Chapter one: The time to die (part 1)

Walking home from work gave David time to think. He had just been fired from 'Magic mirror', the company that had seen him through many scrapes with his carrier. "Damn amateur photographer." He muttered. One of the new camera men had made his bulb flash in the middle of David's grand finale, escaping from a steel box. It had flashed just as he opened the secret compartment to get out the back of the box, so everyone in the theater saw him. He had had a few less drastic hiccups earlier in the show, so it came as no surprise that some of the audience demanded their money back.

As David got close to his apartment, he smelled smoke lingering in the air. He paused, then began to run. He turned the final corner, and a wisp of dark smoke broke upon his face, causing him to gag. "Oh, S***." A firetruck was just leaving the square, a group of people dispersing as it did. David fell to his knees, looking at the charred ruins of his building. "Are you kidding me?! This day could not get any worse." He began to cry, not caring who saw him kneeling there.

"I beg to differ, friend." David didn't look up, not caring who this man was. "After all, if this is horrible, then what is death to you? Or do you think it wouldn't make your day any worse?"

"What?" David did look up at that, and found himself face to face with a white male in his early thirtys, carrying a cane tipped with a golden wolf's head. "Do you mean something by that, or are you just surprised by my blatant observations?" The man asked, holding his hand out to David.

"I guess... both?" David accepted the hand, dusting himself off. "Well, then, let's see what I can tell about you. That was your building, correct?" David nodded, not seeing where this line of questioning would go. "And you used to do stage magic, but were recently fired from your company, this is also correct?"

"How did you know? I was fired just today." David looked with new interest on the gentleman. The man was wearing a magician's outfit, with long sleeves that just reached the base of his hands. he also had a golden card, a king of diamonds, in his lapel pocket. "That is for me to know, and you to not find out." The man snapped. "One more question, then you can go back to wallowing in grief." David was just about ready to sock the guy and get out of there when the man asked his last question: "What did you see on your twentieth birthday?" David froze. What? There was no way this man could know what he had seen eight years ago. This had to be some kind of trick. He answered, "I saw the 'Empire Strikes Back' for the first time. Why?"

The man narrowed his eyes at David. "Are you sure you don't remember anything more? Unnatural? An animal, perhaps?" No. Freaking. Way. "Are you a mind reader or something? How do you know all this? I saw a white raven, clear as day in the middle of the subway!"

"Oh. A raven, huh? Well, can't be helped." The magician looked with distaste at David for a moment before turning away. "When you are out of all other options, go ahead and call the number." "What number?"

"The one I put in your pocket, stupid."

David shoved his hand into his pants pocket, and found a black business card inside.

"Wait, what the heck..." he looked back up, but the man was gone.

He looked back at the card. In gold lettering, it read: 'Samuel Hues. Antique magic, and custom trickery.' On the back was a phone number.

What. The HECK. Just happened?