It follows soon to say, that young Alan had always loved magic, not real magic. The magic that performers used caught his eye when he was but a boy, aged seven years. He strived to be like them, as flamboyant and powerful as they seemed, he felt he could reach an understanding through magic. His childhood wasn’t the easiest, and so, he dove headfirst into the art of illusion to stray from his homebound problems. Starting with mere card tricks and pulling a coin from behind his sister’s ear. He felt it trifle, nowhere near what he wanted, he sought tricks that would enthrall the audience and wished to play hefty tricks upon the mind. It took effort and his path became laden with sweat and in some cases death loomed close, but what he wanted didn’t take him long, he had a talent for the art of illusion.

By his last year in junior high, his performance had become so fantastic that he was approached by the media whilst performing on the street. They recorded him, live, without his knowledge. It seemed he had garnered immense popularity in his local area. They offered him to perform live on a stage, on national television, with an assistant provided to him. This played into his ambitions for his career and one of his goals, to become renown worldwide. He had some hiccups, for one, Alan was accustomed to working alone. The few times he had worked with someone else, it was his younger sister. Someone he trusted, she had also been there to witness his performances, so she understood what to do. He had also never performed in front of such a large audience. He chose to set a condition. His terms were that his sister would be his assistant. He needed someone that had a good chemistry with him, Alia was his best option. They accepted his terms, to them, it was minor in the grand scheme of things. …This was his mistake.

Alan set out to prepare for the greatest performance he had ever done. He would use the first trick he learned, predicting the card someone had chosen. His goal for this trick, however, was to stretch it out towards the entire audience. To predict each of the cards the audience had in mind. A harsh feat, even for the greatest magicians. Alan believed he could do it. He practiced without a break for several days, his sister helping him in anyway. Near to the time he had to appear on stage, he accomplished his task, he perfected the trick. This is what was planned; Alia would ask the audience to picture a card and to keep that card in mind, then Alan would appear from below the stage, a deck of cards in each hand. He would then flick the cards out at a rapid pace, which would land on the ground, the ones chosen by the audience facing up and the ones not chosen facing downward. All of it appearing as though it were done in a single moment. It tested his skills as a magician and his physical abilities. The rest of the show would follow with the usual tricks.

On said day, Alan spent his time before it began, focusing on the trick with an old set of cards. New, sealed cards would be provided to him when he went on stage. It was done this way due to past magicians using faulty cards to cheat. He became worried though, his sister had been missing for some time, and the show was close to starting. He was about to get up and search for her on his own. As luck would have it, she stepped through the door of the dressing room as he stood up, or so he thought.

Everything was ready, so they both headed to their positions, separating along the way. Below the stage laid on a table everything he required, including two deck of cards. He nabbed them, unaware of the small fold on one, and waited for his que to take the stage. A light lit up on the platform he stood on, then it began a slow totter up. He was excited, so much so, his legs vibrated. As his head popped out, wearing the mask as he did, the audience shrieked at his emergence. Alan postured both arms outward and then with what seemed like ease, his arms made a terrific sound and flailed back and forth, making it hard for the eye to see. Everything was going as planned, until that fateful last card left the tip of his callused finger, just a spark is all it took.

A tiny puff of white smoke broke onto Alan’s face, following a harsh fit of coughing, it left black smudges on his skin. This can’t be, he thought then. All the cards had caught flame due to that little spark and instead of cards, traces of torched pieces of paper floated to the ground. Static shock overtook him, unmoving, while the audience became confused as to what he was doing. That shouldn’t have happened, he didn’t think it possible, and finally shame wracked his young mind. He botched the performance, something that was the biggest taboo, and stage fright slipped it’s claws into him. He had never experienced it, the pressure overwhelmed him. A tear slipping down his cheek, he could no longer hold it in, and flew into a fit of excessive bawling. He then held his arms over his eyes as he sprinted off the stage. This was where Alan’s career as a professional magician met its end. It’s also when he became a true magician, if not for it, his face would have been blown to bits.

A keen onlooker took note of this.

