Birth of a Titan

By Gary Iascone

Fourteen-year-old Cory Thompson is on his way to magic school with his father and sister. At his unbinding ceremony, the powers he receives make it apparent that he is the magical community’s new Titan. In an attempt to help Cory prepare for his future destiny, Professor Archer becomes his personal mentor.

Due to a series of unfortunate incidents—some caused naturally and some intentionally by the Ancient Order of the Crones—Cory’s sister, Ashley, makes the biggest mistake of her life. Cory is the only person capable of saving Ashley from becoming an evil Crone forever, even if he is totally unprepared to fight.

Armed with only three months of formal training and his pet bird, Indy, Cory attempts the impossible while surrounded by elves, witches, and warlocks. If he fails, the Crones will have gained far more than a new recruit. They will hold the key to both the magical community’s and humankind’s only hope for the future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Jun 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781489722942

Gary Iascone

Gary Iascone lives in Las Vegas. He received bachelors’ degrees in business administration and history from Nazareth College. He also completed a master’s in secondary education but never became a teacher due to the tragic murder of his son, Cory. Although set in a world of fantasy, Birth of a Titan is a testament to the type of person Cory was, immortalized forever in the words of his father.

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Copyright © 2019 Gary Iascone.

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-2296-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2295-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2294-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019907992

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 06/19/2019

Contents

Acknowledgments:

Chapter 1 I’m Coming To Get You

Chapter 2 Walk Down Memory Lane

Chapter 3 Home Sweet Home

Chapter 4 A Happy Reunion

Chapter 5 The Ancient Order of the Crones

Chapter 6 A Strange Dinner

Chapter 7 Lessons In the Car

Chapter 8 No Rest For The Weary

Chapter 9 Robins and Eagles, Women and Pool

Chapter 10 The Best Defense

Chapter 11 The Best Offense

Chapter 12 A New Roommate

Chapter 13 Orientation

Chapter 14 The Unbinding Ceremony

Chapter 15 What Happened?

Chapter 16 A Change of Plans

Chapter 17 Hugs, More Hugs and Kisses

Chapter 18 Homework, Homework and More Homework

Chapter 19 In the Mean Time

Chapter 20 An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 21 Back So Soon?

Chapter 22 Pizza and Worms for Dinner

Chapter 23 A Father and Son Talk

Chapter 24 New Revelations

Chapter 25 Private Lessons

Chapter 26 It’s a Date

Chapter 29 School Board Requests

Chapter 30 The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 31 Assistant Headmaster?

Chapter 32 Friday Night

Chapter 33 I Love You Too

Chapter 34 Another Father and Son Talk

Chapter 35 Halloween Dance Disaster

Chapter 36 Secrets Revealed

Chapter 37 I Never Want To See Him Again

Chapter 38 The Whole Truth and Nothing But

Chapter 39 November Blues

Chapter 40 A Mother Daughter Talk

Chapter 41 Uninvited Guests

Chapter 42 Rules Meant to Protect, Not Punish

Chapter 43 School Work Just Got Harder

Chapter 44 Strike Three; You’re Out

Chapter 45 Apology Accepted

Chapter 46 More Pieces of the Puzzle

Chapter 47 A Well-Deserved Break

Chapter 48 Meeting of the Sisterhood

Chapter 49 A Little Detective Work

Chapter 50 Timing is Everything

Chapter 51 Caught In the Act

Chapter 52 Paying For One’s Mistakes

Chapter 53 Wanted Dead or Alive

Chapter 54 Birth of a Titan

Epilouge

Dedication:

To my son, Cory, I love and miss you.

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Acknowledgments:

Thank you, Chico, you old pool playing fool. Thank you, Poppy, our lifelong talks were invaluable. A special thanks to Robert, for believing in this project and the help you gave me polishing it up. Thank you, Ashley and Gigi. I couldn’t have done this without the love and support I received from both of you. And most of all, special thanks to you, Cory, for the inspiration you’ve given me, both in life and in death.

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chapter 1

I’m Coming To Get You

Cory, I’m coming to get you, an unknown voice said in a low, almost guttural growl.

