“This is my room,” he said when they reached the very end of the second-floor hallway.

  He pushed open a mahogany door inlaid with intricate vine patterns.

  Inside was a spacious bedroom. A king-sized bed stood in the center of a glossy oak floor. The ash-gray feather duvet was neatly folded, and the pillows were stacked in soft, layered rows.

  The door to the balcony was open in a small crack, letting in a gentle breeze that carried the faint scent of lavender. Outside, a small white table with two matching chairs overlooked the backyard garden. From there, the view stretched to a turquoise-blue swimming pool and a fish pond shimmering in the sunlight.

  Luther stepped in but didn’t dare touch anything. He was afraid that even the slightest contact might somehow spoil the room.

  One wall was lined with shelves displaying model cars, everything from vintage ones to the latest hypercars. On the opposite side stood a glass-front shoe cabinet, housing dozens of limited-edition sneakers, many still with their original tags attached.

  Beside it was a walk-in wardrobe, its door left ajar to reveal neat rows of shirts, blazers, hoodies, suits, and other clothing, all organized by color.

  In the corner stood the kind of computer setup many boys would dream about: three curved, wide monitors, a mechanical keyboard with shifting colors, a red-and-black adjustable gaming chair, and a surround-sound system mounted on the walls.

  “This is my gaming setup. I’ll show you later,” Aaron said. “I’m sure you’ll love it!”

  Right beside stood two instruments: a dark brown acoustic guitar and a modern lyre with a sleek alloy frame.

  “I suddenly knew how to play these after I awakened. Sounds pretty crazy, right?” Aaron grinned. “My mom had them custom-made from a workshop in Cremona.”

  “Beautiful,” Luther said, his eyes lingering on the lyre.

  Even the bathroom was larger than Luther’s entire bedroom. Behind a dark-wood door lay a space almost half the size of the room he had just entered. Marble covered the walls, a long counter held two polished sinks, and a rainfall shower framed one corner. A bathtub rested beside the window, draped with silk curtains that could be drawn by hand.

  When Luther stepped back into the bedroom, he froze in place, uncertain of what to do with his hands, overwhelmed by the quiet luxury surrounding him.

  “Was it. Too cramped. Sleeping. With me?” Luther suddenly asked.

  Of course it would be. My room’s tiny, my bed’s basically a toy compared to this. He’s probably uncomfortable but just not saying it. A hundred little thoughts flickered through his mind.

  “Cramped? No way. Quit imagining stuff! Sleeping next to you is basically a luxury,” Aaron teased.

  Luther’s eyes shifted toward a photo album in the glass cabinet. Aaron noticed it and said:

  “That’s me from when I was little all the way until now. My mom loves taking photos. If her phone acts up, it’s basically the end of the world for her.”

  He took it out, and the two of them sat on the bed, flipping through the pages together.

  A short while later, there was a knock at the door. A plump and short woman stood there, holding a tray with a few small sandwiches and two glasses of lemonade.

  “Hi, Aunt Lacy!” Aaron greeted.

  “Hello,” Luther said.

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  “Hey, boys, food’s ready. I just brought a little so you’ll still have room for dinner,” she said. “Aunt Hanna’s making Peking duck tonight.”

  “That’s amazing! Luther, Aunt Hanna’s roast duck is the best in all of New York. I’ve tried tons of places and nothing even comes close,” Aaron said.

  “Thank you,” Luther said, taking the tray of food and nodding.

  Aaron patted Luther’s shoulder.

  “Heh, you’ve improved, you know that? You said hello and thank you without tripping over your words. That’s progress, clear as day!”

  “Thanks to you,” Luther answered.

  “You help me with school stuff, and I’ll teach you how to talk to people. Teamwork, bro!” Aaron said with a playful nod.

  “Then. Let’s study,” Luther said, pulling his books from his bag.

  Aaron:

  “…”

  …

  Ravenswood House, one afternoon.

  Luther ran a hand over his messy hair and measured it. He then went to the bathroom and took out a large black cloth and an electric clipper. Carrying a small wooden stool, he walked into the backyard.