Two years later, as a sophomore in high school, Alan grew to loathe the illusions he once loved. The light that once shone in his eyes had faded. He became a husk living through pure survival instinct. His sister who witnessed this for two years could no longer bear the pangs of guilt, she broke down into tears and the ugly truth bared its head. Alan wasn’t the only one in the family with talent, Alia had her own as well. She placed at the top of her rankings in school on several occasions, a born genius. She placed a thin layer of white phosphorus under the last card, covering the others in gasoline, so when this one card lit up the rest would follow. When Alan rubbed the card with his callused finger it exposed the white phosphorus to oxygen, causing it to combust.

Alia formed this plan during the time she helped her brother practice. She didn’t hate her brother, she came to realize that if his career took off, it would lead to him leaving her. She couldn’t allow that, she felt she needed her brother, in fact he was a hero to Alia. In the end, things didn’t work out in her favor. Once Alan learned of this, he could no longer trust anyone in his family, and left his home. He was sixteen at the time, he knew he could survive fine on part-time jobs.

Having figured out it wasn’t his fault that his performance failed, Alan once again took up the mantle of street magician and donned the mask he wore in the past. Ethyr The Great, returned from the grave, and three years cascaded by.

Alan never tried to become famous again, he stuck to the streets, for the sake of doing what he loved. Alan had a decent full-time job and enjoyed what he did, during the day he worked there and at night he became Ethyr The Great. On such a night, he wasn’t getting much interaction, and the streets were slowly deadening. He began to pack up his belongings, until he heard the light tapping of footsteps approach, and turned to see who this was. She was a young woman, that appeared to be only a slight bit older than himself.

Rather than ask him to do a trick, she crossed her arms and bespoke, “It took a while to find you.”

Alan replied with a question, “Do you need something from me?” He was wary. Why would this person that he’s never met be looking for him? Could she be a stalker? He dabbled.

She cocked a terse grin, “Yes, I do. It involves the matter of whether you live or die. I can’t let you go unwarded any longer.”

This woman puzzled Alan, he couldn’t understand what she was talking about, something felt bizarre to him. So, he asked, “What’s your deal? Are you high as a kite right now, lady?” He jumped to the obvious conclusion; drugs.

“No, ugh,” She furled her brow and moved her lips around slightly. “It’s easier to just show you.”

After saying so, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin, tossing it into the air. On the coins fall, she reached out, and as if in stasis it stopped midair. “See?” She asked.

Alan whistled, then remarked, “That’s one dandy trick. Are you using strings to do that?”

This annoyed the woman to her very last nerve, “Trick? Strings!? You fucking buffoon, this is magic! Real. Magic.”

Alan burst into laughter, “No way, even I know magic isn’t real.”

“Damnit!” Yelled the woman before punching him.

This was how Alan Hershel and his master, Cheryl Fahler, met. After much debate between the two, including intense swearing and some hitting, she convinced him that magic was real and that he himself held latent magical power. She eventually explained how she came to know of him. She had been a member of the audience when he was on television. Telling him that he had unknowingly used magic that day to save his face, causing a time delay of four seconds that let him move back. She told him that if he didn’t hone his magic, he would die from it, building up more and more in a chaotic manner that would flow through his veins like poison. Alan wasn’t a fan of dying, so he chose to do what she said, and followed her. Another chapter in his short time on Earth turned a page and he left behind the life he had spent three years building up.

Alan and Cheryl were together for a year and a half, traveling the world while he trained under her tutelage. The reason for the constant movement is that they were not safe staying in one place. Alan discovered that not only was magic real and there were others out there like himself, but that there were also magical creatures and those that hunted magicians. Some were daemons and most were humans. The humans were called witch hunters and they have existed as long as magicians have. Alan gained many things along this journey and that patience truly was a virtue. It was easy to be patient for someone who played with the constructs of time. No longer was Alan just a street performer he also became a time mage.

As of now, Alan is in a bit of a pickle. He’s no amateur when it comes to time magic. He can reverse time by ten minutes and even stop time for thirty minutes. Still, he doesn’t compare to his master, whose body is stuck in a loop. To look as though she’s in her twenties and be fifty-three. He once thought her a prodigy, that image in mind shattered into pieces too soon.