Cory heard the threat loud and clear, but he couldn’t determine who was speaking or where the voice was coming from. He was walking home from his friend’s house, as he had done a hundred times before without incident. It was only ten o’clock at night, and there was plenty of light coming from the almost full moon. Up until the moment he heard the voice, he had been care free and glad that he had the opportunity to hang out with his best friend, Vinny, on the night before Cory would go off to school.

In an instant, all of that changed, as his senses went on high alert. For a reason he couldn’t explain, Cory wasn’t afraid. In fact, the hair on the back of his neck was bristling with what he determined could only be anticipation. It was almost as if he had been expecting the upcoming confrontation and couldn’t wait for it to get started. Even when the world around him suddenly began to change, fear didn’t dictate his actions.

Thick, dark clouds smothered the moon, quickly extinguishing the generous light that, just moments before, had bathed the street Cory was walking on. The only remaining light came from well-spaced streetlights, but all they now showed was a heavy, smoky fog that began to appear out of nowhere. The temperature dropped fifteen degrees in a matter of seconds, while visibility was reduced to no more than a foot or two.

Cory immediately stopped walking and slowly started to circle, peering intently into the fog, hoping to get a glimpse of his adversary. Every muscle in his body was taut, ready to react to the slightest movement or sound, whether real or imagined. As he began his third full turn, he noticed the glow of a pair of sickly yellowish eyes, stealthily approaching him from the sidewalk across the street.

Although it was impossible to see who or what was making those pale globes move, Cory was sure that the eyes’ owner was much larger than the biggest man on earth. Still, fear wasn’t an issue. Cory’s biggest concern at this point was whether this was the best place to face his foe. After all, he had no idea what he was up against, and for all practical purposes, he was blind. As these and other tactical thoughts raced through his head, the decision to fight or take flight was no longer up to him.

"And I’m coming now," the voice roared.

Just before the unseen limbs of the being attached to the owner of those eyes grabbed him, Cory pulled his head straight up from his pillow and looked around him, his arms flailing at an unseen opponent. It only took him a few seconds to realize that he had been having a nightmare, and it was his mother’s voice he had heard yelling. The wave of relief that swept over him was soon replaced with apprehension when he heard the exaggerated sound of his mother stomping up the steps, literally coming to get him.

It’s okay, Mom. I’m up, Cory yelled, hoping his mother wouldn’t barge into his room. As much as he loved her, he wasn’t going to miss her flare for the dramatic whenever the mood struck her.

What’s all this yelling about, Mom? Cory heard his sister Ashley ask. We’re both up and we’ll be right down.

About time. I’ve only been calling the both of you for the past half hour, their mother yelled back to them. To Cory’s relief, the sound of her voice was somewhat muffled and she could be heard retreating back down the stairs.

Cory grabbed his robe from the floor and put it on before entering the hallway and racing to the bathroom in the hope of beating his sister. If he won, it would mean having to face his mother alone, but it was better than waiting the inevitable ten to fifteen minutes his sister would take. His quick thinking was rewarded, and less than five minutes later, he was the lone object of his mother’s wrath for taking so long to wake up.

As is often the case with dreams and nightmares, the memory of Cory’s faded away long before his mother was done giving him a lecture on the virtues of responsibility. Of course, having to listen to the entire lecture a second time after Ashley finally joined them for breakfast made Cory rethink his weekend morning routine, and, unlike that of his nightmare, he promised himself it was a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

It might have been better for him to remember his nightmare.

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chapter 2

Walk Down Memory Lane

Hey Sebby, tell me again why we’re out in this retched heat, beating on rugs like we were newbie employees? Bleaker asked as he inhaled a lung full of dust and dirt that hung in the air all around him.

I’ll tell you why. It’s because that miserable old bag, Algeera, had to go off and visit her mother, on this of all weeks. If only thoughts could torture, Sebby replied, beating on his rug even harder.

The pair were deep in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains, where the last vestige of an untypical upstate New York summer was holding on with unusual tenacity. Highs in the low nineties with eighty-five percent humidity were making this August one to forget for most folks. Not that the weather was a problem for Jeeves, the head house elf for Prescott Academy for Witches and Warlocks. The same couldn’t be said for his staff, however.

