Old Flame

Xander crept down the stairs, his hand clutching the leather-bound book tightly. Voices echoed through the empty house - one deep and menacing, the other chillingly sweet.

"He's still here, isn't he?" The man's Scottish accent sent shivers down Xander's spine. "Then let's go get him."

Heart racing, Xander moved closer to the staircase banister to listen in on their conversation.

He could feel fear pulsing through his veins as he held onto the book for dear life.

With a glance at the symbols on the cover, Xander grabbed one of his grandmother's bags hanging on the stairwell and shoved the book inside. As he turned towards the front door, adrenaline kicked in and he sprinted towards it with the bag slung over his shoulder.

But before he could make it out, a strong hand yanked him back by his collar. Gasping for air, Xander spun around to face the man behind him. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to keep calm and think of a way out.

"Where do you think you're going?" The man growled, his grip tightening on Xander's shirt.

"Away from you," Xander retorted, trying to sound braver than he felt. He scanned the room, taking in every detail of his attacker. The man was built like a tank with a twisted scar running down his cheek below a thick beard.

But even more unnerving were his eerie blue eyes that glinted in the moonlight seeping through the window behind him. Xander could sense the malice behind those eyes, and fear threatened to consume him.

"You're not going anywhere," The man sneered, pulling Xander closer.

His breath had a metallic smell as he spoke again. "You're coming with us."

Xander's heart raced even faster at those words. Fear swirled through him, urging him to fight back.

And without hesitation, he did.

With a swift movement, Xander brought his knee up into the man's stomach, causing him to loosen his grip. Taking the opportunity, Xander wriggled free and bolted towards the front door. But his escape was short-lived as another figure blocked his path - a woman with ethereal beauty.

Her skin was as pale as chalk, her lips a vivid red, and her eyes a piercing silver. She gave him a twisted smile that sent chills down his spine.

"Where do you think you're going, sweet boy?" she purred in a chilling tone.

Xander had no desire to engage in a fight, especially not in his grandparents' home. He raises his chin to face the woman and states, "If anyone should be questioning anyone, it should be me. You are all trespassers."

The woman took a step closer, her smirk growing as she observed him. "Feisty, I like that," she said, her voice chilling. She reached out towards him but Xander dodged to the side.

He could feel the rage building inside him, and he glanced down at his hands where flames were beginning to flicker. The woman's smile widened, exposing her sharp fangs.

"You were right, Alfre. I thought you were teasing me, but it seems that flame user had a son. Who knew." Her tone turned sultry.

"Yes, who knew," echoed the voice of Alfre, the man with the thick beard and twisted scar, as he regained his composure and stepped closer to Xander. His menacing blue eyes now portrayed something else - intrigue.

Xander's mind was racing with one thought: how did they know his father? He couldn't help but ask, his anger fueling the flames within him.

"What do you know about my father?" Xander demanded, his voice crackling with barely contained fury. The flames around his hands danced higher, casting eerie shadows against the old wooden walls of his grandparents' home.

The woman laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the silent house. "Oh, we know plenty about your father, boy," she said, stepping closer to Xander. "He was quite fun back in our time."

Alfre followed behind her, his face now wearing a smirk similar to hers. "Aye, he was a firecracker. Quite a handful to deal with...just like his son it seems," he taunted, his eyes flicking down to the flames surrounding Xander's clenched fists.

The young man flexed his fingers, and the flames grew in size and intensity. He had no idea what these intruders knew about his father, but one thing was clear - they were not on friendly terms.

Xander swallowed hard, struggling to maintain a brave front. "What do you want from me?"

"Now that is the question of the hour," the woman said, crouching down to face Xander eye-to-eye. Her silver eyes flashed under the moonlight. "We have a proposition for you."

"In your dreams," Xander snapped back defiantly. He wouldn't give them an inch.

The woman chuckled at his response. She stood up and started pacing in front of him, her movements graceful and fluid like a predator circling its prey. "Oh, I assure you boy...this is no dream."

"Let's cut to the chase," Alfre interrupted gruffly, stepping forward as well. 

"We want the book you're hiding. Hand it over, and we won't hurt you." His voice was a low growl, and his eyes were fixed on the bag slung over Xander's shoulder.

The book. Of course, it would be the book. But how did they know about it? Xander had only discovered it recently.

"You're not getting it," Xander retorted, clutching the bag tighter. 