Rubbing his chin, he made attempts to figure out what was going on here, “I don’t understand. I’ve tried thirteen times and this stupid truck is still going to hit her.”

In front of him, was a street, bustling with cars. A girl is frozen in stasis, making her way across the street. However, the problem is, a truck didn’t stop on the red light and continues to saunter forward. Thirteen. That’s how many times Alan has reversed time. Each time loop, he’s done something different, even going so far as to move the girl ten blocks away. Yet, somehow, she still ends up in front of the truck.

“This has to be some form of advanced level curse,” He mouthed. “Was it a faerie playing a trick? No, it can’t be. They don’t like to leave their precious forests, plus, they avoid killing others. A daemon wants her soul? But why would it go so far for such a minor soul? I’ve got no clues here as to what’s going on. Ugh, I told her I’d never need to call on her for help, my chances are getting slim.”

Alan raised a hand and following a few intricate strokes he wrote out glowing white words. Master, need help. Come quick. Important. He pushed the words and they trickled away. That should do it, had to make it short so it would travel faster.

After a few seconds, Alan felt the irritating sting of a bee on the back of his neck, to which he swatted. “Ow, what the hell.”

Regardless of his annoyance, a portal shred open on the space beside him. A translucent and luminous blue portal. A foot plopped out, then the body of a young woman made her way through it. It was Cheryl.

“Y-you put a mark on me?” Alan questioned.

“It’s easier to keep track of you that way. Far too easy. You have some issues with bars, kid. Trying to pick up women?”

Not true, now that Alan is twenty-one, he likes to drink every now and then. Calms his spirits. Drunk people are good entertainment.

“That’s none of your business! Look, I asked you here because of this.” He pointed at the tot girl, sporting her school uniform.

“And? This shouldn’t be a problem for you. Wait… I sense an overflowing amount of residual magic that’s way out of the norm of human power. I think this girl’s been god-touched, kid.” Cheryl went over to the girl and started touching her, lifting her clothes. Inspecting her body.

“So, did you find anything?” Alan postured a hand her way.

“No, nothing, there’s no mark on her. You’ve stumbled across more trouble than you can handle, Alan. This girl isn’t normal. I think she’s a demi-god, although they’re a rarity these days, you actually found a demi-god.” Her tone had went from uncaring to serious. Cheryl became afraid for Alan. It was no laughing matter.

“But, she’s stuck in my time loop. There’s no way she can be a demi-god.” He scratched his head, quite a conundrum to him.

“She hasn’t discovered her latent powers yet, that’s why you can do this.” Alan didn’t ask, but as his master, Cheryl gave him an answer. “It’s better to leave this be. Powerful forces are at work here.”

“No, I can’t let her die. She’s an… Acquaintance of sorts, anyway, I have to help her.”

Cheryl perked a nasty smirk, "Alan, c'mon, spit it up. Who is this girl to you?"

Alan relieved a fresh and heavy sigh, "Okay, alright, I'll tell you. She's my half-sister. From my mother's side. I found out about her a month back, while scrying for my mother's location. Truth be told, I was curious about what she was like, so I decided to follow her today and then this had to happen."

Alan had a complicated family history and he felt like seeing how his mother was doing, he hadn't seen her since he was five. Even Alan still held feelings for his family, although small, they were there. Then he found his half-sister, who didn't deserve anything he experienced in his life.

"That's good enough for me," Cheryl replied. "Have you checked the truck yet?"

"No... I've been focusing on holding my magic in place."

"I swear, Alan, sometimes you can be a half-wit when it comes to this. You're a performer, you should know to check every possible corner."

Cheryl went to look around the truck and found nothing, so she cracked the latches off the back, opening the hatches, and discovered something.

"Lo and behold, I've found our problem, my dear apprentice."

"What is it?" Alan's curiosity shot up.

"It's a sigil, a simple one at that." She climbed into the back and touched the sigil while her eyes were closed. A few seconds later, smoke puffed from it and it was dispelled. "Another problem solved in a hour. Your sister should be fine now."

"Thank you so much." Alan moved her back and dispelled his magic. The truck didn't come close to hitting her.