With only two weeks to go before the start of the fall semester, Jeeves was grumpier than the uncomfortable weather could account for. The combination of the two was making Bleaker and his best friend Sebby more miserable than they had been since they first came to Prescott.

Jeeves was only the assistant head house elf at the time, but one of his most cherished assignments was making newly recruited house elves as miserable as possible. He felt if they could put up with his mistreatment in the beginning, they would learn discipline as well as gain an appreciation for his normally drab personality, a trait he held in common with his boss Franklin. As Bleaker and Sebby continued to beat the rugs that hung on seemingly endless clotheslines in the midday heat, Bleaker changed the subject as he began instead to reminisce about their first two weeks at Prescott those many years ago.

Remember that day you tripped and knocked down the stack of clean dishes, which in turn knocked down another and another like they were dominoes? Bleaker smiled as he spoke, but remembered that neither of them were smiling when Jeeves entered the dish room, a witness to the tail end of the disaster.

Yeah, I remember it well, you klutz. I was putting the last few clean dishes on top of the last stack when you backed into me and tripped me, Sebby replied, although unlike Bleaker, he wasn’t smiling.

Bleaker ignored the barb and said, Boy was old Jeevesy mad. He made us pick up every piece by hand. No broom, no gloves and no magic. Three days later when we finally got it all cleaned up, he fixed them all, only to break them again.

Sebby sighed, still remembering all the cuts they got, cuts that took days to heal because they were denied healing. After cleaning it up a second time, Jeeves made them cut up the lemons, limes, grapefruits and oranges for all the various meals over the course of the following week. After those first two weeks, though, Jeeves had calmed down and everything had gone smoothly until this past week. Not that Sebby blamed Jeeves.

This wasn’t just any week. With two weeks left before the start of the new school year, Jeeves wanted everything to be perfect for the incoming students. Even more important, though, was the uncertainty of the arrival of the school’s new headmaster. Nobody knew much about the man who would take over, but Jeeves wasn’t the type of house elf to take any chances.

The old headmaster, Professor Archer, was a kindly, middle aged gentleman whose untimely and rather surprising retirement shocked the entire staff at Prescott. The mystery which shrouded his act was on the tongue of everyone at the school. It was also the cause of Jeeves’ insistence that everyone do their part in creating a good first impression for the incoming headmaster. Nothing was going to keep him from his goal, especially not something as trivial as unusually hot, sticky weather. Hence, all the ridiculous chores Bleaker, Sebby and the rest of the housekeeping staff was being subjected to.

Normally, Algeera would clean all the rugs with her enchanted supervac machine, but it was refusing to work for anyone other than Algeera. Unfortunately for them, Bleaker and Sebby had drawn the task of flogging the dirt and dust out of the rugs the old fashion way. There was supposedly a spell that would accomplish the job automatically, but when Algeera perfected her supervac machine, the spell was no longer needed and thus had been forgotten.

Bleaker looked at the giant stack of rugs still to be cleaned, then up to the sky where this ungodly weather emanated from. It looked like it was going to be a long uncomfortable two weeks, he thought as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Sebby, on the other hand, was thinking of ways to get back at Algeera and that awful machine of hers.

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The last week of August wasn’t much different from its predecessor. However, Professor Jonathan Longbeach was in much too good a mood to let the heat and humidity rain on his parade. He still found it hard to believe in his good fortune. He was the first educator under the age of one hundred to ever be given the job of headmaster in any of the magic schools. The unexpected retirement of Professor Archer was a stroke of luck that he still found to be surreal.

Professor Archer was widely regarded as the most powerful active wizard of modern time. His untimely retirement at the young age of 392 was almost as big of a shock as Professor Longbeach becoming the headmaster at the extremely young age of 76 years old.

No one was more surprised than Jonathan Longbeach, however. He was still reeling from the good fortune he felt he had received when he had become the youngest assistant headmaster in history at Brockton Academy in Alabama two years ago.

