Arthur was born and raised in London, England. He loved the city, loved the people, and loved everything about that place. He never would have left London, had never even thought about it. In fact, he should still have been in London, still with everyone he'd ever known.
But something happened on Arthur's fifteenth birthday.
Arthur’s fifteenth birthday caused chaos of mass proportions.
But before the chaos, there had been calm.
That morning, Arthur had groggily arisen to the smell of pancakes, made by his mother, a woman with long, blond hair and glasses, as well as a pleasant demeanor. His father was not the kindest man; he was always rough, always cruel without meaning to be; he meant well, he was just horrible at showing love for anyone.
Allistor was a lot like Arthur's father. Arthur was more like his mother.
That morning began like any normal birthday morning. Arthur had walked into the kitchen, finding his mother humming a sweet tune, making pancakes and scones, two of Arthur's favorite things. Although pancakes were more of an American/Canadian thing, Arthur still liked them, although he'd never really admit it.
He walked toward his mother, wrinkling his nose in feigned disgust. "Pancakes are so American or Canadian or whatever," Arthur mumbled, scratching his head. His mother smiled. "I know you really do like them, love," she teased. Arthur rolled his eyes, although internally, he was drooling, unable to contain his desire for the food. His father was reading the paper in the living room and Allistor was still asleep upstairs.
Arthur sat at the breakfast table, humming an unknown song, waiting for his mother to bring in the food and announce that breakfast was ready. About ten minutes later, the announcement was made and the small family gathered at the table. They said grace, Arthur's mother thanking God for Arthur and praying that he had many more happy birthdays. Arthur had blushed slightly at her words, thankful for his mother.
His father and brother only grunted their responses to this, although it didn't matter to Arthur. They ate breakfast silently, the only sound being the clinking of forks on plates and the murmur of gratitude for the delicious breakfast to Arthur's mother. A little while later, after breakfast had been cleaned up and Allistor had disappeared once more to his room, his father having gone to the living room to watch TV, his mother handed him a gift, wrapped in colorful paper.
"It's time you learned the family secret, Arthur." Arthur raised his eyebrows at his mother. His mother smiled. "Open it, Arthur. I promise it will all be far clearer soon." Arthur shrugged and opened the gift. It was a book, the word Magicis on the front cover, spelled out in golden lettering. The book itself was leather bound and onyx colored. Arthur gasped in wonder, then embraced his mother. "Thanks, mum! This is so cool!"
His mother hugged him back, smiling. "I'm glad you like it. But, I have to explain some things to you." Arthur tilted his head to the side. "Yeah?" His mother sighed. "Arthur, I know this is going to be difficult to believe, so I'll show you instead of really telling you." His mother took a deep breath, put her hands out in front of her, palms out, fingers spread, and mumbled a few words, none of which Arthur could understand.
There was a flash and a moment later, a flame bobbed up and down in his mother's outstretched hands, in the center of her palms. Arthur's eyes widened. "Magic flows through our veins." His mother whispered, smiling. Arthur tried to convince himself that this was not true, that this was impossible, but as seconds went by, his belief in his mother's powers increased. After all, the proof was right before his eyes. "Then, does that mean...?" His mother shrugged. "It is a possibility that you can do the same things I can. That's why I gave you that book," she said, pointing at the object he had quickly tucked under his arm.
Arthur bit his lip. "Open the book, Artie," his mother whispered kindly, encouraging him. He opened the book to a random page. The page he opened to was entitled Ventus. He raised an eyebrow and picked a random group of words. The one's that caught his eye first seemed to be a poem. Unlike the title of the chapter and the book, the group of seemingly random words were in English.
He closed his eyes, holding the book tightly at the edges. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the page and carefully recited the words:
From east to west,
North to south,
Deities of wind control life;
See to it that there is an ending to this strife.
Aee to it that winds come from Auster's mouth.
There was silence for a moment. No noise was heard, except for the din of the TV Arthur's father was watching.
Then, a sudden, strong wind picked up in the house. Papers flew about the air and both Arthur and his mother were almost thrown back by the force of the wind. As suddenly as it had appeared, however, the wind was gone. After a moment of staring at each other, wide eyed, Arthur and his mother laughed, quietly at first, then louder.
From that day forward, Arthur practiced his magic whenever possible. He learned the Latin names scattered throughout the books, memorizing countless spells to defend himself or heal someone. His mother warned him to beware of certain spells and to always keep a clear head whenever performing magic, should his clouded judgment cause destruction and regret.
One day, a few months later, when Arthur had gotten rather proficient at magic, even after such a short time, he met Francis Bonnefoy, his mother's trusted friend. There was something about Francis that Arthur didn't like. Arthur soon knew what it was; Francis loved his mother. This love was breaking the family apart. His mother and his father argued nightly, their screams echoing throughout the house.
Sometimes, Arthur had to recite the spell he’d memorized to make his room temporarily soundproof, just so he wouldn't have to hear his mother and father screaming and could maybe get a wink of sleep. Their household was torn to shreds and all because Arthur's mother loved another man, and this man loved her. Arthur got so angry at her. There had been peace and happiness before Francis had come into the picture. Now, there was no peace; only rage.
He argued with his mother about her affair one night. He screamed at her, telling to make things go back to the way they had once been. His mother nearly cried, yelling that there was no way she could go back to being that unhappy. Their argument raged on for a long time. Finally, Arthur left the room and stormed up the stairs to his own room, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Once up in his room, Arthur took out the magic book he had half memorized and turned to the page labeled Exitium; destruction. He recited the first spell on the page, blinded by his anger.
Red and orange
Yellow and blue
Bring out the all these blazing hues
Of fire and ruin
Set everything ablaze
Let everything burn
Until not a thing remains
Until ashes everything has turned.
There was silence for a minute; silence but for the soft sound of his mother weeping and a quiet, familiar French accented voice comforting her. Francis had arrived moments earlier to take Arthur's mother away for a while, give her the peace she needed, away from her husband, who refused to let her go.
Then, the house was consumed in flames.
There were three survivors; Francis, Allistor, and Arthur.
Everything else was ashes.
A/N: I am highly unsure of those Latin thingies. Like, super ultra HIGHLY. If anyone knows where or not I got them right, please tell me. If I got them wrong, correct me, please. Anyway, yeah. Arthur be all magical and shite. Next update will (hopefully) be soon. I'm highly disorganized.