Just as the words left his lips, a sudden gust of wind blew open the front door. The flames in Xander's hand flickered wildly, casting an eerie glow on the two intruders' faces. Before any of them could react, a thunderous voice echoed through the house.

"Enough!" 

Standing at the entrance was a man towering over them all - his hair white as snow, eyes ablaze with wrath. His weathered face held an expression of deep concern and fury. 

Xander didn't recognize the old man.

The man simply nodded, his gaze never leaving the two intruders. The woman's mocking smile wavered for a moment but returned full force when she spoke.

"Well, well," she drawled, her piercing eyes sparkling under the moonlight. "If it isn't Oswald, the old flame."

Oswald didn't miss a beat. "Only to you, Arachne." His tone was cold as ice.

"Okay," Alfre interjected, rolling his eyes. "Enough with the chit-chat." He pointed at Xander's bag and growled, "The book."

"No," Oswald stated firmly. His gaze flicked to Xander who was staring wide-eyed at the unknown man. "Xander is not part of your sick games."

"The boy is of age to play by our rules," Arachne replied with a smirk.

Oswald's eyes flared brighter as he stepped forward, blocking Xander from their view.

Thunder rumbled outside as if echoing his growing anger. Xander looked up at the old man, Oswald, with a knot of confusion in his chest.

"His age has nothing to do with this," Oswald growled, his voice carrying authority that made even the scarred man, Alfre, take a step back. "The boy is innocent."

"Innocence is lost easily in our world, old flame," Arachne replied with a predatory smile, her silver eyes twinkling with amusement. "Don't you think it's time he learned what he's inherited?"

Xander gazed at the flickering flames engulfing his palms. He had a vague understanding of the powers he inherited, mostly from being kidnapped. However, he wasn't going to reveal that information out loud.

"Enough of this," Oswald declared, his tone resolute. He shifted, placing himself protectively in front of Xander, his old body radiating a formidable strength. "You will leave now, or you'll face consequences."

Arachne and Alfre exchanged glances. Their smirks had disappeared, replaced by grim lines of anger. "We aren't leaving without the book," Alfre asserted.

A tension-filled silence fell over the room as the opposing sides measured each other. "Very well," Oswald sighed regretfully. He turned to look at Xander over his shoulder. "Step back, lad."

Xander obeyed, retreating towards the wall as he watched Oswald square up to the intruders. His heart pounded in his chest as he gripped tighter onto the bag that held the mysterious book.

"Let's keep this clean, shall we?" Arachne suggested mockingly, tilting her head to one side.

Ignoring her remark, Oswald outstretched one hand, palm upturned. A ball of light formed above it, so bright Xander had to shield his eyes against its incandescent glare.

When he dared to look again, both Arachne and Alfre were squinting against the light which was growing in intensity and size. Suddenly, with a swift downward swipe of Oswald's arm, the ball of light shot forward towards them. They hardly had time to react before they were engulfed by the radiant orb of energy.

A burst of heat swept across the room and Xander ducked instinctively behind a nearby chair. When he dared peek out from his cover, he saw both Arachne and Alfre scrambling to get up, both looking severely disoriented. The light had receded, but Oswald still stood tall and imposing. 

"Leave now," Oswald demanded, his voice echoing around the room. His stern gaze bore down on the intruders who were now visibly shaken.

But Arachne was not easily dismissed. With a grunt, she pushed herself up from the floor, her silver eyes locked on Oswald.

"You may have caught us off guard, old flame. But do not think that you've won this battle," she hissed. Beside her, Alfre was back on his feet as well, though he made no move to advance.

"I didn't come here for a battle, Arachne," Oswald replied coolly, "I came here to protect Xander."

"A futile effort," Arachne retorted with a cold laugh. "You cannot keep him away from his destiny!"

Before Oswald could respond, Alfre made a sudden move. He lunged towards Xander, who barely had time to react before he was shoved against the wall in a blur of motion.

Panicked, Xander sent a burst of flame towards Alfre but it didn't seem to faze the man at all. He merely laughed as he reached out to grab Xander's bag.

"No!" Xander shouted out just as a blast of energy shot past him and sent Alfre sprawling backward.

Oswald now stood between the intruders and Xander once more. Despite his age, there was an undeniable aura of commanding power around him.

"Xander is NOT part of your games!" Oswald shouted once again.