Before that, he had been a level I History of Magic teacher at his alma mater, Stackhouse Academy in northern California for twenty-one years. He then became a level II History of Magic teacher at Wakefield Academy in northwestern Michigan where he taught for thirty-one years. While he was the assistant headmaster at Brockton, its regular headmaster, Anna Marie Tillman, had come down with an extremely rare case of lingering menafenalitis. Among other things, the disease caused its victims to sleep eighteen to twenty hours a day and was the only disease doctors in the magical community were unable to cure.

The term lingering was aptly applied to the disease’s name because its symptoms usually lasted anywhere from one to two years. So shortly after Longbeach became her assistant, he was called upon to run the school in the capacity of headmaster. Again, luck played its role to perfection as Professor Tillman had recovered from her illness in time for Jonathan to apply for the recently vacated position of headmaster at Prescott, the oldest and most prestigious of America’s six magic institutions.

Professor Longbeach was ecstatic. His ideals, hopes and dreams were all at once being given the opportunity to be fulfilled much sooner than he had ever dreamed possible. Ever since he had decided to become an educator, he felt compelled to change the ancient ways used to teach future magicians. He had already been instrumental in getting curriculum changes made, to the point new classes were now being taught in every magic school in the country.

It was his innovation that got the series of Life Studies classes introduced into the curriculum. He could only wish that the American education system for mortals would do the same. He also got the school board to eliminate classes previously required for level I students.

Classes like geometry, trigonometry, and even most of algebra were nothing more than a waste of time for most students in his opinion. He had devised a course called Math for Life that combined all the essential ingredients of math from the various disciplines that would be needed and used in the daily future lives of his students. He had created a similar course for the sciences called Science for Life.

His biggest innovation, however, came in the creation of levels for English. First, he eliminated the need to hammer grammar into students. What good is knowing what a preposition or a gerund is if a student couldn’t read, or he could read but didn’t understand what he was reading. He then created English courses that emphasized reading and writing where each level got progressively harder.

A student wasn’t allowed to progress to the next level until he successfully passed the previous level with a high degree of proficiency. He also integrated what was taught in the English classes into the other subjects being taught so that there was constant reinforcement on the necessity and importance of learning how to read and write well.

Of course, when students graduated to level II courses, all the eliminated courses were available for students, depending on their likes and dislikes, as well as their chosen field of future employment. At the very least, however, all the subjects taught in level I classes were useful to all students for the rest of their lives. Now that he was a headmaster in truth, he hoped to build on and improve his innovations so that all students in the magical community would get the best quality education available.

His thoughts about his past successes were interrupted when Clifford, his personal house elf, rolled down the window between the front and back seats and announced, We’re here Master Jonathan. Isn’t it exciting?

Yes, Clifford, it is, Longbeach replied. We’re home at last.

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chapter 3

Home Sweet Home

Situated in a basin on the eastern shore of Prescott Lake, the tiny town of Prescott looked peaceful, nestled in a grove of tall pines, maples and majestic oaks as well as being surrounded by New York State’s tallest peaks. The road leading to the school slowly meandered around gentle twists and turns before the landscape opened, providing a breathtaking panorama of the front of the school.

Its six towers stood out against the majesty of the nearby mountains, each proudly flying a huge Prescott flag with its light blue and purple crest bordered in black against a cream background. The flags were billowing softly in a light breeze that was the only bit of relief from the staggering heat which could be seen shimmering off the calm surface of Prescott Lake. This was the Professor’s first visit to Prescott, and he was properly impressed so far.

The limo followed a bend in the road which blocked his view in all directions, so Jonathan settled back in his seat while Clifford negotiated the final turns to bring them to the front entrance of the school. He was met by a valet who opened his door for him and asked if there was anything that needed to be carried from the car. Clifford had already transported all his luggage, trunks and personal belongings prior to leaving Alabama, so the Professor shook his head no and was immediately led into the climate controlled comfort of the front entrance.

The look of surprise on Professor Longbeach’s face was readily apparent when he saw that his welcoming committee consisted of none other than Professor Archer himself.

Jonathan, my boy, how are you, son? It’s so good to see you again. The Professor greeted him as he held out his hand to shake.

Professor Longbeach took his hand and replied, I’m fine, sir. A little tired from the trip, but extremely excited to be here. I’m also quite pleased to see you here, sir.