  Aaron asked:

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cutting hair,” Luther answered, plugging the clipper into an outlet.

  Aaron lunged forward and grabbed his arm.

  “Hey, hey, hey, no! Stop! Please! I’m begging you!!!”

  His loud, panicked tone, like someone about to be slaughtered, startled Luther so much that he dropped the clipper to the ground with a clunk.

  “What’s wrong?” Luther asked.

  “What’s with all that yelling? Keep it down so I can watch my show.” Acher turned his head, scolded them once, then went back to watching his cartoon.

  “Don’t cut your hair yourself, pleaseee!” Aaron said.

  “It ugly?” Luther asked.

  “No, you look good no matter what hairstyle you have. But shaving your head is such a waste, an absolute crime! I was actually planning to wait until your hair grew a bit more, then take you to a proper barber. I promise you’d look incredible!”

  Good thing he was here today. Otherwise, it would have been months before he could fix it.

  “No need,” Luther said.

  “What do you mean no need? This is non-negotiable! It’s serious, serious enough to affect your happiness for the rest of your life,” Aaron warned. “I forbid you from even touching this clipper again!”

  Luther:

  “?”

  “Don’t underestimate the importance of hair. It’s the very first impression people get when they see you …” Aaron went on and on without stopping.

  Luther smiled.

  “Ok,” he said.

  “Great! Give it one or two more weeks. Now hand me the clipper,” Aaron said.

  “What for?”

  “I’m confiscating this evil, cursed object. If Aphr … the Embodiment of Love and Beauty were here, she’d destroy it on the spot,” Aaron said.

  Luther:

  “…”

  “No. I keep it. My grandpa’s gift,” he said.

  Aaron thought for a moment, then said:

  “Fine. But you have to promise me you won’t use it again.”

  “I promise.”

  …

  October 5th.

  Luther lay flat on the bed, eyes closed. His arms rested at his sides, and on his chest sat a purewhite Etherstone.

  From the crescent-moon-shaped focal point embedded in his heart, a deep black-blue liquid began to flow, spreading through his veins.

  When this liquid energy passed through the center of his chest, it became semi-transparent and emitted a soft blue glow, like a gemstone turned into a flowing substance. After some time, it circled back into his heart, forming an endless loop.

  “Congratulations, Sir Adept Mage Luther Ravenswood! How do you want to celebrate tonight? Lobster and steak sound good?” Aaron asked. “I’ll make the order right now!”

  “No, expensive. I cook.”

  “No way you’re cooking tonight! We must celebrate!”

  “Let’s try something first,” Luther said.

  “Try what?” Aaron asked.

  “Flying.”

  “Wait! What???!”

  They stepped out into the backyard, standing shoulder to shoulder. Their hands were clasped together, and the faint, hazy outline of Luther’s cloak seemed to stretch just enough to wrap around all three of them.

  Acher, perched on Luther’s shoulder, didn’t look the least bit excited about the idea, but still got dragged into it without a choice.

  Once everything was set up and ready, Luther controlled his magic and murmured under his breath:

  “Skironispnoe!”

  Slowly, the two boys began to rise off the ground, drifting upward toward the night sky.

  They floated higher than the roof of the houses, then above the top of the trees, until they hung in the open air about two hundred feet above the ground. The cool night wind swept through their hair, carrying with it the faint scent of the city below.

  From this height, they could see the world spread out beneath them, tiny pedestrians walking under the soft glow of streetlamps, the warm light pooling on the sidewalks, and cars moving along the roads as if they had slowed to a crawl.

  “Hoorayyyyy!” Aaron shouted, unable to contain himself.

  “Don’t burn through too much magic,” Acher warned. “Make sure to start descending once you’ve got about two-tenths left, or you’ll risk dropping straight out of the sky.”

  “It’s fine. I still have plenty,” Luther replied.

  “Oh, right, I almost forgot,” Acher clicked his tongue. “Since you’re a living reaper, both the quality and the amount of your magic are far beyond what an ordinary adept mage could manage. In that case, just have your fun.”

  “Let’s go to Manhattan!” Aaron demanded, eyes bright with excitement.