"You're not lying, are you?"
"Why would I lie about that?"
Papa Tounde seemed not to trust her words entirely. So, he bent down on the floor and took a handful of rocks. He casually threw them before observing closely.
"You're really not lying. One of the Chosen Ones has survived their catastrophe and awakened their magical powers. Hahahaha." He laughed maniacally without a care in the world.
He did not expect someone to awaken in this generation, let alone Tia's son. However, now it made sense since that thing could only belong to the chosen ones, and it appeared in close proximity to its owner.
"Why do you seem happier than I do?" asked Tiara, and Papa Tounde did not know how to explain. Fate was kind to a few people, or the so-called Chosen Ones. However, most would die early or never awaken their magical powers, thus taking their talents to the No Maj World.
Papa Tounde did not immediately answer. Instead, he looked at the stars in the sky, and his eyes became all white with no pupil, and he muttered to himself: " This time will be different; I can feel it."
A wide grin appeared on his face, showing his black teeth. "Do you know what your son's awakening means?"
"No."
Papa Tounde laughed again before answering. "It means we still have a chance. The revival of magic, the return of the divine, the re-emergence of lost mysteries, ancient realms, and past legends." His eyes twinkled with a flash of brilliance, unlike anything in his life.
"A new era is coming — an era of strife, chaos, and prosperity—the Golden Age of Magic and the Supernatural."
Papa Tounde grinned, "I thought the decline of magic was inevitable, and I would die without any hope. Who knew…"
Tiara frowned, "What do these things have to do with my son?"
"Everything will begin with him."
"What nonsense are you talking about? He's only a kid."
"Fate does not care about such a trivial thing."
"Not if I have something to say about this."
Papa Tounde looked at her and did not argue with her. Some things were inevitable and not something a little witch could stop, even if she was amongst the most capable witches in the British Magical World. The fact that one of the artifacts reached her household proves that destiny was at work.
"Did you not come here for your husband?"
"Yes, you told me to come see you if my son awakened, and you will tell me how to find him."
"The answer you seek is simple: give your son his inheritance, and he will lead you to your husband."
"You!"
"I have told you the truth. Now, whether you listen or not is up to you."
Papa Tounde disappeared, but his voice echoed again, "My last advice to you: do not tell anyone about your son's destiny. Many people do not wish for his existence to live."
Tiara was in a daze for a while before regaining her bearings. She decided to return to England and calm down before deciding what to do next.
…
Christian opened his eyes, yawning and stretching, "What a strange dream." He got off the bed to brush his teeth and shower, but he stopped just as he was about to turn the water on. Usually, the first thing he does after waking up is to meditate, but he somehow forgot and has almost broken his routine of the past two years.
After shaking his head, Christian returned to the bed, lay flat, and closed his eyes. He did not like cross-legged meditation, so he usually chose this pose. He soon furrowed his brow.
Christian has a system for meditation. He must do it for one hour, divided into three sections of twenty minutes. The first section focused on [Focus Attention Mediation], which helps him focus his mind and concentrate. The process involved concentrating on something, and he always chose the Ancient Greek Alphabet.
The second section is [Mindfulness Meditation], which focuses on observing one's own thoughts, emotions, and feelings with a sense of detachment or without judgment. The objective is to analyze oneself and remain true to oneself.
The last section is [Loving-Kindness Meditation], which involves cultivating positive feelings like love, compassion, and respect toward oneself and others. During this section, he repeats phrases, intentions, objectives, and accomplishments to generate positive emotions.
When he was eight, he visited India for summer vacation, but soon afterward, his mother taught him to meditate and claimed she learned it from a monk on that trip. At first, Christian did not like meditation and could not even last ten minutes. However, it has become a natural part of his life after months of effort, without stopping.
As such, he immediately realized something was wrong when he could not visualize the alphabet and saw all those floating gray vapors from his dream.
"So, it wasn't a dream?" he muttered. He was baffled. Only a dream could explain such a weird phenomenon. He observed these vapors and got curious. However, thinking about the reaction after touching a big one, he focused on a small piece.
As soon as he willed it, one of the small vapors glowed, and he saw an entirely different scene. He seemed to be eating at a restaurant. He could feel every sensation, including the taste of the food, which was less than desirable.
Christian focused his mind and noticed an anomaly—his skin was white. The shock awakened him from this place, and a thought appeared in his mind:
'Are these vapors the memory of the person who attacked me?'
Based on the information he had, this was the logical conclusion. But there was no logic to this conclusion. How could he acquire the memory of an unknown white man? Why did that person wish to kill him in the first place? And what was that large white space?
Christian began to panic, thinking he might have gone insane. He thought he was developing some sort of schizophrenia and his alternative personality as a white American man.
'What should I do?' He did not feel he could tell his aunt or mother in case they asked him to see a psychiatrist; he did not want to be locked up in a hospital.
'I need to calm down. Let's ignore the vapors first. Maybe I will be fine if I don't access these memories.'
Christian did a breathing exercise to calm down before returning to his meditation. Unfortunately, he couldn't concentrate, and when left to his own thoughts, he always concluded he was going crazy.
Finally, he decided to shower and go for breakfast.
"You're early," said Eleanor when he saw him. She sat on the chair, straightening her hair with an iron, a mirror, and a cup of strange-smelling tea.
"I couldn't sleep well last night."
"A nightmare?"
"Something like that."
"Well, you're awake now. The butler has already prepared breakfast."
Christian nodded before heading to the dining room to eat. However, he was utterly distracted during the process and missed his aunt's departure. If not for Geoffrey Butler, who nudged him, he might have spent hours at the table.
After breakfast, Christian headed upstairs to his study room/library to write correspondence with Professor Henry and Professor Edward. Although they were no longer his teachers, they usually wrote to each other in Latin and Ancient Greek as a form of practice.
Once he finished, he planned to use his computer to play chess before reading a book. Luckily for him, he saw a visitor.
"Mum?"
"What? Surprise to see me!" said Tiara with a smile.
"It's really you." He rushed out of his chair and into her embrace. "Why are you back so early? Is something wrong?"
"I came because of something important: there is something I have to tell you."
"Sounds serious: what is it?"
"It is but there is no need to be in a hurry. We can attend to it tomorrow," she reassured.
"Oh, okay."
"How about we do something together?"
"Really? But you look tired," Christian remarked.
"I'm indeed not in the best shape. How about this? I will take a nap. When I wake up, we can cook together like we used to."
"Really? That will be great."
Christian and Tiara chatted briefly before she went to take a nap. Later that day, they shopped for ingredients, cooked, and spent the day together. Later, Tiara tucked him into bed, and Christian was so excited about today's activities that he slept soundly, not thinking that he had developed schizophrenia.