Woke up to the smell of old wood and dust. Sunlight was slipping through the cracks in these thin-ass curtains, lighting up this bare little cabin. Air felt stale, like nobody'd been here in years. But apparently, it's mine now. Mom's handwriting on the will said so. Left me this cabin out near Mystic Falls, along with a couple boxes of her old stuff.
Malcolm Selwyn. Mal. That's what I go by now, but saying it out loud still feels a little weird. I mean, I am Mal, but there's more to it. Pieces of another life keep floating up—late nights cramming for exams, city noise, just regular-degular life. But now... there's something else. Something buzzing under my skin I can't quite name.
Weird thing is, accepting all this came too easy. Maybe it's the grief dulling everything. Lost Dad when I was a kid. Now Mom's gone too. Nobody left. Just me. And this old-ass cabin holding onto whatever secrets she didn't get around to telling me.
Cabin's old, but it's holding up. Got one bedroom, tiny kitchen, and a living room full of dust and old memories. Only modern thing in here is the fridge, and even that groans like it's mad I opened it. I took my time unpacking—some clothes, couple framed photos, a few books.
Four of 'em. Leather-bound, beat up from years of use. Didn't think much of them at first, but the second I touched the covers, something sparked. Not like electricity, but like... familiarity.
Ran my fingers over the ebony symbols. It was all in northern Haitian Creole. Luckily, I know a few dialects. Shoutout to past me.
Flipped through the pages. Ink's faded in spots, but I could still make out most of it. Spells. Incantations. Stuff I didn't fully get, but kinda... felt. Then it clicked. The lights flickering when I got pissed. Always being able to tell when folks were lying to me. That weird buzz that's been building ever since I got here? It ain't just grief.
She was a witch.
And if the hum in my chest and the way the air gets all heavy around me means anything, then yeah... so am I. Either that or I really need to find a doctor with range.
Days started blending together. Cabin turned into half-home, half-lab. Whole place smelled like burnt herbs and leftover magic. I cleared out a corner of the living room—shoved the coffee table and dusty old chair aside. Floor's got chalk marks all over it now. Some messy. Some real detailed.
Magic ain't just some made-up idea anymore. It bends if I push hard enough. Every spell buzzes through me like static. And once I felt that? No way I was stopping.
Day One
Birds came first. Wasn't hard. Tossed out some bread crumbs, got a few crows and sparrows close. Then some rats. Even saw a rabbit. I stayed back in the shadows, heart thumping. No real reason to hesitate. I was just trying to understand.
Pain Infliction
Cruciari Dolor.
Said the words soft and steady. Pointed my hand at this crow chillin' on a branch. Sun hit its feathers just right. At first, nothing. Then it screamed—loud and cracked. Thing fell off the branch, wings jerking like it was glitching. It hit the ground and just... twitched. I held the connection a second longer, then let go.
Bird went still. Breathing ragged. I crouched down next to it. Its eyes were full of fear. No recognition. Just pain.
"It worked," I said, kinda shaking. Not from guilt, more like... awe.
Wrote it down in my journal. Pain hit quick. No resistance. Animals don't really have defense mechanisms for magic. Kept thinking maybe a human would be different. But that could wait. More to test.
Day Two
Next up: telekinesis.
Motus.
Simple word. Heavy as hell. Locked onto a little rock near the door. It wobbled a little. Scraped the dirt like it was nervous. I clenched my teeth, focused harder. Rock floated. Not high, but enough. Then it dropped with a thunk.
"Progress," I mumbled. Sloppy, yeah. But it's progress.
Then a fox wandered near the edge of the clearing.
Somnus.
Said it quiet. Fox just dropped. Eyes rolled back, breathing real slow. No panic. No noise. Just sleep. Walked over, knelt next to it. Fur was still warm. Heartbeat was steady. I brushed my hand along its side.
Would a person go down that easy? Or would they fight it?
I wrote the question down. That's future-me's problem.
Memory Manipulation
Recidere Memoriae.
Tried it on the fox first. Its mind was... soft. Easier than I expected. Spell moved like smoke through it. I grabbed a memory—one where it was hunting—and replaced it. In its head, I'd always been around. Like a guardian or something.
When it woke up, it just came to me. No fear. Like we'd always known each other.
Rabbits were tougher. Some took the new memories without issue. Others kinda glitched out. One just stared at me, freaked, then dipped into the woods.
I tweaked the spell, tried again. Bit by bit, I started to get it. Loyalty's easy to fake. Complicated stuff? Not so much. Animals ain't built for deep thought. Still, I wrote everything down.
Subject: Fox.Memory Implant - Caretaker Role.Result: Full Acceptance.
Subject: Rabbit.Memory Implant - Dominant Figure.Result: Mild Resistance. Unstable.
Subject: Crow.Memory Implant - Familiar Bond.Result: Erratic Behavior. Terminated.