The Last Apprentice: The Dark Arts

Chapter IV: Lamia Scales

Light. White light. Blinding light. It was everywhere. An empty world just filled with it. Nothing but it . . . and me.

How did I get here? I couldn't remember anything, much less that. All I knew was the scorching light, scorching me, my being . . . my soul.

"Who am I?"

"You are my son."

As a woman dressed in crisp white approached—a white that somehow stood out against the light coming from every direction—I jumped back in surprise. She'd come from nowhere, but everywhere.

"Son?" I said to the woman. "What . . . son? Who's son? What's—Where am I?" I whirled in place, gazing out into nothingness, into a seemingly endless void that stretched onward and onward, into eternity.

The woman gave a broad, warm smile. She. . . . Did I know her? It seemed like she knew me.

" 'What son,' you say? Why, the seventh of me and your father, who he himself was a seventh son, of course. Child of mine, dearest child, you are a seventh son of a seventh son. You are Thomas Jason Ward."

Tom. . . . Thomas? Thomas Ward? Is that who I am?

"But not only that," she went on. "You are my child. Born to slay the Fiend. You have my blood; my powers. I am Lamia, the first of the lamia witches. And you are my son. Remember that and remember your potential! Remember what you have accomplished . . . and what you will accomplish. Most of all, remember your strength, Tom! Use it! Live to fight the war! Make your mam proud!"

"I . . . I . . ." I couldn't think, couldn't comprehend.

"Do it now, Tom, before it's too late! Before you do die! Live!"

The fierce, searing light escalated in intensity. My skin felt like it was melting off of my bones. Everything was melting away, except for me. Who I was. Who I am. Like a tidal wave, the memories flooded back. I had a duty that I wouldn't let even death kill! With all of my power, I will destroy anything that threatens to harm the County! Till my last breath. Till my last shred of will.

Till my very soul snuffs out as if it were a puny candle.

I am Thomas Ward, and my only mission was to vanquish the Alchemist . . . and all of Pendle!

***

I sprung awake with more energy than I'd ever felt before.

The sun hung in the sky at its zenith; I'd been passed out for almost a full day, but I knew better. In reality, I'd been gone . . . dead . . . for three days-or, that's what my inner clock told me, the one all seventh sons of seventh sons possess.

Now, I was back, here to stay.

Here to finish what I'd started.

On my feet again, wobbly as they were, I made my way towards the house and stumbled into the kitchen, took a seat by the table.

Sitting there, alone, something pretty unnerving came to mind.

How come I hadn't decayed during all that time lying in the grass underneath the sun? I felt every inch of skin along my face, and found nothing out of the ordinary. Strange. Very strange indeed. Perhaps I'd never know how my body was still intact after being . . . gone . . . for so long.

I didn't want to linger much on that any longer than I had to, so I sifted through my memories, trying to recall what exactly had happened.

Wait! Where was the boggart at?

"Kratch!" I called out.

Suddenly, I remembered everything.

The boggart was. . . . He's dead, isn't he? So that meant the Spook's house was unprotected now. Meant that I was unprotected. But I can fight. I have to. With the boggart gone, that was one less ally I had to help me on my mission. There was Grimalkin, I knew, but she was gone—no one knew where she was, not even me, the one who was in an alliance with her. What to do now. . . . What to do . . .