that flickered around theirs across the walls. She felt the warmth of his hand, a solid presence amidst the swirling energy. Hope's heart raced as she chanted, the rhythm of the words resonating with the pulse of magic that thrummed through the air.

For a moment, nothing happened. She concentrated harder, pouring her intent into the spell, willing it to bridge the gap between their worlds. And then, just for a heartbeat, she caught a glimpse of something beyond the veil of consciousness. Black, bird-like wings white hints unfurled, vast and powerful, shimmering like the night sky. She felt the rush of air as if a storm had swept through the room, tugging at her very being.

But in an instant, the fire beside them died out, plunging the room into darkness. Hope gasped, the sudden chill wrapping around them like a cloak. The shadows deepened, and she felt a powerful energy pulse through the air, heavy and electric. The stillness was deafening.

Before she could react, a violent shattering echoed through the room. Every piece of glass, mirrors, windows, cabinets, exploded outward into fine dust, scattering across the floor like sand. Jumping to his feet, he instinctively shielded her from the fine cloud with his body. Some struck his back, but he remained visibly unfazed as it poured off him into a small pile at his feet as he remained visibly unfazed. 

"What just happened?" she exclaimed, panic creeping into her voice.

The dust settled around them, glittering ominously as it formed a strange pattern on the floor, a script that twisted and curled in ways she had never seen before. It looked like a language she didn't recognize, each glyph pulsating with a strange, otherworldly light.

The man beside her remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the dust as it swirled around them. Hope's heart raced, a mix of excitement and fear flooding her senses. "What did I do?" she breathed, bewildered.

"I am unsure," he replied, his voice low and reverberating with a strange power. He leaned closer, peering at the glyphs. "But it feels… familiar."

Hope swallowed hard, her mind racing. The spell had triggered something, revealing a truth that lay buried within him. But what did it mean? She studied the symbols as they glowed softly in the darkness, their meaning tantalizingly out of reach.

"Can you understand it?" she asked, urgency creeping into her tone.

He shook his head slowly, as if grappling with the words that danced at the edges of his consciousness. "I can feel it, but it's like trying to grasp smoke. It slips through my fingers."

Hope felt a swell of determination rise within her. "We can figure this out together," she promised, squeezing his hand tightly. "We just need to concentrate."

As she spoke, she could sense the connection between them, a bond forged by their shared experience. The mysterious man was not just an anomaly, he was a part of something larger, something that resonated with the very fabric of her existence.

Together, they focused on the glowing symbols, hope flickering in her heart as they prepared to unravel the secrets of the universe woven into the dust that now surrounded them.

Some time later.

The School stood shrouded in the cool embrace of the night, its sprawling grounds a blend of shadows and moonlight. Inside, a small crowd of students had gathered near the door to the guest room, their murmurs rising and falling like a restless tide. Alaric Saltzman moved through them with a commanding presence, his expression shifting from concern to curiosity as he surveyed the scene.

"Okay, everyone, back up," he said, raising a hand to disperse the students who were eager for a glimpse of the newcomer. "There's nothing to see here people. Just a little excitement, nothing we can't handle."

As the students reluctantly backed away, Alaric felt the cool night air seep in through the glassless window, a sharp reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. He stepped inside the room, his eyes landing on the sight before him: shards of glass littering the floor, the remnants of shattered mirrors and windows, and the glowing script that writhed like a living thing in the dust.

"Wow, talk about a dramatic entrance," Lizzie quipped, stepping up beside him. Her blonde hair, shining in the dim light, framed her face as she surveyed the scene with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Is this the new trend in interior design? Because I'm not sure I'm feeling it."

Her humor cut through the tension in the room, a welcome distraction from the weight of uncertainty that hung heavy in the air. She stepped cautiously toward the glowing glyphs, her fingers brushing against the scattered dust as though trying to decipher the messages hidden within.

"Careful, Lizzie," Alaric warned, his tone serious. "We don't know what this means yet."

Josie, the quieter of Alaric's two daughters, stepped forward as well. With her brown hair falling into her eyes, she greeted the man seated across the room. "Hi there," she said softly, her voice laced with genuine warmth. "I'm Josie. Glad to make your acquittance. 

The man turned his gaze to her, a flicker of recognition lighting his eyes. "A pleasure," he replied, the weight of his confusion still evident.

Josie nodded, her empathy drawing her closer to him. "We're all a little lost sometimes. You're not alone."

Alaric observed the exchange, his heart swelling with pride for his daughters. They were both so different yet equally compassionate. "Alright, ladies," he interjected, drawing their attention. "Let's regroup and get to the bottom of this. Hope? Can you fill me in on what you discovered?"

Hope had been standing slightly apart, her brow furrowed in thought. She stepped forward, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders. "I tried a spell to tap into his memories," she explained, her voice steady. "It revealed something, wings, dark and powerful, but then everything just… exploded."

"Exploded?" Alaric repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds a bit dramatic."