Professor Archer said, Well, no cause for alarm, Jonathan, I assure you. My presence here is strictly business and most certainly for your benefit. Come, let us retire to a more comfortable place than the front foyer of this grand school. I’ve taken the liberty of having prepared some refreshments for you, and we have a great deal to talk about. Please follow me. On our way there, you can tell me how your trip was.

It was wonderful, sir. It’s not often that I get to see the country like that. I’m usually in such a hurry all the time that I end up transporting wherever I need to go. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride and seeing a great deal of some of our nation’s beautiful countryside. We even managed to stop off for a brief visit in Gettysburg, someplace I’ve always wanted to see, but never got around to actually doing.

That’s great, Jonathan, I’m happy for you. But where in the world are my manners? Professor Archer asked, Did you want to perhaps freshen up before we begin?

To tell the truth, sir, I was rather hoping your refreshments might include some food. In my desire and excitement to finally arrive here, I made Clifford drive straight through what should have been a lunch break, Professor Longbeach answered.

Of course, son, of course. We’ve arrived at our destination, he said as he entered a doorway that opened into a small, comfortable looking lounge room. Please have a seat while I see to our refreshments.

Moments later the Professor returned with Jeeves, who asked them both if they would like something to drink while they were waiting for their food. Professor Longbeach requested a sweetened iced tea while Professor Archer said he would have his usual. They both settled into a chair and awaited their drinks while exchanging other pleasantries they hadn’t yet covered.

They didn’t wait long as Jeeves returned, bearing their drinks. Your lunch will be along in about fifteen minutes, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you in the meantime? he addressed Professor Archer, which didn’t go unnoticed by the younger Professor.

No, Jeeves, that’ll be all for now. By the way, Jeeves, please forgive my absent-mindedness. This is the new headmaster, Professor Longbeach. Professor, your head of the housekeeping and servant staffs, Jeeves, Professor Archer replied.

Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir, Jeeves said, bowing slightly.

Likewise, I’m sure said Longbeach. He then added, And I’d like a pitcher of ice water served with our lunch if you would.

Certainly, sir, Jeeves replied as he turned to leave the room.

When Jeeves was gone, Professor Archer cloaked their conversation with a wave of his hand. I hope you forgive the presumptuousness of my meeting you here like this, Jonathan, but what I have to tell you is important.

Of course not, Professor. My initial greeting to you was genuine and, might I add, you’re welcome here whenever you wish. I’d welcome your company at any time and in whatever capacity you see fit, Professor Longbeach replied.

You’re too kind, but thank you, my boy. I only wish that I was here to simply give you advice or show you around until you become comfortable. I may very well end up doing that anyway. But that’s not why I planned this meeting without your consent or knowledge. I’m meeting you here like this because I believe Prescott Academy and all of its inhabitants are in danger.

What kind of danger, sir? asked Professor Longbeach.

"I’m not sure. That’s part of the reason why I’ve included you, hoping that perhaps you might see something I’m missing. Plus, since this is your school now, you have the right to know what’s going on here. As you’re probably aware by now, I was forced to resign here at Prescott. It was that or be dismissed.

I’m afraid I was rather naïve throughout the entire ordeal. I found it hard to believe that someone, or some ones, were so intent on displacing me from my job that they would stoop to the level which they did to frame me.

While I’m sorry to hear that, Professor, it does make more sense than some of the rumors that have been flying around the magical world, Professor Longbeach said.

Regardless of the gossip, the truth is that a person whom I completely trusted, my own assistant headmistress, turned out to be a member of the Order of the Crones, and even though the evidence points to her creating all the chaos that occurred, I was still forced to resign my position because I was unable to detect a spy who was working closely with me on a daily basis. There, of course, was much more to it than that, but it sums it up pretty nicely.

You mean to tell me the Council of Elders made you resign your position because your assistant was good at what she did? Professor Longbeach interrupted, his voice sounding somewhat outraged.

