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Marcus Ignar is a professor at the Academy, well-known for his knowledge of magic and demons. Demonologist, as people called it these days.
He and Gregory had known each other since they were young—back when they were merely college students trying to understand the strange supernatural world humanity had suddenly found itself living in.
Even now, Marcus still never truly understood why someone like Gregory had become interested in demons in the first place. It simply did not fit him. Gregory had always been bright, earnest, painfully sincere. The kind of person who smiled too easily and worried too much.
Not the kind of person one imagined studying horrors beyond human comprehension. Still, they've become a good friend for all the years they spend reserching about the dangereous wonder of this world had come to.
Marcus stood in front of Gregory’s house, hands tucked behind his back. He knew he came unannounced. He had simply in the neighborhood and thought, why not pay Gregory a visit?
He knocked once.
No response.
Twice.
Still nothing.
By the third knock, Marcus waited a moment longer before reaching for the doorknob instead. Perhaps Gregory was out. It was still noon, nearing afternoon after all.
That assumption faltered when the door opened easily beneath his hand.
Unlocked.
Marcus slowly peeked inside.
“Gregory?” he called.
No answer.
After another moment of silence, he let himself in. Nothing looked disturbed, so he pushed aside the worst possibilities for now. Maybe Gregory had forgotten to lock the door when he left. Maybe he simply felt he did not need to. Or perhaps he had fallen asleep somewhere inside the house.
Possibly.
As Marcus stepped further in, the familiar warmth of the house greeted him. Just as he remembered—cozy, filled with the scent of wood and dried leaves.
And chocolate.
Marcus paused slightly.
Well, that was new. Had Gregory started using chocolate incense?
“Gregory!” he called again.
Maybe Gregory was in the kitchen. That would explain both the smell and why he had not heard the knocking. Perhaps he was making some kind of drink.
Marcus followed the scent toward the kitchen.
The moment he stepped through the doorway, he began speaking immediately. “Gregory, if you’re in the kitchen at least lock the door. A burglar could easily ente—”
Instead of Gregory’s familiar wrinkled face, a teenager stood in the middle of the kitchen calmly drinking from a mug. Judging by the smell, chocolate.
Their eyes met.
The boy tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Marcus for several quiet seconds before finally speaking.
“Hello,” the boy greeted.
Marcus blinked in confusion. He had never seen him before. “Who are you?” he asked.
The boy raised a brow faintly.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he replied. “Considering you’re the one who suddenly entered?”
That...
That was true, yes.
Marcus had never had a problem entering Gregory’s house unannounced before, but this boy obviously did not know that. Just as Marcus himself had no idea who the boy was.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to salvage his first impression.
Now that he thought about it, it would not be strange if the boy assumed he was some kind of burglar. Though strangely enough, the boy did not seem bothered at all by Marcus suddenly entering the house.
“Pardon me, you’re right.”
Marcus removed his hat and placed it against his chest politely. “My name is Marcus Ignar. Nice to meet you, boy.”
“Nice to meet you too, sir,” the boy replied politely.
There was something odd about the way he spoke. Calm. Measured. Almost old-fashioned. It reminded Marcus uncomfortably of one of his former teachers rather than a teenager.
“Is Gregory home?”
“No. He left to buy apples.”
Ah.
That explained the unlocked door. Someone had been home the entire time.
“Is that so.” Marcus relaxed slightly. “By the way, are you his relative? Or perhaps his grandson?”
He knows that's Gregory is not married, but the possibly of a grandson from relative isn't impossible. Truthfully, Marcus did not know much about Gregory’s family. Only that he had once mentioned his parents and an older brother from another father. Beyond that, Gregory rarely spoke about blood relatives.
Or, the boy could simply be a neighbor’s child visiting.
At Marcus’ question, the boy hummed softly in amusement.
“I’m Wirt,” he said casually. “His older brother.”
...
Older brother?
Marcus stared at him. He knows Gregory’s older brother had died decades ago. Long before the Transcendence even happened.
For a brief moment, Marcus wondered if this was some kind of absurd joke. Was the boy dressing up as Gregory’s deceased brother for Halloween or something equally tasteless? As insulting as that sounded, Marcus could unfortunately imagine Gregory allowing it if asked.
“Is that a joke?” Marcus asked slowly.
Before the conversation could continue, a voice called from the entryway.
“Wirt!”
Gregory.
“I picked up the—”
The sentence cut off abruptly. Gregory froze mid-step upon seeing Marcus standing in the kitchen facing the boy.
Wirt turned toward him calmly. “Your friend came to visit, Greg.”
Gregory blinked once before looking back at Marcus. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he said. “Did I miss a letter?”
“Ah, no.” Marcus shook his head. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pay a visit. I wasn’t expecting company though.”
His eyes drifted meaningfully toward Wirt. “Sorry for barging in.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem.” Gregory smiled awkwardly. “Sit down. I’ll make coffee.”
“Ah, thank you.” Marcus hesitated before glancing back at the boy again. “By the way... is he your relative?”
Gregory nodded naturally. “Yes. He’s my brother.”
Marcus stared. “…Is this a Halloween joke?”
Gregory looked visibly unsure how to answer that. “Uhhh… no,” he said carefully. “He’s my brother. Like the one I told you about before.”
Marcus slowly looked between Gregory and Wirt.
“What...? But you said he—”
“Long story,” Gregory interrupted quickly. “You can sit down and I’ll explain?”
Marcus exhaled slowly.
“...Alright.”
Beside them, Wirt set down his empty mug.
“Seems like you’ll be busy attending your guest,” he said calmly. “I’ll take my leave.”
Gregory immediately turned toward him.
“Wait, no. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”
“It’s fine, Greg.” Wirt moved toward the back door casually. “I’m leaving because I want to. The Unknown is calling me anyway.”
Marcus frowned slightly at the statement.
The Unknown?
How would a teenager even know about the Unknown?
Was he even a teenager?
No, Marcus realized belatedly, that was not even the right question anymore.
Was he human?
“Oh, right.” Gregory rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Come back before dinner?”
“We’ll see.”
Wirt opened the back door before pausing. “Goodbye, Greg.”
Then he turned his head slightly toward Marcus.
“Professor.”
And stepped outside.
Marcus’ eyes widened slightly. He had never told the boy he was a professor.