"I'm serious!" Hope insisted, her frustration creeping into her tone. "The fire went out, and the glass shattered everywhere. There was a surge of energy. I felt something, something ancient and… and wild."

"Wild?" Lizzie echoed, her interest piqued. "Sounds like my last date."

Hope shot her a look, but the corner of her mouth quirked up slightly. "Not that kind of wild. More like untamed magic, something I've never encountered before. And then there were the symbols!" she gestured to the glowing glyphs on the floor. "They were unlike anything I've ever seen."

"Let's not begin jumping to conclusions," Alaric said, his mind racing with possibilities. "We need to consult someone who knows more about ancient languages. Dorian would be a good place to start. He's an expert in history and supernatural lore. Let's see if he can decipher what this means."

As he spoke, the man sat silently, still absorbing the conversation and the strangeness of the world around him. Hope caught his eye, a flash of concern flickering in her chest. "I'm sorry this is all happening so fast," she said gently. "We're just trying to figure out how to help you."

He nodded, gratitude shining through the confusion that lingered in his gaze. "I am thankful, truly!" he murmured, the weight of his predicament still heavy upon him.

Alaric stepped out of the room, motioning for Lizzie and Josie to follow. "Stay close. We'll need to make sure the other students are safe and that we're not dealing with something dangerous."

As they made their way through the halls, the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty. Students whispered amongst themselves, their eyes glancing toward Alaric and his daughters as they passed. The tension was palpable, and Alaric felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. He had always been the protector, the one to keep the peace at the school, and now, the unexpected arrival of this mysterious man had shaken everything.

Dorian was in his office, surrounded by stacks of books and ancient scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink, a comforting aroma that Alaric welcomed as they entered. Dorian looked up, his eyebrows arching in surprise at the sight of Alaric and the girls.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

"We have a situation," Alaric replied, guiding him toward the door of the guest room. "You might want to see this for yourself."

They stepped inside, the atmosphere shifting as they reentered the room where the glyphs glimmered ominously on the floor. Dorian moved closer, his expression shifting from curiosity to shock as he took in the shattered glass and the glowing symbols.

"My god...," he murmured, kneeling down to examine the inscriptions. "What happened here?"

Hope recounted the events, detailing her spell and the unexpected explosion of energy. Dorian listened intently, his brow furrowing in concentration as he studied the symbols, tracing the lines with his fingers.

"This is definitely...ancient," he finally said, his voice filled with awe. "I can feel the power radiating from it. But it's incomplete, like a puzzle missing key pieces. These glyphs… they hint at something far beyond our understanding."

"Can you translate them?" Alaric asked, hope edging into his voice.

Dorian shook his head, frustration creeping into his tone. "It's not that simple. This language is esoteric, designed to convey concepts that might not even exist in our world. I'll need time to analyze it, but…" His voice trailed off as he glanced toward the man seated by the fire, who had now joined them in the doorway.

"Whatever you are, it's tied to this," Dorian said, his voice solemn. "These symbols are calling to you. You may be the key to unlocking their meaning."

The man stiffened, the weight of those words settling heavily upon him. "I understand this as much as I remember. I apologize I cannot be of more assistance," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. 

Hope stepped forward, her determination shining through. "Then let's figure it out together," she said, her voice warm and reassuring. "You're not alone in this. We'll help you remember. We'll figure out what this all means."

With a newfound sense of resolve, Alaric turned to Dorian. "Can you start your research immediately? We need answers, and we need them fast."

"Of course," Dorian replied, already flipping through the pages of a nearby tome, his mind racing as he delved into the task at hand.

As they gathered around the table, Hope glanced at the man, who seemed caught in a whirlwind of emotions he hid well. Fear and confusion, but a glimmer of hope at the end of it all. 

The next morning. 

The dining hall was a bustling hub of energy, filled with laughter and chatter as students gathered around long tables, sharing stories and meals. The air was rich with the aroma of various dishes, from roasted chicken to fresh French fires and creamy pasta, alongside colorful platters of fruits and pastries. Hope felt a mix of excitement and anxiety as she led their guest, who had been affectionately nicknamed "NB" by Lizzie, short for "nobody" toward a table where her friends awaited with two new faces to NB. 

"Hey, everyone!" Hope called out, trying to infuse warmth into the atmosphere. Lizzie waved enthusiastically from her seat, her expression brightening the space. Josie offered a gentle smile, her curiosity evident as she motioned for them to sit.

"Welcome to lunch, NB!" Lizzie said, her voice playfully sing-song. "I hope you're hungry, because we've got quite the spread today. And if you're not, we can totally help with that. Like, food fights are always an option."

Josie rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Let's not scare him off before he even gets to know us."

As they settled into their seats, the two new faces caught NB's attention. Across from him sat Milton Greasley and Kaeleb Hawkins, both wearing casual attire with an effortless charm that exuded confidence. Milton had an easy smile, while Kaeleb carried a cool demeanor, his dark dreads falling into his eyes.

