Oct 15 2022: Antagonist Background

The loud footfalls echoed off the brick walls and masonry within the hallowed ground of academia. During the day, a person could miss the sounds reverberating back, but late at night as a person returned to his dorm room, it was louder than one would think.

He was a junior, twenty-years-old and a business major. But that didn’t stop him from hitting the back of the stacks in the library, searching for more information on his family. Daniel Hathorne was a descendent of John Hathorne, a magistrate during the infamous Salem Witch Trials, and he was descended from Josiah Hathorne, a whaler and businessman. He knew those were facts, but he sensed there were more to it, more that the family was not telling him.

He purposely attended this school for its historical library, keeping the papers from the commonwealth’s founding up until a month before he matriculated. He heard the family stories, the legends, that John ended the Trials because they were coming too close to his own witchcraft use. Daniel also heard the stories that John was in love with one of those about to be accused and needed her to be silent.

As a practicing warlock, the young Hathorne wanted to prove to his coven and the others who knew of his magic use that, indeed, the Magistrate was one of them, giving him an even higher status. Status, that was one of the weaknesses that many felt held the young man from obtaining more respect within the community.

Matriculating as a Business major, Daniel spent most of his free time in the library’s dusty and moldy “History of Massachusetts and the Bay Colony” section of the papers, colloquially named the Stacks. He spent hours looking at papers and official records of those with names familiar to Mayflower descendants. He was coming up short, couldn’t find any official word on why the Trials were abruptly ended, at least not to his satisfaction. The elder Hathorne’s records did not mention anything either.

He stopped his walk, then returned to his dorm room. He heard two more sets of shoes, at a distance. He looked around and saw nothing, no additional shadows. He cursed under his breath: He knew he should have taken the advice of an elder and learned an Appearance spell. He sighed and continued his return.

Back in the warmth of the dorm, he removed his overcoat and flung it over his shoulder before climbing the two flights of stairs. He held onto the notes he had taken, some curious information gathered from Josiah’s diary.

Dated 1844, the story told of a Polish sailor in the English navy, pressed into service due to him killing one of her majesty’s sailors in a bar fight. The man, from deep within the Carpathian Mountains, had been telling tales like most men did on long sea voyages or when they were in port drinking. Josiah had been present when a royal frigate came into New Bedford for water and emergency provisions. The man they called Michael spun his story about a magical ring, one from the time of the Nativity, that held a special hold on demons and spirits alike.

Daniel found this as the librarians were kicking out everyone: they needed to get some sleep. He quickly finished the story notes and packed up as the student librarian entered the Stacks. He put on his overcoat while the grad student – a woman he had seen around campus in the company of several English Lit majors – watched him put on his overcoat and walk out. He heard her lock up. It was not until he was at the front door when he realized that he may have been followed there.

He placed his notes on his desk and removed his shoes. He grabbed water from his small, dorm fridge and twisted the cap. He was about to take a long sip when he noticed two shadows coming from under the door. He placed the bottle on the floor and quickly slid to the door. He pressed an ear on it and tried to hear those outside.

Nothing, silence. He closed his eyes and listened more intently. He heard a countdown. He grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it. Simultaneously he opened it while one of the men flew inside, one who was going to knock down the portal. Daniel looked at him, then at the one still in the hallway and laughed.

“Did my dad send you?” He put out a hand and helped up the fallen associate.

“He did,” the older one said entering the room. “He thought you were on one of your hairbrained schemes again.”

The college student shook his head. “Not this time, just researching.”