Yes, I’m afraid so. And a proper punishment it was, once you get past the obvious tenure, loyalty and trust issues. You see, since I’ve had the entire summer to dwell on the circumstances that contributed to my demise, I’ve concluded that my assistant was only one part of a much larger group of usurpers who were bent on severing my ties with this institution. The Professor paused to take a large gulp from his drink.

Professor Longbeach took advantage of the pause by verbalizing his thoughts. And now you’re trying to tell me that simply eliminating your assistant didn’t purge the school of the threat.

I’m afraid so, my boy, replied Professor Archer.

Before he could resume the discussion, a chime rang out, the Professor’s way of knowing someone was about to interrupt him. With a wave of his hand, he dropped the cloaking spell and waited in silence. From the look on Professor Longbeach’s face, the break was more than welcome.

Jeeves entered the room, followed by two other house elves pushing carts loaded with their lunch. Your meal is served sirs, as requested, he stated, then added, I took the liberty to bring additional pitchers of your drinks as well as water, in case you don’t want to be disturbed. If there’s anything you need, you know how to contact me. Otherwise, we’ll leave you to your food and discussion.

Actually, there’s something you can do for me, Jeeves, if you would. Please get a message to my house elf, Clifford, that I’ll be here for quite a while and he should begin setting up my quarters without me. Also, would you ask him to bring me and the Professor a box of my imported cigars? I only have two left, Professor Longbeach requested.

Certainly, sir, begin setting up without you and bring a box of your finest cigars as soon as possible. I’ll let him know, sir, Jeeves replied.

The two elves had already deposited the contents of their carts on the table and had set up the extra pitchers of drink within easy range of the sitting Professors. They left without saying a word, followed by a stiff and proper Jeeves. Despite Jeeves’ earlier indiscretion, Professor Longbeach seemed to be impressed with his efficiency, show of respect, and his promptness.

This Jeeves of yours is some piece of work, Professor, he said while preparing his plate.

Oh, you’ll get used to him, Jonathan, Professor Archer responded. He’s all prim and proper now, but once you get to know him, and he you, everything will be fine. You mark my words. He’s somewhat of an institution here at Prescott, where he’s served his whole life. I’m sure you won’t hold that small indiscretion you noticed earlier against him. After all, I’ve been his boss here for over two hundred years, the Professor added.

No, of course not, sir. It’s only natural that he’d defer to you, Professor Longbeach said.

They both turned their attention to the feast laid out before them, not saying much in the process. When they were through, Jeeves entered the room as if on cue and began to clear away their plates and leftovers.

I’ve delivered your message to Clifford, sir, as well as your request. He asked me to inform you that the cigars are packed away, but as soon as he retrieves them he’ll bring them to you post haste, Jeeves purposely addressed Professor Longbeach.

Thank you, Jeeves, the Professor said as he produced two cigars from his coat pocket. Using magic, he trimmed and lit them both, then offered one to Professor Archer, who accepted it with a nod.

When Jeeves was finished clearing away their meal and had left, Jonathan cast the cloaking spell and said, Shall we continue?

Ah, yes, of course, my boy. Good idea. As Professor Archer spoke, he once again waved his hand, this time producing an image of himself speaking before their lunch had been served. When the hologram was complete, he continued from where he had left off.

Ah, yes. How could I forget that look on your face? It reminds me of the face a chicken would make if it knew it had entered a hen house where a hungry fox was waiting for its next meal. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, my boy, but as of today, you’re that chicken.

I’m beginning to realize that there may have been an ulterior motive for hiring me, other than my amazing intellect and vast amount of experience.

I doubt that the Elders would give you this job with the intent of hoping you fail. That isn’t using your intellect at all, Jonathan. You’re young, innovative, and highly intelligent; the very attributes this job, and its inherited dilemma, needs. Besides, you have something that I didn’t have.

And what might that be, sir?

You have knowledge of the situation. Make no mistake about it, Jonathan, the Crones want this school.

Forgive my ignorance, sir, but how did you come to that conclusion? After all, every school is constantly on the watch for the Crones. They have been preying on young women in schools since they were first opened. What makes this occurrence any different?

"Because this time they went after me. Unless I’m very much mistaken, I would bet all I own they were hoping for one of their members to be named headmaster after they arranged