"Hey, stranger," Milton said, leaning forward slightly. "Welcome to our little corner of the supernatural world. We're kind of like the weirdos for the weirdos here."

Kaleb smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "And don't worry, the food doesn't bite. Though some of us might."

NB stared down at the table, where an assortment of dishes beckoned him, vibrant and tantalizing. His plate sat empty, and he felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. The act of sharing a meal was foreign, something he struggled to comprehend amidst the warmth of camaraderie surrounding him.

"I take it you're not sure where to start?" Lizzie chimed in, her playful tone brightening the mood. "Join the club! I once spent a whole lunch trying to decide between spaghetti and… well, more spaghetti."

"Very profound," Josie interjected with a teasing smile, nudging Lizzie playfully.

Milton chuckled, glancing at NB with a knowing expression. "Don't worry. We've all had our moments of indecision. It's just part of the experience here. Right, Kaleb?"

"Oh yeah," Kaeleb said, crossing his arms with an easy grin. "So, what's your deal? Are you, like, a vampire? A witch? A secret agent from a different dimension?"

NB met Kaleb's gaze, a mix of bewilderment and curiosity evident in his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. "I just woke up… here, in a field not too far from here" 

"Classic case of amnesia," Milton interjected, nodding knowingly. "You'd be surprised how common that is around here. It's like a rite of passage. Just wait until you start recalling random facts about the universe or your long-lost family who might be genies or something."

Hope watched as the banter flowed, feeling a swell of gratitude for her friends. This was the kind of atmosphere she wanted for NB—one that felt welcoming instead of isolating. But as laughter echoed around the table, she noticed how he remained still, his plate untouched, eyes darting from one person to another.

"Are you going to eat anything?" Lizzie asked, her tone now softer, laced with genuine concern. "You're kind of making us look and feel bad."

NB glanced down at the food, confusion etched across his features. "I… don't know what to do. This is… different."

The truth of his words resonated deeply, and a silence fell over the table, the laughter subsiding as they took in his admission. The contrast between their eager appetites and his emptiness felt palpable, a reminder of the uncharted territory they all navigated.

"Is it the food? Or something else?" Hope ventured, her voice gentle. "You said you don't have memories. Does that include the concept of eating?"

Milton tilted his head thoughtfully. "Honestly, not knowing what you want to eat sounds like a gift for someone like us. We're always hungry. But for you, it might be more than that. Are you hungry for something other than food?"

NB met Milton's gaze, uncertainty clouding his eyes. "I don't feel… anything. No hunger as you describe it, no desire for anything. I just… am."

"Cogito Ergo Sum..." Josie muttered to herself in a moment of brief contemplation. 

The table fell silent again, and Hope felt a pang of sympathy for him. She couldn't fathom what it must be like to feel so disconnected from the simple joys of life. In a school filled with supernatural beings, where hunger could meant something more profound, his admission felt like a heavy weight.

Kaleb broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. "You might not have a physical hunger, but that doesn't mean you can't find something to enjoy...Unless you photosynthesize or eat flowers or something...Anyway, we're all here for you, whether it's food or just company."

Lizzie nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm unwavering. "Exactly! We can start with something simple, like bread or fruit. Trust me, once you take a bite, it might spark something."

NB hesitated, staring at the bright fruit platter laden with vibrant colors, the sweet aroma enticing yet foreign. He reached for a piece of apple, its crispness appealing in its simplicity. Holding it in his hand, he felt the weight of the moment.

As he took a bite, the crunch echoed in the air, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a spark of something, an unfamiliar sensation dancing at the edges of his awareness. The sweetness burst on his tongue, awakening dormant memories he couldn't quite grasp.

"See? Not so bad, right?" Lizzie encouraged, her eyes gleaming with delight.

Hope watched closely, hoping this small act could bridge the chasm between his existence and theirs. As he chewed, something flickered in his gaze, a fleeting connection to the world around him.

But as the initial spark faded, the heavy feeling returned, settling back in the corners of his mind. He felt like an outsider, separate from the laughter and joy that surrounded him. The warmth of companionship contrasted starkly with the emptiness he carried within.

Hope's heart ached for him, for the struggle that lay behind his eyes. "You're not alone in this," she reassured him softly. "We'll help you find your way, whatever it takes."

NB looked around the table, taking in the familiar faces that had welcomed him despite the unknowns. The noise of the dining hall faded into the background, and for the first time, he felt the flicker of a connection, a thread tying him to these people, even amidst the fog of uncertainty.

"Thank you," he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of sincerity.

And as they continued to eat, to laugh, and to share stories, Hope felt a quiet determination bloom within her. They would uncover the mysteries that surrounded NB, together, forging bonds that transcended their differences. In this world of the extraordinary, perhaps they could find something truly profound, acceptance, understanding, and the promise of belonging.